Broken and Bad Humored

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Goa Slipstream
Goa's perching aside that clearing, down where he'd been last time his CPU went on the fritz... though that didn't look like the case this time. Perhaps a mechano fauve painter from Crystal City would find the view -- the dark violet of Cybertron, held against the orange-gold of unfortunate slag -- enchanting. More likely, however, they would run far away. Goa found it enthralling enough, apparently, as he seemed to be staring out into it with steepled hands.
Slipstream figured that there was a small chance she'd find Goa down here after her guard duty was done. She moves next to him, saying nothing for a time as she tries to figure out why he's staring down that bubbling yellow metal in front of him.
Goa's decidedly not zoned out -- His eyes follow the initial sound of the seeker descending, and he continues to track her with his face until he's staring upward to the side. Once Slipstream seems done moving, he looks back out to the view. He says nothing for long clicks, finally providing a quiet "Hmm?"
Slipstream looks down toward you, the yellow of the area lighting up her face in a dramatic way. Dancing over the black, the light purple. She studies you a few moments, like she's trying to read your posture, "Thinking?" she finally asks.
Goa is sitting up. Chest out, dignified, poised; even so, there is a twinge of discomfort to it, like he's not sure what to do with his shoulders. "How many places did you check?" His optics dim, hands fidget. "Yes. ... Just Cubicron."
Slipstream crouches down, balancing on the front section of her feet. Forearms draping over the raised section of her lower legs, wings flexing just slightly back to maintain her balance. "I checked the entire base." she replies, looking at your dim optics.
Goa's optics blink back to bright upon learning this, and he turns his face back to Slipstream with a look of concern. "... why? I figured you'd assume I went back to Cubi."
Slipstream replies simply, "Because you wouldn't leave without being certain your friend would be there and you would have the payment he'd need. That and I have this feeling you don't want Firestorm to know who her creators were for your own reasons. Am I right?"
Goa shrinks away slightly from the wall of dialogue. If Slipstream's eyes were there, she'd notice the shifting in the grooves on his helmet as he laid back invisible antennae. "Uhh..." His eyes flicker, but maintain their hue. "... I... I don't care if she knows. I just don't want her to get off on a side trail, that's all." He tilts his helmet down, grinding the crest into his palm. The scythes at his back flinch in place, then droop again. "... I suppose it's her prerogative. But I have a responsibility to live what I've done down." He adds, suddenly, "With help or not."
Slipstream watches that body movement carefully, then she reaches out to put a hand on your knee and tells you. "Does she know about your involvement yet Goa? And if not, are you going to tell her?" a pause, then adding, "You do realize it really isn't your fault that someone took that energon and used it on Cybertronians.. that you don't have to live with that sort of guilt." she cocks her head, trying to look in the optics. "I share your concern about her knowing. But there is little either of us can do to dissuade her."
"Oh, she knows, alright. I figure that's why she puts up with me." Goa eyes the hand on his knee, tracing it and looking up again. He stares distantly, delving into old memories -- beginning to grimace before returning to the present. "I could've done more. Been more cognizant. Blown up the whole slagging thing, ended it before it got so bad."
Slipstream holds your gaze, but can tell you aren't quite with her for awhile there. "Gooey if you had known what you knew now you'd be precognitive and last I checked there isn't one in the whole of the Cybertronian race." she states matter of factly, shifting out of her crouch she kneels next to you, "All you can do is try to make it better, if that is what will make you feel less guilty about it."
"So, what I'm doing is..." He smirks, personality returning. "That's not even why I'm down here. You're right, though. Directive one, don't give Firestorm such a hard time." An aged, slag-speckled support creaks as the mech balances his back against it. "Ah, but to be a fresh, unassuming soldier. Problems, problems..."
Slipstream sees that familiar smirk and nods to the reply, "So if you are not down here thinking about Cubicron and Firestorm, then why are you down here Gooey. Share your problems with me?" she asks, reaching up to stroke a hand along your upper arm. "You know you can talk to me about anything."
"Anything? Even prospective paintjobs?" Goa holds up his unmolested arm, transforming the spray painting extension into place. "When did that happen?"
Slipstream eyes that extension and shakes her head, "Only if you kept my colors the same, then yes anything." she smiles then tells you, "It happened when I knew that I had feelings for you Goa. Or wasn't that kiss we shared enough of a hint?"
Goa's face huddles toward his neck somewhat as he shifts his hand back onto his arm. "Feelings." He looks like he's fighting off the nervousness now, with a more gentle smile. "I picked up on that. I just didn't know that inspired saintly patience." Looking down bashfully, he finally stops avoiding the question. "Seems like the moment I start... mmm, what were the words... caring about my life? My rusted hide?" The edge of his arm guard taps on his chin thoughtfully, "Every ounce of Cybertron pulls me back."
Slipstream isn't sure what to make of the huddling, the nervousness, but the smile seems to calm her worries a bit. "It can Gooey." to answer the patience section of your words, "And even if you don't care about your life, your hide.. I do care and I'm going to do all I can to keep you around." she lowers her hand to the hand on your arm, "Are you saying you are afraid of feeling anything?"
Goa seems to be forcing himself not to try to stare at Slipstream, her hands, and the environment all at once -- he ends up just shutting his optics off. "I was talking about duty..." One of his bronze hands meets hers. "Yes. Someone knows what you feel, where you feel, how you tick, you're weaker for it. Exploitable."
Slipstream takes your hand, squeezing fingers into your palm. "Who knows that would exploit me Gooey?" she asks.
Goa turns his head off to one side, trying to hide the unwilling baring of his teeth, the fear. That was so long ago... a holdover from a different time and place. "Hmm." He whirrs and resettles himself, frozen in thought for a time, before simply resting his chin across the femme's shoulder.
Slipstream frowns a hint at you turn your head away and seem to bare your teeth.. or grimace. Then you rest your chin on her shoulder. So she moves her free hand up to stroke your helm along the groove area. "Maybe I took this too fast for you.. is that what this is really about Goa?" she asks softly.
Goa mumbles. "I've been stuck on a rock by myself for a thousand vorns. You think anything /isn't/ too fast for me?" He shudders.
Slipstream replies in a whisper near your audio, "I think being stuck there with organics and few Cybertronians to chat with has affected you in a way you may not even want to admit even to yourself." she kisses the side of your helm, "If you are afraid.. to feel.. I understand. Just know I care and will be your friend."
Goa moves both his arms around Slipstream in what initially appears to be an embrace -- then he just drapes them over her back, moving one to tap one point of his helmet like he would his chin. "You know." He sounds much more animate. "Part of the reasons I joined the Decepticons was because my friends tended to try to kill me and I thought I'd just let them get it out of their system faster. Military and all." His body lurches in a chuckle, though the sound coming from his vocals is faint.
Slipstream rocks back a little as you lean into her, then straightens as your helm taps to a wing. Her hands move around to stroke at the back of your helm, speaking soothingly, "I guess you must have thought I was the same when we got off to the start that we did. It's out of my system though, I wouldn't kill you."
Goa emanates a rumbling purr, falling otherwise silent for a little while. Eventually he sits up like he was before, though more hunched-over and relaxed now. "How well do you know Firestorm?"
Slipstream replies, "Not that well. She's a bit of a tease. Should I know her better?"
Goa snorts, amused. "Tease?" He leans back on the support behind him once more. "You both tolerate me. Just curious if there's some kind of femme conspiracy I should know about."
Slipstream nods, "She asked me what I thought about you and for some reason she commented about 'so that's what they call it these days'... so I thought maybe you told her something." then a shake of her head, "No femme conspiracy. We just enjoy your company. At least you pay attention and want to learn from us. Most mechs wouldn't."
Goa quirks his helmet forward and aside, smiling connivingly. "That depends. What did you tell her?"
Slipstream frowns, not quite meeting your gaze, "That I kissed you. She thought it was funny."
Goa just chuckles deeply and dives in to grab a peck on the seeker's frowning lips. "That's because it is."
Slipstream looks confused, "Why?"
Goa locks the crest of his helmet against hers, fixing his optics in front of Slipstream's with no other place to look. "They don't program you seeks with a sense of humor anymore, do they?" His hands feel out the contour of her chin. "Plenty of reasons. That, for one."
Slipstream's reply may shock you, "I don't suppose they do. Still doesn't really answer my question." she states. Not moving as you feel her chin. "That..?"
"No, not that." The mech tenses up as he suppresses presumably maniacal laughter. "Here, here, what you just said, that's another reason. You're a flier, I'm not -- that's pretty funny. And there's the part where I goaded you to incoherent rage a few times." Goa's optic ridges shift. "... when /were/ you brought online, anyway?"
Slipstream frowns a bit, "I still don't think it is funny." she says flatly, then gets to her feet. "I need to recharge, you have your little giggle fit and decide when you want to be serious."
Goa shakes his head incredulously, but can't, in turn, suppress looking a little bit hurt. "Carry on." He dims a little. "... thanks, Slippy."
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