the s.ee.ds of [destruction] II
Coldfront rumbled, almost chuckling at Barricade. <<&&Can't take a moment to watch the entertainment? Moving in.&&>> It was nothing wrong with taking an idea from what was already happening down there. With his thoughts already going that way, he'd already located just what he needed on a road further out towards the outskirts of the city.
Barricade watched the sky attentively as the F-14 came into view, tilting his helm once as it once more disappeared. Ignoring, for now, the droves of screeching insects running about his feet, the twisted interceptor instead watched and waited to see if Coldfront would come back. It was just as likely that the much larger 'Con had decided to hit a different part of the city -- just as well. It was merely that mass murder and burning poop down was so much more fun when you had someone with you who loved fire just as much.
Ah, but wait....
Coldfront appeared yet again, carrying...... oh delightful. If he had the mind for it, and that much human influence, Barricade might have clapped in psychotic glee for the fact that the murderous Tomcat was carrying, and dropping, a full gas tanker onto a group of people down the street. Quickly, he tuned his audios just before impact so that he could hear the wet crunch of human bodies as they were reduced to jelly by the weight of the tanker. Mmmmn... and of course, Coldfront's grand finale lit up the Strip with light and hellfire. The Decepticon Elite shielded his optics for a moment and leaned back, feeling the heat of the massive explosion despite his distance from it.
Descending, he transformed to land on a road there, the asphalt cracking and groaning from the impact. Growling quietly as he leaned slightly over the cab part of a tank truck. The Seeker's taloned hands moving to part that from the tank, a kick sending the truck rolling and skidding away. Prize secured, Coldfront took to the air again, not at all minding the effort. Not with the use he'd put it to shortly, in mind.
Even with the blackout, the destruction started by Barricade on one part of the so-called Strip. Coldfront couldn't help but smirk at how many of the insects that were out. Ranging from those just driving or walking the streets, to those panicing due to the work of one mech. So much running and screaming, and the dying when either the Saleen or the fire caught up with them. Or even from nothing but their own doing, fleeing mindlessly.
Plenty more would join them in just a minute or two.
It was something of a rush when Coldfront swept down to deposit the tank right in the middle of a large crowd of people. Location picked due to being a safe distance from the Elite, and certainly with buildings containing plenty more nearby. A near purring sound coming from the F-14, in response to the fearful reaction of the bugs. He'd not actually landed. But oh, the matter of -something- huge and terrifying hovering above, and the deaths of several as they were crushed under the tank.
Afterburners roaring to life, Coldfront left the ground behind again, a missile flying the moment he was back in his jet-form. His sensors following it as it arched around, diving at its programed target without fail. Volatile chemicals set alight, and...the resulting detonation was sizable. Light from the resulting fireball flickering red on Coldfront's armor as he banked sharply for the best possible view. And for several moments, he simple flew, perhaps transfixed by the fire and destruction that had been generated below.
<<&&How is that?&&>>
Barricade emitted a dark, horrid sound, teeth parting and head tilting. <<&&Bravo! But I think I can one-up that trick.&&>>
Now he was a mech on a mission with his sights set on the MGM. The MGM Grand was a building made almost entirely of glass, settled on the street. A pileup occurred at the stop light in front of it, quite the accident too. It appeared to the maniacal Mustang that there were at least 12 cars involved, and, delightfully, three buses. The grand thing about the Saleen in times of destruction, was partially his competitive attitude and his desire to best his comrades, and partway his gigantic chest and shoulders. Encased in that thick shoulder armor were motors three times the size of a normal mech's his size, allowing him incredible strength. As such, Barricade had little trouble picking up the cars and setting them how he wanted them. Silver talons adept at stabbing through concrete made climbing the front wall easy, even carrying a car in his free hand in order to deposit it atop the high wall in front of the glass. He lined them that way, regardless of whether or not there were still hive members inside them, all along the wall, bumper to bumper.
Barricade wanted to make a statement. Slinking back down to ground level, the S281 grabbed one of the buses and pulled it apart, groaning with the effort of tearing steel and metal away from one another. He grinned a deadly grin at the screaming, yelling humans inside the bus, fishing them out of the wreckage and throwing them at will, tossing them like broken toys away from the real prize. Barricade dug through the floor of the bus and forcibly tore out the gasoline tank, shearing a hole with a talon and taking it to the intersection. Curiously, he dumped the gas in a seemingly haphazard fashion across the entire section, purring to himself at the plan he had in mind.
The other tour bus fell victim in the same fashion, insects dying the entire time as the second gasoline tank, this one full, was excavated from the dead shell. Balancing the fuel tub on one shoulder, the Elite scaled the concrete wall back to his domino cars, stalking along the concrete and pouring fuel onto each one. The humans inside, bloodied and bruised, screamed, and some tried to scramble out of their vehicles to run, but Barricade didn't care. Smiling, he lifted his talons towards the night sky and brought them down, brought them down hard against the concrete in a shower of sparks that ignited the gasoline and started the fiery domino effect he had set up.
The front wall of the MGM Grand lit up like a Christmas tree as the cars burned, insects screaming in fear and agony, oh, but the show wasn't finished there. Gasoline dripped down the front of the concrete became alive, and the fire crawled its horrible way down the face of the building to the street, and to the fuel Barricade had spread haphazardly across the entire intersection.
But perhaps not so un-uniformed. When in fact, as the intersection began to burn, setting everything alight that it touched, a particular image suddenly revealed itself.
In the form of terrible, licking fire, the Decepticon symbol burned for everyone to see on the Las Vegas Strip.