WHO: Rot Team and those who will try to stop them.
WHERE: Washington D.C.
WHEN: Shortly after
this post
WARNINGS: Violence and desecration
SUMMARY: The Major was counting on the heroes of the City to not act in force to stop the nuke. He was wrong. Time for a monumental battle.
FORMAT: Whatever works.
NOTES: Don't forget to add your character's
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Several feet away, Soundwave hears him. Feet pounding the pavement, heartbeat skyrocketing. The pulse is maddening. The boy is nervous, he expects. Or just running on adrenaline. Flight or fight mode. Survival.
Either way, he hears him. It'd be easy to leap in and stop him right off, but why end the chase so quickly?
For a moment, he waits, letting Juston come closer. Soundwave stands in his robotic suit -- formed perfectly around his body to accommodate his more agile-based organic form. As he hears the boy approach, he presses a switch on his shoulder.
"KAMIKAZE. TALONBLADE. EJECT."
A pair of cassettes do indeed eject from his tray. One transforms into a robotic hawk, the other into a canine.
A brief moment passes and he thinks of Ravage, in deep regret. However, that cannot remain; he shoved him aside in order to protect him. Ravage will never understand why it all happened. He doesn't need to. He just needs to hate Soundwave.
It doesn't matter now.
"OPERATION: PROTECT THE PERIMETER FROM ANY INVADERS."
This hero is his. All others will not interrupt his fun. He's killed many today, and this will not stop.
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Juston couldn't help but shake the thought that if this thing wasn't trying to kill him this would be the coolest thing he had ever seen. His fist shaking a bit as he was so close to the Washington Memorial. He was so close and now this guy just had to get into his way.
"But you are the invader!" he snapped back without thinking.
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"IRRELEVANT."
The Decepticon holds up one hand, letting out a blast of sound from his palm. It's enough force that's like a punch in the gut to anyone in its way.
And naturally, he's aiming at Juston.
"I REMEMBER YOU. INFERIOR CREATURE."
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There was a time not that long ago when such a strike would have floored him, but managing to take a strike was one of the first things Melee had taught him. He was shaken for a second as his face grimaced in pain. Juston put his head down seemingly ignoring the bot for a moment.
"I don't think we met." He said putting a foot forward still approaching the World War II memorial.
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Either way, it's fun. It thinks it can succeed.
"NOT IN PERSON."
There's a clicking, whirring noise emitting from Soundwave. It's a strange distorting noise, meant to cause his target to be dizzy and lose equilibrium. To get sick and nauseated.
He intends to cause Juston to fall over and be ill.
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Juston shot the armored figure an angry look. He knew he was being toyed with. He knew he was being bullied.
As bad as he felt, as much as this hurt he was was still walking forward. "You have no reason to be here." He said. "If this bomb goes off we're both dead."
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Correction. His suit permits him to fly. It is not a power he holds.
Still, he sees no reason to inform the boy that.
"I WILL PROVIDE YOU WITH THE OPPORTUNITY TO RUN. OTHERWISE. I WILL OBLITERATE YOU."
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He turned his gaze to the Cybertronian his green eyes lighting up for a moment examining his armor. The boy no longer saw an immediate threat to his life in those few fractions of a second he saw a machine. A machine that could be taken apart, and remade for any purpose. A machine with surprisingly vulnerable fuel line.
Without warning the boy suddenly rushed forward lunging at the Decepticon as he pulled out a tool of his own design resembling a scalpel. "Operation Failed! Prepare to abort!"
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A string of odd clicks that sound both mechanical and of a language escape Soundwave; Cybertronian, all curse words spat out as he swings his arm to violently backhand Juston.
Shortly afterward, he pulls off the helm and tosses it aside. There Soundwave is, just as organic as his foe. Tall, blue-haired, and wearing red goggles to cover his eyes in order to promote a cold, hard gaze from him. He reaches around to peer at the fuel line, thinking as it drains of a pinkish liquid.
Can he fix it? Yes, but probably not here. He's a technician with sound equipment and subspace -- not with this.
"DAMAGE EXTENSIVE. HN."
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Juston paused for a moment clenching a bloody nose in one hand. His green eyes narrowed as he got to his feat. His eyes blinking for a moment as he had recognized who he was facing. His free hand dropping the scalpel back down into his pocket.
"Do you really know what's going to happen if this war starts? If you care about ANYONE in the City or even that stupid dance club... you're going to let me stop that nuke." he said pausing looking down at the draining fuel line before lowering his voice. "Query: Can you fly?"
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As a war machine, he knows that well. At first, he looks at Juston coldly, indifferent. Both his hands raise up, and a low hum fills the air. The vibrations increase.
In his mind, he expects he will increase the vibrations enough to force the human's skull to explode from the force. That is, if he increases it enough, that is what should happen. If he approaches.
But he simply stares intently at Juston. People in the City.
First to his mind are both Shockwave and Ravage. One person he's come to care so much about that he does not know how to function around him properly, and the other he's brutally shoved aside in order to protect. Alastair and the others, his very few human friends. And...
Trowa
All those that they are connected to. No, he's very aware of what the war will do. He wants it, for his own personal bloodlust.
...But right now, Shockwave is still suffering. And what good is a war when foes just come back to life, anyway? The war would be much more meaningful if the opposing force could just stay dead.
"HN. FOOL."
Starscream was going to help stop this. For his own personal experiments, fool's errands, and pointless runarounds. However, for Soundwave...
Abruptly, there is the purpose to protect viciously all that he has left. He could not bear the sensation of Shockwave dying once. Soundwave sincerely doubts he could do so again.
Soundwave scowls and begins to strip himself of the armor; it'll become immobile soon, and he will need his mobility terribly.
"YOU WILL FOLLOW ME TO THE BOMB. THAT IS ALL I WILL DO FOR YOU."
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This was it. He couldn't find a logical or an emotional argument to get through to his enemy and he was sure he wouldn't he able to fight much longer. In just a few seconds he was going to pass out... or worse.
Then without warning the buzzing in his head stopped. He paused for a moment looking into Shockwave's indifferent face. He wasn't able to comprehend why Soundwave had stopped but for now that didn't matter. He slowly got to his feat as a look of gritty resolve returned to his face.
"Thanks... that's all I really need."
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The rest of the armor is taken care of. He'll return to destroy the remains -- if it isn't already gone by the time he gets back.
Soundwave scowls to himself behind his goggles; how horridly disappointing. How... disgustingly human he's become over the eleven months he's been in this body. If he were still a true Cybertronian, things would have gone according to plan.
He's changed too much. Megatron would be extremely disappointed if he was here and knew.
With one faint motion of his hand, he indicates Juston to follow him as he takes lead. That's all he'll do -- guide him to the source, then take his leave back to the City.
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"I understand..." the boy said as he approached the World War II Memorial. "Thank you."
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It doesn't take long to reach the memorial, fortunately. Once they reach their goal, Soundwave glares down at Juston and turns around swiftly.
"STATUS: ON YOUR OWN. DO WHAT YOU SEE FIT, HERO."
At that, Soundwave takes off, moving quickly into the chaos, weaving through it as if it was nothing but mist to him. He may have helped the boy get to the bomb, but it doesn't mean he can't take out a few more inferior creatures.
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"I can't believe he actually put it in the World War II memorial." He muttered before retrieving his tools.
Juston closed his eyes taking a few deep breaths. He had no time to focus on the chaos around him. All he could do was focus on the nightmare that sat before him, a nightmare from the cold war era. He went silent for a moment focusing exclusively on the task at hand.
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