Hiding Help

Arcee still needs to hear back from Prowl about how the situation with Imager is to be handled. She's hoping that it will be left to her discretion, so she can get the other femme set up in a safe habsuite with a guard detail. But for now, she decides to introduce her to another friend of hers...someone who's always looking to make new contacts.

"Ever heard of the 'Hero of Nyon'?" Arcee asks Imager, as she walks along with her in the relatively safe pedestrian mall in Rodion. You can almost hear her inserting those quotation marks when she speaks.

"Uh. nope." Imager shrugs her pauldrons as she follows Arcee into wherever she was headed. "One of your all sorts big badaft brawler types is he?" Following Imager and Arcee, is a large blocky mech by the name of Blastplate. Generally seen as Imager's own personal bodyguard, the truth of the matter is that he's simply a projected hologram. While perhaps unnecessary at the moment, it's always been a bit of added security for her, to have such things available.

She raises a hand to the back of her neck, "Hope so I'm sorta as useless as pistons on a turbowolf"

Between one betrayal and another, Hot Rod's not looking his very best. And yet--! Despite the patch of welds at his side where scorched and cracked paint has yet to be fixed, despite the dent hammered into his middle by the knee of a friend, the pointy tips of his golden spoiler rise above the broad set of red shoulders, making him easy to spot from far, far away. When he turns in their direction, the flames emblazoned across his chest serve as final identifier.

Hot Rod looks a little rough and tumble for Rodion's gentle ped mall, which leaves him stuck apparently trying to convince a femme on security that he's not actually there to mug anyone. "--like there's even anything worth stealing," he says super convincingly. Now /there's/ a hero for you.

"He's...different," Arcee tells Imager. "Very much his own mech. Does what he wants to do, doesn't much follow anyone else's philosophy but his own. Prowl doesn't like him at all, he kind of wants me to stay away from h--" She pauses, then looks across the mall blankly. "...I can't believe it, there he is," she exclaims. "Hey Rod, come here, I want you to meet someone!"

Imager grimaces, "Yeah I got some of that myself. I guess. Sorta a rebel." She muses to herself, then adds abruptly, "But not like one of those terrorist guys...Wait. Is he one of...?" Imager doesn't get a chance to finish her question as Arcee moves on ahead. She hurries after Arcee, which amounts to what one might generously call a 'restrained hustle', her big feet clomping along, with her 'bodyguard' following suit.

The line of inquiry ends with Arcee's call. Both Hot Rod and his antagonizer turn toward her. "Ha! See?" Without waiting for a reply, he takes the excuse and ditches further questioning to stride toward Arcee and her friend(s). "Hey, 'Cee!" His manner is easy and open, although a smug note lingers in the curve of his smile. He glances back just once to note the security femme's frustrated glance before she heads off to more productive rounds. Looking forward again, he gives Imager and Blastplate each a look of curious inquiry. "Hey, guys."

"How's it going? Hmm...looks like you've been in a few more scrapes," Arcee says, optics narrowing skeptically as she regards the perpetual mess that is the hero of Nyon. "Anyhow, I'd like to introduce you to someone...this is Imager, and Imager, I'd like you to meet Hot Rod." She doesn't anticipate that Rod's cultured enough to have heard Imager's wonderful music, but she doesn't know for that for sure.

"You look like scrap."

She pauses, her pale eyes flicker once as she backpedals a bit, following Arcee's own words. "Uhh I mean scrape. You've been in a scrape. Yeah. What she said." She clenches her hands uncomfortably. While a rather large Femme, she didn't exactly carry herself with the confidence of a fighter. "Hot Rod. is it? Good to meecha. Arcee here. She's helping me out a bit so...that's good."

"Yeah." Hot Rod rubs at the back of his neck with a boyish grin and then gestures widely as he says, "But I got through them okay, right? Here I am!" His attitude suggests no more than a scraped knee, but the suggested damage is far worse. Whatever. HE'S HERE. HE'S FINE.

"Hey, Imager." Hot Rod's stunning lack of reaction suggests a lack of understanding, a lack of culture. Anticipation ... correct. "Nah, I think you meant the first thing," he says with a tip of his finger toward her. "It's cool. I'd say you should the other guy, but that'd actually be terrible. Never mind. Forget I said it."

Arcee inwardly winces just a bit, glancing at Imager. Ouch, this wasn't going very well at all. She knew Rod could be annoying, but he didn't seem all THAT bad to her. "OK, hypothetical question here...if you were looking for a \*safe\* place to stay, but maybe you didn't have a lot of resources, what might be a good choice?" she asks, directing this question toward Rod.

Imager actually gives a nonplussed shrug of agreement to Hot Rod, "A straight shooter. wow. maybe I should get out more or somethin" She squints for a moment, "What's your function?" Off the top of her head, she'd guess shiftkicker, but well, she's not THAT crass to suggest that. Almost.

"That's a funny kind of hypothetical." Hot Rod gives Imager a longer look, and from the thoughtful softening of his expression, he's drawing all kinds of wrong conclusions. "You need help finding somewhere to lay low?" The note of almost-concern fades as he gives Imager a quick, tense smile for her question. "Function really matter?" he asks -- a politically awkward question asked in a cheerfully challenging tone.

"Mmm...maybe," Arcee answers uncertainly. "There's a good chance such a place might be needed fairly soon." She's being a little bit cagey about it, which might mean the Senate and/or the Autobots are involved with this, somehow.

Imager considers the question for a few moments. She, herself, was in the high caste. Her function was something she got to choose. Does function matter? Was this a Decepticon she was talking to, some hidden agenda terrorist, hiding in the midst? She gives a noncommittal shrug, "I dunno. I like what I do. so...that's good."

Blastplate idly faces straight forward, behind her, as Imager's mind wanders a bit. "Wouldn't mind seeing this Prowl mech" She wiggles her hand left and right as she grimaces. Still, if Hot Rod could find her a safehouse, that'd be pretty keen right about now, her optics return to him, looking for answers.

Tilting his head, Hot Rod considers Arcee a moment. "Well. I know people," he says. "Places. Mostly in Nyon, though." That much should really go without saying. "Depends on what kind of laying low." He looks back at Imager and answers her shrug with a sharp grin. "Yeah? Do you? Good. It'd be nice if everyone was free to do what they liked." That's a little different than liking what they do, however, and a lot different from a good functionist party line. Maybe the femme eyeing him like a criminal hobo earlier had the right idea. "/Prowl/. You /want/ to see /Prowl/?" He draws his head back, openly appalled. Why would anyone want to do that.

Something in the way Hot Rod says 'Prowl' finally gets to her, and Arcee can't help but laugh. "I know you're not exactly his biggest fan," she says, "But believe me when I say that there's a very good reason why." If Imager wants to let Rod know why, then she will -- otherwise, it's a 'need to know' situation, and she'll let Imager herself decide who needs to know.

Imager finally notes that she's blocking foot traffic in the area, and steps off to the side a bit, Blastplate follows suit, less worried about whom he touches. "Okay look. I've heard all this...stuff about the Senate and policy. But even if I did have an opinion about it. there isn't much I can do about it...so...the sooner I see this Prowl and get whatswhat done the better." She shrugs again, then crosses her arms. A few moments later she does manage a guilty look as she looks away. The life she lives has been charmed for the most part, despite the sparkhunter types, and she knows it.

"Ugh." Hot Rod folds his arms over his chest and rolls his eyes. "And I'll never understand why you think he's okay. But no politics." He holds his hands up in a gesture of peace at Arcee and answers her laugh with a quick smile. Considering Imager, he shakes his head. "If you want to see Prowl -- /on purpose/," he emphasizes, because in his world people end up accidentally seeing Prowl, or something, "then I don't know that I've got the kind of help you need." The twist of his lips pulls sharp at the edge. "Mostly I deal with people who've got opinions, and do things about them. Even if I don't always agree with their opinions, like Arcee, here."

"Well, see...bottom line is, there may be sparkhunters, bounty fetchers involved," Arcee remarks a bit more pointedly, addressing both of them (but giving no love to Imager's bodyguard, for some reason). She isn't entirely sure if Prowl is going to allow Imager to stay inside the Decagon -- there's no guarantee of that. Rung's in there, but he's a special case for sure. "I just think it might be kind of dangerous to, um, wait on this."

Imager quietly listens to this entire rigmarole for a bit, her head still down. This wasn't getting anywhere. This was meant to be a simple question and answer as much as she sufficed, but now it's gotten into history. Personal history. She snaps after a moment, "Alright fine. So you got nothing. Thanks for that. Definitely helpful and in no way a waste of time." She shifts her gaze over the crowd warily, there was another reason why she put her back to a wall. "So apparently this Prowl's enough of an issue that nobody can do anything around him. great." She manages an exasperated look to Arcee, "Really looking forward to meeting someone with that much pull that everything on Cybertron ceases when his name is mentioned."

"Hey! I didn't say I've got nothing, I said what /I've/ got and what /Prowl/ has are kind of -- you know, we don't exactly see eye to eye." Hot Rod gestures, first at his own eyes, then shooting off a vaguely rude gesture in the direction of Iacon. "Prowl's kind of a big deal," he tells Imager, who might be kind of a big deal herself, for all his cluelessness. "He's basically king jerk. Sorry, Arcee. And I'm not interested in bringing any friends of mine to the king jerk's attention. Sorry, Arcee," he says again.

"I know, you kind of want me to have everything done here in a snap, but it's not getting done like that," Arcee sighs to Imager. "Officially? I'm...'security detail'. I don't call any shots. At all. I can't magically make circumstances improve without going through Prowl. When it comes to 'official' matters, he makes the decisions -- sorry, Rod," she adds, sort of as a foil to the flaming one's apologies. "Seriously, I'd love to bring you back to the Decagon and give you a habsuite. But I can't make that call."

Well, she's made things worse. Good for her. The large Femme puts a hand on her hipplate, looking away, up to the skyline as she tries to vent some steam. "Yeah. I hear you. but dang if it isn't a problem that here I am out in public. Lookin around. Fearing for anyone to be wantin to scrap me so they can take a peek at things and I get waylaid by political opinions..." She manages a helpless shrug, "Look. I'll just go sit oer here and shut up already and leave you at it. Alright?"

Imager steps away from the two, Blastplate following her as she squats down against a wall, her legs tucked underneath her. Suddenly the world seems so much larger to her.

Hot Rod laughs, somewhat despite himself. "I'm pretty sure I can't get a drink without getting waylaid by political opinions." This is a lie. Ask anyone who gets within ten meters of him. He's not the one being waylaid; he is the one setting ambushes. "Look, no one's going to get you without coming through me and coming through Arcee. So if I were you, I'd feel pretty safe where you are now. Maybe you should arrest her for something," he suggests to Arcee. "Look at her. She's like -- obstructing foot traffic. Because she's sitting down. That's against the law, right? She was having opinions. Isn't that against the law?"

Arcee smirks slightly at Hot Rod. "Your armor colors are illegal in at least a dozen jurisdictions, but I'm not going to bother with a citizen's arrest. Free pass for you today." She then steps over to Imager, leaning against the wall beside her. "Things are changing very quickly. It's okay to feel overwhelmed about it. No one person is going to have all the answers you're looking for...no, not even Prowl, but he might be able to provide a direction for you." Arcee is fairly sure Rod's going to have something to say about that comment. "I guess what I'm trying to say is...don't get discouraged, no matter what. I've seen some things already. Some...terrifying things. I wasn't going to get involved, and these things changed my mind."

It takes her a few moments to respond, her hands folded before her head as she stared out forward. "I uh...used to like people...cities and stuff..but ever since I got outed. You know. Everything sorta just..." She supinates her wrists, as if to gesture to the city. "and so I stopped showing up" She mentally asserts herself a bit, not letting any sign of fear hit her, as she admits, "Kinda lost myself here. Got no safe place anymore. And no. I don't like it." She blusters a bit, clearing her outtake valves, still not making eye contact. "Sorry for uh...you know."

"Yeah, I know. It's a crime looking this good." Hot Rod pulls off an effective preen despite aforementioned damage. The really important bits -- over-sized spoiler, eye-catching (eye-searing, depending on who you ask) flames -- remain vibrant...ly illegal. He doesn't hold the gesture; he tosses off the tease, and watches Imager as she speaks.

Hot Rod shifts, moving with Arcee. Rather than flank Imager on the other side, he stands in front of them: between the femmes and the flow of foot traffic. "Look, Prowl loves giving directions, but maybe you're the kind of person who wants to forge your own path. I don't know why the spark- or bounty-hunters would be after you, but you wouldn't be the first person I've helped hide. But it's -- you know, it's not exactly the same kind of thing you'd get from Prowl."

Arcee knows what it's like to feel alone and very vulnerable, so she can empathize. Also, as weird as Hot Rod is, she also trusts him to help Imager out should she want that instead of 'police protection'. This is a big reason why she wanted these two to meet. "The bottom line here is...you've made the right move reaching out for assistance," Arcee says to Imager. "Because no one should have to face these sorts of problems alone. That means you, too."

Imager sighs, putting a hand on the ground to help her balance as she stands back up, standing over Hot Rod. In a grim, level tone, she says simply. "Look. There's mechs out there that'd love to scrap me if they saw me. There's shanix involved. A lot of shanix as I understand it. Now I get you've got issues with mechs. That's fine. But if you're so concerned about what's going on that's all sort of wrong that you're going to gloss over the fact that I really do need help...." Her tone trails off, frustrated. She and her cohort start into the crowd for a moment, "Then maybe we need to be looking somewhere else."

Scrap, no, Arcee's totally taking a better approach. That's way better press. Hot Rod seems to listen as intently as he speaks: taking notes, maybe. How to be more compassionate. (Or fake it.) As Imager rises, he keeps his gaze level with hers ... even if that means tipping his head back. Frustration breaks through his tone as he insists, "I'm not glossing over it! I'm telling you that if you need help, I'll give it -- but you've got to know the kind of help I'm talking about. Ask Arcee what Prowl'd like to do to my friends. Come on. I won't say a thing. Then you have to decide if you're willing to take that on."

Arcee sighs. "Prowl is a police officer, and because of his...unique personality, he's makes for a pretty effective police officer," Arcee points out as she stands nearby. "So...yeah, Rod, he probably wants to arrest some of your friends. Not going to lie. \*However.\* There are...special circumstances here, a few things you might not understand, that make this entire situation more likely to be handled differently. It's...it's kind of like the situation with Blurr. He's in an unusual predicament right now because of his...abilities." She hopes that's generic enough that it won't give Imager's game away.

Imager looks back, noting Arcee's not ready to give up this fight. She was personally ready to call it quits, but...well, she needed a hand still, and Arcee was the one who volunteered. She was just going to have to trust the security Femme's judgement. Slowly, she turns around to reapproach the two. "I'm not followin. Yer saying that I might not like what help you got to give. But you won't say what that is. Iffin you can tell me. to my faceplate. that you know a spot where I won't get shot at or otherwise killed when I'm recharging...well I'm not in a position to turn you down. That's what I need, Hot Rod. Safety. Now if you're thinking I'm going to start pointing fingers at people. I won't. I don't owe many favors out here in the world. but when I do. I try to balance it nice and clean."

Maybe Hot Rod's slightly bitter laugh, a sharp -- "Ha!" -- when Arcee suggests it's like Blurr isn't exactly the response she expected. "I hope it's /not/." He shakes his head, then tells Image outright and unsubtle, "You're not the only outlier I'd be protecting, either," in wild and crazy assumptions. Totally wild. Totally crazy.

He considers her a long and thoughtful minute, then gives her a curt nod. He passes over his frequency so that she can contact him. "Look, like I said -- you need it, you got it. It's not just about you pointing fingers, though. I'm protecting them, sure, but like Arcee said -- Prowl's got this itch to arrest friends of mine. Hang out with us too long, you might get added to a list. No matter who you are."

Arcee gives Rod a sidelong look -- she still wants to find out what's happened between him and Blurr, she hasn't yet heard that story. She looks at Imager and says, "I just want you to look at all of your options, that's all, because if I were in your position I'd want as many avenues as possible to explore. If it makes you feel better in the meantime, I can remain with you, no matter what you decide to do."

Then they are left to head their separate ways while Imager considers her options.