damned_institute | Nightshift 61: Recreational Field

No one would have spotted the robotic manta ray, all sleek lines and curvature, from the field: he'd been careful enough to set himself far enough back on the roof that you'd have had to be out on the fields to spot him, even if it had meant sharing his space with slagging pigeons. But he'd have waited there for stellar cycles just to feel his scanners flare, and to hear his sensors give the signal he lived for:

Protoform X detected.

And there he was, just waiting to be ambushed. A little smaller than he'd expected, but it had been a while, and now was no time to hesitate. He could see the Predacon preparing to leap up to grab the wall and escape, but, oh no. He wasn't going anywhere this time.

Activating his jets, Depth Charge took off of the tiles and swooped into the field with a growl of, "Depth Charge, maximise!" and the whir and clang of shifting parts.

The sheer weight of his body, nearly twice the height of the Pred in front of him, sent shockwaves through the earth. His eyes gleamed a searing red in the dark as he reached for his gun.

"Go on. Move. Make my day, X!"

Had the one defending the field been more human, Kurogane would have sensed him, or rather his intentions. His luck, however, had him crossing a robot of all things. Kurogane wasn't as familiar with such things, but he at least knew they favored ranged weapons. He'd seen enough from Chise and his travels.

Hand withdrawing from the wall, he put his own red glare back to the... thing, observing a moment before asking, "And what are you supposed to be?"

The guy didn't look like a patient, but again Kurogane had seen that patients could look differently if brainwashed at night. This thing though looked to be more of a monster than a patient, barring the language. Once he figured it out, he could determine his next move. He wasn't against laying out another patient at night, but he'd rather hurt something that chose to work for that damned head doctor.

Track This
A wise-cracker, as always. That wasn't going to be tolerated, not tonight.

Depth Charge narrowed his optics, unholstering his gun from between his back fins with a soft, menacing click. "Never were too smart, were you, Crabcakes?" he growled back, voice low and soft, like a tiger crouched low in the long-grass. "Shoulda figured you wouldn't recognise me."

He swung the gun aloft, pointing its glinting body directly at the figure in front of him. The length of the barrel alone was probably at least half its height. "You got five nanokliks to haul your sorry bumper back into that building before I blow your processing core all the way into the next galaxy. You got that?"

Not that he needed a real reason to do just that. His trigger finger was itching like the Pit and X made for the most satisfying target practise he could imagine. Truthfully, Depth Charge was a little hazy on why he couldn't just do it now, but- but that didn't matter. He trusted his instinct.

Kurogane let the other speak, taking in what information he could as the machine gave no proper answer to his question. Being ordered back was common enough from a brainwashed patient, yet that alone did not make him one. After his words though, even were he to be a patient, however strange looking in reality, Kurogane found himself wanting to refuse the demand. Not for pride, but for the fact that the guy was rubbing him the wrong way.

"Sorry, haven't seen anything that wouldn't fit through a door inside before," he snorted out, shifting his weight a bit in preparation.

Before he tried anything though, the radio under his cloak sounded off with Marc's voice. So he's on the move... Kurogane noted without once taking his attention away from the threat that was Depth Charge. If Marc was talking about the basement as well, then Kurogane could bet he had the right lead for once. In that case, he could only wonder how much destruction that gun would cause to the wall as he suddenly dashed away from the building, running the length of the wall.

Yeah, yeah. They'd done this little part of the routine countless times before, trading a couple of tired one-liners and smack-talk before either of them made their move, and frankly the shine was starting to wear off as quickly as Depth Charge's patience wore thin.

As he moved to speak, though, the crackle of something by X's side caught his attention: a radio signal of some sort, and a voice saying something about communication and making a difference and running into someone. The part of his processor that might have understood had been shut off, though, and he was forced to grapple with a more personal interpretation.

Depth Charge laughed flatly. "Calling for backup already? Smart move."

But his target was already moving, and he didn't waste any more time on talk before firing several gleaming shots of blindingly white energon: they hit the wall with a crash, reducing it to rubble barely inches from his target's heels. "You can't run from me, X!" he snarled, and took aim for another, less sporadic shot.

Though he kept his eyes focused ahead of him, Kurogane could tell the amount of power and subsequent destruction that the gunfire was causing behind him. The sounds from the crumbling wall were loud enough to alert anyone to the battle, and with the light flashing with each shot fired, Kurogane knew getting a direct hit was not an option. The wall hadn't fared well, in any event, but that was a good thing for him.

Hearing the machine shouting at him, Kurogane found his chance and halted his run abruptly, turning his back so that only his cloak showed to his opponent. He lifted a hand to the cloak's tie and allowed the few moments should the other try for a shot.

In any other situation it might have bothered Depth Charge that X wasn't even trying to fight back, but as it was he didn't give it another thought- or at least, something stopped him from giving it another thought. X was scum: why should it have been surprising that he was living up to that?

As the dust settled and his sensors picked out the figure standing still by the remains of the wall, back turned. Might as well have been wearing a bullseye. "That's more like it," he commented coldly. "Glad to see you finally figured it out."

Then he raised his gun and fired one more shot.

The wait for the shot wasn't a long one, and Kurogane responded to the bullet in the same fashion as before, only this time with a bit more purpose to his movements. He left himself unmoving for a fraction of a second following the shot - enough time for the shot to reach to him. Just as he felt the heated energy stinging through his cloak he finally made his move, heading not forward, but back the way he'd come. His cloak meanwhile stayed behind, the ninja ducking out of it just before both cloak and the following wall were reduced to rubble.

With the machine hopefully distracted by the misdirection, Kurogane made his break for the first hole created in the wall at top speed. If he took a hit now, he'd no choice but to deal with it after getting to the Cafeteria. He still didn't know if this enemy was brainwashed, and if he wasn't, then chances were it would follow after him even beyond the wall.

He wasn't getting stopped here tonight.

The sizzle and flare of the cape catching alight burst into the night as his energon blast hit the cloak, and the air filled with the acrid smell of burning cloth.

Wait, cloth? For a moment Depth Charge struggled to process that, why X would have cloth on him- but any query he might have had was silenced by the fact that, for all the flash and bang of his attack, it might as well have been a squib because X was still moving. And not only that, but he was moving towards the hole he'd blasted in the wall like an idiot.

"Slag it-!" he hissed, raising his gun again, but it was harder than ever to hit the Pred now that he was running at top speed, especially when he wasn't shooting to kill. But nothing in the world would have stopped Depth Charge pulling that trigger again. Desperate, he fired a final shot towards his target and willed it to fall before it left the area.

The machine's curse caught in his ears as he reached the hole, followed closely by another sound of gunfire. There was no time for him to gauge anything but what was in front of him, so he took his chances, kicking off from the ground to jump the rubble piled at the base of the hole. Just as he was about to clear the pile and enter the Courtyard, heat flared at the back of his left leg as the shot caught him.

"Dammit!" he swore, more at getting hit than at the burning the shot left, as he fell short of his mark. He lost his balance a moment with his boots sliding on the rubble before he grabbed the wall and pulled himself forward. Once more he jumped, this time down as he finally made it into the Courtyard and away from Depth Charge.

[gone here]

[from here]

...Okay. Snow had been pretty much ready for anything when he'd gone and barreled through the door. But he hadn't been expecting a blast of freezing cold air to slam him in the face. It caught him off guard enough that he jerked as soon as he was through.

"Argh..." What... what the hell? How'd he end up going outside? More than that, wasn't this... yeah, this was that place he'd been earlier today. Only it was a whole lot colder now than it had been then. He knew he was lost, but he didn't think he was that lost.

It was kind of funny, really. When he'd been looking for the exit, he wound up everywhere else. And now that he was looking for a room, that's when he wound up out here. Heh, some luck, huh? Oh well. At least he kind of knew where he was. You know, generally. Ironically, it was a little easier to make stuff out in the dark out here, but not by much.

He stood there for a moment, ignoring the numbness starting to inch along his fingertips, and tried really hard to remember what the area had looked like during the day. ...Had there been anything unusual or interesting around this area at all? If there had, now would be the time to check it out. Now while no one was hanging around watching every stinking move he made.

[unknowingly meeting Hope]

[From here.]

Hope was incredibly grateful, now, that he'd opted to bring the coat with him. It was cold, a sensation he wasn't exactly familiar with. Palumpolum, much like most of Cocoon, was kept at a climate comfortable for human living. Even the places he and Lightning ventured through beyond the crystalline lake of Bresha were relatively moderate in temperature. And so he gasped aloud, arms wrapping tight around him in shock as the cold air came up to meet him. His nose and cheeks felt it immediately, as did his hands.

He couldn't believe it, though, once he'd gotten over that shock. He was outside. Was that really all it took? A few dark passages and two doors? His hands shook, not only from the cold but from a combination of exhilaration and nervousness.

I did it. I really did it.

A little visible cloud of fog escaped his lips when Hope exhaled. Maybe Lightning would even be proud of him. It was time to find her, to find any sign of her. A glimmer of optimism flickered in his heart. If he could get this far, then surely his mentor wouldn't have let them take her down. She was much stronger and more much clever than Hope could ever be.

He knew he couldn't sit still, of course. It was time to keep moving. Hope clicked the flashlight off; there was a greater chance of there being PSICOM guards patrolling the area, and he did not want to arouse any more attention than was necessary. Into a pocket it went, and Hope took a few seconds to button up the front of his coat, as quick as he could be.

A noise nearby startled him, and Hope went stock still, wide green eyes panning all around him. There was a large shape only a few yards from him, standing before what looked to be another door. Hope inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. It was a good thing that he'd emerged from this door and not the other – or else that guard would have got him. The boy flattened himself against the wall, gaze fully trained on what he took to be a patrol, attempting to size up the difference between them. Would it be better to run, or to strike?

Except as Hope's eyes slowly grew accustomed to the dim natural lighting of the outdoors, he caught sight of something else curious. A flash of yellow splashed over the front of the man's shirt.

It was that stupid smiley face!

That was when Hope realized that the way the man stood, also appearing to be looking around... he couldn't have been a guard. Especially not with that ridiculous shirt, and the same grey pants he himself wore. This was another prisoner, just like him. The teen eased up where he stood, but still remained on the alert for any enemies nearby, slowly picking his way across the grass. As he drew closer, Hope slowly began to make the figure out. He was really, really big – that's what struck him right off the bat. Towering, in fact. That was probably what had led Hope to think he could have been a guard, he realized.

Lingering halfway between where he'd emerged and where the man stood, Hope frowned, squinting slightly as he attempted to make out this guy's features. A mop of shaggy blond hair, and a few days' worth of stubble creeping up over his chin and jaw. Hope wrinkled his nose.

...

And then went completely rigid, a sharp, sudden recognition coursing through him when it all clicked together in his mind.

It was him.

Of all the people he'd run into, it had to be him. Hope would have laughed if he wasn't on the verge of angry tears.

"Snow." The word was hissed in surprise, through tightly-grit teeth. The teen hadn't meant to speak out loud – but it was there and it was certainly audible enough that the guy would easily be able to hear him.

Edited 2012-02-20 02:53 (UTC)

That certainly caught his attention. For one, Snow hadn't even heard anyone approaching him. So a sudden voice popping in out of nowhere? Just a wee bit startling, yeah. And two, that voice... was familiar. Really familiar. And sure enough, he was right. Even with the dim amount of light there was out here, it was easy enough to make out the silver hair and realize who it was.

"Hope!" He probably sounded about as surprised as he was feeling. Lightning had told him that Hope was wandering around this place, but he hadn't see him anywhere. And he'd been looking. Snow had figured that he'd, you know, 'vanished' along with Lightning to wherever it was everyone else was being held. Had he really just been missing him this whole time? The place was big, so maybe.

Snow beamed a bright smile, overcome with absolute relief. Haha, man! So he'd been alright this whole time! Now he felt like he'd been worried for nothing. But he was really glad he was safe. That was at least one load off. Now he was kind of wondering if he was overthinking the whole Lightning and Serah disappearing thing, too. If he overlooked Hope all this time, maybe they were wandering around somewhere, too? Maybe they weren't being held captive at all.

"Heey. So there you are! How you been holdin' up, huh?" Cause it was still dark, so he couldn't really see him all that well. He was probably fine though. ...Actually, what was he doing out here, anyway?

He was smiling.

Of course, he was smiling. That same stupid vapid grin that Hope saw everywhere else, completely oblivious to the pain he'd caused, the lives he'd destroyed. Snow was smiling just like that stupid logo on his shirt. A hand plunged into the boy's pocket, gripping the flashlight there protectively, perhaps for some small measure of security. His expression did not change; he did not want to give Snow even an inkling that he was happy to see him.

Because he was most certainly not, and once again, the idiot couldn't even figure that out – or why. Why would he? It didn't matter at all that Hope's mother gave her life to protect his, or that he'd acted irresponsibility. So long as his own hide was safe, that was okay. Hope's heart clenched, an ache flaring up in his chest. For a moment he was choking on his own grief and anger again, the way he always tended to do at random intervals, often spurred by the mere sight of the man before him.

But he did it all silently, and drew himself up straight again. Hope was already tiny, dwarfed even moreso by Snow's great height, but he kept his chin held high as he frowned up into the other l'Cie's face.

"So they got you too." His voice was cold, as cold as it was around them. "Where have you even been, Snow?"

Well that was a strange thing to say. Strange thing to ask, too. Could it be that Lightning had never had the chance to tell Hope that he was here, too? And could it be that Hope had actually been wandering around looking for him and Lightning and anyone else, too? To be honest, Snow hadn't even considered someone might be looking for him back. He felt a little bad about it. After all, he hadn't been going out of his way to be especially conspicuous or anything. Maybe he should have been trying harder to be noticed, too.

He exhaled a visible breath and reached up to rub the back of his head with one hand, the other firmly planting itself on his hip. The motion seemed to make him aware of the cold all over again. Or at least made him aware of how numb his limbs were getting just standing around. Funny how fast that happened. He still wasn't used to these crazy temperatures...

"Been right here this whole time." He shook his head slightly. "Ha, place's a lot bigger than it feels sometimes, I guess. It's kinda easy to lose track of people. ...You seen any of the others lately?"

He was pretty sure he was right about Lightning not being here right now. He'd tried contacting Lightning and gotten no response. And after the way she'd yelled at him for not keeping in touch that one time, he doubted she would've suddenly decided to start ignoring his notes. And same with Serah. Still, it was worth a shot asking.

Hope shook his head, voice terse. "No, I haven't." He took his eyes off Snow then, scanning the field past him, attempting to see in the darkness. This proved to be rather useless, however, and so he drew the flashlight out of his coat pocket once more – but then he gave pause. Sure, he found another prisoner, but there was still no telling what was lurking past them. Especially given an open area like this; after all, there had been the pens back in the Gapra Whitewood that held monsters within. It wasn't safe. He could never assume that any place here was safe—that much was for certain.

So Snow had been captured, just like him, and he saw no sign of the others either. That didn't explain his whereabouts before, though. The last time Hope saw him, he was trying to dig a crystallized Serah out of the lake! And now he was sauntering about this place without a care in the world. Go figure, the teenager thought bitterly, fingers tightening around the flashlight. He kept it off for the moment. The light could still attract unwanted attention, from prison guards and lurking beasts alike.

"We don't know what's out there," he muttered, no small amount of annoyance seeping into his tone. "Did you even try to look for them?" Hope's earlier optimism was beginning to waver, mostly due to Snow's presence and obnoxious nature. He was worried about Lightning and the other two, wondering if they'd made it safely, and it didn't even seem like a big deal to Snow at all – even though he knew nothing about their whereabouts either! Was he truly that self-absorbed?

Though Hope caught something in his words just then, albeit slowly as it took a bit for them to penetrate the thick fog of loathing he held for the man before him. It sounded like Snow might have had more of a chance to take the interior in, and that could be of use to him. Idly turning the flashlight around in his hands, Hope refused to look up at him again, but he still spoke. His voice was no less quiet or tense.

"Um... what did you find?"

Yeah, he figured that was a bit of a long shot. If Hope couldn't find him what were the chances of him having spotted either Lightning or Serah? They definitely had to be in another part of the building. Or maybe another building entirely. Who knew how big this facility was? It meant it might take a little longer to find them than he'd like. But... on the plus side, at least they were together. They could look out for each other. It was better than being alone.

Hope reached down and grabbed... something. And was holding it. He couldn't tell what it was. It just looked like a blunt object in the darkness. But he was clasping it up in a way that made him think it was there for protection's sake. And that guess was confirmed when Hope muttered under his breath about not knowing what was out there.

Snow frowned slightly, but didn't say anything. Was he... worried? It was pretty dark, so he could see why that'd bother the kid. Especially in a place known to be crawling with all sorts of monsters. Poor kid.

"Been looking for a few days now, actually. For you, Lightning, and Serah. Can't really say I've found much of anything. Like I said, the place seems like it's bigger than it looks." He crossed his arms and considered what little progress he'd made recently. "...Can say one thing for sure, though. No way they're hanging anywhere 'round here. I been up and down this whole area, feels like.

"Chances are, they're being held in another part of the building. Or on another floor." Or... somewhere else entirely. But he didn't need to say that much. The kid was worried enough as is just thinking about monsters, after all. So Snow tried his best to look as positive and reassuring as possible. "Heh. Just a matter of finding 'em is all."

"You've been here for a few days?" Hope frowned again, exasperation in his voice.

"Great."

So Snow was actually captured before him and Lightning, it seemed. And yet there was no sign of the others, which meant he was probably the first. Of course, he would be trying to find Serah, too. What could the Sanctum have done with her?

It wasn't until he stuck close with Lightning that Hope began to actually care about the girl and what could become of her, at least a little. Before, he only thought of her as a large part of the reason he'd been struck with this curse in the first place, and Snow's constant blathering about her, using her as justification for his own stubbornness when he really didn't know any more about their Focus than the rest of them. That had managed to get under Hope's skin, too.

She was important to Lightning, though, and the small tidbits he'd learnt of the woman and her sister at least made her something more real to him, and not simply a crystallized veneration that Snow stupidly idolized. "The military probably has her. M-maybe they're doing some kind of research." At least, he hoped so. They could just as easily destroy her in the vulnerable state she was in, though, since Serah was tainted by Pulse and therefore an enemy as far as the rest of humanity was concerned. Just like him and Snow now, and Lightning, and the others.

Regardless of their situation, though, Hope really didn't look too happy at the prospect of spending more time with Snow. Considering what he witnessed back in the Vestige, he'd probably go charging off at something else and ruin Hope's plans of formulating a strategy to find Lightning and escape. Even the thought of it had him seething. Cupping a hand around the bulb of the flashlight, Hope carefully flicked it on. He could see a little better, and the light was mostly stifled, so their chances of catching a guard or officer's eye was significantly dulled. Hand glowing orange from the light beneath it, he lifted it to his face and squinted past them over the field.

"We need to find a way out, and— and then go back for them. I'm already out here, so... I-I'm going ahead." His voice was already beginning to falter with uncertainty, with emotion. He needed to hold on. Just a little longer. If he came apart in front of the man now, all would be lost.

Edited (caught a random typo... don't mind me... /sob) 2012-02-20 22:57 (UTC)

[From here. SORRY THIS IS SO LATE D:]

The cold air bit sharply against the Scarecrow's skin as he flung himself outside, the door doing nothing to slow his breakneck pace. Fear-laced determination had been driving him, keeping his feet moving in spite of all that stood in front of him as an obstacle; however, now faced with the night air, snow around him disturbed with footprints, the wall around the field crumbling, he was given pause. Something definitely was not right.

Gathering what courage he had in his chest, the Scarecrow stepped slowly into the snow, bare feet crunching lightly as he crossed it and headed toward the rubble that had been the wall. If there was any night to simply leave, to go beyond the borders of the Institute, this was it- there was even a viable exit waiting. But regardless of the temptation, the Scarecrow knew he couldn't leave. Not right now. Not alone.

X had escaped, but Depth Charge was used to that. Once the initial frustration wore off, he slid carefully back into the shadows to await the next opportunity. And there would be one. There was an inevitability to the Predacon's capture that pleased him, the sense that they were playing a waiting game and all he needed was time and patience to win out- and when it came to Protoform X? He had that in spades.

His sensors sparked to life some time later: not X, but another Predacon, he was sure of it, crossing the field and heading in the same direction X had gone. Not on his watch. Your run-of-the-mill Predacon wasn't quite up there with Protoform X, of course, but that didn't mean he was gonna tolerate it.

Depth Charge's eyes flickered back on and he took a step out from the dark shadow of the building. His joints whirred, his gears ground, his feet made impressions not only in the snow but in the grass beneath. He towered over the figure in the snow, the faintest sliver of moonlight giving him a silvery aura.

"Stand down, Pred," he said, though he didn't lift his gun. Not yet. "You're outmatched."

The sound of metal on metal alerted the Scarecrow that he wasn't alone on the field, but the sight that greeted him was anything but what he expected. Towering over him was a being that looked, as best as he could put together, a little like if Tin Man and the Royal Army of Oz were combined into a single, imposing entity. This one was far taller and far more threatening than either of them ever had been.

Said qualities were only amplified as the Scarecrow's legs trembled and gave out from under him, sending him backwards and onto his rear in the snow. If this was a robot, like he'd thought Tin Man and Tik-Tok might be based on the descriptions of "human-like" and "made of metal," they certainly weren't anything like he'd imagined. And the thought that Wizard Landel had them at his disposal was terrifying, indeed. Then again, he had witches both as prisoners and as guards for his hallways- why should it be any different for the robots?

It wasn't until what he presumed was a proper robot spoke that faint recognition crossed him. There was something in the tone of the robot's voice that struck a chord in him, but he couldn't put his finger on what when he was shaking from both the cold and his own personal terror. Still, in spite of his fear, he got to his feet. Courage dwindling or not, he had something he had to do.

"N-n-now see here, you!" he called back with an indignant wag of his finger. "I don't know who you are or who you think I am, but I've got someone I have to find and I'm not leaving until I've done that!"

Depth Charge squinted. Was that guy really wagging his digit at him? Seriously? It was funny enough that a Predacon thought he had the moral high-ground at all, but to actually literally wag a finger at him? Well, consider him severely chastised.

In any other circumstances, he might have taken a moment to laugh off the irony, but with X still out there he wasn't exactly in the mood to stop for anything.

"You should really get yourself a better cover story," he commented instead, "'I don't know anything about anything' is kinda weak, even for some with fried logic circuits." He lifted the barrel of the gun menacingly, just enough for it to catch the light with a cold glint, and jerked it back towards the door. His optics were narrowed to thin, glowing slits. "Now get back in there before I finish the rest of 'em off."

The last thing he needed was someone chasing off after X and helping him out- the 'con was injured, Depth Charge was sure of it, and if he could get him back here alone...

It was a sweet, sweet thought. But that was only possible if he could get rid of this one. "Last chance. What'll it be?"

He certainly sounded like a robot, as well- even used some words the Scarecrow was fairly sure he'd heard Depth Charge use once or twice. He wasn't exactly sure what it was the robot was holding— it didn't look like anything he recognzed— but the way he brandished it, coupled with his intimidating size, was threatening enough. He pieced together it was a weapon of some sort- after all, Tin Man had an axe and Tik-Tok...

Hm. What was it the Royal Army of Oz used when defending the city? The Scarecrow had never seen him fight before. Then again, without the Wicked Witch of the West, there wasn't much to defend the Emerald City from, so—

Oh, this was not the time to be thinking about that! The Scarecrow stood his ground. "I don't think you understand. I'm not trying to escape or start a fight. I'm looking for my roommate. He's a robot, like your- well, not like you at the moment, but that's what he is normally, I think. And he was taken, see, and—"

The gears turned visibly in his head as he put together pieces he hadn't realized were there. Something about the robot before him did strike him as oddly familiar, from his tone of voice to the way he used his height and narrowing eyes as impositions.

"... Depth Charge?"

It was as though the Scarecrow had never even mentioned a roommate; at the sound of his name Depth Charge gave a low, pitying chuckle. "So you do know who I am. You're a pretty terrible actor."

Maybe now he'd dropped the innocent act he'd stop screwing around and actually realise that it was in his best interests to back off- as quickly as possible, given how thin his patience was wearing. As much as Depth Charge would have liked to blow the Pred's headlights off, though, it was in his best interests to conserve his energy for X. Last thing he wanted was to run out of ammo before he could take that scrap-pile down- this fight needed to be the last.

He lifted his gun, and suddenly the Scarecrow was about to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun, more or less. The height difference made it a easier to aim at the ground in front of the man instead of the man himself. Depth Charge figured could fire off a warning shot and just about singe his heels at this angle.

"Time's up. It's fight or flight, Predacreep." And with that, he pulled the trigger and fired a warning shot into the ground between the two of them.

When the Scarecrow had taken a guess at the robot's name, a part of him still held onto the dim hope that it wasn't actually Depth Charge standing before him, and that the similarities had all been stretches made by his human mind in his desperation to find his roommate; however, it became all too clear that not only was this said roommate, but he had indeed been brainwashed and put to work by Wizard Landel, as had Mele and the others before him. The nonrecognition of Scarecrow as his friend should have been an immediate sign; however, it wasn't until the attack that his intent became perfectly clear.

The Scarecrow leapt into the air as Depth Charge used his weapon, the ground between them a smoldering crater, smoke and steam slithering from it like snakes in the frosty air. The snow did nothing to cushion his fall; he hadn't even noticed the cold or the pain of landing harshly on his arms as he stared at the impact, every bone in him rattled. Just as Mele had threatened to light him ablaze, his roommate was equally dangerous.

And just as he'd tried with her, the Scarecrow couldn't help but want to try to help Depth Charge, as well. Convince him that he was bewitched somehow, and that he'd apparently gotten back into his body (or what the strawman presumed was his body in his moment of terror, anyway) and that all would be just fine if he could remember why he was there. It wasn't to help Wizard Landel- he was a hostage, being held and used against his will. There had to be a way to convince him, the Scarecrow told himself. There just had to be!

With his entire frame shaking, he got to his feet again, looking for anything he could find in the glowing, red slits that stared down at him ominously. "D- Depth Charge! It's me, Scarecrow! I'm your friend, remember? Oh, you've got to believe me! Don't let Wizard Landel use you like this!"

Some 'bots might have gotten the message after that first shot that he wasn't in the mood for playing games- Depth Charge figured he could count on Waspinator to leave a satisfying trail of blind terror behind him when the odds sunk in, and maybe Tarantulas too once his little gadgets failed. But most Preds just never knew when to quit, to the point where it was difficult to get any real satisfaction from sending 'em straight to the CR chamber. It just ended up as a nuisance.

It looked like this was going to be one of those occasions. Even before the dust settled Depth Charge's sensors had picked out the figure staggering to his feet and turning to him rather than the door he'd come out of. Just great.

As if to make matters worse, the guy didn't even try to put up a fight- he just started talking. Depth Charge hesitated for a moment, vaguely surprised, before shaking his head and sighing deeply, as though he were talking to a some sparkling caught stealing energon cookies. "Wizards? Friends? Sounds like someone needs an overhaul."

He holstered his gun with a click- it'd only be a waste, and he didn't want to blow the Pred away (why not? that would make more sense, wouldn't- but the thought never stood a chance)- before reaching back and pulling his tail-spear look instead. Deftly, he twirled it around in his fingers so that its arrowhead pointed at his opponent. "Good thing I'm here to fix you up." Almost effortlessly, he took a swing at the man.

Though he knew in his heart of hearts that Depth Charge wouldn't hurt him intentionally, the fact of the matter was that his roommate wasn't himself at that moment— simultaneously, he was he was more himself than he had been in the time they'd known each other. As the spear came whistling through the air at him, the Scarecrow leapt backward, still shaking, but managing to dodge the blow entirely.

Though he took a few steps back, determination still overrode his fear somehow. Perhaps it was the way Depth Charge was being used. It wasn't the same as their mission, that much was true, but the point was he was being forced to do something against his will; however, the difference this time was that he wasn't even aware he was bewitched, being forced to turn on his friends for whatever wicked reason Wizard Landel had thought up.

Depth Charge had protected him before, tried to keep him from harm's way. It was high time he did the same. If nothing else, if he was occupied, he couldn't go and hurt anyone else. The Scarecrow wasn't entirely convinced there wasn't some way to get him to snap out of it.

His feet fumbled over some of the rubble from the wall as he walked backward, hands up as a sign of his good will. "You don't want to do this. I know you don't! You've been bewitched!"

If there had still been a complete wall Depth Charge would have had his opponent just where he wanted him, cornered and with little hope of escaping. With chunks of it missing from his earlier misses, however, all it presented was the perfect opportunity for escape, and not just any escape either- escape towards X. One Predacon he could deal with, one X he could try, but the two of them together?

The debris at least seemed to be slowing him down, forcing him to pick his way carefully backwards. It presented no such trouble for Depth Charge's large, metal feet, which marched onwards with a thudding certainty, crushing the rock to dust beneath them. If he approached from a slightly different angle there was a chance he could shepherd him back towards the doors.

"What I don't want is Preds clogging up my turf." He hoisted the tail spear back up again, ready to take another swing. This time he used the blunted end, swinging it in a wide arc towards the Scarecrow in the hope he could scare- or even, if it came to it, physically knock- him in the right direction. "Don't make this hurt more than it has to."

The Scarecrow moved as he saw Depth Charge rear back with his weapon again; unfortunately, as he scrambled to his feet, broken bits of the wall sliding under him, he moved directly into the path of the blow by mistake. It connected with the side of his chest- he felt all the air knocked out of him as he was tossed by the force of the impact, skidding through the snow and coming to a halt a few yards from the door leading to the patient halls. His arms took most of the landing, though his entire body rattled unsteadily as he gasped.

So sure for a second something in his human frame must have broken, the Scarecrow was still for a moment, finally pushing himself off the ground with wobbling arms. His body seemed to be screaming from the inside, his side tender as he attempted to stumble to his feet- he was unsuccessful the first time and worked to catch his breath, an instinct in him telling him to run for his own good. His eyes landed on Depth Charge's feet, a mixture of snow and debris pooled around them.

"You're being used!" He wheezed, taking another breath before continuing. He put a hand to his knee and pushed off the ground again. "I've seen this happen before, but—" he took another long breath, coughing, "—I know you wouldn't do this! You wouldn't let Landel control you, like he's doing now! You've got to snap out of it!"

Nightshift 61: Recreational Field

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Except with the right journal this time.

LMAO I was so confused for a second there

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