Scourge tried to drag Dead End's leg up to meet his wrists--and stopped at a grinding screech of metal joints being twisted beyond their limits, chased by a stifled groan from Dead End. Stunticons just weren't that flexible, especially with a semi standing on one's chest.
"I'm not much use to you if you rip my legs off," Dead End said painfully. It might turn out that Scourge wanted to rip his legs off for fun, in which case Dead End would seriously re-think his loyalty to Scourge. It would be a terrible break-up to a first crush.
Fortunately, Dead End only found himself with his ankles lashed together and more-or-less hobbled to his wrists by a length of cable. Scourge really didn't want him running off, apparently.
Dead End might not be as good a shield as Scourge expected. He didn't have to keep his forcefields on, after all. On the other hand, it would be too easy to forget to turn them off--it was a long-ingrained habit to keep them running in battle.
Post by Sable Conolly on Jan 14, 2008 23:23:17 GMT -5
Dead End has to keep his force fields on if he wants to have a hope of escaping and being useful to his team. So Scourge's thinking goes, if he even gives it that much thought.
Scourge doesn't really possess a sadistic streak. He understands how to cow people, and he'll use it to his advantage, but he doesn't really derive any particular pleasure from seeing an enemy in pain. No, if an enemy is aware enough to feel pain, it means that Scourge has failed to put him down for the count. He doesn't even bother to point out that a shield doesn't need legs. Now that he has Dead End trussed up like a Christmas turkey, he attempts to yank the flagpole from Dead End's hand, keeping hold of the last length of cable with his other hand.
Scourge inquires, "You can be torn apart? Unfortunate." Technically, Scourge could also be torn apart, but it would likely take Rodimus Prime in a very foul mood to accomplish it.
Dead End firmly hung on to the flagpole. This whole exercise may be pointless, and he may have planned on helping Scourge from the beginning, but it wouldn't do to just roll over and hand him the flag. Just because existence in an entropic universe was ultimately futile did not mean that one just surrendered to the inevitable. The war was pointless, the next battle would probably be pointless, this exercise might be pointless and futile, but once battle was joined--Stunticons fought.
"Even Unicron can be torn apart." Which was also accomplished by Rodimus Prime in a very foul mood.
Last Edit: Jan 15, 2008 17:37:01 GMT -5 by Dead End
Post by Sable Conolly on Jan 15, 2008 17:47:19 GMT -5
Scourge patiently and rationally explains, "Dead End, I can break your hands, and I can take the flagpole from you, or you can simply let it go. If I break your hands, not only will it put you in a good deal of undue pain, but if the chance to escape arises, you'll be much less useful to your team than you would be if you actually had functioning hands. Either way, you will lose this flag, but this way, you're much more aptly suited to escape and generally harass me. Now. Let go of the flagpole."
His offer is quite generous, really. In fact, Dead End should be grateful that he is even being offered a choice of bad and worse. Scourge could have skipped directly o worse.
The moral of the story is not get Rodimus Prime into a very foul mood.
Dead End's visor brightened a few notches as he stared back at Scourge.
"Oh dear. That might be a problem, as I just can't seem to let go. I suppose the longer you take at this, the more chance my teammates might show up, though they're probably far too busy to make it here in time. The only reason I can think of that Starscream isn't back here already is that he's about to get his hands on someone else's flag, or is in hot pursuit of his next victim," Dead End felt obliged to say.
It was rather pointless, and probably petty, but something in Dead End just wouldn't let him yield. Even though it was his idea in the first place.
There was a reason that the gloomy fatalist of the Stunticons had never suicided in battle.
Post by Sable Conolly on Jan 15, 2008 23:49:51 GMT -5
Scourge nods, accepting Dead End's answer. The Stunticon is quite right. He has wasted too much time already. He moves to hold Dead End's hand and lightly strokes it. Then, without remorse, pity, or hesitation, Scourge attempts to wrench Dead End's hand open, that he might take the flag. Megatron was generous enough to outfit the Stunticon with two hands. He doesn't need both of them.
He intends to take both Dead End and the flag, but he doesn't want them together, by Sigma. There is such a thing as too much of a good thing, he has discovered.
Some of Dead End's fingers wrench out of joint, and Scourge snatches up the flag. He holds it in a reserved manner and checks it over. It looks an awful lot like his own flag but in different colours. If it is a copy, it is a very good one. He supposes that it might also be rigged to detonate, but he isn't seeing anything obvious. Scourge affixes the flag to one his smokestacks, looking almost jaunty.
Finger servos shriek thinly as they're driven past their limits and joints wrench loose; the only sign of pain Dead End shows is a brief flickering of his visor. The concept that anyone might feel remorse for dealing minor damage to a Decepticon in exchange for achieving his goals is alien to the Stunticon. Finger joints were repairable; it was minor battle damage. Now, if Scourge had felt obliged to kill him in a non-simulated fashion after Dead End had given him that lovely wax and polish, Dead End would hope for at least some regret on Scourge's part.
Fine, he'd been defeated and the flag taken from him. Dead End stopped resisting Scourge; it was pointless now. He probably should notify Starscream, though.
// Starscream, Dead End here. I regret to inform you that Scourge has the flag, though he has not started moving yet. He probably will soon. //
Post by Sable Conolly on Jan 16, 2008 23:40:58 GMT -5
Scourge moves to tie the loose end to the rope to the trailer hitch on the back of his leg. Actually tying Dead End to the back of his legs would be more comfortable for Dead End, but it would leave Scourge rather bound if he had to transform to robot mode in a hurry. So Dead End will just have to put up with being dragged behind Scourge like cans behind a wedding carriage.
Dead End could fly. He could even fly opposite the direction that Scourge wants to go. Scourge still has the pulling power to go the direction that he wants to and fast. He transforms back to his truck mode. Dead End might notice the lack of activation code. It's just truck to robot that requires one. Dead End might also notice the lack of trailer. That one's a bit more interesting, at the moment.
The semi-truck heads off, fast as he can, and taking the most direct route indicated on the maps. Looking for cover is pointless. Dead End can just tell Starscream and Sell Sword where they are.
Dead End did notice the distinct lack of trailer. So, Scourge could sub-space his trailer or move it elsewhere, like Optimus Prime; it wasn't part of his robot body the way it was for Motormaster. That did beg the question: where was Scourge's trailer and what could he do with it? Did he have a mobile drone and a battlestation like the former Prime?
The Stunticon's ruminations were interrupted as the Scourge started rolling and the slack cable tightened with a jerk, dragging Dead End behind. Without his forcefields, he'd have been leaving shards of his hood and roof all over the pavement with each bounce; as it was, the bounces rattled him unpleasantly and the occasional twist that dragged his unshielded, damaged leg against the pavement threw up a fountain of sparks as metal shrieked on metal and peeled off in strips. That hurt abominably.
Perhaps Scourge had forgotten that he could fly. It would be helpful if he had. Dead End applied just enough lift to stop straining his forcefields on each bounce, and to keep his leg from twisting down and shredding. He didn't need those distractions while he worked out the best way to get a hand free. Indiana Jones at least had hold of the whip instead of being tied up with it while being dragged.
Scourge's foot on his chest and the position of Dead End's arms when Scourge had had him pinned had obstructed his sub-space access to his concussion rifle. Now he could get at it... if he had a hand free to hold it. Dropping his rifle on the pavement rapidly dropping behind would serve no use at all.
Dead End stared at his hands--they were tightly bound, tight enough to scratch and dent the metal of his wrists if his forcefields went down. The cables also served to jam the joint where his hands would retract into his wrists on transformation. However, if his hand were narrower than his wrist, he could retract it... and shed the cable. Freeing one hand would free the other. Simple, really.
Post by Sable Conolly on Jan 18, 2008 14:53:56 GMT -5
Scourge was somewhat expecting Dead End to activate his lifters. Being dragged behind someone while bound cannot be pleasant. However, if the experience is at all pleasant, it means that Dead End has time to think about things. Scourge doesn't need Dead End thinking. The only reason why he hasn't knocked out Dead End is because Scourge is not sure if he'd be able to rouse the Stunticon.
So as soon as Scourge feels that slight lift and tug, he starts driving much more harshly and closely to the buildings, taking his corners far too sharply. If he had a trailer on him, it would be slamming into the poor, innocent buildings left and right.
Dead End's going to have to think fast and use those lifters of his if he doesn't want to be repeatedly smacked into a building every time Scourge turns a corner, a situation that Scourge finds rather more desirable.
Scourge also makes idle conversation, "Nice day for a drive, isn't it?"
Instead, Scourge slammed Dead End into poor, innocent buildings left and right--or tried to. Dead End twisted just in time to take the corner of the building on his shielded shoulder, rather than getting his damaged leg torn off.
"WILDRIDER!" The instinctive rebuke escaped Dead End's vocalizer before he realized it, though he bit off the follow-up. Then he twisted with the next turn, almost too late, and started to pay more attention to the road ahead, flying with the turns as Scourge took the turns on two or so wheels. It would have been much easier to handle if the line connecting him to Scourge was at his hands rather than his feet.
"Reminds me of the time Motormaster took Drag Strip and Wildrider waterskiing," Dead End replied.
Post by Sable Conolly on Jan 20, 2008 21:46:01 GMT -5
Scourge grouses, "Do I need to make myself a name tag? Maybe write 'Scourge' on my doors and chest in chrome?"
He's getting interesting information about Stunticon group relations, but he's really getting tired of having people call him the wrong name. Add in that there is another Scourge in their camp, and Scourge is just out-and-out grouchy about name issues.
Scourge drives like a complete lunatic. The metal road is randomly marked with rubber from his tyres, which screech periodically when he pushes a really taking turn. In addition to taking the corners like a maniac, he swerves across the road, actually heading toward obstacles. Lamp posts and rubbish bins are sent flying in battered and broken pieces as he runs over them without pity or prejudice.
"Is it my fault--" Dead End paused to dodge more corners as Scourge played crack-the-whip with him, "you drive like Wildrider--or Motormaster in a bad mood--and toss a lasso like Motormaster? Probably some weird parallel universe thing."
Scourge really was getting away too fast. The proctors might think Dead End wasn't actually trying or something. Dead End let his lifters kick him up in a high swing as he swooped around the next obstacle Scourge tried to squash him on, and got a good view of the route ahead. His radar maps told him where Scourge was likely to turn, but not the exact composition of the corners of buildings this close to the sector border. He'd been more concerned with walls and roofs in his original mapping run.
Oh, good, there was a sturdy enough corner up ahead. Dead End ordered the forcefield nodes in his left arm to shut down, and felt the brief tingle of it an instant later. He gauged the distance and oncoming velocity of the oncoming corner very precisely, with his radar. This was going to hurt.
Dead End twisted at the end of his rope and flung his bound arms out toward the corner, angling them just so--
Hung out at an awkward angle, his left hand snagged on the onrushing reinforced ceramacrete corner, slammed into it with all of Scourge's speed and Dead End's weight behind it. Even shielded, the joint would have been badly wrenched. Unprotected....
Dead End stifled the scream of pain that tried to escape his vocalizer as he drew back the sparking, stove-in stump. The cables binding Dead End slipped off the now non-existant wrist and hand, freeing Dead End's other hand--the one that hadn't had fingers wrenched out of joint by Scourge.
A brief command summoned his concussion rifle from subspace, into his good hand; Dead End fired off three quick shots as he swooped along behind Scourge: at the top of Scourge's smokestack, where the flagstaff was fastened, at Scourge's rear axle, and at the tie point of the cable binding him to Scourge.
Post by Sable Conolly on Jan 22, 2008 21:49:03 GMT -5
Scourge cannot see what's going on with Dead End all that well out his rearview mirrors. He thinks he hears something a bit weird, but with the wind lashing over his frame and the crash of another mown down rubbish bin, it is rather hard to tell.
Then he feels the tingle of light damage to one of his smokestacks and the sound of a shot. The flag goes clattering of to the side of the road as two more shots ring out. Scourge immediately transforms with a cry of, "Scourge, transform!" He skids along the road for quite a distance due to his unorthodox braking procedure. The metal screams at the gouges left by his frictional braking in robot mode. First order of business is checking to make sure Dead End hasn't gotten loose. Then, he'll have to look up. He springs to his feet and whirls back.
Dead End is semi-free. Scourge looks up briefly. Nothing. Swiftly, Scourge crouches, grabs the cord fastened to the back of one of his own legs, and he yanks on it hard. Jokes about a ball and chain aside, it looks like Dead End's legs are still bound, and this should bring Dead End right to Scourge, where he can just tear off that other offending hand.
"Oh, bother!" Dead End was rather annoyed that he missed cutting the cable with his third shot. Before he could line up another shot on the cable, Scourge yanked hard on the cable--Dead End suddenly found himself face-to-face with Scourge.
"Oh dear," he said as he quickly wedged the muzzle of his concussion rifle into the nearest joint and pulled the trigger...