A Trip Down Memory Lane

Dusk is falling in Nyon, and for the Decepticon Deadlock, this megacycle is just like any other. He is roaming the streets, looking for a joint that can offer him a cheap drink which will help numb the pain of the small wound on his upper chassis.

 Helm pounding from his hangover from yesterday, the mech stumbles into an alley wall next to a run down looking dive. He looks up and mutters, "Heh, this'll do."

Unless somethings messed with the mechs memory he would notice a familiar figure sitting at the bar. Whether Lockdown immediately notices or recognizes him as he longshot as a cy-gar is clenched within the mechs teeth. Looking up at the barkeep he says, "So much going on in this town lately isn't there." The bounty hunter most likely only gets a nod in response as he adds, "Just give me a shot of engex for now.”

Well, his memory is rather scrambled, but the moment Deadlock lays optics on Lockdown, he frowns. There's something oddly familiar about him, and he isn't sure why or what. He hesitates and peers at the bounty hunter with crimson optics, stepping closer to him, gaze hard.

If there are few feeling many seem to hate its the one of being watched. Its this fact that makes the bounty hunter turns to where he feels the glare is coming from. Catching sight of the other mech, Lockdown raises an optic ridge but then shrugs as he says, "Long time since I last saw you Drift. Been doing well?"

Deadlock starts, looking bothered. "What.. I'm.. My name is Deadlock," he says, frowning at Lockdown. "Do I.. know you?" he asks, peering at the bounty hunter curiously, his expression suspicious.

"Deadlock huh, must be mistaken then. But you do look like a mech I used to work with," Lockdown says keeping his calm. Though this mecha certainly is a dead ringer for Drift whose to say there isn't another like him, "Too bad, he was a good partner."

"...Drift." He pauses, then shakes his helm. "Okay, hold up a klik. I used to be called Drift, and you're saying I look like him? Pretty sure I'm the same guy.. just.. how the hell did I meet you? Partner?" he frowns. "What are you talking about? I don't.. recognize you." But he says that last part slowly and uncertainly.

Lockdown turns to Deadlock as he talks, taking a sip of his drink he places the drink on the bar before finally saying, "Someone must have messed with your mind a bit if you don't recall your old pal Lockdown. Whether you believe me or not is up to you, won't try to convice you. I'll just state that we were working together on a job to take out a few that needed to disappear, including an Autobot." He studies Deadlock for a moment before adding, "Though doubt any of this is revving up your memory core.”

        Someone else from Deadlock's past is sitting at the bar. Another of his former partners in attempted assassination, actually. Quantum is currently sitting alone, having downed his...oh, maybe 20th drink tonight by now? Yeah, he's probably pretty well and hammered.

"What?" Deadlock stares at Lockdown. "I don't know you, mech!" But he has a feeling deep down he does, although he isn't sure why. "I ... No one messed with my m-mind," he stammers, gripping his pounding helm. He orders a drink, the strongest on the menu. "I don't know what you're talking about," he huffs. But when Lockdown mentions Autobot, his interest is piqued? "Oh yeah? Who was it?"

 Man, Deadlock must be taking a hike down memory lane--he notices Quantum sitting at the bar, quite wasted. For some reason, he looks really familiar too. "... dammit," he mutters, "what the /hell/ is going on here?”

"As I said not going to try and make you believe if you don't. No need to cause you any un-necessary distress," Lockdown replies. He takes note of Deadlocks reactions, glancing towards Quantum then back to the other mech as he finally answers his question, "The Autobots name was Arcee, a femme who originally was working for the senate then went on to the bots for reason unknown. More then likely training to protect herself along with following their ideals.

      Deadlock's exclamation attracts Quantum's attention, and he peers at him with a somewhat vacuous gaze. Recognition seems to find its way to his face too, however. He definitely does look familiar. Oh, yeah...wasn't he that mech who he tried to team up with to kill Blast Off, but then he ruined the plan? Hah. "Hey -Drift-. You look different."

 Deadlock's drink arrives, and he takes a long sip from it. "Yeah? Huh, sounds familiar. Did we get her or not? And if not, why didn't we?" he says. However, as soon as Quantum interjects, he scowls. "I do NOT!" He slams his glass down. "I mean, how the hell would you know?! I don't even KNOW you!" He frowns. "Or do I....?" he frowns. "Ah... slag.. " he mutters, shaking his helm.

Lockdown looks to Quantum recognizing the mech from that one time in Kaon but doesn't comment. Instead he looks towars Drift saying, "We made a few attempts but thanks to her comrades includig one other target in particular it became too costly to continue. We did get rid of one on the list but chose to pull out as our employer chose not to listen to negotiations."

It's Hot Rod's signature move: when he enters a place, he doesn't just step inside and continue on like a normal person, but rather he strides through the door, frames himself in the best lighting, and takes a look around. It's somewhere between conscious posturing and unconscious self-importance. He pauses a moment as though all music comes to a halt in his internal soundtrack of life to reflect the turn of attention toward him. Reality does not necessarily match up with this. He spots Deadlock and grins, moving forward; he spots Lockdown and swears, standing still. "/Scrap/."

        "Oh come on, did you hit your head on a zolanium steel block 'er what?" Quantum slurs, shaking his head. "You and were on a job to finish off Blast Off and his little girlfriend that one time, but then you messed everythin' up!"

        He turns around when Hot Rod walks in, because Hot Rod has flames on his chest and is bright red-orange. He smirks. Oh -ha-, THAT guy! He wonders to himself what idiotic thing he's going to do -next-.

"What.. Okay, I have absolutely no recollection of this, but those 'employers' better be slagged and their shanix in our back subspace compartment," Deadlock mutters, finishing off his drink and ordering another round.

 Deadlock isn't sure why, but for some reason Quantum's remark heats him up. "Hey you shut the hell up, okay? I have no idea what you're talking about--" But then Hot Rod walks in. "Do I know these guys!?" he asks the flameo.

        "Huh." Quantum pauses, studying Hot Rod. "Isn't there some kinda reward for turning this guy in? Or killin' ‘im?"

"If you ever do remember I'll send over your part of the shanix," Lockdown replies. A smirk crosses his face as Hot Rod makes his way in but doesn't make any comment. For now he just enjoys his cy-gar as he looks around the bar.

"Ah-ah-ah," Hot Rod chides Quantum. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." He neglects to supply a reason, of course.

Hot Rod edges a few steps closer to Deadlock, casual-like, and admits, "Eh, maybe," without enthusiasm. "Bounty hunters and mercenaries were kind of your thing. But he's an aft--" That's Quantum, in case there was doubt. "--and /he/ tried bounty hunting me earlier so please tell me you're not supposed to be friends.”

Deadlock stares at Hot Rod. "What the hell?! Since when was there bounty on your helm?! Slag... " he grumbles. He glares at Quantum. "Well that's some dirty money you aren't getting tonight," he snarls at Quantum.

 He does a double take, glaring around at... well, everyone. "What the slagging hell?! Aw, come on, I was just starting to like that guy.. again? I mean, is there something weird aft going on here or am I just really drunk??"

"So finally figured out who I was. Said we'd meet again, didn't say we'd be shooting eachother," Lockdown says to Hot Rod and Deadlock, "Infact right now would not be worth it. But to answer your question, he is responsible for a few things here in Nyon which led to it." He doesn't even make any move for his weapons as he just studies the pair.

        Quantum glances at the other mercenary, noting Lockdown's apparent lack of action for now. Well if he's not going to be the first one to jump, then that's his problem. The competition for the prize money is -on-, and always has been. So he starts formulating a plan in his mind, glancing over at the bartender busying himself with drinks behind the counter. Heh.

        The spacer suddenly grins. "Weelllll looks like a happy reunion huh, guess I'll order us some drinks. Put it 'n my tab." He slides off of the barstool he'd been sitting on and makes his way over to the bartender. "Hey," he hisses, his voice low. "Remember me? Ya remember me, right?”

"Uh. So I guess the Nyon cops got kind of sick of me and /maybe/ put together a task force to shut me down," Hot Rod admits as he takes a place next to Deadlock, keeping close watch on the other two. He sounds a little bewildered by it, really. "So I decided as long as they were going to label me a criminal, I was going to go ahead and be one, and next thing I knew they slapped a bounty on my head." He shrugs. WHAT CAN YOU DO.

Leaning around Deadlock to give Lockdown a glance, Hot Rod says, "Everything I've done here, I'd do again. The people you're hunting for aren't worth it."

Deadlock frowns, settling a little. "Yeah.. I hope you two aren't thinking of trying anything funny," he mutters, glancing over in a concerned fashion at Hot Rod.

 The bartender with the dreads and pierced nose turns to Quantum. "Oh, hey there buddy, hope everything between and that lovely purple and brown lady worked out," he adds cheerfully. Then his expression sombers. "Or... did you ditch her?" he whispers back. He frowns, peering at Hot Rod, Lockdown and Deadlock. "You need me to help out with some last minute arrangements?" he asks.

        Quantum nods fervently, and leans in. "No, I ditched her. She wasn't worth my time." he sighs heavily, sounding sad. "Thankfully, I found someone else though." His expression changes to one of fondness as he smiles, glancing toward Hot Rod, though he quickly looks upset again. "But, that other mech," he points at Deadlock, won't stop trying to steal 'er. I keep telling 'im to stop...but he won't listen...I need to deal with him. But not in front of all these people. Dun want anyone walkin'...hic..in on that kinda thin'. Yeah? You catch my drift? Maybe...you can spike his drink...or somethin'..."

Lockdown looks to Quantum as he gets up, not caring if the other makes his move in a public place. If by chance he succeeds so be it. But glancing over at Deadlock he believes the other hunter will have some troubles. Cause while he may not recall some of his past, Drift still looks as formidable as he does. Heading towards the exit he says, "Then simply stop making a mess for others to clean up. Though do wish you good luck if anything does happen." And with that he takes his leave.

"So what's the deal with him," Hot Rod asks, glancing after Lockdown as he heads out. He leans in toward Deadlock, voice low. "Or -- you don't remember, huh?" He's foolish enough to be more focused on Lockdown as a danger than Quantum, and thus oblivious to the exchange with the bartender. "He wasn't telling me to stop making messes, was he? Because /that's/ not happening.”

Deadlock's optics follow Lockdown out of the joint. He sighs. "I don't know. He just showed up out of damn nowhere and said we used to work together, said I was a good 'partner'. Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean.." He shrugs. "I don't know, but seriously, it does need to stop. I can't have you running around with bounty on your helm."

 The bartender's optics widen. "Oooh.. damn! That sucks, mech, you guys were a gorgeous couple," he sighs, sounding disappointed. Then he gives Deadlock the stink optic. "Slag, what a toolbar! Don't worry mech, I got you covered," he says with a foolish grin. He glances over at Hot Rod. "Aw, shucks, always like you to get the nice lookin' ones! I mean, look at those flames! She must be one hell of a mistress. The name's Bumsteer, by the way." Then he gets up and starts shooing the patrons out of the joint. "We're closin' early tonight, ya lousy muggers! Get out!" There aren't too many people hanging around, and though irritated by 'Steer, sourly obey. Soon, the joint is empty except for the three of them. Bumsteer slides Deadlock his drink. "Last one's on the house," he says with a smirk.

        "Heh, nice to meet ya, Bumsteer. Quantum here." The spacer smirks at the name. Ha, all too appropriate. What an idiot. But he slips the mech an extra tip anyway and makes his way back to the table with his own drink. "Hah, not much you can do about it this time around." he shrugs, taking a swig of the glass and setting it down roughly. "'Cept try to keep 'im away from ...well, -everyone-."

Hot Rod laughs. Though it begins bright, the sound ends touched with a hint of bitter. "I don't know, Drift." Eh, he gets it right /sometimes/. "If they're putting a bounty on my head, I think I'm doing something right, you know? You wouldn't believe what this base of theirs we raided was like. They'd gutted a bunch of empties and turned them into puppets so that it looked like it was just a flophouse. They were torturing people. Used disposables for target practice -- it was a mess." He shakes his head and draws in a long breath, steadying his head and cooling his systems. "Yeah, I'll take the bounty. I'll take ten bounties if it means stopping a place like that."

The bartender chasing the others out pulls Hot Rod's attention away from memory and he leans forward to go, "What, you're closing? Aw, come on, don't kick us out," like that was actually a thing that was happening. He's too used to it.

Deadlock gives Hot Rod a pained and wistful look. "Primus, what a hellhole." He sighs. "Look, I'm just worried about you. If you take ten bounties on your helm, then there might not /be/ a you to put a stop to all of that slag," he mutters unhappily.

 "Oh no worries, no worries, ma'am," Bumsteer says, leaning towards Hot Rod, "you and your lovelies can stay.." But he's smirking. Why is he smirking??

 Deadlock takes a swig of the drink Bumsteer offers him and suddenly looks quite faint. "..." Then he passes out on the floor.

        Quantum nods sagely at Hot Rod's abject horror for this place he's talking about, though he probably doesn't actually give a slag that it exists. "Slag, that sounds -horrible-. Well you know...if ya put yer mind to stuff...ya can find a way t' get it done..." They might notice that he hadn't sat back down.

        ...and in the next few astroseconds, it becomes quite apparent -why-.

        As soon as Deadlock passes into stasis lock, the spacer lunges at Hot Rod, drawing his plasma cannon at the same time. "Sorry mech...nothin' personal or anything...but...this kinda thing...kinda m' job."

"Ma'am?" Hot Rod questions first. Then, "/Lovelies/?" He's winding up to shoot another incredulous question at the bartender when Deadlock collapses. That's all he needs to activate his weapon systems.

Guns running hot, Hot Rod snarls, "You just /made/ it personal." He fires at Quantum's gun, not shy about shooting first. Bet the bartender wishes he'd kicked them out now. "What did you do to him?"

Bumsteer just deadpans at the two of them going hot at each other. "Hey! Peace and love, peace and love!!!" he cries, looking confused.

 He just stares at Quantum. "Shucks, you have a funny way of making your love proclamation..." He tries to get in front of Hot Rod. "Ma'am! Don't you understand?! He's tryin' to /propose/ to ya! Come on, miss! See the light already!"

 Deadlock is still lying on the ground, totally passed out for the time being.

        "I didn't do a thing!" Quantum laughs in a maniacally drunken fashion. "He just...hic... had one too many drinks, haha!" In his overcharged state, he doesn't exactly try to dodge Hot Rod's blast, and it catches him in the side. Fuel spurts out of the wound...and so does a strange red foamy substance. Too bad Nautica isn't here, she'd certainly recognize it!

        Plasma weapon fully charged and ready, he moves to take a shot at the flame-painted mech. "Pfff! Outta my way, ya glitched rustbucket!" he shouts, shoving the bartender aside roughly.

"Propose? /Again/?" Hot Rod laughs in Quantum's face -- ish. What with the bartender trying to get in the way. "Mech, you lead a sad, lonely life," he snaps. He's only too happy to join in pushing the bartender out of the way, although he, at least, waves the bartender at Deadlock with a, "/Help him/." Yep. Help him. Like the bartender did already.

Hot Rod turns to take the shot in the thicker armoring painted over with flames. He clashes, grabbing Quantum's arm to slam it against the bar and knock the gun out of his hand, then throw him /over/ the bar.

"Of course! Nooo! It's not me, it's /him/! He's the one with a sad lonely life and a spark desperate for lo--" But then the bartender is shoved rudely out of the way by both Quantum /and/ Hot Rod. "...nggh!" his helm slams against the bar counter and he stasis locks. So much for Hot Rod wanting him to help Deadlock.

 Doesn't matter anyway, because Deadlock is coming to anyway. His vision blurred, he catches sight of the strange red foam oozing out of Quantum. "What the hell.. " He mutters. Then he realizes the guy is trying to murder Hot Rod and scowls. "Hey leave him alone!" He takes out his blaster and aims for the spacer.

        Quantum is flipped over the bar, landing with a hard THUD. Lots of drink containers shatter, the pieces flying everywhere. The weird red foam kinda...oozes out in these stringy-like patterns, floating into the air. Deadlock's shot heads toward Quantum, but when it touches the foam, it...appears to absorbed? Or something. At any rate it just -disappears-. The spacer seems to pay this no mind, however, and he levels a shot at Deadlock in defense.

"Hey! Knock it off!" With Deadlock coming to, Hot Rod pulls him back by the arm, dragging him toward the door. He levels his arm at Quantum, but doesn't risk the shot with all that volatile energon, engex, and who knows what on the bar behind him. Not quite yet. But he threatens, "You shoot again and I'll take you out along with the rest of this bar." Because he really has that ruthless a track record.

"..." Deadlock stares as his shot gets vaporized. "What the frag...! This megacycle just keeps getting weirder and weirder.." He grumbles. His hangover migraine hits again though, and he grips his helm in pain. Then Quantum's blow hits home and knocks him over backwards. "...slag.." he mutters.

 His vision gets hazy again for a moment, but when it clears, he suddenly realizes why Quantum looks so familiar. "Wait a nanoklik.." He glances at Hot Rod. "Let him go. I need a word with this guy." He stands up, rifle still in hand. "You still wanna give Blast Off a piece, don't you?" he addresses the spacer.

        "Ha...really? That's lofty talk, for someone like -you-. You wouldn't really blow up this entire place with that poor innocent bartender still here, would ya?" Quantum taunts. "Wouldn't be -heroic- 'nuff for ya...haha!"

        He was about to go for another shot at Hot Rod, but the mention of -Blast Off- catches his attention. "Never finished...th' job..." he slurs. "Woulda, but you had to go 'n mess it up."

"You /need a word with him/?" Although he's incredulous, Hot Rod's also listening. Despite having exchanged shots with Quantum only moments earlier, he angles his wrist down, backing off on his threat. (Total bluff.) He glares at Quantum, but addresses his words to Deadlock. "He just knocked you out, mech. You can't trust him. And listen to him! He's out of his processor. You sure about this?”

"What and you don't think I can take care of myself? It's you he's after, so get the hell out before he decides the bounty on your helm is worth more than Blast Off's helm on a platter." His optics narrow at Quantum, before he glances briefly over at Hot Rod. "I'll be fine."

 "Okay, just... forget that. I won't mess it up this time. I promise. But leave Hot Rod alone."

        Quantum narrows his optics at Deadlock, looking a bit suspicious, though he also lowers his weapon. He definitely looks odd, with all those loopy-looking red things floating around him. Some of it touches a table, and half of it disappears, just as Deadlock's shot from earlier had. "What are you saying?" he asks, his voice lowering. "You're gonna help me get him again?"

"Sure you can, as long as you never drink anything when he's around," Hot Rod says, giving Quantum a last dirty look. He deactivates his weapons, systems cycling down, and then shrugs. He gives Deadlock a look, then shakes his head. "Thought you and Blast Off were fighting on the same side these days," he murmurs in a quiet aside, turning away from Quantum toward Deadlock. "Be careful, yeah?"

"Well.. That was before." Deadlock frowns. "We can talk about this later, Rod. But now isn't a good time. I'll be fine. Take care of yourself, and don't worry about me."

 To Quantum, he says, "Yeah. I remember why you look so familiar now." He pauses. "<But if you really want to get Blast Off, you're going to have to join the Decepticons. Because any outsiders trying to damage Decepticon rank will get squashed instantaneously. You want him dead? You have to go in from the inside>”

        Quantum considers this for a moment. Heh. The Decepticons, that ragtag team of rebels led by that ex-miner, feh. But eh, what does he have to lose, anyway? He's no dummy...war is coming, and if experience is worth anything, he knows that those who couldn't pick a side were going to be left high and dry and likely caught in the crossfire.

        Besides, Drift seems to have at least gotten some sense knocked into him. "Hmph. Fine, I guess, if they'll take me. But if we're going to do this, we're going to do it on -my- terms, -my- way.”

"Ah, I got you." Hot Rod doesn't do anything so obvious as wink, but from the way his manner lightens, he has made certain assumptions about Deadlock's plans. His assumptions have little to do with reality. He heads for the door, but not before first giving Deadlock a clasp on the shoulder and saying, "Seriously, though, be more careful with your drinks." Then he leaves the two behind so that Deadlock can lure Quantum into a deadly trap. Because that's what's happening, right?

Deadlock shrugs. "Fine. Whatever you say," he says, optics narrowing. "But don't expect me to not throw a wrench in your plan if it starts compromising my status in the Decepticon rank," he leers at the spacer.

 Deadlock simply waves off Hot Rod's concern, shaking his helm, watching him carefully as he leaves the joint. "So.. deal, then?" he says to Quantum, turning back to the mercenary.

        Quantum scoffs. "What do you think I am, stupid? Obviously I couldn't take any action out in the open, in front of any of the others. Everything would have to be kept as subtle as possible." He nods. "Fine, deal."