Liaison to Nyon

Whirl never really knows what to expect when it comes to life, every day is like some kind of terrible new surprise that he's thrust in the middle of. Just a few cycles ago, Whirl was greeted with one of these unwelcome surprises, namely having Sky Lynx himself request his audience. At first Whirl assumed Sky Lynx was going to accuse him of some sort of wrong doing (which isn't always wrong) but it actually resulted in Whirl getting a super secret (not really) super special (not really) assignment.

Whirl was made the Autobot's official ambassador to the Nyonese rebels. Yes, you read that right. Sky Lynx decided that Whirl, of all people, was best suited for this sort of delicate political work.

Which brings us to the here and now. Whirl has just made the trip from the Decagon to the Rust Narrows, landing just close enough to the Acropolex to attract attention but far enough away that Hot Rod's more aggressive rebels don't take it as an invitation to come out and start punching him. He transforms and stares at the dilapidated structure with that single optic of his, sending a private message to Hot Rod to inform him of his arrival.

Ha ha, just kidding. He starts yelling really loud both in person and over the local frequencies.

-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "HOT ROD."

-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "HOT ROD."

-- Radio: Global -- Hot Rod says, "It wasn't me."

-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "It was, but I digress. Come outside and say hi to me, you jerk."

-- Radio: Global -- Hot Rod says, "Yeah, it probably was. Fine."

Greeting this careful balance of forthright determination and thoughtful caution with the care it deserves, Hot Rod yells right back. Once that's settled, it's not long before he follows up his words by driving up to say hi. He swings around the corner all flashy and speedy in alt mode, transforming into a vertical gleam of red and gold.

A Nyon free of the influence of its corrupt and terrible law enforcement isn't that much different than Nyon /with/ it. The absence of law and order has not notably changed the presence of actual order, other than to say that there's a little less chance of empties getting rounded up for target practice. Behold: PROGRESS. IN NYON. Hot Rod looks a little harried, but there's a smile on his face as he crosses to meet Whirl. "What, no hands yet? Mech, those Autobots are jerks. Holding out on you."

Whirl would be grinning from non-existant ear to non-existant ear if he could, but he cant so he doesn't. Instead he just STARES at Hot Rod for a long while before finally shrugging. "Yeah, they are, but if you're going to blame anyone for that, blame that jerk-wad Starscream." He shakes his head and huffs a little bit. JUST A LITTLE BIT, OKAY? "That guys sucks. Anyway, I didn't come all the way over here to bitch about Starscream." It's true, he didn't, but he would probably be okay with it if they just sat there and talked about how terrible Starscream is instead.

"I'm actually here on official business. You've met Sky Lynx, right? Really tall guy? White, red, and blue? Turns into a spaceship animal thing?"

"I can blame them both." Hot Rod is generous like that. Open-minded. Kind. He has room in his spark for blame for both Starscream and Autobots alike, and no problem stamping them both with the jerk stamp.

"Sure, I've met the mech but -- /official business/?" Hot Rod draws back a little to give Whirl a once-over look of open and somewhat obnoxious surprise. "They are giving you real official business and that real official business means you have to come out here? I hope you're not going to try to arrest me because /that'd/ be awkward."

"Yeah, you figured it out. I'm here to arrest you." Whirl flexes his claws and looks like he's about to pull out a weapon but he pauses and starts laughing. "Ahahaha, nawwwww. Just kidding. It's quite the opposite really. Turns out Sky Lynx is totally into you and your motley crew of merry trouble makers. He wants me to be the Autobot's liasion between the two groups. Isn't that hilarious? I'm like an diplomat now or something, hahaha."

His optic flickers a bit and his tone becomes more serious as he continues. "That's only if you're down for it though. I'm going to be honest, they'll want me to give them updates every now and then about everything you guys are doing. Sky Lynx is hoping this will benefit both the Autobots AND your rebel group. Apparently he's really into what you guys are all about, but he wants to like.. steer you guys in a more civilized direction or something? I don't really know. He explained it to me but all I could think about while he was droning on and on was shooting myself in the head."

Hot Rod looks vaguely horrified. It's a put-on expression, and the smile beneath keeps slipping out at the edges. "Did you seriously just call yourself a diplomat. I knew things were fragged up, but that's pretty--." He breaks off and shakes his head. "Things must be pretty dire in Iacon."

Listening to Whirl more seriously than his words and manner would suggest, Hot Rod frowns just slightly. "He does talk kind of a lot, doesn't he," he says, his tone light. It's fairly obvious that he's still thinking it through, but thinking is HARD. "I thought it was some kind of psychological attack or something. Or maybe processor damage."

"I know, right? Me, a DIPLOMAT." Even Whirl thinks this is ridiculous. Sky Lynx is incredibly stupid or incredibly brilliant thinking up a plan like this. There's a visible shudder than runs through his frame as the subject turns to Sky Lynx's monologuing and how horrible it is. "It's straight up torture is what it is. The way he went on and on and how Prowl just sat there and watched like some kind of weirdo.. I swear to Primus, I thought I was undergoing some kind of experimental torture or something."

Whirl shakes off those terrible memories. "Look, I'm not gonna lie. I want to do this. I want to be able to come around here and be with people who actually 'get' me or at the very least get me enough that I can actually interact with them without wanting to kill them as soon as they start flapping their lips. I told you when I left that I wanted to be your 'inside guy' or whatever, this is a perfect way to do that without rousing suspicion because it will actually be my job to hang out with you. And, come on let's be real, you KNOW I'm not going to go spouting off all your secrets to the damn Autobots." He scoffs and snaps his claws. "Screw those guys!"

Grinning despite himself, Hot Rod says, "Yeah, true enough." Autobots suck. He leans toward Whirl, hands clasped and fingers tipped to point toward him. "But it's not you I don't trust, mech. It's them. Always."

Straightening, Hot Rod throws his hands wide in an exasperated gesture and says, "Look what they did to Shiftlock. Look what they did to Blurr. Look at everything they can do, have done, messing with people. I trust you Whirl, I do. I'm not going to say no, because if I say no, they send someone else, someone I /don't/ trust. But it's not going to be like it was and it can't be, because you could walk back there and they could pull everything out of your head without you even knowing." He drops back on his heels and lowers his hands. "We'll figure out something, though."

Yeah, that sounds about right. Whirl didn't really expect Hot Rod to let him back into the Acropolex to run around and do the same stuff he was doing before he sold his soul to Starscream and the Autobots but it's still really disappointing to hear for himself. Reality is so cruel. The mention of Shiftlock and Blurr (ugh, that guy) is just another slap in the not-face from reality, yet another reminder of how screwed up the Autobots are and what a bad decision he made.

"I understand. Who knows? That might be what they've been planning from the begining. Wouldn't put it past them." Whirl scratches at the back of his head and looks around. "So uh.. does Blast Off still do work for you guys? You seen him lately?"

"You said Prowl was there?" Apparently while Hot Rod might look slightly skeptical imagining Sky Lynx the architect of some sort of fiendish plan to send Whirl to spy all unwitting, HE WOULD TOTALLY BUY IT FROM PROWL. "Yeah. Could be." As Whirl oh-so-casually glances around, his expression flares into a brilliant grin that's more than a little smirkish. "Oh, that guy? Mmm, I can't remember. What'd you say his name was again? Bluster? Last Stop? HEY, GUYS, YOU SEEN ANYONE BY THAT NAME?" he shouts -- outright shouts -- back at the Acropolex. No one answers.

Funny that Blast Off would be mentioned. The shuttle arrived not long ago to deliver another cargo run to the rebels, then wound up having an encounter with Arcee where he finally learned the truth. Arcee was the one who posed as "Shutterfly" and played a pivotal role in landing him in jail, where he was mentally tortured by Feint and nearly had his spark ripped out by Pharma. Yeah, not good times... even for someone who doesn't mind a little pain... under the right circumstances.

As it is, it left him with a lot to think about. He stopped by a bar for a drink, which always helps thinking, right? Then as he prepared to leave, he has another thought- he should warn Hot Rod that Arcee is in the area, renovating a soccer arena. Or at least that's what she /said/ she was doing. Then again, she posed as a pretty femme interested in him and his life story, then sprung a trap on him. So yes- he'll at least give Hot Rod a heads-up. And so he makes his way towards the Acropolex.

<< Hot Rod, where are you? I have a warning for you. >>

Whirl's almost embarrassed glances around the area quickly turn to stares of annoyance as Hot Rod pretends he has no idea what he's talking about. He gives the other mech a frustrated huff. "Oh come on.. We're really playing this game? Okay, fine." Whirl takes a step back and throws his arms out dramatically. "BLAST OFF. I'M ASKING ABOUT BLAST OFF. YOU KNOW BLAST OFF, DONT YOU? TURNS INTO A SHUTTLE? HAUGHTY AS ALL HELL? HEY HOT ROD, YOU KNOW BLAST OFF, RIGHT?"

Hot Rod gives a guilty startle as Blast Off comms /right/ when he is making fun of his name. << Blast Off! Whose name I totally know, it's definitely Blast Off. >> That doesn't sound weird, right? << I'm at the Acropolex. >> He sends a location ping, but if Blast Off is already on his way to the Acropolex -- well, they are hard to miss. "Oh, that guy," he tells Whirl. "Yeah, I think he's actually going to be here like--" He looks up and waits hopefully for a dramatic entrance. Otherwise this is going to be an awkward pause.

Bluster... I mean Last Stop... I mean Bloviate.... I mean Blast Off pauses a moment as Hot Rod's radio transmission comes through. Huh? He tilts his head, wondering what that was all about. << Hot Rod.... what's going on? >> Great. Maybe the Autobots ARE infiltrating Acropolex already! Is Arcee there? This sounds like it could be a nefarious plot already underway. The shuttleformer frowns under his faceplate, trigger hand twitching as he rounds the corner where he will finally be in sight of the complex. He hears some strange shouts... familiar ones... wait, is that someone calling his name? Someone like....

Blast Off stops and stares at Whirl and Hot Rod. Staaares.

"Whirl."

Whirl crosses his arms and just STARES at Hot Rod, waiting for him to finish his sentence. "Like what? Like tomorrow? Like years from now?" He gestures at the other mech with his claws, "Is this some kind of joke? Come on! That's just mean. You're a bad person, Hot Rod. A bad person." And just as Whirl is about to list all the reasons just WHY Hot Rod is a bad person, he hears someone say his name from behind him. No, not just someone. It's..

Whirl turns around to face the Combaticon, his empurata belying the intense emotions he's feeling at the moment. "Blast Off."

"Way to take your time!" Hot Rod throws his arms up in an exasperated gesture. "Just a minute faster. Seriously, Blast Off, just a /minute/. Do you know how great that would've been? And then you just walk up. What's with that. No sense of dramatics. Starscream may be a rusted little glitch, but at least he understands how to make an entrance." So, 'hello'. This is how Hot Rod says hi.

Blast Off remains frozen. The last time he saw Whirl, the mech was being tormented abd carried off to Primus-knows-where by Starscream, even as the Seeker blackmailed the two of them to keep their relationship a secret. And oh... right. A secret. The shuttleformer is just considering how to approach that when Hot Rod interrupts. He glances towads the flame-bedecked mech. Then HUFFs and straightens up, looking mildly affronted. "I have IMPECCABLE timing. I heard my name being called,a nd then I APPEARED. It's simply being... /fashionably late/, that's all. Something us /High Castes/ have mastered." Haughty sniff.

Then he's back to staring at Whirl. The Combaticon takes a step forward. "Whirl, how have... how have you been? What happened? Did..." Then he catches himself. RIGHT. SECRET. AHEM. He stiffens up again, clenching a fist. "I MEAN, I hope you're ready to DIE, for we are MORTAL ENEMIES after all!" Then he stops. Wait, doesn't Hot Rod know about them anyway? Now he's staring at the racer. "I mean.... uh..."

It hasn't been THAT long since the Whirl last saw Blast Off but it sure as hell feels like it has. Especially since the last time they saw each other it was during some extremely bad circumstances, namely Starscream using him as bait and dangling him (LITERALLY) in front of Blast Off so he had fuel for his blackmailing schemes. Yeah, it was pretty terrible.

Whirl SIGHS at the shuttleformer as he begins to spew that 'mortal enemies' spiel usually reserved for their secret, late-night encounters. "Oh for the love of- Blast Off, shut your mouth for like five seconds and let me hug you, you jerk!" And he does just that; stepping forward and grabbing Blast Off into a tight squeeze, practically lifting him up off the ground in the process.

"Oh come on," Hot Rod scoffs as Blast Off starts up with the enemy thing. "Seriously? I walked in on you two all--." He breaks off and closes his eyes. He covers his face with his hand and vents hard as though he could purge the memory.

Dropping his hand to see Whirl swooping in on Blast Off, Hot Rod squawks a, "No reenactments!" In a more normal tone, he says, "Save the mortal enemies stuff for someone else, huh? Come on. Let's go inside before someone comes by to test that whole ready to die thing." Then he pivots to head in to the Acropolex, and maybe -- just /maybe/ -- give them a moment alone together.

Blast Off has had to pretend that he doesn't care about Whirl- that in fact he wants him dead- for so long that it gets confusing sometimes just WHO seems to know the real truth and who just suspects. But as soon as he goes into his reflexive spiel, he remembers that time in Acropolex and...oh yeah. This thought process is interrupted rather suddenly by Whirl sweeping the shuttleformer up into his arms.

Blast Off tenses for a moment, a little surprised.... and then OH SMELT IT ALL he doesn't CARE... he returns the embrace, wrapping Whirl's shoulders in a fiece hug and leaning his head forward to headbonk the cyclops. If only he wasn't wearing his faceplate, Whirl and Hot Rod could see the big grin on his face, but it may be /felt/ anyway. "Whirl." His voice breaks his usual aloofness and carries some of the longing and worry he's felt since that day with Starscream. "I am SO glad to see you. You look well!" Not horribly butchered by those terrible Autobot medics. He does spare a glance to Hot Rod, and gives the mech a nod. "..Uh.... yes. That... is probably wise."

It's really hard to believe that when Whirl and Blast Off first starting hanging out (if it could even be called that, it was more like them trying to shoot each other as often as possible,) Blast Off wouldn't even let the cyclops within a certain radius. Now he's not only letting himself get swept up into overly enthusiastic hugs, but he's also returning them unabashedly. "Ha ha, you care about me. You nerd." There's a very obvious pinch to Blast Off's backside, much to Hot Rod's chagrin surely.

"Pfft, yeah I guess we should go inside. Somewhere more private. And dark." He scoffs. "You know, to talk or.. whatever. What are you even doing here, anyway?"

"I SAW THAT," Hot Rod calls. He's a fool if he thinks calling Whirl out on bad behavior is going to make him stop, but then -- he /is/ a fool. Leading the way into the Acropolex's shadowed interior, he doesn't go all that far. The First Face -- the Autobot symbol -- hangs everywhere. If nothing, the Acropolex is a great hideout because who could /possibly/ believe that Hot Rod would /willingly/ surround himself with Autobot symbols. It's a perfect hiding spot. Waiting for Whirl and Blast Off to catch up, he takes a seat at the base of one of the statues in the Hall of Order. Some long forgotten nameless Prime looms above him. "You said you had a warning?"

Blast Off is still unabashedly grinning and hugging Whirl, swept up in the moment. Yeah, he does care, much as he'd deny it most of the time. That pinch to his backside elecits a pleased engine rumble in response. Whirl's suggestions sound good to him, and Hot Rod is right, so reluctantly the shuttleformer pulls himself away. "Yes. Well... making some deliveries." He sighs a bit. "NOT the most glamorous job, but... I get paid at least."

He follows along after Hot Rod. Oh, so this is what it's like to enter the Acroploex when you're not SNEAKING in. The First Faces cause a disgruntled stare, however. "I must say, you have a lousy taste in interior decoration." Hot Rod's comment pulls his focus back to that warning, however. "Ah. Yes." His optic ridges furrow down. "I just encountered Arcee not THAT far from here- here in the Rust Narrows. She appears to be rebuilding a soccer stadium. To "help the people" she said." He appears to frown. "...I also found out that she is the one responsible for trapping me under false pretenses... and leading to my recent imprisonment." His voice catches a little smattering of ice particles. "....She cannot be trusted."

Whirl also follows Hot Rod inside, the faces that line the walls even more unsettling now that he wears one on his chest. It's like they're all watching him, silently judging him.. taunting him. He catches himself staring at them and quickly turns his gaze elsewhere. "I forgot how creepy this place was."

He becomes unusually quiet when Arcee's name comes up, even more so when Blast Off goes on about her involvement with his imprisonment and how she can't be trusted. This is conflicting for Whirl as just a few cycles ago he and Arcee had a little chat that resulted in Whirl seeing the femme as an unlikely ally in his struggle with the Autobots. She shared similar opinions and it made him feel.. less crazy.

"She sounds terrible," Whirl lies. So smooth.

"That's -- weird." Hot Rod hesitates, not as willing as Blast Off to assume that Arcee's reasons are so terrible. But then, their history is rather different. "I'll talk to her. Find out what's going on. She's always played pretty straight with me, though. She often really does want to help, she's just -- surrounded by some bad people." Like Prowl. MAN WHAT A JERK.

Looking around the entryway, Hot Rod says, "Well, it's a good place to hide then, right? No one's going to want to come in here. I'll need to talk to the others about you coming around again, Whirl," he says, jumping down from his seat. "Make sure no one tries to shoot you or anything."

Blast Off /is/ biased now. He feels betrayed by Arcee- but he has valid reasons for that. Still, he's not seeking revenge... he is more... disappointed than anything. She had been a friend, once. But that's what the recent political divisions are doing- tearing friends apart. Blast Off glances to Whirl, and fervently hopes, despite all reasonable expectations... that that will enver happen to them. "Yes. You might encounter her, as well... don't let her fool you." He looks at Hot Rod. "Same to you- if she's under orders, she'll follow them- even if it means betraying her friends." There. That said, he shrugs.

The Combaticon nods to Rod as he begins to leave. "...Thank you for allowing me access again." He'll try not to do anything embarrassing here this time. Then he focuses back on Whirl. "...So. How have you been? What ARE you doing here? I thought you were... otherwise indisposed?"

Moonlight enters from the Acropolex.

"Oh, I'm sure people will still try to shoot me," Whirl says with.. is that /pride?/ "I just sort of attract that kind of attention, you know?" He tries to wink but he is physically incapable of such a feat so he just stares instead.

When Hot Rod leaves, Whirl turns his full attention back to Blast Off, that stare becoming more intense. He leans in close, what counts as his forehead gently bonking against the Combaticon's. "Oh yeah, all of THAT. It's a long story, I don't really feel like talking about it right now." A claw is raised to Blast Off's face, the tip dragging along the edges of the faceplate that hides most of it. "How are YOU doing? Getting into more trouble, I'm sure. Had your spark almost ripped out by any monsters lately?"

Blast Off finds himself grinning under his faceplate again. "Yes... yes you do. It's what drew me to you, I suppose..." He says fondly. Leaning into the headbonk, he is still enjoying being close to Whirl. He's usually so aloof- but with Whirl he just wants to be as close as possible right now. He places his hand on Whirl's claw as it traces down his jawline, enjoying the sensation. "Alright. As long as you are Ok." The mention of monsters gets a slightly fluestered pause. "Uh.... well... not THAT recently. Well..." He blinks. "Ok, there was that Primordial, but... well, I am here now, at least. And then Sky Lynx...but... well, like I said, I'm here now at least. It's been... a week. But the worst part was... not knowing where you were."

"Just be glad that all he did was try to kill you. I'd rather die than have to listen to him talk. Seriously. It's.. it's terrible." Whirl knows he's going to have nightmares about Sky Lynx's endless stream of words for as long as he lives. Hopefully he can make all his reports through text so he doesn't have to talk to him personally.

"It's only been a week, eh?" Whirl's optic flashes and suddenly he lunges forwards to pin Blast Off against one of the terrifying, face-ridden walls in the room. "It feels so much longer, doesn't it? It always feels longer than it really is." The not-face of his finds itself buried against the side of the shuttleformer's neck, the cyclops' engines starting to rumble noisily inside of him. "But I'm here now." Claws begin to trace along the seams in Blast Off's armor, threatening to slip inside and wreak havoc on his sensors. "So now what?"

Now what indeed? It may be hard to say what Blast Off's answer would have been, if the sound of mumbled singing wasn't heard form somewhere within the Acroplex. Gradually the sound gets louder until Moonlight enters the room. She halts mid-phrase when she spots the pair of mechs. "Whoa, hey now!" she exclaims in mild surprise. "I'm not sure if I should be chastizing the pair of you...or applauding," she says with a full laugh.

Blast Off hufffs. No, I got the FULL brunt. FIRST I had to listen to him bloviate on Global Braodcast, THEN he went all bestial on me, despite his assertions of being a \*sophisticated shuttle\*. He gives the GOOD shuttles a BAD name, I tell you!" Yes, because Blast Off is the model of propriety and modesty. Whatever else he was going to say gets interrupted by Whirl shoving him against a wall. Oh my~. The shuttleformer revs his engines in response, gripping the cyclops's head with his hands and then beginning to move those hands downward as well. "Hmm... well, I think we're alone. I think..." There's another engine rev, and his hand pinches one of Whirl's claws. "I can think of a great deal MANY things we could do...~"

And then suddenly they ARE NOT ALONE. The shuttle freezes, staring at Moonlight awkwardly. "Uh.... this isn't what it seems like!" Yeah, that line worked so well before.

Whirl has no objections to popping open Blast Off's interface panel right then and there, Primus knows he wants to. He wants to SO BAD. In fact, the pinch the shuttleformer gives his claws just eggs him on, claws now rising and reaching towards the panel in question..

But then SOMEONE interrupts them and.. Whirl can't really be too mad, it's not like they're in a personal room or anything right now; it is sort of a public area and this happens sometimes. Part of the fun, he'd say.

Whirl turns his head to stare at Moonlight though he keeps himself in the same state he was when she walked in on them, all up on the other mech. "It's exactly what it looks like," he states dryly.

Moonlight pushes her hat back slightly on her head and then folds her arms across her chest, giving Blast Off the 'yeah right!' look. "Well, it /seems/ like one of two things," she states. "Either you're about to get really friendly, or really hostile. I'd only applaud you for one of those things," she says with a grin. "Take a guess which one; shouldn't be too hard." She leans against a nearby wall, though not close enough to be encroaching on their space. "I've seen the two of you before. Heard some of the chatter over the general frequency. Here's a hint: at least half the planet isn't buying it." She laughs again. "It's cute that you're trying though; I'll give you an A for effort."

Then Whirl decides to be honest. Why not? Another fit of laughter comes from the femme. "I like your style. I'm not an enemy to either of you, so there's no sense in being all bashful about it. Especially since you two were the ones who decided that you couldn't wait long enough to find someplace more private. But hey, I'm the last person to tell a pair where they can or can't get a bit friendly with each other." And she winks.

Blast Off is finding himself torn now... his natural desire to appear \*sophisticated and classy\* clashes with the fact that he /wants/ this attention from Whirl, too, and it's not like it doesn't feel good... But still...OMP. Someone staring at them. He makes a weak effort to wrest himself away, but it's a little hard with Whirl up on him like he is... and his lackluster efforts at actually getting away don't help either. And so he remains, though Whirl's comment DOES draw a slightly more spirited protest.

"WHIRL. How do we know she won't go gossip?" Pause. "I mean... not that I'm admitting that there is anything TO gossip about." He states to Moonlight. "It's not friendly, it's.... hostility. We're fighting. See?" He scratches at Whirl's shoulder armor plates, digging in with a \*growl\* that totally isn't just for show. No, not at all.

Whirl is digging Moonlight's open-mindedness right now, it sure is a nice contrast to Hot Rod's reactions to their displays of affection. He'd grin but.. yeah, no mouth, so he just levels an emotionless stare at the femme. "Yeah, I remember you. We met briefly, I didn't realize you were with the Nyon rebels now. I was too, but I think that was before you joined up." Whirl finally moves away from Blast Off, just enough to expose the Autobot badge plastered on his chest.

Blast Off's scratching and growl (which is more ADORABLE than threatening) doesn't elicit the howl of agony he may have been hoping for, instead Whirl lets out a groan that does not suggest pain in the slightest. "Oh yeah, do that again."

"What's it worth to you for me to keep my mouth shut?" Moonlight asks Blast Off, since he's the one who seems so concerned. But the tone of her voice and her expression are jovial rather than serious. "Seriously, though, just the smallest token and I'll consider it a part of professional pride to be quiet." Her optics are glinting with amusement. "As a pointer, though, it is known that /some/ people like it rough. If you guys want to be more convincing, you have to act completely disinterested in each other. After all, hate is it's own form of passion."

She makes an off-hand gesture to Whirl, which means she's not folding her arms anymore. The blades on her back shift slightly. "Yeah, I'm a pretty recent addition," she admits. "Hot Rod's reckless charm has a certain appeal. That and there's a lot of really messed up people on your side," she notes, pointing to the Autobot symbol. "I'm pretty sure it was you Hot Rod was talking about when he said he doubted I would be any more inappropriate than the last guy who left his ranks." She shrugs her shoulders at this.

Blast Off looks from Whirl to Moonlight, just trying to ignore it when that hated Autobot badge comes back in sight, plastered on Whirl's chest. To Moonlight he asks, "Oh... did we meet before? That... bar, right? You're.... one of the rebels now?" Whirl's groan just makes the shuttle's cooling fans kick in before he shuts them off again and his armor plates bristle in embarrassment as he glances away. He doesn't respond, save with a flustered HUFFFFF.

Focusing back on Moonlight, his optics narrow at her mention of a \*token\*, and he's not sure if she's joking or not. "What kind of... token?" Then she mentions how some people like it rough, and his flustered demeanor returns. "I...well, no, you see...I... WE are FIGHTING. Really... really... mortal enemies. And... things." His voice trails off. Yeah, even he realizes this isn't that convincing now. "Ok, FINE. I just thought that HERE, in the privacy of this...this PLACE... that ...I don't know, rebels should... stick together, shouldn't they?" Like he's one of them. Or Whirl is, for that matter.

"Oh, please! Hot Rod is prone is exaggeration," Whirl says, waving a dismissive claw at Moonlight. "Im not THAT inapproproiate." He thinks for a moment, suddenly remembering that time Hot Rod stumbled upon him and Blast Off after a night of drunken interfacing and.. "Okay, maybe I am. But just a little!"

In the midst of Blast Off's flustered reaction and determination to deny everything, Whirl can't help but reach over and give him another pinch. "Very convincing, Blast Off."

Moonlight chuckles at this. "Well, anything really. Doesn't matter what it is; just have to say I got something in payment. You know, to make it official," she says to Blast Off. "And really, there's nothing wrong with what you're doing; the only problem is getting caught. In here it might not matter so much, but some people are kinda prudish." She shrugs. "It's nothing new though; every race I've come across has folks that flaunt it, and folks that don't." She leans forward slightly. "So, are you protesting because you should be enemies? Or are you protesting because you got caught getting up close and /personal/ with anyone?"

She shakes her head at Whirl. "Doesn't matter either way. If you're terribly inappropriate then that just makes anything I do less so, which means I can get away with almost anything and not worry about it," she states easily. "Besides, it's dull to be ALWAYS appropriate."

Blast Off lifts an optic ridge at Whirl, and says quietly, "You're an /exhibitionist/..." However, he doesn't really sound like he thinks that's a BAD thing, not really. No, suddenly he's thinking starlit benches and... and then Whirl pinches him again and he HUFFs at that- yet his cooling fans whir to life once more, all on their own. Not giving anything away there, nope. Slag it all.

Moonlight garners another, softer huff, too, and the shuttleformer looks a little lost. "I... don't have much on me, unless... you accept token amounts of shanix." There's a pause. "Of COURSE, I have PLENTY more...elsewhere. I just... don't have it on me NOW." That, or he doesn't like admitting how broke he is these days.

The rest of her comments about /why is he protesting/ cause him to glance away at a random spot on the wall. ".... Neither! Absolutely none of the above." Pause. "Or... well, OK, maybe ...just a bit of the first one. Or... maybe..." Another pause. "...Both."

Moonlight shakes her head a bit as she gives Blast Off a long look. "Listen, either you're going to give up doing this 'cause it's dangerous, or you're not. If you're not, you might as well relax and enjoy the ride while you can," she says easily. "Because getting all tense about it isn't going to make it /less/ likely that the wrong people will discover it." She shifts slightly so that one foot is against the wall behind her while the other is sticking outwards against the floor. "So you have to ask youself, is continuing with this worth the risk, or not?" Then she smiles. "Oh, a couple of Shanix would be enough. Bottle of engex. Anything really, as long as it has /some/ use or worth."

Blast Off takes this in, violet optics looking thoughtful despite himself. There's a long silence before he responds, one hand sort of reflexively flexing while the other continues touching whatever part of Whirl remains nearby. He's conflicted. He also knows she's right... at least to some degree. "...I suppose. It IS dangerous, but..." His optics flash with more determination. "I will NOT live in fear, and I will NOT allow others to tell me how to live my life. I make my own decisions, I will not have others dictate my life to me." He then gives Moonlight a bit of a sideways glance, pulling out a few shanix from subspace and tossing them to her with a grumble.

Moonlight catches the Shanix with a grin. Tucking them away, she fishes out a bottle of wine and puts it on the ground beside her. "If you're not going to live in fear, then /do/ that. Stop sputtering and denying in front of people who aren't a threat." She shakes her head. "Use that defiance instead of denial. Unless it's against people who are going to shoot you for it. I'm not one of them." She puts a hand on her chest. "Your secret is safe with me."

Blast Off straightens a little, allowing his arms to drop away from Whirl and focus on Moonlight completely- for now. "Well, yes. And there are some who WOULD shoot me for it." Or blackmail him. He rolls a shoulder. "Ah, I am quite self-assured. I will deal with them if the time comes." he hopes. "I am a space shuttle- a member of the most elite class." (Or was.) "I have certain... standards I adhere to, and one is to follow my own processor.... not to be led like a turbo-sheep." Blast Off stops to eye that wine. "...What brand is that?" He asks.

"Something off world, but that might just be to your taste," Moonlight says. "Let's just say that it's a gift that is totally unrelated to the shanix, which is, of course, a payment." She winks. Blast Off isn't the only one who can play the denial game, but it's obvious that Moonlight doesn't expect to be believed in this case. "I'm not the best example of someone who follows the rules either, but it has nothing to do with caste, since I lived most of my life without that little annoyance." She flicks a hand to show her dismissal of such things. "As for sheep, well, they seem to like to be led. I guess you're more of a wolf, hm?"

"Oh yeah, he's a wolf alright. So fierce and mysterious," Whirl says after a disturbingly long silence. He was just too busy watching that conversation play out, interested in hearing Blast Off's unfiltered answers when faced with questions from an unrelated third party, someone who didn't already know about their weird and slightly (okay, really) dangerous relationship.

"Ohhhh hells yeah, is that wine?" Whirl bends down to scoop the bottle up in his claws, holding it up for both him and Blast Off to admire. "Let's pop this open and get to it, it's been a while since I had a good drink."

Blast Off lifts an optic ridge at Moonlight. "Off world?" He can't quite keep the excitement out of his voice. Anything offworld, anything that reminds him of home- and space is home- makes him yearn for the good old days- before the hated Clampdown. He takes a step towards that bottle of wine. "It... probably is to my taste. Where did you GET some? It's so difficult to get out there- UP there, and..." Then she mentions wolves and sheep. he straightens, looks self-important. "Why yes, of course I'm a wolf. Part of a Combaticon...pack, if you will, and we are..."

He's suddenly interrupted by Whirl and he turns to watch as the cyclops walks over and grabs the bottle of wine- and he sort of stares. "Yes...wait, since when do you like wine?"

"When I came here I had a lot of cargo," Moonlight says easily. "The folks over at Iacon decided to take some of the more 'iffy' weaponry, but I was allowed to keep all my legit cargo and some of the less legit stuff as well," she says. Then she gives Whirl an odd look. "This might not be the most delicate question, but how do you drink with no mouth?" She really wants to know.

Whirl meets Blast Off's stare with one of his own. That's a very good question, actually. Normally Whirl just drinks anything he can get his claws on, regardless of whether it was fancy wine or something brewed up in someone's basement but here he is, getting excited over some wine he's never even heard of. "I uh... I don't know. There's a lot of things I've suddenly found interest in that I didn't before." His optic flickers. "I blame you."

He hands the bottle to Blast Off and turns his gaze onto Moonlight. "No, it's not the most delicate question but it's also not one I get a lot. Usually I have a whole rig I carry around with me with I.V leads so I can literally siphon it directly into my tank but.." He taps a panel the lays in the spot where his neck meets his torso. "Since I have access to proper medical care, I had a shunt installed that lets me skip the part where I have to shove tubes into my body. Still inconvenient but eh, it's nice to get overenergized, isn't it?"

Blast Off stifles a bit of jealousy at Moonlight's recent space travels. Also-waitaminute- SPACE TRAVELS? "You've been... out there recently? Where have you been? Don't tell me you're stuck here now, too." Just like Swift Blade was, not that he regrets that fact entirely.

Then Whirl talks of new interests and /blame/ and Blast Off HUFFFs at him. "Well! I just... I just... probably am rubbing off on you, is all. It's my magnificent dispaly of culture and class. Would rub off on /anyone/." Then he just staaaares at Whirl. Bceause he totally hasn't gotten that from him. "ANYWAY. I don't know, I guess we're... rubbing off on each other these days. It's... just what happens when people keep company, I.. suppose." Not that he really knows. "Though... if that's true, then I should probably try solving more problems with my fist, ala Brawl, but... I think that is simply my superior intellect and sense of refinement at work. Shame he's never picked up on MY habits."

Blast Off accepts the wine bottle, listening to Whirl explain how he drinks. It's sobering to hear, though he's glad that there are some recent improvements for the cyclops. He gazes at the mech's neck. "I... really do wish you could... experience it like most people get to, but I am glad you are still able to enjoy a good drink. And yes, it is. Sometimes one really NEEDS a good drink." He then perks up again. "Like now! You've returned here, I'd say it's worthy of celebration, and..." he looks to Moonlight, "..and we appear to have good company. ...What was your name again?" He opens the bottle and brings out some glasses from a nearby pantry.

"Especially when you live on a backwater like Cybertron," Moonlight agrees. "This place would drive anyone to drinking," she says. "Good think I was already fond of the stuff before I got here." And she laughs at that one. "Yeah, that sounds like quite the hassle. At least it's easier for you now, and it sounds like you could sure use it."

She nods her head to Blast Off. "Yeah, I'm stuck here, but on purpose. This place is so messed up that a lot of people avoid it. That includes the toughs that were after me." She shrugs her shoulders. Then she sweeps off her hat, holds it to her chest, and bows. "It's Moonlight. Don't forget it." And she winks. "But if you two fellows want to get back to it...by all means. Don't let me be a third cog messing things up."

Whirl just STARES at Moonlight in response to that last comment. "Do you.. do you want to watch?"

HEY, Hot Rod did say he was inappropriate as heck.

Blast Off sighs to Moonlight, "Tell me about it. I /hate/ being stuck here. I should be up THERE." He glances skywards. "The Clampdown keeps me grounded ...but I will return someday." He gives a polite inclination of his head as she speaks her name. "Ah. Moonlight. I am Blast Off, and I..." Whatever smooth and totally suave thing he was about to say gets cut short by her last sentence- and then Whirl's response.

He goes back to staring... first at her, then at Whirl... then back and forth. Then he stiffens, hands flexing on either side of him. "NO. No she DOESN'T Whirl. I am CERTAIN she most definitely DOES NOT want to WATCH." Pause. "ANYWAY. Watch WHAT. There si NOTHING to WATCH in the FIRST PLACE!" Yes, the shuttle is flustered now.

Moonlight puts her hat back on her head, adjusting it just so that one of her optics is obscured. The other glints brightly. "Doesn't bother me one way or the other, but I think your paramour isn't too keen on the notion," she says to Whirl with a wide grin, pointing to Blast Off. His reactions leave little doubt on the matter.

"Good luck getting back into the sky, though I wouldn't mind if the Clampdown stays long enough to really dissuade those toughs from ever finding me. But if worse comes to worse, I can always go on the run again," she says with a little sigh. "But I have some literature and news-pads from various planets if you're starved for news from the outside universe," she offers to Blast Off.

"Hey! Don't get mad at me!" Whirl says, throwing his arms up in the air. "She's the one telling us it's totally cool to pick up where we left off, it would be rude of us to reject her GENEROUS offer." Moonlight continues and he gestures at her, almost exasperatedly. "SEE?"

Eventually Whirl gives up and sighs. "Fiiiiiine, since you're so opposed to the idea I GUESS we can make up for lost time later."

Blast Off goes back to staring at Moonlight- though this time it's less from horror and more from wistful longing. "You do?" he takes a step towards her in barely-contained interest. "You have... literature from offworld? News? What's happeneing out there? Did Luna IV ever take care of their little ..internal problem, or- Oh! What about the Omega Galaxy? Last I heard they were setting up an entire /planet/ for cultural pursuits! And.." he suddenly stops, remembering himself, and straightens. Ahem. The more aloof look returns, or tries to, and he gazes oh-so-boredly at his hand. "Well, I mean... if you have a spare or two, that is. No rush." He does cast one glance her way to ask, "...What toughs were following you?"

Then Whirl tries to convince him to interface RIGHT THEN and THERE, and while Whirl is indeed rubbing off on Blast Off these days, he has apparently not rubbed off to THAT extent. "WHAT. This is NOT the place..." Finally Whirl relents, and Blast Off looks mostly relieved. ...Mostly. There's a glance to those claws then... \*ahem\* again. "Yes... later." He thinks about that. "Do you... have a place here again, then?"

Moonlight shrugs her shoulders. "I was offering to leave actually so you could continue. I don't have any particular /need/ to be right here in this room. Though, maybe another room would be a better idea for you guys. I can always go sit around in my ship."

Turning slightly she faces Blast Off. "They were hired thugs, the kind that won't say who hired them. Could be any number of folks. Being a smuggler isn't the /safest/ job in the 'verse." Then she laughs softly. "Sure, I'll get you some of the stuff. Where should I bring it to that won't get you in trouble?" She winks.

"A room here? Uh.." Whirl scratches at the back of his head. Guess it's time to tell Blast Off why he's here. "I.. don't, actually. This is my first time here since I left. I uh.. I'm actually here on Autobot business. Sky Lynx-" Oh wait, didn't Sky Lynx almost kill Blast Off? This is so complicated. "-Wants me to be the Autobot's official liasion between them and Hot Rod and his rebels. So.. no, I don't."

Blast Off blinks. "Well... yes, maybe we should go find a ... private place to ...uh...." He lets his voice trail off, rather than finish the sentence. At the mention of thugs, he nods. "Ah. The same sort that came after me once, right over the planet's orbit... tried to kill me, too. I killed one in self-defense, and the other hasn't gotten over it yet." Loser, sheesh. "A smuggler? That must be an interesting profession, a little like a mercenary." Which he's been from time to time.

Whirl gets a look. "You're here because of SKY LYNX?!" Yes, that is the guy who nearly tore him in two. "That... that pretencious, insufferable, snooty snob who boasts about being refined while actually acting like a boorish brute?" Because that description would never, ever apply to Blast Off at all. "And you're here as WHAT??!! Surely the only reason the Autobots want you here is to spy on the rebels?" He stares at Whirl. "You're NOT going to do that, right?" Not that he's entirely sure if Whirl will have a choice ultimately. His optics ridges furrow down. "Did you... ever see that Autobot medic that..uh, /you know who/ wanted you to see?"

Moonlight laughs at this. "Oh, this is interesting stuff. Could write a novel on it," she says, slapping one of her thighs. "Well, if that's the issue you could always use my ship; it's not doing much but sitting there as a personal storage at the moment," she muses.

"Yeah, a smuggler's a lot like a mercanary, except we move illegal things instead of fighting people. I can get by the odd fight or so, but I'm hardly a warrior." Then Blast Off gets a bit crazy with the exclaimation points. She has trouble not laughing because Blast Off's description sounds like it could apply to himself. "Hey, better here as a diplomat than otherwise. Might mean that they're not sending more heavies after Hot Rod and his cohorts, which would include me. I'm not looking to get into more fights."

Whirl's optic flickers and it's obvious by the way he avoids making optic-contact with Blast Off that he's feeling some shame in all of this. "Well, I mean.. coming here and talking to Hot Rod was my first mission so.. yes?"

Blast Off raises an optic ridge at Moonlight's comment on her ship, letting out a slight huff. "I don't NEED a ship, I AM one. I just NEED not to get shot down while trying to break out of orbit- or reenter it." There's a pause. "I don't suppose... you have any cloaking devices, do you?" Not that he'd be likely to be able to afford one even if she DID, but... he asks anyway. He then relents a tiny bit on the matter of diplomats. "Yes... I suppose that's true. Maybe they've decided to try capturing more turbo-flies with enerhoney than with vinegar. But still... they're Autobots, I don't trust them at all."

That leads to an awkward silence as he realizes Whirl is an Autobot, technically. "I..uh, except you, of course Whirl. I just... don't trust the people you work for." Whirl's look of shame is noticed, and then Blast Off actually feels kind of bad. He sighs, shoudlers dropping a little as he relaxes a bit. "I... am sure you'll do your best to... navigate this situation." He pauses. "But you didn't answer my question- have you seen that medic?" In the back of his mind he's worried Whirl might already have been brain-hacked.

"I meant for private time, Blast Off," Moonlight says. "Cloaking? Let me think. I might have sold it on my way over here for something." She tilts her head to the side. "Well, the government is a pretty crappy one, but I'm pretty sure there's just a lot of people in the lower ranks that don't have much say in what they're doing." She blinks. "What medic would that be?"

Whirl gives Blast Off a half-hearted shrug. "Yeah, I'm trying to navigate it as best as I possibly can." In all honesty, Whirl thinks the whole thing is a stupid idea and putting him in charge of it is even stupider. Do they really think he's sympathetic to the Autobot cause enough to give them real information? "We'll see what happens."

But Blast Off just wont stop asking him about Pharma and Whirl doesn't think he can dodge the question forever so he SIGHS and relents. "...Okay, fine. I saw him. BRIEFLY. As in I happened to see him walking down the hall at one point. Apparently he's crazy busy and one of the other medics fixed me up." There's another sigh and he starts rubbing at the side of his head. "...One of the nurses tending my wounds told me I shouldn't be so rough when I interface. Said the cable was THIS close to just snapping right off." Of course, interfacing isn't AT ALL what happened but he and Blast Off already know this.

"OH." Oops, Blast Off missed that part. "I... see." Now he looks a little flustered again, though it passes. "Yes, well- if you ever find a cloaking device, let me know. And indeed- the government is causing a LOT of people to rise up and say enough is enough." The shuttle then sighs and looks at Whirl, and for once his expression isn't the standard haughtier-than-thou look, or aloofness, or judgemental, or any of the usual ones. It's a look of genuine concern and sympathy. He doesn't understand Whirl's reasons for joining the Autobots... not entirely, but he does get /some/ of it and, unlike Arcee, his trust hasn't been shattered yet. He just really... wants the cyclops to be okay, and he knows he's on a difficult road right now. Much like Blast Off himself is. "...Yes. I'm... sure you'll do fine."

The mention of the medic gets a nod. "I see. Good, then they didn't do anything... untoward to you." Whew. That \*whew\* lasts until Whirl mentions the interface cable and- OW. Like really, ow. Blast Off winces, looking a bit ill as he remembers what happened. "Uh... yes.. that really got... out of hand fast, didn't it?" Pause. "Is it..." He glances askew and asks very quietly, "Is it... better now?"

Moonlight winces as the mention of the cable. "What were you doing?" Last she checked even rough interfacing wasn't likely to have that effect, unless one does nothing BUT interface. Which, even for the most promiscuous of people, isn't likely.

She nods to Blast Off. "I'll rumage around and have a look see. I know we had one at some point; I just don't know if it's still on there. I was going for speed more than stealth when heading here." She rubs the back of her neck. "Anyhow, the execution of all those cute little YX cleaners was when I put my foot down and said 'no more'. That's just all sorts of wrong. I mean, people fighting it out is going to happen, but you can't just tell thousands of people that they don't have a right to exist anymore." She clenches her fists a bit.

Oh right, Moonlight isn't privy to what transpired those cycles ago with Blast Off and Starscream and the whole 'almost getting his interface panel ripped out' thing. This will be a fun story. "You know Starscream? The so-called ruler of Vos? Even though he's never there.. Anyway, apparently he finds me VERY attractive and, confused about his feelings for me, went crazy and tried to rip my cable out." Yes, that's exactly what happened.

He leans in towards Blast Off but speaks just as loudly as he was before. "It should be! I was hoping you and I could give it a test run at some point."

Blast Off stares at Moonlight, wondering how to explain this to her... but then Whirl does it for him, so he doesn't have to. Thank Primus. ...Kind of. Then she mentions YX cleaners. "Oh?" he tilts his head. "I think I heard something about that... are they sentient?" He's not sounding judgemental- no, he's seen far too much in Kaon to know everything is as clear-cut as he used to think it was.

He ponders that response to Starscream, though. "Yes... speaking of which- he uh, hasn't tried... bothering you again has he?" He adds, "I haven't seen him lately myself, nor do I want to." He glances to Moonlight. "Be cautious if you ever meet him." Then Whirl leans in and answers his earlier question- loudly, drawing a \*huff\* from the shuttle... but that flustered indignation it doesn't prevent that same shuttle leaning in and answering anyway. "....That sounds like a plan to me.~"

Moonlight makes a face. "Um, wow. He seemed a bit smoother than all that," she says, though she says it blandly enough that it's unsure if she buys Whirl's line. Yeah, she's met Starscream. He was...interesting. "I've met the guy twice, I think. Definitely not in the modest camp. But I don't like the modest camp, so that's no problem." As for Whirl's aside to Blast Off, well, she doesn't even look mildly embarassed. No, she just grins instead.

She nods her head to Blast Off. "Oh, they definitely were. You have to be sentient to show fear and sorrow, and these poor little guys lost most of their co-workers. It's rather disgusting, and it takes a lot to disgust me." Then she laughs softly. "But if you two want your alone time, I can always get this old chassis of mine out of your way."

Starscream is incredibly smooth. Dangerously so. If he wasn't, he wouldn't have been able to lure Whirl into his traps over and over and over again. It probably doesn't help that he's SORT OF attractive and he can fly and he has a way of playing towards your insecurities that makes him irresitable and-

Whirl shakes his head, trying to rid himself of those extremely inappropriate and unsettling thoughts. "I'm not your supervisor so I can't tell you what to do, but if you DO decide to hang out with Starscream just remember to be super fraggin' careful, okay? The games he plays are deadly serious."

The cyclops snakes an arm around Blast Off's waist and draws him close as he continues to speak to Moonlight. "Heheh, I don't mind an audience."

Starscream? Smooth? More like annoying, but Blast Off is biased. And arrogant. "He thinks he's really smart, but... he'll trip one of these days," the shuttle mutters. Of course he really shouldn't talk about his superior officer that way, but...again, he is arrogant. Then he shakes his head concerning the YX bots. "Ah, I see. Then it is a shame. Perhaps they will rise up in protests as well?" Then she mentions "alone time", and he straightens. "Well, uh..." Then he's being pulled in by Whirl, finding himself pressed against the other mech's side. He resists just a tiny bit, but by the time he's gazing up at the taller mech he seems to look pretty content. Until Whirl speaks about audiences, and his optics widen again. "Now... wait just a minute! I have a reputation to keep! I'm a classy space shuttle! I am a gentlemech! I...." His voice puts up a proper protest, but his body remains leaning against Whirl's.

"I'm a smuggler; we're both very cautious and very reckless at the same time. Kinda oxymoronic if you ask me." Then Moonlight nods her head. "But I'll take the caution under advisement, especially since you don't seem the cautious sort yourself. That just makes it more serious, not less." Then she grins, not liking seriousness too much, "I know /you/ don't mind. But I think your partner does."

She just has to laugh at Blast Off. "Well, I think I'll scram then. Ta-ta," and she turns as if to go so that Blast Off can relax a little and not spend the whole time sputtering at her instead of enjoying himself.

"I'm a smuggler; we're both very cautious and very reckless at the same time. Kinda oxymoronic if you ask me." Then Moonlight nods her head. "But I'll take the caution under advisement, especially since you don't seem the cautious sort yourself. That just makes it more serious, not less." Then she grins, not liking seriousness too much, "I know /you/ don't mind. But I think your partner does."

She just has to laugh at Blast Off. "Well, I think I'll scram then. Ta-ta," and she turns as if to go so that Blast Off can relax a little and not spend the whole time sputtering at her instead of enjoying himself.

"Ohh yes, you are just the epitome of class, aren't you Blast Off? The supreme gentlemech, Primus' gift to all of us uncultured swine," Whirl teases, peering down at the Combaticon through that single, yellow optic. He looks back at Moonlight only for her to decide now is the best time to take her leave and he shrugs. "Alright, take it easy. I'm sure we'll be bumping into each other again."

Once Moonlight is gone, Whirl spins around and shoves Blast Off against that same wall again, essentially putting them right back in the same positions they were when Moonlight first walked in. "Alright, where were we?"

Blast Off looks up, not sure what to make of all that. Part of the egotistical shuttle thinks that why, yes, that is /exactly right/, he is! He could just about preen to the words. "Well...yes, I do always try to set a good example, and I..." Then there's that other part, that niggling doubt that hints that...oh yeah, people use this thing called /sarcasm/ sometimes.

Now he's just confused again, and pauses a moment- before Whirl shoves him against the wall again and makes all the previous doubts fly straight out of his mind. Oh my~. The shuttleformer grins under his faceplate, snaking an arm up to grasp one of Whirl's rotors- and give it a pinch. "I don't know... I think you'll have to /show me/..."

Whirl chokes past the gasp that is dying to leave his vocalizer when Blast Off delivers that pinch to his rotors. It really shouldn't feel as good as it does (why are his rotors so sensitive!?) but he can't really complain too much. Claws drag up the length of the shuttleformer's body, finally settling upon either side of the other mech's face. "Hnn, alright. I think we were at this part here." He moves to remove Blast Off's faceplate, his movements surprisingly slow and gentle which is SO unlike how he normally operates.

Blast Off grins under his faceplate as he gains that quite satisfying reaction from the rotary. Then he has his own reaction to give as those claws, those wonderful, marvelous claws~, drag up his body, sending a shuddder that has nothing to do with revulsion. It seems like it's been so long.... He relaxes as those claws come to rest on either side of his face. It's a position many others might feel awkward or frightened to find themselves in, but to Blast Off it just feels oh so right. He allows Whirl to remove his faceplate, latches clicking to release the metal and reveal the face underneath- a face that greets the cyclops with a cocky grin. And Whirl's slow movements are met with equally slow, gentle movements as the shuttleformer brings his hands to grasp Whirl's claws even as those claws grasp him... and squeeze both claws at once. "Yes, that's right... and then I think I did this..." He leans in for a kiss right above the copter's optic.

Whirl still thinks Blast Off's insistance on wearing that faceplate is stupid and unnecessary but he's decided that it's okay in some situations, namely ones like this where it's removal is a sort of exciting lead-in to their more intimate interactions. The kiss Blast Off gives him is a nice gesture and Whirl both appreciates and enjoys it, but he reeaaaallllyyy wishes he still had his face; it would make kissing so much better and also physically possible from Whirl's side of things. "Blast Off, do you remember what you said to me the last time we saw each other, right before Starscream swooped in and dragged me away?"

Blast Off does regret that Whirl doesn't have a face and hands... sometimes. He would enjoy being kissed back, being able to read a face, and feel the things that hands can do. And he knows how much Whirl wishes he had his face and hands back, and because of that reason alone he'd GET those back for the other mech if only he could. But then again, it's probably that same lack of hands and face that brought the two together at a time Blast Off was traumatized against such things, thanks to Feint's mental attack. The shuttleformer has grown fond of Whirl just the way he is. He pulls his head back, keeping his hands holding Whirl's claws while tracing fingers affectionately along their rims.

The Combaticon stops to think a moment, reflecting on the less than pleasant memories. "I... remember what I said to you /as/ he dragged you away." Something he had never said to anyone before.

It's weird to think that Whirl's horrible mutilation was one of his biggest selling points for Blast Off. Who knew the haughty shuttleformer would be into that sort of thing? Whirl supposes he has Feint to blame (or thank, as messed up as that sounds) for this. "Right, that's what I meant," Whirl says, flexing his claws every so slightly as those fingers trace along them. "When Starscream was taking me away, you radioed me. Was what you said true or was it something you maybe.. said by accident?" He becomes flustered and looks away. "I mean, I understand if you blurted it out without thinking and don't really feel that way, since you were under a lot of stress and what have you."

Now it's Blast Off's turn to think that Whirl is being adorable. His grin widens, though it loses the smug overtones in favor of simply affectionate ones. He brings a hand to nudge Whirl's head back to looking at him and flashes a soft smile. "No, it wasn't an accident." His head tilts to the side thoughtfully, and he glances upwards. "Well... maybe a little. I.. I hadn't thought about it a lot before. I knew I wanted to be around you more often, more strongly than ever. I hate the long stretches between seeing you, not always even knowing if you are alright. But I hadn't... thought in terms of..." he pauses, then finally says it again, "...love." The grin returns. "/Lust/, maybe."

He gives one of Whirl's claws a tight squeeze. "Lust was... easier." The grins fades back into a thoughtful expression. "And "love" is not something I tend to say. I... I'm not sure if I have /ever/ said it before. I've had a few... encounters, but they never lasted long. I'm a shuttle, I never tended to stay in one place long anyway. I don't... I don't really HAVE a lot of experience with... love. It's not really something Combaticons are taught to value. We're supposed to be warriors, not... lovers. But now..." He gazes into Whirl's optic and finishes quietly, "I really... I do really think that I love you."

Whirl can only stare at Blast Off as he goes on, unable to form any kind of coherent response. It's just a lot for him to take in, he's never had this kind of conversation before. He's silent for a long while, though the squeeze to his claws result in him making a quiet noise. Finally, after much deliberation and no doubt awkward silence from Blast Off's point of view, he finally speaks.

"I'm not sure I know what love is. Not this kind of love, at least. There was a time, before the empurata, where I thought I knew but..." His body stiffens, the cyclops recalling that particular time in his life. "It wasn't like this. This is.. more intense. It's dangerous. It's risky as hell. I mean, we are really bad at keeping out relationship a secret, it's really only a matter of time before it reaches Megatron and then what? We're both screwed. We're both screwed so hard. It will be the biggest mistake either of us has ever made." His claws close gently around Blast Off's hand. "But even knowing that fact, knowing the danger we're putting ourselves in.. I can't stop myself. I can't keep myself away from you. I feel sick when we're seperated for too long, and when we're able to get together, all I want to do is be close to you." He scoffs and tries to look stand-offish, obviously uncomfortable with sharing his feelings like this. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't know what love is and I'm probably really bad at it but if what's happening between us is love then.."

Whirl leans in, his 'face' buried against Blast Off's cheek. "..Then I guess I love you too."

There's a long period of silence, and Blast Off is suddenly worried that perhaps he said too much. Or said the wrong thing. What if Whirl doesn't feel the same way? The shuttle experiences a sharp stab of concern, of embarrassment. And he's just about to add a hasty addendum about how \*well, this is probably all really silly, and feel free to laugh hahahaha\*... when Whirl speaks and puts his mind to ease.

The Combaticon listens, another smile half-forming on his lip plates. Only half, because some of what the cyclops says is an uncomfortable truth. "...Yes." He glances downward. "If... when... Megatron finds out, we are indeed... "screwed so hard." I may well... be smelted on the spot." His optic ridges furrow down and he gazes back up. "Or... my worst fear is... they'll try to get me to shoot you, kill you." His free hand comes up to brush against the side of Whirl's "face". "The very thought makes me sick now." His hand drops away and he attempts a smile again. "But I feel the same way. I can't stop myself either, and I don't /want/ to. I will NOT let my life be dictated to. Not in the past, despite losing everything and being stuffed in a /box/ for millions of years... and not now, either." His voice carries a steely, determined edge.

Then Whirl leans in, and says those magic words, and Blast Off just stops a moment to savor this. He rests his head on the other mech's, bringing his hands up to embrace Whirl in a unashamed hug. He just stays like that awhile, then he actually \*chuckles\*. Yes, Blast Off chuckles. "Maybe neither of us really know what this "love" thing is all about, but there isn't anyone I'd rather learn about it with than you."