The Show Must Go On

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uKLMYZlbIb8
The show must go on
Inside my heart is breaking
My make-up may be flaking
But my smile still stays on.
Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance
Another heartache, another failed romance
On and on, does anybody know what we are living for?
****************************************
The day has finally arrived. The day of the Big Debate- between Blast Off and Whirl, between Autobot and Decepticon ideals, between friends AND foes. When two people who are BOTH possibly... questionable or nomcommital about their cause are expected to defend it. For Blast Off, this has meant he has had to pour over Megatron's manifest. Memorize every line (or try to). Recite the lines in a mirror (while trying not to be distracted too much by that HANDSOME FELLOW in the reflection).
Now the event is about to begin. Arcee's arena is the backdrop to this battle zone of the mind. A refurbished soccer field, there is enough seating for a good sized crowd. However, security is tight, as might be expected. But those who truly want to be here can probably find a way. And as Sky Lynx promised, both Autobot and Decepticon have been allowed to enter unaccosted. There are guards, but both sides are represented tonight.... and hopefully the only cutting will be with words.
However- as many know, the wounds words leave can sometimes be deepest of all. Blast Off arrives and steps up to a podium where two microphones are placed. He looks out at the arena and sorts through datapads, trying to look unimpressed and even a bit /bored/. Him? Nervous? Especially about facing WHIRL of all people? No, not HIM. Of COURSE not.
Speaking of cutting, just in case things /do/ get to that point, Swift Blade is here with her swords to offer armed support as well as moral support. She settles herself someplace close to the shuttleformer, likely as close as she can without being in the way. This whole thing makes her a little nervous, less because of the debate's content and more about the debators. Some people might enjoy seeing a crack in the denial between the two of them, but she knows that sort of thing is dangerous, and that worries her. Still, she's hasn't been hiding her expression for millions of years to be caught without an impassive front this time.
Also rather close to the podium Blast Off is standing at, but definitely in sight of Blast Off, is Vortex. For morale support? Perhaps. With his red visor and plate over his face, an expression is very hard to read. His body language is also very neutral, really giving very little indication as to his impression of the circumstances.
THREE HOURS AGO:
Whirl sits in the confines of his room in the Decagon, barricading himself inside to keep from being interrupted during his research. He sits on his berth, datapads with various Autobot writings and propoganda scattered all over the place. He's put this off for so long, hoping that something would come along and keep the debate from happening, that he's just about run out of time to prepare. This is his last-ditch effort to gather enough material to not look like a complete fool at the podium. He clutches the sides of his head, the haunting reality of his situation starting to dawn on him now that it's closer than ever. "This sucks! I don't get ANY of this! How am I supposed to debate something I don't even care about!?"
Whirl rises to his feet, the clatter of datapads as they fall from his lap. He moves over to the far wall of his room and crouches down, claws prying open a panel just above the floor. Behind it lays his collection of illicit narcotics. Hey, he's not going to give that stuff up just because he's an Autobot. If anything, he needs it MORE now.
NOW:
Whirl staggers up to his podium, gripping it tight as if to keep himself from losing his balance. He looks over at Blast Off but just for a second as he quickly diverts his gaze. Looking out into the audience Whirl starts to regret the decision to take all those drugs.
Blast Off is aware of Swift Blade and Vortex's presence and is secretly glad for the support. Howeever, right now... his focus is on Whirl. When the cyclops appears, it takes everything the Combaticon has not to stiffen, or lean forward, or show any outward sign that he has anything but contempt for the other mech. When he'd really like to rush into his arms. But then they'd BOTH be slagged. Nope. Blast Off's head comes up a little, in an attempt to look even /haughtier/ than usual, and he deigns to give Whirl a little imperialistic sort of sniff. He's at least had a LOT of time to mentally prepare for this- with Vortex's help. Then it's back to his datapads, as he awaits the word to start.
That doesn't take too long to arrive. A slender orange femme strides up to the podium and raises her arms towards the crowd. (Probably someone scrounged up from Nyon.) "Thank you for coming today. Today- we will have a war of words, instead of blows. May this debate further the public's understanding, and may we all remain civil." She turns to look at Blast off and Whirl. "You may begin. Tell us, please, why are you an Autobot- or Decepticon?"
That doesn't take too long to arrive. A slender orange femme strides up to the podium and raises her arms towards the crowd. (Probably someone scrounged up from Nyon.) "Thank you for coming today. Today- we will have a war of words, instead of blows. May this debate further the public's understanding, and may we all remain civil." She turns to look at Blast off and Whirl. "You may begin. Tell us, please, why are you an Autobot- or Decepticon?"
Vortex remains still, staring intently at the two, watching every nuance carefully.
This is going to be interesting either way. Swift Blade offers Blast Off a slight smile of encouragement, nothing more. It's not generally her nature to be over the top in her expressions. Besides, this is /his/ time to be in the spotlight, not hers.
It's going to be really hard for Whirl to pretend that the mech standing at the other podium is nothing more than some snooty, uptight Decepticon jerkwad he gives no scrap about. Well.. okay, those words still describe Blast Off perfectly, but Whirl DOES give a scrap about him and that's what makes this so difficult. He tries to keep his optic off Blast Off as much as possible lest he catch himself staring too long.
As Whirl stares out into the crowd he's overcome with an overwhelming feeling of unease, the narcotics swimming through his system giving him the impression that everyone is staring at him, judging him. They are, obviously, that's why they're here but he can't help but feel like it's more than that, like every single person sitting in that audience knows about his dirty little secret. They all know, and that's why they're here. They know what he's done and they know what he continues to do. They know that he has no idea what he claims to be debating about. They know he's a fraud. They know. Whirl shakes his head and tightens his grip on the podium, fighting to keep those paranoid thoughts at bay.
The cyclops reaches over and taps his microphone with a claw to test it. The screech of feedback that rumbles through the speakers confirm that yes, it works. "Uhh, First off, I'd like to open my argument with this... Megatron's a chump."
Blast Off considers the question, rummaging through the datapads for a bit to delay things and allow him a little extra time to think. But eventually he places the datapads down and looks at the announcer. "Why am I a Decepticon?" He straightens and looks out at the assembled crowd, partly because that means he doesn't have to look at Whirl and partly because, despite assurances, he's still not convinced this isn't a big trap. So far, so good though. He glances at Swift Blade and Vortex but is soon listenign to the familiar voice of Whirl.
Snooty? Jerkwad? Uptight? Indeed, those words are probably accurate. And Blast Off seems to fit that description as he gives a mild sort of nonplussed expression to Whirl's comment. There's an annoyed little sigh. Part of the shuttle is thinking to himself- this is going to be WAY too easy. And part of him is worried if it is. For both their sakes. Blast off braces himself, then turns to look at Whirl. "Is that really the best you can do? Figures." He glares at Whirl, looking increasingly disgusted. To outward appearances, disgusted at Whirl. Only he knows the truth as he continues, "...This is all I can expect from someone like /you/."
Then he turns to answer the question. "No, Megatron is NOT a chump. He is a champion of the people. A champion of all who feel oppressed, disposed, and cast aside. All whose dreams are shattered because of arbittary decisions from above- meant to force us into a society with no privacy, no autonomy, no ability to think or act for ourselves without somoeone spying on or coercing us."
Swift Blade does know about Whirl's 'secret', but certainly doesn't think less of him for it...only for his inability to keep it under wraps, so to speak. But even then it's more of an awkward wishing that it wasn't so difficult rather than a moral imperitive against it. However, since she's not going to outright say that at this point in time, Whirl can't really know it, especially under the effects of the drugs. It's too dangerous for her to even show any sort of encouragement like she had shown Blast Off. So she simply watches him neutrally, avoiding a look of dismay as his opening lines are simply a denigration of Megatron with nothing to back it up.
Flicking a glance at Blast Off, she can only imagine how rotten he must be feeling as he rips into Whirl...figuratively of course. Her expression is slightly empathetic as she nods her approval for his words; he's doing well so far. She only hopes that he can hold up the charade without going too far overboard.
It was only a few cycles ago that Blast Off and Whirl were having a friendly conversation about this debate. They talked about their feelings on the matter, they talked about how they were both unsure how it was going to turn out, and most importantly, they talked about how they'll have to put on a face in front of the crowd. Whirl assurred Blast Off that anything he said was just for show and not to take it personally. Blast Off told him the same thing and they were both content with that. Unfortunately, Whirl will quickly learn that some things are easier said than done.
There's a flicker of Whirl's optic when Blast Off levels that look of disgust at him. He's seen that look before, back when they first met, but considering how close they've gotten since then.. well, it's a bit off-putting to see it again. It's just part of the act, Whirl tells himself. Don't get upset. Don't take it personally.
Whirl slams his claws on the podium with a loud CLANG. "Now wait just a damn astrosecond here! What do you mean 'someone like you'? You mean someone like an empurata?" He juts a claw in Blast Off's direction, pointing at him ever so rudely. "You got something against empuratas? Or maybe it's ALL the Decepticons that got something against people like me. The Autobots aren't perfect. No group ever is. But at least they are willing to overlook my history and allow me to be a part of something. What about the Decepticons, eh? Don't see too many empurata running around calling themselves a Decepticon, do ya? Don't see a whole lot of anything with the Decepticons. Just a lot of talk and a whole lot of nothing. Hell, even the Nyon rebels make more of an impact than your pathetic cause and all they got is some dork with a stupid paintjob and a handful of rejects."
Indeed, it is far easier to plan to shake off words like rain than it is to actually do so when the time comes and the words are real- and they sting like acid. Blast Off pulls back slightly as those claws slam down and the cyclops gestures at him. He has to work to remain calm as well... and despite his best intentions he can feel his circuitry heating up with anger. Anger- he needs it. especially after that look Whirl gave him as he put on the "disgusted" act. To do so makes him neauseous... he despises himself, but he pushes on anyway.
The shuttleformer gives his best haughty, superior look as he waves a hand away. "Yes, I mean someone like YOU. Look at those /claws/. Look at /you/." He pauses, obstensibly to consider his next words, and not because he feels a bit sick saying this. "They are the ones who did this to you, and you would defend them? What do they hold over you?" The words cut- it feels like they cut him even as he cuts Whirl with them. "And I disagree, the Decepticons are far more inclusive than the Autobots ever will be. The Decepticons bring in people of all castes, kinds, and job types. Unlike the Autobots, they do not try to hold a person down and place them in some tight box with no way out and no way to ever improve oneself, or better oneself."
He bristles a little at the mention of the Nyon rebels and /impacts/. "Do not be ...deceived. The Decepticons are making impacts even now- and will continue to do so. We are a rising tide that is gaining momentum and support even as we flush out the corruption YOU still defend."
The swordsfemme could gladly throttle whoever came up with this idea. This debate seems less about the ideals and more about making the two mechs miserable. While the former would be laudable, the latter is bothersome to Swift Blade.
Whirl's appearance is a subject Blast Off warned him was going to come up. He told him that he was going to have to be cruel and that he was going to make it convincing. Blast Off succeeded, he is coming off as EXTREMELY convincing. Convincing enough that Whirl starts to forget that this is all a facade to keep up appearances. The comments cut him deep, deeper than he thought they were going to. It's one thing to hear those words coming from a stranger's mouth, it's quite another to hear it from someone close to you. Someone you've shared your most innermost self with. Someone who held you in their arms while you both mourned. Someone you love.
Something snaps inside of Whirl. He's hurting right now and all he wants to do is hurt back, to lash out in the worst way possible, anything to lessen the pain he's feeling. "Who are you to question my choice to defend the Autobots? Who are YOU to defend the Decepticons?" He turns his head to glare intensely at the Combaticon. "Isn't it true that you had an intimate relationship with an Autobot? One that defected from the very movement you feebishly attempt to defend? Apparently the Autobots are only corrupt as long as you aren't trying to plug into them. Speaking of corruption, who the hell are the Decepticons to flush it out? You have butchers working in your medbays, kidnapping people and performing sick experiments on them, if you could even call them that. It's more akin to perverted torture more than anything. And for what? To convince the victim that you're the good guys?"
Whirl keeps his optic locked on Blast Off, claws clenching tight. "I don't need to remind you of all this though, do I? You know all about this. You know all about this because this victim I speak of is none other than your special Autobot friend. You know the one.. Shiftlock. You let them take her, and you let them tear her apart."
The aggression Whirl is showing gets a subtle reaction from the rotary who tenses, raising a little, pausing, and quickly sitting back down again. Vortex takes a moment to glance around for some sort of mediator to get them back on track, and of course, he is carefully watching any posted security. VERY carefully.
Blast Off is despising himself right now, but he maintains appearances. He knows Megatron is watching, Sky Lynx is watching, smelt, the whole WORLD may be watching. And all those rumors about his relationship with Whirl- the one they're desperately trying to hide- are why he keeps the facade going. They MUST convince the world that they truly are enemies and nothing else. Even if every word burns the shuttle as they leave his lip plates. Then Whirl strikes back- and all Blast off can do is stare in numb shock as the cyclops brings...THAT up. He freezes, watching in a sort of daze as the litany goes on... and drags on seemingly forever. After awhile, it's almost like he's not even INSIDE himself anymore, he's just watching from the side as this happens to someone else. And as Whirl finishes, the shuttleformer can only stare at him for a long moment in silence.
When he finally answers, his voice is almost flat, quiet, slowly raising in tone as he goes. "....How /dare/ you bring that up. How VULGAR. How UNCOUTH. ...She... she was someone I knew /before/ she became an Autobot. Someone special. Someone....." He has to pause and glance away, "Someone I tried to help. And do you know WHY she became an Autobot?" His stare returns to Whirl. "Because she was FORCED at GUNPOINT by an Autobot- by BLURR- to come with him so she could be /brainwashed/ into becoming one of YOU. Maybe THAT is your secret. Every last ONE of you is probably brainwashed to support the Autobot cause!!!" He leans forward, hands digging into the podium as he does so. Violet optics flash as he hisses, "And YOU have no right to speak to me about what happened to Shiftlock! You don't think I know how she left the safety of the Decepticons in the first place? It's because she met YOU. She was intimate with YOU- you, who beat Megatron when he was /unarmed/ in a /cell/. It was the day she met you that is the day she lost her way!"
And then he knows he's said too much, and he stops, optics flickering. His gaze never leaves Whirl as he freezes like that a moment, wishing he could just take all this back. But he can't.... and surely if nothing else, the world must be convinced these two truly hate and despise one another. The question is how badly have they fallen themselves? Blast Off finally leans back, one hand going to brush the heat shields of his arm as if there was some dust there, still feeling quite numb. He cycles vents for a moment. And then he turns his head to look ...somewhere in the crowd. "But I...I digress. This... is not the point. The point..." Oh Primus, what was the point? "The point is.... the Decepticons- Megatron- offer something far better than the Senate and the Autobot's treachery."
Swift Blade inhales sharply, though quietly. Looking around, she's almost hoping someone starts something...it would be better than having these two mechs continue. If this was a trap, that seems like not so bad compared to the ploy this must be to tear the two apart. She'd warned Blast Off several times that he was treading dangerous waters, but he's always been so determined to do what he wants. It's a frustrating quality, yet one she admires. She doubts he's paying attention, but she makes sure that she keeps her optics on him, hoping to bouy him up the best she can in the face of Whirl's words.
She moves a little closer to Vortex, knowing at least that he'll be keeping an optic on his brother; she wants to be close enough that he can warn her or nudge her to action if he sees a threat that she misses. Not that she's getting in his personal space or anything. But if there's a problem, it's better to Iput forth a united front, yes?
At this moment she's very glad she's not organic; likely she would be feeling quite ill at this point by watching all this unfold. She has to stop herself from turning away or shaking her head; it's hard enough for them to be up there without her making any movement that could look like a withdrawl of support. And if Blast Off has to crawl into a bottle of drink afterwards, well, she'll be there to make sure he stays safe...pick up the pieces so to speak.
The closeness of SWift Blade does not go unnoticed by Vortex, but the mech is constantly watching his surroundings carefully, but most important. However, she would notice his countenance falling and a tightly gripped fist. It's subtle, but the mech looks frustrated. Even so, the mech is carefully watching the debators body language for signs of it going from mincing words to mincing one another. When Blast Off gets the debate back on point, his hand relaxes. The mech lifts his chin, gazing at Blast Off intensely, as if he could somehow lend the mech some of his own composure.
The closeness of Swift Blade does not go unnoticed by Vortex, but the mech is constantly watching his surroundings carefully, but most importantly, for any nuancec or cue that could lead to a physical altercation. The gray rotary's countenance falls as he clenches a fist, an air of frustration about him. When Blast Off gets the debate back on point, his hand relaxes. The mech lifts his chin, gazing at Blast Off intensely, as if he could somehow lend the mech some of his own composure. If the mech weren't wearing a face plate, he would be mouthing some words to Blast Off to hopefully jog his memory of some of the content he'd helped the shuttle memorise.
As soon as those words left Whirl's non-existant mouth, he immediately regretted it. It makes him sick to his fuel tank to think that he just used Shiftlock to hurt Blast Off like that.. and for what? To try and gain some footing in this mockery of a debate? To make him feel bad because he couldn't control him, because he forgot this wasn't supposed to be personal? He can only stand there, his glare weakening as Blast Off gives his rebuttal. He's not sure how this could get any worse.
And then Blast Off brings up the reason why Shiftlock was ever kicked out of the Decepticons.
The Combaticon might as well have just stabbed Whirl in the gut because that's pretty much what it felt like to hear THOSE words from HIS mouth. It hurts even more because everything he said was true, and Whirl knows it. Shiftlock was a Decepticon when he first met her, and by the end of their encounter she was cast out of the Decepticons and onto the streets and it was all because of him. Everything that happened to her after that was because of him. Blurr forcing her into the Autobot was because of him. Shiftlock being abducted and tortured by the Decepticons was because of him. Shiftlock's death.. it was because of him.
Anything Blast Off says after that goes completely unheard by Whirl as he is far too consumed by the overwhelming guilt and despair the shuttleformer's words have caused him. For a moment he is completely silent and unmoving, claws wrapping tight around the edges of his podium. His body then begins to shake, claws clenching tight around the podium and leaving deep indentations in their wake. "W-why..? Why would you.. /How/ could you?"
Whirl is suddenly running towards Blast Off, optic burning bright with rage. His arms are swinging, claws poised to rip the Combaticon to shreds as soon as he's within reach. "I'LL KILL YOU!"
-Combat- Whirl hits Blast Off with a melee attack!
The gripping of the podium with such intensity was enough for Vortex to foresee an assault. His weapons go online, and he nudges SWift Blade. He says nothing, but nods his head towards Blast Off. She would hear the hum of a laser being powered up. However, Vortex knows better than to shoot on just instinct. That's security's job. He has to wait, unfortunately, for Blast Off to be struck, before he can get involved and claim defense of another. The very moment Whirl's claws are slicing through the iar at Blast Off, Vortex whips out a laser rifle and fires.
"GET BACK TO YOUR PODIUM!"
Vortex allows the security to do any restraining. Or Swift Blade. But even so, Vortex is moving around the seating so that he can move freely when necessary.
-Combat- Vortex misses Whirl with a ranged attack!
The lesson here, boys and girls, is that love really is close to hate; both two different sides to the same coin of passion. It doesn't take more than Vortex's nudge before Swift Blade is already in action. While she's not there in time to stop Whirl from attacking, she is in time to throw herself at him in an attempt to pull him away before /too/ much damage is done. She says nothing to him; words are pointless at this juncture. The only thing that matters is ending this before someone else decides to do it. Hopefully the cyclops is so focused on Blast Off and his own internal anger that he doesn't see her coming...
-Combat- Swift Blade hits Whirl with a melee attack!
The worst part is, Blast Off /knows/ he might just as well of stabbed Whirl in the guts with that statement. He knows how much it's worried the cyclops, he remembers trying to convince him it wasn't his fault, hugging the mech and trying to soothe his spark from the terror of that kind of guilt. And now he's sliced open the cyclop's spark with that vicious cut... and he can feel Whirl bleed as he does. He can feel himself bleed as he does. But he was convinced it was the logical thing to say at the time- every Decepticon knows about Whirl and Megatron, and most know that Shiftlock was thrown out because she interfaced with Whirl. He HAD to bring that up. He HAD to. Right?
And then Whirl reacts. First there's the unmoving tension, and Blast Off already knows things are horribly wrong. And then Whirl- the mech he loves- lunges at him with the words *I'll kill you* and Blast Off can only watch him come. He freezes as the cyclops swings those claws Blast Off has always liked so much- and this time there's nothing pleasant or exciting when they tear into his flimsy shuttle armor. The Combaticon is knocked backward from the blows- and now there's real "blood" spilling as well. He falls back in a bit of shock, arms scrambling to shove Whirl away and stop the assault as circuits fray and heat shields crumble. "Get..OFF!!! Get OFF!" Landing on his aft, the sniper suddenly produces his ionic blaster and points it straight at Whirl. Time seems to stop as he stares up at the larger, enraged mech. He doesn't want to do this. He said he would never shoot Whirl again if he could help it. But if they're going down in flames- might as well make it an inferno. He /fires/ at an arm right as the claw comes swinging down.
Vortex and Swift Blade spring to action, and so too do some of the nearby guards. The announcer comes running up, "Please! Calm down! This is supposed to be an exchange of words, not weapons!"
If Whirl trying to murder Blast Off with his bare claws in public view of an entire stadium's worth of spectators isn't enough to convince everyone that they hate eachother, nothing will. This is what they both wanted, right? To throw people off their trail? To put an end to those rumors that threaten to get them killed? This is what they both wanted, but this.. this probably isn't how they wanted it to happen.
Blast Off's energon splashes against Whirl's body as he slices through the shuttleformers more delicate armor, the purple hue complimenting the blue of his own armor almost a little too perfectly. So consumed by the feelings of anger, pain, and guilt is Whirl that he's unable to control himself, powerless to stop his body from lashing out at Blast Off again. He doesn't even realize Vortex took a shot at him and he certainly can't hear the words the other helicopter is shouting at him. In fact, he can't hear or see anyone except Blast Off right now, he's got rage-induced tunnelvision at the moment.
There's a flash from the muzzle of Blast Off's firearm and the registration of pain as the round punches right through Whirl's arm. It causes him to hesitate, just long enough for Swift Blade to jump into action and pull him away from the Combaticon. Good thing too, because Whirl probably wouldn't have stopped otherwise. The mech struggles against the seeker, arms outstretched and claws snapping madly. "WHY!?" It's all Whirl can shout and it's a pretty valid question. Why did this happen? Why did it have to be him and Blast Off? Why did he have to lose his cool and bring up Shiftlock in the first place? Why?
When he wants to, VOrtex can move fairly quickly. While Blast Off is knocked on his aft and Swift Blade is entangled, keeping Whirl from continuing his assault, Vortex had put away his gun and gone straight for Blast Off. When the haze of intense emotions allows for tunnel vision to subside, Blast Off would see Vortex standing there, his hand out stretched to him, an offer to help him back to his feet. This gesture is much more symbolic in the given circumstances of the gray rotary's intentions. There are no words.
Swift Blade isn't about to let go; not yet. "Because this is what war does," is her answer to Whirl, though her tone is sad rather than harsh. Her hold is firm without being cruel. Her mouth presses into a thin line, optics snapping with anger. "I think this debate is over," she says loudly enough so that her words will carry to all those nearby. Pulling she tries to move Whirl even further away from the complications. Although it is not her intention to 'look good' for the press, her calm demenaor and her non-lethal force probably make a nice counterpoint to a lot of the bad press the Decepticons get.
Blast Off tried to make this all a game, in a way. Tried to make it into something palatable, something he and Whirl could live with. A little injoke they would share with each other while the rest of the world was fooled by this show they'd been forced to put on. They agreed that they'd see how nasty they could be to each other- just as part of this game. Only a game. For some fun later. But right now there is little "fun" to be found here as the shuttleformer clutches a chunk of armor hanging off his shoulder and tries to stifle the bleeding. This isn't much of a "game" as as the guards move in to help Swift Blade ensure Whirl backs off and that Blast off puts away his weapon. He's just struggling back to his feet when Vortex offers that hand. The shuttleformer looks up at him. Normally he'd scoff and insist on getting back up without help. But he senses this might not be the time. The shuttle's black hand reaches up and accepts the offer, getting back to his feet with a brief nod to the other Combaticon.
Then he watches as Swift Blade tries to guide Whirl away as the cyclops cries out *why*. Blast Off's spark breaks as... once again... all he can do is watch as Whirl agonizes. He can't try to comfort him, he can't say how sorry he is. He can only watch. And not even that- he has to keep on with this accursed show.
The announcer nods to Swift Blade and looks out at the crowd. "I think that... concludes our debate. Is there anything either of you would like to say in closing?"
Brushing himself off, Blast Off looks to the crowd, the announcer and the video cameras recording all this. His voice is flat by this point. "There you have it. When the Autobots cannot counter with logic- then they simply use force. The Decepticons... stand for something better. They stand for choice, for pursuit of dreams. A future where... your life isn't just mapped out for you before you even step off the assembly line."
Vortex' grip is firm and supportive as he helps his comrade up to his feet. He glances at Blast Off's wound, but is going to afford BOTH of them enough dignity not to fuss over it. He stands like a silent guard; a last line of defense should Swift Blade and the rest of the security somehow fail to contain Whirl's rage. Or, if someone were to take the chaos of the situation as an opportunity to bring harm to Blast Off. Vortex is there. Close. Aware. Watching.
"Well done... I know that was difficult," Vortex says very quietly to Blast Off as he makes his ending statement. He continues to scan the audience, the security, and anyone else. When he feels well and certain, he stares at Whirl. Beneath his faceplate, Vortex is grinning a venomous grin. Well done indeed.
Because this is what war does. This isn't even war yet, this hasn't even begun to describe a proper war.. yet it's already taken so much away from Whirl. He's already lost a friend to this 'war,' and he's about to lose another. Maybe not with a physical death, but perhaps an emotional one. What will happen when it really happens? When the planet inevitably breaks out into a full-scale war? How much more will Whirl lose?
The cyclops struggles against Swift Blade, his efforts finally coming to a halt once security steps in to help restrain him. There's no use in fighting it, this is over and it went about as well as he expected: he made a fool of himself and the very cause he was supposed to be defending. There's another glance towards Blast Off while he's being guided away, Whirl watching as Vortex helps Blast Off up and gives him the opportunity to end his argument on a perfect note. Then Vortex gives him that look and Whirl can see that scrap-eating grin under that faceplate. The others might not see it, but Whirl has spent more than his fair share of time reading Blast Off's expressions under a faceplate just like that so he knows /exactly/ what it's hiding.
Wait. Wait.. what did Blast Off say the other day when they were in the bar? Didn't he say that Vortex knew about their relationship?
Whirl knows that Vortex is going to use this against him, use it as an example for why Blast Off should never trust anyone outside of his team. He's going to make sure the two of them never recover from this. "N-No! It's not.. This isn't.." Oh Primus, he's an idiot. He's such an idiot. This was supposed to be a joke. This wasn't supposed to happen.
Whirl jerks away from Swift Blade and pushes himself past the gaurds while they're distracted. He makes a break for it, running back towards the podium, back towards Blast Off. He wants to make things right, he /has/ to. Unfortunately, security is quick and they're far less lenient this time around. Whirl is tackled to the ground by two guards, both of them pinning him to the ground while a third steps in to yank his arms behind his back and slap a pair of cuffs around his wrists. It's only temporary, safety measure to keep what appears to be an insane empurata from murdering a classy, well-spoken shuttle.
Swift Blade manages to give Whirl a faint squeeze on the arm before they're submerged in more security. She worries for the mech, but she's not in a place to do anything for him. She freezes when Whirl breaks away, but the security is too much for him and he's further subdued. This whole thing is a mess, and she only hopes that there's at least a handful of Autobots with a shred of decency or else Whirl may reach the point of no return from insanity...if he hasn't already.
Her position as a Decepticon has bound her hands, so she does all she can do for now: return to Blast Off's side and make sure he's okay. "Perhaps we'd better get you someplace to have those cuts looked at," she says, trying to sound clinical and not fussy. "The debate has finished itself." She can't help but frown.
She looks to Vortex, hoping the mech will back her up in this; she realizes she doens't know him well, but he MUST have some concern for Blast Off's well being since they've been team-mates for so long.
"The femme is right, Blast Off. There is nothing left to do here. It's best for you to go somewhere where you can tend to your wounds." Vortex glances at Whirl discretely again, then back to Blast Off. "All of them," he adds on a softer note. Vortex lifts a hand as if to touch Blast Off's shoulder, to turn him, to guide him, to comfort him, but before he makes contact, the mech withdraws. He gives SWift Blade a sideglance, his expression well hidden as usual. "Come on."
Blast Off is numb and in shock, but he *is* a (former) high society mech and he knows how to carry himself with decorum and dignity. And he uses all his willpower to do just that right now, giving Vortex a measured, polite nod of the head. The picture of a refined gentlemech. There's another small brush of a hand as he flicks away some trickling fuel, then turns to... see Whirl rushing toward him again- only to get tackled by gaurds. The shuttleformer stops everything to stare as his spark breaks yet again- but he's gone this far. He may break his spark- or Whirl's- but he's not breaking his act. The show must go on, after all. Or this will have all been for nothing. He just hopes it's not "nothing" he'll have in the end.
Blast Off watches Whirl get handcuffed- and he turns away, nose to the air. Yes, the classy shuttle seems to have had quite enough of the crazy empurata. His aloof, unconcerned look is certainly convincing as he ignores the mech. It hides the feeling of sick numbness inside.
As Swift Blade approaches, he nods. "Well... yes, I think this "debate" is quite over." He adjusts the worst cut, where armor is barely holding on, and look over as Vortex approaches as well. His look of haughtiness flickers a little as the other Combaticon mentions *all* his wounds, and he stares blankly a moment. Yes... all his wounds. The visible ones - the cuts- will be by far the easiest to repair. The other wounds? Those... he's not so sure. It takes all his willpower not to look back at Whirl, to see if he is at all Ok in any way. He keeps his back turned to the person he loves. These wounds may take a long time to heal.
"...Yes, we should go." He begins to step away as the guards deal with Whirl and the announcer makes a hasty finishing piece for the crowd and the cameras. "Well, folks, thank you for coming. That was certainly... uh... interesting. We apologize for the abrupt ending there, but... we hope this has been enlightening."