2018-01-15 Easy Mode
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Location||Lost Light: Recreation -- Practice Rooms|
|Summary||Turns out Prowl's really bad at hand-to-hand.|
The practice rooms are soundproofed and reinforced, serving as one part race track, one part shooting range, one part obstacle course, and one part holodeck. Oh, while also functioning as practice rooms. Honestly, it's a busy space, composed of many smaller rooms that can function individually or be taken down for a large course.
Prowl's jaw takes another heavy hit from Sideswipe's fist, and it's enough to split the dentae band. He spits a shard and some energon, and takes a few steps back. Sideswipe had already done a number on him, with his grille twisted, a headlight shattered, and his hood dented inward. But Sideswipe is sporting a few modest dents of his own. Not enough, Prowl thinks to himself. He reaches to grab one of Sideswipe's horn, to bring down against a knee.
<FS3> Opposed Roll -- Sideswipe=unarmed Vs Prowl=unarmed < Sideswipe: Good Success (3 8 6 1 7 4 3 2 6 5 7 4 5) Prowl: Good Success (7 4 7 3 3 5) < Net Result: Sideswipe wins - Marginal Victory
That's the problem when tactical geniuses decide to spar with their frontliners. The frontliners are built to take a beating and give one out. "C'mon Prowl, you've got more'n that in you dude." Sideswipe taunts, forcing out of the hold and using the ducking to drive a shoulder into Prowl's abdomen to lift the mech up and toss him onto the ground. Sensory horn grabbing is playing dirty.
<FS3> Opposed Roll -- Sideswipe=unarmed Vs Prowl=unarmed < Sideswipe: Good Success (1 1 6 4 2 7 3 6 6 7 6 4 2) Prowl: Success (3 8 4 3 2 6) < Net Result: Sideswipe wins - Marginal Victory
"H'ff!" Prowl's vents stutter as his systems endure that slam against his middle. Sideswipe is successful in hoisting Prowl up, though Prowl doesn't make it easy as he thrashes and hurls his fist against Sideswipe's back. Then he's tossed to the floor, where he lands flat on his back. His light bar cracks. "Enforcing... involved... more shooting... less brawling," he says, pulling himself upright. This time he tries for a one-two jab at Sideswipe's helm guard.
<FS3> Opposed Roll -- Sideswipe=unarmed Vs Prowl=unarmed < Sideswipe: Success (1 6 2 6 3 2 2 5 2 7 2 6 2) Prowl: Good Success (8 3 1 7 3 8) < Net Result: Prowl wins - Solid Victory
All these hits toward his helm, you'd think Prowl's mad at his good looks or something. Sideswipe takes the blows straight to his face, recoiling enough to avoid any major damage but Prowl dents the plating and gets a good jab in at his mouth. Sideswipe hisses, ducking back and dropping down to swipe out Prowl's feet instead. "This'll be good practice then!"
<FS3> Opposed Roll -- Sideswipe=unarmed Vs Prowl=unarmed < Sideswipe: Amazing Success (5 2 2 4 1 8 8 4 7 7 7 2 8) Prowl: Good Success (4 8 4 2 8 1) < Net Result: Sideswipe wins - Crushing Victory
"Supposed to be practice for /you/," Prowl growls, shaking out his sore knuckles. Before he can spend a split-second looking smug, Sideswipe catches his heels, and Prowl buckles, falling hard on his back once again. His doors strain on their hinges and he yelps. "Frag!" With a weak time-out gesture, he just lies there, trying to cool his frame.
"Not that I don't enjoy having a partner," Sideswipe starts, makes a face, and promptly spits out a trickle of energon onto the floor. "Buuut..." He's halfway into a plan to drop an elbow down on Prowl before stopping, turning it into a crouch beside the mech instead. "You're really bad at this. It's not much of a challenge. No shorn struts?"
"If you allowed me /weapons/ I could level the playing field," Prowl snaps, leering as his fans whir. "I haven't had the luxury of the front-line. And I don't even know what that expression is supposed to mean. My struts are fine." He flips over and finds his footing again. Hopefully fast enough to throw Sideswipe off as he aims his own tackle against the twin's hood. If he lands it, he'll drive Sideswipe against the wall.
<FS3> Opposed Roll -- Sideswipe=unarmed Vs Prowl=unarmed < Sideswipe: Great Success (7 8 3 4 8 6 8 5 5 4 5 3 6) Prowl: Success (6 1 3 7 3 6) < Net Result: Sideswipe wins - Solid Victory
"And what'll you do when you lose yours?" Sideswipe counters, rising up and taking a step back away from Prowl's lunge toward him. He does stick out a leg in hopes of tripping the doorwinged mech, watching almost with disinterest. "Means they haven't split in half from a fall or sheared out of their housings. Shorn struts means we stop."
<FS3> Opposed Roll -- Sideswipe=unarmed Vs Prowl=unarmed < Sideswipe: Good Success (8 3 1 2 1 6 5 6 5 6 8 8 2) Prowl: Failure (1 1 5 3 4 5) < Net Result: Sideswipe wins - Solid Victory
"Call for backup-oof!" Prowl misses spectacularly, and runs head first into the wall. Thankfully it's padded, though that doesn't help too much. He sinks to his knees with a groan, a smear of energon following him down. "Ugh, fine. Shorn struts," he mutters through his split lip, carefully flipping over to lean against the wall. He looks as battered as once might expect after a round with a twin. The red and blue glass from his light bar litters the ground around him. "Half hour... should be enough..." As if this was a favor.
"You'll be offline before backup gets there." Sideswipe observes, making another unpleasant face at the energon-stained wall. Gross. "Timeout? Okay." And he plops down where he is, watching Prowl. "Shorn struts means you actually have a shorn strut. Sunstreaker'n' me usually go 'till then." He explains anyway. "Y'know, because if you can't fight through that, you're not going to last as a frontliner. Except Medics usually get mad if you're getting really extensive injuries from sparring."
"/Ideally/ I'd have enough foresight to avoid these sort of situations," Prowl says, waving his hand dismissively. "I haven't shorn any damn struts yet." He starts to wipe energon off, and only manages to spread it around. Now he's a glowing magenta mess. "Well hopefully they won't be too angry at me when I drag my sorry aft over there. Maybe we can find you someone that's hardier."
"Psh. Yeah." Because that's going to work every time, Prowl. Sideswipe rocks up into a crouch, pulling out a rag and shuffling over to wipe off some of the energon so Prowl looks a little less like a hot mess. "I've got Sunny for a reason. Things're fi- better. But dude if you think you could use some help like, power to ya I'm down to lend a fist."
Prowl hikes himself further up the wall in an attempt to avoid that rag, but fatigue keeps him down, and he endures it with a soft, defeated vent. "I believe I'm hitting the limits of my build here, Sideswipe. They weren't creating frames with thicker armor, on-board weaponry and powerful tensors for the First Wave. If you're willing to lend a /fist/, show me you can dial it back."
"Crumply." Sideswipe mumbles, careful with the rag in cleaning up the worst of the energon spatters and smears. "Um." He has the audacity to look confused, gaze flickering up from the cleanup operation to Prowl's face. "I... was?"
"Hilarious," Prowl growls.
"I'm not joking." Sideswipe frowns, flicking the rag back into subspace.
Prowl studies Sideswipe for a long, uncomfortable moment, then finally rolls his helm and lifts his optic ridges. "Okay, well. Can you offer some guidance without beating me to a pulp? Can we use weapons? Nothing ranged..."
Sideswipe is very transparent, it's clear he's sure he was going easy on Prowl. "What if," He starts, tilting his head back to look up toward the ceiling. "You find a sparring partner that's got matching specs, and I supervise? You should learn hand-to-hand."
Prowl's expression sours. "Maybe I'll grab Bluestreak. Then we can both suffer his endless blathering." There's his eventual smirk, however bloodied. "That's what Max is doing for Combat, isn't he. Pairing everyone up. Did you find a partner?"
"You two do match up aces." Sideswipe nods, popping himself up to stand and offering a hand down to Prowl. "I was made with one, why would I need to get another?" In case Prowl was wondering if Sideswipe had considered anyone other than Sunstreaker.
"I don't know," Prowl answers honestly. "I see you as an individual." He takes the hand and hauls himself up on shaking legs. Something clearly snapped, somewhere. "I'm going to the medibay. Don't follow me. I'm fine. We'll be in touch." He all but collapses into his alt mode, and zooms out, loudly, with a flapping flat tire.