No Secrets Here

Whilst finding an outright classy place in Kaon was something of a struggle, there was always the lesser of evils. Most of those in the business of hospitality which had any ethics or taste had been deserting Kaon with the rise in crime and violence. However, there was one such establishment, more of a energon cafe than an outright pub, that is situated near the theatre - a building that had been getting fewer and fewer performances and may be in danger of shutting down.

Vortex is sitting in a corner booth. Most of the seating is outside, but there are a few places indoors for those who are inclined to shadowy corners. He had issued Blast Off an invitation to meet him there whenever his medic cleared him to do so. On the table is an un-opened bottle of enerwine. It's nothing special as far as vintage goes, but it is passable nonetheless, and is the sort one would often found served in large quantities at a catered event. Vortex is idly tapping his finger on the table. No other customers are inside, and most of the staff is either in the back with inventory or outside serving the customers on their patio.

Ah, shadowy corners- just the sort of thing a sniper feels most comfortable spending his time in. And speaking of snipers, Blast Off has indeed been cleared from medbay- for the /second/ time now since Sky Lynx mauuled him, as long as he takes it easy and doesn't transform. He's a little curious about Vortex's invitiation. Also a little pleased, for it has been a long time since he really was able to sit and /talk/ with his old teammate.... and also a little wary about it, too. This IS Vortex, and the rotary can be a bit tricky sometimes. He's clever and observant, which can be a bad combination for a shuttle with a heightened desire for privacy as well as secrets to hide. But some time at an energon cafe means he can finally get a drink- and boy does he need one.

Making his way inside the cafe, Blast Off spots Vortex and strides over to him, albiet a little more slowly than usual. The shuttle still has a few bandages along his torso and he hasn't received a full fresh coat of paint- he'll get that once all the bandages come off, so there are still some claw marks along his side (and not the good ones Whirl gives him, either). Approaching the table, he stops as he spots the wine bottle, then reaches for it as he sits opposite the 'copter. "Ah.... Not quite Orion Three Orchards, but a fine choice for here."

The moment Blast Off has seated himself, Vortex slides open his facemask, grinning easily at Blast Off. He nudges a glass over to Blast Off. While it isn't a flute, it's not an old chipped mug either. "Glad you could make it," Vortex says. He studies Blast Off quietly for a moment or two, and despite his face exposed, an attempt to make the first gesture of trust, the mech's expression is difficult to discern. "I keep the good vintage for celebrations. This is merely a little... socialising between colleagues."

Blast Off watches Vortex's faceplate come off but then glances away, the picture of aloofness. No, the shuttleformer likes to keep his on- pretty much at all times. It's quite rare to see him without it, in fact. The faceplate that hides his face is just another measure of the distance he generally keeps, even among comrades. He \*does\* still need to eat and drink, though, and he has a small hatch in his faceplate that allows him to do so without full removal.

The sniper gazes back at Vortex before replaying, "Yes. It's been quite a long time since we spent some time together outside of our meetings with Onslaught or our military strikes." Accepting the glass, that hatch opens up and he drinks. "Mm. Nice." Placing it down, his gaze returns to the 'copter. "So. How have you been?"

"Well, I have been adapting, I think, rather well. I'd been so deep under cover that when I came back I got quite a surprise to learn we're working for the Decepticons. Then again, when I went under, they weren't as formidable a force yet." Vortex raises his own drink to his lips and pauses before taking a sip. His gaze never shifts from that of the sniper's, even when the sniper tries to avoid his gaze. "But I have not forgotten my training, my mission, or our shared pain during our incarceration for not betraying ourselves." Vortex is laying in the heavy points rather pointedly.

Vortex's steady gaze makes the shuttle slightly uncomfortable, and he winds up gazing off again for a moment before returning to his wine glass. Another sip through the hatch, placement upon the table, and he comments. "Yes... the Decepticons have been growing slowly in power as more people become disenfranchised with the system. Including myself- when the Senate revived me, they gave me a job as a scientist in Vos by day.... and a little assassination work on the side."

His optic ridge comes up as he swirls the wine in his glass. "I didn't know where anyone else was, except Onslaught, and not even him most of the time. I thought perhaps I could try living this life they gave me- it was very comfortable. But the corruption was too great. Eventually I saw too much and someone, likely the IAA, put out a hit on me." He takes another swallow. "That's when the Decepticons found me, and offered me a place to stay- a place I wouldn't get thrown in jail again."

Vortex's points are not lost on the shuttle. He still doesn't look at the rotary though. "Neither have I."

Vortex takes another sip and sets his glass down. He glances at Blast Off's glass for a while, watching him swirl the contents. It is almost mesmerising. He then looks to Blast Off again. "Whilst you know it would be an obvious lie if I were to beat my chest and beg your forgiveness for not being there for you in your time of need, I do feel some regret that I could not have been of some use to you. That is, especially seeing the sort of situation you are in now."

Vortex leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers together and setting them on the table. "You've been independent for a while. I suppose I might offer you an apology about my behaviour earlier. You'd been alone for a while and it will take time before you get used to the mentality we used to share in a unit. And maybe, just maybe I went a little bit..." Vortex brings up a hand, holding his thumb and index finger scant inches away from each other, "...over the line calling you on your very obvious flaws where others could hear. I should have addressed you personally, in private, and when you were good and ready to listen. So, please accept my apologies."

As Vortex begins his apology, Blast Off just shrugs. "It is fine, I'm sure you were wrapped up in your own problems." His casual dismissal fades a little as Vortex continues on, his expression becoming a little more suspicious. ...Situation? His hand tightens almost imperceptibly on his wine glass as his gaze once more returns to Vortex.

".....I have /always/ operated "independant and alone", Vortex, even while working as part of our cohort. I'm a space shuttle, after all. There were \*countless\* times I left all the rest of you working on planet while I circled around in orbit, making scans, doing a few orbital bombardments when required, and being ready to renter the atmosphere to pick YOU all up and save your metal hides if something went wrong." The mention of the radio incident makes him look even colder. "Yes, you should. Except one "little" thing. Pray tell, WHAT obvious flaws are these that you speak of?" His optic ridge lifts up and he's got the whole ice-cold shuttle demeanor going on as he lifts his glass for another sip, gazing steadily at Vortex as he waits for an answer.

Vortex is resting his hands on the table yet again, and the colder and more aloof BLast Off gets, the wider and more impish his grin becomes. "You are not alone, though, and you operate as one of us. You go one about your destiny to be alone, and it may console you or make you feel superior, because, let's face it, it's lonely at the top. But it just isn't true. Orbit or no, we usually had open communication with you, even if our presences were not physically there," Vortex counters with ease. This time he picks up the glass and begins to swirl its contents, gazing into it for a silent moment.

"Your obvious flaws are your short sightedness when it comes to cause and effect. But that is alright. Onslaught has been looking ahead for all of us so long, we have not had to exercise it on our own very often. But... I think you don't really realise the consequences of some of the things you do." Vortex sets the glass down gently, the clink barely audible. His face grows suddenly very serious, and his red visor almost imploring. "Blast Off I... you know I'm not very /good/ at sentiment. I'd rather laugh everything off and tease. So.... ah but you probably don't want to hear anymore from me. I've probably rather put you off."

Blast Off listens to Vortex's counter regarding their planetary work, looking less amused than ever. He finally turns his head with a soft \*huff\*, then drinks from his glass again as much for a distraction as for anything else. "....It's not lonely, it is... simply what I was built for. Therefore I might as well embrace it. In fact, I DO embrace it. I am PROUD of it." Then he makes a small gesture of admittance with a few fingers. "But yes, fine... there was always close radio contact. When required."

He stops to sort of glare at the 'copter. "I am hardly shortsighted. Brawl is short-sighted; I am a the picture of erudite thoughtfulness and measured responses." His optics narrow a bit as Vortex tries to goad him on. "....You're trying to manipulate me into asking you what you mean." He continues to pierce the rotary with that gaze. This draws out for awhile, then finally his optics roll up a bit.

He sighs. "..... What do you mean."

"Look, no one wants to be criticised, I know that," Vortex says, holding his palms out in a placating manner. "It's not pleasant, and i don't expect agreement. But I am also no looking for a fight or to try and tear down your rather healthy ego... just to refine it a little. We all need to seek improvement - the moment we stop... well..." Vortex offers a little shrug. But he has Blast Off hooked. He knows the shuttle tries to not care, but he knows better.

Vortex allows his visor to falla dn his gaze to falter. He exvents a sigh, which he cuts off part way as if about to speak, but then resumes exhaling. He shifts his weight in his chair and stares at his wine glass. Finally he glances at Blast Off, but not directly in the optics. "This unit is everything to me, Blast Off, and you are part of it. I may make the occasional verbal barbs, but I mean it in light fun most of the time. It's..." Vortex holds up his hand and looks at it, then finally shifts to peer at Blast Off's optics through his visor. "...Well the point is, we're back together again and I find it rather disturbing that we may be torn apart again so soon."

Blast Off hates when Vortex does this. Problem is, the interrogator is oh so very good at manipulation, too. Despite the fact that the shuttle is well aware he's being manipulated, he is still compelled to follow that lead wherever the rotary takes him. He doesn't have to like it, though. Violet optics remain narrowed, and his voice is largely flat with a hint of annoyance. ".....And /why/ are we threatened with being torn apart?"

Vortex glances downwards. Oh yes. The mech is a manipulator. But that isn't always a bad thing, now is it? Especially when they are on your side. The problem is making sure they realise it. "Well.... Blast Off... everyone is entitled to their privacy. That's true. But some secrets are hurtful, damaging, dangerous. We're afraid of the consequences of sharing them... but often the consequences of keeping them from those who only seek to help you are much graver indeed. Both Onslaught and I try to look ahead, try to find the best actions to take, but to do that, we NEED to know all of the dangers and see the big picture. Would you have us operate blind?" Vortex grips his hands into a fist and then relaxes them. "I'd say that I don't mean to pry, but I do. I only want to make sure we can operate smoothly as a unit, and that there aren't conflicts of interest. And I know there is something eating away at you, causing you pain, and inner conflict. Tell me about it. It won't go past me, but I may also encourage you to tell Onslaught so he can factor it into his calculations..."

As Vortex goes on, Blast Off's demeanor shifts subtly from aloof, haughty annoyance to something a little more unsettled. The grip on his glass tightens even further until he finally can't press any more safely, and begins swishing the glass in his hand instead. The strokes are slightly less fluid and more choppy than before, however. Again a subtle difference, but one Vortex might pick up on.

"I.... have no idea what you mean." His cultured voice has picked up a little tension as well.

"We both know that is not true, Blast Off." Vortex says in a very solemn voice. However, Vortex goes silent, and instead allows Blast Off to stew a while. But Vortex never takes his optics off of Blast Off, and just sits there, a quiet but formidible force of determination.

This has brought the shuttleformer to a complete halt as he stares at Vortex. the choppy swishing of his wine continues until eventually some spills, snapping him out of his trance. He grabs a napkin and cleans the mess, then sips from the glass to buy a little more time. "No. No, I don't." He doesn't look at the rotary as he says this. "I have no secrets, why would I?"

Vortex continues to lock his gaze on Blast Off, asserting his force of presence. "Why would anyone keep secrets? We all have our reasons... and sometimes they are misguided in the idea we are protecting someone, whether that someone be ourselves or others." Vortex leans back, seeming to diffuse the intensity of his staring. "I guess the fate of the unit is to dissolve. It's a pity. I only truly feel safe when there is an expert sniper watching my back." Vortex finishes his drink and rises to his feet, a dismissive and regretful air about him.

Blast Off watches Vortex finish his drink and rise to his feet with an increasing uneasiness. Though for the most part he remains as is, staring and sitting stiffly, hand still gripped on the glass he's forgetting to drink out of. "I have NO IDEA what YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT." The shuttle expels a low, sharp huff of air from his ventilation systems. "....And even if I DID, /some/ things are best left unsaid. TO keep others safe."

Vortex pauses and looks at Blast Off silently. HIs mask slides over his face once more as he shakes his head. But what was that? A look of sorrow and pity? It was brief, but it was there. Vortex moves past Blast Off. "Enjoy the rest of the wine."

That look of sorrow and pity just unsettles the shuttle more. Blast Off continues his facade, hwoever, simply sitting there with armor plates bristling slightly. A tense gaze meets the rotary as he turns to leave, the sniper frozen in place. Does Vortex KNOW? He is sure /acting/ like he knows. But Blast Off doesn't want to admit anything about Whirl. He's terrified what might happen- for him, for Whirl, for Vortex. Words escape him and he looks away to stare hard at nowhere in particular.