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Post by Long Haul on Jun 30, 2010 8:42:10 GMT -5
"I'd love to," Long Haul grunts as Swerve tells him to 'bring the slagger over here,' "but right now this hauler is gettin' haule-" *CLONG!
So now Long Haul is not only being held in Bonecrusher's grip, he's being beaten with his own leg. The strike, which hits him across the head, dislodges his shoulder-mounted driver's cab entirely and leaves a good sized dent in the featureless plate he calls a face. He growls and releases his grip on Bonecrusher's hand so he can clasp his fists together. Then he brings both those fists down on one of the joints of his opponent's hand with all the force he can muster, attempting to render what is likely an already weakened connection useless.
"If I gotta break yer fingers one atta time to get outta this, I will!" he roars.
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Post by Swerve on Jul 1, 2010 9:29:24 GMT -5
It's reflex for Swerve, trying to lunge forward and get himself back into the fight. He tries – he forgets how badly he's messed up, losing it in the outrage, in the heat baking his circuits. His optics gutter for a moment as he bullies tension from his limbs and keeps pushing to a chorus of ugly scraping, whining noises from beneath his hood, and if that tangle of grappling robot gets any closer, they might even feel the high temperature radiating off him, heat shimmer lost in the poor lighting.
"Little more…" he rasps, probably too low to be heard over the brawl, as he gets his good leg under him and – he isn't sure how – manages to stand. He watches Bonecrusher and Long Haul thrash about, dizzily trying to pick his target, and it may be that Long Haul is only left alone because he hates Bonecrusher much, much more. There!
Fury is the only reason Swerve finds a way to make his leap, aiming to latch onto Bonecrusher's head with both arms. The first thing he'll do if he can just keep hold? He's going for the optics.
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Post by Bonecrusher/Bane Crusher on Jul 2, 2010 13:14:14 GMT -5
His finger joint snaps as Long Haul's fists smash down on it and Bonecrusher rears back with a howl, his hand spasming open. His repair mechanisms have shifted something inside him back into place and he's back to merely feeling dizzy instead of being incapable of telling up from down. Still, he reels, bracing the arm holding Long Haul's leg against the ground and trying to hold his balance.
It's not an easy task when your head is swimming and you've only got a single leg to balance on. Still, he might have managed it, but Swerve takes moment to make a flying leap at his head. Bonecrusher goes toppling over once more, with a scorching hot Autobot clinging to him. The little slagger burns!
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Post by Long Haul on Jul 2, 2010 21:30:42 GMT -5
Long Haul clatters to the ground as Bonecrusher releases him, and spends a moment trying to push himself up. Without a leg, he's pretty limited in locomotion (since that was his fourth wheel as well), but at the least, his remaining limbs are doing well enough. As Bonecrusher topples over with a Swerve-shaped facehugger, Long Haul's optic-band both widens and brightens.
"Hey. May be able to do that holdin' down thing this fight after all," he observes before he scrambles after the two in a three-limbed crawl. As he gets nearer, he starts making grabs for whatever part of Bonecrusher he can get closest to every time he lifts his hand. Lift-grab-miss-lower-for-support-start-all-over.
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Post by Swerve on Jul 4, 2010 20:48:15 GMT -5
It takes more of Swerve than it should to hang on when Bonecrusher falls down, delaying his plans to rip out the slagger's visual cluster. The tumble swings him round from side to front as the ground rushes up and his pipes catch for a moment on Bonecrusher's window frames; he feels some welds give way, pulled too hard, and searing hot air rushes from the new gaps with a piercing shriek. He just curses.
Somehow, he dredges up the coordination to get one leg hooked over a jagged shoulder. He very nearly doesn't get the other locked into place afterwards, veering in the wrong direction himself as his balance briefly dries up. He makes a frantic grab for the same window frame that snagged his pipes to avoid being thrown.
"Nnrgh!" Metal under his fingers. He clamps down, glass digging into the seams at his knuckles, and looks around wildly until– There! Until he finds Bonecrusher's face amid the blurs and smears that make up the rest of the world. "Fuel-guzzlin' outsized–" he snarls, trying to pull himself up and into prime punching position. "–Heap of hammered slag!"
OOC: Latching onto Bonecrusher with permission.
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Post by Bonecrusher/Bane Crusher on Jul 5, 2010 22:50:00 GMT -5
"Hraaaugh!" Bonecrusher topples uncomfortably to one side, but quickly flips onto his back because there is an uncomfortably hot Autobot clinging to his face and he wants both arms free to get him off. He grudgingly drops Long Haul's leg, his other hand not in the best shape for grabbing at the moment, and snatches at Swerve, aiming to rip the little red furnace from his perch.
Fingers touch his remaining leg and he kicks out, trying to ward off Long Haul. Slagging Autobots, crawling all over him like insects! He's going to crush them like insects.
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Post by Long Haul on Jul 6, 2010 11:39:34 GMT -5
The kick slams into Long Haul's non-face, putting another dent in what should be a mostly featureless face plate.
This is not a good way to add interest to one's appearance.
He grunts and shakes his head, trying to clear it. Did something rattle around in there? Ah, well, something to worry about later.
As he starts to scramble-crawl forward, however, once more making grabs with his hand when he can, it starts to occur to him that something to worry about now is how they're going to end this thing. It seems unlikely that they'll be able to force the bruiser into a retreat, and neither Long Haul nor Swerve are in any condition to retreat themselves. That means going for a knock-out, and if Swerve and Long Haul go out, the Decepticon will undoubtedly kill them while they're vulnerable.
So they'll just have to make sure the last mechanoid standing is an Autobot.
Even if they've only got one leg to do it on.
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Post by Swerve on Jul 6, 2010 23:55:17 GMT -5
Swerve pauses in the middle of trying to smash in Bonecrusher's face as that hand reaches for him and he takes a swing at it with his pipes. The rest of the world tilts and wheels with him, throwing off his beyond overtaxed systems even more. He still has hold of that window frame, though.
"Promised," he pants, vision going blank for an instant. "I promised I'd – hang you by your slaggin' optic cable!"
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Post by Bonecrusher/Bane Crusher on Jul 8, 2010 10:28:24 GMT -5
Bonecrusher gets a surge of satisfaction as his foot connects solidly with Long Haul, but it's quickly doused as the Autobot keeps coming, grabbing at him again. At the same time, Swerve's pipes sting across his fingers, forcing a growl from him. A thread of worry finally laces through his processors. Pinned on his back beneath two Autobots while missing two of his limbs is not where he wants to be.
He starts thrashing; kicking out with his leg, trying to strike Long Haul with his elbow, snatching at Swerve again, rocking from side to side as an additional attempt to shake Swerve loose. He has to get them off and get up. As up as he can get with one leg.
"Like I care-" Grunt of effort. "-what you promised!"
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Post by Long Haul on Jul 8, 2010 12:55:32 GMT -5
Bonecrusher's elbow connects, and Long Haul is thumped on the side of his head with a mighty CLONG!
This time, however, Long Haul is ready, and he makes a grab for the arm and elbow before it can be pulled away.
(Standing there or lying there and allowing himself to be hit until he can time a good return strike is a pretty standard tactic for Long Haul, since he's a lot tougher than he is fast.)
"Y'should care!" Long Haul shouts whether he makes the grab or not. "Promises are important, y'know!"
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Post by Swerve on Jul 10, 2010 21:53:31 GMT -5
Promises are important – and very much so to Swerve. Circuits crackle and bake under the heat strain, movement grows harder by the second, and he's still trying to keep his word. He nearly goes offline before he takes another wild swing at Bonecrusher's hand when the Decepticon makes another grab for him; if he's too hot to handle, he might as well use that advantage before it does him in. Then he lets go of the window frame and makes his own grab for that damaged patch plate on the ugly guzzler's face.
"Start carin'!" he grinds out.
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Post by Bonecrusher/Bane Crusher on Jul 12, 2010 19:15:59 GMT -5
"Slagger!" Bonecrusher snarls as Long Haul latches on to his arm. He does his best to continue flailing it, but being flat on his back and damaged doesn't exactly give him great leverage to use against the strength and weight of the Autobot.
The prolonged contact with Swerve is really starting to get uncomfortable now, and Bonecrusher's cooling systems ramp up to compensate, even as his paint begins to blister. He hisses as Swerve's pipes swipe his fingers again, which morphs into outright howling as hot fingers find the patch over his empty eye socket.
Forget trying to grab the little glitch! His free hand clenches into a fist right before he tries to sock the living furnace off his face.
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Post by Long Haul on Jul 12, 2010 22:31:55 GMT -5
Now that Long Haul has Bonecrusher's arm, he does his best to cling to it with all his considerable strength. He did promise to hold the Decepticon down for Swerve, right? Hopefully, this is close enough - at least it keeps Bonecrusher from using both of his arms.
"Damn, this guy's got a temper," he observes, muttering, slightly dazed. "Kinda reminds me of Bonecrusher, y'know?"
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Post by Swerve on Jul 13, 2010 20:37:34 GMT -5
Batting at the big slagger's hand buys Swerve enough time to finally rip that patch off Bonecrusher's face. If he were more coherent, he'd mock the shoddy work and the lack of repair made to the damaged circuitry beneath it while he ripped out every last inch of wiring and cable to make a noose. If he were more coherent, he'd think to look somewhere other than his target.
Swinging his pipes doesn't save him from the punch Bonecrusher slings his way. The impact is like being T-boned; as much as Swerve hurts and burns, that blow sets off more and sharper pains – crumples his arm, compresses his elbow and shoulder joints, bursts the seams between plates down his side and throws him clear of his victim. Bonecrusher is finally rid of him as he tumbles, leaving broken yellow glass and bits of metal in his wake. He blacks out just as he hits the ground.
No matter how long anyone waits after he rolls to a stop, shattered arm caught under him at an obviously wrong angle, he won't be cursing or trying to get up again.
OOC: Out cold – so to speak – and skippable.
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Post by Bonecrusher/Bane Crusher on Jul 15, 2010 21:39:41 GMT -5
"I am Bonecrushe- hraaaugh!"
Bonecrusher would normally be gloating over having knocked Swerve off of him and out of the fight, but he's a little busy howling loudly and clutching at his face. It's not exactly comfortable to have something welded to your sensitive faceplates ripped unceremoniously off. And the last thing he needs in the middle of battle is a gaping hole in his face leading to the delicate insides of his head.
He's not trying to shake Long Haul off at the moment, he's just compulsively straining against the Autobot's hold in an attempt to cover his wound protectively with both hands.
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