stabbywheelfeet: (Why Sideswipe is not the medic.)
Sideswipe ([personal profile] stabbywheelfeet) wrote in [community profile] re_alignment_logs2014-02-20 09:42 pm

quicksilver - quicksilver

WHO: Sideswipe & OPEN
WHERE: The Junk Pile || OR || Around Vector's Temple
WHEN:  RIGHT NOW (2/20) 
WHAT: Training. Keeping in shape. AKA: Sideswipe is restless after recovering, and needs to move, or else bother Mirage forever.
WARNINGS: None.
Note: Two options for interaction! Note which one you'd like in the subject!

[A - Vector's Area]
[There is a sportscar tearing around the temple grounds. Faster than probably necessary. Louder than probably necessary, too. But he finally felt himself again. He finally felt up to moving about. And it was either this, or pester Mirage into wrestling with him.]

[He has a feeling that would do more harm than good, at this point. Things between them are awkward enough without him leaping on the red bot. So here he was -- driving around, stretching both his wheels, and, as he hits a corner hard, his legs. He slides into the transformation, turning the drive into a long-legged sprint.]

[It feels good to run. He feels better than he has in a long time, getting out and moving like this.]

[Do you approach or try to catch the speeding silver blur?]


~ ~ ~

[B - Junk Pile]
[And later, he takes his run out to the junk. There's no real place for him to practice his blade work, aside from this nasty place, and even after his run, there's still too much pent-up energy for him to go back to their room now.]

[There are a few large pieces of rubble standing upright as he pulls in. His headlights flicker for a moment, before he suddenly slams on the accelerator, and charges the nearest pillar. At the very last second, he transforms, sweeping a blade low, before yanking his arm up in a sudden, quick slice.]

[It carves a deep line across the pillar.]

[He swings around on one foot, coming back down in a stabbing lunge that leaves a hole straight through the pillar. But he doesn't stop there.]

[It's like some kind of madcap ballet, the way he spins and slices, kicks and stabs the imaginary enemies. Nothing is on his mind, for once, but the thrill of the fight. The excitement and energy from defeating your enemy, no matter if they were just practice or not. Where he is doesn't matter, the conflict between himself and his closest friend here doesn't matter.]

[There's only the fight. And he is utterly focused on it.]

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