Dead End
Major
Yes, we're all doomed. I already knew that.
Posts: 797
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Post by Dead End on Oct 19, 2008 8:30:38 GMT -5
Dead End is mildly surprised when Fleetwind-3 ducks under him--my, isn't he agile--and slightly annoyed that by rising behind him instead of in front of Dead End, the yellow jet is completely out of Dead End's angle of fire. By the time Dead End skids into a bootlegger reverse and brings his guns to bear, Autobot-Nice Fleetwind is nearly out of range--
And has been joined in the sky by Our Own Cowardly Fleetwind. Oh joy. Confusion of targets ahoy. He could shoot them both, Dead End supposed, but they... had just pulled out of vehicle gun range and he didn't actually dislike Fleetwind or anything.
Perhaps there was someone else here to engage. If not, well, it wasn't like the outcome of this battle actually mattered in the big picture. The red Stunticon flicked on his radar, trying to scan through the jungle for targets... spotting something, he gunned his engine and plunged through the trees toward someone...
---- Cross-posted to "Jungle Gunfight" and out of this thread.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Oct 19, 2008 8:48:31 GMT -5
Skystrike, already airborne, just twists out of the way of Slag’s shots with some manipulations of her antigravs. Shortly afterwards the blue jet is transforming and firing up her engines to go chasing after the retreating opposition.
OOC: Outta the thread!
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Starscream
Major
"Sometimes I can almost feel it!"
strangely enough, male.
Posts: 945
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Post by Starscream on Oct 20, 2008 13:59:11 GMT -5
The Dinobots have chased after Rodimus, and so Starscream shall chase after them. It's either that or, well, stand there.
Starscream changes his vector to follow the airborne Prime and his prehistoric prey.
OOC: Outta the thread, posting into new thread tonight.
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Swerve-3
Rookie
Maintain the Light
Posts: 169
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Post by Swerve-3 on Oct 26, 2008 13:49:52 GMT -5
The chaos is brief but nerve-wracking with bombs shredding the terrain and weapons fire splitting the air. In the midst of it all, Swerve sits huddled tightly with his head nearly between his knees, trying to protect at least his more vulnerable front while his hood is pelted with clods of dirt, bits of rock and metal.
It isn't until quiet reigns uneasy, combat following the fighters elsewhere so that only echoes reach him, that Swerve finally untucks and lifts his head. He isn't sobbing – he won't let himself fall apart like that – but he's shaking with the effort of keeping himself under control. And with fear. He's terrified of what will happen to the other Autobots, of what the Prime will do to them and because of Swerve. Of what could happen to Emirate Xaaron, still out there.
Of what could happen to Swerve himself, realises the constable as he sits up and sees a strange, shifting line– No, a small wave of green creeping his way.
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Swerve-3
Rookie
Maintain the Light
Posts: 169
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Post by Swerve-3 on Nov 2, 2008 16:01:26 GMT -5
OOC: Just keeping an update on the metallivorous moss….
Swerve hasn't much experience with botany, but he's sure that rapid expansion isn't normal. For a moment or two, as it draws nearer, all he can really do is stare in a numb sort of fascination.
Soon enough, fascination becomes dull surprise as the green stuff begins to creep its way onto the dais. He isn't sure what to make of it, really; the closer it draws, though, the more he feels a nagging sense of worry. He's never seen plants that grow this quickly. Or… are they moving? He blinks and watches it more carefully. The greenery is moving, and not in just any general direction; it's moving very deliberately toward him.
"Ah… stop," he mumbles reflexively, trying to shuffle back. He reaches the limit of his bonds far too quickly and the drag on his injured shoulder earns a low hiss of pain. He hasn't gained much ground at all – can't go any further – and the plants are still advancing. He can strain against the chains all he wants, but he still can't do much more than watch the green climb over one leg, then the other, working its way upward. The crawling sensation is almost maddening, but that isn't what pushes up his temperature and sets his ventilation to howling.
That comes with the stinging and scouring as his plating begins to wear away under the assault.
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Swerve-3
Rookie
Maintain the Light
Posts: 169
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Post by Swerve-3 on Nov 4, 2008 16:40:56 GMT -5
OOC: Last one, honest.
Swerve doesn't scream. Not for lack of wanting, but he can't find his voice. All he can seem to do is gasp in pain while he kicks and thrashes as much as he can, trying to throw off the plants, scrape them off, get them away from him. It burns. Searing hot, choking his intakes, clogging his ventilation, seeping into seams and gaps and making it impossible to cool down. He can't cool down.
He can't cool down. This stuff won't go away and he can't get away, can't even free an arm to sweep the stuff off. He can't get loose. He can't escape and he can't cool down. His coolant pumps can't handle the entire load but ventilation is stopped up. He's been left here to burn up, to melt down into a twitching pile of slag with his processors leaking out his cranial seams. He's been left here to die.
He's going to die.
The constable's vocorder cracks with his enraged cry as he throws himself against his chains hard enough to rupture a gasket in his already injured shoulder. He doesn't care; he keeps pushing, and amid all the snarling and the piercing shriek of his engine straining and the stinging pain, he doesn't notice the scent of charred vegetation.
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Post by Mirage on Nov 6, 2008 10:29:34 GMT -5
Mirage stiffens slightly at the very light touch of Hairsplitter against his hand, but as the touch is followed quickly by Spinister's voice, the spy relaxes. As he takes Hairsplitter, Mirage smirks: //Darling, you are really good! You simply must tell me who made your tech.//
Without hesitation, Mirage holds out his own rifle to Spinister. Assuming the helicopter takes it, Mirage says: //We'll switch back when we're out of this mess. I-// Mirage breaks of at Swerve's cry of pain and anger, attention swiveling back to the trapped constable.
//That mess...it's hurting him!// Mirage cloaks, then starts back toward the clearing at a quick pace. //He knows me. He doesn't know you. My rifle is loaded with armour piercing rounds. Think you can use it to break a chain link or two?//
Cross-post as Mirage slips out of Ghost Hunters.
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Spinister-3
Cadet
"I live for the day when no one has to fear."
Posts: 79
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Post by Spinister-3 on Nov 6, 2008 11:52:00 GMT -5
//Only one of the best-looking helicopters I know,// Spinister answers, brazen and unashamed.
He takes Mirage's rifle, which vanishes in his hands, and he coos, quite touched, //You are too kind - I really will need to make this up to you! Hairsplitter can write on a microchip from two miles away, if it comes to that, but I'll see what I can do.//
He runs his hands over the rifle, slips his finger around the trigger, and checks out the sights. He's really used to a weapon that shares a head him with him - he's not sure how he used to do it, any more, but he can't be that rusty, can he?
Spinister takes aim at one of the knots and fires, and before the armour-piercing round has even hit anything, he's moving, off in the direction away from where he last saw Mirage.
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Swerve-3
Rookie
Maintain the Light
Posts: 169
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Post by Swerve-3 on Nov 6, 2008 21:41:17 GMT -5
It may be a miracle that all of Swerve's struggling and shuddering doesn't put him right in the path of that shot, but it misses him. It misses him and cuts clean through the twisted and mashed tangle of chains at his back that hold him in place. Tension releases with a deafening snap and he tumbles forward, free, crushing plants beneath him and leaving some paint on the dais. He tries to get right back onto his feet and they slide out from beneath him. Another attempt sees him standing before he stumbles off the dais.
He lies where he crashed to the ground, choking, growling and too light-headed to move, watching heat warnings glare mockingly back at him. The air reeks of smouldering plants and singed plastics and he burns. He burns and aches and he can't get any fresh air into his systems.
Slowly, though… slowly, as he quakes and sputters, engine grinding gears, ventilation starts to clear up. The plants begin to shrink away from him, charred and hissing. Steaming.
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Post by Mirage on Nov 7, 2008 22:32:42 GMT -5
Being too worried about Swerve meant Mirage had failed to cloak immediately upon moving our of his blind, a mistake he rectifies rather quickly. As swiftly as he dares, he works his way down to the captive constable, skirting the green mess while trying to stay out of Spinister's line of fire. It occurs to him as moves that Spinister referred to the rifle as Hairsplitter, and that Hairsplitter was the ecology something or other. Which means Mirage is carrying a living organic weapon.
Weird.
As Mirage enters the clearing, he says to Hairsplitter, "I'll get as close to that...flora as I can without jeopardizing either of us. You can...transform and check it out then, if you'd like."
The spy calls out softly once he's within earshot, "Swerve? It is I, Mirage. We're getting you out of here, just like I promised." Mirage drops his cloak as he kneels behind Swerve. A risk, an invitation- the spy is wary, expecting an enemy shot. Surely the didn't all leave. He reaches for Swerve's shoulder, ignoring the extreme heat radiating from the constable. "Can you move on your own?"
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Spinister-3
Cadet
"I live for the day when no one has to fear."
Posts: 79
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Post by Spinister-3 on Nov 8, 2008 9:49:03 GMT -5
"Sure thing," Hairsplitter replies in a low, good-natured murmur. Like his alternate, Hairsplitter is exacting. Unlike his alternate, he actually has people skills and was therefore never obnoxiously exacting. The gun attempts to twist and transform in Mirage's hands. If he can accomplish that, he'll be a small, exo-suited humanoid, a little smaller than Holi and a little bigger than Frenzy.
That moss... stuff worries him. He's not a scientist, though he worked with them. He was an ecological efficiency expert, and that... is looking like an invasive alien species from Hell.
Spinister, still cloaked, takes up a position where, if someone tries to open fire on Mirage or Swerve, he'll have a pretty good chance at getting a shot on the assailant. However, he'd really like to be over there with Swerve, who is clearly injured. Mentally, he tries to recall how many refrigerants his medical kit contains.
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Swerve-3
Rookie
Maintain the Light
Posts: 169
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Post by Swerve-3 on Nov 9, 2008 19:46:25 GMT -5
"Don't," snarls the furious constable in a low wheeze, flinching away by little else but instinct. He'd take a swing if he could lift an arm, but his limbs feel too heavy and slow. "Don't. Touch. Me." It could be the wrong Mirage for all he knows, trying to trick him, as much as the spy could be who he says he is.
But Mirage had promised….
"Don't touch me," Swerve repeats after a very long second or two, not so much angry now as afraid and tired. He hurts and he's sure Mirage will be burned if he touches the constable's hood. "I can't – I'm sorry, I can't. Not right now." He needs to cool down first; he can barely lift his head and his limbs are still much too heavy. In a few moments, maybe… long enough to get air back into his systems. Just enough so he can get to his feet.
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Post by Mirage on Nov 9, 2008 21:03:33 GMT -5
Mirage winces at Swerve's words, but he can't say he's surprised. The spy isn't quite making the connection that Swerve is more concerned about Mirage getting hurt than angry at him.
"I deserve that, I suppose," he says quietly. Mirage glances up at the green mass. It seems to be creeping closer again, though much more slowly than before. "But if you can't move, I'll have to carry you. This place isn't safe." The spy shifts so that he can get a better look at Swerve's damages. He reaches out, not quite touching Swerve's leg.
"Be careful, Hairsplitter, it looks like that mess is abrasive at the least. Any ideas about it yet?"
To Swerve, Mirage explains, "Your Decepticons came through as well. I'm working with their Spinister at the moment."
Speaking of: //He isn't in any shape to move on his own, but he's being...reluctant to let me help him. Might take us both.//
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Spinister-3
Cadet
"I live for the day when no one has to fear."
Posts: 79
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Post by Spinister-3 on Nov 9, 2008 21:49:47 GMT -5
Hairsplitter pokes closer to the moss - and it eats though his finger armour. He pulls away, quickly, but slowly enough that the moss brushes his finger... and does nothing. Against all better logic, he pokes it again with his bare finger. The moss does nothing. He comments, blinking, "Huh - eats through metal and leaves flesh alone. How peculiar. May I suggest that it is highly inimical to robot-kind?"
Spinister radios, voice firm, //He needs a medic. Shame that there aren't any here. He'll have to settle for me.//
A fair distance away, he decloaks and approaches Swerve. Is this tactically stupid? Yes. But he doesn't want to scare Swerve. he lays Mirage's rifle back, along his shoulder, and he pulls out his toolkit.
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Swerve-3
Rookie
Maintain the Light
Posts: 169
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Post by Swerve-3 on Nov 10, 2008 17:06:03 GMT -5
Mirage's offer of help only drives home how much the constable is weary of being a burden.
"I'm sorry," Swerve wheezes as he looks up sidelong at the spy – and then at his garish cohort. Laid out and immobile is not how Swerve would've liked to make his first impression. "I just need… a few seconds. I'll be able to walk if I can just cool down a little." And as Spinister hauls out what looks, from Swerve's skewed horizontal perspective, like a toolkit, concern again turns the constable's voice rough. "Don't! Don't, please." He tries to get one elbow under him so he can prop himself up. "Too hot," he adds, giving them both looks of contrition. "You… could be hurt." But he can already get some cooperation from his sluggish motor systems and his temperature is ticking down tenth by tenth while his ventilation fans keen at the workload and both coolant pumps hum with the strain.
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