|| 28 [Audio + Closed Commentlog~]

[kingofthisworld]

Since I'm sure the players in this little farce are just anxious to know how the next scene will unfold, I believe it is time for Act Two to begin.

[A pause, as he laughs softly.]

Ironhide, you're next.

[There is an edit to this post sometime later.]

[Text]

- Jak
- Ironhide
- Phoenix
- Razer

Comments

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He turns, swinging a heavy fist back toward Ganondorf's arm as he does to. There's only so many surface wires. He just has to break the other's arm, shove him away.]

[destinedtorule.livejournal.com]

[There's too much momentum and not enough time for Ganondorf to dodge completely. Ironhide's fist strikes him and the pain is sharp as it travels down his arm and settles in his elbow.

He bares his teeth. No more games. He lunges at Ironhide, ignoring how his arm protested and tries to reach a hand under the metal plating and tear out what he can.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He snarls right back. This is ridiculous--and should end. He braces himself for the lunge, and throws his weight back against the organic's, aiming to bash his head against Ganondorf's.

There's not much under his immediate paneling, save for the gap in his chest armor that never really got repaired.]

[destinedtorule.livejournal.com]

[He plants a hand, charged full of electric magic against Ironhide's head. His wrist bends at the weight, but doesn't give and he strains to push Ironhide back.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[... Well, that's different. He jerks his head back, and instead aims to kick Ganondorf's legs out from under him.]

[destinedtorule.livejournal.com]

[Ganondorf reaches down, catching Ironhide's leg. Any wiring here? If there is, he'll be tearing it out.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[A bit, and he tears his leg free, shoving his weight forward at the organic, trying to knock him down on the ground, while raising a fist to strike him.]

[destinedtorule.livejournal.com]

[Ganondorf hit the ground with a grunt. He brought his arm up, to deflect Ironhide's punch away from his face before aiming a electrically charged blow at the gap in Ironhide's chest.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He twists, aiming another blow at Ganondorf's face--

And then jerks, his intakes gasping sharply. Sensitive circuits are in there, and the protective layer covering his spark chamber. Really should have gotten that fixed. He snarls, shuddering, systems scanning for pain receptors to shut them off and hit him again.]

[destinedtorule.livejournal.com]

[Jackpot. Ganondorf would simply have to risk a blow to the face. He reaches with both hands, to tear the gap more and reach whatever rested inside.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[The blow lacks the power it should have, considering his HUD is flashing warnings about a potential spark chamber breach. That, however, only makes him want to strike harder. He attempts to roll away, to get out of range, his expression feral.]

[destinedtorule.livejournal.com]

[Ganondorf can't see what he's grabbing. He's only groping blindly and seizing whatever he could get the firmest grip on. Even the blow to the face did not deter him. He could feel blood dribbling down his chin as Ironhide rolled away, Ganondorf jerked his hands back, hoping that whatever he had his hands on would come out and slow Ironhide down.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[A chunk of circuits come away, slightly widening the hole. Ironhide snarls again, pushing himself to his feet. Fluid--bright blue--is dripping from the hole, but he refuses to go down just yet.

He sets himself, and charges again.]

[destinedtorule.livejournal.com]

[He discards the circuits and raises his hand to aim another ball of energy at the hole in Ironhide's chest.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He charges, then, in a rush similar to how he grabbed Ganondorf in the first place. His gait is a little more off than usual--missing wiring in a leg, and the ever-broken hip.]

[destinedtorule.livejournal.com]

[Ganondorf smirked, pulling his hand back and the cackling magic growing as Ironhide charges him. When he's close enough, Ganondorf's arm moved swiftly and the magic tearing through the air toward it's target.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[It... rather feels like being shot again, in that spot. His body jerks, the pain coursing through his chest, and he feels his spark shudder in response. Yet... he didn't drop when the missile struck. Even if he's moving on instinct, on momentum, he keeps charging.]

[destinedtorule.livejournal.com]

[Ganondorf braces himself for the charge, digging his feet into the ground and grappling with Ironhide. He's gripping the plates on Ironhide's arms and attempting to tear them off.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[His intakes shudder, rasping. His spark--something's off, something's wrong. It's making this brawl more difficult, he's sluggish.

But with Ganondorf's hands occupied, he tries to twist sideways, aiming another kick at his legs.]

[destinedtorule.livejournal.com]

[His knee gives and he nearly loses his balance. But he throws his weight against Ironhide, in hopes of pinning the autobot to the ground.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[His engine revs, and he leans forward, ready to headbutt the organic away again--

And his frame shudders violently, pain stabbing him in the chest. He can't shut it out. His traction slips. He tries to pull away, to put distance between them so he can run a diagnostic.]

[destinedtorule.livejournal.com]

[He releases one of Ironhide's arms, to grab his leg and pull him down to the ground.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He refuses to fall without as much of a fight as his faltering frame will allow. He swings a fist toward the big, glowing gash in Ganondorf's chest as he drops.]

[destinedtorule.livejournal.com]

[He shudders at the strike to the hole in his chest. It didn't hurt necessarily. But that didn't mean he had no feeling there. And being struck didn't help. He pants, searching his pockets for the shiv he so carefully crafted.

With the blade in hand, he aims a stomp at the hole in Ironhide's chest.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He tries to hit it again. Off of him--has to get him off. But the pain is still there, matching the pulse of his spark.

Wiring sparks, and fluid spurts--not enough to worry him. He concentrates on bypassing the pain long enough to hit his enemy.]