robothell | It Always Feels Like...

It Always Feels Like...

Who: Rampage and Tarn. Maybe Spinister?
Where: In the city. Where you shouldn't be, Tarn
When: Probably after Tarn talks to Brainstorm about anti-Rampage weaponry
What: STALKING
Warnings: Horrible murderer stalks other horrible murderer so... who know

Tarn is in the city.

Rampage is pretty sure this isn't the first time since Tarn's banishment, but this time he knows for sure. Because he's here in the city and Tarn's spark is nearby, and he's not sure what to do about that. As much as he'd love to go pluck off the remainder of Tarn's fingers and devour them one-by-one, Sixshot has convinced him that hurting Tarn is a bad idea for reasons that have nothing to do with Tarn and everything to do with Sixshot and First Aid.

Sigh.

However, he doesn't necessarily need to hurt Tarn to bother him. In fact, he doesn't even have to interact directly with Tarn at all. What if he just creeps a little closer, being ever-so-silent and keeping behind his target... and just picks up a small rock and tosses it across the street to clatter around inside a broken storefront.

Making sure he's well-hidden, he stretches out his spark's senses and waits.

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Tarn's spirits are high as he leaves Brainstorm's workshop. Things had gone exactly as he had hoped with minimal resistance from his new business associate. Leaving Spinister with Brainstorm, he is feeling confident enough that he can make it back to their shack with no problems.

His footsteps are light and quiet as he travels a hidden maze of alleyways and tiny side streets, holding the best chance to avoid contact with any of the city's inhabitants and remaining as discreet as possible.

Tarn hasn't gone far when a small noise clatters inside a storefront somewhere behind him. He instantly freezes, glancing around to pinpoint the source of the noise. Finding nothing, he brushes it off as the rubble probably settling. Tarn is a heavy frame type, perhaps the vibration in the ground had loosened something...

Rampage makes sure he keeps his chuckle internal when he feels Tarn's spark of surprise. He waits for him to move on before beginning to follow, not along his chosen path but parallel to it, along the wider passages that Tarn ignores. He can't lose him, not while his spark still hums away.

When Tarn passes another an intersection of their paths he does it again, this time bouncing the stone off a leaning lamppost so that it clangs loudly before clattering off somewhere else.

Tarn's fuel pump flips and his entire body jerks as a rock ricochets off of a lamp post next to him. That was most certainly not rubble settling. His optics frantically scan the street around him, finding nothing out of the ordinary.

Deciding to play it safe, Tarn goes completely still for a few minutes, listening for any signs of life nearby. He considers, perhaps, taking some time to lay low in one of these abandoned store fronts, but quickly brushes the thought off. The last thing he wants to do is corner himself in unknown territory.

It's even harder not to laugh this time, but Rampage keeps it inside, not willing to give himself up yet. Let Tarn wonder! He can wait.

And wait he does, as Tarn stops and listens and worries. Let him make the first move, Rampage can be patient. And when it's finally 'safe' for him to move again he plans his next trick.

He can feel a small herd of nitrodeer nearby. They've gotten skittish of him lately, so why not scare them off and send them running right across Tarn's path?

The ten minute pause in his journey is spent tensely holding stone still. Even his own ventilations seem too loud as he tries to listen for even the smallest sound. Hearing nothing, Tarn decides that it must have been a fluke. Perhaps the rock had gotten somehow caught under his feet and kicked up into the light post.

Slowly, he begins to relax. After a moment to collect himself he takes another few steps forward; only to be nearly run down by a group of nitrodeer. Flailing, Tarn falls flat on his aft, scrambling backwards and out of their way.

A low wheeze escapes his throat, and his head falls back on his shoulders. It's possible that they may have been the cause of all the small disturbances. Relieved, he internally scolds himself for being so paranoid.

Rampage presses against a wall perpendicular to Tarn's current backstreet, out of sight. One large hand clutches his face and his beast mode legs tremble with suppressed laughter. What graceful flailing!

But is that relief he's feeling? They can't have that! Here's a nice bit of metal wall... He presses his fingers into it and drags them down with a long, loud squeal that echoes eerily through the empty streets.

Then he retreats around a corner, as quickly and carefully as he can in case Tarn pinpoints the sound.

Tarn hasn't even taken a step yet, still reigning himself in from his silly panic. He can't believe that he let himself get so wound up over a small herd of---SCREEEEECH

That most certainly was not nitrodeer. Tarn is quickly able to pinpoint where the sound came from, but nothing is there. Just a metal wall with nothing around it that could conceivably make that sort of noise.

He wants to call out to ask who is there, but the risk of Megatron, or someone close to him, hearing him is too great. Instead, he quietly slinks to crouch behind a pile of rubble, glancing around for any movement. He might need to take the risk and enter one of these buildings. He's sure that there will be a back exit onto another street. Perhaps if he goes quick enough, he will be able to evade whatever is stalking him.

There's no further sounds as Tarn considers his options. Rampage is tucked away out of sight and waiting for his prey to make a move.

What fun this is! Not as delightful as wringing pain drop by drop from someone, but more entertaining than tormenting deer. He's already thinking about the things he could do with more planning, should Tarn choose to enter the city again.

For now, he waits. There's no way you can evade this one Tarn!

Deciding to take the risk, Tarn slips as quietly as he can into the closest boarded up storefront, glancing over his shoulder every few steps to watch for anyone following him. The inside is destroyed, furnished only with scattered piles of twisted metal and glass with very little light coming from the hastily covered windows.

Silently and quickly as possible, he makes for the back of the building, weaving through rubble and hastily clambering over crumbled walls. A quick glance back confirms that he’s still alone and Tarn eases into a sigh. The back door isn’t far, but as Tarn’s fingers reach around the handle to pull, he finds that the door is rusted shut.

Yanking fruitlessly for a few moments, he is determined not to give up. Afraid to make too much noise and give away his position, Tarn elects not to shoulder the door off of it’s hinges. Instead, he begins searching what's left of the back room for anything that could be used to disassemble the hardware. The task is only made harder by the pitch dark consuming the deepest recesses of the building.

Rampage doesn't follow Tarn into the building, but he does follow him around it. There are no windows in the back room, so he can't see Tarn and, more importantly, Tarn can't see him. But he can still feel him, that spark pulsing warm and worried on the other side of the wall.

Cocking back a fist, he slams it into the wall. He could no doubt punch straight through it if he wanted, but he pulls the blow so it damages nothing. Just enough to make a racket.

Tarn startles as a loud bang rings through the darkness. The reverberation of metal and resulting echo make it difficult to pinpoint where exactly it is coming from.

If whoever is circling outside is going to tell Megatron about his presence in the city, then there is not much he can do to stop them. It's clear that his hopes of slipping from the city unnoticed have failed miserably.

Backing away from the door, he grabs a steal pipe from the ground.

"Who's there?" he calls softly into to darkness. Unfortunately, he has a feeling that he already knows the answer.

Rampage doesn't answer, at least not with words. That would ruin the uncertainty of the game. Instead he slowly saunters towards the back door, digging his fingers into the wall and dragging them in a long scraaaaaaape.

When he finally reaches the door he doesn't bust it open, though he could. Instead he just begins to rattle it furiously. Little flakes of rust break off and float away like snow.

Stumbling backwards over a discarded chair, Tarns first instinct is to clear the door as it begins rattling. His hold on the pipe tightens, and his optics brighten with growing anger. How dare someone toy with him like this!

“Show yourself, coward!" Tarn growls, taking a step forward, sending a quick ping to Spinister with his location in case this goes awry. He tries pulling to door open in one last effort, earning a shrill screech as the hinges begin bucking every-so-slightly.

Oh no, Tarn is taunting him! Good thing Rampage doesn't actually care. No, he's just going to keep rattling this door and frustrating Tarn, until the ex-'Con tries to pull it open.

Well, they can't have that! So he turns his attention to keeping the door shut in a game of tug-o-war.

Not hurting people can be pretty hilarious! He's going to have the hugest laugh about this later.

Trying to get the door open was proving to be an uphill battle. With the hinges loosened he should be able to simply shoulder open the door. But whoever was on the other side was steadfastly holding it shut. Every time Tarn manages to open it a crack, the mech on the other side is quick to pull it shut.

With a fed up snarl, Tarn attempts to simply stomp the door off of its hinges, steadying himself on his crippled leg against the door frame and kicking out with his good leg. Although he acknowledges that this may not be the brightest idea, he's committed. And other than a bit of aching in the knee joint, the leg is able to hold his weight without much problem.

Caution of making too much noise, flies out the window and flakes of rust flutter to the ground around him. After a few solid kicks, the door begins to completely separate from the frame.

Just one more solid stomp and it Tarn will really be able to give his stalker a piece of his mind.

Wow, Tarn, stop trying to ruin his fun by revealing his identity. It doesn't matter if Tarn suspects it's Rampage, it'll ruin the suspense if he knows for sure it's him!

What to do, what to do?

...Rampage shoves suddenly, forcing the door the rest of the way off its hinges but towards Tarn, rather than away from him. Trusting the surprise and the sudden burst of light from around the door to cover him, he swings flat against the side of the building, then books it as fast as be can around the nearest corner.

Smooth.

Tarn grunts in surprise as the door suddenly is forced on top of him. He staggers, only just managing to catch himself from falling on his face.

He's up and out from under the door like a shot, bursting out into the open air of the city. Tarn's optics are bright and wild as he desperately scans his surroundings.

Nothing. No one. He takes the opportunity to attempt a hasty getaway, keeping close to the shadows and constantly glancing over his shoulder. He has his suspicions about who it is that's after him.

Spinister is just minding his own damn business looking for scrap when a huge red fellow rounds the corner and nearly smacks into him.

He makes most offended noise and just glares at Rampage. What the hell, mate?

Rampage jolts at the sudden appearance of a smaller - though not exactly small - mech in front of him. He'd been so distracted keeping tabs in Tarn that he hadn't even noticed the other spark signature!

Not wanting to attract Tarn's attention he just glares down at Spinister and makes a little shooing motion.

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It Always Feels Like...

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