Introducing: Brawl

Brawl is curled over a metal mug full of low-grade energon. It's hardly the best fare for someone of his size and power-needs, but he isn't complaining. He has a lot on his mind, and unfortunately for him, thinking through it is a long and arduous process that requires days or even /weeks/ to complete. Freshly escaped from a military prison in Fort Syck, his first instinct was to locate Onslaught. Once a soldier, always a soldier, and his training kicked in. He needed someone to think for him and give him orders. That brought him here.
Brawl has been given a wide berth by most of the other fighters who know better than to get a full fledged military-class ruination tank angry. He's highly favored in the pits, and rumor has it that Megatron is particularly keen on putting his volatile temper to good use. Reaching up to his face, he removes the plate there to imbibe the equivalent of a cheap beer. His brushed steel face is marked by a pronounced scar, crossing in bar sinister fashion from his cheek, ocver his nose, to the corner of his mouth, down to his chin.
Blast Off is one of the few who do NOT give Brawl a wide berth. It's not so much that he really *wants* to be in the loud and obnoxious (to him) tank's company.... it's that, unfortunately, this tank is his *teammate*. He, too, was once a soldier following Onslaught, he too was imprisoned,... and he, too, has found himself back here, with the team of Combaticons he knows so well. Maybe doesn't love, but he knows. And- they may annoy the slag out of him much of the time, but- he actually trusts them, too. With the possible exception of Swindle. But- that's just common sense, isn't it?
The shuttle walks up to the tank, pausing to blink as his teammate reveals a scar. Blast Off keeps his face much more hidden most of the time, only retracting a small panel that *just* allows him to eat or drink. few get to see the rest of his face. He needs his distance, after all. His voice is bored, aloof. "What happened to you?"
Torque is back at the Forge again, giving herself a free day from work as business is usually slow on this day. She won't be taking up space in the medbay today, however, instead keen on participating in a fight or two. But of course, like any brawler, she goes to have a drink first while waiting for her call.
Without hesitation the femme beelines for the bar, but stops halfway when she notices a particular purple and brown mech standing there. "Oh hey, I remember you." Whatever shred of rough and tough attitude she held onto earlier now drops away in favor of a warm smile when approaching the two Combaticons. "Hope you're takin' those meds. Feeling any better?" Awaiting an answer, Torque can't help glancing up at the massive bulk beside them that is Brawl. Cue a brightening of her optics and a look of awe to come over her. "Whoa.. You're Brawl, aren't you?"
The big tank spares Torque a friendly smile; he may be trouble, but he tends to give fembots courtesy. "Yeah, that's me," he agrees, taking a big swig of low-grade. His orange-visored optics go to Blast Off, and he grins lopsidedly. "I got in trouble," is his answer to his comrade, as if that explains it all.
Blast Off hears Torque's voice and turns to see her warm smile as she approaches. The shuttle blinks and.... glances around for who she's smiling at. Oh, it's him and Brawl? He's still not used to people seeming so... *friendly*. But he does recognize her and politely nods his head. "Yes, I am feeling much better now. The poison feels completely gone. But I will finish my prescription; I know how important that is." He raises an optic ridge at her apparent admiration and recognition of Brawl's personage, a mixture of.... You are in awe of /this/ guy? Seriously? ...and probably also jealously. Ok, definitely a little jealousy. But he's started making a name in the Pits, too... right? Or he will.
Back to the big mech. Blast Off sits down near the tank and crosses his arms. "...Trouble." He eyes that scar some more. "....Aaaand- what *kind* of trouble are we talking about? That must have been /quite/ some trouble, for unless I am mistaken, you manage to find trouble MOST of your life. As I remember, you seek it out. Unless you've mellowed in the last few million years since I last saw you?" A subtle pang of regret hits him as he laments all those lost years and what torments they both went through, but he shoves it down and just keeps looking at the tank like a tolerant adult looks at a problem child.
"They put me back in the military," Brawl explains. "Took me to Fort Syck for more training, shoutin' orders at me." He snorts dismissively. "Dumbfrags tellin' me I'm stupid. Sayin' Primal Vanguard are outdated, need to be decommissioned." He scowls, which only emphasizes the scar. "I showed 'em how 'outdated' I was. They said I had 'anger problems'. Put me in the brig."
Blast Off soaks that in, letting out a small gust of air through his vents as he does so. "I... see." There's a sour glance off towards nowhere in particular and he radios the tank privately, <<They do love putting us in the brig, don't they? Despite all we did for this planet. Bunch of ingrates. But we *will* have our day, Brawl. It's *coming*.>> Outwardly, he asks, "I hope you dented a few plates before they took you down. Actually- no, I already know you did." He gives a small nod of approval. Then looks at the scar. "Well... they say scars add... character." Pause. "Not that you aren't already /full/ of that." It's both a compliment and insult at the same time! Blast Off can be good at doing that.
"I gotta say, I'm a fan. Your last fight was awesome! You really beat that guy senseless." Torque grins bright and punches the air in a mock fight. "You, ah.. You two don't mind if I join you, do you? Figured I'd get a drink before my fight." She eyes the free seat on the opposite side of Brawl that Blast Off doesn't take, though the shuttleformer does get her attention a moment. "Heh, good. You wouldn't believe how many mechs just stop takin' their perscription and come back sick again." Whether she's allowed to sit or not, Torque still pipes up to the tender and orders herself a drink. "Just the regular stuff, please." To this the tender nods and sets a heavy mug of dark enerbrew in front of her.
Brawl's bad mood lifts thinking about violence. It's the only time he can really think at all. "Ha ha yeah! I love fighting down here, it's the best. Yeah, go ahead and have a seat," he says to Torque. Turn down a femme sitting next to him? AS IF. <<Yeah, I know. That's why I'm here,>> he radios back to Blast Off.
With another drink, he drains his mug. "I got the scar breakin' out of the detention center. They were gonna court-martial me!" he growls. "It's THEIR fault I'm like this!" His voice is starting to boom. "Brawl" is not synonymous with "quiet".
Blast Off nods at Torque. "Go ahead." He may not be the friendliest mech, but 1) she's a medic, and 2) she's a femme, and the gentlemech shuttle isn't going to go out of his way to anger either- especially both at the same time. Staying on a medic's good side is generally a wise strategy, after all. She seemed at least reasonably competent the night before, actually noticing that his feet weren't what they should be. "Do you know who you're fighting yet?" Of course, he's waiting on a fight too. If they wound up fighting each other, then.... well, he'll deal with that if it happens. Basically by doing his best to defeat her, because medic or femme or not, he's /gonna win/.
The shuttle winces at Brawl's loud voice, but seems to tolerate it better than most loud voices. probably because he's used to it- or was. "Brawl- watch your volume." He says patiently. "What do you mean it's *their* fault?"
"Not yet, no. I told 'em to surprise me. More fun that way." Torque shrugs and hops up beside Brawl once they both allow it, taking her mug in hand and hoisting it to her lips to take a sip. The antenna on Brawl's side flicks back at his boisterous voice, but she doesn't seem to mind much and just smirks wide. "Well, like your buddy here said, it gives you character. I like it, think it makes yah look more intimidating, y'know? A good advantage here." As for her? Well, she pretty much has to play the 'don't judge a book by its cover' card.
Brawl is really only able to keep one train of thought chugging down the tracks at a time, so Torque's comments register, but are given a number and told to wait in line until the first thought has reached the station and all passengers have disembarked. "This body!" Brawl complains, trying to keep himself 'quiet' which is more like 'yelling at a lesser intensity'. "They took my body, and they put me in this one, and they did something to my head!" He points at the doorway to the medical bay. "That big purple guy with the one eye, he said it was sara-- sarab-- sarabull--" He gives up. The word is too long. "They changed my brain so it's hard to think! The only time I can think now is when I'm fighting. Then it's like it used to be. But everything else is -hard-. They made me STUPID!"
Blast Off plays the "keep everyone away, keep my distance by putting up as many barriers as possible, including a faceplate I wear at almost all times so no one sees my real face" card so... well, hopefully that blank faceplate and the disdainful glare are intimidating enough. If not, there's always his skill with that ionic blaster with the massive firepower. THAT seems to get them every time if the rest doesn't. "He's not my buddy, we simply work together. Or did." He considers, "Well... I suppose we're working together again." If the pits count.
He also considers Torque. "I must admit... I am surprised you both fight *and* heal. Usually medics aren't found IN the Pits, too."
Then Brawl speaks, and Blast Off stares. He listens, not moving much at all. But slowly his optic ridges furrow down, and tension builds in his frame. His gaze turns to the medical bay. "Cerebral...?" He glances to Torque, frowning at her now under his faceplate. Then back to Brawl, his violet optics flashing now. "The people at Fort Syck did this to you? Does Onslaught know?"
"Well, it helps to know a mech's anatomy. Besides, the shanix isn't a bad supliment outside the shop." Torque sips slowly at her drink and turns attention back to Brawl as he goes on about body swapping and.. brain surgery? Her brows pinch in response and she frowns, just as disturbed as Blast Off. "Wait, they actually messed with your head? That's.. messed up. Primus, what the slag are they doing these days?" She stares into her glass frowns even harder as thoughts from the previous day come trickling in. "First I meet an empurata victim, now you. And then you look at the state of Kaon and.. things aren't looking so good."
"Yeah," Brawl says, settling back down. "That's why I'm here. I'm gonna get revenge on those pipe-suckers for what they did to me." It's about all he can really think to say, as his rage is openly processed. He's ALMOST done with that thought.
Blast Off raises an optic ridge at the femme, actually a little impressed. Not that he'll go overboard showing it, of course. "I imagine so." Then together they listen to Brawl. The shuttle works to control the uncharacteristic rage he feels about that. But he is a Combaticon, listening to a fellow Combaticon, and while he's never been the most loyal of mechs... his loyalty to his team has been the one constant. They look out for each other, and the rage and helplessness he feels at their treatment, their imprisonment, their powerlessness, and their torments... the loneliness, the never-ending, unbearable, spark-wrenching isolation..... Blast Off has to shake his head to snap out of it, at least a little. At least for now.
His optics still glow a deep purple, the one outer indication of the anger he feels inside. "...I'll help." Yes, it brings him back to the discussion he had with Breakdown earlier- how some things just need to be BURNED to the GROUND. Some things aren't worth trying to save- Fort Syck just got put on that list for Blast Off, too.
Finally, he's able to look back over at Torque. "Yes. We served this planet for ages- and look where it got us." He points to Brawl, not bringing up his own past. "The government is broken. Which is why you've got places like..." he looks around. "This."
Torque never was one to get involved in this rebellion stuff. She does what she can to avoid the discussion around here despite it essentially being where all the rebels go. Sure, she doesn't agree with much of the rulings that've been put on the general populous, but.. it's hard for her to see herself helping stir the pot. "Well.." The femme speaks sheepishly into her glass, trying not to get too involved with Combaticon issues. "At the rate things are going, I've got a feeling it's gonna hit the boiling point soon.." Whether she'll be keeping her head down when it happens is yet undecided.
"Remember home?" Brawl asks Blast Off. He looks over at Torque. "Have you ever been off-planet?"
Blast Off looks at Torque. "They will. the question isn't if anymore, it's when." And he's already fairly certain he will NOT be keeping his head down. No, he thinks it very likely he and his fellow Combaticons may well be at the *forefront*. It's not like they've got anything else to lose. He looks to Brawl: his new body, his new... mind? And tries not to feel too uncomfortable in his own new "skin". This isn't his old body, either. "Yes, of course." He answers quietly. "I want to go back there." Actually, there and ANYWHERE in SPACE would do.
Now that the conversation has switched gears, Torque appears to return to a brighter attitude. Antennas twitch up and she nods in response to Brawl. "Only once. Was a trip to Velocitron. Finally saved up enough shanix to catch a shuttle out there before one of their big, annual races. Wish I could go back, but a while after I got back they put the Clampdown in effect." She leans into the counter and sighs wistfully. "Wish I could travel, though. Cybertron's nice, don't get me wrong, but I wanna see more, y'know? ..What's your home like?"
"Combatron is great. Military precision as far as the optic can scan. I miss the target ranges. Lotsa great explosions," Brawl says wistfully. It's basically Military Planet in the Planet of Hats colony listings, but hey, it's home for the big lug. "And the fembots had armor so thick you could bounce a mortar shell off 'em." He grins stupidly in recollection of the 'girls back home'. It'll take him a couple of minutes before he remembers such comparisons might be rude in the company of a lady.
Blast Off nods to Torque. "Ah, yes, Velocitron. I visited there a few times." Not that the races appealed to him, but if the event was one of those High Society wanted to see and be seen at? Why yes, he'd try to be there. "Of course, I visited many places. When you don't have to "catch a shuttle" because you ARE one, well... the possibilities are endless. And the galaxy is a vast, fascinating place." He feels another pang, this time really missing the great expanses that are TRULY his home, before turning to Brawl.
"Yes, I liked the target ranges. I've seen nothing like them on THIS planet. It's a wonder anyone here can aim at ALL, really. Nor any wonder I'm as good as I am. Of course, I was one of the best, even there." The rest gets a blink, and suddenly Blast Off remembers at least one reason he wanted to LEAVE Combatron to begin with. He frowns at the memory of the femmes.
No... he never quite ...fit in that way. Nor many other ways, honestly. In some ways he's a Combaticon through and through.... but in others, like his love of the "finer things", of quiet class and sophistication- well, he's never entirely fit in with his fellow Combatrons. (Of course, as he found- he doesn't exactly "fit in" on Cybertron, either.) But being a space shuttle- it didn't matter. Not as far as their team was concerned. For they *needed* him, and that's all that mattered. "Uh.... yes." He doesn't sound quite as enthused. Glancing at Torque before he thinks otherwise, he comments, "But I... do find some things preferable here..."
Lucky for Brawl, Torque isn't very lady-like. Where one would feel insulted, she instead chuckles heartily. "I'll have to visit it sometime if they ever remove the Clampdown. It's funny, cause I've had a few folks think I'm from there. I probably wouldn't fit in much, though, since I'm no good with a gun."
Tipping back her glass, Torque drains at least half the glass and grins to the two of them, the heavy glass thudding on the counter. "Must be nice to be able to fly wherever you want, though. Don't have to worry about ticket fees. Just gotta step outside and you're off." As for Blast Off's comment.. Well, her grin settles down and she gives him a more friendly smile instead. "Agreed. I like it because it's a big melting pot. You never know what sorta mech you're gonna meet next."
"Bah, you don't need big guns. If you have strength, you can get in and tear a mech in half before he can pull the slaggin' trigger," Brawl suggests helpfully to Torque. Thankfully she didn't take offense at his previous comment, which was well meant and may have applied to her just a tad.
Blast Off gives Torque a small nod. "Yes... I hear a saying sometimes... "The sky's the limit"." He allows himself a short, smug chuckle. "Not for me." He orders a drink of his own, then glances skyward. "If it weren't for the Clampodown, I'd be out there, too... exploring, finding resources... all the things I was built to do." There's a small sigh and his gaze turns earthbound. "Yes... I have to admit this planet is a bit more... cultured. There *is* more to life than fighting, you know..."
He glances to Brawl, blinking as he speaks of tearing mechs in half. "Ah... I'll take your word for it. I prefer hitting from a distance- quick, precise shots from my sniper rifle. Before my enemy even knows what hit them. And then I'm gone before they can even get close."
"That's what I'm hopin' to do today." Torque beams, bringing her fists up and punching the air like a proper boxer, though she hesitates and clears her vocals softly while rubbing the back of her helm, "Er.. Well, not tearing them in half, but you know what I mean." Primus forbid she ever actually kill someone in the ring. She wouldn't be able to forgive herself, which is probably why she's never left mid-tier. Sipping her brew a bit more thoughtfully now, Torque snorts and smirks at the shuttle. "I had a feeling you were more the finesse type. I can't see a mech like you all guns a'blazing like Brawl here."
Brawl leans over, "Vortex calls him the company transport," he whispers (loudly) to Torque.
Torque is, of course, drinking at that moment and almost chokes on her drink, making her splutter and try not to laugh out loud.
Blast Off gives Torque a mirthless chuckle. "You are correct." Siiigh. "It wasn't always easy... being the "civilized" one." It's still not. Poor, poor, put-upon Blast Off. It's not easy being as magnificent as him. >_> "I try to provide an example, though, and I hope that it rubs off, at least a little bit. Sometimes..." He freezes as Brawl whispers the "company car" bit. There's immediately a loud HUFFFFFF. "Vortex is also the crazy one!" He bristles in righteous indignation! "OK, so I am a *shuttle*, and YES, I have to transport the others, and I deserve some *respect* for that!" Huff huff bristle. "The THINGS I have to put up with! And you!" *points to Brawl* "Trampling your muddy tire treads on my pristine floors!!"
"Glitch glitch glitch," Brawl smugly retorts. "Try fightin' on the ground and see how easy it is to keep all clean and shiny. Oh suuuure, you can be all 'muddy treads' when you're off HIDIN' IN THE SKY."
Torque, meanwhile, is just laughing in the background. This is awesome, though she does eventually calm down enough to comment on Blast Off's behalf. "Heh, he's got a point. You mechs'd be pretty stuck if he didn't shuttle you everywhere."
Blast Off bristles EVEN MORE if that's possible. His plating ripples in agitation. Yes, his teammmates have a way of getting under his "skin" in a way that few others can. But hey- that's family. "WHAT?!?" He points again. "I'm not HIDING. I'm ...staying out of the firefights in order to better be able to transport your sorry afts OUT of the fight come win or lose. But especially LOSE. You think I LIKED sitting up there all by myself while you got all the glory?" (Actually, he did. Does he want to get all beat up and muddy and have people invading his personal space and- oh heck no. PFFT.) "It always fell on ME to be the responsible one while you all went off to play /soldier/!"
Then Torque speaks, and he points at her before remembering that pointing is *rude* and he's a civilized mech. His hand comes down. "SEE? She knows, and she wasn't even there! It's simply /common sense/!" Said as if to smugly imply that Brawl is quite *lacking* in such things.
Brawl rockets up out of his chair. "ARE YOU CALLIN' ME STUPID?!" he roars at Blast Off. "YOU WANNA PLAY SOLDIER? I'LL SHOW YOU HOW TO PLAY SOLDIER!" He lunges for the shuttle across the table.
"Ack!" Brawl goes up and Torque goes down, startled enough to fall off her seat and onto the floor where her drink spills everywhere. "Erg.." The femme grunts while rubbing the sore spot at the back of her head, the other hand reaching up to grab a seat and haul herself back up. "Hey hey! Save it for the arena, will yah? You made me waste my drink!" She huffs at the two and looks glumly at the spilled energon. Damn, and she was almost done with it, too! "Don't make me pull you two apart!"
Blast Off is just beginning to lean forward towards Brawl when the tank suddenly lunges up. Blast Off is surprised- but not TOO surprised. Brawl always had a bad temper. Still, there's a little extra fury there that nearly gets him slammed by the tank, and that would have HURT. So much #Nope. Jerking back, Brawl's hand scrapes against Blast Off's shoulder as he retreats, and even that little touch knocks him sideways from the impact. "Ooof!" Physically he's no match, and he knows it. But he's much faster and by and large he avoids Brawl's grip, using quick reflexes to stay maddeningly out of range.
He still manages to smirk despite all this- it's almost like old times. "Ha! What's the matter? Too SLOW? Oh, that's right, you're a TANK." He works on keeping out of range rather than trying to fight back- because the only way he could be able to would be to start shooting- and he really isnt aiming (ha ha) for that. Torque gets a glance. "Ah... apologies for that. I'm sure Brawl here won't mind paying for a new one. Right, Brawl?" It's actually possible Blast off may be... grinning (?) under his faceplate. Something about family, and finding a place when you've had nowhere to go for so long.
"SLOW?!" Brawl roars. Sorry, pure rage time - he might have calmed down if Blast Off hadn't continued to taunt him. Now Brawl is scrambling over the table to try to get his hands around Blast Off's scrawny little neck. "WHY YOU LITTLE--" Cue the Simpsons theme.
Yep, time to step in! "Damn right you're gonna buy me another drink. Both of you!" Torque isn't a fan of fighting outside the arena, even though it happens fairly often, and doesn't put up with it. Many a mech has found the femme jumping in between them, and today is no different. Well, maybe a little as she doesn't move between them as she storms over.
Brawl will feel two hands hooking into bits of his back kibble and armor, Torque getting a good grip between she grits her dentals to steel herself and heaves with a grunt of effort. In a show of true strength Torque hauls Brawl clear off the ground and holds him aloft on his back, her internals audibly shifting and settling to properly handle the load. "No fightin', y'hear? Now sit down." A few steps back and she puffs, dropping the massive mech back into his seat.
Blast Off is still grinning... though when Brawl starts scrambling over tables the shuttle stops the taunts. He still smirks, keeping out of range- which is easier now that he's away and got a little distance. But (sigh) probably better to try stopping the rampage before it truly starts. Onslaught might blame HIM otherwise. "Brawl!" He holds a hand up. "Calm yourself and save that rage for the Fighting Pits!" He keeps stepping back. "What would *Onslaught* say?! At ease, soldier!!" Yes, if all else fails, use the ol' What would Onslaught do?
Then Torque does... THAT, and the shuttle actually stops and stares. Holy Primus, she can do WHAT?! He blinks, making a note not to tick her off, if possible. "Uh.... thanks." His usually quite cultured voice betrays some of his shock.
Brawl's optics are huge behind his visor as he's picked right up off the floor. Yes, that is enough of a physical interruption to break him out of rage mode. "I -- whu-- I!!!" he stammers, helpless. "--I surrender!!"
"Tch, giving up so easily? C'mon now, all I did was pick you up." Torque laughs goodnaturedly and dusts her hands after setting him down, her body easing up from its weight-bearing mode. Sure it may not be a big deal to her, but when most can't pick you up it's a big surprise once your feet leave the ground. "I'll take another of the usual. Tab it to these mechs." She cranes her head to the tender and smirks, jabbing her thumb at the Combaticons. Once it's delivered she swipes it up and instantly drains over half of it, pretty much pouring it down as she doesn't appear to swallow. ..She drinks a lot, so she's had practice.
Blast Off is just about to begin protesting getting added to that bill, then he remembers the display of strength the femme just displayed and he decides not to press the issue. He sighs and nods. Oh well, perhaps he's a *tiny* bit responsible. He watches Torque down half the glass with another optic ridge raising, then sits down once more. "I... can see why you like fighting now." He deadpans.
Brawl, set down, stares at Torque. He just stares, his mouth open in complete and total shock.
And possibly because after that display he's developing a crush.
Torque sets her glass down with a loud clack and grins, flashing them both a friendly wink as she flexes an arm to Blast Off. "Got that right. I'm not mid-tier for nothing, you know. Could go higher, but that sorta fighting isn't much my style." Then she catches sight of Brawl, who has yet to speak, and flicks antennas up in curiosity with lips pursing slightly. "You uh.. you okay there, bud? I didn't hurt you or anything, did I..?" She hopes not, since it wasn't her intention!
Blast Off still has a slightly dazed expression himself. He tries reaching for his glass, misses, then gropes for it because he's still too busy staring at her to actually LOOK. It takes nearly knocking the glass over to finally look down and take it for a long sip of his own. He mutters quietly to Brawl, "See? I told you some things were better *here*." More loudly he states, "I... will be sure to come see you sometime at your shop. You were correct, I do need replacements."
Brawl's vision has outlined Torque in a heart-shaped frame. "Uh... You're fine. --I mean I'm fine!" he corrects. He scrambles over to the table to try to find his misplaced faceplate.
Torque snickers softly at the sight of the brute stumbling over his words and hurriedly trying to get his faceplate. "Heh, easy soldier. What, you mechs never met a strong femme before? We're not all sleek and agile, you know." She teases and leans back in her seat. A nod is sent to Blast Off and she speaks up again after stealing a small sip of brew, "Good, I'll be lookin' forward to it. Shuttleformer parts aren't the easiest to come by, but I'll see what I can do."
Blast Off nods, looking down to his drink, then back to Torque. Who knows, maybe this femme could actually lead somewhere? It's not like he's had any luck so far. *Lonely heart sigh* Though a glance to the smitten Brawl reminds him there's competition, and wasn't Whirl a bit smitten, too? and.... and, so... he doesn't get his hopes up. But, he will at least go see her. He keeps a more aloof demeanor now. "Yes, I know. I haven't had any luck finding shuttle parts in a place like *this*.And with the Clampdown, it's even more difficult than it was."
Blast Off looks rather sour, but more than that, a little disturbed and possibly haunted underneath. Very quietly he adds, "Shuttles aren't in demand anymore."
Brawl is still looking for his faceplate. Little does he know that he kicked it halfway across the room. And someone stepped on it.
Torque frowns some at that last bit from Blast Off and leans forward to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. "Maybe not, but just remember that once it's lifted people will be itching to get out of here. It'll be a big boon for shuttles, just you wait and see." But before she can say any more the overhead speakers call for Torque to prepare for her fight. "Welp, that's my cue. I'll seeya later at the shop."
Down goes the rest of her drink, the dark liquid disappearing down her throat, and once it's gone she stands, pats the shuttle on the shoulder, and moves past Brawl to scoop up his faceplate. "Looking for this?" She playfully asks when standing before him now, looking down with a smile as she bends it back into shape with ease. "Gotta keep a better optic on it. Though I do like the scar, I think it suits you." She hands him the faceplate and grins over her shoulder when strolling on out. "Don't get into too much trouble, okay? See you mechs later."
Brawl mutely takes it, still staring, dumb-struck, at Torque as she walks out.
Blast Off huffs a little at Brawl, who seems to be ignoring him now, but... then again, this /is/ Brawl. Not the brightest tank (/are/ there any bright tanks?)... And ignoring is probably better than rampaging across tables at. He's also a bit distracted, as is Blast Off. Then Torque squeezes his shoulder. The shuttle stiffens, his natural reaction to sudden close contact... though he doesn't pull away. He simply looks up, a little uneasy but not too much so. Then he nods. "...Yes. It will *have* to get lifted eventually, and then..." he glances upwards. then he reach the stars again. As Torque heads away, he gives her a final, polite nod. "Good luck in your battle- not that I think you'll need it."