⚡CYBERFORMED IC INBOX⚡

[electricevolution]

 

⚡ Elecman here.  Leave a message and maybe I’ll get back to you. ⚡

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[electricevolution]

[ Quickman is getting harder, no near impossible now to track even by sound. So when he slams into him, Elecman doesn't even have a chance to dodge. Warnings flash in his HUD and he really hopes that whatever he hears crack inside his chest isn't important. He hits the wall with a pained grunt. This is not the first time Elec has questioned why Light gave them such accurate pain receptors. ]

...Moments from blowing and you're too obsessed with this desperate pointless fight to notice... But if all this power is what you really want... Let me give you a hand.

[ Electricity sparks down his arms and across his fingertips and sends bolts of it Quickman's way. It's not very strong but Elec doesn't want it to be. It's about the same level of energy he's use to top off another Robot Master's battery level. This is a special targeted attack after all. That launcher especially is overtaxed and teetering on the edge of horrible malfunction, too much juice in his zaps and disaster will strike, he's aiming for JUST enough. ]

[quickandthered]

[ A lot of things happen at the same time.

Quickman skids out of another blur, venting hard, sparks already catching in his teeth and Elecman's not even hit him yet. Any avenue out, right? And with coding screaming into overtime, he raises his launcher again, and aims down imaginary sights. Right at Elecman.

Click.

Click click.

The energy howls inside him, even if no one else can hear it, and shocked surprise in his optics wars with the grit teeth determination of forcing it anyway. Energy, through his systems, clawing at his wiring on its way through. Burning his launcher's. But it has to get out. It has to get out.

Quickman forces the energy through his systems, too desperate to listen to all the warnings it and his target can throw at him.

Elecman meets that howling tide with his own.

And the launcher explodes.

Golden yellow shrapnel, the scattered shards of every single quick boomerang that he had still prepped and ready, goes flying in all directions. Quickman does too; no combat roll here, just an ungraceful tumble backwards, slamming against the opposite wall. Hard.

Once the smoke clears, it finds his arm still, surprisingly, mostly intact. There's an ugly mess where the launcher once sat, half-melted and half-blown to pieces, things exposed that probably shouldn't be (and not all those burned wires were the result of that final destruction). But the explosion didn't rip it off, at least.

Instead Quickman just... Lies there for a moment, wheezing, vents coming sharp and fast. Judging by the look in his optics, that finally cut through the mania that the intense overcharge inflicted on him. Now, there's just pain. Pain, and fear. Not that all the energy is burned out, no, but the vibrating seems to have lessened a bit, into a 'mere' jitter.

But, finally, no matter how long him lying there seems to drag on... Eventually he scrabbles to his feet in a manner befitting panic, rather than the smug, collected pride typical of the Wilybot. It's difficult, using one hand; he tries both at first, only to gasp and realize that's a bad idea pretty fast. Even once up, he sways. The jittering isn't helping his balance.

This time, there's no aggression. This time, Quickman takes a step back. ]

[electricevolution]

[ Aaaand this is why he didn't want to do that. More alerts appear on his HUD and he dismisses them all with a groan. He doesn't need automatic emergency diagnostics to let him know he has chunks of boomerang and... ugh... Quickman shrapnel stuck in him.

A look across the hall tells him that however bad he's feeling... Quick is feeling much MUCH worse. You know if he'd just come across him in this state he'd perhaps feel bad for him. Maybe even try to help him, get him to the repair bay on ship. Right now though? He's annoyed. Beyond that really but we'll stick with 'annoyed'. There's something cracked in his internals and he has pieces of Quickman in him. And he knows that Quickman has done this to himself. There's no sympathy here.

Maybe later when there's been some time to reflect, but now? Nothing.

Elec does a quick diagnostic on himself and then after determining he won't just fall over, pushes off of the wall with an inelegant stumble. ]

Now. I'm going to see to my repairs. I suggest you do the same.

[quickandthered]

[ A flash of deep, true panic digs into Quickman's expression. Whatever he's thinking, the after-effects of being that juiced up and the energy starting to fade... He takes another step back. And another.

He doesn't even nod.

Just turns... And runs. ]