Right Where It Belongs

Right Where It Belongs - NIN

The room is darker than pitch with a table in the center where a prisoner would be shackled in. Suddenly, a single light turns on, bright and revealing as a spot light in the darkness. Quickswitch stands there, eyes fixed on nothing as his mind decides just where to begin...

Ruiner sits at the table, light shining down over the both of them in the darkened room. Behind a one-way mirror, other officers are watching and observing. Everything he says will be used against him and everyone he cares about.

He's calm, much more than one might expect for his circumstances. He is thinking of the one thing that makes him happy, and as such, a smile breaks across his face out of nowhere.

The Autobot's optics come into focus, and he gazes right at Ruiner's face, his brow aiming upwards. Why is the prisoner smiling at a time like this? Quickswitch speaks in a quiet, affable tone, "My name's Quickswitch. We're going to have a little talk, you and I. If you cooperate, things will go well for you," he does not say what will happen if Ruiner does NOT cooperate however.

"Yeah, yeah, I know how this goes," Ruiner says dismissively, still smiling disarmingly. "Let's get this started then? I can guarantee there will be questions you ask that I won't answer, but it'll be fun to see which is which."

"Alright, let's get started," Quickswitch looks down at the prisoner, "Your name is Ruiner and you're a Decepticon terrorist. Megatron is your leader?" A question the assault unit already knows the answer to, and another, "How many call themselves Decepticon under his banner?" Quickswitch taps fingertips against his arms, waiting. He ignores the prisoner's attitude. THAT will come to determine the direction this takes.

"Don't you guys already have a list of everyone that's a Decepticon? You know, Decepticon Registration Act and all that? Proteus promising to make us a political movement with enough names on the dotted line? Funny how everyone that signed up started disappearing and then coming back with a -totally different personality-," Ruiner points out.

"That ain't my problem," Quickswitch retorts gruffly, fingers tightening on his arm, "I don't really expect every Decepticon to have lined up to sign? Of course, that's why I'm asking for the /real/ numbers. He sighs with irritation. Primus give me strength if this is how it's going to play out.

Still, the mention of Decepticons disappearing and returning with totally new personalities frightens Quickswitch, in ways he can't--doesn't--can't fathom.

"Well, seeing as how I'm just here for illegal body harvesting, I hope you don't expect me to have a complete spreadsheet of names and functions. I just sell to them, I don't have a complete headcount," Ruiner states calmly, despite being chained to the chair in an inhibitor claw.

Fair enough. We'll come back to this later, then... Quickswitch listens with great interest and intensity, dissatisfaction evidenced by the pinch at the corner of his mouth. Primus--"Answer me!" he hisses, drawing closer to Ruiner.

"Do you want me to just take a wild guess? How do you know I'm not going to lie and make up a number?" Ruiner challenges.

Dark fury suddenly floods the sixchanger's face. A small point near his cheek begins to jump and Quickswitch transforms into beast mode, "Meet my beast mode," he says, fury barely in check and a smile forming out of his features, "It likes to rend metal with its claws." The beast almost purrs the last, "Ready to answer now?"

Ruiner's smile turns sharp and definant. "... My bosses used to beat me. Beat me until I could barely function. You think you're gonna scare me like that? /Get real/." Pinned, unable to transform or defend himself, Ruiner plays a gamble against the sixchanger, trying to bluff, threaten and manipulate as much as he can; he has nothing to lose, so he pulls out the stops. "Don't be STUPID!" he growls back. "I already said I don't know how many Decepticons there are! How could I when no one wants to publically admit to it save a handful?!"

"Hmmmmm...." says the beast, "Then perhaps you'll tell me what you /do/ know?" it says this languidly, lifting a paw and flexing its claws absently, "I'll rend you to pieces and have you put back together, as many times as needed to get results." The beast sounds as though it has other things to think about, rather than this interrogation, or, it is simply being a feline.

"All right, here's what I know. The Senate is CORRUPT, the Enforcers pay me to hide their bodies, and I'm being denied due process AND my rights as a middle caste. The Decepticons have a point and the present ruling class doesn't want to hear it. Add to that the fact that you have hunreds of thousands of starving, decommissioned mechs and femmes in the badlands, and it's gonna add up to a CIVIL WAR."

Quickswitch transforms back into robot mode, reeling. A hand is raised to his helm, "The Senate is... the Senate--" the Senate /provides!/--the Senate is terrible.. so terrible.. He feels his throat jump and face pale, remembering the Empties that Rung had shown him. How the world /really/ is.

*Enough! ...This prisoner will talk or I will personally deal with him...* The assault mech feels a glut of emotions strangely growing; impatience, compassion, confusion, denial.

"Please.. just answer my questions.. I don't want to hurt you.." He feels his hand touch his helm, "How many bases and hideouts do you have? What kinds of weapons..?" he asks, gently. A sudden flush of rage and icy coldness threatens to overtake him.

Quickswitch touches his helm. The sudden rush of rage he feels triggers a second transformation, this time--and the assault mech observes quietly--into pistol mode, "This is my gun mode. Guess what it likes to do?"

"Shoot things?" Ruiner asks nonchalauntly. "I'm willing to confess what \*I\* did but you aren't getting anything else out of me. You can hurt me all you want, you can kill me right here, but you won't be able to get in my head!" he challenges.

And the pistol does shoot, somewhere non-vital but still to extract intense pain. Inwardly--the sixchanger winces--how /weak/--let's put an end to this little game--I'm gonna KILL that fragger!!!

Another transformation, a small, weak smile, "Like I said, friend, I'll have you put back together as many times as needed," another twitch of his face, "I think you'll find talking to me, or not talking to me and experiencing excruciating pain, is preferable to what can be done to you, so please, just cooperate."

*This fragger is TOUGH I've gotta give him that much.*

"Listen. I was assigned to interrogate you and that I will do, but I have plenty of /other/ things, frankly, that I could be doing right now," he says, dry and loathing.

"GAH!" Ruiner shouts, injured now. Not like he can dodge a point blank shot. His shoulder leaks, and he grits his dental plating. "So... why don't you go -do them-?" he hisses from a clenched jaw.

"Heh, I'd rather tear yer fraggin spark out!!!" another trnasformation and the sixchanger is back into beast mode, "RRROOWWWLLL! Piece by piece!" It takes a swipe at Ruiner, gives a long, low growl, "...Who has been killing intellectuals? Tell me about Megatron. Speak! Or I will rake you again!" The beast's voice rises to a trembling crescendo.

Ruiner cries out again. Yeah, he's been through this sort of thing before but that doesn't magically make the pain go away. His faceleaks, his optic visor is cracked, a pale blue optic behind the red glass. "I KILLED THEM!" he howls back in rage and hurt. "I KILLED THEM BECAUSE IT'S TIME THEY SUFFERED AS MUCH AS THE REST OF US!"

"Good, good," Quickswitch purrs softly, encouragingly, "You don't have to experience any more of that, ever again. Remember, I don't want to hurt you.. just get some answers. When the answers come, you can be repaired and go back to your cell.." he transforms again--he does that a lot--back into robot mode and massages his temples, "Anything else?"

Ruiner notices that, because dengerative disorders like t-cog hiccups are something he specializes in. All that changing around, all that erratic behavior - oh yes, in his estimation, Quickswitch is broken and in need of repair.

Repair Gauge could have given him, had circumstances been different.

"Yeah. Yeah, I have something else: You're your a /tool/. Just another cog in the machine and you're already missing some gears. I can see it on you plain as day, and the best part is, you're probably never going to get fixed."

Arcee is actually right outside the door. Right around the moment Quickswitch is transforming and 'encouraging' Ruiner to spill his secrets, she leans \*just\* inside the door and captures a few images. Then, she immediately closes the door again, so as Quickswitch is returning to root mode, he may actually hear the door quietly shut -- as if it had \*just\* been ajar microseconds earlier! Strange.

"\*HOWWWLLLL\*" back to beast mode, yowling frustratedly as he KNOWS it's the truth, knows desparately that something is very "not right" about himself and tried to fix it. Get ahold of yourself Quickswitch! The officers are watching! Quickswitch snarls, paces in a small, trapped circle, transforms, "Get Trepan.." he says in a strained and pained voice, "..I won't be a part of this any longer.."

"-Run-," Ruiner hisses barely above a whisper, his face streaked with energon. "/Think about who you should REALLY be fighting/."

Quickswitch stumbles toward the door, hand gripping his helm as if his head might come apart. He thought he'd heard the door but with the way he's feeling, who knows? "You're going to wish you'd heeded my warning, Decepticon," he says, tiredly, "We have ways of making you talk."