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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Jul 31, 2011 10:26:56 GMT -5
Rampage jolts back to attention as Wreckage barges in, somewhat belatedly swinging his gun down to shoot at the intruder - not missiles this time, he can't risk them this close, he might hurt the-
"Get away!" he screams at Wreckage, the Decepticon intimidatingly large and armored in the relatively small room. He reaches full-out panic as the urge to fight or flee pounds even more insistently in head, but there's nowhere for him to go. "Don't touch me- Aaugh!"
He doubles over slightly as his abdomen swells another fraction with a creak of metal, and he sends Slugslinger a look that's as imploring as it is hateful. "Help me?"
Rampage doesn't even know if he's asking for help against Wreckage or help with his strange problem, but the small part of him that can still manage rational thought knows that he's really fallen low if he's asking for help from Slugslinger. He will never live this down.
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Slugslinger
Minor
And if it weren't for this blasted coin…
Posts: 388
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Post by Slugslinger on Aug 3, 2011 6:23:51 GMT -5
OOC: Wreckage has timed out; skipping.
Slugslinger can't miss that expansion of Rampage's middle, watching the creepy little crustacean as he is. That is so weird. The jet frowns in confusion that's almost sincere.
"Help you with what, exactly?" he asks, suspicious, very obviously looking from Rampage's distended midsection to Wreckage to clarify his question. Wreckage seems to be ignoring him; he could shoot the big worthy in the back in some likely-looking spot. Or he could put Rampage out of his misery. Both options look viable from here.
And where has he seen creatures with swollen middles like that? He rifles through his memory banks while he waits for an answer.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Aug 9, 2011 19:16:59 GMT -5
Wreckage is fully prepared for whatever pitched combat Rampage wants to throw at him, and comfortable in knowing he will more than likely come out better off than the Predacon. But Wreckage is not blinded by his anger, nor is he without concern for an ailing teammate as he now gathers Rampage is, if that scream and the way he doubles over are indicators of any sort. The Stryker comes up short at the sight, lowering his weapons – marginally, lest he be caught off-guard by a ploy – and frowning.
Rampage missed his duty due to sickness? This changes things… somewhat.
"You are unwell," he pronounces awkwardly, looking from Rampage to Slugslinger. He assumes, by Rampage's plea, that the jet knows something, and he turns a dire, questioning glare on the air commander.
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Aug 10, 2011 22:08:11 GMT -5
Rampage tries to push himself into a corner and curl defensively around himself, still shakily pointing his gun at Wreckage. It feels like there's an explosion going off in slow motion inside him.
"Help... me?" he grinds out, confused. "No! Leave us alone!" He squeezes off another energy blast from his gun, but his aim is questionable at best at the moment. He almost wishes Slugslinger would put him out of his misery. But that would kill off the thing growing in him... which is what he wants, isn't it? No! Yes. "Argh!"
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Slugslinger
Minor
And if it weren't for this blasted coin…
Posts: 388
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Post by Slugslinger on Aug 11, 2011 8:24:06 GMT -5
Rampage was probably trying to aim at the obvious threat here, all umpteen towering white feet of him, but the shot impacts the doorframe only inches from Slugslinger's head. He exaggerates the scare it gives him, toppling back into the corridor with a startled shout, because it masks his need to cover his optics. It was bright, yes, and his left optic cluster is dazzled – he could do without the afterimages dancing around as multicoloured spots – but the right is a red-hot ember of pain. He has to try very hard not to just clutch it with one hand. It's a useless reflex anyway since it isn't like his visual cluster is spilling out through a broken lens or anything, but worse, he doesn't want to give away that it's the far side of his face that hurts more.
He might be a little paranoid. Sometimes.
"Watch where you're pointing that thing!" he cries without having to fake the irritation too very much. He makes a show of picking himself up again, dusting off imaginary debris.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Aug 18, 2011 10:10:42 GMT -5
That errant shot garners little more than a quick glance from Wreckage, and that mostly to check on Slugslinger. But since the jet is up and yelling about something other than medical attention, Wreckage assumes he is unhurt and writes him off. He rushes Rampage while the Predacon seems indisposed, making a grab for the gun with one hand and Rampage's shoulder with the other. Rampage may not want help – or he might, though his conflicting statements make it difficult for Wreckage to sort out – but he clearly requires aid and medical attention. And if strongarming him down to medical is the only way to achieve this end, so be it.
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Aug 19, 2011 13:23:08 GMT -5
Rampage looks rather startled as Wreckage disarms him, and as the Decepticon's hand closes on his shoulder he completely forgets that he has another weapon is subspace in the face of blind animal panic. Screaming wildly, he punches and claws at Wreckage's arm, weaker than usual from having his energy sapped by the parasite brooding in his gut.
"Let me go!" he howls.
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Slugslinger
Minor
And if it weren't for this blasted coin…
Posts: 388
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Post by Slugslinger on Aug 23, 2011 6:42:11 GMT -5
"Hey," grumps Slugslinger from the doorway, "make up your slaggin' mind already! D'you want help or what?" Clearly the Predacon is under some sort of dire mental stress, but that doesn't stop Slugslinger from poking at him. How could the jet look himself in the mirror if he gave it a miss?
He decides while standing there as uselessly as possible that Wreckage is insane. Or suicidal. Or both.
"Need a hand there?" he wonders, dubious. Not that he has the intention of actually providing any assistance whatsoever.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Aug 29, 2011 20:40:36 GMT -5
"No," Wreckage answers both in one rumbled syllable. The weakened Rampage's attempts to free himself garner a scowl before Wreckage hoists the smaller bot into an awkward but serviceable hold. Rampage should count himself lucky he doesn't find most of those legs broken in the process. He adds, glowering at Slugslinger as he turns with his armload of struggling, unhappy Predacon, "Out of the way."
OOC: Grabbing Rampage with player permission.
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Sept 2, 2011 19:52:33 GMT -5
Rampage howls and writhes like a trapped animal, trying to fight his way out of Wreckage's hold. Unfortunately, Wreckage has the distinct advantage of height and health, leaving him at the Decepticon's mercy. His struggling is interrupted, his screams taking on a decidedly more pained tone, as the metal on his abdomen swells further and finally gives a little, a ragged tear forming down the center with a tortured shriek of metal. Sickly glowing yellow shows through the gap.
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Slugslinger
Minor
And if it weren't for this blasted coin…
Posts: 388
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Post by Slugslinger on Sept 5, 2011 7:24:22 GMT -5
Many things is Slugslinger. Completely inured to life is not one of them, and while it's hard to be disgusted easily when one works for Alpha Quintesson, it's still possible. The jet pulls an epically sickened face at Rampage's suddenly split middle and recoils.
"Eugh! That's not right!" he declares, backing out of the way only because he doesn't want to get whatever it is on him.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Sept 9, 2011 11:12:57 GMT -5
The only acknowledgement Wreckage gives Rampage's plight is to break into a full run. If the Predacon is now splitting open, it behooves Wreckage to get him to medical a little more expediently.
//Wreckage en route to medical with Rampage,// he announces on the broadband, awkwardly not too long after Slugslinger informed the ship they were trying to kill each other, he realises. He adds in a stiff tone, //Not combat injuries. Requires a medical officer.// He pauses and glances at the eerie luminescence of Rampage's innards. //…Possibly quarantine.//
Hopefully, some medic is paying attention, because Wreckage nearly crashes through the doorway, unintentionally digging scores in the deck plating as he tries to brake his momentum with his spurs.
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Knock Out
Cadet
Relax! He's a doctor.
Posts: 86
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Post by Knock Out on Sept 12, 2011 7:41:01 GMT -5
Who is the man for the job? Why, the robot with an inbuild saw, of course!
When the door slides open, a red robot swirls to face them, a berth already prepped for the Predacon. He claps his hands enthusiastically, an eager smile on his face, surprisingly chipper considering the circumstances. "How can I be of medical assistance?"
And then he notices the tear and yellow oozing thing. Knock Out's face contorts in disgust, but he does not let it slow him down. After all, he's a professional! Even if he never saw anything like this. He grabs a large enough tray to hold whatever it is, putting it on the berth, and gestures a claw before switching his hand for a saw. "Lay him down there, now! Carefully, and keep him restrained!"
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Sept 13, 2011 13:33:36 GMT -5
Rampage continues to struggle weakly as Wreckage hauls him to medbay, too lost in a haze of pain and parasite-induced confusion to even realize where he is at the moment. He knows that there are people touching him and he doesn't want them to and he wants to get away and his abdomen hurts because... because...
He catches a glimpse of glowing, pulsing mass that's continuing to grow out of his innards, forcing the tear wider, and for a moment a wave of disgust manages to throw him briefly into coherency. "Get it out!" he snarls, trying to get his arms free to claw at the yellow sac.
Then the moment passes and he lapses back into weak struggling, muttering incoherently about needing to get away and go outside.
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Slugslinger
Minor
And if it weren't for this blasted coin…
Posts: 388
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Post by Slugslinger on Sept 14, 2011 8:59:41 GMT -5
Slugslinger has no real business tagging along. If Wreckage can't hold down Crabcakes all on his own, then Slugslinger doesn't want to be close enough for Rampage to get hold of him. He isn't the heavily-armoured bullet magnet here.
Yet here he is, following at a judicious distance just in case Rampage, say, explodes in a fountain of acidic rusting goo or something. Slugslinger wouldn't put it past him. However, he can't pass up the chance to have all this filed away for later mocking, either, or what sort of horrible roommate would he be? A lousy one, he tells himself while he mills around just outside the doors, close enough to trigger the sensor and keep them open but keeping himself completely useless.
OOC: Skippable unless addressed.
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