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Nov. 3rd, 2014 02:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
automobile_enthusiast posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
thirdfactionThe race was over, all the opponents reeling from the unexpected triumph of the little two-wheeler. They'd dismissed her from the start, one and all-- in a pack full of muscle cars with big, powerful engines, what chance did some little sport-bike of a cyb have at taking the race?
Ah, but it was a street race, and that little sport bike was more agile on Axiom Nexus's buried byways than any of her bigger competitors. She must have had one hell of an engine under her sleek chassis, to boot, and that was why Knock Out had decided he needed to talk to her.
He'd placed in the race, well enough to make a little cash but not spectacularly, but honestly he hadn't expected much. He raced because he enjoyed it, and he was usually good enough to bring home some bonus credits; he knew he wasn't ever going to make a living off his victories. But most of the participants in these kinds of competitions were deadly serious, gambling their livelihoods on the outcomes (sometimes literally), and Knock Out was aware of a low, sullen grumbling as transformed and moved off through the press of racers and their maintenance teams. The two-wheeler was a newcomer, and veteran street-racers didn't like being thrashed by newbies, especially not when it hit their credit balances so hard.
The atmosphere down here in the makeshift "pit" at the end of the race's course felt oppressive, and Knock Out had a very real intimation that it might turn ugly. There was little of the usual jubilation and camaraderie that followed a good, challenging race. Homing on his own assigned little spot, Knock Out picked up Breakdown and-- after assuring his partner that he was fine and didn't need any immediate maintenance-- led him off in search of the two-wheeler.
Not a moment too soon, too; Knock Out's premonitions proved very abruptly true as he and Breakdown intercepted a couple of the regular crew on this circuit, moving with very real violence towards the corner where the two-wheeler had been tucked. Knock Out was only too happy to leave Breakdown to convince the pair that turning around and making themselves busy elsewhere would be in their best interests, and approached the racer alone.
She was still in her alt, a curious choice, and even more curious, still manifesting her holo-driver. Knock Out slouched against the wall and looked down at her, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "A little friendly advice, bike: you might want to collect your winnings and get out of here--"
A clang came clearly for where Breakdown was tussling with the two unhappy mechanics.
"--Before one of the gearheads does something you're going to regret."
Ah, but it was a street race, and that little sport bike was more agile on Axiom Nexus's buried byways than any of her bigger competitors. She must have had one hell of an engine under her sleek chassis, to boot, and that was why Knock Out had decided he needed to talk to her.
He'd placed in the race, well enough to make a little cash but not spectacularly, but honestly he hadn't expected much. He raced because he enjoyed it, and he was usually good enough to bring home some bonus credits; he knew he wasn't ever going to make a living off his victories. But most of the participants in these kinds of competitions were deadly serious, gambling their livelihoods on the outcomes (sometimes literally), and Knock Out was aware of a low, sullen grumbling as transformed and moved off through the press of racers and their maintenance teams. The two-wheeler was a newcomer, and veteran street-racers didn't like being thrashed by newbies, especially not when it hit their credit balances so hard.
The atmosphere down here in the makeshift "pit" at the end of the race's course felt oppressive, and Knock Out had a very real intimation that it might turn ugly. There was little of the usual jubilation and camaraderie that followed a good, challenging race. Homing on his own assigned little spot, Knock Out picked up Breakdown and-- after assuring his partner that he was fine and didn't need any immediate maintenance-- led him off in search of the two-wheeler.
Not a moment too soon, too; Knock Out's premonitions proved very abruptly true as he and Breakdown intercepted a couple of the regular crew on this circuit, moving with very real violence towards the corner where the two-wheeler had been tucked. Knock Out was only too happy to leave Breakdown to convince the pair that turning around and making themselves busy elsewhere would be in their best interests, and approached the racer alone.
She was still in her alt, a curious choice, and even more curious, still manifesting her holo-driver. Knock Out slouched against the wall and looked down at her, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "A little friendly advice, bike: you might want to collect your winnings and get out of here--"
A clang came clearly for where Breakdown was tussling with the two unhappy mechanics.
"--Before one of the gearheads does something you're going to regret."
no subject
Date: 2014-11-05 04:34 am (UTC)"...Hm. Thanks for the warning, but they try to 'make me regret it' more often than you seem to think."
The words didn't come from the motorcycle.
Leaning against the orange chassis of the bike with a sigh, the very human driver reached down, fingers trailing along a superfluous bit of plating. A click later, and a forearm-length weapon was unclasped from the side, unfolded, snapped into position, and leveled at the scuffling group.
"Hey, Big Blue! You mind ducking out of the way for a sec?"
Taking aim on the mech farthest away from the obvious friendly, the gun fired almost silently; the painful crackle when the bolt hit was anything but. Frame jolting with electric discharge, the first of her would-be attackers slowly toppled to his knees, twitching.
Robot tasers were the best.
no subject
Date: 2014-11-07 06:26 pm (UTC)"That looks like it hurts," Breakdown commented with a nasty grin at the one still standing. Suddenly not interested in harassing this particular racer anymore, the mech turned tail and fled, leaving his companion stunned in the dirt.
Breakdown made a dusting off motion with his hands and crackled his knuckles as he made his way back over to Knock Out and the stranger.
"Nice gun," he grunted. "Coulda taken them myself though."