re_alignment | [Broadcasting from just outside Megatronus Prime's Arena][Actionspam welcome]

[It was no surprise to him that his time on this new Cybertron was going better than his last three years on an ancient one. Parts for the portal were already being gathered and assembled, nobody was directly threatening to kill him, and he'd passed his schematics out to multiple individuals who had a shot at making it work. With nothing more to do on the project, himself, he'd decided to pursue a little...entertainment, and perhaps secure a bit of additional assistance on the way.]

[Besides, this arena was actually pretty nice.]

It's been almost a decacycle, and though little has changed in how these 'Firstforged' treat us, we've already managed to accomplish enough.

Of course, if we're to become monsters as I've heard claims we will be, then those of you who are marked should get a bit of practice in beforehand, hm?

[Without a further word, a bright purple glow illuminates the screen for a moment as Megatron unsheathes his energon mace from his hand-socket and gives it a whirl.]

I have a meeting with one or two already, so this message is for the rest...

Do you think you have what it takes, to go tread to tread with a Megatron?

[He'll be waiting.]

Locked to Overlord

This goes double, for you.

[Yes, he knows you are in a prison and all. However, he doesn't suspect that's going to stop you, if the rumors he has heard are true.]

Locked to Barricade and Ambulon

As it helps to be prepared, I could use the assistance of a medic. Willing to lend a hand?

[Although it's phrased as a question, he expects at least one of you to be there. Otherwise, he might get...cranky. You know. If there's no one to patch up the folks he's trying not to kill.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You seem...familiar.

[The last time he had heard the voice, however, it hadn't been so calm. So controlled...no. No, it had been different. This pink femme is not the same as the other pink femme he had known.]

You are not Arcee.

[That much is obvious.]

Not that it matters. Think you can impress me? [He lets the mace withdraw back into his wrist, curious what weapon she'll use when she enters.]

No, I'm not.

[She can't help the faint, static huff, but otherwise she just shakes her helm, expression flat. It's getting slightly annoying how many assume her to be this Arcee.]

Wasn't going for impressing you, but I did have a good teacher, so who knows...

[When Elita wanders further into the arena, however, no weapon gets drawn at all. She could of course take out the EMP scrambler, but that's not a melee weapon.]

Maybe surprise at least?

[She grins slightly as her stance shifts, back-mounted panels flexing and spreading to even out the weight while she takes a few sideways steps to get a better feel for the substrate and then pauses.]

You're free to take that mace out again, or we both do this bare handed.

You're willing to fight. That is impressive enough, for now.

[It was what he wanted. Fighting, from now until he was literally too exhausted to continue. To feel alive again.]

I have other weapons at my disposal. [His cannon, for instance, is still attached...but he doesn't have much reason to use it in an Arena fight. Not one on one. That isn't flashy enough. His sword, however...]

Do you?

I admit to being curious, so given that we're not out after deactivating each other, I thought it might be interesting.

[Briefly, she stands still, and then starts to slowly move. Sideways, not closer for now.]

A ranged weapon. [She's not going to be overly forth-coming here. Then she briefly grins.]

Martial arts. My body is my weapon.

[Even if her chosen style mainly is Circuit-Su, but she's good with it. And she does know something of others as well.]

No, there will be no deactivations. [Not today, at least.]

But you don't have to worry--this is only for backup. [He runs a hand over his cannon, having it with him just in case any of the challengers decided to take matters into their own hands. And speaking of hands...]

I accept. [Hands only it will be. He wastes no time, then, in attacking, beginning immediately with a crouch and sweeping out a leg toward her.]

[Good enough for her.]

Backup you hopefully won't need to use, hm?

[Another dry smile which only changes to a look of concentration as Megatron lashes out, and while the kick hits, Elita is already moving with the motion of his leg.

It's still enough to rattle plating, but not more than that as the glancing hit as well as her own momentum takes her past his side, striking out at his elbow at the same time.]

Hopefully not. I am not so foolish as to believe there aren't mechs who would be happy to delete me from the record, however.

[He'd spoken with some recently, in fact.]

You don't strike me as the type.

[Her strike, itself, however, is certainly effective, especially as it uses the momentum he gave her as a tool. It's too fast to avoid but he can shift slightly, letting it impact just above his elbow instead as he draws his leg back to him. She knew how to hit, that much was apparent from the ringing clang, and she was precise enough to cause reasonable damage if she got into his joints.

Better to not let her do so, then.

He twists the arm she hit up, attempting to grab her wrist.]

Given that you currently aren't doing anything I haven't put myself into, not really, no.

[Especially as this wasn't (supposed to be) a real, antagonistic, possible life-or-death fight.

Optics narrowing in brief realisation, Elita knows she can't draw her arm back far enough... So instead, as she continues past him, despite all the possible things he could do with that, she just shifts enough to manage to twine their hands together, attempting to use that leverage, her speed and his own weight, to pull him with her.]

Edited 2012-12-02 00:00 (UTC)

Ah, but have you ever considered that killing me would bring an end to at least one war?

[He's surprised when his fingers grasp other fingers, but not unpleasantly so. If it's a fight of straight strength to straight strength--he will win it.
Momentum itself, however, is not something that he can fight against, and he's forced to shift his footing to avoid being pushed. On the one hand, this makes him less stable. On the other...he can twist the hand he's got of hers as he shifts.]

[Twist, and, if he starts to squeeze, he'll have enough strength to do some serious damage, even if her plating isn't necessarily fragile merely because it's not as thick as some others.

Any wince is hidden as she lets her hand be twisted - she can still feel cables stretching towards their limit and plating threatening to buckle, but she just needs to be quick. And if it's one thing Elita is, it's fast, and with her more slender hands, fuelled more by precision than unnecessary strength, she goes for one of those would-be-protected points in Megatron's side.

Would be protected, if her hands were larger. Which they aren't.]

We've got no proof our presence here have any bearing on our homes, and here, we come back alive.

[Meaning, why unnecessarily hurt of even murder?]

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