Less Rosy, More Blue

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Vos, the city of the massively arrogant fliers. The mechs who think they're better than everyone else simply because they can fly. Pff, what sophomoric thinking! How much more sophomoric is it than thinking you're better than everyone else simply because you're faster? Probably not much. But of course, someone like Blurr isn't one to meditate on such things.
At the moment, he's perched on a narrow ledge near the roof of one of Vos' many towering skyscrapers, his optics searching an adjacent building for one particular space-worthy frametype. It makes sense that Blast Off would be here--after all, how could he possibly stay away? The speedster absently wonders to himself how many -others- are here...how many of these Vosians are secretly Decepticons. Quietly, he continues scanning for his target...
Speaking of arrogant fliers, Blurr is indeed in luck. Blast Off is currently in town. The Combaticon shuttleformer doesn't make it to Vos as much as he'd like- he has to be careful, after all. Years of a bounty on his head taught him that. He isn't sure it's still active, but he's also a Decepticon, which can mean trouble from the authorities anyway. But Vos is hard to resist. It's *cultured*, quite unlike Kaon where he finds himself stuck much of the time. 
 
At this very moment, Blast Off makes his way to a prestigious wine shop. A place only the well-to-do can afford to go- just his kind of place. Of course, the money he is about to use is most likely gained through mercenary work or something equallly questionable.... but he has it, and there's nothing he'd rather spend it on. Violet optics scan the area for trouble as he makes his way closer to the shop, his Decepticon badge hidden away for now. After all that rather UNCOUTH business with Scorponok bullying his way to Decepticon leadership, he's gonna need a drink.
Oh, but of course! The refined engex shop. Blast Off couldn't possibly resist that place for long! Blurr smirks to himself as he spots the Combaticon. Quickly and deftly, he slips forward, then leaps down a tier to get in closer to the specialty shop. Approaching a window near the rear, he peers in to continue watching his target.
Blast Off scans the area but manages to miss spotting Blurr just yet. One final look-see, and the Combaticon pushes the door open and steps inside. He seems to puff up in importance as soon as he enters, blending in and looking just like any of the other snobby customers. This is where he feels right at home. Not with those Kaon riffraff. The clerk gives him a glance but since he seems to be carrying himself as if he's one of the /important/ people, the clerk goes back to stocking. Blast Off walks up to a row of fine wine and begins perusing the racks. Hmmm. Choices, choices.
Blurr watches him with mild amusement. Ha, just look at the way he puffs his chassis out, wonder how he learned to do that. Must be some stupid trick of his vent systems that he figured out. Is that what he spends his time doing? Blurr wouldn't be surprised.
He takes out a small phosphex torch and quietly cuts a hole in the window just below the top of the frame that is barely large enough for him to get through. Slipping down into the shop, he ducks behind a large rack full of bottled engex.
Blast Off is happily going through wine. "Ah... this is an excellent year," He pauses to glance at a passersby, "You really don't see this vintage very often." There's a small exchange and the patron nods and leaves to continue shopping, while looking just a bit impressed- which seems to make the shuttle feel even more in-his-element. Soon he's got two bottles of wine in hand and starts heading to the counter to purchase them, still pausing every now and then to admire something.
Blurr is really having a hard time keeping himself from laughing out loud at the shuttleformer. Seriously, does he even -realize- what he looks like? The speedster continues to lurk behind shelves and racks, darting to and fro, waiting for the right moment. A moment when most of the other patrons have either left or are in another part of the shop.
The moment when Blast Off is just about to head out himself, no doubt with several containers full of his favorite drinks. That is the moment when Blurr is found standing in the doorway, leaning casually against a decoration on the left side. "Going somewhere?"
Blast Off is VERY pleased with himself as he makes his purchases ... this is going to help SO much, especially in dealing with the chaotic mess that is Kaon right now. The shuttle isn't sure he likes his Scorponok at all. Hefting the packages in his arms, he is taking one last satisfied look around as he heads out the door- at least until he notices someone in the way. 
 
He HUFFs. "Do you /mind/, I-" Then he stops as he turns to see just WHO it is. Freezing, he just stands there in surprise for an astrosecond or two. Then there's a jerk of his arms as he instinctively wants to go for his gun- and then another pause as the fact that his arms are full makes that a bit difficult. Plus- fancy wine shop. Causing a fuss might not be the best idea right now. 
 
So instead he hisses, "//YOU//. Get out of my way."
"Yes, -me-!" Blurr grins mischievously, moving away from the decor to stand -directly- in front of the exit. "Excellent observation, Blast Off! I figured I'd find you here sooner or later, after all it's one of your favorite places in the world isn't it?"
"Soooo, anyway how've you been, mech?! Long time no see, right? How's life without Megatron, how's Kaon and stuff?"
The Combaticon's great day is looking less rosy by the astrosecond and more blue- a particularly annoying shade of it. Optics narrowing, Blast Off lets out a soft huffff. "I'm amazed you have the mental facilities to even *learn* the kinds of places I like to go. I'd have thought all your processing power goes to your /feet/." Another HUFFF, louder this time. 
 
There's a flicker in his optics as he considers the best course of action, but given that he's still reluctant to drop his packages or bring his weapon out *here* he remains where he is. For now. "Kaon is... *Kaon*. The same grimy place it ever was. Now *back off* and go annoy someone else- surely there's some race fans to go preen for?"
"Good! I'm glad I amaze you!" Blurr just keeps smirking. "I would hate to be predictable, predictable can be problematic a lot of times." At that HUFFF, the speedster makes a mock pout face. "Aww, that's no way to treat your old friend! C'mon! Tell me about your cycles in Kaon. Now that Megatron's gone, -someone's- go to be running the show. Is it Starscream?"
Ah, but Blast Off doesn't understand! There's no time for preening in front of racing fans any more. It doesn't -look- like the speedster is planning any violence he doesn't really -need- to prepare to make a move in any visible way, either.
Those optics just keep narrowing. "You only *amaze* me with your arrogance, Autobot." (Pot meet kettle.) "And yes, you are *very* predictable. You're going to parade around, puff and preen and proclaim any number of inanities, then prove yourself to be the uncouth ruffian you really are. Someone with no *class*." Haughty sniff. 
 
The grip on his packages tighten. Blast Off manages a sharp little snort at the further inquiries about Kaon. "Like I plan to tell you *anything.* If you're so keen to find out, go there yourself. Check it out. Parade around over there too. The Decepticons will give you a warm welcome, I *promise*." Blast Off glances briefly around the shop, still keeping at least half an optic on Blurr the whole time. "What about you? Long time no see. How's Iacon? I'd visit myself but you know, so busy. Can't find the time."
Ha, predictable? Blurr will give him -predictable-! "If I'm so predictable, then why are you so -amazed-? It doesn't make any sense, does it?"
Abruptly, as soon as Blast Off starts to -partially- look away as he glances around the shop behind him, the speedster's techvolt is out of its subspace and discharged at the shuttleformer's legs, since much of his upper body was obscured by the crate of vintage engex. "Oh, and Iacon's great by the way! Thanks for asking!"
As soon as the weapon goes off, the shopkeeper jumps and desperately ducks behind some cover, terrified he'll turn into collateral damage.
And then- unpredictably- a weapon is fired right at Blast Off's legs. The Combaticon is on alert and wary, and no slouch as far as reaction time goes. But Blurr is blindingly fast and close by, and that does not put Blast Off at an advantage. He catches the movement and starts to jerk away, but the shot catches him right in a leg. *Huffff!* One leg still functions but the other is suddenly rather crippled, and he goes stumbling backwards. "Gahh!" One of the precious packages falls from his grasp and lands with a shattering of glass. 
 
THIS ticks him off. "YOU." Blast Off has no choice at that point but to drop the rest of the packages, trying to give them a soft landing as he does so- and bring his own ionic blaster from subspace. Still, he keeps one of the bottles in his other hand- the especially nice vintage. As the blaster comes up, he's aimed and fired almost immediately, even as he starts darting to the left- stumbling, really- ok floundering- to try and get some cover *and* shoot the blasted 'Bot. "In fact, come with me *right now*- I'll show you Kaon MYSELF! Wouldn't want to be IMPOLITE, after all!"
Yeah, predictable. Predict -that-. Blurr smirks triumphantly as Blast Off flounders for cover. "No no! Actually since you love space travel so much, I was thinking -I- could take -you- on a little trip to Luna-2! There's this great place there, called Garrus-1, you see. You really have to see it for youself, honestly!"
He flips and somersaults in and out of the blasts from the ionic weapon, though some of them manage to clip him in the side, causing some dents and scorch marks in his otherwise-pristine looking armor. As the Combaticon searches for cover, Blurr decides to try to -give- him some, right on top of him. He darts sideways, jamming a shoulder into a nearby shelf, attempting to knock it down on top of Blast Off and effectively trap him underneath a mountain of his own favorite thing in the world!
The Garrus-1 commment elecits a grumbling huff of Blast Off's engines, furthering even more shots from his blaster as he tries to hit the elusive Autbot. "So sorry to decline, but I will have to postpone your gracious offer- PERMENENTLY." He's just about to fire another shot, still stumbling towards cover- when Blurr shoves it right at him! 
 
Slag. The Combaticon freezes a moment, torn between GET AWAY and OH THE HUMANITY(?),WHAT ABOUT THE WINE??!! His crippled leg doesn't help any. His hands swing in front of him as the shelf falls down, knocking him back as it makes contact. He scrambles, trying to save as much of the wine as he can- but most falls with a shattering sound onto the floor. 
 
"YOUU!!" Now Blast off is just about howling his affront as he grunts with effort to keep the shelf from completely knocking him down, bracing on one knee and using his less-than-stellar strength to keep himself from being outright flattened. Finally, with effort, coated with some of the (broken) wine he so loves, he starts getting back up and turns to look for Blurr so he can try for another shot.
"C'mon Blast Off, don't you know when to give it up?" Blurr taunts. Seriously, this is a confined area--hardly the Combaticon's strong suit, -and- the Autobot managed to get the jump on him! He scales a pile of crates and leaps onto one of the storage racks near the ceiling, beginning to drop more crates down on top of the shelf the shuttleformer is already struggling to get out from under.
But while the speedster is up there, the shopkeeper, who had been cowering nearby--approaches Blast Off. He points to a distiller behind him that is full of high grade engex. "Hey--" he whispers. "You and I and him are the only ones in here...I don't know how he got here but I can fly, you can fly, so if you blow that distiller and set his place on fire, -he- won't have anywhere to go." Of course a shop like this was located on the upper tiers of Vos. Typical of Vosians, of course, to side with a fellow flier--perhaps even at the cost of the shop itself.
Blast Off stares at the shopkeeper in horror. "But... but all this fine *wine*!" He protests. "I can't..." 
 
Then another crate lands near his head, knocking the shelf down and causing him to fall back to a knee. "That DOES IT." With a rev of engines, the shuttleformer heaves the shelf away, swinging his ionic blaster up at Blurr. The shuttleformer keeps staggering along- this time towards a window. He mutters to the shopkeeper, "Such a shame your fine store was visited by such a *hooligan*! Some people have no appreciation for the finer things!" 
 
Even then, he spots one of the spilled wine bottles and stoops to grab it- somehow- even though he already holds one bottle. It's a skill- but this shuttle's definitely got what it takes! That natural agility has it's uses- though shame it wasn't enough to keep him from getting shot in the leg. Then he grabs another, julgging three at once. Getting closer to the door, his blaster is still aimed at Blurr. "I'll *give it up* the day you get smelted- which might be about now!" The Combaticon suddenly throws one of the bottles right at Blurr, trying to distract him as he swings his gun to the distiller. Firing, he leaps towards the window facing an immense cityscape strecthing out beyond and below.
"I know." The shopkeeper sighs. "But slag, I can replace it. Don't worry. This isn't my only store you know! What's this Autobot got against you, anyway?" He asks, as he prepares to fly himself.
Blurr just keeps firing the stun weapon in Blast Off's direction, a rapid salvo that doesn't seem to know when to stop. He ducks behind a cylindrical container when the Combaticon throws a bottle at him. It shatters, spilling its contents everywhere. 
And of course, with all that engex splattered about, when the distiller goes, the entire shop erupts into flames, engulfing the speedster in smoke and fire. Is he gone? But there's not much time to think about that. The shopkeeper has already taken off into the skies, and Blast Off probably ought to do the same before he gets -himself- damaged!
Blast Off does NOT want to be hit with that stun gun. NOPE. No way. Been there, done that, never again. So somehow, despite his injury, the Combaticon ducks and dodges while maintaining his grip on his engex. A slower Cybertronian would be in trouble, but Blast Off stays on his "toes". 
 
One last glance to the shopkeeper. "He's an IDIOT, is what. He seems to want nothing more than to make my life *miserable*..." He mutters more to himself than anyone, "Not that it needs any help in that regard."
 
The shot connects. "Let's see if you can outrun *that*, Blurr. It wuill teach you for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!" There isn't much time otherwise. Blast Off plunges out the window, shifting the two bottles to subspace as he transforms into a hefty space shuttle and roars off.
Blurr doesn't make any reply to Blast Off's gloating, but as the Combaticon shifts into shuttle mode and starts to fly off, the speedster leaps from the roof of the shop where he had just climbed out from the inferno and attempts to jump right on -top- of him or at the very least grab a hold of his ailerons! He's quite the worse for wear now, his body burned severely in places, but that doesn't seem to stop him from continuing his pursuit.
That kind of attempt is a tall order, and not many could pull it off. Even Blurr is going to have difficulty catching Blast Off as he lives up to his name. However, Blurr's fast enough to latch onto one wing aeleron. This does NOT please Blast off at all. "GET OFF!!!" The response is immediate- the shuttle points his nosecone to the sky and starts rolling to the side as he rockets upwards, flicking elevons to try and shake Blurr off. "You do not know when to QUIT, Autobot, but I shall TEACH you!"
"That was a pretty slick move, I'll give you that!" is all Blurr has to say in response. With one hand on the elevons and the other with guns pointed close-range at the shuttle's tail, he opens fire, hoping to damage it enough to cause a crash! And from this altitude, such a thing would -not- be pretty.
The shuttle's engines roar in protest and anger even as Blurr fires from close range. Then they roar and sputter in pain as ...well, there's really no way to avoid getting hit from a shot like that. It's more a question of degrees. Fortunately for the Combaticon, all the twisting and rolling jostles Blurr enough to prevent his shot from making a direct hit to a critical system. It still hurts like slag though, ripping into his fuslage and damaging the base of the tailfin, causing a systematic failure of secondary thrusters too, which add to the sudden sputter and smoke. The whole shuttle shudders at the impact and he does indeed start losing altitude as he has to reroute systems to compensate for damage and keep airborne. His nosecone dips down and Blast Off starts flying erratically through some Vosian towers, trailing smoke as he goes, rolling and trying to dislodge Blurr. 
 
"I said GET OFF!!! You rabblerousing ruffian and scrapmaking heathen!" He punctuates that with a particularly sharp dive and roll. Losing altitude still, Blast Off makes a last ditch effort to knock Blurr clean off him by scraping that wing along one of the towers. "You are boorish, rude, and I am QUITE done with you! What is your *problem*, Autobot!!!?? Always picking fights with a Combaticon- with ME- is a death wish!!"
Blurr gets buffeted and knocked around as Blast Off banks and rolls erratically through the towers, attempting to get rid of him. But he just doesn't seem to give up! "What's my problem? Well there are a number of things, honestly. But for example the way you terrorized people; killed people; essentially destroyed civilization; and continue to do so, and also the way you like, betrayed us when we offered to help you and gave you the -benefit of the doubt- I mean -that- was like spawn of a glitch! Wasn't the first time, either. Anyway point is, you slagheaps are -way- beyond any kind of -redemption- or second chance. When even someone like -Pax- decides you're hopeless that's when you know it's -really- bad." He pulls himself up toward the wing, and starts to tear away at the already-damaged plating on the shuttle's undercarriage...at some point he's bound to get to some manner of important inner circuitry. Or, perhaps a fuel tank.
At any rate, he brings out that phosphex torch he'd been using earlier, dialing the power all the way up, he shoves it right into an open wound--just as Blast Off scrapes along the outer wall of a nearby building and finally knocks the Autobot off of himself. He falls a short distance, but manages to grab on to an awning a few hundred feet below.
The list of atrocities only riles up the shuttle. Rocketing through towers and over rooftops, dipping down under arches and banking along the edges of radio towers, the Combaticon huffs back, "You must be *joking*! Funny, I never thought you the jesting type. But please, go on, keeping spouting off about your superior nature and moral high ground even as you and your kind subjugate the populace by mind control, thought police, and outright mutilation of anyone who doesn't bow to your demands! While you play nice to the cameras and do dirty work behind the scenes. While you place false idols as your leaders, bringing us a useless Prime with a trinket to try and rule us again. At least Decepticons are DIRECT about what they do. You Autobots are the most self-righteous, self aggrandizing lot of scrapheaps I've ever known and we shall TAKE that power from you and give it back to where it belongs- to ourselves!" 
 
He could probably go on, too, but suddenly there's phosphex torch jabbed into an open wound along his fuselage near his tail fin. The shuttle screeches with pain as metal tears and burns and circuits sizzle. It causes a spasm as he rolls sharply to the left, sparks flying from short-circuiting systems, finally dislodging Blurr as he scrapes his wing against the building. 
 
"You pile of cosmic rust!!! This isn't over, Blurr, not by a long shot. And be quite certain a *long shot* is exactly what I'm going to do to you!" Systems are failing and the Combaticon has little time to dally- he must fly while he still can and land somewhere outside the city. But as he goes, he aims his wing lasers down at Blurr. "Here's a parting gift- for all you've done! I'll have to wrap it later- preferably around your disembodied *head*!"
As the wing lasers fire down, Blurr flips upward, swinging his body onto the top of the awning before smashing straight through a window and into the interior of the building. Most of the shots simply scorch the awning or the outer wall of the structure, though. With the speedster out of sight, perhaps Blast Off ought to deal with that still-burning torch stuck in his insides...maybe transforming will help. Or maybe it will only make things worse. Either way, he needs a medic and badly.
Landing without crashing is Blast Off's first priority. He puts all his effort into rerouting systems to keep him airborne as he rockets away, gaining speed as he goes and still trailing both normal white smoke from his thrusters and dark clouds that burn as they billow out behind him. The Combaticon deliberately knocks his injured wing along buildings, trying to dislodge the torch without taking the whole wing out. By this point his heat shields have received a few dings as well, littering ceramic tiles as they scrape off too. The sentient shuttle leaves a trail of smoke, various pieces of armor shielding, and knocked down antannes and scrapes on walls as he makes his way rapidly towards a landing just outside the city- and escape. He is NOT happy. 
 
Oh well, at least he got two bottle of wine out of this. They better be GREAT.