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Post by Impactor/"Imp" on Jul 13, 2010 16:33:57 GMT -5
OOC: Day 18. The Event Horizon. This will be a private thread for about 2-3 rounds, then be open to all good guys.A blasted wreck of a Wrecker struggles against radiation levels intense enough to burn through circuitry in mere seconds. A dead mech gathers all his force of will, all his self, to walk only a few steps, just a few steps, almost too far. He throws himself against a control panel and struggles to keep his fingers working for just a few moments more, sliding down the lever to deactivate the reactor, pressing one more button, twisting one more knob. And then, knowing his job is finally done, he falls against the console and starts to slide down it. With a sense of immense relief, he waits to leave a world he no longer has any part of, a world he'd willingly sacrifice his unlife for. And he does leave that world. But not in the way he was expecting to. He falls to the rocks below, the console that was half-supporting him suddenly gone, and groans. Despite his weakness, even unconsciousness is denied him. Unlife, unwanted, remains. Note: Impactor is in pretty rough condition, as this is pulled from the end of the Meltdown storyline. Here's a link to his current state.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jul 13, 2010 16:56:10 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron really shouldn't be in tank mode while on Rock Watch. Literally anyone could drop in and see him. However, it's getting towards the end of the shift, and his turret itches, so he's transformed to demonstrate, complaining, "I really just need to knuckle under and do a proper boresighting, but I don't even remember how to do that, I've avoided it so long."
He doesn't mind talking about his alternate mode related issues with Perceptor as much as he does in general because Perceptor has known what Emirate Xaaron is for a while, ever since Perceptor sorted out his transformation glitch, and besides, Emirate Xaaron called Perceptor on also being a suspiciously martial scientist after he saw Perceptor-3 in a third mode.
Then, the moment Emirate Xaaron looks away from the rocks, there's something on them. He immediately asks Perceptor, "Did you see-" -him arrive? but he stops dead before he can finish.
Is that? Oh no, it simply can't be! But if it was, if it is...
The mis-aligned turret in question shakes a bit, and the treads hitch.
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Post by Perceptor on Jul 13, 2010 17:09:16 GMT -5
Even less likely than Xaaron hanging about in his tank mode is Perceptor doing likewise. That the both of them are at the same time is... almost boggling.
Except that Perceptor had assumed his own at Xaaron's complaint about his boresighting, risking the fact that the shift had been long and rather pleasantly uneventful. "It's simple, really. Merely choose a distant point that you may utilize as a focal point for--"
And suddenly, it's no longer uneventful. There's a rather battered, melted in some places (and still hot, in fact) body collapsed upon the rocks. Perceptor's barrel swivels to face the body, as well, as he examines it; it is not a familiar body to him, though.
But, hey, congratulations, Impactor! You have a red tank pointed right at you!
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Post by Impactor/"Imp" on Jul 13, 2010 17:27:14 GMT -5
Impactor is, indeed, very hot.
Yowza!
There's a moment of disorientation as he tries to process the change in environment - not the easiest of things, since his senses are all rather dulled, anyway. Thus, it takes a few moments to realize that he's not alone.
Finally, he moves. Just his head at first.
Tanks. Two of them. One... older Tarnish model? Maybe? It's hard to see the details... his optics aren't quite functioning right. The other, red tank.
Red tank.
"...ssSsePticon," he hisses out. Then he croaks the word, "Flaaaame."
With his single hand, he starts to struggle to push himself up.
He's died twice, and even now he can't just lay down. Even now, the battle isn't over.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jul 13, 2010 17:59:29 GMT -5
Whenever Perceptor says something is simple, it is really the opposite, and Emirate Xaaron would say as much were he not completely and utterly distracted. Springer pole-dancing on Shockwave's cannon mode could not distract Emirate Xaaron more than he is distracted right now, though that might manage to be a more disturbing image.
After all, that is abominably indecent, and the tableau before him is just a zombie, perfectly normal. But it's not just a zombie, it's... it's...
Emirate Xaaron cries out, sounding at once elated and half-strangled, as if attending a factory release and a funeral ceremony rolled into one, "Impactor!"
Trembling, he rises up into his robot mode, which is still a little painful, despite Perceptor's best work, a little rickety and ratcheting, and he rushes over to the corpse, kneels beside it, and tries to wrap his arms around those maimed shoulders in a tight hug, not caring what Perceptor may think and not caring if the heat slags his own armour.
If zombie Impactor tries to kill him again, Emirate Xaaron is going to feel very foolish and then feel nothing at all, because Impactor has always had very, very good aim with that harpoon.
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Post by Perceptor on Jul 13, 2010 18:51:41 GMT -5
Perceptor is rather glad that Xaaron had not mentioned that other image, precisely because it would have disturbed him right into a full systems reboot.
The body... is still alive. There is no possible way that a body that badly damaged could still be functioning. Perceptor is certain of it. He's not even certain he would have the faintest idea where to even begin repairs... Should repairs even be attempted?
He's maundering, and there's Xaaron, flinging himself at the body that just hissed something about burning Decepticons... Rodimus will kill Perceptor if he allows Xaaron to be killed!
He, too, transforms back to robot mode, but instead of rushing in as Xaaron has done, he heads for the intercom system on the wall; alive or dead, that body that Xaaron is hugging so tightly, is hot, and not just by temperature. Hitting the button, he opens a channel to Medical. "Long Haul, prepare a decontainment unit, please," he orders. "Make that two."
"Damnit, Xaaron," he growls as he turns back to the pair. "You were a nuclear physicist! You should know better than to hug a radiocatively contaminated hot mechanism!"
Hopefully Impactor has not managed to spear Xaaron. And hopefully Xaaron isn't melting. And if either or both are happening? They're going to need three decon units.
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Post by Impactor/"Imp" on Jul 13, 2010 19:21:40 GMT -5
Impactor manages to get halfway up to his hands and knees - which, given his condition, is a considerable feat - when suddenly the Tarnish tank transforms into...
"...XaArooOn?!" he croaks out in shock before he's grabbed in a hug. He collapses again, this time falling against Emirate Xaaron, before he notices that the other tank has transformed into... Perceptor?!
That is totally not the red Autobot scientist that's supposed to be here.
Something is very, very wrong, and it just keeps getting weirder when Perceptor calls one of the Constructicons over the radio.
"Hnh?" the voice at the other end grunts out, confused. "Eh, yeah, yeah, it'll be ready in a sec. You on the rocks?"
Impactor's head hurts. Granted, his brain module is half blown away, so that's a given, but now it hurts even more. He starts to struggle once more to right himself, but doesn't yet manage to break the embrace. "...wha...?"
(But don't worry, Perceptor. No harpooning yet.)
OOC: Open thread. Possibly not for long. Long Haul posed... well, because I play him, too.
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Post by Springer on Jul 13, 2010 19:33:06 GMT -5
Springer wanders in, face buried in a datapad, leaning against the door facing once he's in the doorway. "Hey, Xaaron, here to relie--"
Springer is cut off when he looks up, dropping his datapad and stumbling forward a bit. "...wha... Impactor?!" he spits out, then turns around, closing and locking the door on impulse. He then turns back toward the room, positioning himself in front of the door, ready in case Impactor was to rush the door.
Of all the 'bots to show up here...
-----
OOC: Thread is still open, but the door is locked!
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jul 13, 2010 19:54:33 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron does not appear to be melting, though Impactor is a bit uncomfortably scorching to the touch, but hugging a red-hot zombie on a pile of rocks is par for the course, considering that Emirate Xaaron's hugged people in front of a Wrecker firing squad before.
He chastises, "Perceptor, really. Have a heart! I'll wash off later. Considering all that Impactor has done for Cybertron, done for me, can I do less?" Emirate Xaaron murmurs, desperate and pleading, "C'mon, stay with me, we'll get some medics in here, and..."
Okay, so there's Springer to relieve Emirate Xaaron from his shift, but what did Springer just say? Emirate Xaaron whips his head around and says incredulously, "...and Springer, you lied to me?"
Takes one liar to call another.
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Post by Perceptor on Jul 13, 2010 20:19:51 GMT -5
"Yes, Long Haul, we are at the rocks. And best to make that three units," he calls out.
"Considering that I do not yet know what he has accomplished, and really only know that you recognize each other..." Why is he even arguing?
Wait, did Xaaron seriously just get to chastise Perceptor for not being compassionate enough? It's beginning to look a lot like Perceptor needs a vacation from all this madness.
"Yes, you will," Perceptor agrees to Xaaron's comment about washing. "hence why I had Long Haul ready the decontamination units for us. Now, let us get him out of the rocks before he receives any additional damage."
Wait... if this is someone from Xaaron's reality - an assumption based upon their immediate recognition of one another - then should he not have a brain module? But...
"How are you even functioning?" he gasps as he joins them both to attempt assisting Impactor out of the tangle of Cybertron he's landed upon.
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Post by Impactor/"Imp" on Jul 13, 2010 20:49:59 GMT -5
"Right then," Long Haul's voice answers over the intercom. "I'll be right down there in a moment."
Impactor really isn't in any shape to be rushing anywhere. In fact, despite managing a fair bit of agility before he had gone into the reactor control room, by now he's not even in shape for a proper zombie shamble.
The new arrival gets his attention, and Impactor turns his head, instantly recognizing the green robot. How can he not? How can he not know the robot whose words and whose faith brought Impactor back from the abyss? Pulled him back from oblivion?
"SssssprinGer..." Impactor gasps out.
But... why is he looking at Impactor like that? Like... like Impactor were a Beserker about to fall to the 4,000,000 Year Itch? Before Springer had talked him down, that was understandable, but now?
Impactor stares up at Springer for a long moment, mouth open, one good optic uncomprehending. Something inside cracks - this time, not something physical - and he comes to the only reasonable conclusion before him.
He slumps against Emirate Xaaron, optics dimming. At Perceptor's shocked question, he mutters, "M'not. Dead again," he croaks out. "Back in Hell." He pauses. "Funny I didn't... 'member it... fr'm last time."
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Post by Springer on Jul 13, 2010 21:24:54 GMT -5
Springer gets a better look at Impactor, and as the zombot calls out his name, the Triplechanger's oil runs cold, and he backs into the door. "Not again....not again!" he gibbers, fumbling for a pistol from subspace, pointing it at Impactor. There's a shaky look of fear in his optics, as he mentally flashes back to the Gillanan swamp.
...though...
Perceptor seems fine, and he was there as well, and Xaaron is embracing the Zombimpactor. Slowly, Springer lowers his gun, though still a bit shaky, he looks over at Xaaron.
"...I...I had my reasons."
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jul 13, 2010 21:46:14 GMT -5
"He only saved Cybertron from exploding and my life - twice - helped assassinate a Decepticon warlord and has killed more Decepticons than most people will ever meet," Emirate Xaaron snaps at Perceptor when Perceptor demands to know what Impactor has done.
He starts to rise from his kneel into a crouch, intending to help Impactor up so he can take the big lunk over to the medical ward, but Impactor slumps against him and looks rather downcast. This would be a time for Marlowe, if only Xaaron knew it.
Why this is hell, nor am I out of it. Think'st thou that I, who saw the face of God and tasted the eternal joy of heaven, am not tormented with ten thousand hells in being deprived of everlasting bliss?
Maybe not.
Instead, he just says softly, "Maybe so, old friend, maybe so, but even in Hell, there is much to be done."
Then, Springer draws a gun and points it at Impactor, and something just snaps inside Emirate Xaaron's head. Trying to gently let Impactor down, Emirate Xaaron rises to his feet and rushes Springer, trying to grab him and shake him, hard, heedless of the fact that Springer has a pistol out. He demands, "What's gotten into you, Springer!? Put that away this instant!"
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Post by Perceptor on Jul 13, 2010 21:56:26 GMT -5
Perceptor snorts and shakes his head. "No, I assure you that you are not," he replies to Impactor. "You are on the Event Horizon, at the moment, and... well, that will all come later when we have you more functional and aware."
Perceptor has not yet figured out that Impactor... really isn't quite alive. He seems far too lucid to be a zombie, even if there is no way that he should be functional. As for the slurring? Well, with all the damage, Perceptor would be surprised if there was not some slurring.
He'll be in for an unpleasant surprise when he does finally figure it out, though. At least this isn't his mistake come back to haunt him. This time.
"Springer, so help me, if you shoot my patient, I will weld you to a bulkhead and instruct Mirage to give you lessons on deportment. Now, Xaaron. What do I need to know here?"
Because Xaaron recognized Impactor despite the damage. Obviously Xaaron must know what Impactor's issues must be so that Perceptor can begin fixing them.
Well, y'know, besides the half-a-brain-module thing.
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Post by Impactor/"Imp" on Jul 13, 2010 22:24:27 GMT -5
Impactor is still having a rather hard time even following everything that's going on.
Considering his current state, that should probably be forgiven.
He continues to stare dumbly at Springer as Springer draws a weapon on him.
Hell. Definitely hell.
Perceptor makes some attempt to convince him that he's not dead, but as Emirate Xaaron begins grappling Springer, Impactor dismisses that.
But Emirate Xaaron's right. Gods damn it, Emirate Xaaron's right again. Even in Hell, he has a duty. If there's even a remote chance that that's the real Emirate Xaaron and the real Springer, he can't let them hurt each other. He starts to try to push himself up, finding it monumentally difficult to even get to his hands (well, hand) and knees.
"Xaaron," he croaks out, "have... you losssst your t-tiny mind, again? Let-t the boy go. Ssspringer. Put-t-t that g-gun away."
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