2017-02-26 Worthy Opponent

From Transformers: Lost and Found

2017-02-26 Worthy Opponent
Date 2017/02/26
Location Lost Light Recreation- Practice Rooms
Participants Fortress Maximus, Torque
Summary A duel between powerful fighters looking for something a little more intense than simulations.

These multi-purpose rooms are capable of being put to any one of a number of uses, including training, exercise, and plain ol' fun. It's a good place for sparring or for sports. The walls have been reinforced and soundproofed so that live weapons can be fired within, serving as a shooting range. This also means that noise does not carry far, no matter how boisterous the game.

Torque has realized her time in the practice rooms has been getting lax due to her busier schedule. After a rigorous exercise warmup, nearly maxing out the weight machine in the back, she feels limber enough for an opponent.

She's hesitant to ask someone to spar her, for fear of having to put them back together again, but luckily they have the magic that is hardlight holographs. The featureless mech that stands before her is some heads above her, perhaps Megatron size, and thickly armored. But that doesn't detract from its speed, Torque backpedaling as she ducks and weaves around a set of punches, her vents huffing loudly from the effort of dodging and puting up with some of the dents on her form.

Gotta wait for the right moment and.. there! The mech pivots differently when throwing another punch, Torque taking the opportunity and leaping in, dancing under the fist on practiced steps and cocking back her own before sailing forward. The resounding CRACK ripples through the room and halts the mech dead in his tracks, stopped by the fist that's broken the barrier of his armor, nearly passing through his torso. The wound spiders like broken glass as the holograph flickers, a droning voice crackling, "Err...or..." After a moment is dissolves out of existance and Torue stands, grunting and shaking her helm. "Need to up that armor stat some more."

There's no better way to work out frustration and stress than in the practice room, except in actual combat. And well, it isn't as if Fortress Maximus has had many chances for that lately. Can't take it out on a live opponent it's okay to kill? Go boot up a simulation.

He usually tries to time it so the room's empty when he heads there, but no such luck this time. He walks in just as Torque demolishes her own virtual opponent, red optics widening as she overwhelms its armor stat.

"Impressive," he rumbles, looking over at Torque. "I can come back later if you're still..." Though it has been a while since he's had a sparring opponent.

Torque holds a shoulder while rolling it when turning at the sound of someone in the room, not having noticed until he spoke. "Hm?-- Oh! Heya, Fort Max!" They ay not have met officially, but he's hard not to know and she has the advantage of knowing names from medical files. "'Course not, mech, c'mon in." She welcomes him jovially and invites him in with a wave of the hand. "These holos can't seem to hold up, anyway, they're not that much fun."

The smaller medic shrugs and holds out a hand to him once he's closer, shaking with a firm grip. "Name's Torque, good to meetcha."

Max seems a little taken aback by how friendly Torque is, but not so much that he retreats. He walks further into the practice room, returning the handshake with just a bit of stiff awkwardness. At least Torque is big and sturdy enough that he doesn't have to be too careful doing it.

"Torque," he says with a nod, scanning the room behind her briefly. "They're not really built to last. I've had the program give out on me before too. I take that to mean you're up for a live opponent? I should warn you, I do have a habit of getting...intense."

But he's doing alright today, doesn't think he had nightmares, didn't even drink last night to make himself sleep. It'll be fine.

Torque is surprised to be offered a sparring partner, taking a second to blink up at him, her antennas pivoting up and a little forward in interest. "Eh? Really? You wanna fight me?" That sparkle that now lights her amber optics couldn't be brighter with her smile near equally so.

"Well then, how could I possible say now? And don't you worry. Intense is my kinda speed." Smirking, the femme takes a few steps back to put some breathing room between them before sinking into a brawler stance. Her fists raise to hover near her face, though one briefly uncurls to taunt him with a beckoning wave. "Since you were nice enough to ask, I'll let yah throw the first punch. Bring it on, big mech."

Fortress Maximus seems a bit surprised at Torque's joyful reaction. He almost smiles a little himself before settling into a stance himself, huge fists balled and legs spread. "Well, if you put it that way..."

In a fight, Max is all force and no flash. He lunges forward, swinging a fist right at Torque in a sharp uppercut. He's not fast, but there's a lot of power even behind a sparring swing.

What Fort Max may have in power, Torque makes up for in size. A larger, slower fist is always easier to dodge than a quick jab from someone her own size. The femme holds her ground as the tank comes charging forward, waiting yet again for her opportune moment like she'd done with the hologram. Watching his body language with sharp optics, she calculates his swing and quicksteps just to the side of it while lunging into his space.

It's time to get a feel for that armor of his, wondering just how thick it is. Throwing a balled fist, she connects square with his chest in a moderately powered punch for her ability. But where an average mech's chestplate would be well dented in, Max's appears to hold strong. Torque grits her dentals at this discovery, mind moving quick before she tries to ghost around him and dig her fists into his side with a quick flurry of lesser punches to overwhelm.

Fortress Maximus didn't get a name that suggests 'impenetrable' for no reason. That he felt Torque's fist at all is significant enough, and he takes note of that as well as her rapid blows. He doubts he'll be able to dodge those, but dodging isn't really his style. He is a literal tank.

Gritting his teeth, he shifts his weight to one leg and lifts one of those heavy feet of his, attempting to slam hiss knee into Torque's leg and knock her down with the force of it.

Damn, that is one thick hide! It's been a long time since Torque's had an opponent she couldn't dent, and she'll be damned if that happens now. Her punches are rebuffed, earning an aggrivated huff from her vents. "Primus, mech, you just forged like this or are you secretly a point one percenter?" She says this with a sharp smirk, of course, admiring his form and ability.

But it's when his weight shifts that her attention changes, strafing a step or two to avoid the massive pede coming her way. This is where she grins, instantly moving back in, hoping to wrap her arms around his leg before he can pull it back. If she's able to, the femme will plant her pedes more firmly, a cha-chunk sound heard as weight-bearing joints on her frame tighten and lock for extra oomph as she tries to pour her power into lifting his giant form and tossing him across the room.

"Actually, a Point One Percenter." Did Max forget to mention that? "But think of it like this-you're keeping up with one." He isn't smiling, because he only does that in combat when things get really intense (read: violent), but maybe that was his attempt at being lighthearted.

Keeping up enough that Fort Max can't seem to land a hit on Torque. He lunges forward with his weight shifted that way as he tries to slam a shoulder against Torque-provided he isn't thrown first!

Torque manages to lifts the tankformer, her systems groaning a little from the strain, but before she can fling him she finds him twisting in her grip to strike out with his large pauldron of a shoulder. "Ergh!" Her toss is half-hearted from the impact, not moving him very far while she herself staggers back, a hand on her chest as she winces. Her plating may not be as thick as Max's, but it's dense enough to take a solid punch. If anything, a headlight spiders with a crack due to weaker material.

"Hn.. Alright, that's it!" Torque bites, frustrated as her joints unlock again. She's gonna make a dent in this mech if it's the last thing she does! Digging in the balls of her pedes, her body tense, the brawler springs forward and runs full tilt at him, the fire shining behind amber optics blazing with passion when charging. Her arm pulls back sharply just as she closes the gap, internal mechanisms whining against building strength. And as she reaches him she makes a leap for him, cocked fist letting lose with all her strength behind it, driving forward into whatever she can strike first like a freight train.

Max looks genuinely surprised when Torque is even able to lift him at all, venting in an audible gasp at that before tearing from her grip with that shoulder-slam. He's equally astonished when he realizes it didn't even dent her. "Hah, a real challenge! Haven't had that in a while!" Now he does grin, optics narrowed as he rights himself.

He springs into a defensive pose as she rushes at him, preparing to catch that punch and swing his own free fist at the oncoming mech to use her force and speed against her.

Torque sees that waiting hand wanting to catch her, ultimately deciding it needs to go in favor of the chestplate she originally was aiming for. Her fist swings wider than expected and aims for his upper arm near the shoulder instead, the full force of it finally buckling armor. Once her pede touches the ground again, she twists quick to steer clear of his flying punch, dropping to a near crouch and mirroring his grin up at him. "Heh, I'd say the same, big bot!"

Not even a second after she says that does she spring back up, using the momentum to power a harsh uppercut into the bottom of his square jaw that she hopes to knock his back with.

Max lets out a grunt of pain as Torque manages to buckle and dent his arm, leaving it temporarily useless. He lets it hang at his side, a bit too astonished to be angry, but reminds himself not to lose track of what he's doing. The fight's still on! And damn, you know it's a good fight if someone manages to dent his damn armor.

Well, when he can actually fight back.

He lunges back in an attempt to dodge that uppercut, trying to use his knee to throw off Torque's leap and send her flying.

Again with those heavy loaded knees of his! Fort Max's move forces Torque to move unexpectedly, which allows her to dodge the incoming knee, yet leaves her punch falling short into his midsection where it does nothing. She can see this fight isn't going much of anywhere, calling the strike to his arm a bit of a fluke, so she's quick to back off, puffing laborously and raising a hand.

"Phew.. Hold up, Max, one sec.." Her internal fans whirr, trying to ease back the heat of her systems. "You're one tough son of a glitch. I can say it might be a while before we do much damage to each other." A brief second to look at the arm and wince. "Er.. I can fix that. How about we call truce for the moment?"

Max falls back, still holding that arm of his. It isn't that it hurts very much, but the joint's locked up from the force of that earlier blow.

On first instinct he wants to protest. He has a worthy opponent, the rush of battle is just starting to come back to him, he missed it so much...but this is a sparring match. It's just for practice. He promised himself he wouldn't get carried away. "Yeah...yeah. Truce sounds good. Otherwise we might be at this for hours." He holds up the arm for her, blinking at the 'I can fix it.' "It's a little locked up. The new joints that."

"Heh, that's why I think it's good to stop. ..Or at least pause." Torque muses and straightens up, walking back over to him and gestures him down. "S'alright. Aside from bein' a medic, I've beeb doin' this stuff almost all my life." When he's closer she'll have hands on his shoulder joint, feeling around under the pauldron armor before finding the right points and applying some pressure while rubbing it. This should help ease and unlock the joint. All the while she smiles warmly to the big bot, winded yet happy. "Hell of a fighter. Would hate to catch you out in the field, heh."

Max seems to tense for a moment as she takes his arm, even though he offered it freely. It isn't that he doesn't trust her. He had respect for medics even back during the war, and that only increased when he found out it was First Aid who finally managed to wake him up. Old instincts just take a while to go away.

But things click back into place, relief visible in his face as he relaxes. "Thank you," he says quietly. "You weren't shabby yourself. As for out in the battlefield, well..." There's that grin again, sneaking its way back. "Be nice to get out there again when I don't have to hold back."

And then the grin's gone. Nice seeing you, grin, while you lasted. "We'll have to spar again sometime. Seems like we both need someone who can keep up, and the simulations don't always do it."

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