Feeling Like a Whirlagig

Whirl is having an extremely bad day. His way of life was uprooted, he's living in a commune with a bunch of people he doesn't know and probably doesn't want to know, and he just stabbed the only person who cared about him so yeah.. pretty crappy day. Since he's kind of a troubled guy, Whirl decides that the best way to deal with his current problems is to get really really messed up, wander around the city, and come out of recharge the next day without remembering a single thing.

Having already consumed an alarming amount of energon and whatever shady, illegal things he mixed into it, Whirl finds himself stumbling through a random street without any real destination in mind. "I hate the wooorld and the wooorld hates me!" the mech sings loudly to himself, snapping his claws at random folks as he walks. "Screw the world! Something something, I forget the rest!"

Blast Off is here after making a delivery to the rebels at Nyon. He hates it... hates playing transport for Swindle, but... it's a job, at least. And it earns a little shanix, which he needs too. The shuttle has a lot on his mind. A major one? The fact that he was just tricked, imprisoned, tortured and nearly had his spark extracted at the prison in Kolkular. The Decepticons came to his rescue, got him just in time- just as the machinery was coming down, the knives were cutting his chest open (with no painkillers), and he thought he was about to be subjected to his worst nghtmare- that limbo of nothingness- for the \*second\* time in his life. The experience has left him numb... subdued, and rather blank. There are other things, too... but right now he's just trying really hard not to think of those at all.

No, he doesn't want to feel anything. It would be better to push everything aside and distance himself entirely from the world. With that in mind... Blast Off finds himself heading to a bar. What bar? He doesn't care. To drink... he doesn't care. He'd just like to forget.

It's almost like Primus himself was watching and said 'I bet it would be funny if these guys bumped into eachother' because as soon as Whirl comes around the corner, he sees none other than Blast Off. Well, he sees lots of Blast Off's right now and some of them keep fading in and out of existence but whatever, he's there.

"Well well well, look who we have here! It's the nerd with the weird feet!" He hmmm's loudly to himself, looking the other mech up and down. A few times. "You following me or something? What's your deal, guy? Why are you following me?"

Blast Off stops and turns to look at this guy who is going on and on about being followed and oh my Primus what \*happened\* to that guy- ohhh, right. The shuttleformer remembers now. His jailtime makes his meetign with Whirl seem like something that happened a lifetime ago, but yes... it is hard to forget someone who looks like that. He was there when he met Torque- who is the person he can thank for his shiny new, nicely repaired feet.

The shuttle would usually huff indignantly at this point, but instead he stares blankly at Whirl. His voice is rather flat. "What makes you think I'm following you? Maybe you're following me?"

Whirl totally noticed Blast Off's awesome new feet but chose not to say anything about it because he couldn't think of anything really insulting to say about them. "I think I would know if I was following someone!" he snaps, meeting the other mech's flat tone with one of aggression. "Last time I saw you it was in the Forge and that place is pretty damn far away. Don't you think it's EXTREMELY CONVIENIENT that you just happened to travel to the exact same city I did? What's your angle, man?"

Suddenly, a thought comes to Whirl. No doubt Barricade went and flapped his lips about their confrontation and got everyone all up in a tizzy about it. Barricade hangs out at the Forge. He met Blast Off at the Forge. Therefore Blast Off is working with Barricade! It all makes perfect sense to Whirl in his intoxicated mind.

"WHO SENT YOU!?" Whirl yells, snapping his claws at Blast Off.

And actually, that's \*not\* a bad conclusion. It's a wrong one, but there is some logic to it. But Blast Off is here to make deliveries, not fulfill his old work as an assassin. However, he's not going to blather on about secret deliveries to Hot Rod's group of rebels, either. It's hush-hush stuff, and he has no way to know Whirl has anything to do with Hot Rod now. Nor is he particularly inclined to get gabby with someone snapping claws at him, anyway.

The shuttleformer may be traumatized and withdrawn, but he's also a Combaticon and an ex-Primal Vanguard. His reflexs kick in immediately and he springs back. "None of your business! Who says anyone sent me, anyway?" Though come to think of it, he realizes why Whirl's suspicious... that bulletin from Barricade mentioned Whirl- perhaps word has reached him. But HE's not the one with the kill order... it's Shiftlock. That causes him to scowl again under his faceplate. Making another long step back, Blast Off attempts to move past the cyclops and continue on his way- keeping an optic on him as he does so. "Now get out of my way. I'm allowed to walk down a city street, last time I checked."

Whirl is unaware of the kill order on Shiftlock at the moment, all he knows is that there was a good reason he and Shiftlock disappeared that region and came to Nyon. He doesn't really care if people want to hurt him but she's a different story and Barricade was /really/ pissed off so.. yeah.

When Blast Off tries to move past him, Whirl rebuffs his attempt by blocking his path of travel with his body. "Did you just try to tell me what to do? Because I don't like when people tell me what to do." He gives the shuttleformer a rough shove to the chest because he's a huge jerk and he's kind of drunk and also he's looking for an excuse to get in a fight. "How about you STEP OFF?"

Blast Off doesn't like being told what to do, either. Like, REALLY. No kidding- just check out his official motto. The shuttle is still much more subdued and flat in tone than usual, but this mech is really starting to step on some raw circuits. And he now realizes this is Whirl, and he's got something to do with Shiftlock, and it just irritates him further. And then Whirl has to go and \*shove\* him backwards.

NOW he's mad. Well, for Blast Off, at least. There's a loud hufffff as he staggers back, quickly catching himself. He also doesn't like being touched- or people getting into his personal space. His trigger finger twitches once- then twice. "That makes TWO of us." The shuttle takes a step back, bracing for a possible fight himself, and contemplating whether to bring his weapon out. Really, he ought to just leave- he could fly away. But his pride demands he stay here. Plus, this being Whirl makes him wonder just what the mech is doing here anyway. And lastly... Blast Off was just subjected to all kinds of tortures, stress, and confinement- with no means to let off steam. It's possible he might not mind a fight for once, either. "How about you stop acting like a drunken idiot? I am armed, and I /WILL/ shoot you."

Threatening to harm Whirl doesn't deter him in any way. In fact, it encourages him because it lets him know he's getting on someone's nerves and pushing their buttons and that.. well, that's just great! Blast Off's threat is no exception and Whirl lets him know by getting up in his face and shouting like some kind of crazy person. "Then do it! Come on! You think you're tough!? You think I should be scared of you!?" He shoves Blast Off again, this time with both arms. "Do it! SHOOT ME!"

Blast Off is expecting Whirl to show some sort of sense. Usually people \*back off\* when you threaten to shoot them. He's obviously not dealt with Whirl much. As the shuttleformer gets shoved back \*again\*- that's IT. His personal space has been intruded upon once too many times lately. He sees shades of Pharma, and his malicious grin as the medic intruded into Blast Off's personal space- painfully cut into Blast Off's chest- threatened everything he was. Suddenly there's a cold fire in the Combaticon's violet optics, and a blaster materializes in his hands, grabbed from subspace. It's not his usual ionic blaster- that was lost to him in prison. But it is a blaster, and it's loaded- and now it fires at Whirl's chest, just as Blast Off promised.

His cultured voice is cold. "Very well."

[Combat:] Whirl partially blocks your attack and takes less damage.

Whirl is kind of screwed up but surely Blast Off has picked up on that by now.

The cyclops makes no attempt to move when he sees that gun come out and he ends up taking the shot right into the chest, the round punching through the glass canopy of his torso and tearing up anything it comes into contact with on it's way through. Whirl lets out a hiss of pain and stumbles backwards, taking a moment to recollect himself and acclimatize to the burning sensation emanating from his wound.

"Heh.. heheheheh.." Whirl throws his head back and his chuckling quickly changes to full on laughter. "Hahahahahaha! Hahahaa! Ha.... MY TURN!" He lunges for the other mech, ignoring his own weaponry and instead using his horrible claws to stab and tear whatever he can grab.

[Combat:] Whirl partially hits Blast Off for minor damage!

Yes, Blast Off is indeed starting to pick up on this. Possibly to his chagrin. He hasn't seen many people react to being shot by... laughing. Gasping? Crying? Grunting? Dying? Yes, he's seen that. Full out laughter... not as often, no. Just as he starts taking a step back... Whirl lunges for him, stabbing with those claws of his.

The shuttle's fast reflexes aid his escape, but Whirl isn't that slow on the draw... and the knife-like blades slip through plates in his armor, tearing and cutting for some superficial damage. It still hurts, though, and the shuttle hufffs once more. He's got to get \*space\*. Get distance. So now he leaps upwards, antigravs kicking in, and attempts to catch some air as he fires off another shot, trying to disable those claws.

[Combat:] You hit Whirl!

Whirl lets out a grunt of frustration when he manages to only cause minimal damage to the other mech. He lashes out for another try but finds his claws clamping shut on nothing but air. Damn that Blast Off! How come he gets to fly in both modes? That's hardly fair, Whirl thinks just before getting another taste of the shuttleformer's blaster. Unlike the first shot, this one is far more crippling; it punches right through Whirl's arm, severing several hydraulic lines and rendering that entire limb useless. Pretty big hinderance, right? One would think he is better off without it than having it dangle by his side like a wet noodle.. and Whirl would agree! That's why he clutches his wounded arm by the wrist with his other pair of claws and, after a few agonizing tugs, rips it right off his body before throwing it as hard as he can at Blast Off.

[Combat:] Whirl partially hits Blast Off for minor damage!

Blast Off flies up into the air, looking down as he goes to see Whirl... pull off his own arm- and THROW IT AT HIM? Ok, again.... wasn't quite expecting that either. This seems to be a recurring pattern. He doesn't have a long time to think about it, though, as that arm hurls at him. The shuttleformer dips to the right, trying to avoid the blow, but still manages to get clobbered somewhat. A clang of metal on metal rings down from the sky as he's knocked into and slowed down a bit.

Blast off glares down at Whirl. "What the SLAG is wrong with you?" There's another huff as he grabs the arm and throws it off to the side, then whirls around, blaster in hand for another shot as he tries to gain distance again. "You have picked a fight with the wrong mech... give it up now and I will show you mercy."

[Combat:] Whirl partially blocks your attack and takes less damage.

Whirl lets out a defiant 'HA!' when his arm hits Blast Off but he's less than pleased when the mech remains airborne. Also, his arm just fell somewhere and at some point he's going to have to go and retrieve it. If he remembers, that is.

Whirl has barely any time to plan his next move when Blast Off opens fire on him again. He raises his remaining arm in a futile attempt to shield himself from the gunfire but ultimately takes the hit in his shoulder. He stumbles backwards, energon oozing from his wounds and trailing down his body before finally pooling in the recesses of his armor. "What's wrong with me!? What's wrong.. with ME?"

"Honestly? A lot." Whirl plops down onto his aft, stretching his legs out on the ground in front of him. It's like his whole demeanor has changed, maybe all he needed was to get shot a few times. "Ugh, look, can we just call this a draw? I don't feel so good anymore."

And AGAIN Whirl does the unexpected... suddenly deciding he's not interested in a fight. Wait, what? Blast Off huffs once more. He's riled up now and itching to let off some steam... he isn't sure he \*wants\* to stop fighting. Especially now, when he seems to have the upper hand! Still... he DID just say \*give it up now and I will show you mercy\*....

Siiiigh. The Combaticon pauses then, his weapon still out but lowering slightly now as he continues to hover in the air. "You concede to me, then?"

Whirl huffs and crosses his arms. "No way! I don't concede to anything! I'm saying we should call it a draw." He shrugs. "Or maybe we can just put it on hiatus. I don't know! I don't know what I want right now." The cyclops flops over onto his back, folding his remaining arm behind his head, gazing up at the sky and Blast Off but only because he just happens to be in the sky. It's not like he likes looking at him for anything.

"Are you here to kill Shiftlock? Yes or no, and be honest." Isn't that why he attacked him? Afraid he was sniffing around for her? Or was that just a convienient excuse? Does he even know anymore??

Blast Off just gives Whirl a deadpan, dry look as the other mech waffles about. Siiiigh again. Would this guy make up his mind so Blast Off knows whether or not to shoot him again? Please, just ...just say you want a fight again. C'mon. The Combaticon's trigger finger itches, though he doesn't pull it. "You don't put fight on...on "hiatus". You either fight, or you don't." Then Whirl mentions Shiftlock and the shuttle's optics flicker. So... Whirl \*does\* know her. Blast Off's optics narrow as he regards the cyclopian mech flopped out before him.

"No. Are /you/?"

Whirl jerks up into a sitting positon when Blast Off poses the same question to him. "What!? Of course not!" He pauses for a moment, his gaze drifting down to the ground. "...Well, not intentionally. It IS kind of my fault the Decepticons want to gut her though, but I'm already taking responsibility for that." Why is he telling Blast Off this? Maybe he's lonely and just wants to talk to someone about it, or maybe he's still kind of drunk.

He rubs his 'face' with his claws, groaning. "It's not like I planned for it to happen! She was all over me! She wanted it so bad! Had I known that it was going to cause all this trouble.."

Blast Off listens to this, and his stare just gets more and more stony as Whirl goes on. That trigger finger starts bending downward once more. The temperature of the shuttle's voice drops lower, as well, until ice could almost form on it. ".... What? Wanted.... what... so bad?" He wants to be perfectly clear on the reason for this murder before he commits it.

Either Whirl is oblivious to the change in Blast Off's voice or he just doesn't care. Either way, he keeps going with his story, sparing absolutely no detail.

"Me, I guess. I don't know, she pretty much came up to me and started talking about how cool looking I was which I don't agree with at all but she was cute so I went along with it. Anyway, one minute I'm beating some guy up in an alley and the next I've got my cable nestled in this femme's port! Do I consider myself lucky? Yes, yes I do. Would I do it again? ...Yes, yes I would. Was it worth it? I.. I don't know. I'd like to think it was."

He just doesn't stop, this guy.

"It was soooooo awesome and intense! It was the best interfacing I've had since.. well, a long time. Ohhhh and her kisses... Primus, I could get addicted to those lips.."

Blast Off has had a very rough time of it lately. Imprisoned, tortured, living through his worst nightmares... finally free once more, he just wanted some peace and quiet. He even recently discovered that Shiftlock is living here and finally had a spark-felt talk with the femme. She even said she \*loved\* him. Whatever she meant by that- it was confusing, as are most of his encounters with her. But still- he restrained himself. He is a \*gentlemech\*, a mature spark, and she is but a wee babe. A newspark. She should be eating lollypops, not drinking high grade. It would be uncouth to press her or express romantic interest or... or...

Wait WHAT DID WHIRL JUST SAY!?!? The shuttle's optics just \*Blaaaze\* purple now as Whirl describes in PAINFUL DETAIL all the things Shiftlock is apparently willing to do with /Whirl/, but not with /him/. Not THAT HE WANTS THAT MIND YOU BECAUSE THAT WOULD JUST BE UNCOUTH RIGHT? And yet... somehow... by the time Whirl gets to "lips"... something just SNAPS. That DOES IT. This guy is TOAST.

Blast Off's hand whips up and he squeezes off not one shot, but several rapidfire all at once, straight at Whirl. "You... you... you... rust-sucking RUFFIAN!!!! GUTTERSNIPE!!! Monster!!!!"

[Combat:] You miss Whirl!

Whirl is still going with his story. "Just the other day we were sitting on the couch and she started making out with me. It was so.. oh man, it was so great! Her lips all over my neck, hands touching and grabbing my body.." He inhales sharply. "Hnnnng.... I'm going to be thinking about that again later, hahaha, you get my drift?" But then Blast Off starts shooting at him for NO REASON.

"Woah HEY!" Whirl rolls to the side just in time, the rounds burying themselves deep into the ground where he was just laying. "I thought we agreed we were going to take a raincheck on the fight! What's wrong with you!? If you didn't like my sexy story, just say so. You don't have to shoot me for it, damn!"

"I mean, if you didn't like it because you're more of a mech kinda guy.."

Blast Off suddenly wonders if Pharma cutting him open without painkillers wasn't actually a kinder form of torture. This just torments the shuttleformer, rubbing salt in his wounds all over again. "How...how...DARE you! Don't you /dare/ lay a hand...." He stops short and asks a question instead. "Exactly how OLD are you, anyway??!! She's a \*newspark!\* How can you... I ought to... I mean...." He continues stumbling over his words, while also finding that an enraged sniper is an inaccurate one as well. His shots go wild, Whirl's quick reactions and Blast Off's fury combining to result in one big whiff fest.

"She deserves a lot better than YOU, that's what wrong with me!!! I..." (Not that he thinks it should be HIM, no, of /course/ not.) At the last comment, Blast Off blinks. "WHAT??!! Mechs? Who said anything about MECHS!!?? Don't YOU start that too!!!" Of course, he's already thinking of Quantum and that whole big major misunderstanding mess from earlier.... "Now HOLD STILL." And he fires off another shot, trying to calm himself enough to focus this time and aim at one of Whirl's legs. THINK before shooting. Shooting without thinking- bad. Focus... focus... and fire!

[Combat:] You miss Whirl!

"How old am I? Ehhhh, I can't remember. Couple thousand years old maybe? Give or take a few hundred yea- HEY! What do you mean by 'lay a hand'? Is that some kind of joke!?" He snaps his claws. "I DON'T HAVE ANY HANDS YOU HAUGHTY NERD!"

Whirl does not obey Blast Off's wishes and he moves around a lot, zig-zagging as fast as his legs can carry him to make it even harder for the shuttleformer to get a lock on him. So far it seems to be working, the poor guy hasn't landed a hit yet. Probably because he's so angry, but what's he got to be angry about? It's not like HE was dating her or anything, right?

"Listen buddy, you need to relax. There's nothing wrong with preferring mechs over femmes. Like, really.. there's literally no difference between them other than how they look." Whirl knows this from personal experience, of course.

Blast Off misses AGAIN??!! What the slag? Ok... this only shows why the Combaticon usually strives to be calm, aloof, collected. A sniper that loses his cool can't shoot straight- apparently. He stops shooting a moment, glaring down at the other mech. Who indeed does NOT stand still. The shuttleformer hufffs. "I do NOT prefer MECHS! I like femmes..." He tilts his head, "Usually." Ok, maybe when he was drunk and really lonely one or two mechs did kinda seem \*hot\* to him... BUT NO MATTER. He rumbles his engines. "You're TOO old, is what you are!" (Of course, at this moment in time, \*everyone\* is too old as far as he's concerned...)

"And how do YOU know? You run around interfacing everyone you meet or something?!" Blast Off does finally stop shooting- at least for a minute. "I'll relax when I've taught you some MANNERS!"

Go around interfacing everyone? Whirl wishes! Ever since he got mutilated by the Senate, the only interfacing he got was achieved through brute physical force. Until Shiftlock, of course. She was the first one since his transformation that not only interfaced him by choice, but showed him love and affection. She made him feel like he was normal again and that's what he liked so much about her.

"Too old? Hmhmhm! I think you could learn a lot from me," Whirl starts, staring up at Blast Off. "I'm experienced in ways you are not. I'm talking about interfacing. I bet I could blow. Your. Mind. Shiftlock certainly enjoyed herself."

If Blast Off manages to hit Whirl /this/ time, it's going to be by sheer dumb luck, because his fuel line pressure is rising through the ROOF now. And apparently he can't hit the broad side of a petro-barn when he's incensed. Optics flash deep purple with rage, and he even begins trembling a bit. "I AM experienced!!! What makes you think I'm NOT??!!" Ok, so space shuttles are generally all ALONE most of the time, but hey, Blast Off HAS had a few... encounters. They are just kind of... like, few and far between. FAR TOO few and far between. And then this femme shows up in his life, and he has \*feelings\* for her, but she seems determined to interface pretty much EVERY SINGLE MECH in the WHOLE ENTIRE PLANET EXCEPT HIM. \*huuuuffffffff\*! Oh. Wait. Not that he CARES. ...Right? Oh... and then Whirl says that /last line/. Oh SLAG IT ALL. "You TALK TOO MUCH, you know that?!" And Blast Off fires off another shot.

[Combat:] You miss Whirl!

Whirl ducks out of the way of Blast Off's shot just in the nick of time, yet again. He's gotten really good at this! It probably helps that the other mech is too angry to shoot straight too. "Oh come on, you inexperience is so obvious! It's written all over your face." Or what little can be seen. "It's okay though, I'm a GREAT teacher. Maybe if you ask me nicely I'll share some of my knowledge with you, show you what Shiftlock enjoyed so much." Oh, now he's just twisting the knife. "You ever been with someone who's been empurata'd before? Ever wonder what our claws would feel like on your body?"

Blast Off just stops a moment and \*stares\* at the barrel of his gun. What. The. Slag. Has he ever missed three times in a row before? If he has, it's been so long he doesn't remember it. It's becoming real obvious that flustered snipers make AWFUL snipers. He looks dispairingly at the weapon, then mutters down to Whirl, "I... I... This is not my usual weapon, if I had THAT I'd be hitting every time of course! This stupid thing must just be... just be out of alignment. Yes, that's it." When Blast Off starts making excuses about poor aim, you know he's a bit... sunk.

His gaze turns towards Whirl once again as the other mech goes on, and the shuttle is just feeling more flustered now that he can't do the ONE thing he's supposed to be good at! "It..it is NOT. I am /SO/ experienced! I just... I just don't go around opening my ports for every random stranger I meet! I..." As Whirl continues on, the shuttlerformer starts shrinking back in mid-air, even more unsettled. "I... Wh..what?" He looks at those claws, then back to that one optic staring up at him. "No... no, of course not..."

Whirl may be missing an arm and riddled with bullet holes but judging by how flustered Blast Off is (and how poorly he's shooting) it would appear that he has the upper hand now. And that's exactly how he likes it.

"How very responsible of you," Whirl says, voice dripping with barely concealed sarcasm. "But I'm not a stranger. We've met before, so you don't have to feel bad." If Whirl was capable of doing so, he would be grinning from robo-ear to robo-ear. He catches Blast Off's glance towards his claws and he snaps them together with a loud, resonating clang. "Ohhhh, realllly? You don't have to lie to me. Surely you can't be just a /little/ bit curious about it, about what it would feel like to have these claws wrapped around your body." The stare he gives the shuttleformer is best described as 'disturbingly intense.'

"What's the point of living if you don't allow yourself to indulge your curiosities?"

Blast Off is indeed starting to feel awkward. VERY awkward. The shuttleformer continues backing away slowly (in mid-air) while staring at the other mech. He flinches at the snap of claws. Yeah, this isn't affecting him at ALL. "I.. well, of COURSE I am responsible! I am a \*gentlemech\*! I have a reputation to maintain, as a High Class shuttleformer. Astro Class, no less! We... we have certain.... standards we must maintain. It is... important."

There's a nervous twitch of a wing elevon, then he just stares. "And I... I... well, curiosity is ... alright. I.. It's good to seek knowledge, but... NOT THAT kind! Not... not... well, I just mean that... BESIDES, those claws would scratch my paint!"

Whirl just follows Blast Off the more he tries to back away, staring up at him the entire time. He is just absolutely loving this right now. THIS is more of what he's used to: relentlessly creeping on someone, making them feel uncomfortable and weird, bringing their guard down so he can more easily strike them. Blast Off is a perfect target too, he's just so... snooty! Only a true snob would brag about how high-class they are, afterall.

"Sounds to me like you're just making excuses now," Whirl says, a hint of playfulness in his tone. "Let me break down your arguement for you. One: The standards you claim to hold yourself to are merely a social contruct brought on by this messed up world we live in. Two: I've had my claws long enough to know how to caress someone without scratching them. Three: Oh, and this one is important... no one will ever know if you feed your curiosity or not. It will be our little secret."

Blast Off is a snob, there's no doubt. He's also got poor social skills- and he's lonely to boot, and Whirl is just making him all kinds of uncomfortable right now. His slow backward mid-air crawl continues... though it's brought to a halt for a moment by Whirl's first point. "Well, no, see, these rules and... and manners are \*important\*, someone has to remain civilized, because... because..." He blinks. Slag it all, Whirl is making \*sense\*. THAT is even more scary and unsettling, and his backward momentum increases now. "Well they just DO!"

As Whirl croons on, Blast Off's nervous twitching is only increasing. "I... I ... I don't need secrets! Or..or claws! Or... Listen, I am a space shuttle. I'm looking for an aerial type. A \*space\* type. Or... at least... someone classy!"

Whirl doesn't really understand it himself but the more Blast Off resists the more Whirl wants him. He's... he's a pretty messed up guy, in case it wasn't obvious already.

"An aerial type, eh? You do know I can fly right?" Whirl gestures to himself with a claw. "I turn into a jet... I was in the Aerial Corp for a while.. I am quite comfortable in the skies, is what I'm trying to say." Oh but wait! There's more. "Class? I've got class. I've never mentioned this to anyone before so you better consider yourself lucky but I used to be a watchmaker. How's that for class?"

Yes, at one point in his life Whirl was actually an interesting guy. Actual interesting, not freak show interesting.

Blast Off is so very much out of his element now. The shuttleformer actually finds himself glancing around, wishing Shiftlock or someone- anyone- would show up and distract this guy. Well... maybe not Shiftlock, come to think of it. He turns to regard the cyclopian mech once again. Optics glance up towards Whirl's aerial kibble. Oh. So he is.

He starts shaking his head slowly. "Well... yes, that's all fine and well, but..." He stops in mid-excuse as Whirl mentions being a watchmaker, looking sharply at the mech's one optic- then his claws. "You were... a watchmaker?" That actually /IS/ kind of impressive.

Aha! Seems Blast Off has a soft spot for the arts. Excellent.

"Oh, yeah. I dropped out of the Aerial Corps to become a watchmaker actually." Blast Off should really consider himself fortunate, even Shiftlock doesn't know a whole lot about his watchmaking, she was only privvy to hazy memories during their interface and that only reveals so much. "I know what you're thinking.. 'But Whirl!' you say, 'how can you be a watchmaker with those claws?' Well the answer is simple. I didn't have 'em! That came later. Much later." He looks down at his claws and sighs. "I was actually good at it. REALLY good. So good that some people got jealous and destroyed my business and.." He shakes his head. "Heheh, listen to me go on. Sorry, but you'll have to get the rest of the story another time. Anyway, how about you come down from there and we can actually talk like regular guys. I promise I wont bite you." Haha, get it? Because he doesnt have a mouth?

Blast Off ...actually finds that he feels just a twinge of sympathy for the mech. For the shuttleformer does indeed have a taste for the arts- for class, for culture, for anything civilized. And he knows the skill it takes to be a watchmaker. His optic ridges furrow a bit as Whirl shares that particular sorrow. "I... am sorry. I know the skill involved, and..." He glances down the street, "It is a shame to lose something like that. We need MORE class in this world, not less."

Looking back to Whirl once more, he considers. However, he's not particularly trusting. "...I think up here is fine." It's odd... he's gone from trying to practically murder the mech in a fit of jealousy to lamenting with him about a loss. Still... He's safe up here. Unless Whirl decides to fly up here, that is. Down there... he's not so sure. "Then you must not be a fan of the governemnt, either, I take it?"

Whirl would never admit it to anyone ever but he finds himself oddly attracted to the shuttleformer. He's torn on wether it's legit attraction or just him getting overly excited about having someone easy to pick on and harass which is usually the case. He also enjoys having someone who actually appreciates the finer things in life like sitting at a desk for weeks putting teeny tiny gears into other gears and other tedious artsy fartsy watch crap. It's weird to think that at one point he actually had ambitions and hobbies and stuff, isn't it?

Whirl shrugs. "No crap I'm not a fan of the government! The government's no fan of me either. I changed my function and that's a big no-no so you can see why there is some animosity. Oh, and they also crippled me and turned me into a hideous monster so yeah, there's that too."

Blast Off would say that it's a legit attraction, simply because he's SUCH a catch, right? Blast Off is simply \*magnificent\*- or so he'd tell most people. Except perhaps for /now/, because he's still rather weirded out by Whirl. Yes, maybe not right now. But he does understand the loss that Whirl experienced, and even feels a brief bit of sympathy for the mech.

"It's yet more injustice in a society gone wrong... a government gone wrong." Well, at least Whirl has enough sense to recognize the government is NO ONE's friend. "Ah... functionism. Of course, \*I\* never questioned my function... nor did I want to. But..." His head slowly nods. "I agree that one ought to have the \*choice\*. I don't want to be told what to do, nor would I disctate to others what \*they\* ought to do with their lives." The Combaticon does finally start drifting downwards, towards the street again. He doesn't land that close to Whirl, of course, but he does finally land.

"I think that's the way a majority of the population feels but they're all too afraid to speak up. I can't really blame them though, bad things happen to people who have conversations like the ones we're having now." Bad things also happen to people who hang out with Whirl but he keeps mum on that for now. Besides, Blast Off will learn all about that later at some point he's sure.

Whirl is delighted when the other mech FINALLY comes down. For a moment he considers really screwing him over and taking a shot at him while he's landed but eh, he's kind of tired and also missing body parts so maybe another time. "Oh hey, since you're over there can you pass me my arm? I think it fell over there. No idea how."

Blast Off gives Whirl a glum nod. "Tell me about it. I saw too much, and ...well, I'm alive right now thanks to MY efforts alone." Well, his efforts and all the people who came to his rescue recently. "Certainly not thanks to the Senate. And... yes, I know you are... all too aware of that reality, too. Things will change, however. There is a rising tide. At some point, it will sweep everything from its path."

The shuttle then gives Whirl a slightly deadpan look. But... sure, if he puts it that way, why not. The Combaticon flies over to the arm, takes it, then flies back to toss it to the other mech. "Ah, yes. You might want to have that looked at sometime," he remarks dryly.

Whirl makes absolutely no attempt at catching his arm. It simply smacks him in the face and falls to his feet with a thump. "Thanks." He stares at Blast Off for what will probably feel like a long time considering how emotionless and blank a stare from someone like him is. He's either really lost in thought or just effing with the poor guy, maybe both for all anyone knows. Kind of weird, that Whirl.

"So this is awkward," he blurts out after a while. "We sat in a repair bay together, we had this intense fight earlier, and just now we're having a conversation like actual people but I still have no idea what your name is. I've just been refering to you as 'snobby dweeb' and 'brown guy with weird feet' and 'shuttle nerd' and, well you get the point."

The arm just smacks Whirl, leaving Blast Off to do a slight double-take, then blink in some confusion. Yeah. He's definitely getting that this mech may not be... all there. Or maybe he is, and he is just... well, one of those artistic types. You know how THEY are. There's one brief, awkward glance to the fallen arm, then he decides to ignore it and returns to focusing on Whirl.

"Oh." The shuttle's expression drops a bit. It IS only polite to give one's name, but given that he's a wanted mech, he hasn't really been keen on the idea. He gives Whirl a bit of an annoyed look at the \*other\* names and... no, no those will NOT do. Blast Off lets out a small \*hufff\*. Oh well, Whirl might get his name from Shiftlock anyway, if he's still seeing her. Which \*shudder\* sounded like a possibility. "Blast Off. I..." He glances away. If Whirl knows Shift, then he might be part of that group, but... he isn't sure. "I was simply here on some business." Glance back towards Whirl. "Why are you here? And also... I am NOT a dweeb. I am quite \*sophisticated\*, as all shuttles should be."

Fortunately for Blast Off, Whirl pays zero attention to anything outside of his own personal world. There was once a time when he paid attention to things like the news and had strong opinions on hot topic issues; he used to be cop and knew the names and faces of various wanted criminals. That was a long time ago, before he served time at Garrus-1. Now he just doesn't give a shit.

"I'm sure you're /very/ sophisticated, Blast Off." Oh yes, this mech is going to be fun. He thinks so highly of himself despite his obvious shortcomings, it's both hilarious and adorable. "I'm here because I got into some trouble and Shiftlock dragged me here. Been staying with some friends of hers. Weird people." The irony! "Just here on business, eh? That's too bad, I was hoping to see you some more. We need to finish our fight eventually."

Blast Off might be surprised (or perhaps not) to learn he does have one thing in common with Whirl (besides Shiftlock)- Garrus-1. It's a source of misery for both mechs, apparently, though he doesn't know that yet. When Whirl seems to agree that Blast off is indeed sophisticated, the shuttleformer seems to puff up a little with pride and nod, quite self-satisfied now. Ah, finally, someone \*acknowledges\* it. FINALLY.

The mention of Shiftlock brings him a bit down to reality once more, but he makes himself listen and... hmm, sounds like perhaps he IS in with that group of people. The Combaticon feels that twinge of jealousy rise, and decides not to specifically mention the ones \*he\* knows, just in case they are different. Somehow. But it sounds like he may well be running into Whirl again- like it or not. At least- outside of Shiftlock, of course- Whirl seems to have some redeemable qualities.

The Combaticon raises an optic ridge at the rest, smirking slightly behind his faceplate. "Oh... I will probably be back. We may... see each other again." He pats his blaster, still lowered at his side. "And I'm sure another fight can be arranged." Of course, if he ever catches Whirl with Shiftlock, another fight is almost guaranteed!

Whirl would probably be surprised to learn that Blast Off served time at all (guy seems like kind of a square) and even more so when he found out it was the same prison he was stuck in. He'd be even more shocked (and amused) when he learned that Blast Off also got some interface action from the same femme he did, perhaps then he would realize that he and the Combaticon have more in common than they thought. But he doesn't know any of that and probably never will. Probably.

"Excellent, I love a good fight. Nothing gets me going better than giving and receiving a good dose of physical pain." At this point Whirl takes a few steps forwards, threatening to invade the massive radius of personal space Blast Off is intent on keeping. "I'm not going to be coy and lie to you, I like you." He's pretty direct, Shiftlock can attest to that. "I've never met someone with a space faring alot mode, thats pretty cool I guess. I want to get to know you better, see what makes you tick." He laughs. "Get it, because I used to make watches? It's a damn good joke."

Blast Off is a study of just such contradictions. He's a Combaticon, a space warrior, a Primal Vangaurd. he knows how to fight (except, apparently, when he's upset about a femme). And yet he's also a "gentlemech" and someone who enjoys a night at the opera as much, if not more so, than some battle. Which is why he never quite fit in on Combatron very well. And sadly for the shuttle, perhaps, he never quite got as far as Whirl did. Of course, Blast Off's own standoffishness is mostly to thank for that. He and Shiftlock got close, hardlined even, but never actually interfaced. Which is something Blast off regrets now, possibly, but that would require he actually \*think\* about that and that's not something he wants to do right now. No, it would be uncouth to think such things, right? Right. Odds are, though- he will have to think about this later- especially if he and Whirl meet again. Which somehow... seems likely!

The Combaticon nods... at least until the part about pain. He doesn't mind giving pain in combat, not so sure he likes \*receiving\* it. "Yes, well... I came from Combatron. As you can imagine, we did a lot of... combat." Ha ha, get THAT?

Then Whirl steps forward, and yes, he does indeed begin intruding on that massive personal space radius the shuttle maintains. But perhaps he can be slightly forgiven- he IS a space shuttle, after all, his idea of space is the \*entire universe\*. Just staying on one planet seems a bit... cramped sometimes. Blast Off's wing elevon twitches and he leans back. "You...what?" Wait a minute, is this guy serious?! The shuttle's not sure how to take this, but his alarm level is rising. Though... honestly, he DOES have a point. "Well, I...uh, yes, there used to be more of us space class types but since the Clampdown, well, you know, we haven't been maintained so well," he shrugs and glances away. He looks up again at Whirl's claws. "Yes, well... heh, yes. I..I see. Well, I guess I can't... \*blame\* you, after all, but..." There's a step back. "I... uh..." He suddenly looks away like he's realizing how late it just got. "I... should be going! Look at the time!"

If there's one thing Whirl loves more than punching people, it's pushing thr boundary of what is and isn't acceptable so when Blast Off fails to impede him, Whirl takes a couple more steps forward. It's like approaching a timid animal, taking slow gradual steps forward until you were close enough to grab it which is exactly how the cyclops is looking at this. The Combaticon's nervousness only eggs him on, like it was posing a fun challenge to tackle. "I don't know about any other shuttle types, but you appear very well maintained." He can't help but twitch the barbaric contraptions that replace his hands, thoughts of sinking his claws into that armor of his clouding his mind.

Then Blast Off makes up some lame excuse to leave and Whirl grunts in what could be taken as annoyance. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. It's pretty late, I guess? I have no idea what time it is but okay, whatever. Run along, Blast Off. I'll be seeing you again, I'm sure..."

It's a good thing Cybertronians don't blush, because Blast Off might just have done that when Whirl comments about how "well maintained" he looks. And actually, that's kind of nice the other mech noticed. He \*tries\*, you know? "I...yes, well, it's not easy, living where I do, but I feel maintaining appearances is important. A little polish /here/ when you can find some, maybe a little high luster paint /there/..." Now he's just kind of stammering. As Whirl takes steps towards him, the shuttle starts taking steps back. That intent look is making him exceedingly nevous, and those claws look like they'd just rake all over him, prying open every surface, tickling his heat shields, sinking into the cracks of his armor, and... Oh slag.

The shuttle hops back now, entire wings twitching as he kicks in anti-gravs to prepare for flight. "Um. Yes. Very. ...Interesting to meet you." With that, the thoroughly unnerved shuttleformer launches for the air- and escape, rocketing off towards his new home in Kaon. Where he'll try NOT to think of Whirl. And those claws.