Blast Off vs Khamsin

Log Title: Blast Off vs Khamsin Characters:  Khamsin, Blast Off, Goth, Demonhead Location: Valvolux Arena Date: 1/19/2020 TP: None-TP Summary: Blast Off challenges Khamsin to a fight, in what is the whiffest whiff-fest that ever whiffed. As logged by: Goth

Valvolux Arena - Valvolux - Northeastern Cybertron
Khamsin is out for a stroll, one which has brought him to the Arena in Valvolux no less, primarily as he sort of just wanders about and studies the surrounding activity. It's not the most flashy of things by any means, and really he's more keen on studying than actually seeking out things to engage in actively, but...hey, nothing wrong with that, right?

Goth is quietly walking a long side him, cloaked as to not draw too much suspicion of the con-walking with the neutral, he'd been talking over his old radio frequency as well, knowing full well no one would be able to over hear it, give how old it was. "<>" He'd ask Khamsin. He'd hem. "<< I think Knightmare is typically around here... If i recall the broadcast not long ago.>>"

GAME: Blast Off PASSES a FIREPOWER roll of Average difficulty.

It just so happens that Khamsin and Goth will spot Blast Off IN the Arena, set up on a range with his trusty ionic blaster in hand. (Small world, ain't it?) The shuttleformer studies his target carefully, drawing in a vent of air, exhaling slowly, and then gently squeezing the trigger. His aim is true and the blast lands dead center. He looks rather satisfied as he sits up straight again.

Khamsin doesn't respond straight-away, drawing to a stop as he watches Blast Off's downrange practice. <> He vents softly, clasping his arms casually behind his back as he watches the range exercise going on not too far away. << I suppose we'll just see how things go...>>

Goth would come to a stop, and sat beside KHam, his cloak still in place as he also watched Blast Off below. "<>" He'd muse, tapping his chin.

Oh, the tales Blast Off could tell if he were privy to their conversation, having been awake one moment then spark-extracted the next, waking up to a Cybertron millions of years later. Alas, he is not, and perhaps just as well anyway. However, he *does* notice Khamsin now, his optics widening, then narrowing as he sets back in his seat to study the mech, grip tightening around his weapon- though it remains pointed downrange. "...You certainly get around, don't you?"

There's a soft chuckle from the jackal-esque mech and it's followed by a light nod. "I'm ever a vagrant, and getting around is something we vagrants do remarkably well. That and it's difficult to learn if you keep to yourself in some hole somewhere." He glances towards the sniper's target. "I used to know a marksman who would decompress by pushing their abilities to the limit... something about a sense of catharsis and clarity of thought coming to them during their time preparing for a shot... thinking of anything interesting?"

Goth smiled at Khamsin from his spot in the shadows and remained quite, not wanting to give his presence away just yet, as he listened to the two speak, his ears swiveling forward as he tilted his helm.

Demonhead soon enters the arena as well, looking around and spreading his arms as he takes in the atmosphere. "Empty an' dead, just like how I like my Autobots." he says with a chuckle, then glances toward Blast Off and his conversation with Khamsin. "'Ey! Anything fun goin' on 'round 'ere?"

Blast Off settles back even further, draping a heavily shielded arm over the back of his chair- though he keeps both rocket feet firmly on the ground, ready for movement in an instant. "Certainly is one way to do it. As for me, well, honestly? I am thinking what would happen should I turn this gun around and point it at *you*." He tilts his head, still regarding him with mild suspicion, though it's not as intense as it was before. "How would you react? If I fired, would you dodge, deflect, pull out your own weaponry?" He chuckle-huffs softly to himself, "Whimper and cry?" There seems to be slightly cocky grin underneath that mask he wears. "You act so composed, like you are so confident... I wonder if it warranted?"

Then Demonhead enters and he pauses to eye this newcomer. "And who are YOU?" He never does sound very pleased to meet most people.

Khamsin considers Blast Off's musings... "That would really all depend on if you pulled the trigger or not, and if I were quick enough, or...perhaps if there were some sense of...all in jest or following execution orders from Megatron... so many unknown variables, really, I couldn't say what I'd actually do." He gives a chuckle. "As for my composure...it's an acquired trait born of patience and intrigue." He glances lightly towards Demonhead, an ear turning lightly to just sort of study the newcomer for a bit... "I'd wager, Blast Off, he is a Decepticon like yourself. At least, the statements made so far indicate as much..."

Goth glances to the side from his cloaked position and rolled his optics. "<>" He'd huff into his old radio.

"Demonhead's the name, killin' worthless 'bots is the game. I'd ask who the hell *you* is, but honsetly I couldn't give less of a scrap." the Devilcon responds to Blast Off's question, dismissively waving a claw at him. "I asked ya a question though. You guys gonna rip each oddah to shreds or what?"

The smug look is still there, an undercurrent in the arrogant shuttle's ever-present demeanor. Blast Off *heh*s at what Khamsin says, eying him still. "Well, rest assured, if I had orders from Megatron we would *not* be here, having this polite conversation. No, merely curious if you're half as good as you *seem* to think you are. As a Combaticon, I like the see everyone's... mettle, I suppose you could say." He turns to look at Demonhead, arching an optic ridge and gazing flatly at the mech. "...." Then he shakes his head, "You sound like *Brawl*..." The sniper pinches at the bridge of his nose, rubbing there like he has a cerebro-cortex-ache coming, but then drops his big black hand to pat his ionic weapon again. "Well, I am Blast Off, and *perhaps* we will. Rip each other to shreds. What do you say, Khamsin? Or are you afraid to meet me head to head in battle?"

Goth squints from his location. "<< I might have to smite that one.>>" he mutters in response to Demonhead insinuating Khamsin was worthless... He does tense at the thought of Blast Off and Khamsin fighting to the death though, it causes a look of stress that he could thankfully show without anyone noticing.. He'd shift uncomfortably, and not verbalize such fear.

Khamsin gives a light exhale as he thinks a moment, listening to Goth's remarks, and then steps his way down towards the arena floor proper. "I suppose I could stand to knock the dust off my joints... it's been a fair while since I actually had to take to combat... words tend to be my weapon of choice, after all. We'll see how much I remember." He draws his blades and gives them both a light, deft swing. <> he tightbeams over to Goth. The Neutral gives Demonhead a casual, passing glance before he shrugs. "No mindless bloodshed here, though, if you please... I may be mistaken, but I'd think that the resident governing heads would frown upon outright murder..." He settles into a rather relaxed stance, exhaling softly and bringing one blade up to a proper guard while the other is held back, ready to strike. "Right...make ready, then."

Blast Off grins beneath his faceplate as Khamsin accepts, picking up his ionic blaster and following him deeper into the arena. The Combaticon takes up a place opposite of Khamsin, legs apart, braced, ionic blaster in hand. "Ah, as I said before, I am a civilized mech. No point in battling to the death here... that's best left for an actual battlefield, no?" He eyes Demonhead, then looks back to Khamsin. "No, I'd say... a fight until one cannot get up again- or yields. All alts and weapons allowed. Does that sound acceptable?"

Goth tenses as he watches Khamsin go down, watching the two, he needs to reminds himself that Khamsin is no longer as squishy as he remembered, and much more capable of defending himself now.. So perhaps seeing this will help squash that old habit. "<< I shall.>>" He tigthbeams to Khamsin, waiting a few minutes, and once he's sure Blast Off isn't looking anymore, Goth would drop his cloaking, he would appear in a melting of black pixels, glowing an eerie red. He was now standing completely upright on his hind legs, winged arms folded behind him, the big, old bat, having his usual stoic look painted on his face. "Seems I'll have my work cut out for me." He'd chuff, giving Demonhead a nod of Acknowledgment, as he moved to the arena railings, he knows who he's rooting for, regardless of outcome.

"I'd rather there be no need for battlefields on Cybertron... save the energy for defending our home." Khamsin gives a light nod. "And...yes, all weaponry... just try not to bring the arena down with an orbital bombardment, hmm? I doubt we've sufficient room and fire suppression systems in here to handle that much of an explosive shot." There's a light grin. After all, he /did/ say...make ready. So, Blast Off had his chance, and there's a quick and rather explosive spring into action from Khamsin, working to close the gap between the ranged fighter and his own close-quarters blades, swinging low to cut at the Combaticon's feet to, quite literally, try and keep him grounded.

'>> Khamsin misses Blast Off with Trap. <<'

Demonhead shrugs and heads up into the stands to watch the fight unfold. "Least this place is gettin' some use still."

Well then! Khamsin immediately tries for the up-close-and-personal action, which is exactly the sort of thing Blast Off does NOT want! The Combaticon is ready for him, though, his braced stance quickly launching him off to the side, evading the strike. *huff* "Not bad, but... not good enough!" the big shuttleformer retorts after rolling once and springing up to aim his ionic blaster at the other mech before sprinting back some. He's not too ruffled yet... he'll even stay on the ground. For now. But there's no way he'll willingly let Khamsin get close enough for a blow. Hopefully his gunfire will also keep the other mech back and off balance.

'>> Blast Off misses Khamsin with Ionic-Blaster . <<'

GAME: Goth PASSES a LEADERSHIP roll of High difficulty.

Goth blinks, he's able to hide it well, but he's honestly surprised by Khamsin's speed, impressed even. He watches with intrigue, hiding a flinch as Blast Off fires, but again, Khamsin's speed gives him pause... He'd glance back to Demon head then to the group below. "Impressive.." he says to no one in particular.

Khamsin barely pays the fact he missed any mind, instantly going on the defensive and juking a bit to let the follow-up shot fly by him. And then it's time to transform. There's a flurry of motion and suddenly, there's a very big canine looking mech, moreso than Kham was prior, lunging forward on all fours to keep pressing and soaking up that safe gap Blast Off keeps trying to maintain, quite literally going for the throat.

With a swift, yet silent, flurry of motion, Khamsin transforms into a sleek Jackal.

'>> Khamsin strikes Blast Off with Bite. <<'

Ooops. The sniper is still pretty confident in all this... until Khamsin suddenly transforms. This is new, and the jackal bridges that all-important gap far more quickly than Blast Off would like. He scrambles back, but his rocket foot catches in his sudden haste to get away, and suddenly there's a beast at his throat. Blast Off is still somewhat bigger than the jackal, but the jackal is big enough, and those teeth sharp enough, that the impact knocks him backwards. "Gaahhrgh!" Now he's not playing around. He wants *away*, clawing at the beast's jaws and trying to push them away and wriggle free as those teeth slash at his throat, his optics pale. He keeps his head (for now), though it takes him a moment to collect himself, at which point he swings a kick at Khamsin, trying to kick him off of him so he can gain that oh-so-important space again.

'>> Blast Off misses Khamsin with Kick. <<'

GAME: Goth FAILS a LEADERSHIP roll of High difficulty.

Goth raises a ridge at that, watching as he moved, a grin unconsciously finding itself onto Goth's face, his shoulders also relaxing as be brought his hands forward. Part of him wonders if this was something Khamsin had picked up form Goth's past fighting style, but logic told him no, no he probably had quite the time to base it off watching actual Jackals from his time on earth.

Panic. Instil panic whilst remaining calm. That is, usually, a sound way to gain the upper hand in any combat situation, and something that comes all to easily when one underestimates a situation... And one thing Khamsin knows well are the Combaticons. At least...from back in the day. But some things don't change much with age. *coughcough* Not holding on for longer than is needed to really upset the Shuttleformer, Khamsin releases and rolls away from the flailing kick sent his way, transforming again and carving a swift arc backwards with one of those polished blades to further press the momentum swung in his favor, all the while looking...perhaps almost disquietingly calm insofar as his expression goes. What was that Blast Off had said earlier? Composed....

With a swift, yet silent flurry of motion, Khamsin transforms to his Cybertronian form.

'>> Khamsin misses Blast Off with Blade. <<'

Blast Off, underestimate something because he's being arrogant? NAAHHH, not HIM! *cough* >_> The shuttleformer is starting to do just that- panic- when Khamsin rolls away. There's a few sharp, fast vents as he works to smooth his ruffled feathers, as it were, scrambling back up just as Khamsin lunges in with a blade. #NOPE! He's had enough of this, again rolling to the side, metal clanging against the floor as he avoids that attack with a practiced sequence of dodges... Combaticons will be Combaticons, indeed, but they certainly always strive to stay in practice, skills honed. The big shuttleformer pushes himself up now and immediately launches into the safety of the air, rocketing upwards. Space, blessed space! The lasers on his wings hum to life as the space shuttle arcs, one wing dipping down as he rolls and comes back 'round again, letting loose laserfire at the groundpounder.

Blast Off falls vertically, his arms folding over his head. His legs join together, his wings come forward and Blast Off becomes a shuttle.

'>> Blast Off strikes Khamsin with Laser . <<'

GAME: Goth FAILS a LEADERSHIP roll of Very High difficulty.

Goth is grinding up till when Khamsin misses, and pays for it, he flinches seeing the damage the Anuben beast-mech takes, and knits his ridges.. Silently he does bring up the twos medical readouts on his scouter, mainly keeping an eye on Khamsin's.

Khamsin is caught thinking, really, as Blast Off takes to the skies, and it's enough to slow him down just enough that the shots fired hit home. Does it hurt? Yes. Does it slow him down? Not so much. As the blast dissipates, there's again that altmode taking to the ground, though this time instead of teeth, there's a curious apparatus rolling out that almost looks like a cannon with a few other additions, and what's fired towards the shuttlecraft is less a bullet and more a blast of high-frequency sound. Apologies to Goth's ears on that one...

With a swift, yet silent, flurry of motion, Khamsin transforms into a sleek Jackal.

'>> Khamsin misses Blast Off with Sonic Blast . <<'

Blast Off does not know what that strange cannon-like weapon Khamsin pulled out is, nor does he stick around to find out. Now up in the air, in his element, the shuttle deftly dodges the blast, his fusleage rattled by the burst of sound but not battered. Heh. Now his confidence is returning. He's up in the air lording it over everyone, as *things should be*. He does a roll just to show Khamsin and everyone else watching how *unaffected* he is, then circles back for another volley. "<< I do hope you have more tricks up your sleeve than simply slashing teeth and sticks that go *boom*....~>>" Even as he taunts, he sends a short burst of his own from his nosecone- but this is an X-ray laser, not a sonic boom.

'>> Blast Off strikes Khamsin with X-Ray-Laser . <<'

Goth very much flinches at the sound, and covers his audials, even if he wasn't hit, the sound was still painful to the big-eared bat! He'd have to take a moment to shake it off, knitting his ridges at the /serious/ wound that is dealt, and his lip physically twitches back, he is now very worried.

Khamsin gets hit again...and this is probably not a good thing...hrm. Primarily because this battle of up-in-the-air things versus an 'I walk on my feet' thing is...not good. Not good at all. At least until he transforms again and there's the telltale puff of...rocketboots? ...no, not quite...but yes, there's suddenly a mech, again closing distance. "Versatility is always a must, adaptability is crucial..." He does, at the very least, give it a good push to swing a hearty looking haymaker at the other mech.

With a swift, yet silent flurry of motion, Khamsin transforms to his Cybertronian form.

'>> Khamsin misses Blast Off with Sickle-Sword. <<'

And here comes Khamsin's answer! "<< I'll give you this much... you're inventive. Adaptable, yes. >>" The Combaticon comments as he watches his opponent rise up in the air to meet him. "<< But still... not *quite* on my level... not up here. >>" The shuttle's thrusters rev suddenly, sending a wave of ice-cold plasma behind him as Blast Off suddenly rockets forward, evading yet another attack while launching one of his own. "<< Don't feel too bad, though, few match me in the air. >>"

'>> Blast Off misses Khamsin with Plasma . <<'

Goth blinks, Has Khamsin always had those rockets? That's the first time he's ever seen his mate in the air, that and it was sort of embarrassing that Goth couldn't fly in his own root mode... He'd shake his helm out of the thoughts, continuing to watch the battle, his ears falling back. There is a slight relief as Blast Off misses.

Khamsin hmphs and shuts off the thrusters long enough to drop, letting gravity help with avoiding that particular blast... though, it also helps that the shuttle advertised so openly just what was coming. <> Speaking of, he takes a moment to aim...and heaves one of those khopesh blades right towards the shuttle's exposed engines. Because, well, again, when a target is presented...you may as well try to ram something up it's aft.

'>> Khamsin misses Blast Off with Trap. <<'

HOW UNCOUTH!! Blast Off isn't having any of that, thank you very much! Do you know how *embarrassing* that particular injury can be? Especially once Vortex finds out. With a sudden grumble of engines, the Combaticon dives down, lifts up, elevons shifting, and seems to consider something. "<< Hmm. >>" Then the shuttle dives down once more, this time transforming to land in a continuous rolling motion, pulling his ionic blaster in one graceful motion and aiming it at Khamsin as he rights himself again. "Well, I wouldn't want you to think you lost because I'm being *unfair~*...." Pew pew!! Here Khamsin, here's your shot... he's still big but he's in root mode- and he is still determined to win!

The shuttle uprights as the wings and stabilizer fin fall away and the engine cylinders fall forward. The top half of the shuttle breaks apart to reveal Blast Off.

'>> Blast Off strikes Khamsin with Ionic-Blaster . <<'

GAME: Goth FAILS a LEADERSHIP roll of Very High difficulty.

Goth flinches at the shot, and Khamsin's vitals, on one hand, Khamsin is putting up a very good fight, despite all of Blast Off's taunting, on the other, he doesn't like the idea of Khamsin being full of holes, and take a vent trying to calm himself down, he folds his hands behind him and glances to the side having to hold his voice back to keep others from catching on, but he does whispers out. "Puedes hacerlo, Arenoso."

Khamsin is, first and foremost, a bit put out that he missed, but also not a flier. Again. And one dodge was luck... and that can indeed run out. He gets hit. Hard. And much like Blast Off, falls from the sky. Though he's not...out, not by far...even if he is looking rough. But the opportunity was offered, so he makes sure to at least take the Combaticon up on it, and slashes out with a hearty cross-cut towards Blast Off's chassis. <>

'>> Khamsin strikes Blast Off with Khopesh. <<'

"Yes, it would seem so-Owww!" Blast Off is backing up, but not quickly enough as Khamsin comes sailing in fast and this time strikes home, slashing a few good fuel lines and sending energon spurting. He grunts with some pain, clutching at his chest, the slash right along the three vents there in the center, and he seems more put out that it might ruin the look than anything else. He's losing energon, though, and that's not good. With a *huff* he looks up... though he then seems to smirk slightly under the faceplate, Khamsin's earlier even-slight grumpiness not lost on him. That, at least, made this worth it. No time to gloat, though, even for him, Onslaught taught him better than that. With Khamsin still close, he springs forward, using more of that Combaticon training for something up close, even if it's not preferred. He aims to dodge in after the weapon strike and swings a punch at the smaller mech to try and dislodge Khamsin's weapon- maybe dislocate the shoulder that wields it, too.

'>> Blast Off strikes Khamsin with Bash. <<'

Goth's ears point forward as he see's Khamsin finally land a help, and he accidentally lets out a excited squeak! but quickly tries to brush it off as nothing. He'd cringe at Blast Off's punch, and what it does to Khamsin's vitals, making Goth sweat internally. "<>" He whispers over his radio.

Khamsin has two blades, and while Blast Off is able to slap one hand aside, he's all too fine rolling with the hit and swatting with the flat of the other, wincing a bit. Certainly it's not a solid blow by any means, but it's on a spot that took a rather unpleasant blast from one of the Combaticon's earlier strikes...and in an uncharacteristic way, almost seems to be panting softly from the damage he's taken on. Though, that's about the only thing that is otherwise breaking his composure.

'>> Khamsin misses Blast Off with Bash. <<'

Blast Off is well trained, indeed, living up to his Combaticon status as he lands a strike and deftly evades his oppenents once more, twirling around and lunging back to gain that precious space he so desires. The shuttleformer lets out a few more vents himself, eying the jackal-mech, debating his next move as he wipes away more energon, purple streaking on purple on his chest. There's a squeak somewhere in the crowd, and it's here Blast Off notices Goth for the first time, though he doesn't have the luxury of saying hello- even if he wanted to. The sniper decides on more tried-and-true methods than attempting anything more up-close, suddenly rocketing upwards inot the air via the thrusters making up his feet, showering down ionic blasts to his opponent below. "Just let me know when you want to yield, Khamsin..."

'>> Blast Off misses Khamsin with Ionic-Blaster . <<'

Hopefully no one heard that, least Goth hopes. His ears pick up on that panting, and frowns. "<> Goth asks in concern, still he looks readyo head down to help these two in the medical bay, he has his wrapped firmly around the railing separating the wrena from the crowd seating... There's a momentary pause. "<<...You are hoping up very well, all things considered, so, color me impressed.>>" He'd' say, trying to cheer his mate on, even in secret.

Well, Goth's distraction is enough to give him some breathing room at least, and he moves to push Blast Off's barrel up and in a direction that is pointedly not his face. "Yield? Not yet... not close." His shoulder that was bruised up earlier is a bit...well, it hurts, and he foregoes his blade in that particular hand, pulling a ceremonial looking dagger from a hidden compartment on his belt and makes to stab at the Combaticon. "Besides...I'm having some fun... like I said, it's been a fair while." He does indeed hear Goth, but at the moment, his focus is on the fight, and there's no ready response on his end...save maybe a slight smile. Though, in Blast Off's eyes, that could just be from his remark about having fun.

'>> Khamsin strikes Blast Off with Knife. <<'

Seems Goth provides enough distraction that suddenly Khamsin is up-close-and-personal... yeah, that thing Blast Off most definitely does NOT like. He turns to look down at his opponent just as the flash of a knife slices into him, sending him jerking back with a grunt. Still, he isn't about to yield, either... even if he IS going to try and gain space, spinning with a sudden kick towards Khamsin's side to try and knock him away. "Indeed... all work and no play..."

'>> Blast Off strikes Khamsin with Kick. <<'

Thats right, Goth could cheer from his radio, a smile on his face as he's reminded of it, he just can't be too distracting... He'd flinch at that kick, looking at the twos medical readouts... If Khamsin could maybe hold out, dodging a hit or two, and landing a a heavy blow or two, it would be enough for him to turn it around on Blast Off, it was indeed going to be close, he could only pray is normal cursed presence is enough to not cancel out Khamsin getting a lucky shot.

Let the slapfight begin! Kham gets kicked, his blade dislodging as he falls back and works on getting his feet under him again. Taking stock, he grunts. A knife in one hand...a khopesh in the other. Right... He clears his throat and steps forward to take another healthy swing. "This was play, though... proper martial skill was required and expected of the old Kings and their Court." Khamsin offers back. "After this...a proper drink?"

'>> Khamsin misses Blast Off with Sickle-Sword. <<'

Blast Off connects with the kick, gaining the space he needs even if his physical attacks aren't anything to write to base about. It enables him to dodge Khamsin's ensuing sword strike, too, rocketing back mid-air with a confident *huff*! "Oh, very much so... if I was fighting to destroy, you'd have had a taste of my orbital strike by now. I'm sure you'd find it... rather memorable." He presses his hand on the wound on his chest and *heh*s as he hovers, rocket feet blazing. "....I'd say... yes. A drink might be in order, after this." He gives Khamsin a nod, then his gaze shifts down, intense once more. "But first... I aim to end this thing. I'll try not to injure your other arm, however... you'll need it to lift your drinks, right?" The Combaticon suddenly whips his ionic blaster up for another shot, dead-on. But not at the good arm!

'>> Blast Off misses Khamsin with Ionic-Blaster <Medium>. <<'

GAME: Goth FAILS a LEADERSHIP roll of Very High difficulty.

"HAH!" Goth shouts as Khamsin is able to get out of Blast Off's line of fire. Goth does quickly catch himself though and tries to regain his composure. "Puedes hacer esto arenoso." He'd mumble, patting his fur down with a smile.

Khamsin pulls a Blast Off and huffs a bit as the Ionic Blaster comes out to play again, stepping in quick to get out of the firing arc. Sure, he might not specialize in ranged combat, but at least he seems to know how to get around it all. ...for the most part. And then it's time to grapple, and Kham makes a quick run to tackle the hovering mech out of the air and get him a bit bound up in a hold. Try being the operative word. At this rateit's likely he'll just end up superman-flying right on by because that's just how this has been going.

'>> Khamsin misses Blast Off with Trap. <<'

Blast Off glances over at Goth at that outburst, but this time doesn't let it distract him from Khamsin's upcoming supermasn launch and-yep, it plays out about like Khamsin expected, the shuttleformer just #NOPING right outta there. He rockets up, then violet optics narrow and he, in a VERY sporting mood (maybe it was the mention of drinks), decides to suddenly reverse trajectory and tries to slam right into the mech, seeing if his size can give him a edge-the hurting kind. You want up close and personal? Blast Off will give it to you! Enjoy that while you get it, he's not usually so... um, generous.

'>> Blast Off misses Khamsin with Bash. <<'

Goth's is now watching intensely as the two keep whiffing it, but that also means Khamsin hasn't lost yet! "<<¡Vuélvete polvoriento! ¡Vamos!>>" He'd chuckle lightly into the radio.

Is it even a fight at this point? Or more just...wrestling the scenery? Speaking of, how much of the scenery hasn't been shot out yet? Kham misses, and rolls in time to see the Combaticon diving down towards him with enough time to (in true cinematic fashion) roll out of the way while grabbing his blade again and just swinging a wide haymaker of an arc to take some sort of advantage of the situation. Hopefully. Two parts stubborn... one part...well, let's just see what happens next... Though, there's also a hint of amusement as Kham actually just sort of laughs a bit at the rather...ineffectual fight that's mostly gone on.

'''>> Khamsin misses Blast Off with Sickle-Sword. <<'''

Blast Off grunts as he slams into the ground, misses the mech, but sees that blade coming and again -nope, got cut once already thanks- his way away from that mess! He leaps forward and whirls around, lifting his weaopn once more. The laugh catches him by surprise, and he pauses, blinking at Khamsin. Then, to his own surprise, he finds himself chuckle-huffing once or twice himself. The shuttleformer shakes his head, then eyes the other mech. "Quite... energetic, aren't we?" His optics dim once more as he rolls his shoulders. "Still, I do want to bring this to an end. Drinks are sounding better all the time." He lifts his weapon, the sniper eying Khamsin and waiting for his next move. "But I will not yield, you know." Shuttle pride and all. "Now... how long can you dodge... this?" Pew!

'>> Blast Off strikes Khamsin with Ionic-Blaster <Medium>. <<'

Goth flinches at the drop in Khamsin's health, and cringes. that was a bad shot alright, and his ears fall back, damn, it was so close! He'd huff out.

Khamsin was laughing...and really, the amount of effort put into his last attack was far less than Blast Off's desire to shoot...and it shows as he's hit. There's a grunt, an 'ow' and...Kham just lays there a good moment, catching his breath before slowly pushing himself up. True, he wasn't hit much, but...that was...what, three? Four? A few good shots he took, and he takes stock of things... "About the outcome I'd expected, in all fairness... I'm not a ranged combatant in the slightest..." He makes his way around the arena proper, retrieving his blades and slowly cleaning them, giving them a proper inspection, and stowing them away one by one. "Right...drinks. Give me a good moment to see if the facilities here can take care of a few things," he looks over at Blast Off, "we both should, in all fairness... and then, yes, drinks on me."

He takes a moment to glance over at Goth. eying *him* now. The sniper tenses, still at unease around the bat since he learned the Combaticon's secret. Then he lifts his chin, letting out a small huff. "Well, I see you decided to spectate, Goth, I do hope you didn't miss too much of our spar... it was certainly... energetic." He sniffs, then turns to steps towards Khamsin, rubbing at the wound in his chest. "Indeed." he lifts an optic ridge at Khamsin's offer, then nods. "That sounds..." His voice is still rather flat, but not hostile anymore. He's still got things to get used to, here." ...quite acceptible."

Goth would watch them and a smile does form on his face at them being friendly, he'd transform into his root mode, and made his way down to the arena medical bay, he had to fix his idiots after all! He'd pause hearing Blast Off's comment and looked over, the rare Goth-bot just huffs! "Oh please I've been here the whole time." Goth chuckles.

Khamsin chuckles... and leaves things as they are, not going so far as to claim a cease fire as much as just...walking away. "Mmm...acceptable. I'll take that..." He lets his shoulders slump a bit before moving towards the medbay as well. "Hmph...yes...wine sounds good, too," he mutters, more talking to himself, "I'll treat. Goth, since you're here...care to join us? Least we can do in exchange for...oh, say, some post-spar care." He smiles.

GAME: Blast Off PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Immense difficulty.

"Hmm," Blast Off responds to Goth with a murmur, lifting an optic ridge.... What, they were here together? Tsk, figures. The shuttle doesn't think anything more of it, at least for now, but it is noted. He lets Goth repair him, anyway, muttering a quiet "Thank you" as a matter of course. Then he turns, "Yes... wine would be divine."

GAME: Goth PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Very High difficulty.

"I say thats a /fine/ trade considering I'll be the one patching you hooligans up." He'd huff with a smile, his ear does twitch though, catching Blast Off's mutter and thinks. "Honestly expected to find Vortex face first on the floor, but seems not." He'd nod, instinctively tended to Khamsin's injuries first, since he was the one far worse off, turning off his pain receptors and going about carefully doing repairs, like the mech taught him. Soon Moving to Blast Off to do the same, having gotten rather quick at his Job.