electricevolution | ⚡CYBERFORMED IC INBOX⚡

[ Once again; why is it that the one, the only, other person from his world is this clown? It could be literally anyone else. Even any of the other Wiley bots. Any single one of them would be preferable to Quickman's wild card.

But we must play the hand we're dealt

And there's the Joker himself. Elec would have hoped he'd stay far away from him after the last disastrous interaction but apparently that's just too much to ask for. There's something different then before right now. He's seen, felt, a transformer moments before it blew (like a device transformer, not a Cybertronian transformer) and he's getting the same vibe off him now. He's dangerous. ]

There's something wrong with you. [ He crosses his arms and narrows his optics scrutinizing him. ] More so then usual. What did you do?

[ It's hard to miss the way Quickman is still vibrating. His hands also flex near constantly just to give the energy another avenue, and even that can't stop him from moving. He's not going to just stand there; he zips around his target, never staying in one spot for long, his weapon systems online with a heavily overtaxed whine.

They definitely were not meant to be that audible. ]

CouldsayI- [ Nope, try again. Slower, Quick. ] Could say I got myself a boost! A REALLY good boost.

[ He can still taste the liquid energy on his tongue, so strong it nearly hurts. Everything kind of aches. Small price to pay for being fully operational, though. At least, that's what he thinks in the moment- Though, this juiced up, a lot feels like a good idea that shouldn't be. ]

In fact- I think I'm ready for a rematch!

[ Of course the first thing Quickman wants to do after his weapons systems have SOMEHOW onlined is come and fight him. Why should Elecman EVER be allowed to just have a nice uneventful walk? He was planning on going to the ship library to look for music files but fate is ever against him. ]

No. I think not.

[ Elecman idly examines his fingertips, making a show of looking bored. A few sparks of electricity jump from digit to digit but he's loath this time to actually attack. Quick is full to bursting, and Elec is afraid any more charge, from say and electric based attack, will just pop him. And he doesn't want to deal with bits of Quick shrapnel in him. ]

Not to sound like a broken record but this fight isn't going to go the way you think it is.

[ Quick's too, well, quick now to track with his optics so he listens instead. His movements are highly erratic, even for him, and the sounds... it's concerning. Wiley is a hack in his personal opinion but even he wouldn't have made weapons systems that sound like this. ]

If you have even a kilobyte of common sense you'll take yourself to the medical bay and get whatever fool 'power boost' thing you've done reversed before you self destruct.

[ The answer is a boomerang singing through the air, whistling overhead with a breeze to tell how close it'd come. It embeds itself hard in the wall behind Elecman, metal tearing, wires shearing. The grin that comes with it is absolutely near-manic, but it's there and gone too, because in the next instant he's moving again. Somehow, the electronic whining from the boomerang launcher is even worse now.

No more boomerangs follow the first. Yet.

Instead, if anything, the jittering is just getting worse. The zips of speed more erratic. ]

Maybeyou- [ Man, it was hard to make his words slow. The energy was still fighting him, and for a second all he can do is grit his teeth through it. ] Maybe you should- Should get new material, Sparky.

[ The red blur slams into Elecman. All that speed, all that energy, thrown into knocking over his target. Quickman ends up in a combat roll, off again in a blur of red, every system screaming. Have to expend the energy. Have to burn it off. Have to do something with it.

He readies another boomerang, feeling it click into the launcher. It's not his usual, preferred method of attack, no. The boomerangs folded in his back, the larger ones, are more his style. But this expended a hell of a lot more energy. ]

[ 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. ]

[ 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. ]

[ 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.

[ 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. ]

⚡CYBERFORMED IC INBOX⚡

Re: action

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject