From Iacon to Kaon

After Hot Rod 'protected' Blurr from Blast Off, the racer has been following the flame-painted mech around, hoping the latter can help him figure out where he lives. They've made it back to Iacon--perhaps Hot Rod had guessed that like the rest of the elite caste, Blurr probably has a hab suite in Translucentia Heights. Now the question is just which one it is, exactly...

Still basking in the warm glow of his own heroism, Hot Rod takes in the gleam and shine of Iacon with less cynicism than he otherwise might. The company helps. Hey, look, hey everyone: he's hanging out with Blurr. SELFIE.

(He doesn't take a selfie.)

Yet as they near Translucentia Heights, he slows -- and it's probably not all because he thinks he might get arrested. Hot Rod says, "So do you remember much about what happened? I'm not so sure it's really the best for you to go right back to where they can find you again."

Blurr seems to recognize Translucentia's gleaming spires, and his face lights up with the excitement of something familiar. He frowns a little bit at Hot Rod's question, but probably not enough given the severity of what actually happened. << What happened when? A lot of things have happened. >>

He looks confused when Hot Rod seems to hesitate to continue toward Translucentia. << What do you mean where they can find me again? Where who can find me? Blast Off? >>

He keeps darting in circles around Hot Rod, as if he just can't stay still. An advertisement catches his optics, and he points at it. It's for a gift shop of sorts, and has the words CONJUNX ENDURA over an image of a happy couple sharing a tender moment that involves the gifting of something expensive from the shop. << What's 'conjunx endura' mean? >>

So many questions. Hot Rod studies Blurr's expression: the excitement of recognition, the frown, the confusion. He's not exactly known for being able to keep his feelings off his face, himself, but while his expression might be open, it's fairly fixed in concern. He doesn't like concern. It feels terrible. It is NOT awesome.

Then there's that last question and his expression blanks into surprise. "What's-- okay, hang on." Hot Rod backtracks to take them one at a time, and after a brief glance around, drops to match Blurr, text for text, which'll take a little more effort to eavesdrop: << Do you remember anything from where Feint found you, or how you got that way? Do you know who did it? A conjunx endura is-- >> He breaks off and makes a face. How to explain that one. "Wait, what do you mean, what's it mean." He breaks aloud again as that ticks over in his processor. "Isn't Feint yours?"

Blurr studies Hot Rod's expression. Hm, he looks worried. << You're not being very specific. I'm sure Feint has found me on a lot of occasions. >> The speedster shrugs, then looks confused again.

<<What do you mean 'that' way? You mean not remembering where I live? Well it happens, sometimes. I have a lot of things to remember. But I'm getting better. >> Is he trying to hide it? << Axle removed my vocal synth, I don't remember why, but I'm sure he meant well he's done it before. He always knows what he's doing. >> He smiles, then quirks a brow ridge at the other mech. << I mean, what does it mean? Feint is mine? >> he glances at the ad again. << Well I do care about her. Is that what it means? >>

Hot Rod mutters something under his breath that is not appropriate for the company of /fifteen-year-olds/ as he buries his head in his hands. It certainly includes the words 'Oh, Primus' and then many more. He curls one hand to form a fist and thumps his forehead. Thump, thump. This is too much thinking. Hot Rod needs a grown-up.

Turning to Blurr, Hot Rod puts his hands on his shoulders to still him long enough that he can give him a serious look. << Axle didn't just remove your vocal synth. He attacked you and he messed with your head. Feint helped you get away, but you're hurt. You're injured -- here. >> He points at his own head, hand falling away. << The conjunx thing -- no one /belongs/ to anyone. She doesn't belong to you. >> His expression is unexpectedly fierce as he says that. << But yeah, you care about her. >> Feeling-talk. He looks uncomfortable. << You care about each other, you're promised to take care of each other. >>

Blurr nods at the explanation of conjunx endura. << Oh, that's what it seemed like! >> he grins. << Yes, I take care of her. She has some pretty amazing abilities. >>

But he frowns again at Hot Rod's assertions about Axle. << Attacked me, no, he would never attack me. He takes care of me, like conjunx endura! He has to modify my processor sometimes, but it's for my own good, to help me win at the tracks! >> Right, of course, and that all sounded like it came right out of Axle's own moth.

But then the racer starts to look concerned, too. << Wait, how did you know about that? People aren't supposed to know about that. >>

<< Yes, >> Hot Rod says, and then he looks horrified. "No!" he says, sharp before he hastily muffles himself. << No! Not like conjunx endura! Look -- having the gaps in your memory isn't normal, right? >> he asks after a moment. It's not that he isn't answering Blurr, /exactly/, it's just that he's trying to clarify things, first.

<< Well no but it's fairly normal, for me, anyway. >> Blurr answers, he's starting to look kind of antsy. << Axle always fixes it, I wouldn't worry about it. >>

He glances back up in the direction of Translucentia. << So why were we pausing here again? I'm pretty sure I have a hab suite over there. >>

Hot Rod is silent for not so very long, really, but for himself -- much less for /Blurr/ -- it probably feels like an eternity. << Axle's dead. He pulled out his own spark. >>

Blurr stares at Hot Rod, optics wide and confused. Then he shakes his head vigorously. << No why would he do that? He wouldn't commit suicide. He has a good life. >> Uh-oh. Is he going to have to tell Blurr that Feint murdered him? << Where would you get an idea like that? What are we waiting for anyway I need to find my hab suite. >>

YEP. HE IS: "Feint was protecting you." This requires something more than text. Hot Rod speaks quietly, stepping in close to Blurr. His voice is low and not entirely without sympathy, but he seems somewhat impatient about it too. "Axle was trying to kill you both. And he wasn't acting along, and if you go back to your hab suite, someone else might try to finish the job."

Blurr keeps shaking his head, backing away from Hot Rod as he steps closer. -Now- he looks panicked. << What do you mean? She was protecting me from Axle but Axle would never hurt me everything he does is for me so I can do better at the races! >> he insists. << He wouldn't try to kill me! How do you even know about this did you see it happen or did someone tell you? >>

Hot Rod should probably let Blurr have his space. He shouldn't crowd, definitely shouldn't try to stop him. So he does just that, reaching to catch Blurr's arm. "Wait," he says, like he thinks Blurr /might just run off/. He pauses, then grimaces, and switches over to speak as silently as Blurr once again: << Feint told me, >> he admits. << But it was obvious she'd been in a fight. >> So clearly everything else she said was true, too! << And it's obvious something's wrong with your memories. This isn't the first time someone's fragged up your head. Look, you're amazing at the races all on your own. Whatever this is about -- they are using you, mech. >>

And who else should show up just at that moment and put a hand on Hot Rod's shoulder other than the newly befriended Drift. "Hey, Rod.. you won't believe what just happened. Some rich Decepticon slagger just handed me a bunch of shanix, saying we could basically have it all only on the condition that we help several.. certain individuals escape from the Institute. Oh, and that we give him the location and whereabouts of these individuals afterwards too. I'm gonna go look into buying weaponry we can equip ourselves with--you should come along. Listen, I found some guys who want to join us too, I told them we could meet in Kaon--" Then he sees Blurr and his expression hardens. "..." He frowns, and optics start to glaze over. Very angrily.

Yeah, Blurr definitely would have taken off if Hot Rod hadn't grabbed his arm. And being as fast as he is, not even Hot Rod would have been able to catch up to him. But he doesn't doubt that Feint was telling the truth. She wouldn't lie about -that-. << I know it isn't the first time Axle has modified my processor but it has to be for the best, to keep me in peak condition. He understands me better than anyone! Well, except Feint. But she knows me in a different way. >>

And then Drift shows up. << Who is that? Wow, why is he so angry? >> Blurr doesn't understand the sudden mood shift.

Visibly startling when Drift's hand comes down, Hot Rod takes a sharp, fast look before he has time to do much more than tense. He settles in obvious relief when he sees Drift, which quickly becomes delight. (Drift is much better than, say, someone coming to steal Blurr away and reset his memories back to baseline.) "Well that sounds /awesome/ -- wait," he says, breaking off. "What's wrong?"

Hot Rod gives Blurr a completely clueless kind of shrug. "No idea," he says, answering aloud to a one-sided conversation. "Look, why don't you come with us?" Clearly they can all get along, right? "You remember the place we grabbed Feint? Filled with guys doing the same kind of things that Axle was doing to you. You can decide for yourself if that kind of thing is really for the best. /Feint/ didn't think it was for the best, and you cared enough about her to get her out of there."

"NO." Drift suddenly says very darkly, his optics glittering dangerously. He is staring at Blurr like a lion would stare a babe lamb. His fists are clenched. Then he composes himself somewhat. "I mean, let's not just jump the gun. We have all this shanix, so we should equip ourselves properly for the job." He pauses. "I know a black market in Kaon where we can get dibs on the hottest tech trends for reasonable prices. And we ought to think about a bunker too, if you're planning on starting a movement."

<< Come with you where? You don't know why he's angry or who he is? Why is he talking to you like he knows you then? >> Blurr watches Drift suspiciously. Who is this guy? << What is he talking about? Equip yourselves for what job? What bunker? What movement? >> All the questions. << What, that scientist who stole her spark? >> He's just so confused. << No, that isn't at all like what Axle was doing, but maybe he was just a rusty gear. If that's what they're about then maybe it is for the best, some people just can't help themselves enough and have to perform to high expectations. >>

Openly bewildered by Drift's answer, Hot Rod looks between the other two mechs in plain confusion. Then his expression scrambles as he tracks Blurr's responses. Too much. Visibly overwhelmed, he sorts one item a time. He holds up fingers. One: "Drift, what's your problem with Blurr? He could be incredibly useful. I've been wanting to get him and Feint to help deal with the Institute for a while." Two: "The Institute's full of people like the guy who stole Feint's spark, yeah, and like what's going on with /you/. It's really /not/ for the best. It isn't right at all if that's all you've known, them fragging up your memory like this. Maybe we should go catch up to Feint. Doesn't that sound nice?" (He's a little condescending there. Maybe. Just a tiny bit.) Three: "She headed to Kaon, so we could check out that market. You're right about needing to be ready for a hit."

"He's not going with us," Drift says, his optics narrowing. And his expression, well it's pretty murderous, and if Hot Rod's any wiser, he'll take a hint. If Blurr does come along, he might end up either dead, or in a ditch. Or both.

<< How do you know it's not for the best? >> Blurr asks. << Maybe it's bad sometimes but it can't always be bad! >> He stares at Drift. << I don't even know this guy, why is he acting like he hates my struts?>>

<< Okay, I guess we can go to Kaon, I've ever been there. But if Feint's there, I want to see her. >>

Yeees, wise, that is just the word that people use when referring to Hot Rod. Wise and thoughtful and patient. "You're gonna have to tell me why before I'm going to agree to that," Hot Rod says, far too casual in the face of Drift's sparking rage what with his easy 'We'll talk about this later' tones. "Blurr's on board for Kaon, at least," he says, turning to the racer with a frankly relieved smile, "and we can get your memory straight and processor in order." And then everything will be better! "Feint can explain to you about Axle."

And then, Drift just lashes and punches Blurr in the faceplates, like, so hard he would probably fall over if he's not expecting it. He grabs Hot Rod's arm and starts dragging him away from Blurr to somewhere where they are out of Blurr's line of sight. "<We need to talk>" Drift says, his grip on Hot Rod's arm like a stasis cuff. Hopefully Rod isn't too familiar with that feeling. "<There's no way we're letting that slagging speedster go with us. I don't trust him. AT ALL>"

Startled, Blurr stumbles backward and nearly topples over but manages to catch himself thanks to his lithe form and amazing agility. "...."

<< What is his problem?? I swear, I don't even know him! >> He rubs his face where Drift had punched him.

Pulled a few paces mostly from surprise, Hot Rod digs his heels in before Drift can quite pull him out of Blurr's line of sight. He doesn't seem bothered by the grip on his arm -- stasis cuffs? pfft, have to catch him first! (please don't take it as a challenge, prowl) -- but he does twist his arm. Rather than pull away, he clasps at Drift in turn. He's a little less stasis-cuffy, but he is intent about it. "Wait. Look, you don't have to trust him--" Obviously he just says everything out loud. He's that kind of guy. "--but he needs help. And I'm not walking away from anyone who needs my help -- okay, Blurr?" he calls back reassuringly. "We'll catch up to Feint and fix things. Drift, come on. They've all but emptied out his head."

"NO!" he grabs Rod by the shoulders and shakes him. Maybe that will.. knock some sense into him. "No he is NOT going and I will not trust him, and you aren't going to either. I don't care what the hell you think is going to happen. But that's the reason why we can't associate with this guy. I could care less whether he needs help or not, at worst he's a Senate sympathizer looking to get us arrested, at best he's a puppet, a pawn who's been brainwashed into thinking what he's doing is right. Either way, we help him or let him help us, we're screwed. If you let him come with us, I swear to Primus I will /make/ sure he's physically unable to come." He sighs. "<Look I know it might sound harsh to you. But if you want to become Rodimus you /have/ to listen to me. I'm telling you this because I care about you. I don't want some stupid slagger stabbing you in the back>"

Blurr nods at Hot Rod's reassurance. What? Blurr? Screw them over? Just look at those innocent childish-looking optics, he could -never- betray them! ...Right?

Well, Hot Rod might not know it, but...Drift has a point. The racer has a track record of being easily brainwashed or manipulated by his handlers into betraying his friends. Shiftlock, Blast Off, and Rung are already on that list. But, even if Hot Rod already knows that, who could ever beat his implacable optimism?

That's dirty poker, using /Rodimus/ in the argument. Hot Rod ducks his head in thought, with the gleam of his gaze muted. "Look -- you might be right. It doesn't matter. If you /are/, that's all the more reason he needs to come with us. We can keep him safe from anyone who might come after him -- and it's not like the two of us can't handle him." See? Look at that sweet, harmless little racer. Totally never betray anyone. Hot Rod trusts him. 100%. He lifts his head, expression stubborn and filled with conviction. "He deserves to be free to make his own choices. If I have to take him there myself, I will. I'll take him, I'll leave him with Feint, and then I'll come find /you/. But I'm not leaving him here so that they can disappear him."

"Damn. You're stupid. You're really, really stupid," Drift says straight to his faceplates, just before he punches Hot Rod. "And you're going to find out why soon enough." He groans. "Okay, fine, whatever. You can take him to Feint. But there's no way he's going with us to the Institute with us. I will personally make sure that he isn't able to go. Even if that means cutting off his legs while he's recharging."

Stopping Blurr from going where he wants to go is more of a feat than Drift is making it sound. Though perhaps that's why he's so concerned in the first place. Even if he cuts his legs off, he could still technically transform and move just as fast, if not faster.

Suddenly, the racer is standing next to Hot Rod. << You still haven't told me who this guy is, and how you know him, and what all this business about black markets and bunkers is about. You're trying to stop the people who were trying to steal Feint's spark, is that what this is? If they're doing that to other people then I'll help you! >>

Hot Rod trades punch for punch, light-jabbing Drift in the shoulder, but he doesn't seem to take much offense at being called stupid. Almost as though ... he has heard it before. A lot. Enough that the words scarcely register. The punch is less a lash and more a press of his knuckles as he presses his point, leaning forward: "Some things are worth the risk." He doesn't push it, but neither does he entirely drop it. He settles back with a pat to Drift's armor as he drops his hands. He turns toward Blurr with a grin. "Yeah. We're going to make sure what happened to Feint doesn't happen to anyone else. First up is catching up with her, though."

Drift doesn't seem at all surprised that Hot Rod doesn't blink at being called stupid. He just sighs and pushes Hot Rod's hand away. "If I don't stop you, you're going to be death of yourself."

He stares Blurr down with a murderous gaze again, fists clenched. "You're damn lucky you know that? If it weren't Rod sticking up for your sorry struts, I would have pulverized you by now." He arches a brow at Hot Rod. "If you even so much as hint at him coming with us to the Institute with us, I really am going to cut off his legs," he says casually, sounding tired. "And for the hell of it, I'll slice him just below his spark. He'll be alive, but unable to go. Sound like a deal? Ok, good. We can take him to Feint. That's it. I'm not hanging around the guy who runs around backing stabbing my friends by erasing their memories."

"Maybe some things are worth the risk, but this mech here is definitely not worth it."

Blurr cowers at Drift's threats, because last time he did that, Hot Rod became extremely protective. Yeah, no he doesn't want to get sliced. Not that he thinks Drift could even follow through on the threat, especially since he just gave him fair warning. But sometimes it pays to -act- helpless even if you actually aren't. << Hot Rod why does everyone else hate me so much? >> He'd probably sound whiny if that were said aloud. << I never erased anyone's memories! He's lost his bolts! >>

"Haven't died yet," Hot Rod says with a broadly unconcerned shrug. He is invincible. He can do anything. "Anyway, keep your blade stowed. I'm not exactly going to be able to sneak him along without telling you." He still seems convinced that he'll change Drift's mind.

Despite the explicitness of Drift's threats compared to Blast Off's lurking, Hot Rod doesn't display the same degree of protectiveness as before. It's abundantly clear that he places more trust in Drift, if /not/ clear /why/. (Answer: because.) Though he may not be so protective, he's still reassuring. Ish. He turns to give Blurr a reassuring-slash-bracing-slash-cheering slap on the back, then pull him up next to him. "It's okay. We'll figure it out. I'm sure he doesn't really hate you."

Drift seems satisfied with Hot Rod's answer, although the iciness in his glare at Blurr doesn't diminish. "Better not," he says in a pouty tone of voice.

Drift looms over a cowered Blurr. "You're high caste filth." He spits on the speedster and kicks him before turning away angrily. "<Maybe you just don't understand the gravity of what he did. She wasn't just a friend...>" Drift addressed Hot Rod silently.

Blurr stares at Drift's insults, then stares at Hot Rod. << Is this mech seriously a friend of yours? He just threatened to cut me in half! >> He might be starting to have second thoughts about helping them. << Who is he talking about? I didn't do anything! I suggest you ditch him, what if he decides he wants to cut YOU in half? >>

"Hey -- hey! No kicking or cutting." Hot Rod looks like an ache is drilling its way right into his processor. He moves between the two, because obviously where you want to stand when two people might want to murder each other is between them. Observe his problem solving in action! "No one is ditching anyone, or cutting anyone in half, or wiping anyone's memories. Come on, let's get moving." He starts them toward the main exit out of the city, like things will be better if he can just get them pointed in the same direction.

Drift just gives Blurr a dirty look and starts following Hot Rod closely. "<Look, I know that could have gone better. But just know that I'm not going to make you choose him or me. If this goes south, I'm still going to stick around. I'll deal with whatever frag we have to go through in order to make sure we manage to break into the Institute successfully>"

Blurr is still giving Hot Rod the incredulous stare. << You didn't answer my question, this guy is a friend of yours?? I think he has problems. >> Sure, Blurr, as if -you- don't... << Whatever you're trying to do, I don't think he will be much help, especially if he has random urges to hate people and cut them in half. >>

Hot Rod persistently herds them through the city and out. He relaxes at Drift's response and gives him an easier smile. Drawing strength from that certainty, he can answer Blurr: << Yeah. He's a friend, and you're right, he has problems. But he wants to do the right things. >> (Ha. Stupid.) << He's got a lot of anger, but I can't blame him. I do too. So did you, when we were getting Feint. Let's focus on getting to her. >>

<< Yeah but he threatened to cut me in half! >> Blurr protests. << I didn't threaten to cut anyone in half. >> He folds his arms, though he follows them. << How do you know he won't do it to you, clearly he isn't right in the head! >>

<< He'd have to catch you first, and I don't see that happening, >> Hot Rod points out with relentless optimism. He laughs, but does not share the thought. (Don't worry, Blurr: Drift totally got trying-to-kill-Hot-Rod out of his system already (for now)!) << He won't. >> It's not a very /persuasive/ argument, but it's a very firm statement. << Now let's go find that conjunx of yours. >>

Blurr contemplates this, then finally nods after a while. << Well fine I guess I trust you. >> That's one of the things about the speedster. He's so easily convinced of things, for better or for worse. Which is probably why he was so convinced that Axle always had his best interests in mind.

Suddenly, he changes the subject again. << How did you find out about where Feint was before? How did you know she was in trouble? >>

Trust returned brightens Hot Rod's entire manner. He all but hums in the happy glow of the illusion of his own heroism: trusted by all, beloved by many, doer of REALLY COOL THINGS. That like a dozen people even know who he is doesn't matter; that a number who do know him find him irritating is irrelevant; that he isn't exactly surfing asteroids to land in a war zone is hardly noted. Reality has nothing to do with this. He gives Blurr a serious nod and a promise: << I won't let you down. >> Spoiler: he'll let Blurr down. << It was an Autobot, actually, who knew where she was. Saw enough to have second thoughts and we broke in--. >> He's happy to revisit past adventures on their way to more. It's gonna be great.