Ironhide's fingers drive toward the master's optics is nearly too fast to see. His other hand lashes toward the techno-org's throat, and the electronic snarl from his vocaliser sounds like some nightmare delusion from the pit. He can feel that anger as he comes into contact with his enemy; can feel the discomfort crawling along his circuits, and it fuels his own rage to a bitter glowing pitch of calculated fury.
The Master flinches, cannon-arm snacking up to grab at the hand coming for his throat. He makes a frustrated sound, shaking his head to try and drive off the distracting sensations, optics flaring with irritation as they lock onto his attacker.
Nightscream's slipped loose and out of the way, which is as well - hot on Ironhide's heels is the stoat-mech, aiming a punch to the back of the Autobot's helm...
Waterlog whirls in mid-retreat, and fires. It hits the stoat just above the back of his knee and he trips forward instead. Stormcloud relaxes a fraction: his team-mate's regained some of his senses, then. He looks at his tensed hostage. Well, now what to do with him?
And up top Cliffjumper snaps out of her shock and horror as the lizard-bot nearby moves. She turns a blaster on its sparking frame. "Don't... don't make me finish you."
Ironhide's fingers might hit the master's optics then. He's undaunted by the grabbing of his other hand, instead barring his teeth and bringing up his knee.
The flinch saves his optics, and Ironhide's fingers slam into the curve of his helm instead. He growls furiously and thrusts forward with his segmented tail-arm, seeking to fling Ironhide bodily into the recovering stoat behind him. The incoming knee barely rocks him, indeed might add to the Autobot's backward momentum.
That cuts off the hail of (mostly) well-aimed bolts from Waterlog toward the stoat-mech - friendly fire would be bad. Stormcloud decides he'd better offline his hostage and get back in the fight.
Ironhide growls, the sound one that would be more at home coming from a feral drone than a sparked being. The stoat gets an elbow to whatever part is closest, and then the ex Protector is throwing himself back toward the master with intentions to grapple and destroy.
In Ironhide's wake, the stoat grabs at its right shoulder with a pained noise. Ahead, the Master twists, using his tail-cannon as a sinuous shield. The claws on his shoulders glow and then open fire.
Unexpectedly, the Minicon hostage launches himself forward. The butt of Stormcloud's stolen gun sweeps down through thin air.
"What?" His head snaps up and he starts forward, raising the rifle. The Master's pet is in car-mode, streaking toward the fight. Stormcloud curses and snaps off a shot or two, but the weapon's unfamiliar and that fragger is still fast.
Bits of molten metal fly away from Ironhide's armor, and then the old one is launching up and forward again though his attack has slowed as his systems deal with ever mounting damage. At the same time that intangible presence suddenly shares with the master just exactly what it feels like to die by firing squad.
The Master freezes at the fresh assault of foreign memories, blind now to the attacking Autobot, or to the panic of his ally behind Ironhide as Nightscream and Waterlog settle for ganging up on the stoat-mech with guns and then fists. A couple of laser bursts can be heard to hit metal high to the side.
And to it all the Master is insensible - though that opening's about to vanish. Tyres squeal as the nameless Minicon curves wide behind him.
"Heads up!" barks Stormcloud roughly, firing and missing as the stray transforms and leaps...
Ironhide hits while the master is still distracted, one of his guns in hand now and coming up to be fired right at his face. The old bot can see those images of firing squad, can feel the pain of death approaching, and once more he trips over the edge of sanity.
He doesn't hear the warning. Doesn't hear the firing or the squeal of tires. If his gun doesn't do the job he wants it to he's going to try and bite the master's face off.
The laser hits home and the Master gives a horribly animal roar of pain and fury, left hand clutching at his face. His pincered cannon-hand fires at the Autobot’s chest to slow him down
( ... )
Ironhide stumbles back as the master links, giving the appearance that he'd be blinking if his optics were open. Then he leaps aside as he sees his opponent going down, both guns flashing into his hands as he adds to his sister's fire.
He's moving even more slowly now, and bright colours show against the tarnished black of his armor, but his deep, ragged voice lifts to warn his small teammates even as he gathers himself to spring on the fallen enemy.
The Master's already getting up, and barely seems to notice the smaller Ironhide's fire for a minute. Sparks fly from his armour as she lands a lucky hit. The Bulk's optics fix on her- and her fire wavers. Too long. A pulse from his tail-cannon sends the orange dune buggy flying, just before the reptilian mech flinches again under the new fire.
"Hey, wait! You can't-" Nightscream's concern for what Joe's about to do is cut short: Stormcloud and Waterlog are raising their launchers, and he yells at them in Minicon even as they glance at each other. Waterlog shakes his head at Stormcloud, and they hold their fire for now.
There is no fancy somersaulting now. The old Protector just launches himself like a missile, his guns firing till both spark. They're cast aside then, and once more Ironhide's body shifts despite the whine of warning coming from his systems. Jaws full of razor teeth gape wide with unfelt fury.
If he manages to hit the master he's going right for the throat.
Like many well-armoured bots the Master doesn't have much throat to expose, but an Autobot to the face is enough to give most bots pause. His pincered right hand snaps at Ironhide's side, his shoulder-mounted guns blazing at the Autobot. Then a blast hits him in the back, distracting him from the frontal attack. He growls and looks over his shoulder, still grappling with Ironhide.
Armorhide lowers his blaster and takes the moment to survey the remains of the other team. "Ironhide! Are you-"
"'M all right," the orange Minicon insists, pulling herself into robot-mode and scrambling up from the corner. Her visor focuses on the fight. "Slag!"
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Nightscream's slipped loose and out of the way, which is as well - hot on Ironhide's heels is the stoat-mech, aiming a punch to the back of the Autobot's helm...
Waterlog whirls in mid-retreat, and fires. It hits the stoat just above the back of his knee and he trips forward instead. Stormcloud relaxes a fraction: his team-mate's regained some of his senses, then. He looks at his tensed hostage. Well, now what to do with him?
And up top Cliffjumper snaps out of her shock and horror as the lizard-bot nearby moves. She turns a blaster on its sparking frame. "Don't... don't make me finish you."
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That cuts off the hail of (mostly) well-aimed bolts from Waterlog toward the stoat-mech - friendly fire would be bad. Stormcloud decides he'd better offline his hostage and get back in the fight.
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Unexpectedly, the Minicon hostage launches himself forward. The butt of Stormcloud's stolen gun sweeps down through thin air.
"What?" His head snaps up and he starts forward, raising the rifle. The Master's pet is in car-mode, streaking toward the fight. Stormcloud curses and snaps off a shot or two, but the weapon's unfamiliar and that fragger is still fast.
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And to it all the Master is insensible - though that opening's about to vanish. Tyres squeal as the nameless Minicon curves wide behind him.
"Heads up!" barks Stormcloud roughly, firing and missing as the stray transforms and leaps...
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He doesn't hear the warning. Doesn't hear the firing or the squeal of tires. If his gun doesn't do the job he wants it to he's going to try and bite the master's face off.
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He's moving even more slowly now, and bright colours show against the tarnished black of his armor, but his deep, ragged voice lifts to warn his small teammates even as he gathers himself to spring on the fallen enemy.
"I've got him."
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"Hey, wait! You can't-" Nightscream's concern for what Joe's about to do is cut short: Stormcloud and Waterlog are raising their launchers, and he yells at them in Minicon even as they glance at each other. Waterlog shakes his head at Stormcloud, and they hold their fire for now.
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If he manages to hit the master he's going right for the throat.
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Armorhide lowers his blaster and takes the moment to survey the remains of the other team. "Ironhide! Are you-"
"'M all right," the orange Minicon insists, pulling herself into robot-mode and scrambling up from the corner. Her visor focuses on the fight. "Slag!"
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