It Takes All Kinds

-What a cycle. At least, it had been for the femme sitting right at the bar, her large tires hanging over the edge and obscuring the view of her from behind. So anyone coming in would see just four very large tires on a stool, with some legs hanging down the front. It would be comical if the air about the femme was not somewhat meloncholy. The old columns and faded decor of a once respectable building, long since delapidated then converted to a bar, enhance the mood of discouragement. It's a quiet night with only a few other patrons nursing their drinks, everyone at a table of their own. Everyone is drinking alone - all with some sort of sad tale that could bring them together, but instead, alienates them from one another, even within the same room.

       "Yeah, erm, keep, yeah, I'd like anudder.... oner these..." Swivel says, pointing down at a now empty glass of a fairly weak, and very inexpensive, drink.

-Iacon was way too pristine for the once-smuggler. Moonlight isn't even sure what she is now, except for thirsty. So, here she is. She had deliberated between taking a crazy route here, but since she's new to the planet, she took a straight path; there will be time enough in the future to evade people following her, or so she hopes. For now it's sufficient that she gets some drinks in her. And so here she is. She didn't want to wander /too/ far from Iacon, since that's where all her stuff is, so Nyon seems to be the next best destination. For a moment she gawks at the tires with legs, but then shrugs her shoulders and approaches the bar to take a look at what they're serving.

-For someone who soars so high, Airazor is used to low places. It comes with the badge. The diminutive femmebot pushes open the door to the joint and lets her green optics sweep the area. She stands out from the other patrons, lacking the usual mechanical kibble and instead adorned with synthetic feathers that shimmer in the low light. Satisfied that she won't be jumped just for setting foot in the dive, the Maximal approaches the bar and takes a seat near Swivel, just a stool away. Her optics glance in that direction, but then await the arrival of the bartender, after they've seen to Moonlight.

-"--I'm not crazy, /you're/ crazy." An otherwise quiet conversation buried in the dark corner of the bar breaks into loud near-violence as Hot Rod stands up and slams his hands on the table. Yes. He's been here. He was just -- you know, shadows, relatively quiet, easy to overlook. He was totally keeping with the quiet sad alienated solitude aesthetic they had going on. Up until three seconds ago. Not easy to overlook now.

His tablemate departs with a disgusted noise. So they agree to disagree, then. This leaves Hot Rod stewing after his back with a, "You'll be sorry!" called after him. Way to look like a winner, buddy! He seethes a moment, then collects his empty cube to stomp for the bar.

-Things are picking up rather quickly. Just as Swivel got her refill, there was quite a pallette of new stimuli. First off, to one side, there was a femme wearing a hat. At first she just thought it was a rediculously shaped helmet, but a closer looked indicated that it wasn't part of her. To the other side of her, a feathered femme. Had Swivel not been preoccupied with self-pity, she might have drawn the conclusion that it was that very Hawk that buzzed her some cycles ago. Swivel honestly was afraid whatever it was, it was going to eat her. Instead she ended up having a conversation with it instead. And a few small punctures in her chassis. And lastly, there is the explosion of heated tempers, one of the voices sounding familiar. When she looks behind herself, an she has to twist her torso as well as her head to see being the rather inconveniently placed tires, she sees Hot Rod stomping. She quickly turns back to her drink and grabs hold of it, staring rather intently into the glass to keep her gaze averted.

-Well, /that/ got Moonlight's attention. She turns away from the bar to look at the little spat that Hot Rod is throwing. Grinning to herself, she shakes her head. Then that same mech comes up to the bar. She leans back in her seat and gives him a slow once-over. Chuckling softly she speaks up, "Hey now, someone with paint like that should be smiling." She pushes her hat back a slight bit and offers him a wink.

At this point she notices the femme with the feathers, which strikes her as rather interesting, since she's only really seen them on organic specimens. "Nice feathers," she notes, miming the tipping of her hat in Airazor's direction.

Swivel gets a second glance as she takes a moment to get her face away from her drink, but as she goes back to it quickly, Moonlight doesn't interrupt. She might not always be the wisest femme, but she considers it a personal policy not to get between a patron and her, or his, drink.

-Hot Rod may not be the only familiar face (what is visible of it behind that faceplate, at least) that is about to show up. Blast Off steps through the bar, looking slightly wary. More than usual. He scans the bar as if looking for someone and, NOT seeing them, seems to breathe a sigh of relief and head in. Except that- wait-a-minute, he just saw HOT ROD. The Combaticon tenses a little, staring at the mech.... then shakes his head and strides towards the bar, putting on his best aloof demeanor and ignoring everyone for now. He needs a drink ASAP.

-"Let me get another drink, and I'll work on it." Hot Rod answers Moonlight with a quick glance and the suggestion of what might be a smile given a little more time to grow into it. He regards her hat with a mild note of consternation. "Okay. What's that?" he asks.

Glancing past Moonlight to see if the bartender is ready to work his way down toward them yet, Hot Rod marks Swivel just on the other side. "Oh -- hey! Swivel! Wow, you look down." The promised smile has settled and warms his voice. Whatever irritation caused his earlier outburst, it's run from his shoulders like so much water. It lingers only in the tension that squares the set of his shoulders.

-Airazor leans against the bar, lacing her black-armored fingers together and glancing down towards where Hot Rod has arrived. "He makes you nervous, huh?" Airazor notes in her husky voice (thanks Pauline Newstone) towards Swivel, though she doesn't look at the other small bot. Eventually the Maximal settles back, not taking much notice of the new arrivals. In fact, she seems quite comfortable around the rough and tumble of the Nyon dive. When Moonlight makes a comment on her feathers, the Animatron femme straightens to look past Swivel to the dark bot. "I'm impressed you even know what a feather is." Airazor notes with a smirk. "You must be well traveled. What's good here? All I've had so far on Cybertron is swill."

-Swivel mutters very quietly to Airazor, "Not 'zactly... jus' not in th'mood..." quietly. VERY QUIETLY. So Hot Rod doesn't hear. not that it matters, for she was spotted. Swivel was exhausted from her earlier emotional outburst and is not sure she could manage going through it again. And when her and Hot Rod's paths crossed, she opened up like a self-cracking nut. Not that such things exist. The idea of trying to talk to Hot Rod without getting flustered and hysterical again doesn't seem likely. Admittedly, this time she wasn't under the influence of a nasty mix of unidentified drinks. Just one and a half very weak drinks that barely qualify as anything but soft. When Swivel sees Blast Off, she idly wonders if she should walk over there and claim an acquaintence and pretend not to hear Hot Rod. Maybe open with some line about 'long time no see'. But Swivel knows it's too late to put up a pretense. So instead, she grins and turns to look at Hot Rod.

       "Wellum, guess bein' down's m'new pass time. But I'm sure it's jus' temp," Swivel responds in her terrible, terrible butchery of language. Shr glances back at her glass and adds, "Sure t'wunt last." Maybe because she'll likely soon be dead. Blurr DID say he should have killed her, and he just might do that one of these days.

-"It's a hat," Moonlight says easily to Hot Rod. "The squishies have all sorts of them. I just happened to like /this/ kind." Then she sees him smile when talking to the other femme. "There, isn't that much better?" she asks him with a big grin.

Looking back to the bird-lady, Moonlight nods her head. "Well-traveled, yeah, you could say that. I've bounced around quite a bit of space. There was actually an avian like organic on the crew I ran with, so yeah, I know feathers. Though yours are probably a big deal sturdier." She laughs softly. "I've been looking at the list of drinks myself wondering what might be good."

A rather stuck up looking mech approaches the bar and she just shakes her head and makes a small sound of amusement.

Hearing Swivel talk more, she gets that 'light bulb above her head' look on her face. She points at the small femme with the big tires, "Hey, I think I recognize your voice!" she says.

-Blast Off notices more of the bar's patrons. Especially at the sound of a particular voice. Is that Swivel? She's the one he can never quite undertsnad. Slag, someone needs to give that femme some enunciation lessons! The Combaticon continues looking through the room, not recognizing Airazor since the only time he ever saw her, she was in falcon mode, not that one. Moonlight- he heard her on radio, but hasn't seen her yet. Though his audials perks up at the mention of "traveled through space". For now, he just orders a drink, then watches Hot Rod.

-"You should get a better hobby," says Hot Rod with his usual sensitivity and tact. He more or less leaves Swivel alone after that, looking past her to Airazor. He studies the feathers with a curious gaze. After a beat, his gaze narrows. "Hey, you weren't with Scorn's delegation, were you?" He sounds awfully wary for no obvious reason.

Dragging his gaze back to Moonlight's hat, Hot Rod considers it. "Eh, I guess they do all kinds of weird things out there, right? Probably not the weirdest." He does not sound like a fan of hats. Turning away to lean both elbows on the bar, he glances in the other direction. It's only then that he notes Blast Off, and he does so with an obvious, belated startle. "What."

-A minibot arrives, strolling through the bar with a lot more swagger than any mini has the right to have. Rumble is much more accustomed to the crowd at the Jump Joint; this place is more like a buffing parlour in comparison. As he passes Blast Off's table, he asks, "What is up with this place? It's such a slaghole, everyone's passin' out in their poufy cocktails. Sheesh!"

Rumble heads for the bar, and has a seat on Swivel's opposite side. He has to climb up on the barstool in order to reach the bar, and even then it's an effort for him.

-"'Oo, me?" Swivel asks, her optic ridges raised high as she looks at Moonlight, a bit surprised. But then, the femme's voice does sound familiar. So does the femme with the, uh, what were they called, feathers? So many familiar voices. Except that of the swaggering pipsqueak - one of the few mechs Swivel is actually bigger than. She watches him scramble up onto the stool with some interest. Suddenly, she wonders what YX-939 is up to. Hopefully, Blurr hasn't terrorised him since the last time.

       "Dun need a better 'obby, this one is all smiles 'n refracted light," Swivel remark to Hot Rod with an obviously fake grin. Well, maybe she could just make light banter and avoid the touchy subjects.

-Moonlight doesn't care if Hot Rod likes her hat or not; SHE likes it and that's what's important, right? "Well, from someone who has poked into a bunch of different cultures, I'm pretty sure the things that happen here would strike some of them as weird," she points out to the flame-wearing mech. "Cybertron certainly isn't the center of the universe, and all things do not flow to and from it." She grins, leaning to give him a friendly thump on the back if he doesn't stop her. "Hope that bit of information doesn't break your spark." She flicks a glance to Blast Off as Hot Rod demands 'What' of the shuttleformer.

Then Rumble comes in and calls down the place. She gives the small mech a big grin and gestures to the bar. "Well, why don't you tell me about the stuff you like to drink? And then maybe give me an opinion on what on this list you might enjoy." Sliding her hat back, she gives him a quick wink.

"Yes you," Moonlight says to Swivel. "You have a pretty distinct way of speaking and I'm sure I heard you just before I touched down on the planet." If anyone was curious, yes, this is the femme that just arrived the other night.

-"Must be another bot from Animatron." Airazor comments towards Moonlight as she mentions another avian. "Though most of my flying is terrestrial." She notes, smirk turning to a more good-natured grin. The individuals congregating at the bar get no more than a glance, to the Maximal they're just background. When Hot Rod mentions Scorn, Airazor fixes her green optics on him, as if prying into every nook at cranny of his form. "No." She replies. "I serve Victory Leo. If that means anything to you, you'll know I'm not part of any other delegation from Animatron."

-Blast Off's audials also perk up at Hot Rod's mention of Scorn. What about Scorn? Just as he's pondering that, the other mech spots him and startles. The Combaticon gives him a slightly deadpan look. "Why do you already sound guilty?" He leans in towards the other mech (though he's not that close, so it's not like he's getting into that dreaded \*personal space\* the shuttle's so keen on keeping (usually >\_>)). Blast Off stares at Hot Rod, violet optics bright in the bar light. "Did you \*hear\* that radio broadcast last cycle?!?" He doesn't sound happy. (Then again, he rarely does.) His drink arrives and he takes an angry swallow through the small hatch on his faceplate, then goes back to glaring.

The glaring is interrupted when Rumble suddenly appears out of nowhere, leading him to look down and stare at him a moment. "Rumble? Uh..." He lets out a small huff. "I am not drinking anything \*poufy\*." And for once, he's actually telling the truth. Call the doctor, something's wrong. He ordered a \*beer\*. Blast Off takes another swig of his unfitting drink, then looks back at Hot Rod expectantly. Though- again- he glances over at Moonlight. Her voice sounds kind of familiar and she keeps talking about \*space stuff\*. HMMM.

-Hot Rod places his hand over his spark and gives Moonlight a very good wounded look. "What? Next thing you're going to tell me that Nyon's not the dazzling capital of Cybertron. Then I'm /really/ going to be offended." His smile has by this point become a grin, although it tips a little crooked as he answers Swivel with a gently skeptical, "Uh huh." He allows her the lie: one faker to another.

"Victory Leo, huh? So -- uh, what's that mean? Scorn was after this Cheetor guy, who I've never heard of," says Hot Rod like someone who has /totally heard of him/. SPEAKING OF GUILTY -- he sideeyes Blast Off. "No reason." He leans away. "Wait, what broadcast? What are you talking about? If this is about the sky spy stuff, I think people need to know."

-"Yeah, I did notice you're drinkin' stronger stuff lately," Rumble remarks to Blast Off. "That, uh...that signify somethin'? Cause that could mean somethin'." Rumble has no actual idea WHAT drinking stronger stuff would signify other than, perhaps, an energex habit. But he leaves that particular comment up in the air for interpretation.

Then, there's this femme at the bar with some kind of a poufy-looking hat. Rumble stares at the hat. "I ain't seen somethin' like that since I worked on Arcanus Four...the locals there used to have these drinkin' hats. But I'm pretty sure that ain't one a'them." He grins cheekily, then stares at the drink menu. "Naw, see, all these drinks? See, they're all these different addictatives an' colorations...but it's all the same thing. Weakened energex. That's the kinda drink you carry around like...like you ain't gonna actually \*drink\* it. You just wanna be seen \*with\* the drink, so the drink ends up bein' like fashion or somethin' like that," he tells Moonlight.

-Considering the amount of activity in the bar, a new arrival may go unnoticed. On the other hand, said new arrival is Whirl and his empurata makes him stick out like a sore thumb. It takes him a whopping four seconds to spot Blast Off (he is getting REALLY good at picking him out of a crowd) and the rest of those familiar faces with him.

"OH, HEY YOU GUYS." Whirl practically /shouts/ as she forcefully shoves himself between Blast Off and who ever had the misfortune of sitting beside him. "What a nice surprise seeing all of you here!" He nods his head a few times. "I am very drunk already. Hello. What are we talking about?"\

-"Oh yeah, the broadcast. I din 'ear all it. Was 'fraid the sky spies 'er sumtin'd track peeps down 'oo were badmouthin' Cybertron on it. I din wanner be on'ovem." Swivel explains. "Though, hinsight, mebbe I was bein' a wee," she holds up her hand, her index finger and thumb barely not touching, "bit 'noid. It canna be tha' bad if y'all.." Swivel is interrupted by a particular empurata. Well, the only one she knows, really. "See? Whirl 'ere is livin' proof they 'ent tracin' our 'casts, coz I'm sure affer sayin' wot 'e did bout Cybertron so publicly 'n all, 'e'd be dead or disappeared." Actually, Whirl is living proof of the corruption of Cybertron Swivel is half the time trying ot deny, and the other half trying to justify. Okay, maybe one third for both of those, for there is an equal portion in the conflict that is intrigued and wants to fight the badness.

-"Naw, it was an organic, or squishy, as I like to call them. Because they are. Squishy." Moonlight nods a few times to Airazor. "Some of them get offended but," and she shrugs, "that's their problem."

She raises her drink to Hot Rod (when did she get that?), "It might not be the shining capital, but it's a sight better than Iacon. The place practically SQUEAKS with cleanliness." Whether she's talking about literal or figurative cleanliness isn't apparent. Then, "What are sky spies?"

"No, this isn't a drinking hat. It's just something I picked out to seem more approachable to the squishies and it sort of grew on me. Now I feel it represents me." Then Moonlight laughs at the mention of the drinks. "Sounds terrible. So, where would you suggest a femme gets a good drink on this planet?" she asks Rumble.

Then Whirl shows up, being loud and shovey so it's hard to miss him. She gets a look at his single optic and claws and another 'light bulb' look shows up on her face. "Are you the so-called 'vile criminal' from the chatter the other night?" she asks him straight out, though there's a good deal of amusement in her voice rather than censure.

Oddly Moonlight doens't seem to have any trouble with Swivel's speech at all. "Well, a little paranoia can be healthy, but a lot just makes a person miserable, lonely, or both." She shrugs her shoulders.

-Blast Off gives Hot Rod a \*you have GOT to be kidding\* look, hands coming to splay out on the bar in front of him. "What? You didn't hear the broadcast last night? The one where... where.... /SHE/ was blabbering all over Cybertron about YOU- and headaches!- and PHARMA?!?" The Combaticon gives him an intense stare. Swivel seems to know what he's talking about at least!

Again he is spoken to by Rumble, and he glances over at the smaller mech. "I...uh, well, I like to try new things!" (No he doesn't.)

And then WHIRL appears. AWKWARD. The shuttleformer freezes, going stiff as a board. Almost like he's trying to become invisible now. But then he slowly, ever so slowly... starts shrinking down and away as if hoping to slip away before the cyclops spiots him there. BUT TOO LATE, Whirl sits down next to him. Blast Off leeeans away and concentrates on making sure his cooling fans don't start up, because that would just be \*embarrassing\*.

-Airazor receives a shot of something that glows purple with just a hint of blue. The Maximal downs the drink in one go, as required of a law abiding officer. "Crewing with organics? You're very brave." Airazor notes to Moonlight. She rises from her stool, slipping off to the floor. The last is reserved for Hot Rod: "Let me know if you find that guy who doesn't exist." Airazor notes. "And, if you do find, him, tell Scorn last." With that, the Maximal heads towards the door. The bar is a little crowded for her tastes.

-"Nah. Pretty hard to be paranoid when the Senate's /actually/ trying to figure out how to turn all of us into their spies," says Hot Rod like a paranoid conspiracy theorist. (Perhaps his earlier outbreak now makes a little more sense, eh?) He's more than happy to explain, "Sky spies are how the Senate in Iacon keeps track of us all. Seriously, go outside, go for a flight, can't miss them. Ask him." He thumbs at Blast Off, who is being ... intense.

Awkward.

Hot Rod resets his vocalizer with a click and a clearing. "Uh. I'm going to guess it was Shiftlock from the headaches and Pharma, huh? Yeah, I was going to tell -- well, both of you," he corrects, when Whirl shoves in. "I went to visit Shiftlock. She attacked me. Or -- well, they programmed her to, and she fought it."

To Moonlight, he adds, "Oh, by the way, the Senate also kidnaps people and programs them to turn against their friends. Welcome to Cybertron!"

-Considering how obvious Blast Off's discomfort is, Whirl can't help but notice it and he does the only thing he knows in a situation like this: make it worse! He throws an arm around the shuttleformer's shoulders and further violates his personal space by drawing him close in a weird side hug.

"Shiftlock is dead!" He blurts out, gesturing at Hot Rod with a claw. "...Not really. Like, physically she's still there but MENTALLY she's gone!"

To Moonlight (who he has never met before but hey this is a great first impression right?) he just laughs. "Ohh yeah! The Senate SUCKS. They ruined my life. Look at me! They did this to me!"

-WHAT? This reprogramming thing Hot Rod mentions is new. Well, he did mention rewriting people, but she sort of selectively didn't hear that when they last spoke. And the thing about Blurr. Actually, the conversation got a bit hazy after a point. But this time it was harder to ignore, what with being much more sober. Much more sober. Two drinks is her usual limit. Anyhow, although the femme does not say anything, 'WHAT!?' is written all over her face. In bold letters. With all kinds of colourful lines going out from it to add both direction and intensity.

       "Yeah.. warned ya...." Swivel says weakly to Moonlight. Of course she didn't warn her of anything but being unable to leave again. But at that point she hadn't quite believed all of the tales of corruption. She then looks at Whirl, and doesn't seem made awkward by the awkwardness that is Whirl and Blast Off. After all, she has scene and heard MUCH worse from those two. "Glad t'see yer a'right, Whirl. Thought f'sure you was gunna disappear 'coz o' the gov 'r drink yerself into a self'structive stupor an' go offline fer, like, a vorn or somethin'. Jus the way ya was on the broadband, 'n all... but yer 'ere and well! Cheers!" Swivel lifts a mostly empty and heavily watered down drink. This one has no colour in it. It's just watered down, so it is only half pouffy. Or rather, just really sad. Focus on happy thoughts, Swivel, happy thoughts.

-Moonlight nods to Airazor as she leaves. "Bravery had nothing to do with it," she states. Then she turns back to Hot Rod. "So, if they're watching everyone, why hasn't anyone busted in here to take us all out?" she asks him. "I don't doubt that they have spies, but surely they aren't EVERYWHERE yet." Then she shuddered. "No wonder that city gave me the creeps." When she hears about reprogramming, that gets her to actually pull a fully serious face. "They can DO that?" Does she mean are the allowed, or do they have the capability? It's hard to tell.

But then Rumble speaks up and she's grinning again. "Jump Joint, Kaon. Got it." She blinks. "Where is that?" Yeah, she's new. "I still don't know my way around."

Glancing over at Whirl, and his strange appearances, she focuses on those claws. "Good thing you don't have to worry about tying shoe-laces," she notes, trying to instill some levity into her comment. "Seriously, though, I would be saying the same thing if they did that to me. Well, I'd be saying a lot more, but you've probably said it all a thousand times already, yeah?" Then she focuses more on trying to determine his other mode and grins.

She nods her head to Swivel. "Well, there are still fewer people /here/ that want me dead than there are out /there/ for the time being, so I'll settle for this crazy-aft planet."

-Blast Off staaares some more at Hot Rod. He seems to be doing this a lot. "She.... what?" He isn't sure whether to be outraged that Hot Rod didn't tell him sooner about this or... or given what he heard last night.... maybe there wasn't much to say. The shuttle's shoulders sag slightly and he turns back to his drink, taking a large swallow. "I knew it..." he says more quietly, "She's... gone. She'll never BE able to fight it. Apparently she gets... "headaches" if she does. She heard my voice.. Whirl's voice... and it only caused her pain."

Speaking of pain, then Whirl slings an arm around the Combaticon's shoulders and he suddenly LOOKS like he's in it. Mainly due to embarrassment because those cooling fans suddenly kick in. He freezes once more, except for the ocassional twitch. "Get....off...." He \*sounds\* pained, too. Again, mostly from embarrassment. And having NO IDEA what to say to the other mech, given that the last time he saw him, they...uh... well, he doesn't want to think about it right now.

-"She remembers something, Whirl," Hot Rod says. He shakes his head and dips a finger into his drink to doodle on the bar's surface. Don't expect anything actually intelligible in his puddles. It's a fidget suggesting nerves or discomfort more than anything else. "There's definitely stuff missing. I also don't know what's really left of her, but there's enough that she fought the programming. Don't say she'll never be able to, Blast Off." He glances up with the words, and only pauses to blink a moment at the coziness. His lips twitch, but he can't tease, he can't laugh, because he goes on to say, "Those headaches? That was her trying."

Glancing over at Moonlight, Hot Rod smiles. It's a tense thing, bitten in close at the edges. He laughs, short and sharp. "Oh, yeah. They had a whole -- thing. We took it down. They used to have a whole system for it, called it the Institute."

-"Oh, it's...you take a left turn at Vos, an' you just keep goin'," Rumble explains to Moonlight. "You'll hear it before you see it, it's the best bar on the planet." At the moment, he's giving all of his concentration to mixing some abomination of a drink inside a large container. He pours all of the drinks the 'tender gives to him into the container, and the mixture sizzles fiercely. "'Kay, we're gettin' somewhere now," he mumbles, grabbing a ladel and sticking it into the mixture. The ladel promptly dissolves. "Oh, <CENSORED>. Kinda strong...heh. Well, you get the idea. They rip you off here, see. Put poufy stuff innit an' it ain't a drink anymore."

-The news that Shiftlock has actually made attempts (even if they were futile ones) to fight the reprogramming she had inflicted on her almost manages to give Whirl a teeny tiny, super small, almost microscopic sliver of hope. Almost. "So you.. saw her? How does she look? Do you think there's anyway she can be fixed? What are they doing to her? Where are they keeping her? Has that Quickswitch guy hurt her!?" So many questions, all of them shot off in rapid succession; Whirl not even giving Hot Rod a chance to answer the first one before the rest come flowing out.

Blast Off's discomfort only serves to delight Whirl, the cyclops getting a sick sort of pleasure out of his reaction, especially considering what happened the last time they hung out together. Good times. Goooood times. "Come on Blast Off, don't be so mean to me." He leans in, practically draping himself over the shuttleformer. "I'm saaaaad. And druuunk. And.. other thiiiings."

There's a glance over at Moonlight after she speaks, Whirl looking her up and down before perking up. "Hey.. can you fly?"

-Swivel idly glances over and watches Rumble pouring all sorts of drinks into one, and for a moment, she looks as though she might be ill. Yeah. She did something like that VERY recently. Still pieceing together memory corruption from that one. She sneaks a side glance at Hot Rod. She's sure he was a proper gentlemech. Speaking of gentlemechs, Swivel casts a glance at Blast Off and his obvious discomfort. She really doesn't understand the interactions between those two. After a moment, she slips off of her stool and walks over to Blast Off. Quick. Think of something.

       "'Oy, um, you," she says to get Blast Off's attention. "I jus 'membered sumtin'... a message I needa tell ya, and only you." She tilts her head towards the furthest corner of the room from the bar, and will also fix Whirl with a stern 'stay put' stare if he even so much as looks like he's about to leave his seat. Although, stern coming from Swivel is a bit laughable. She just does not have the face for stern. In fact, her stern face looks more like a pout. Almost. Perhaps she could take lessons from Prowl.

-Hot Rod's statement about Shiftlock "trying" causes Blast Off to cease feeling embarrassed for a moment, looking over at him with a partly horrified, partly questioning, all pained expression before he looks away again. There's a shake of his head, and the pained look is replaced by his customary aloofness. Well- as aloof as he CAN look while being hugged by Whirl. "Hey." Whirl starts leaning in and draping over him and, "HEY!" Now the Combaticon starts pushing back against the other mech. "Get off of me! Ew, I ... I don't want to hear it! Not.. not NOW!" Those cooling fans kick in harder.

Then Swivel wants to speak to him OH THANK PRIMUS YES THANK YOU SAVE ME SWIVEL. The shuttleformer pushes Whirl away and almost RUSHES to a corner to hear what she has to say. Just please no propositions for interfacing, 'cause that's what happened when Whirl lead him off in a corner in a bar.

-Moonlight looks over at Blast Off for quite some time, his words being the kind that even she won't make light of. "Sounds like you're having a rough time of things," she says sympathetically. "It's never good to lose someone, but I can't imagine what it would be like to lose someone while they're still walking around and functioning." She takes an extra big gulp of her drink this time around, as though she could vicariously help the group of sad mechs drown their sorrows out. Or, perhaps, she's drinking to her own sorrows, whatever they might be.

"That is seriously creepy. And wrong. And I don't think a whole lot of things /are/ wrong. But that's one of them," she says to Hot Rod. "I guess Mr. 'The Law is Good' is either in full out denial or he isn't so pristine as he pretends to be." Now, who could she be talking about? Guesses anyone? "Corrupt laws disrupt the nature of things. People like me, we're supposed to be skirting the rules, not the people making them." She shakes her head several times, as though people were trying to convince her that up was down and left was right.

She's not sure if she wants to try Rumble's concoction, but she doesn't to offend the guy, bless his vulgar little spark. "I have some good stuff on my ship, but at the moment the law is having a go at it. If I have any luck at all, and I usually do, I'll get it back." She crosses her fingers.

"Of course I can fly," she says to Whirl, her back blades twitching slightly. "I might not be the fastest thing out there, but I have a pretty good capacity." They're different /kinds/ of copters, but still... By the looks of her she probably has a single, larger rotor instead of a twin pair of smaller fans. Nothing in her kibble indicates that she is meant for battle in her alternate mode. In other words, no huge chest cannons here. As far as Whirl's shenanigans go, her lips twitch in amusement. "Other things, hm?"

And then Blast Off is hurrying over to hear what Swivel has to say. It would be tempting to try to listen at any other time, but today she's happy just to be sitting here in such a social setting.

-"Yes, okay, I don't know, they want her for some kind of special training, Pax's place, who?" Hot Rod rapid-fire answers back in a long string of poorly differentiated words. Clear, right?

Keeping an eye on Whirl for further questions, Hot Rod answers Moonlight with a laugh: "You've got no idea. Yeah, it's pretty messed up. The law hasn't been good for a long, long time."

-"You sure? You're welcome to it, it's guaranteed a zillion times better than any drink they serve in this dive," Rumble informs Moonlight with a grin. He manages to siphon some of the potent brew into a smaller container, and he actually begins sipping from it. Yes, from the same batch that dissolved the metal ladel. "Ah yeah, now that's the stuff," he says cheerfully. "Here, one for the road..." He then siphons one out for Moonlight. Noticing Swivel glancing over, he siphons another container out for her. "One for you too, toots, you look like you could use some cheer-up-medicine." Blast Off gets a long, cautious look...then...Rumble siphons out another drink, this one for Blast Off. "You better drink one, too, cause you /need/ it, mech."

-Interfacing is the furthest things from Swivel's mind. In fact, she doesn't really know how it is done. It's a footnote from her formative years during her education, the barest technical instruction lodged somewhere in the back of her memory banks that has not since been retrieved.

       When Rumble offers the vile conconction, SWivel waves her hands out in front of herself and says "No!" a bit more aggressively than she had intended. She then laughs sheepishly, chorussing with a softer, more polite, "N'thanks."

       Once she manages to get Blast Off away from people, she looks over at the bar to make sure no one followed. Then she shrugs and smiles up at Blast Off, standing close so she can speak lowly, but not smothering the mech like Whirl was. "Actilly, I got nuthin' f'ya. Jus' thought y'kin use some space 'n all," Swivel explains quietly. "But best ta look like ya got sum news ya's waitin' fer." Swivel rolls her shoulders and glances over at the bar. The conversation was stressing her out even more, and she came to the bar to try and destress.

-Whirl is physically incapable of giving any sort of expression, but if he could he would be looking awfully hurt at Blast Off's extremely rude reaction. SO RUDE AND HURTFUL. "Blaaaast Oooff whyyyyy?" He almost falls over after being shoved away but he manages to keep his balance and he even makes like he's about to stand up and follow because HEY WHY NOT? But Swivel gives him a stern.. pout? "Tch! Fine! See if I care!"

He looks back over to Hot Rod to continue their conversation though he occasionally looks over the other mech's shoulder to stare at Blast Off and Swivel. What are they talking about over there? Primus, he's so nosey which is ironic considering his lack of nose. "Did you say Pax? Uuuugh /that guy./" Clearly Whirl doesn't harbor the same creepy hero-worship thing for Pax like Hot Rod does. ".. At least he'll take care of her, I guess. There's only so much he can do though."

Moonlight's answer to his previous question makes Whirl perk up again. "Oh yeahhh? I can fly too. Isn't flying great? It's great."

-"So much for 'redemption'," Moonlight says to Hot Rod, shaking her head in amusement. "Now, from what I've been told so far, not only is the government creepy, but they also determine everything for us or something like that?" she asks. "The guy who met me upon landing talked about some assessment thing."

She looks at the drink that Rumble pours her. No mean drinker herself, she shrugs her shoulders. "Okay, here goes. Bottom's up and all that." At which point she takes a gulp of the stuff. "Remind me to buy you a drink if I ever run into you at the Jump Joint." Assuming she ever gets there after drinking the mystery drink.

Just as well she wasn't trying to get a listen in on Swivel's conversation or she probably would have laughed outright.

Turning to Whirl, she grins, "Sure beats walking. Sometime we'll have to compare modes, hm?"

-Blast Off actually grabs that drink from Rumble before he makes it all the way over to the corner. Because YES he could USE THAT DRINK WHY THANK YOU. \*guzzle\* Then he's off to listen to Swivel and... huh? He looks at her, blinking in a bit of confusion. He looks back over at Whirl and... is he actually feeling just a tiny bit bad for how he just treated the cyclops? Gah, no... he has to STOP doing that! He turns back to Swivel, tilts his head... and then understands. Hmm. "I... see." The shuttleformer studies her a moment. "Well... I.. I suppose so. He can be a bit... overbearing. But..." He looks back to Whirl thoughtfully, and almost seems to want to say something further, but lets it trail away unsaid. Then he's back to looking at Swivel, making more of a show of nodding his head. "Ah! I see!" He says a bit more loudly, for everyone's benefit, then goes back to a quieter voice. "Swivel, correct? ...thank you." He stands there, looking a bit awkward. "I... seem to see you out and about every so often. You get around."

-"What do you mean, /ugh/!" Hot Rod bristles defensively for the absent supercop. "Orion Pax is the only person I would've trusted with her care, mech. There's seriously not another person on this planet I'd trust to have the strength or the integrity to not only care for her, but be able to stand up against the Senate if they came for her. Did you see the way he talked to Senate that one time?" He shines as a beacon of hero-worship. It's embarrassing, really.

Luckily, Moonlight is there to cut Hot Rod off before he can dive into the ballad of Pax. Which he's probably written. "--oh, functionism? It's a load of scrap, but it's the law of the land. Like your alt-mode decides everything about you. And even if you have an amazing, fast, totally great altmode, they still might not decide you're good enough to be a racer," he says in a totally-not-bitter kind of way. (He's so bitter.)

-"It's me job," Swivel says, beaming. This little gesture of helping someone out of an awkward social situation seems to drain all of her meloncholy away and brighten the femme up. Doing nice things is better than getting drunk. Or more effective, anyhow. In fact, one could say the femme was radiant. She radiates at Blast Off with all sorts of positivity. But not smothering positivity. Passive positivity that says 'hey I'm here for you bro if you ever wanna tap into these smooth vibes'. It's amazing what the words 'thank you' mean to the femme. "I 'liver ta 'enwhere there's a civ. So, yeah, I gets 'round t'all th'places. Meet lotsa peeps. Fact, if y'ever need sumtin' small pers'nally d'livered t'enone, y'kin try 'an 'ire me. Can't always say I'm 'vailable, but I try ta be. I take jobs from summer th'offices yanno, ones tha' deal wit' managin' messages 'n the loik. But I also do m'own work on th'side." Swivel beams proudly. She loves her job.

-Whirl just STARES at Hot Rod as he goes on and on and on and on about how wonderful and great Orion Pax is. "Oh, you mean that time when he dragged me in front of the Senate, exposed everything that was happening, and then had me sent to Garrus-1 where I was brutally beaten and mocked on a daily basis?" Whirl's totally not bitter either, nope. "Yeah, I saw it." He would take an angry gulp of liquor right now if he could.

"Compare altmodes, eh?" He gives Moonlight a look. What look? Who knows. "I'd like that."

-"Oh, you're /not/ a racer?" Moonlight asks Hot Rod in frank surprise. "Functionism? Is that what they call it? Sounds like just plain bossiness," she says. "So, what do these crazy functionists /think/ you should be doing? I was told I'd likely be doing cargo runs, and the guy made sure to make it sound EXTRA boring." She lowers her voice. "He souded a bit desperate despite the fact he didn't really /sound/ like anything. Except stuffy."

"You, big guy, are a genius," she says to Rumble as she takes another go of the mystery mixture. Having a good tolerance for all sorts of drinks is one of her mainstays; there are some people who simply will not close a deal if you can't drink with them and not lose your head. Or your guts. And the squishes have some pretty vile looking guts. No, she's not being sarcastic about his size.

And then Whirl gives an account of what happened. "Whoa! That's harsh," she says to the Empurata. As for the look, well, she doesn't know him well enough to interpret a single optic staring at her yet. "What did you do to earn all that?" As for the mode thing, well, it's pushed to the back of her mind for now. And at the same time, she's wondering what a guy with no mouth is doing in a bar.

-Rumble grins cheekily at Moonlight, then he sits back, and...watches. Because tensions are getting pretty high in this poufy bar, and someone's bound to start a fight pretty soon. He can feel it in his servos.

-Blast Off isn't sure if he is annoyed by Swivel's cheerfulness, or could use a little cheer himself. He finally decides to just go with it and accept it. He'll be gloomy enough for the two of them. Though... slag it all, he wishes he could understand what she's /saying/ half the time. The shuttleformer attempts to be polite, and nods at what he thinks are appropriate intervals, but some of his confusion may be evident. "Ah... jobs, yes. D'livereratered..." He mumbles the word even more confusingly than she pronounced it, thanks to his own confusion. "Wait, ...d'livered?" He enunciates the word very carefully. "You mean \*de-liv-ered\*?"

-Oh. Well. That's awkward. "Uh. Yeah. I guess that time." Hot Rod droops beneath the awkward heaped on his shoulders. It weighs down the ends of his spoiler. He fiddles with his glass.

CHANGE OF SUBJECT. "Hey, I race, but I'm not a racer," Hot Rod says to Moonlight with a fair attempt at a cocky grin. "You get me? There's some good underground action if you're into it. Anyway, what's it matter what the functionists think? Why's what you do always what you turn into?" So hard to imagine how he ends up on lists as a Decepticon sympathizer. /So hard/.

-Whirl is a little offended that he actually had to tell Hot Rod that. What a bunch of bullcrap! He's the reason that whole thing happened and yet so few people remember his involvement in it. Everyone remembers Orion Pax though and how awesome he is and how he's such a great cop and how much he loves justice. Whirl seriously doubts Pax would be so fondly spoken of if he was in Whirl's position; mutilated beyond repair and forced to do the dirtiest work imaginable. The injustice makes the cyclops tense and he snaps his claws together with a loud noise.

"I didn't do anything," Whirl says to Moonlight. "That was the problem. I didn't want to do the shady stuff they wanted me to do so.. they found a way to persuade me."

-"S'wot I said! D'livered," Swivel responds incredulously. "I do 'liveries... mos'ly messages 'n such, b'sumtimes I do 'spress packages 'n th'loik." Swivel cocks her head to the side. She glances over at the others. She has really keen hearing, so she gathers that the conversation changed to racing. Just like when that other mech was here the other time... what was his name.. Swerve. Races are a tame topic, right? She also noticed Whirl staring at Moonlight in a way... but then he stares at everyone that way. It's kind of creepy. But Swivel now knows not to actually SAY that out loud. His feelings might get hurt. Ooops. Conversation just got tense again, and there's even claw snapping. Yeah, Swivel is going to stay out of it a bit longer. "Yanno I dun 'member if y'told me wot you do?"

-Moonlight nods her head. "I'm guessing car races, yeah?" she says to Hot Rod. "Betting?" she also wants to know. Watching Cybertronians race will be a whole lot more interesting than watching the squishies in their vehicles, so this perks her interest. "As for this function thing, well, I'm a smuggler so we take whatever we can get. Someone has the wits and the will to work, then that's all we need. Doesn't matter if you're metalic life or squishy life. We even had a cyborg. Blew my mind at first." Yeah, Moonlight's pretty chatty.

She looks at Whirl for quite some time. Finally she rubs the back of her neck. "Just shows how screwed up this place is. I /was/ a freaking criminal, and I don't think anyone out there would have done to me what they did to you," she says. "Not that I've done things that were super terrible, but smuggling is a crime for all that." She waves a hand dismissively, as though she sees it as one only as a technicality and has no moral guilt whatsoever for doing what she's done.

-Blast Off's hands come up. "No no no no! You said "d'livered" not "de-liv-ered". His fingers pinch together. "There is a difference! It's the importance of \*enunciation\*." He /enunciates/ that very clearly, too, in the cultured drawl he has. Then she asks what HE does, and he DID understand it. Hmm. "Well... I... uh...." He's a MIGHTY SPACE WARRIOR, a SPY-BUSTER extraordinaire, a snazzy sniper and an amazing asset for the Decepticon cause, that's what!!!!

And also, he probably can't tell her any of that. "I.... deliver things too, actually." Siiigh. "That's why I come here," he thumbs over at Hot Rod, "to bring cargo." Ok, where was that drink Rumble gave him? OH YEAH. he takes a long guzzle. He HATES being reduced to cargo transport, and there he is doing it to HIMSELF.

-"Shiftlock ... said something like that," Hot Rod admits, watching Whirl with something not far from sympathy, but a little too awkwardly self-conscious about it. At least he doesn't go on (and on) again about how great Pax was. Something about what Moonlight says catches his attention, and he asks, "What was your name again? You still transport stuff?"

-Rumble takes in all of these conversations, then very subtly heads on his way. Since he's a mini, he's fairly good at blending into the crowd and vanishing out the door.

-With a tilt to her head, Swivel observes Blast Off trying to get her to know the difference in pronunciation. She'd watch his lips as a learning aid, but alas, they are hidden. "Duh," Swivel begins, "liv-errrd," adding a rather glottal R to the end. She watches Blast Off carefully for any signs that she is getting it wrong. "But I cann g'round sayin' duh-liv-errd all th'time, I'd sound... well, 'diculous!" Swivel shrugs, dismissing this alternate way of pronouncing delivered.

       Then comes another smile. And in a quiet yet somewhat excited voice, Swivel says to Blast Off, "'En we gotter kinship, yeah? Same sorter work, though yer much bigger 'n do cargo I bet. Yeah, sumtimes I 'itch rides wither cargo peeps 'en I'm bit low on fuel. Mebbe some time we'll work t'gether! An' I thought you was 'least middle caste coser all nice speakin' ways 'n all. S'why I was kinner nervous 'round you 'en first we met." Swivel punctuates several of her sentences with jerky nods.

-Betweeen the radio chatter from the other cycle, the news about her reprogramming and cohabitation with Pax, and of course that stuff he and Blast Off did (which was totally for her, seriously, that's not weird or creepy or anything,) Whirl has had his fill of hearing about the femme. "Yes Hot Rod, that's really fascinating or whatever," he says, obviously having stopped paying attention a while ago. He leans over the counter when the bartender has his back turned and snatches up a few bottles in his claws.

"Well, this has been a terrible evening." Awkward pause as he just stares at everyone. "....Okay bye." Whirl books it out of the bar before anyone notices the missing bottles.

-Moonlight extends a hand to Hot Rod. "Moonlight," she says with a grin. "And yeah, I guess you could say I do. It's not like I stopped being able to transform when I got here." She shrugs her shoulders. "I haven't been here very long though. Not sure if they're giving me back my stuff, or what they're going to do to my ship, so I don't know how far I'll be able to go, but I see no reason to suddenly stop doing what I've been doing most of my life already."

She turns to say something to Rumble but notices the little mech has taken off somewhere. Oh well. If she likes the place he referred her to then maybe she'll run into him again.

And then the other 'copter takes off. She gives Whirl a wave. "Maybe I'll catch you later then," she says. Also, she's the last femme to tattle on a guy smuggling out a few bottles of the drink. She figures he has a way to drink them that might be annoying to do in a public place like a bar. Anyhow, she's not going to judge him, though she does wink in a way to show she'll be mum.

-"Hot Rod," he introduces himself, meeting Moonlight's hand with a friendly clasp. He sends a startled blink after Whirl, then looks uncertainly toward the empty places where the missing bottles stood. "Did he--." No, wait. Not asking. What bottles? "Anyway, you should look me up if you find yourself at loose ends. There's a lot of things the Senate's pretty strict about, and some of those things are, ah, transport regulations."

-Blast Off watches Swivel watching him, and ...well, bless her spark (Ok, not really the phrase he's thinking, but roll with it Okay?) she is at least trying. He nods as she gets at least a little closer. "Yes...yes..." and then "No, no..." \*headshake\*. ""NO, you wouldn't sound 'diculous... and that is RIDICULOUS, by the way. BOTH pronounciation and literally. You would sound... why, you'd sound /cultured/!" And EVERYONE wants to sound \*cultured\*, right? At the rest, he lets out a slight HUFF at "middle caste". "I am HIGH caste! I am a shuttleformer, the most elite of the elite!" Ego much? He looks very haughty and self-important about it, too, though her mention of nerves gets a wave of the hand. "Just mind your MANNERS, and we'll be fine. I simply cannot stand \*uncouth\* behavior. And... working together?" He looks back over at Hot Rod. "Well... if you deliver things to HIM, then who knows."

As he looks over there, Whirl suddenly GETS UP and LEAVES. Wait, what?! Suddenly Blast off takes a step towards the departing helicopter... before stoppihng again. OMP. STOP THAT. he doesn;t care about Whirl! He DOESN'T! He's... going to keep insisting that to himself, even though it isn't true. But for now, he watches as the mech leaves, then sighs and looks back to the bar. "Shall we return?"

-Struggling to hide her amusement as Blast Off begins to lecture her on proper pronunciation and how sounding cultured is obviously superior to sounding, well, sounding like Swivel. And it gets even more difficult not to giggle when he gets haughty about her slip up of thinking him middle caste. "S'sorry, 'igh caste 'en," Swivel quickly ammends. After all, she doesn't want to go offending the big fella. She's already set off Blurr in this cycle, and that seldom ends well for anyone. She glances at Hot Rod then back to Blast Off, then shrugs. "I work fer all sorts, I 'ent 'scriminatin' s'long's I get comp'sated fer m'time. An' I WOULD sound 'diculous sayin' DUH-LIV-ERRD 'en the rest o' m'words dun match that, uh, level o' culture. I'd 'ave to start sayin' all me words diff'ent.'"

Swivel does notice Whirl's hasty departure, but even more, Blast Off's step to follow, and then his quick recovery. What Swivel thinks about that, well, Blast Off won't know because she just continues chattering on without missing a beat as if she noticed nothing. But she noticed. She always notices the little 'things' between those two. "I'd b'like learnin' t'speak all over... oh wait..." Swivel freezes a moment as she realises she didn't exactly learn speech, not in the sense some organics would. It was programmed into her and she just had to learn how to retrieve the words and order them properly. So how did she end up speaking like that? Well, it may remain a mystery. But she isn't the only one. The odd empty has had a similar, er, impediment.

       Swivel glances over at the bar, which has gone back to being reletively empty again. The hat femme from outer space and Hot Rod are the only ones remaining. They seem innocuous, so Swivel nods her consent to returning to the bar, giving Blast Off a sly smile. What she means by it, who knows? It's gone back to just a mild, pleasant smile as she begins to amble over to her previous seat.

-Thundercracker decides to go out. Its his day off and riding the jetstream took him to Nyon and to a bar. The door opens and a pretty blue Seeker walks in. He glances around to see if he recognizes anyone.

-"Do tell," Moonlight says, leaning forward to Hot Rod. "I'm just debating with myself whether I should go to this assessment thing and see what it turns up, or if I should just forget the whole thing and take the risk of having the system hound me for it." She grins. "So, what is it you do when you're not racing?" she asks Hot Rod.

Blast Off gets a look as she hears the odd word, like HIGH and MANNERS and HIM. She blinks a few times. "Um, are you sure you're in the right place then?" she calls across to him. Getting all puffed up over himself makes it so tempting to throw a little dart at him just to deflate the guy. But she resists.

She nods her head to Swivel and Blast Off as they make their way back towards the bar and social things. When Thundercracker enters, she flicks him a glance, grins, and then goes back to looking at Hot Rod, whom she is speaking with.

-"Hey, what was all that about?" Hot Rod asks, leaning back to watch as Blast Off and Swivel head back over. Clearly whatever it was that pulled them away required privacy and discretion to discuss ... so he demands an explanation in a loud voice as they return. Like you do.

He's loud-voiced and vibrant-colored, two things which make him very recognizable. Hot Rod's gaze passes over Thundercracker as he talks with Moonlight, and he lifts his head in a nod of recognition: "Hey, they'll probably hound you no matter what. It's how they keep themselves entertained in Iacon, you know? I don't actually race all that much," he admits somewhat regretfully. "I spend a lot of time -- mm, doing ... stuff. Uh. Community organization. Yeah." Rabble rousing.

-Blast Off listens to Swivel insist that she can't change just ONE word. "Well, then work on ALL of them!" See, Swivel, it's EASY-PEASY. "You need... I don't know, you need \*enunciation lessons\*! You should learn a little... /culture/. /Classiness./ These are ALWAYS good things to know!" He doesn't notice Swivel noticing his reaction to Whirl leaving. No, he'll just convince himself that NO one is the wiser. Her smile gets a slightly confused look, but he joins her in returning to the bar.

Moonlight suddenly calls out to him, and he jerks back just a bit. "Well, believe me, I wouldn't be here at ALL if I had MY way. But I \*don't\*, so I find myself stuck here with the /common masses/." //THE TRAGEDY.// Thundercracker gets a glance, but Blast off doesn't really know him very well. He DOES know Hot Rod... unfortunately. "NOTHING. She just needed... a little..." He glances at her. "..clarification." Then his optics narrow. "Why did Whirl leave in such a hurry?" (Not that he CARES or anything.)

-Thundercracker spots Hot Rod and Blast Off and with a nod at the Combaticon he heads over to where Hot Rod is at. "Hi there." He says as he pulls up a seat. "MAde it to Kaon yet?"

-Oh, of course Blast Off wouldn't notice her noticing him noticing Whirl leaving. Noticing Swivel noticing him would mean admitting things he'd rather not admit. "Mmmmmmm an' where'd I get these sorter lessons? I'm a workin' class yanno, I 'ent 'titled t'get en'more learnin' 'en wot I was taught ather PPS... n'like you 'lites." She isn't sounding bitter or angry about the discrepency of the castes and the differences in priveleges. She is just saying it in a 'matter of fact' tone. Swivel has accepted the caste system a long time and willingly, even contentedly, worked with in it most of her existence.

       Swivel is about to say more, but her optic is snagged by the entrance of a certain blue mech. There sure are a lot of bluish mechs in her life these cycles. "Oy! THundacracker! 'Member me?" Swivel calls out, waving her arm and smiling at the mech. Then she suddenly puts her arm down and seems to humble herself. "I mean... 'ello guv, 'avin' a nice cycle?" Still, she looks to Thundercracker with unsuppressed admiration in her large purple optics.

-"I would guess the community you're organizing is Nyon's?" Moonlight asks with a lopsided grin. "Hopefully you aren't trying to be /too/ organized. A little chaos now and then is definitely more fun."

She gives Blast Off a bit of a funny look. "Look, no offense, but that attitude is probably not terribly popular 'round here," she points out to him. "Besides, the common masses aren't so bad." Where she comes from, class is an issue, but it's not quite the same as caste. But she knows she's lower class and revels in it. "I think he wanted to enjoy his engex in private. Not sure how he'd manage it, but with no mouth, he probably didn't want people gawking." That's her best guess at any rate.

When the blue seeker joins Hot Rod, and consequently herself, she gives him a little wink from under the brim of her hat. "Hey."

Oh, now that's interesting. Moonlight notes the admiration in Swivel's optics and that it's directed at the blue flier. She also notes the mech's name.

-"Uh. I wasn't really paying attention," Hot Rod admits. He is a good friend. "I was distracted! I mean, he didn't /say/ anything, so. I'm sure he had a reason. He grabbed a couple of bottles on his way out, though, so don't let the bartender put it on your tab," he adds in a lower tone. He has his priorities straight.

At Moonlight's question, Hot Rod can only laugh. It rings a touch hollow, but he says, "Believe me, no one's ever accused me of being too organized." ...speaking of, he admits to Thundercracker, "Haven't had the chance. How's life in Kaon?"

-Thundercracker nods in greeting at Moonlight and smiles a bit then cycles a bit of air though his chest intakes. "Pity, Hot Rod. Perhaps if you have the time soon, you might give it a go." Then he catches some flailing and an unmistakable accent out of the corner of his optics and looks over toward Swivel. "Hi. I remember you. Hows things going?"

-Blast Off just sort of shrugs at Swivel, "Well, then, I don't know, someone should \*teach\* you then... or something." Moonlight's comment gets a confused look. The shuttle rarely realizes how offensive his high-class snootiness can sound. "What? I simply said..." He pauses, looks around and realizes that it IS true that so often people get all bent out of shape and he doesn't even know why. So he shrugs again. "Well... it's simply the truth. I find myself in places I certainly never expected to not long ago. But that has been the fate of many I find nowadays." Then he looks to both Moonlight and Hot Rod as they speak of Whirl. "Ah. I... see." he looks out towards where the mech was last seen. "Wait, what? You don't think he put them on MY tab?!" Thundercracker gets a small return nod, but is still mostly unfamiliar. He probably has seen him around the Forge, but... you know, those Seekers all sort of look the same. Well...except maybe /her/, but... Swift Blade is different.

-"Thin's goin' fine thanks t'ya!" Swivel proclaims. "Bin buyin' coolant from summun else an' n'been in en' ambushes since y'eroically came t'my rescue." Yes, let the whole bar know that Thundercracker is a hero for the little people like Swivel. At least, that is Swivel's perception. He's much nicer than that other blue mech... but probably less confused.

       Swivel clamours up onto a stool, which is something of an awkward sight due to her large back tires and small stature and the tendency for stools to be, well, tall. She glances between Moonlight and Hot Rod, and then continues her conversation with Blast Off. She felt it right to leave it up to him to say something to Hot Rod about what they were talking about. "Well, oo's gunna teach me? I dun think 'enone cares 'bout 'ow I talk 'long as I do m'job. None but you, 'enway," Swivel remarks. HINT HINT. Swivel almost orders herself a drink, but then remembers she's already had two. She doesn't want to get drunk again. Nope nope. She's sure Hot Rod doesn't want her drunk again either. She might end up making him look bad again. So bad.

-Moonlight laughs and nods her head at Hot Rod. "I think you and I just might be speaking the same langauge then, Hot Stuff," she says. No, she didn't misremember his name; that was deliberate. Hearing the talk about Kaon, she says to Thundercracker, "There was a mech in here not long ago, said I would find some good drinks at the Jump Joint. Can you back that up?" she asks him.

She glances Blast Off's way. "Well, there's a lot of different ways of telling the truth, and sometimes it's a good idea to pad the truth a little. Once in a while, it's a good idea to just plain lie." Yup, paragon of virtue, right here. Then she smiles. "Money troubles?" she asks when he sounds a bit unhappy about the tab.

"I don't care how you talk, but I do know that a lot of people are picky about those things. What you say and how you say it can tell a lot about you," she points out to Swivel. "Just thought I'd put that out there. But if you're happy with it, then no one else should worry you about it any." She gives Blast Off a pointed look.

-Thundercracker realizes that now everyone in the bar has heard him called a hero. He stares at Swivel and nods a bit, unsure what else to do since he's sure mechs are looking at him now. He waves his hand toward the bartender and calls out the drink he wants and then says, "Keep up the good work, Swivel." His attention is drawn to Moonlights question, "Not really" he answers truthfully. He doesnt recall being in the Jump Joint. He the listens to her comment at Swivel and as his drink arrives he takes a sip and just listens to the talk around him.

-"I'll get there," Hot Rod promises somewhat vaguely before laughing at Blast Off. "Yeah, why not? You two looked pretty cozy. Natural assumption." His grin flashes in tease as he pushes back from the bar. "Then I'll talk to you again soon," he promises Moonlight, grin lingering. "Good to meet you." Before he leaves, he leans toward Thundercracker and says, "Try the special. It's even better--" See also: /worse/. "--here than it was at the other place."

-"Wot? No!" Swivel protests at Blast Off. "I wuna 'spect anythin' from sumun 'lite. I knows better 'en at, since I know me place..." She surreptitiously glances at Hot Rod. She's sure he would have something to say about her knowing her place. She quite thinks he did the last time she mentioned places. She then looks back at Blast Off, then Moonlight, then Blast Off, then Moonlight again, then she beams at Thundercracker. She did good. Yay.

       Then Swivel looks back at Moonlight "Erm... wellum... I guess mebbe changin' up m'talkin a wee bit..." there she goes with her sign language again, pinching her thumb and index finger together. This is definately not an impersonation of Whirl. "...gooder coo' 'elp 'ith somer ther mis'standin's I 'ave with peeps. An anu...." she is suddenly cut off as she stares at Blast Off. Yes. Stares. Oh, the cogs are working and she pieces things together. HE DID, DIDN'T HE? Did what exactly, well.... that's a topic for another day.

-Moonlight shrugs easily at Thundercracker's answer. "Thanks anyhow," she says. "Name's Moonlight, by the way," she offers, extending a hand towards him.

She blinks at Blast Off. "Oh, but sophistication is a kind of lie if you think about it," she argues. "It's people trying to convince themselves that they don't have all sorts of 'base' impulses." Then the heavy denial comes in and she just shakes her head. "I don't know about cozy," which is what Hot Rod said, "this guy here looked pretty uncomfortable to my optics." She sticks her thumb in Blast Off's direction.

"It's good to know that you're being understood properly. But if you don't have many troubles, then don't worry about it too much. If you have enough reason to change how you speak, you'll figure it out eventually." She shrugs.

-Thundercracker takes Moonlight's hand and says, "I'm Thundercracker. And at some point I might check out the Jump Joint."

-Blast Off raises an optic ridge at Swivel. "Well, good." Pause. "Well... or maybe not good, completely. I just mean... don't let them tell you what to do." Whoever /them/ is. "Make your own choices. If you want to better yourself, then DO it." Then she starts staring at him, and he's not sure why. IT makes him more nervous, until he finally flials just a tiny bit. "FINE. Maybe I will teach you...something. Sometime. But not for FREE. If you transport things, then.... I'll want some payment or something." He waves a hand. "We'll... figure it out." H egets up and starts thinking of heading off himself. But he turns to MOonlight first and narrows his optics. "What." How DARE she insult his beloved \*sophistication\*! "Sophistication is the only thing that seperates us from the ...the /beasts/. It keeps... order amid chaos." He humphs and turns to go, glancing again at Thundercracker, who is... some sort of hero? Well, HE is a hero, too! He saved Nyon once! (Never mind that he also unknowingly brought the bomb that nearly exploded inside it).

-Oh that was not the reason the femme was staring, but since her staring got the mech to relent to teach her, even for a cost, she shall not complain. Although Blast Off was starting to sound a lot like Hot Rod. "Roight! I kin pay in shanix 'r favours," Swivel says assuredly. There is no innuendo in her tone, but someone still might take what she said the wrong way. But since Blast Off is so very sophisticated, he surely would not.

       Swivel looks between Moonlight and Blast Off as they.... debate things. She'd add her opinion if she had one about the matter. But she doesn't. She's a simple femme that way. Or so that is how she prefers the world to view her.

       "See y'gain, 'en we kin talk 'bout learnin me."

-Thundercracker just enjoys his drink which is not what hot rod recommended he get.

-Moonlight shrugs her shoulders at Blast Off. "If you say so. You must know better, being all 'sophisticated' and stuff. I'm just a lowly smuggler." Yes, she is being sarcastic. "And I'd say a lot of things seperate us from the /beasts/. Sense of humor is a good one. The ability to think, to create." She grins. "The ability to be dishonest."

She grins at Thundercracker. "So, how's it feel to be a hero?" she asks, certainly amused at the notion, though not actually mocking him.

-Thundercracker flicks a wing as he looks into his glass. "Its a dirty job but someones got to do it."

-Blast Off doesn't take it the wrong way, fortunately. He has to deal with Whirl, after all... and that didn't sound like Whirl. He nods. "Very well." He'd give Thundercracker a nod but he still doesn't know the Seeker very well and besides he's all ALOOF and everything, so he doesn't. He just HUFFs at Moonlight. "Yes, I AM sophisticated." An optic ridge lifts up. Humor? What's that? Blast Off seems to have missed that component. Usually. Another sort of HMPH and he strides out of the bar.

-Swivel watched Blast Off leave in a huff, idly giving a finger-wiggle-wave. NOt that he'd see it. She glances about and scoots off of her stool. "Time fer me t'get goin'. Need time ter r'charge 'fore m'next work cycle, which is comin' up right en' steady! Nice ta meecha, er, Moonlight was it?" Swivel smiles. Whether or not she mentioned her name, she cannot recall and therefor doesn't really mean to be rude. "Ikes, later 'n I thought!" Swivel was going to extend her hand for a handshake, but upon reckoning the time, she panics and scurries out of the bar.