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Post by Victoria Raines on Dec 29, 2008 23:36:41 GMT -5
Semi-private thread. Please ask before posting in.
Shockwave has been watching the battle unfold with no small amount of interest. After his encounter with Emirate Xaaron, the gunformer had found himself a decent enough vantage point one which still provided some small measure of concealment. Shockwave...is not overtly pleased with how things have been going. Yes, that upstart Prime appears to be getting his comeuppance, but other things have not progressed at the pace which Shockwave would prefer.
When all is done and settled, he and Starscream need to have a discussion.
Briefly, Shockwave considers adding his own firepower to the pile below, but decides against it. Too much confusion, and beyond that, he wants to make sure that dark Prime is dead beyond recovery. And their Prime has the best chance of doing that. There is some curiosity, a slight hunger which dims that single yellow optic as Shockwave considers what might be happening below; two Matrixes clashing, what power must be at play below!
The faintest of sounds off to one side makes Shockwave turn his head. His optic flickers
"I would exercise caution, if I were you"
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Perceptor-3
Rookie
Curiosity killed... everyone else. After a lengthy examination, of course.
Posts: 139
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Post by Perceptor-3 on Dec 30, 2008 6:56:34 GMT -5
Unlike a certain other red Autobot scientist, this Perceptor is hiding from the fighting. He does not think of it as cowardice, merely that he is, as a non-combatant, exercising appropriate caution and care.
Why risk the Alternate Autobots' primary medic, after all?
That he has no desire to see himself placed in the position of requiring his Prime's... special gifts... once again, is also a considerable factor in his actions. In fact, if his Prime were to meet an... untimely end at the hands of the shining knight alternate, well, now, that would be a shame, would it not?
There is still some draw to him, to that place within him that Rodimus now owns, to protect his Prime, however. To keep his Master safe both for his Master's sake, and for his own. What will happen to him, to that piece of him which his dark Prime now holds so tightly, should Rodimus fall?
The curious part of him chafes in agreement with the part of him that desperately craves freedom once more; he wants to know. The rest of him, his intellect, his reason... they are afraid. He has been leashed with a spiked collar, and the spikes are turned inward. What happens when the Master is thrown so far from him that he cannot follow? Will the cord between them break, driving those spikes so deep within that he will never be healed? or, worse still, will the cord not break, hurling Perceptor along in his Prime's wake?
Perceptor avoids fighting whenever possible, preferring his poisons and his drugs as a means to circumvent physical conflict. This battle, however, has far too much resting upon the outcome for him, and so he seeks a vantage, a safe vantage, from which that a single perfectly aimed shot might tip the balance one way or another.
Unfortunately, his chosen vantage is already occupied.
Lust and anger and greed and want all rise up within him as Shockwave's voice finds him. His Decepticon. His match.
"As you are?" he asks smoothly of the Decepticon perched far above the dangers of the battle below.
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Post by Victoria Raines on Dec 30, 2008 10:53:05 GMT -5
"I am," Shockwave replies just as smoothly, turning his body slightly toward Perceptor as he does so. This allows him to quite casually not-quite-point his cannon at the scientist. Damaging this most....intriguing version of Perceptor would be a shame, but the alliance has been formally nullified. Shockwave knows exactly how dangerous the other's light cannon can be, and that neverminding Perceptor's chemical tricks. Best to not take chances.
"Your Prime, it seems, has met not just his equal but his match. Yet he gets no assistance from any member of his own faction." Shockwave makes a small tsking sound, "I tried to tell him fear was not the way to inspire loyalty. He may die here, and without even the benefit of having his pets and slaves die with him."
Deliberate words meant to prick, and Shockwave watches Perceptor closely. The Autobot might think Shockwave his, might want with a burning passion to own the Decepticon scientist, but that can not be allowed. For while they are an almost perfect match to one another, Perceptor is bound by chains which Shockwave will die before accepting.
"Do you intend to help your master by removing a threat, Perceptor?" he purrs, "Or is it your own agenda which brings you here?"
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Perceptor-3
Rookie
Curiosity killed... everyone else. After a lengthy examination, of course.
Posts: 139
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Post by Perceptor-3 on Jan 1, 2009 11:50:19 GMT -5
Perceptor smiles slightly as Shockwave turns, edging that cannon hand more carefully in line with himself. Cautious, cautious Shockwave, exactly as Perceptor had expected. Always so controlled and calculating is his Shockwave. So controlled. Who would guess at the depths of real passion hidden deep within?
Or cruelty.
Perceptor's optics narrow, hands curling into fists as Shockwave pricks at him. He will not give the other the victory of an outburst, however. He will hold his temper, his anger, his hatred of his Prime in check and tame it to his will. Had he any choice in the matter, knowing now what he knows, he would not have accepted these chains, either, gladly accepting death instead.
He was not given that choice, unfortunately. He is already damned, but he will now allow Shockwave the satisfaction of pricking at him so.
"The Prime is young and filled with the arrogance of holding a power which he mistakenly believes is infinite," Perceptor replies with a faint head bob in lieu of a shrug. "But you are well aware of that, already, are you not? Why else would you be so careful to maintain your distance from him?"
After all, being within the Prime's sphere of influence must be quite unsettling to one who shackles his emotions so fiercely.
"Are you a threat, Shockwave?" Perceptor counters, tone a match for the Decepticon's, warm and cloying like sweet high grade. He does not, however, abandon the shelter of the rocks shielding most of his body.
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Post by Victoria Raines on Jan 2, 2009 22:32:05 GMT -5
"No power is infinite," Shockwave murmurs, shifting his position so that he can watch both Perceptor and the goings one below. "Not even a god's." Does Shockwave know what powers the Dark Prime? No. But he knows this Prime thinks himself on par with Primus himself. If Shockwave knew, if he even suspected... he would find a way to destroy that Prime and the Matrix he carried, burn it all, salt the ashes and scatter them to the four corners.
And then turn his attentions to the Prime of Light.
One head fin flicks back, and Shockwave answers, "Oh course I am a threat, Perceptor, to him, and even to you." He idly runs his fingertips along a rocky outcropping. "Just as you are a threat, even to me. Would you deny- What!?"
His head whips back to focus entirely on the scene unfolding below, though his cannon arm stays pointed at Perceptor. Even here, the dark flame's influence can be felt, and the rock crumbles beneath his hand as he tightens his grip. This...this is not possible. This Prime...only one other has every displayed similar abilities, and it took the hand of Primus himself to strike that one down, if Jetfire is to be believed. One word is growled out, one word which means nothing to anyone else on the planet.
"Fallen!"
That cold yellow gaze, one that burns perhaps a bit too brightly turns back to Perceptor, and this time he is blatant about aiming at the Autobot. "What is he? How is...that possible? Tell me!"
At the same time, he issues an order on Decepticon broadband.
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Perceptor-3
Rookie
Curiosity killed... everyone else. After a lengthy examination, of course.
Posts: 139
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Post by Perceptor-3 on Jan 4, 2009 21:43:54 GMT -5
Even if Perceptor were truly in a mind to answer Shockwave truthfully, he is no longer in any state to do so, as the black fire whips out in seeking tendrils which find a familiar anchor within Perceptor, even so far above on the rim's edge. Shockwave may feel that dark rage washing across him, however he does not have a sliver of that very same darkness already housed within him. He is still free, for all that the influence of the darkness calls to emotions within the Decepticon that he would rather see locked deeply away.
Blue optics flare white hot as the rock he shelters behind crumbles under both hands, seizing the stone like one drowning would clutch a timber in the surf. Perceptor is vulnerable, caught in the throes of his Master's call, caught in the echo of rage and fury that he wears like a chain, barely able to even parse the question hurled at him, let alone the cannon pinning him in place.
"NO!"
Less a shout, than a strangled burst of static as Perceptor struggles to fight the draw and is glad that he is not the Hound, who has given far more of himself to their Master than the mere sliver that the scientist has. It is the battle and his own fiery lust that has weakened his defenses, and he is too near the dark Prime; he feels it more keenly than he otherwise might.
"Your every fear, made manifest," he finally manages to grate out with a bitter, bitter laugh, and his optics are still too bright as he stares unflinchingly down that pale purple cannon. "Madness. Conquest. He is--"
A single shot. The sound of it should have been lost in the crash of the battle, and yet, it is as loud to Perceptor as a clap of thunder in silence. Rather, it is the shattering of one specific brain module down below that fills his audials and sends his voice bursting forth in a choked off cry of mingled joy and despair.
His Master's body is dead. His Master is now free. The universe will burn. The universe will burn, and Perceptor... Perceptor has a ringside seat to observe it all crumble into Chaos.
How glorious.
NO!
Shockwave is forgotten as he grabs his head in both hands and shakes, face twisted into a rictus of fury as he fights that lash of darkness curling around his core. NO! Get OUT! Get out. get out. out.
The Bright Prime. Perhaps he...
he cannot... he cannot... he can--
Starscream crashes to the crater's floor below, seared out of the sky by the power of... of himself. His Alternate. His Alternate who turns that same power upon--
Perhaps thoughts flash through his processor. Perhaps even this action is too swift for thought. There is barely an instant to track the trajectory of those twinned shots fired into the crater toward the tangle of black fire and Bright Prime and the Darkness' new Hosts, when it is answered with a lance of condensed light fired from Perceptor's shoulder. One hand still clutches at his helm as brilliant white optics stare madly down below at looming disaster, and wait for the crash of eternity collapsing in on itself to carry him away.
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Post by Victoria Raines on Jan 5, 2009 23:53:21 GMT -5
"That is not an answer! Tell me-," he breaks off as one Starscream goes crashing down, and the other...fires into the darkness. The gunformer goes off on the radio, first at Starscream, then at Blitzwing. Shockwave is rattled, more than rattled. Being in the Prime's presence pricked at his emotional barriers yes, but Shockwave could handle that. However, this is no mere prick. This is a battering ram, the force akin to using a sledge hammer to crack an egg. Every anger, every pain, every want has been pushed to the surface, and Shockwave trembles with an almost tangible need to harm.
And Perceptor has so kindly offered Shockwave his back.
He closes the distance, closes on Perceptor, hand wrapping around that scope, the pressure just shy of collapsing the metal. His cannon arm wraps around the Autobot, the tip coming to rest under Perceptor's chin, forcing his head back.
"Starscream is mine to punish, not yours," Shockwave hisses into Perceptor's audial. "What is happening down there, Perceptor? What has that Demon Prime done?"
Manhandling of Perc-3 done with permission.
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Perceptor-3
Rookie
Curiosity killed... everyone else. After a lengthy examination, of course.
Posts: 139
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Post by Perceptor-3 on Jan 6, 2009 0:34:06 GMT -5
Pain surprises Perceptor as he feels fingertips dig sharply into his precious scope, a hot, hard body slamming against his own, grasping him, pulling him close with the firm tip of a menacing weapon jammed up into his neck. Fury, rage, and a hot, dark hunger batters at his mind as he presses himself back into Shockwave's arms, scalpel materializing in one hand as it flashes downward, blade sinking into one thigh braced against his own by purest reflex.
Oh, his Decepticon... Such wrath. Perceptor wants it, is teetering on the edge of madness too keen to fully comprehend the danger he is in. All he is most cognizant of is the hot press of the Decepticon scientist cleaving to him and the low, predatory growl in that sibilant demand.
"Then punish him, damn you," Perceptor spits back, tilting his head back even further than Shockwave demands, to the very edges of his design limitations, mouth snapping closed mere millimeters from one headfin, almost in a nip. One meant to hurt. To taste. "Or I will twist your pretty little Commander into a doll. He will undo it. Undo it all, the fool."
His free hand rises, fingers curling around the base of that cannon where it joins the arm, tightening warningly. Yes, Shockwave can hurt him, can tear at his scope, crush the lenses and shatter the barrel, but Perceptor can choke that shot Shockwave threatens him with and shatter the Decepticon's weapon into shard and splinters, too. He might even walk away, albeit wounded, but a little twist of that scalpel promises that Shockwave will not escape unscathed, either.
He laughs. He laughs that bitter, rueful laugh of maddened desperation, of a joke he knows the punchline to and that the others have not yet guessed. To their sorrow, oh yes.
"So close, you are! So very close!" he cackles, arching back against his captor. "Do you hear the song, Shockwave? Can you feel it singing? Can you?!"
ooc: damage to Shockwave done with permission.
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Post by Victoria Raines on Jan 6, 2009 12:58:30 GMT -5
That blade biting into his plating draws a sharp hiss from Shockwave, and for a moment his optic dims in reaction to an emotion that has nothing to do with pain or anger. The way the other scientist arches back into Shockwave's body, the dark promise in Perceptor's tone and his hand digging into Shockwave's cannon arm, it all threatens to make the gunformer forget that they are in the midst of a battlefield.
Threatens, but does not, as Shockwave forces control through by main force of will. He will not allow whatever that Devil below has done to rob him of his control to such an extent. He is Shockwave and by Primus he will not allow himself to fall so low, not for any reason. No matter how strong the desire to claim may be.
This does not mean that Shockwave will not take advantage of Perceptor's own lack of control, of the Autobot's own desires. The crushing grip on that scope does not lesson, but Shockwave begins to rub his thumb in firm circles against the scope's casing. He jerks Perceptor back even harder against him, purring, "I will deal with Starscream in my own time, and in manner of my own choosing. I have made my point, and if he chooses to ignore it, than we shall see what happens beyond. But what will he undo, my Perceptor, what do you fear so much yet want so badly?" For both emotions are writ so clearly upon the Autobot now. "I hear no song, I hear a cacophony, chaos pricking at my every sense, tearing at my controls, and I will not have that, Perceptor."
Shockwave pulses just enough energy through his cannon to warm it, pushes the hot tip of it harder against Perceptor's neck. "Enough of riddles and madness. I have no desire to see you destroyed, something you well know. But I am just as skilled in rebuilding bodies as you are, Perceptor."
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Perceptor-3
Rookie
Curiosity killed... everyone else. After a lengthy examination, of course.
Posts: 139
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Post by Perceptor-3 on Jan 6, 2009 21:00:44 GMT -5
As Shockwave's thumb begins massaging so soothingly against his scope, Perceptor drags that scalpel slowly upward, utterly heedless of whatever may lie in its path under that thick armor plating. There is too much tension in his body, he is contorted too far already, to be able to truly relax, and yet, he almost seems to melt into Shockwave's grasp at that soft voice murmuring into his audios.
"Then you hear it," he whispers, optics fading back to their normal intensity from fever-bright. "You hear the song. Hateful jangle, but sweet to Chaos' core, yes..."
Each soft word finds him just that much more limp within the Decepticon's grasp, the scalpel blade twisting in Shockwave's thigh, lifting out only to stab unconsciously in again as he cuts short furrows into his rival's plating.
One fuel line pinches uncomfortably under the press of that cannon tip, urging him to turn his head, bare his throat even further for Shockwave, but there is nowhere left to go. His cables are stretched to their limits already, straining against the weapon beginning to pulse at his throat. Pulse...
He can feel the thrum of Shockwave's powerplant rumbling through his own frame, transferred from chest to back where Perceptor is arched so tightly against Shockwave. He still wants to taste that power, to lay bare the Decepticon's circuits and pluck them like harpstrings.
"He will undo the battle," Perceptor murmurs hazily as the pulse thrums counterpoint to the darkness. "Assist Chaos. Snuff Light. That cannot.. cannot..."
Darkness slashes at his thoughts, tightening around them, and he stiffens in Shockwave's grasp with a strangled cry of pain.
Though Shockwave is the stronger of them both, for a single moment, his own limitations vanish, and with a sudden heave and shove, Shockwave is tumbled to the ground with Perceptor falling upon him. Fluid drips from the slash rent into his own chin by the scrape of that cannon tip, but he ignores it, shunting pain away as soon as his damage control systems indicate that it is not a serious wound. The scalpel flashes out, stabbing downward, spearing Shockwave's hand to the ground, right through the thickest part of the heel, sinking into the rock below with a sizzle before that handle is bent over, pinning the appendage in place. Fingers sink sharply into the base of Shockwave's cannon, into the hand's wrist, pinning arms down as well, as Perceptor braces his knees upon either side of the Decepticon's sides and leans down.
"You claim them as yours," he growls softly, optcs fever-bright once again as he tucks his feet up around and across Shockwave's knees. He does not care who sees him there, sprawled atop Shockwave, pinning him to the ground. He will seize this one small opportunity to strike back before it is snatched from his grasp, or before Shockwave heaves him off to shatter his core with a single brilliant violet blast. It hardly matters now, does it?
"You claim him," he hisses, leaning in to rub his cheek against that single optic casing for just a moment. "Then I lay these chains at your feet. You think I took them on so willingly?" he snaps, barking out that bitter laugh once again. "I played his game, yes, but only that. You are not the only clever one to stand aside for convenience sake, my Shockwave. Oh, no."
"But now..." Fingers tighten upon wrist and cannon hard enough to begin buckling the metal there, and Perceptor presses himself down, chest to chest, just to feel that powerplant's hum. Presses down hard enough that those fuel lines at Shockwave's throat are so temptingly within reach, and he wants a taste so badly. "Rebuild my body, then. It is not my body's integrity which I fear."
His mouth seizes that near line, biting down hard enough to rip a chunk of that conduit free if - when - Shockwave manages to throw him off.
ooc: again, handling of Shockwave done with permission.
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Post by Victoria Raines on Jan 7, 2009 11:48:05 GMT -5
This then, is the difference between the so-similar scientists. Shockwave abandons his emotions for the impartiality of logic. Perceptor revels in his like a Seeker dancing with lightening. The sudden assault by the chaos-filled dark had broken barriers, sent their darkest emotions rushing to the fore, but where Shockwave fights to ignore and repress, Perceptor gives himself over. In his right mind, perhaps the Autobot would not be so foolhardy.
Passion and violence are close cousins, true, but the pull of the chaos song is lessening, albeit slowly, and Shockwave struggles to push his emotional programs down. At least until he finds himself pinned like some macabre insect, Perceptor perched atop him.
Now there is only anger, true anger and pain. His hand is his least shielded, most sensitive part, as he requires a high sensitivity to manage the delicate work he performs. That scalpel plunging through it actually tears a sharp cry of pain from Shockwave before he can stop himself. The distraction of that excruciating pain means he hardly hears or notices Perceptor's words and actions. At least not until Perceptor bites almost through a fuel line, and Shockwave's optic flares brilliant as the sun.
"You dare!" he hisses, "You dare attempt to use me?!?" Shockwave is the stronger, and Perceptor's little scalpel can not hold him pinned. The scalpel rips through more sensitive lines as Shockwave jerks his hand up, but he ignores the pain now, lost in white hot rage. There is enough motor function left for him to attempt to grab that already mangled scope and twist, to try and rip it completely from its mount and fling it aside. He will pay dearly for the action, as his hand will be almost useless afterward, but Shockwave finds he does not care.
He manages to fight that grip on his cannon enough to tilt it up just enough, just barely enough. Shockwave fires, aiming directly into Perceptor's side and ignoring how much damage he himself will take from the blast.
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Perceptor-3
Rookie
Curiosity killed... everyone else. After a lengthy examination, of course.
Posts: 139
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Post by Perceptor-3 on Jan 8, 2009 7:01:13 GMT -5
Triumph as sweet as his own most potent vintages washes through Perceptor at that unwilling cry of pain torn from his adversary, his drug. He already knows that he will pay, and dearly, for that victory, but there is madness keening through his systems, and he, like Shockwave, finds that he does not care.
Perhaps Shockwave will be the victor and destroy him. Free him.
Except that he can never truly be free again, even in death. Only distance might offer some hope of salvation, and perhaps not even that, but it is far preferable to giving over to the dark oblivion of Chaos that calls to the shadow within.
As expected, Shockwave surges upward under him, ripping himself free, and there is murder in his voice as he snarls with righteous fury. The pain of that ravaged hand seizing upon his precious scope is almost as maddening as the song still coursing through his mind, but sharper. Sharp enough to finally drive a wedge of reason into his whirling thoughts, to awaken instinct.
Perceptor twists, echoing Shockwave's earlier cry of pain with one of his own as he feels the barrel of his scope first begin to crumple in that grasp, feels fingers rip into it like hooks, and then, horrifyingly, feels it begin to rip free of its mount. Wires spark as they tear free, metal groans as it shreds under the assault, the bright violent burn of that cannon shot glances across Perceptor's side, barely skimming across the tray above his hinges as he rolls free.
His scope remains behind, clutched firmly in Shockwave's grasp. This time, it is the dark doppelganger who must go without his primary function.
Survival instinct sends Perceptor skittering for cover, hissing as dust and dirt grind into the exposed circuits bared by the violent sundering of his scope. He is, however, for the moment, shielded from another blast of Shockwave's cannon, hunkered down out of sight, and already casting about for a safe escape route, when he begins to laugh.
Oh, it is a pained laugh, but it is vicious, cruel laughter nonetheless.
"Sauce for the goose, no? What is good for you, is not allowed for me?" Oh too much alike, these two are, for all that one seeks refuge from emotion while the other lives for it.
"Tell me, my Shockwave..." he purrs, one hand clasped over his damaged shoulder, the other over the deep sear against his side, the pain of his wounds adding a low, almost seductive rasp to his voice. "Is it the pain which enrages you so? Or that I finally forced you to feel?"
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Post by Victoria Raines on Jan 8, 2009 11:58:42 GMT -5
His hand, damaged as it is, can not maintain his grip upon Perceptor's scope for long, and it clatters to the ground as Shockwave stands. He cradles his near-useless hand under his chest, one side of which is blackened and peeling from the backlash of his own powers. Deliberately, petulantly, he steps upon that scope as he finds his own cover. Perceptor may recover the piece, but not a single lens will be salvageable.
It is lessening, that pull upon his emotions. Locks built over vorns are beginning to re-engage, but the pain is keeping his anger to the fore. More controlled, perhaps, but still there. It does not help that Starscream continues to prove exactly how shortsighted is.
"Context, you mad fool. Context is everything, and that no matter how intriguing you may be. I will suffer no such treatment lightly, Perceptor, from you or anyone," he growls.
Shockwave pulls a small tool kit from subspace; he needs to at least restore rough function to his hand. Turn off the tactile sensors, reroute the auto-repair systems so that his hand is the primary concern, jury-rig movement until he can do more- and fight the urge to go find Blitzwing and Starscream both and educate them on why this Shockwave was one of the most feared of Megatron's lieutenants.
"I suggest- argh!- I suggest you find yourself a hole, Perceptor. That song you love and fear is fading, slowly, but still fading. Your Lord and Master will fall, and you with him."
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Perceptor-3
Rookie
Curiosity killed... everyone else. After a lengthy examination, of course.
Posts: 139
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Post by Perceptor-3 on Jan 8, 2009 13:23:31 GMT -5
Perceptor scowls as he hears the disappointing sound of glass and crystal shattering, ground under a large foot. Unsurprising, that, but... irritating.
And painful. His shoulder still hurts fiercely and he feels terribly exposed without his precious scope.
"Any more than I will from you," he growls in reply, gathering himself. There is nothing worthwhile left to retrieve of his scope, and without his most powerful weapon, he needs to find better cover. Especially if the Prime truly falls.
"I am more resiliant than he, or you, believe."
One hand still cupped over the damaged shoulder mount, the red Autobot scuttles away, leaving Shockwave to his jury-rigged repairs.
ooc: out of thread.
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