robothell | (no subject)

Entry tags:

sixshot | phase6kindofbot

(no subject)

Who: Sixshot and YOU.
Where: Somewhere in the city!
When: Some… time.
What: Talk to doggy! Pet the doggy! Annoy the living heck out of the doggy!
Warnings: Standard potential violence warning because Phase Sixer.

Sixshot never stayed in one place for too long. There were places he would visit often, like the Decepticon base and the Autobot clinic, but he never lingered for longer than a day.

Sometimes he dug; there were various Sixer-sized holes around the barren city now. His olfactory sensors helped with homing in on various useful equipment and he left them where either Spinister, Tarn or First Aid would find them.

More often than not, he wandered. There were massive spaces underground, caverns left by destroyed metros, the dead roots of collapsed skyscrapers. Unstable death traps to most other mechs, but quiet places for one who could withstand half a world falling upon him.

There was a hole over this particular section of what appeared to have once been an underground mall. The sound of running water echoed through the darkness and Sixshot could see the sparkling spray as he got closer to the shaft of light.

A waterfall? A very small one, but it certainly looked like a waterfall.

Sixshot slows to a stop under the collapsed ceiling. The water disappeared into a pile of rubble for the most part and plants were scattered here and there and up around the edges of the hole.

Stepping up onto the pile, the Sixer sticks his massive head out of the hole in the ground. Where does this pop up into?

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"Unless humans bathe in chemical cleansers, I would think not," Sixshot huffs. He doesn't particularly understand this concern for the flesh creatures, but he won't begrudge her for it. She was built by them after all.

That glitchmouse was going down though. The chittering has Sixshot growling threateningly.

Miria can't really say anything about how humans bathe, she's never actually watched one? Not that she'd want to, by the way. In fact she's going to take note of the growl.

"Is something upsetting Sixshot?" she asks, seemingly unaware of the glitchmouse shenanigans.

Typically, Sixshot wouldn't just charge an enemy head-on. Megatron trained him better than that.

Then again, typically, Sixshot didn't usually be caught up in a melee fight; you didn't walk around with a world destroying arsenal with the intent of getting into fisticuffs. It was sort of the opposite of this particular exercise.

So, Sixshot kicks off and gleefully charges Rampage head-on, fully intent on tackling the now taller mech around his waist.

"There's glitchmice in your fur," Sixshot rumbles moodily. "You ought to get them off before they start chewing on your wires."

And she goes cross-eyed to try and see the glitchmouse. Also fur?

"Sixshot is speaking of the rodent residing within this Unit's synthetic hair? It is harmless."

Although it does make it so she can't transform and fly, or else she'd end up hurting the creature.

Pharma isn't stupid. He's well aware that attacking First Aid was an awful idea, one that wasn't even worth it in the end. And so, he'd been laying low, sticking to the streets and hiding under the rubble that was so plentiful in this ruined city. A shameful and awful existence, but one that would keep him safe for just a bit longer.

Of course, the one day that he actually needs to starting flying is the day someone starts coming after him. Pharma curses and dives down, trying to weave his way through buildings in hopes of shaking his tail.

Edited 2015-04-05 02:35 (UTC)

Sixshot doesn't have the same maneuverability, but then, he didn't really need to maneuver around the buildings.

There's a thunderous explosion as the Phase Sixer just straight up flies through a building. He emerges from the other side, streaming dust and debris, and just a little closer.

Well, scrap. Whoever this is, they're determined. Of course, the distraction of someone busting through a freaking building in order to get to Pharma distracts the medic, and he clips his wing on the side of a building. He yelps as he careens to the ground, shifting to his robot mode as soon as the dust starts to settle.

Once he can push himself up, he tries to use the debris to his advantage, ducking underneath a pile nearby and hoping it's enough to get whoever this is off of his back.

The mechanical noise of transformation rings out through the sound of settling debris; if one were so in-tune with such things, the transformation sounds almost cheerful.

Sixshot lands on the road in his massive canine mode with a ground-heaving 'THUMP'. For a moment, he simply stands there, the thick haze of dust rendering him as little more than a gray shadow and a red pair of eyes.

Eyes that slowly turn and look directly at the spot Pharma is hiding at.

He can smell you, little flier.

"It's harmless until it's chewing on your wires." Since the chewing on the wires bit seems to have gone over Miria's head the first time.

Chuffing a disgruntled vent of air, Sixshot starts climbing out of the hole. "I know a place to get you hosed down."

Pharma cuts off his ventilations as best as he can when his follower lands. Oh, dammit all to hell, it's some kind of dog-bot. His hiding spot is futile, and he knows it, but he sinks further into the depths of the debris and swings the cannons on his shoulders front and center. He'll fight if he has to; he'd just rather not.

Ah, this is the life! He gets to indulge in violent impulses without falling into his old murderous habits! Truly it is a win-win situation. Though he does kind of miss that delicious sting of pain and fear...

He's got other things to think about. Bracing his feet, Rampage leans all of his weight forward to meet Sixshot's tackle, trying to turn it into a grapple rather than be bowled over.

All the while, he laughs wildly.

It's almost as if he has some weird sixth sense. Like, something drawing him over to where the big bot is. Because while he certainly didn't go looking for Sixshot, the sudden appearance of a canine-like head attracts attention. He was just trying to find a place to roost, no bird puns intended.

And then BAM.

There was a dog there.

The massive head just a few feet from the little niche he'd holed himself up into.

Sixshot takes his time making his way over, long, lazy strides, entirely unconcerned about the possibility of being shot at.

He stops just a bare few meters away from Pharma's cover and stretches out onto his belly, claws curling around the rubble and the jet hiding behind it.

"You," he purrs, low and deep. "Should tell me exactly what your relation to Tarn is."

Rampage had better be bracing hard because Sixshot hits him like a freight train made of ununtrium and high density metal armor.

He also has a lower center of gravity now.

Which means the moment he gets his arms around Rampage's middle, he's suplexing the crab straight through the ground and into the mall underneath.

That.

Was a familiar scent.

Sixshot turns his head and peers up at Kagerou.

"... Hello?"

Well, he looks a bit silly, curled up in this ball of rubble like a cornered animal. He lets himself vent again, but he keeps the cannons aimed. That can't be what this whole chase was all about, can it? Pharma scoffs.

"Should I, now? Perhaps you should tell me exactly why you felt the need to cause so much damage chasing after me, of all mechs."

"... Hello."

He relaxes a bit when he hears the voice. That just confirms what he thought -- as if there could really be another giant dog bot around.

"Are you stuck?"

Rampage is bracing very hard, but Sixshot's impact still makes him wheeze, his feet dragging deep rivets in the ground as he's forced back. He hasn't recovered when suddenly he's flying through the air headfirst and straight down.

He hardly notices when he breaks through the rusting roof of the mall, but the crater-making impact with the floor has a bit more of an effect. He's just sitting up to glare at Sixshot through the hole he body made when a large portion of the ceiling promptly collapses on him.

Rude.

There's a scrape as the Sixer turns his massive claws inwards, mouth parting in a toothy lupine smile.

"You took an arm from someone I like, Pharma." Sixshot's dark purr drops into something darker, edging on a growl. "What you tell me might be the only thing that will stop me from killing you."

"No." Sixshot sounds decidedly guarded. Unsure. Their last encounter had been very... strange.

"... How. Are you?" he asks tentatively.

Just to really put some salt in the wound, Sixshot does a neat little midair twist as he follows Rampage down and nails the absolutely flawless landing.

Right on top of the rubble covering the crab mech.

How's that for a giant Gary Stu bastard?

Okay, so maybe he's a little bigger than Koh expected, but hey, dog is dog. You can't really go wrong with dog.

The smaller canine's scent doesn't reveal much besides someone's been rolling around in the ground or lot. Or maybe busying himself with the plant life a lot. Either way, he approaches the larger canine after a moment of staring.

"I am Koh."

After a pause, there's a lot of muffled cursing from under the rubble. Then with a heave, Rampage bursts up through it, knocking chunks of ceiling and any Sixshot's that remain in the area flying.

Then, with a loud huff, he promptly sits down on a piece of rubble.

"Good." Because he really couldn't dig the huge robot out of trouble, if he were in it. Which he'd try.

His weight shifts, and he ends up transforming, still crouched in the alcove. "Alive." Wow, they're both so good at this conversation thing. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

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