Fighting helps lower stress...no really.
It does.
*Picking up where "Pet the Kitty" PRP with Pluto left off*
Quick was out the tower, in his full armor and at the location of his personal Sniper unit. Oh...hell. NO. It was a ragtag bunch of rebels who survived the damn fight. The orange master snarled as he let his Bommerang spring out from...whereever it was he kept the damn thing. Seriously.
How the hell did he store that thing? The remaining...yes. Sparks be damned.
Remaining. Snipers looked up like kids about to be scolded by their Father.
"Ha. So, you rats think your bad by taking out a few Droid Snipers? Think again. These guys are mass produced." the orange master said heartlessly. Very few Snipers were one of a kind. Quick scanned the survivors for the one Sniper who seemed to go beyond their programming. A Sniper that Quick had taken to calling Jack. Quick let out a small breath as he saw Jack, shift to a sitting position. Jack was the only Sniper who Quick etched a smaller likeness of his own boomerang. Albeit it was on the very
back of the Snipers helmet...and well...Quick always snickered at it.
The orange bot looked back as one of the bigger,
why the hell were the big ones always the ones in charge with Rebels? , Rebels strutted forward. The male pointed at the orange bot,
"You and your scrap metal----" well....
Quick did let him
start talking...finishing the taunt...not really. The overgrown idiot went flying back as the Master crouched there with steel blue eyes, his boomerang caught the dying sunlight and glinted for a mere moment. The master stayed crouched as he growled,
"Anyone else?"The other rebels balked for only a moment as they saw the barest hint of red slide its way down the goldenrod weapon. Quick straighten, his steel eyes flickering about. He then was able to take in the full scene around him. A few bodies laid strewn about the sidelines. Looked like his Snipers started it...the blood was dried on some of the fallen Rebels. The first casualties. The orange master huffed. Weaklings.
He then took note that of his usual, 15 Sniper Unit...he had a mere 7 remaining. What. The. Hell. How the sparks did those Rebel bastards take out 8---he turned at the sound of a click and launched himself backwards as a spike..
.WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?!? Orb embedded itself where he had been standing mere moments ago. The Rebel, who Quick mentally noted was also bigger than the one he had just cut down, who stepped out hefted the large...spiked orb. A, no pun intended, quick scan of his internal weapon files named that
thing as a Morning Star. Whelp. That explains why he barely registered the 8 missing Snipers. Something like that would of very well made them scrap metal. Quick glanced back to the 7 Snipers;
"Stay there. I don't want the Doc to get prissy at me about losing anymore of you metal heads."The Snipers knew that the master cared...at least. That's what they were hoping. Quick wasn't exactly the friendliest of the masters towards his Unit...but he wasn't downright cruel either. Quick twirled his Boomerang,
"I'll take care of Frankenstein.""Frankenstein" talked,
"Ha. If anyone's a monster here its you. You metal brained---" again...Quick at least let him start off the taunt. Finishing it would be a miracle. The orange bot's foot landed squarely on the Rebel's head. Quick's smug smirk turned to surprise as the large male swung his weapon. The orange master barely dodged it as he back flipped, using the Rebel's head as a springboard. Quick snarled, a metallic bone chilling sound as he landed and looked at his boot. The damn weapon scratched his boot. A small trickle of fear slipped down his spine as he saw the barest glint of his circuits underneath.
Quick's eyes were cold. Oh. It. Was.
On.
The Rebel swung his weapon, blinking in subtle shock as suddenly the orange master was literally on the handle right inbetween his grips. Quick's eyes were pure blue metal as he launched off the weapon in the wake of the momentum. Landed with a small indent on a nearby wall. Quick looked up and sprang back. The Rebel barely had time to regain his weapon before he felt the robot's boomerang slash into his back. Letting out a howl of pain, Quick was rewarded with a elbow to his chest.
s**t. Should of moved...he skidded back and was satisfied as the Rebel hissed as the pain;
"Forget I don't squish like you flesh bags do. It takes a little more than that to hurt me." ...though if that weapon of yours lands. I might be in trouble... Quick tacked on mentally. The orange master glanced to the Rebels hiding. Frigging Cowards. most likely they would run the moment Frankenstein, as officially named by Quick, fell in combat. Quick was going to end this now....
The orange male shot forward ignoring the morning star as it came down. Swinging his boomerang at the same time Frankenstein slammed his weapon down. It was a tense second for both sides. But....
Quick's goldenrod weapon glittered as it stuck out from the Rebel's back. Quick felt the Rebel's hand on his shoulder. Looking up the bot was sorta shocked. Frankenstein had a rueful smile;
"Good fight. Robot." Quick didn't flinch at the blood which splashed his cheek when the male gave a small cough before slipping down to crumble at his feet. It was a whole minute before Quick's own neutral expression to twist into pain. He let out a metallic howl as two of the remaining Snipers darted forward. The hidden Rebels took off the moment Frankenstein fell.
The top of Quick's tail was crushed under the Morning Star. The orange master crumbled into his lead Sniper, Jack. The Sniper giving order to the other 6 before looping one of Quick's arms around his neck and helping the Master back to the Tower. Quick muttered,
"Jack" only replied with a intoned, "Good thing you can always just tell him that you have a higher floor."
Quick could only give a hallow chuckle...a sharp low growl as his tail twitched...he was surprised that it hadn't gone dead. The small group made it back to the Tower.
