Day/Video/Not Deaging
[On the peak of Demonreach, an island off the coast of the City, there's a visible plume of smoke curling up from the even further decimated ruins of the lighthouse and the completely wrecked splinters of the hut. Just visible over the edge of the cliff, the crumbled form of a Decepticon is laying eerily still.
Harry's face swings into view.]
I... ( Read more... )
Harry's face swings into view.]
I... ( Read more... )
None of them is "indecisive".
The mask doesn't move, but his gaze flickers between the pair as he takes a step back. His processing's at half-function at best, but this doesn't take calculation. Two severe threats, his own state barely mobile. This fight can wait for later.
The program doesn't turn from his opponents, but his free hand reaches down to detach a baton. He's still a moment longer, calibrating subroutines, pushing the destabilizing crackle edging through his systems back. Then he turns-two steps and a leap-the last jerky, and shamefully weak. But it's enough.
He clears the nearer cliff, pulls his body in as best he can as too-close rocks shave the air to either side. A moment of clear air, and the baton breaks in his grip, lightjet rezzing to support him. From there, Rinzler drops the stabilizing functions, localizes control to steering, basic perception, and lets the electrical whiteness tear raggedly through his systems as the overload slowly, painfully burns itself out.
The orange-lit jet rises, clears the island. And he's gone.]
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