Barricade
Minor
Knight of the Spastic Sword
Trust Me
Posts: 372
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Post by Barricade on Feb 13, 2011 23:26:02 GMT -5
"Fight?" Barricade laughs, aiming a slash for Drift's right elbow. "That what you--"
Wait. Just wait. Is this freak seriously confused about--
Distracted by Drift's ignorance, Barricade misses the way Drift shifts, misses the way the white mech's legs tamp down, a clear telegraph for the jump that ends up costing him a door-wing as Drift tangles in one on his way over. Barricade sprawls forward with a grunt of pain, then uses his momentum to roll back up to his feet, all humor gone as he squares off against his opponent again.
"You got no clue what it is, do you?" he hisses, crouching, swaying from foot to foot, watching Drift's optics for the telltale flicker that will give his next move away. "Even Duskwing knows what a girl is."
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Post by Drift on Feb 13, 2011 23:38:29 GMT -5
"Yes, fight." A flash of real temper. Drift has had no real education, nothing he was ever any fraggin' good at besides fighting.
Drift snarls, rolling to his feet, kicking a twisted piece of glass, metal, whatever, that he'd taken down with him in his...less than stellar landing. He's already imagining the highlight reel the Elita's going to make of that.
"Girl," he echoes. Drift follows Barricade as he shifts from side to side. Sign of nerves, he knew. He was getting to the Decepticon. "If it was important, I'd know about it."
Which is a no.
He lunges in, one sword blocking over his head, the other a straight jab for the other mech's midsection.
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Barricade
Minor
Knight of the Spastic Sword
Trust Me
Posts: 372
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Post by Barricade on Feb 13, 2011 23:51:42 GMT -5
"That trip-faceplant thing you did, that one of your soooper seeekrit 'fighting' moves, then?" Barricade asks innocently as he catches that flash of temper. He's seen where Drift parks his goat; time to go get it. "Your skills astound me. No, really. They do. I'm quaking. See?" he asks, still swaying back and forth.
It isn't nerves, though; it's restlessness, and the attempt to distract Drift, maybe mesmerize him the way a snake faces a mongoose. Which of them is quicker, though? Which of them will get that fatal bite in first?
"You're slagging clueless!" Barricade barks out a rude laugh as Drift rushes in, dropping down to sweep his leg toward Drift's feet, even as he reaches for the wrist of that jabbing sword, trying to dig his talons in, to throw Drift past him. "HA! Bet the only action you've ever gotten is with that sword!"
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Post by Drift on Feb 14, 2011 0:18:15 GMT -5
Know what? Barricade just got himself elevated from 'neutralize' to 'terminate with extreme and gleeful prejudice' for that crack.
"What? Can't fly with only one of your little wings?" Drift kicks the dented metal again, aiming it at Barricade's...well, he guesses they'd be Barricade's shins. "That why you're running your mouth so much?"
Wing had taught him, mocked him gently about how much he telegraphed his movements, and he'd finally learned. If Barricade was hoping to read his moves, he'd be disappointed. A few weeks of regular humiliating beatdowns in New Crystal City had cured him of that.
Barricade was not so lucky. Drift sees the attack coming, leaps over the foot sweep. Barricade's talons close over his wrist, but that just gives Drift leverage as he plants his own feet, swinging like a whip, bringing Barricade in from one side, his other sword in from the other.
"No," he said. "Also gotten a lot of action with guns."
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Post by Elita-1 on Feb 14, 2011 0:25:09 GMT -5
No highlight reels, but Elita might be asking Clipper to beta some fanfic soon.
//Oh, um... for the record Drift, I'm a female model,// Elita says, prompted by the very interesting banter between Drift and Barricade.
//And you could always point out to him that you don't have to know what women are to get action- with weapons or without.//
Even if action involving weapons can be terribly fun.
OOC: Could not resist interjecting. Still skippable
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Barricade
Minor
Knight of the Spastic Sword
Trust Me
Posts: 372
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Post by Barricade on Feb 14, 2011 13:01:44 GMT -5
"Pfft. What, so now all Decepticons are airframes?" Barricade scoffs. "So open-minded, Autowimp."
That instant of glee of feeling his talons connect solidly with Drift's wrist fades as swiftly as it had filled him, though, as he sees that sword angling in sharply toward his side. His voice is an electronic snarl as he releases Drift, raking his claws up the inside of Drift's arm sharply as he throws his other arm up and out, trying to block that incoming strike, wrist to wrist.
Drift is fast, though, and has momentum, and a vital instant more planning behind him than Barricade; the interceptor isn't quite quick enough to catch Drift's wrist against his own, and the blade bites sharply into the tire of that hand, cleaving through to skitter across the push-bar tucked just under his chest. He rips himself free with a thin grunt, slivers of metal and spokes from his flail and shreds of damaged rubber clattering to the floor as he pushes upwards from his crouch with the speed of an electrical arc, trying to bowl Drift over backwards.
He'll have the swordsmech's throat out with his teeth, if he can manage it, even if it means leaving his undamaged side open for a slash.
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Post by Drift on Feb 14, 2011 20:02:23 GMT -5
'Female'? Great. All Drift needs is another thing he doesn't know what the frag it is. And thrown at him in the middle of combat. Whatever 'female' is, it apparently means 'needlessly complicating at the worst possible time.'
//Yeah, I'll...tell him that.// Right now, he was pretty much topped off on action, as Barricade's talons shrieked up his forearm, no guns, no swords, just...claws. //Getting, uh, plenty of action right now, though, thanks.//
"Cons aren't all airframes." In fact, his whole unit...grounders. As was Turmoil. "Trust me."
//Is Barricade a female?// He certainly filled the 'needlessly complicating' bit. // If so, how do I kill them?//
Of course the Elita distracts him just long enough that he loses an edge, Barricade lunging up for his throat.
'Females' apparently have very sharp teeth.
Drift lets the motion take him backward, kicking his legs over to follow through, hoping to add another half-arc to their spin, so he lands on top of Barricade.
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Barricade
Minor
Knight of the Spastic Sword
Trust Me
Posts: 372
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Post by Barricade on Feb 14, 2011 20:46:17 GMT -5
"That's my line, fragger," Barricade snarls, spitting out the bits of tubing and shavings of metal, though he makes a show of licking the fluids away from his mouth. Some of them are his own, from the damage he's taken to his head, but some of them are Drift's, and he snaps sharply at Drift's face again as they tumble after over teakettle backwards.
Barricade feels the extra momentum Drift imparts, guesses the intent, but not quickly enough to do anything about it. His other door wing snaps off and skitters away as they land, Barricade on his back, one hand slashing for Drift's shoulder, trying to tear into the servos and fluid lines tucked under that joint. He barely notices the pain of that loss, though, as he tries to bring his other hand up to disable Drift's other wrist, still snapping at Drift's face and throat like a rabid dog (though, from Elita's perspective, it might look a little less... wholesome). Take the swords out of play, then carve the pretty white bot up at his leisure.
He isn't expecting Mindwipe's panicked transmission upon the Decepticon channel, though, and it stuns him, utterly stuns him into immobility for a very crucial second...
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Post by Drift on Feb 14, 2011 21:09:09 GMT -5
One thing these 'females' have, framewise, Drift decides, looking between the Elita and Barricade, is very tiny feet. Which means, very poor base gravity. With his larger lower frame, he has way more momentum on his side.
Which has the downside of, as they flip over, driven by his larger mass, tearing Barricade's teeth from where they'd lodged against his throat.
Which does NOT improve Drift's mood.
And there's a time, he decides, when swords are just an...encumbrance. He slams them home in their scabbards, preparing to get a little...Deadlock as he straddles the black fe-uh, fe-mech. (Whatever they're called.)
Enjoy that taste of Drift's system fluids, Barricade. He's about to serve you an entree of fists, punctuating his words, sparks and charring fluid raining down from the wound in his throat onto the downed mech.
"SHUT. UP. OR. START. MAKING. SENSE!"
Preferably, shut up.
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Barricade
Minor
Knight of the Spastic Sword
Trust Me
Posts: 372
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Post by Barricade on Feb 14, 2011 21:32:43 GMT -5
Barricade is literally jolted out of his startlement when Drift's fists begin pounding rhythmically upon his head and face, rattling more than just his processor. More energon - his own, and Drift's - splatter across his vision and drip across his face and mouth; his snarls come out more like gurgles as he begins to thrash under Drift.
"Sense? You want SENSE?" he howls as one silver cheek spar gives up and shatters under the rain of blows Drift is battering him with. "The square root of six is CAKE!" One optic cracks and goes dark as well as Barricade tries to block Drift's punches with one arm, while reaching his other taloned fist up to wrap around the white mech's sparking, bleeding throat.
"Your motherboard was a hamster, and your refectory smelled of elderberries!" What his teeth started, his claws will finish!
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Post by Elita-1 on Feb 14, 2011 21:44:33 GMT -5
//I... what?//
Okay, so Drift doesn't just need the gender talk. Drift needs the Whole Talk, complete with definitions, synonyms, and slang. At least some of the guys from the Emirate's reality had some sort hardwired bias that made them sorta recognize female TF's as Not The Same.
//Drift, a female is a girl is a woman. And I'm going to guess you're a man, aka male, aka requires masculine pronouns. To my knowledge, Barricade is not a female model, and even if he were, we aren't just some... runaway technology you can use a pat kill shot on- Drift, watch out!//
She rises up, ready to spring to the swordsman's aid. But he said to stay out... and quite frankly the sheer savageness of their battle frightens her. Battle is not what they showed in the Academy training vids.
//Drift...?// She makes the other mech's name a question. Does he need help?
Still skippable
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Post by Drift on Feb 14, 2011 22:02:08 GMT -5
The Elita might want to add hand puppets to the list of Things Needed to Explain this to Drift. Yeah, the educational system in the Iacon gutters didn't have that stuff. Or...well...females. At all.
But this is clearly proving his 'female = complicating at a bad time' theory. //Seriously can we talk about fraggin' GRAMMAR some other time?// He's trying really hard to recall if Springer's ever decided to debate fraggin' pronouns over mission commnet. Frag. Even Kup kept....more or less quiet.
And his day gets more awesome, because on his external audio chan, he has Barricade, apparently doing higher math.
Which was at least a lame distraction. He feels the talons curl around his throat, fingers getting slick with his fluid.
He laughs, his optics blazing white. "Moron." Fancy insults? Not his style.
However, swinging down, using the entire weight of his body to drive the heavy nasal and crest of his helm into Barricade's face?
....totally his style.
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Barricade
Minor
Knight of the Spastic Sword
Trust Me
Posts: 372
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Post by Barricade on Feb 14, 2011 22:20:11 GMT -5
At this rate, Drift will need hand puppets, diagrams, hell, he may need the hardlight 3d holographic projections from the Sim rooms! Twin Twist is probably going to be in as big a world of hurt by the time Drift is done with him as Barricade is now. Because, yeah. Ow.
Even Barricade's legendary snark is having a hard time standing against the beatdown he's getting. He feels another facial spire crack and fracture away with a white blaze of pain across his sensornet, but at least he manages to sink his claws into Drift's throat. One quick jerk is all he needs, just one quick jerk to rip out all the vital components there and leave Drift drowning in his own fluids.
He doesn't get the time for that move, though, as his fractured field of vision is suddenly filled with a very, VERY close look at Drift's face for less than an instant. And then, everything explodes into white agony.
He might manage to rip a few more gouges out of Drift's throat as his whole body seizes up for a moment, trying to reboot through the pain. Of course, he might not.
For that moment, though, he's helpless; there's nothing he can do as his systems struggle to recalibrate enough to even reset from the vicious headbutt.
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Post by Drift on Feb 14, 2011 22:32:18 GMT -5
These Autobots might consider requisitioning a medal for the poor mech (or, uh, fe-mech) who gets the unenviable job of explaining this all to Drift.
And then, maybe, some protective armor for Twin Twist.
Because, yeah, this is what he did to the last mech to try to explain gender to him.
Have a face full of Pretty, Barricade. Maybe some of it will rub off.
He has to finish this soon. He's been losing a lot of fluid, and it's beginning to take a toll. You can only go so far on sheer willpower and orneriness.
He snarls, pushing back up, tearing Barricade's arms off his chassis as he gets to his feet. "Come on," he growls, hauling Barricade to his feet. "You can at least die on your feet like a proper fraggin' Con."
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Barricade
Minor
Knight of the Spastic Sword
Trust Me
Posts: 372
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Post by Barricade on Feb 14, 2011 22:43:45 GMT -5
Barricade's audios manage to reboot in time to catch that last from Drift, even as he finds himself hauled to his feet. His knees try to buckle under him as the calibration systems struggle to catch up, and he swipes weakly at Drift's face, aiming for those detestable blue optics; Barricade knows a thing or two about running on sheer willpower and orneriness, himself.
"Wha' you car' 'bout bein' proper 'Con, fragger?" he slurs, lashing out with both fists, the glass from his windscreen - broken, he suddenly realizes, when Drift had been sitting on him, rearranging his face - raining down to the decking under their feet with little crystalline tinks.
Too many of his systems are coming up red on his HUD, though. Either badly scrambled, or refusing to reboot in time; his reflexes are sluggish, his aim off. If he manages to score a slash on Drift, it will be pure, dumb luck. He refuses to go down meekly, though. If he's to die here at the pretty pansy's hands, he will, by the Allspark, do so on his feet!
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