Welcome To Maccaddam's

Arcee arrives quietly, clutching a satchel with a council logo on it. It's officially her attaché case, but...ironically, it looks kind of like a purse, the way she has to wear it. She doesn't often stray far from the offices, but this is one of those rare times when council had a private session and they told her to...go take a walk.
Arcee, being young and trusting, doesn't really understand the concept of political corruption, yet.
Welcome to Maccadams, where everybody knows your name: You might even have your face on the menu, if you come here often enough.
At the edge of the bar, where she can see all entrances and exits, sits a copper and black fembot. She's enjoying something incredibly potent in a small glass, and she'd otherwise blend in with the crowd ... except that she's had fresh ink done.
A purple insignia marks her upper right torso.
Blast Off enters the bar, looking around with an aloof and unimpressed demeanor that just oozes the cool, smug confidence of a high-society type who has probably never experienced a day of hardship in their lives. But... looks CAN be deceiving.
He moves in towards the area the waiter is serving drinks, and leans against the bar, ordering some enerwine. He slowly glances around the bar again, looking bored... though his gaze does stop and linger for the briefest of moments at the femme with the purple badge on her chest.
As soon as Blast Off and sat down at the bar, someone he might recognize suddenly seems to appear next to him and sit himself down on the stool to his left. Yep, it's the famous athlete, Blurr. He orders a drink from the bartender, then turns toward Blast Off with a smirk. "Blast Off."
Arcee glances around timidly...all these very unfamiliar faces. She really should have accompanied one of the council members to the special session. If only she wasn't banned from doing so! (Stupid security clearances,) she thinks in exasperation. (Well, THESE mechs all seem to know each other. I guess if I had a social life outside of work, I'd know them, too. Hm, what was that they told me? Social lives are for the rich and privileged.) She looks over at the copper and black fembot, wondering to herself what kind of a life *she* must lead.
The copper and black femme's eyes are already on Arcee the moment the other femme looks over. Whoops. Made eye contact.
She nods pleasantly and smiles, raising her glass, before looking back to the bartender and speaking with him.
Blast Off turns his head as someone calls his name. And there is Blurr sitting right there. The shuttleformer looks as aloof as ever, simply giving the other mech a small, polite nod. ".... Blurr, wasn't it?" He pauses. "Last I saw you, you had run off with that femme." He doesn't ask how she is, though he does actually wonder. But... that also reminds him.... He pulls a datapad out of subspace, then looks down at it. "You left this when you... departed so rapidly." He places it on the table and glances around. It hasn't been signed... yet.
"You DO realize what you're asking me to do, correct?" His glance drifts back over to the two femmes nearby, then returns to gaze calmly at Blurr. If he's agitated about being asked to break the law, he's not showing it.
Blurr laughs. "Of -course- I know what I'm asking you to do. Do I look stupid?" He lowers his voice. "But you seem like the type to be up to that sort of thing, you know? You look like someone who isn't intimidated by -anything-. Not by dangerous space missions, and not by rules. Am I right, pal?" he asks, patting him on the shoulder.
Arcee maintains optic contact with the unusual femme for a moment, then looks away again uncomfortably. It's not like she *didn't* have friends; she had plenty of them, in fact, but she seldom left the council building because her mentors were protective of her and didn't want her to come under any bad influence. Which was understandable, Arcee thought...there were a lot of bad things out there. Or so she heard. This place was kind of strange. Nothing really looked very familiar, save for the blue guy. Had she seen him before, somewhere? Perhaps...but she just couldn't think of *where*. She sits quietly, pretending to wait for someone to arrive while listening in on the odd conversation.
Blast Off continues looking calmly at Blurr. His drink arrives, and he reaches for the enerwine, taking a small sip before glancing back at the datapad. He stiffens, however, when Blurr pats him on the arm. "...Don't... do that." He states quietly as he glances coldly up at Blurr, then leans back a little to look down at the datapad again. He doesn't answer at first, reading. Then he looks ups again. What Blurr says is true, but... he's not sure who might be listening.
"Intimidated? No. And dangerous space missions? You are looking at a pro- I have nothing to fear." He pauses to sip his wine again. "You appear to be one who likes to take risks yourself, then. Not impressed with current politics?" He asks casually, taking another sip of wine as he again lets his gaze drift to the two femmes.
Blurr just gives a nonchalant shrug at the question of politics. "I don't know, mech. My life's busy enough as it is without having to thinking about -politics-. All I know is that some of the rules get in the way of enhancing the racing experience so..."
He chuckles, and his drink arrives as well. "I'm glad you aren't intimidated, I didn't think you would be. So you going to take on the challenge or what? Or, you could, you know, just say no and keep going with the rest of your boring life." Not that he'd know if the rest of Blast Off's life is boring or not, but it has be boring at least compared to this.
A haggard looking mech moseys into the bar, eying each of the mechs (and fems) present for a moment. His armor is tarnished and his optics are cloudy--which can only mean one thing. Somebody's been on a pretty long drug trip with a couple circuit speeders.
His gaze finally settles on Blast Off, and he hesitates before hurrying over. "Hey.. hey! Remember me? It's Drift. Look, I know last time you got cheated out of our deal, but this time..." He leans closer to the shuttle former, his expression glazed over.
Arcee looks back at Blast Off, and smiles sweetly. It's the cute little expression of an adorable anime girl. Then, she takes out her tablet, and begins working on something. There's nothing on the tablet that has to do with council matters...it's just her own information tablet for personal use.
Shiftlock's optics immediately go to Drift. She groans audibly, getting up and walking towards him.
Blast Off responds, "....I will admit, I like a challenge..." Then he studies Blurr as if deliberating something. Boring? Not at all. The Racer doesn't have a clue... and that's just fine with the shuttle. When you appear to be the quiet, boring type- that just lets you take your enemies by surprise later. And he has no idea what Blurr is... yet. *Anyone* could be a subversive. There's another glance at Shiftlock's badge, but his gaze catches Arcee's innocent smile instead. He blinks, his aloof facade ever-so-slightly cracked, and gives her a polite nod.
And then... Drift shows up. Now his demeanor changes ... to one of annoyance. He leans away, "Wh-what??!! What are you even talking about?! What deal? There was no DEAL..."
Drift almost face plants into Blast Off's lap. "Whaaat?" he slurs, "yeah we did, you totally agreed to buy some, just later.." he says, nodding at the mech, totally unaware of Shiftlock heading straight for him.
Blurr grins. "I know you do. So, how about it? You know if you're going to do it or not, you'd better let me know because if not I'm going to offer it to someone else who'll be a bit more -eager-. You're not the only space shuttle out there, you know." He takes another sip of his drink, and then some street drug addict shows up. He sighs. Why would people want to overdose on circuit speeders anyway? Life is good.
Err...he tries to push Drift off of Blast Off's lap without touching him too much.
Arcee looks astonished at Drift's sudden entrance. She very rarely sees anyone THAT messed up, and it's a tragic sight. Feeling very sorry for the inebriated mech, she pulls a small card out of her satchel, steps over to Drift, pats him on the arm in pitying fashion, then tucks a card into his armor which explains where the nearest rehabilitation shop is located. Then, she heads back to her seat, looking concerned.
Shiftlock is now standing behind Drift. She notices the card in Arcee's hand and sighs. "You might as well forget it," she explains. "I think his brain module's been off to Luna-2 one too many times." She reaches down and grabs Drift's shoulder and hauls him up on her own strength, which is fairly surprising for someone who has a racer's frame. "C'mon Drift. How much did you do /this/ time?"
Blast Off bristles at the lowlife bum suddenly REALLY intruding into his space, and if there's anything the shuttle likes, NEEDS- it's SPACE. "Get... get OFF me!" He starts shoving Drift away as Blurr leans in to help too, and as they work together he's at least able to get off his seat and take a step back. He stands and glares at the bum. His reaction is the oppsoite of Arcee's.
"YOU came up to ME and starting slurring on and on about buying some Primus-forsaken something-or-other, and I have absolutely NO INTEREST. *I* am a cultured, upstanding citizen...why would I ever deal with the likes of YOU?" Shiftlock approaches and he just stares at her, but at least she pulls him away. Then he's back to glaring at Drift.
The card that Arcee tucks under Drift's arm goes to waste anyway, because Drift soon discovers it and dislodges it, his expression annoyed.
When Blast off and Blurr start shoving him, he falls over, stumbling into Shiftlock. She then lifts him up and he stares at her hazily. Then it registers in his cerebral circuitry that he knows this fem. "Oh. heeeeey, beautiful! Surely Miss Sunshine is up for a break from reality today!"
"Primus help him..." Blurr mutters, shaking his head as Blast Off steps away from the bar to avoid the drug addict. He glances at the two fembots. "You know him?" he asks Shift, appears to know his name, though the question is somewhat directed ar Arcee as well, since she had just...gone up and handed him a card.
"Hmm? Oh, no sir, I just felt bad for him," Arcee admits to Blurr. "No one should have to live that way."
"I look out for him," Shiftlock sighs. "Sorry femmes and gentlemechs. I don't have much to work with here, as you can see, but... well... someone has to keep trying. No one looks out for disposables anymore. Frag, high-castes don't even think we're sentient." She tries to lead Drift a little bit back from the other two. "I'm having my break, Drift, it's called engex. That's the *acceptable* way to get overcharged."
Blast Off is left alone, and the shuttleformer rolls his shoulders as if releasing stress and becoming composed again. He walks back to his seat and sits down, taking another drink. And he'd feel perfectly happy to ignore the whole lot of them now, too, but...
He turns his head to look at Shiftlock, his glance going to that badge she wears again. "....You have something against the high-caste?" The obviously high-caste mech asks calmly.
"... engex is as weak as slag," he mutters, struggling weakly against Shiftlock. "C'mon, gorgeous, you knooooow you want some... it feels soooo goooooood..." he draws out before nearly stasis locking onto the fem.
Blurr smirks. "You're right, no one should -have- to live that way." Because life here is like paradise, isn't it? Yes. "But I'm sure he just -prefers- it that way. I doubt anyone's -forcing- them into his fuel lines." He remarks, shaking his head at Drift as he almost passes out onto Shiftlock.
He arches an optic ridge at Shiftlock's comment about high castes. Disposables? People keep talking about this thing he's never heard about, but honestly he couldn't care less. "That's funny, you're talking as if we aren't standing here right in front of you."
Arcee seems embarassed *for* Drift, if such a thing can be said. "I think it's wonderful that you look out for your friend. I only wish he would take your advice before he permanently glitches his systems," she tells Shiftlock.
Shiftlock just sort of holds Drift as he spaces out. She has to look over his shoulder to look down at Blast Off and Blurr. "Well, it's not like he has a job. All he has is grifting and getting high. No job, no shanix, no energon. It's survival by any means necessary, or if you can't take living in a gutter by the scrapyards, you go to the relinquishment clinics and check out for keeps," she explains to Arcee. Then back to the two high caste chuckleheads. "Yes, I have a problem with *some* high castes, like the ones that sentence thousands of mechs to smelting or shutting down from lack of fuel just so that they can cut a little more profit. I also take some issue at pretty mechs who open their mouths and let the ignorance fall out. But that's the problem with racers. All that processing power goes straight to their legs and not their brain modules."
Drift suddenly comes to his senses and perhaps saves Shiflock from a possibly very offended Blurr by throwing himself onto the speedster's lap. "Heyy!! You want some, don't you? You do, don't you? I know you do..." he babbles, grabbing Blurr's arm.
Blast Off listens to Shiftlock rant, and continues to regard her, his face betraying no expression. Again, he seems to be deliberating something, and he pauses to take another sip of his wine before he responds. It's possible he doesn't believe a word she says, but it's also possible he has ulterior motives....
His voice is calm. "Is that why you wear that badge, then?"
Blurr frowns at Drift, and backs away from him, but Shiftlock's rant gets him pretty riled up. Oh, slag, she's one of -those- people, isn't she? The ones who want to destroy the system because they aren't happy with their lives. He glares at her. "Oh, I know your type. You're one of those people who hate everyone who's better off than you and love to blame everyone but yourselves for your oh-so-terrible lives, lives that involve enjoying drinks at Maccaddam's and buying circuit speeders to shoot into your brain modules, and then trying to sell them to other people, oh and refusing to get help for your problems. If you're not happy with your life, make it better and quit blaming your lack of good judgement on everyone else!"
Arcee watches this heated exchange with wide optics and a worried expression. Is this leading up to a fight? She isn't entirely sure, but if it *is*, she really doesn't want to be in the middle of it. She clutches her satchel and waits, too curious to simply run back to the council building now.
Blast Off watches with the same cool demeanor as Blurr loses his temper, his gaze darting between Shiftlock and the temperamental racer. He is normally quite aloof, and pulls it off very well. But finally, he decides to take some action, and he stands up to attempt to insert himself between them both, lifting his hands to either.
"Now, now, let us remain civil here. You are an upstanding citizen, Blurr, therefore you obviously have a good point." He turns to look at Shiftlock. "However, she has a point, too." He looks back to Blurr. "There /have/ been some rather... odd things I've noticed as of late, myself. Disappearances... odd changes in behavior. She has a right to be concerned." He turns to look at her, adding, "*I* have started to... be concerned, myself."
Arcee listens for a moment as Blast Off tries to keep the peace, but...she has this sinking feeling it's just not going to be enough, the way the tensions are building. And what if these class warriors discovered what SHE did for a living?
Quietly, but with a definite sense of haste, she leaves some shanix on the counter and gets the heck out of there.
"I was a higher caste than you," Shiftlock says pointedly to Blurr. "I *chose* to throw aside my caste after I saw the sort of wholesale corruption all around me. You have no room to talk about anyone's life. You're an /ornament/ used to /boost sales figures/." She reaches down to try to pull Drift away from Blurr again ugh you goofball, quit sniffing around the rich boy. "I have been to Ibex," she says with a wry, dangerous smirk. "I go there to collect debts sometimes, and you know what? Sometimes the pit crews are paid to make sure a pretty little thing like you stays out in front, because you're more entertaining than the others."
She pats Drift. "C'mon mech, they ain't gonna buy in here and if you keep pushing ol' Mac's gonna throw us both out." She glances up at Blurr and Blast Off again. "Go slumming sometime, Blurr -- yeah, I know your name, who doesn't? - go down to Kaon or the Dead End in Polyhex. See how the other half lives. I dare you." She makes her way to the door, and tries to urge Drift to do the same.
Drift grips Blurr's arm, tugging vigorously while mumbling incomprehensibly. However, he allows Shiftlock to drag him out of Maccadam's, helm drooping.
"Hah! Yeah right, a likely -story-." Blurr scoffs, watching her leave. "It's people like -you- who are going to ruin this planet, you know that? You think that because your life was scrap that everyone else's should be too. It isn't fair that some people have it better than others, well guess what, maybe it isn't but that's just life, so stop whining and -deal- with it." He just brushes off the idea that other people get paid to crash and lose so that Blurr can win, because that...isn't even something he'd ever thought about before. And besides, he's so ticked off right now...he's just too angry to even think about it.
Once she's gone, he just turns momentarily toward Blast Off, ignoring Drift with a sigh. "You've got a full solar cycle to decide on that contract. If you want it let me know, if not, I'm gonna get someone else." And with that, he's gone.
Blast Off watches Shiftlock and Drift go, feeling a bit disappointed when his plan fails to work, but he doesn't allow it to show. Instead he simply shrugs and moves to sit down again, reaching for his enerwine. Upon Blurr's statement, he nods, and starts reading through the datapad again. Hmm....
Later…
Blast Off sits inside Maccaddams, sipping a glass of enerwine. The shuttleformer is reading a datapad, occassionally glancing up as if keeping an optic out for someone... or some ONES.
Shiftlock enters the bar, this time sans one druggie. She goes over to the bar, looking for a drink. If she is aware of Blast Off, she doesn't make it know.
Arcee quietly shuffles in. Once again, she's managed to escape the council chambers, and why? Because number one, the council was so busy last cycle they didn't even realize she was gone; and secondly, she found this place absolutely fascinating and wanted to find out more about the mechs who come here. No one would think to look for her in here...right?
She seats herself into a corner booth, glancing around warily.
Blast Off looks up from his datapad for another casing of the room when this time... he spots one of the individuals he had been hoping to find. Ah. Violet optics study Shiftlock as she comes in, looking for that Decepticon badge he had noticed on her the cycle before. The one that got his interest. He slowly lifts his glass up for another sip, considering his next move. His little plan the other night didn't work, so perhaps a more direct course is required? Only problem is... it requires he get directly involved, and he still hates doing that.
When Arcee comes in, he recognizes her as well, though she wasn't wearing any badges the other night. There's a quick glance to see if she IS wearing a badge, then he pauses and waits to see what each does. If either looks at him, he'll give them a polite nod.
Arcee smiles shyly over at Blast Off. "Waiting for your friend, huh. Do you know what the best enerwine is here? There's just so many."
Blast Off glances over at Arcee and raises an optic ridge. "He's not... my friend, neccessarily, but... we may do some business together, yes." He looks down at his wine glass and lifts it to look at the pink femme again. "Yes, I do. I am rather a wine connoisseur, in fact. I would recommend Orion 3 Orchards if you can afford it, or perhaps a Galactic Vine."
He swishes the glass, then looks over to Shiftlock and asks Arcee, "I remember to speaking to her the other night. Do you know her?"
Shiftlock sits down and just puts her forehead down on the bartop.
Arcee smiles slightly. "Oh, thank you. Yes, I think I might be able to get one of those Orion Thr-- ....ohhh, wait. I missed a few 'zeroes' at the end of that price. Heheh, weeelllll...that one's going to have to wait. But you say Galactic Vine is good, too? I'll go ahead and try that."
After putting her order in with the 'tender, she notes Blast Off's question, then admits, "No, sir, I never met her before until last cycle. I don't know who she is, but I can tell she very much cares for her friend with the speeder problem."