Transformers Prime: Convergence is a plot and character-development driven roleplay forum based upon canon material of TFP and RiD, but incorporates characters, elements, and plotlines from various other continuities to craft a unique story. Our community is welcoming, laid back, and dedicated to making each roleplay experience a good one.
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Deadlock snarled in frustration as his blaster was shot from his grip. Fangs bared, he glanced around for the source of the shot. Crimson optics setting their sights on the blue femme meters away. He knew going after her would be a bum effort - Ironhide would make sure of that - so he didn't bother. He refocused himself on the large red mech.
His refocusing was, however, too late for him. He managed to move out of the center of the plasma blast, but the brunt of the force caught him on his left shoulder, sending him propelling backward in a spiral. Sliding across the snow, frame smoking and snapped wires sparking from the moisture, his HUD exploded with warnings and malfunctions.
His entire system was telling him to quit. There was no option for melee now. His arm was entirely incapacitated, and there was no hope of him simply running diagnostics. It was fried. A moment to assess the situation around him told him that he'd been successfully ambushed; at that, he'd been beaten. He muttered a curse under his breath, pushing himself to an upright position and back to his feet.
As a precaution, he drew one of his blades with working right hand. It was only to be wielded defensively as he deduced how to flee to fight without meeting his end.
Aww, now why'd Ironhide have to go and do that? Sure, Chromia had practically handed him the opening, but still. She casually tossed her blaster over her shoulder as it faded back into subspace, then proceeded to fold her arms back over her chest. There was Deadbolt, the supposedly notorious Decepticon warrior, looking like he was about to pop a fuel line while trying to decide what to do.
"Sorry about that," she halfheartedly replied. She couldn't help but look a little dejected, now that the prospect of her getting a full turn was exactly nil. Ironhide had pretty much won his round by knocking out their weapon arm, but Chromia wasn't content to only play such a small role.
She whistled sharply.
"Hey, uh, Deadbolt!" Chromia called out. "If you stay and give me a real fight, I'll let you go at the end of it, no matter who wins."
Sure she might've just promised him an exit, but damn if she didn't just want a fight already.
Ironhide rumbled in displeasure when Deadlock responded more sluggishly than anticipated. Where was that vaunted skill? The bot had struck fear into the Autobot ranks for years, but here he was fighting like a genericon. The grin fell from the mech's faceplates.
"Well, slag. I though' ya'd give us more o' a challenge, 'Con. Ya were at least supposed ta last long enough fer Chromia to tag in."
He stepped back, still on guard but obviously not making a move to attack. Hearing his Conjunx's offer, his expression turned to one of surprise, optics flickering to betray the emotion.
"Ya sure, darlin'?"
He wasn't asking if she was sure that she wanted to let him go. Deadlock likely wouldn't make it far in his present state. No, he was asking if she was sure she wanted to fight the 'Con in his condition, when he was seriously in doubt of how well Deadlock could keep functioning. 'Hide hadn't meant to blast him so hard, he'd make it up to her. But, if she still wanted to take him on...
Deadlock practically hissed at the butchering of his name, "Deadlock," he snarled, face curled into a look of annoyance and anger. She was really guaranteeing him an exit if he stayed and kept fighting? That seemed irresponsible at best, although the Autobots had been known not to take perfect chances to offline others. Deadlock wouldn't have been so kind. A moment of thought is put into it, and he turns to face her fully.
"I'll take it," he states, taking up his blade with his working servo. If he could make his way back to his blaster, he'd much prefer to use that. Ranged attacks were more his ideal, and fighting up close in his state may be counter-intuitive.
Chromia took a sweet hit of satisfaction for unknowingly mangling her opponent's name. Definitely something she'd get smacked for back on Caminus, but new planet, new you. Although Deadlock wasn't nearly at full strength, she was dead certain that she could extract some form of exercise or entertainment from their bout. "As certain as my aft is blue," she replied, an eager twinge in her voice.
One sword.
Deadlock still had a working set of denta, did he not? If their roles were reversed, that discarded blade would've been clenched in Chromia's mouth; no way she wasn't ignoring the oft-ignored 'third hand'. He'd learn his lesson, though.
But for now, a single blade was the unspoken standard. Chromia swiftly retrieved the hilt of her blade, spinning its familiar shape between her servos. She presented her weapon in a salute, pointing and flicking the emitter out to forest beside her, feeling the hum of energy rumble through her arm as she activated the hard-light blade. It rested comfortably at its default length, what with the forecast of combiners being low at the moment. She slowly spun it round and round as the Camien pulled it closer to her body, stopping once she finally stood in a proper ready stance.
"You go free either way, but in what state is up to you." Chromia called out, reaffirming her word. "Now come on. Give me something to remember."
With that, her mouth was free of words, her mind free of thoughts.
Ironhide disengaged the fight by stepping back a few meters. His eyes never left his enemy, he was too wise for that, but, he made no further moves to attack. This was Chromia's fight now. And, though he'd been enjoying himself, he wasn't disappointed to step back. That was the thing about being Conjunx, in his processor. What was his was hers, especially when it came to the things they both enjoyed. Not to mention, it made his spark warm to see her so excited. He did feel a little bad for further damaging their target, though. He wasn't sure how much of a fight it was going to be...but, this was Deadlock. If he lived up to his reputation, he should still have a good scrap left in him.
"He's all yers, darlin'. Show 'im a good time."
His optics settled on Chromia, grizzled faceplates shifting in a wide grin. Damn, what a femme. Primus had smiled on his when he met that one.