Need Like a Shot to the Head

*Note from Swivel: Hopefully I am not overstepping boundaries by editing logs someone else uploaded, but I felt I ought to keep in with providing clarification for readers on just what Swivel is trying to say.  Following my poses, I will include a Swivel Translation.*

Once again Blast Off is in Nyon. The shuttleformer has just finished up one of his cargo runs, and is currently heading towards a nearby bar to have "one for the road"... or actually sky. It's been a long few cycles... though the shuttle is feeling a little better now, having recently met another Combaticon. One who actually helped break through at least a little of his latest phobias and fears caused by his prison experiences. Not that they're gone yet, but for the first time he sees a light at the end of the tunnel. Coming to the bar front, he slows down and looks around to make sure no one he knows has seen him. He doesn't need uninvited company, after all.

Uninvited company? That's kind of Whirl's thing as is many number of annoying things, it seems. As soon as Blast Off cautiously approaches the bar, the familiar figure of Whirl comes barging through the door, literally crashing into the Combaticon on his way out.

"Hey! Watch it, loser!" the cyclops snaps, instinctively throwing his claws out to shove the other mech out of his way. It's at this point he realizes who it is and he hesitates, a quiet almost inaudible sound emitting from him. Is he.. is he growling? What a weirdo.

"Blast Off..."

Blast Off gets smacked into while looking the other way. The shuttle lets out a loud \*HUFFFF\* as the other mech's impact causes the lightweight flier to go stumbling back. His face snaps around to glare at this oaf, and suddenly his entire field of vision is filled with... claws. Optics widen and Blast Off takes another step back.

"Whirl." Suddenly he remembers Whirl wanted to talk to him. About ...her.

Blast Off takes a step back and Whirl takes a step forward, doing everything he can to close the space between them faster than the Combaticon can make it. "You..." His claws twitch slightly as he draws closer to the shuttleformer, his optic flickering ever so slightly. He KNEW Blast Off was there the other cycle, he could feel it, but that damn massive mining mech was able to distract him well enough that he couldn't be sure.

"You owe me some answers. We can do this the easy way, where you tell me everything without an issue. OR! Or.. I could interrogate you until you talk." He snaps a claw at the other mech. "Which would you prefer? A friendly conversation, or having your heat shields peeled back one by one?"

On one level, Blast Off wouldn't mind answering the other mech. He can at least understand Whirl's concern for Shiftlock and his desire to know what happened to her. But it's a... painful subject, given what he's learned, which has brought about his recalcitrance... and now it is Whirl's \*attitude\* that Blast Off dislikes the most. The mech keeps moving in, getting inside his personal space, and now he's \*threatening\* him.

No, the Combaticon doesn't like this /one bit/. He has /never/ liked being told what to do, after all. So his optics flare a bright purple, especially as the cyclops starts threatening to peel off his /heat shields/. His own engines begin to growl in response, though he still moves back. "You are NOT my Boss. I see no rank of Commander there." His gun hand twitches, and his blaster appears from subspace. "Now get out of my FACE, or suffer the consequences!"

"Are YOU threatening ME!?" Whirl suddenly becomes indignant, well, more so. And far more aggressive. His entire body is tense, like he's just barely holding together, all his rage and frustration just begging to come out in a fantastic display of violence. "And you're right, I'm not your Commander. This is the streets and there's no such thing as rank on the streets so there's no reason for me to NOT kick your ass!"

Whirl can't help but notice the gun that appears in Blast Off's grip. "Oh? Going to shoot me, or are you just going to say you are? Sometimes I doubt your ability to even pull the trigger." He laughs a bit and draws closer, so close that his body presses against the barrel of the Combaticon's gun. "I'm not afraid of you, Blast Off, but you should be afraid of me. Now... I KNOW you know what happened to Shiftlock and I want you to tell me and I want you to do it NOW."

“Only because you are threatening /me/." The Combaticon lifts his head up in a display of haughty aloofness. "I'd suggest you think twice about trying to "kick" a Combaticon's "aft".... you WILL regret it." He braces his arm as Whirl jams up against his gun barrel. "Your lack of fear only shows that you never came up against one of my kind. I'm was Primal Vanguard for a \*reason\*, you know." He keeps the gun pointed, but doesn't fire. Yet.

Then the mention of Shiftlock's name causes a momentary glance away as memories are stirred and regret stabs at him once more. And again he \*ought\* to just let Whirl know, but his stubborn /pride/ has been injured and as a warrior he doesn't feel like backing down. He glares at the other mech. "Get out of my face, and maybe I'll \*tell\* you."

When Blast Off starts bragging about being a Primal Vanguard, the wheels inside Whirl's head begin to turn. Yes, he's mentioned it before but he's never made the connection until now. Didn't Shiftlock mention something about being with a Primal Vanguard? And how he was kind of a snob? And how he said she was too young for him? And how....

Oh Primus, she was talking about HIM wasn't she? It makes so much sense, how did he not notice it before? It would explain his cageyness anytime he brings up her name, and it would also explain how he even knew who she was.

".....Did you interface Shiftlock?" Whirl says rather bluntly, getting even further up in Blast Off's face, so close the Combaticon can probably see his reflection in that yellow optic of his. "Did you?"

And he makes a NICE reflection, too, you know. Blast Off \*tries\* to keep himself as polished and gleaming as he can, despite living in the ruskbucket that is Kaon. Still- this is NOT the way Blast Off likes to see that reflection. And then he has to go ask- THAT. The shuttleformer erks, stumbling back again and feeling his circuitry warming with flustered embarrassment. ".... /What/!?!?" The answer is technically no. They hardlined, but he never got to interface with her... something he finds he regrets now. Well, sort of. I mean, she turned out to be so /young/, and then it was no longer /appropriate/, and yet still....

Couth, uncouth... he still wished they had had something more. Or could have eventually, if she hadn't been taken away and changed forever. He ALSO wishes that Whirl hadn't brought that up. Truth is, he finds he's \*jealous\* that Whirl /did/ have that experience with the femme- and he /didn't/. He DOESN'T want to admit that Shiftlock seemed to like Whirl more. That jealousy adds an extra growl to his own words. "...How is that /any/ of /your/ business, anyway?!"

"It's not any of my business!" Whirl snaps, throwing his arms out to either side in frustration. "But I'm going to make it my business! You were involved with her in some fashion. You can lie all you want about it, but I'm not stupid." He lowers his arms and gives Blast Off the nastiest glare he can possibly give. "I know she was with other people, I know she still had feelings for some of them. She's a complicated person and I get that, that's not the issue here. The issue is that you were close to her, close enough that you went through the effort to track down what happened to her, and you're withholding information from me because.... Why?"

The cyclops darts forwards, closing the gap between them and getting right into Blast Off's personal space. His claws are poised to strike the Combaticon low, maybe gouging into a leg or a hip joint. It doesn't matter, Whirl just wants to see that sweet sweet Blast Off energon. "TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED TO HER, BLAST OFF. TELL ME BEFORE I'M FORCED TO TEAR YOUR SPARK OUT THROUGH YOUR MOUTH."

[Combat:] Whirl partially hits Blast Off for minor damage!

Blast Off just about crackles with tension and anger, his armor plates bristling as Whirl keeps getting waay too much into his personal space. He returns the glare, still leaning back and still holding his gun up and ready for action. "Because you keep getting in my SPACE, that's why!" There's another angry hufff. "And because you keep \*threatening\* me, that's why!" HUFFFF. "And because you keep ORDERING me AROUND, that's why!!!" The Combaticon is far too prideful for his own good, as evidenced by Whirl's sudden lunge. He tries to dart backward, but the 'copter's claws connect with the shuttleformer's hip. While the damage isn't that deep, it is enough to draw out some of that energon Whirl apparently wants to see, staining his brown paint with purple. "Gahhh!"

That /does it/. Blast Off's optics flash with anger as he makes a leap backwards, using antigravs to add an extra boost. Though the damaged hip doesn't help with that, and he stumbles just a bit before launching away. "/NO/. Back the SLAG OFF before I finally decide to put you out of BOTH our misery!" And with that, he fires his weapon straight at Whirl's chest!

[Combat:] You miss Whirl!

Had this verbal exchange happened under different circumstances, Whirl might've been able to see how much he and Blast Off have in common. What the Combaticon is angrily huffing at him is no different than the things Whirl would say if he were in the same situation. Unfortunately, he's far too angry to see the parallels between the two of them and the irony is lost upon him.

The cyclops has only a moment to admire the purple liquid that blemishes the Combaticon's pristine finish before the mech in question retreats into the air. At this point, the fighting has attracted some attention; a few individuals inside the bar have started watching through the windows with some even leaning in the doorway for a better view. There's some pointing and chatter but no one appears to be making any effort to intervene.

"THEN DO IT!" Whirl stands below the hovering shuttleformer, arms outstretched. "Shoot me! Make me leak! You think you're tough? Think you're some kind of bad-ass warrior? Then stop posturing and kill me!"

Blast Off ... MISSES??!! Again??!! Oh COME ON. Why can't he ever seem to actually HIT this guy? The shuttleformer hovers in the air now, optics still flashing angrily as he looks down his nose at Whirl standign there below him, flinging his arms out. And \*taunting\* him. Perhaps it's his recent meeting with Starchamber, reminding him of his warrior roots. Perhaps it's his anger and frustration at what happened to Shiftlock, how he FAILED her. How the Autobots just keep \*taking\* things from him. Perhaps it's his annoyance at Whirl, and his jealousy at the other mech's apparently better \*standing\* with Shiftlock... and perhaps it's his frustration at how no matter how \*mannered and civilized\* he tries to be, the world just keeps pushing him towards violence. /Perhaps/ he should... just GO with that.

"Fine." He states coldly, then takes another shot- right at Whirl's head.

[Combat:] You hit Whirl!

Among the looky-loos is none other than the femme who seemed to lack the ability to enunciate. Hanging out the door with a bottle lifted to her mouth, one can only imagine how much more slurred her words could get. But that isn't the focus here. The focus is the heated fight brewing out in the street. As Swivel lowers her current bottle of happy drink and squints, she recognizes the mech on the ground doing the most of the taunting. A very different set of behaviours is displayed so she leans out a little more... until someone impatiently shoves her out of her space to get a better view. Taking a few steps to actually save herself from face planting like her spectacular display the other meeting, she lands herself perilously near danger.

This entire confrontation has been brewing for some time now, just waiting for the right moment to explode in a violent, angry mess. Every interaction the two mechs have ever had, from the very first time they crossed paths up until this exact moment, was just leading up to a dramatic blow up. How appropriate that it was over someone they both knew and obviously care about. Dames, right?

The problem is Whirl really liked her. A lot. She found him when he needed someone the most and she treated him like a regular person, like he wasn't just a mutilated freak living on the street. She made him feel things he hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity and, most importantly, she saved his miserable life when he was only moments away from death. He could never figure out if she liked him as much as he did her or if it was just something she said to make him feel good, but he was content with just having been with her at all.

And then he stabbed her, and although they mostly worked that out, it doesn't change the fact that it was the last interaction he had with her before she disappeared. Now her whereabouts, the story of what happened to her, and possibly a chance to help her are JUST in his reach. All that stood in his way was Blast Off.

Whirl was subjected to Blast Off's ego on more than one occasion and he's heard countless times about what a great shot Blast Off is, and what an awesome sniper Blast Off is, and how Blast Off is the best guy you can put behind a rifle, and blah blah blah. It was all crap, Whirl had never seen the mech actually hit something dead on, much less him, so he's pretty confident that the Combaticon is going to screw it up again. Unfortunately for Whirl, he was sooooooooooooo very wrong.

The round hits it's mark dead-on, striking him straight in the optic and punching right through his head. The mech immediately collapses to the ground in a heap. Good job, Blast Off!

Blast Off spares a glance as one of the spectators suddenly makes more of an entrance and... wait, isn't that the femme who needed a "sophistication" lesson? He blinks a moment at that, but soon focuses back on Whirl. The Combaticon is \*ticked off\*... he's had all he can take and he can't "take no more"! Right now, he's quite focused, and feeling quite deadly...

And indeed... deadly is an appropriate description. The sniper finally focuses enough to demonstrate just WHY he is the marksmech of the Combaticons. Whirl falls at the shot, and at first Blast Off feels nothing but satisfaction. "I \*told\* you not to mess with a \*Combaticon\*, fool." His stares down coldly at the cyclops, then glances towards the crowd like- you wanna \*make\* something of it? He'll show them \*criminal\*, bah! Then he studies Whirl again... and he doesn’t appear to be getting up. While the Combaticon is NOT a compassionate mech, he also does still care about Shiftlock. And given that she cared about Whirl... well... that could get messy. He then has to stifle of twinge of pain, as he realizes it probably doesn't matter \*anyway\*. She's been brainwashed and is probably gone for good. It doesn't /matter/. All of this is enough to launch him into a wave of melancholy after that lift of victorious validation.

Suddenly the shuttleformer's sinking down, back to the ground, and lowers his weapon. He stares at the fallen mech- not offering to help him, but not shooting at him anymore either. So... um, \*should\* he do something, or not?

Fortune has not been an ally to Swivel. Actually, that capricious lady luck has really been absent from most of Cybertron. She had just managed to stabilise herself when... SPLAT! The spatter of energon and who knows what else on Swivel is the least of her problems, as her reflexes to get away coupled with some disorientation causes her to try and go two directions at once. Instead she mills over, once again, face down on the ground. But some humiliation wasn't the problem - it was the falling of one crumpled and currently optic-less mech that was. Before Swivel can crawl away, she gets pinned underneath. And no one may even notice at first, because she is outright stunned with the idea that a dead or dying mech MIGHT be on top of her. Hopefully, a shot through the head isn't fatal. Right? Oh, but Swivel isn't really a medic of any sort.

After a short pause, Swivel begins struggling to get out from under Whirl. This may make it looks as though Whirl were moving. Swivel manages to get her wrist close to her mouth, where her radio is built in.

<Need a medic down here.... in front of.. uh... that bar... uh...>

Swivel flounders until she remembers the name of the bar and supplies it. HOpefully, the medic she met previously is listening. Swivel doesn't even care that she's speaking "normally". That hardly matters.

Did somebody call for a medic? Dun da dun! Panacea gets the call and immediately 'speeds' her way over. Okay, so her alt form isn't as fast as some, she certainly isn't a racer, but it probably beats walking. But, for now, Swivel will have to wait.

Blast Off's victorious taunts fall of deaf audio receptors. IF Whirl can even hear him, he's sure as hell in no condition to respond. He's also in no condition to comprehend or do anything about falling on top of the poor femme he met just a cycle ago. Every now and then part of Whirl's body will twitch, sometimes a claw, sometimes a foot. Sparks occasionally shoot out from the gaping hole in the back of his head, but other than that he does nothing. Well, no, he bleeds a lot.

Blast Off tenses as Whirl twitches, preparing for possible trouble again. But that's all he does. Hmm. The shuttleformer blinks, then looks around once more. Optics scan the crowd as he wonders if he should actually \*do\* anything or not. Hmm. Not sure. So he stands there, gun in hand just in case someone starts some trouble.

There's another twitch just as Blast Off realizes that... street urchin has disappeared. Hmm, where'd she go, anyway? He looks downwards. Wait, is someone UNDER there? Again- he just stands there. Helping might be too much effort, after all. Especially if the police arrive. Then again... he knows Shiftlock would've likely been quite angry at him if Whirl dies, so maybe.... aw, slag, he doesn't know. Indecisive, he remains standing there, looking aloof.

Swivel is bled upon. A lot. And perhaps gets a few minor shocks and nicks from twitchy claws and exposed wires. Swivel tries very hard to get her other arm, which is pinned at her side, free enough to either pull herself out, or try to push against the ground and hopefully cause the dead weight to roll off of her. When this is in vain, she opens her mouth to speak, only to have it filled with, well, Swivel doesn't want to think about what that is as she spits it out. It was hard enough whispering into the radio. Twisting her head at an uncomcofrtable angle, she tries again to speak. Or shout, rather. "KIN SUMMUN GET 'IM OFFER ME? PLEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA - \*sputter spit cough\*"

*S.T.: "Can someone get him off of me?"*

After a little while an odd looking vehicle with a single rotating light at the front in place of headlights comes rolling into the area. It has a long, flat back, bracketed by side bars, and a bunch of spindly 'arms' coming out of the rear of the cab. "Someone call for a medic?" comes a voice from the vehicle; Swivel and Blast Off might recognize the voice as Panacea. "Move aside, move aside; I can't help if people are clustered around staring, you know."

If Whirl knew Panacea would be rushing (if you can call it that) over to help him, he would be mortified. Wasn't he just trash talking hospitals and, by association, medics the last time he saw her? Amazing that anyone could actually give a crap about him considering how terrible he can be. The mech twitches again and if someone is listening veeeryyyy closely, they might be able to hear him mumble something.

The aloof Combaticon's demeanor is interrupted as Swivel calls out for help. Slag. Great, so Whirl DID fall on someone. Lovely. That must be where the street urchin went. \*siiigh\*. Blast Off finally snaps out of his indecision and begins walking over, intending to at least \*kick\* Whirl away (that's helping, right?). /Maybe/ even check to see if Whirl's alive or not. SO CARING.

His forward advance is halted as Panacea makes her entrance. Turning to look as the vehicle approaches, he decides that for now he'll just get out of her way. Don't really want to get on the bad side of a medic if he can help it. He begins to step back, as requested- then realizes the gun is still in his hands. Hmm. A medic may or may NOT get the right impression here. Bceause surely there is a /right impression/, and it doesn't involve the impression of him shooting Whirl point-blank in the head. No, definitely not. The gun is quickly subspaced.

Swivel is relieved to hear Panacea has arrived, and so promptly too! She stops squirming in case that makes things worse, and she would not wish to be scolded by a medic. For medic scoldings are the worst.

Assuming the crowd makes way for the medic (perhaps they have the same notion as Blast Off and don't want to get on the wrong side of the medic, or perhaps they are dispersing because there is no longer a conflict), she will pull right up alongside the fallen mech. Carefully six of the mechanical arms reach down and lift the prone mech upwards. From the top of the cab a scope snakes loose and starts to survey the damage. "This looks pretty bad; what happened here?" Panacea doesn't wait for an answer though; already she is using one of the arms to clear the space of the injury to make the workspace as optimal as possible.

Whirl can barely hear Panacea or.. anything else really. Everything just sounds like rushing water, maybe that's just the sound of energon spilling out of his wound or an auditory hallucination brought on by a near death experience. It wouldn't be the first time something like this has happened! If Whirl was conscious he would definitely be pointing a finger (claw?) at Blast Off and declaring him the sole reason this whole thing happened. But he's not, so he doesn't.

Blast Off just keeps watching the scene. At Panacea's question, he looks just a little... shifty-opticed. "He... had an accident." Yeah, that'll work. Primus knows he doesn't need more trouble and more attention drawn to himself. Or MORE criminal records- or murder charges, should the mech die.

Crick. Crack. Pop. These are the sounds of Swivels joints and such returning to their normal positions. Being caught between a mech and a hard place had put undue strain on Swivel's form, but nothing was outright broken. The femme exvents a sigh of relief while she systematically rotates several socketed joints and then relaxes. On the ground. Covered in Whirl juice. Slowly Swivel sits up and looks at her hands. Then her forearms. Then down at her chestplate, her legs. All of it smeared in energon. Used energon. Not the pleasant edible kind. Although for a brief moment Swivel wonders about trying to lick some off and see if it does her system any good. However, this possibly morbid (but really just fuelled by curiousity) thought process is interrupted when she hears a blatant lie. She turns her head, wide opticked, and stares HARD at Blast Off. "Woh? Tha'sa lie!"

*S.T.: "What?  That is a lie."*

It is a fortunate thing for medics that they can speak while they are working. The 'arms' on the back of the cab move with great industry, holding various tools of the trade. Holes around the wound are welded shut to stop the leakage of energon. Any wires that can be connected are done so, while others are 'capped' to stop sparking. It's really the equivalent of first aid happening; anything that needs replacement parts will have to wait. "What sort of accident?" she starts to inquire. Then Swivel speaks up and the scope flits to her for a second before 'looking' back at her work. "What is your version then?" she inquires as one of the arms holds out a cloth for Swivel to clean herself with. Yup, Panacea is so very helpful.

More likely than not, Whirl is going to need to see a specialist about having some parts replaced. In the mean time, Panacea's hard work is extremely successful, the cyclops' systems starting to stabilize as wires are capped and leaks are contained. It seems he might come out of this alive, much to Blast Off's chagrin no doubt.

Blast Off stares right back at Swivel as she denies his... denial. HOW DARE SHE. The shuttleformer doesn't move for a long moment... and then a wing elevon twitches and his stare falters and breaks. He looks away, unable to meet her in the optics. "Well... it WAS... in a way." He didn't mean to actually \*kill\* the mech. Whirl might not believe it, but he really wasn't. He just wanted the mech to leave him alone.

Swivel does not stop staring at Blast Off, even when he breaks away his own gaze. "My version?" Swivel repeats nice and slow and surprisingly well enunciated, still keeping her vigil upon Blast Off. It's not a judging or shaming stare. It almost looks like she is searching for something. She hesitates in saying anything further on the matter, but then begins to hash out some words. "Wellum, I dinna see ther'ole thing, b'I came out jus' as Whirl got shot through th'ead." A look of panic suddenly arises over her and she stands up, shouting as loud as she can. "THER'S A SNIPER 'ROUND 'ERE WE ALL GUNNA DIE!"

*S.T.: "There is a sniper around here, we are all going to die."*

Those arms are working steadily. A great deal of pain inhibition will be applied; there's not much she can do for the mech's optic out here in the open. Still, before he gets too alert, she buckles Whirl into place on her 'back'. No sense in having him thrash around or fall off when she gets ready for transport.

As for Blast Off, he's rapidly going to find the 'scope' staring him down. "Listen, I don't care what you might have done, or not done, but when I ask what happened I want the truth. It's a danger to me, and to my patient, if I do not have an accurate idea of what went on. I'm not an officer of the law, and frankly I don't care about it at all. Do I make myself clear?" Her tone is firm, but she does not raise her voice.

While the scope doesn't move away from Blast Off, it turns ever so slightly towards Swivel. "What was that for? Panicked citizens make for dangerous obstacles."

Whirl is secured on top of Panacea which is for the best because if he were to come to during transport, he would no doubt make a break for it. Oh, and he'd go right back to Blast Off and shoot him in the head too, it's only fair!

Blast Off can feel Swivel's stare on him, even after he breaks away. Great... She'll tell Panacea, and there will soon be yet \*another\* mark against him... another criminal charge. His fists clench once, then release again, and he looks bitterly away. And then... Swivel /cuts him some slack/? The shuttle turns his head to look back at her in surprise and now it is HE who is searching for something- like an answer as to \*why\*. Then when she starts to try sowing panic among the crowd, he looks around, getting into the act. "Y- yes! We should be careful, he /might still be around/..." He puts an emphasis on those last words, glaring at the crowd as if \*daring\* them to say what actually happened. Fortunately for him, enough nearby passers-by just hear the words about a sniper and "WE ALL GONNA DIE" for a panic to start up. The crowd begins to mill, part and stampede away in all directions.

Meanwhile, Blast Off simply stands in place, now staring at Panacea's scope. Violet optics flicker and he responds, "I... think he got in a fight with someone. They appear to have gotten up high somewhere... and shot him in the head." Well- hey, it's technically THE TRUTH... it just leaves out the fact that HE did it! He turns to watch Whirl get lifted up. "Is... he going to be alright?"

Swivel couldn't be more pleased when the pandemonium starts up. She is less pleased that it got her reproach fromfrom the medic. "Bu! Folk shu'know! LIVES'RE IN DANGER!" This second shouting is probably enough to cause any scragglers to pick up the pace. Of course, whoever owns the bar isn't going to be happy about how this effects their business, but that is far from Swivel's mind.

Swivel scuttles over closer to Blast Off, and it certainly looks as though she is using him as a human shield the way she crouches a bit and makes sure to put herself on the side opposite of where the trajectory likely came from. Not that she really has a handle on trajectory. While doing this, she is also trying to wipe some of Whirl off of her. And when she thinks no one is looking, she curiously shoves the soiled cloth into her mouth and sucks the energon out.

*S.T.: "But!  Folks should know!  Livers are in danger!"*

As far as Whirl is concerned, Panacea is all tenderness, though he's probably not cognizant enough to realize it. She's not one of those medics that enjoy suffering, and she abhors those who do, so she makes sure there is enough 'drugs' in his system to keep him as comfortable as possible.

The 'scope' stares balefully at Blast Off for another moment then withdraws to look over Whirl again. "Alright. So it /was/ a shot from outside, which means there shouldn't be any threats inside. Sabotage is very nasty and a few medics have gone to scrap because they weren't careful," emits Panacea, somewhat mollified. She didn't need to know WHO hit Whirl, just that he WAS hit. "He has a good chance of recovery, though he will not be able to see until I can get his optic replaced." She sighs softly. "If he had standard optics I could take a temporary donation, but his is rather unique. Some of his systems will also be down until I can get where my spare parts are. This form of mine is mostly for emergency repairs."

She doesn't have much to say to Swivel at this point, but she issues a general statement of, "I'm going to take this poor mech back to someplace I can work in a little more peace and quiet and hopefully get enough parts to make him somewhat functional for now. Feel free to check in with me if you wish to." And she starts spinning her wheels to get out of there, going only as fast as is 'safe' for her passenger.

Great, maybe this means Whirl will have to spend some time in a hospital waiting for the rest of his repairs and a new optic. He's going to love that. Hey, maybe if he's lucky Blast Off will come visit him and they can have a rematch in the hospital. Nurses love when patients start punching eachother, right?

Blast Off looks a little uncertain as Swivel uses him like a shield, but at this point he's not going to complain too much. So he stands there, being a shield. He watches Panacea work and... well, he DOES feel some satisfaction still at finally showing Whirl he really \*isn't\* anyone to mess with. Finally hit the bugger when he needed to! And yet... the memory of Shiftlock haunts him, and while she may be gone now.... he knows she'd be unhappy had she ever learned Blast Off killed the mech. Even if he IS jealous of the cyclops. Who did also at least seem to \*care\* about Shiftlock, and was just trying to help and find out information, and.... Gah. It's... complicated. Thankfully, he does NOT notice Swivel sucking on that cloth or he'd be seriously weirded out right now.

He looks to Panacea's scope, then relaxes just a bit as she seems to by this explaination. Whew. He nods at the news Whirl will probably live. "Good." Unfortunate, perhaps, that Whirl won't be able to see... but then again- it will make it harder for him to track Blast Off down that way, so.... hey, looking on the bright side, right? What, visits to the hosptial? Shooting at "patients"? Actually, Blast Off already experienced that with Blurr, and no need to repeat himsefl. He watches the medic carry him away, then turns to Swivel. "I should be going as well." If she's still sucking on the cloth, she will get a raised optic.

It doesn't take long before Swivel removes the rag from her mouth screwing up her face, as if asking herself incredulously 'did I just do that?'. She busies herself with trying to wipe the rest away, but for the most part, a pressure shower will have to be used. When Blast Off explains that he should be going she looks up with wide purple optics. Nothing about her suggests any explanation for why she did what she did. In fact, one might even believe that she really did not see who shot the cyclops. She looks vapid and artless as ever. "Uh.... buh... y'think i'safe now? I dun wanner lose m'ead too!" She seems determined to move with the mech to keep him as a shield for as long as possible. That won't be long, since she can't fly.

*S.T.: "Uh, but, do you think it is safe now?  I don't want to lose my head too."*

Panacea absconds with Whirl; she doesn't have anything else to say at this point. Her only thoughts now are getting Whirl to safety and wondering where on Cybertron she'll be able to get a good replacement for that shattered optic. It's not like they're found in the average parts shop. She also doubts that Whirl is a mech of any great means to order a custom part. She'll have to see what she can do with her mid-caste wages.

Blast Off stares down at Swivel, finding that confusion seems to be his standard state of being when she's around. He winces a bit at that cloth... then sighs and shrugs. "Yes... I think it's safe now. ...For now, at least." He gives her a polite nod, then turns to walk away- and he allows her to use him as a shield, should she desire, at least long enough to leave the "scene of the crime". He probably owes her that much, whether she knew she helped him or not. Then the shuttle will indeed be off, flying once more back into the air.

The small femme merrily falls in step beside Blast Off for a while until there is a safe distance. Chattering away in her incomprehensible dialect. "Wa'th'ever scene, guv! I tho'I'd lose me nuts'n'bolts scared was I. An' lemmme tell y'it in' m'uz'wol cycle, know whadda mean?" Of course she hardly expects a response and goes on to yammer until the Shuttlechanger departs. Actually, she keeps walking and yammering on even after he's left... and someone flying away IS extremely obvious.

*S.T.: "Was that ever a scene, guv.  I thought I'd lose my nuts and bolts, scared as I was.  And let me tell you it is not my usual cycle, know what I mean?"*