No Politics Squad

The first days of Zeta's reign suggest hope enough to some in Nyon to lighten even the Rust Narrows. But it's not like Hot Rod is throwing in the towel and quitting, here. He steps out of one of the many unlicensed clinics that he helps supply, transforms, and drives back toward the Acropolex. He drives openly and without concern for the Senate spies that swarm the sky, because this is, after all, a brand new day, and everything is forgiven, and everything will be better. Red and orange and gold and /flashy/, he races down empty streets to the not-so-abandoned buildings where he transforms in a long stretch. Rather than immediately head inside, he turns, sits, and looks. He's easy to find, at least, with /that/ paint job.
Hot Rod might stand out in his paint job, but he isn't the only one that, just perhaps, didn't make the best decisions with their colors. 
Walking along the street and looking particularly disheveled, a petite little mech moves along. Hot Rod might recognize him. He's covered in a bit more grime than usual, but considering where he came from, maybe he's just used to it. 
Backdrop doesn't notice Hot Rod at first. Why he isn't in vehicle mode is anyone's guess.
"Hey, Backdrop!" Hot Rod calls. Not notice Hot Rod, PLS. He'll just make sure of it. He lifts his hand in a wave. His easy friendliness reflects the cautious optimism that's taking root among the lower caste and disposable workers in Nyon. His smile is even brighter than usual.
Startled, Backdrops looks up with wide, worried optics. Once he realizes it's just Hot Rod, though, he visibly relaxes. 
"Hot Rod!" Oh, and now he's practically toddling over, beaming widely. "I haven't seen you in a while! Where've you been?"
"Well, Kaon," Hot Rod says. He shifts in his seat, gesturing an invitation to join him. He sits on the ruin of a ledge at the base of a column. Because this is Nyon, the column is a ruin too. It rises perhaps a hundred feet above them before it's broken off. The rest of it is nowhere to be seen. "I was there for the whole -- everything. Then down in Rodion. So, you know, around, but not around here." He looks a touch sheepish about that, and glances around to see if Arsenal is standing somewhere nearby frowning at him. No, he's safe.
"Woah." Backdrop nods at Hot Rod's miniature adventure tale. "Yeah... Things have been a little... Insane, lately." He looks Hot Rod over. "But you're... Okay, right? Everything's okay?" CONCERN.
Hot Rod grins. "Yeah, I'm okay. Even if it did a number on the credibility of my 'I'm not really a Decepticon' explanation," he adds with a laugh. "It was tense, but -- and it feels kind of weird to say this, but Megatron was always confident about getting out. I figured something was planned. Just--." He breaks off, expression faltering. "Just not that."
For a moment, Backdrop shifts in place. A bit of confusion goes over his face. "What's wrong with being a Decepticon?"
"I wouldn't say there's anything wrong with it--" Somewhere, Orion Pax's hand spasms with the spark-deep knowledge that somewhere, somewhy Hot Rod needs a slap upside the head. "--but that's not what I'm about. Decepticons are all 'let's take over Kaon' and I'm like 'you know, Nyon needs help'."
"...What if both things need to happen, though?" Backdrop shrugs; he's looking at the floor now, legs swinging rather adorably over the ledge of their makeshift bench. "'Cause... 'Cause the Decepticons seem like they're really good guys..."
"Some of them are," Hot Rod agrees. He nods in encouragement. "A lot of them are, actually. They've been a lot of help getting the stuff Nyon needed. And they fight for the right reasons." Here, he hesitates again. "Mostly. But I don't know, Backdrop. Not all of the Senators deserved to die. I know of at least one of them who was going to push to abolish the caste system. He probably had some kind of support. And they weren't paying a lot of attention to anyone who got between them and Sentinel's forces when they were taking Kaon."
There's a moment of silence as Backdrop seems to think this over. Though, he does seem startled. "They just... Killed everybody that happened to be there? Not just the senators? It bought it was just the senators..."
Hot Rod glances over at Backdrop with a tilt of his head. "They didn't walk out of prison unopposed. Neither did they take the city unopposed. The Senate was the big one, sure. Everyone knows about that. But there were a lot of Enforcers, a lot of administrators -- I don't know. The Autobots weren't all that careful, either. It was just ... bloody, and awful, and I'm glad to be back."
"...Huh." Backdrop seems to be in seriously deep thought, now. "'Cause... I talked to a guy named Soundwave. Really nice guy. Gave me a book to read. And I was thinking maybe to join his group, 'cause..." A shrug. "Disposables aren't gonna be able to get through all this without some help, I don't think, and I don't know what I could do, but I want to try, y'know?"
Expression brightening, Hot Rod says, "I've met him. Yeah, he's a good guy. I bet he gave you Megatron's stuff. I tried reading some of it." Please note: tried. He shrugs. Reading is for nerds. "Decepticons aren't the only help there is. I want people in Nyon to be able to help each other. Don't just -- leave for Kaon, you know? And I heard Zeta's going to change things, maybe. I hope he does. It can't stay like it is, and now people know that."
"...What are YOU gonna do?" Backdrop looks up at Hot Rod. "Are you gonna join one of the groups starting up, too...?"
Hot Rod looks a little uncomfortable. He smiles, tight and a little awkward. "I don't know, mech. Some people'll tell you I started a group. Maybe. I'm staying here, whatever happens. Helping Nyon. I guess I've got, uh, responsibilities here."
Backdrop nods slightly at Hot Rod. Then, he pauses. 
"...Do you need help with anything?"
Hot Rod laughs and leans back. "What /don't/ we need help with!" His smile lingers and he tilts his head, looking over at Backdrop. "You offering? It's been a long walk for you from calling me a criminal, huh?"
A shaky smile forms at Hot Rod's words. "I'm starting to think all the so-called criminals are really the good guys. I mean, according to the news, everybody's a terrorist, so..." A shrug. "Yeah. You did a LOT for me and the others. If you need anything... I mean, I don't have much, but..."
Reaching over, Hot Rod drops his hand on Backdrop's shoulder and squeezes, once, gently, before his hand falls away. "You're not much wrong. Sentinel made it a crime to stand up for each other. He made it a crime to help each other. And he made it a crime to want something better. I hope that changes now, but even if it doesn't, that's still what I'm working toward. Something better. For everyone."
Hot Rod leans back and looks down at Nyon. "None of us have much. I mean, think about it," he says, jerking his thumb back over his shoulder at the Acropolex itself. "We don't even have that. We're just staying there for a while. As long as it lets us. But what we do have, we share -- with each other, and with Nyon. If you really want to help, there's definitely a place for you. All you need is the belief we can make things better and the will to make it happen."
Backdrop looks up at Hot Rod with wide optics and a vaguely amused expression on his face. "You make it sound easy. And magical. 'Believe in yourself and all the good things happen'." A small chuckle. "But... Yeah. I want to help. But, uhm, ARE you starting your own organization thing like everybody else? I've been seeing logos on things, lately." A pause. "Is that the right word? Logo? Symbol? I don't know news-slash-terrorist-slash-government lingo."
That's because Hot Rod has a fatal case of protagonist disease. Symptoms may include: grandiose thinking, tendency toward martyrdom, short-sightedness, self-centered actions, romanticizing trauma, attention-seeking behavior, and delusions, amid other symptoms. There's also a strange tendency to find the best lighting in a room and strike a pose. "It is that easy," he says with a bump of his shoulder in a shrug. "To say, anyway. It's a lot harder to do."
Hot Rod makes a face and says, "Ugh, please no logos. I don't even know what would make a good logo. Nyon flag? Can't exactly slap my face on things." (Hot Rod Ribbons.) "I don't know. What's the difference between a group of friends trying to do the right thing and a political organization, anyway? I don't want politics. I don't want power. I just want to make things better."
A small laugh comes from Backdrop. His legs are still swinging off the floor. He is... Very short. "I think I'll stay with you a while, then. I don't want to get mixed up in political things, and Soundwave's guys... Are super ultra political, I think."
"Way political," Hot Rod agrees. He pauses, then emphasizes, "Waaay. And it's not even that I disagree with their politics, exactly, but." He breaks off and sort of shrugs again, this time more helpless. "It was crazy, Backdrop. Being in Kaon. I don't even know what to think. The politics thing -- it's big. And I'm glad some people are doing that kind of big thing. But it's too big for me."
"Yeah..." Backdrop lets out a sigh. "I remember thinking that if things got like this, I'd die really quickly. Back when... Y'know." When he was even itty bittier. "I'm... Not a whole lot better now, but I would still kind of like to stay alive, so..." A sad little laugh.
Hot Rod's smile flashes a little brighter in answer. "Yeah, me too. But I plan to do better than that. Alive is a good start. But I'm gonna thrive. Nyon is gonna thrive. I'm not saying it's going to be easy, but it's worth it. You stick with us -- it'll be great." Lies, lies, and lies.
BELIEVABLE LIES