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Title: Appropriate Responses

PCs: Blast Off, Swivel

Location: Kaon

Date: 21 February 2015

Summary: Blast Off and Swivel bump into each other. Swivel has a lot of questions for him.



Blast Off is taking a walk. A long walk. You know how, when you have a lot on your mind, you sometimes get restless and just need to GO? Go somewhere, it doesn't even really matter... just as long as you move. As long as there's motion, something to engage your mind- even if it's simple rote action like putting one leg in front of the other. Because sometimes? You're doing really well to even do that. 


This is Blast Off's situation right now. He had a brutal breakup with his fellow Combaticon Starchamber, then found out she went and talked to the /other/ person in his life, Whirl, and he nearly broke him with him, too. Though Blast Off hadn't been aware that they were even "together" in the first place. It was VERY complicated, Ok? But that situation was salvaged, somehow, despite the fact that he also learned that Whirl was going to join- THE AUTOBOTS. Oh Primus no. But Blast Off was so worn out, so weary.... he just couldn't fight it and so he let it be. And he is determined to stay with Whirl, if he can... as long as he can. And yet still- the AUTOBOTS. There are so many NOPES there it's not even funny. So yes, there's a lot on his mind. He walks down a street, hardly even seeing where he's going. One foot in front of the other.....


Ever just need to get out and go for a walk? You don't care where.... oh yes, was this not already covered? Whilst Blast Off mind is engaged mostly with relationship based drama, Swivel, who had driven all the way to Kaon for an express delivery, found that she wished she had more than that one job to follow-up the news that she had received. So instead she's wandering around Kaon, which also brings up other thoughts. Last time she was in Kaon, she had that odd, but very enlightening and strangely flattering although simultaneously troubling conversation. But still... Turntable was on her mind. It was not like she knew the mech all that long. Perhaps it is because her testimony of his innocence was ignored? And why wasn't she also hauled in? It was unfair, unequal, and it was downright wrong. And frightening. Oh yes. Frightening. Should she bring this up to Soundwave? Or will it just be another fact to someone who probably hears these stories every cycle? Perhaps she ought to wait until she knows more about the circumstances. She'll wait. She waited this long to learn of his death, she'll wait more to learn why. But what /if/ she could have done something? She chose not to. Yeah, it's eating her up like scraplets. 


While these thoughts are weighing heavily upon the young femme, she isn't paying much attention either. And as she rounds a corner THUNK! Something also moving just around that corner, but something much bigger, causes her to fal back onto her tire-laden aft.


At least Swivel wasn't knocked flat on her back like that time Whirl menaced her. She quickly gets back up onto her feet, springing to an upright position but bows her head with apologies tumbling over one another trying to show penitence as soon as possible so as not to leave whomever she bumped into of any doubt that she took the blame. But when she actually hears her name she looks up and recognises Mr Fancy Servos AKA Blast Off. "B-Blast Off! Wott're pleasant s'prise!" the femme exclaims.


Blast Off blinks. It's an *extremely* rare thing for someone to say that seeing him is a pleasant surprise... at least in an un-ironic tone. Especially nowadays. At least if your name isn't also Whirl. The shuttleformer tilts his head slightly, then reaches out a hand. (Gasp, physical contact!) But seeing her immediately puts "manners" on his mind. "It is nice to see you, as well," he states, the perfect gentlemech.


Nothing like a dose of trying to be a good example to keep someone on their toes. Swivel smiles up at the mech with that child-like adoration that is difficult to ignore. However, neither of the things she had learned were really usable at the moment, which leaves her unable to wow him with how well she retained her lessons. Oh! She can try and extrapolate. "'Ow are yoo this cycle?" Ha ha! Okay, so she still drops H's. That may be long and difficult to correct. It's a pity that she is wasting such a well asked question when the question probably brings up all sorts of unpleasantries.


Blast Off gives her a polite little nod of the head. He is pleased to see her attempting to use some of the manners he was trying to instill into the femme. Her question is answered, though there's a little catch at the beginning. How does he really feel? Worried, confused, angry, hurt, sorrowful, lost... so many things. "I am... fairly well. How are you? I see you have remember some of the things I taught you."


Turntable Shmurntable. That problem is set aside and Swivel looks absolutely thrilled that Blast Off notices. Well, it's not set side so much as she is pushing it into a tiny corner where it can brood and then blow up in a big tantrum in her brain later for trying to overwhelm it with positivity. Her optics flicker and she goes onto the very tips of her pedes, giving herself just a little extra height. NOt that it makes much of a difference in their comparative sizes. 


"Good, good, well. Ya dun look scrapped're nuttin'. But 'en... yer not from Nyon so tha's prolly not the norm f'ya..." Swivel chatters. "Soooooooooooooooooooo a classy mech like ya's gotter be pretty cool in mos' situations, yeah?"


Ahhh, now /complimenting/ Blast Off will get Swivel ALL the kudos. The shuttleformer straightens up even more, if that's possible, and looks much more pleased than he had been. "Indeed. I am a shuttleformer- the most elite of the elite. With that comes a certain responsibility to loook and act as classy as possible." Because he's ALWAYS classy, right? Riiight?


"I's askin.... coz 'en I kin 'spect ya notter blow yer top if I ask, oh, say, 'ow such a cool an' sophisticated mech like yerself kin possibly be a Decepticon? 'Ent they jus a buncher angry miners with big guns and explosives tha' dun care if th'very people they sway they're fightin' fer end up as collateral in their fight 'gainst th'senate? Coz tha's wot I 'eard, in' I jus kint see you as summun' tha fits th'sciption." Well...... now the compliments come with a full compliment of back handing; But the femme looks so earnest, like someone who is hoping for a denial.


Blast Off stiffens at that. Uh oh. Violet optics dart away, then back at the femme as he sort of leans back to consider how to answer all that. However, he's been honest with her so far, and the jig seems to be up, and she doesn't SEEM to be an Autobot agent, so..... He sighs just slightly. "...How did you know? I don't exactly make a big show of that." He glances down briefly. "And... no, I am NOT a typical Decepticon. They do seem to be a bunch of hardscrabble, grungy groundpounders who wouldn't know an Orion Three Orchards from a cheap Instellar Vineyards." (Those are wine brands, naturally...) 


"And... well..." His face comes up and he looks quite aristocratic as he gazes off into the distance. "I am a warrior, too, Swivel. I was Primal Vanguard. I know how to fight, too... though I prefer more civilized things. ..Usually. But I know how to defend myself, and that's what a lot of the Decepticons are trying to do- defend themselves. From a corrupt government- and something as big as fighting the entire government isn't always going to be neat, orderly- or pretty."


Swivel rather patiently listens. If she were, say, someone like Hot Rod, she'd probably be interjecting very passionate opinions to try and override what Blast Off was explaining. But the femme listens. "Mmmmm.... so outter curiosity, if I was, say, t'compare ya to, well, maybe the Nyon Rebels...." they don't have a name although Swivel insisted that she should, but hopefully that description is adequate, "... would tha' flip yer 'elmet?" Swivel asks. She is having a very difficult time seeing the difference between the beliefs of the two, just the methods.


That's actually not an offensive comparison to Blast Off at all. He actually transports cargo and talks to the Nyon rebels, and while he's still not completely sure what to make of Hot Rod, he's earned at least /some/ respect. "I... could see that. We are fighting for the same thing- they just seem to take a slightly more... I don't know, haphazard approach. I'd say the Decepticons have a more organized and battle-ready stance. The...Nyon Rebels seem to like to run around, blow a few things up and call it a day. Still, they do their part."


"Mmm....." Swivel is tempted to make more comments about Nyon Rebels. Especially since they had failed in their endeavours to save Turntable because they were not overly organised. And perhaps because she backed out. There is a moment where Swivel's countenance falls and she looks momentarily upset... but she quickly pushes it away. "Wellum... guess tha answers that question.... as fer 'ow I found out, it came up in a conversation with summun 'oo knew. Dun feel I otter say 'oo." Swivel rubs her chin. "Hmmm actually I kinner wanna ask ya sumtin, coz, yer, well, yanno wot the 'propriate 'sponse to things are, I bet."


Blast Off manages to catch that glimmer of sorrow and his head tilts a little to the side. She doesn't say anything about it, though, and it's not really in Blast Off's nature to pry. So he considers what she /does/ say, and replies, "Very well, what is it?"


Blast Off blinks at that. HMMM. He considers this a moment, then... "What /kind/ of kiss? I mean, where? And... who? Someone you just met on the street, your Boss, your co-workers.....?"


There is a clearing-of-the-vents noise from Swivel. "Uh... just on the cheek, but lotsa, uh, 'eavy complimentin' 'n such... an' person was... oh...... REALLY high caste... but I'd never seen 'im b'fore that. But... uh... say.... uh...." She thinks for a moment. "But high caste."


Blast Off HMMMMS some more as his optic ridges furrow down a bit. "That is... rather peculiar, to be honest. For a High Caste to kiss you like that and compliment you... and he doesn't really know you? I'd... I'd consider that suspicious." A black hand comes up to stroke at his chin thoughtfully. "Now, in some circles, there CAN be sort of... "polite" kisses, I suppose. Among /very/ High Caste circles. Almost royalty. Or those that think they are..." The shuttleformer's head tilts. "What did you do?"


Peculiar indeed. Swivel thought so. She very much thought so. Which is why she had NO idea what to do. "I uh... stood there smiling like a dolt," Swivel answers truthfully. She scratches her cheek. "I dinna think I was doin' 'enthin' ta 'tract tha' sorter attention. I mean, I was jus' talkin' with a friend... 'en... yanno I dunno. E' showed up, I dropped my gaze 'en did all the things I was taught t'show respect, an' 'e said not lookin 'im in the optics WAs disrespect and he lifted up my chin and made me look 'im in the face." Swivel tilts her head to the side. "'En 'e was all flattering, and all I could do was say thank ya and smile an' look like a complete..... I dinna know WOT t'do 'coz I dinna wanner cause offense. I'm not USED to that sorter thin'. Other femmes mebbe, but not /me/."


Blast Off nods. "Understandable. When one is used to polite society, such intrusions on personal space or unexpected behavior can leave one feeling awkward and amiss. Especially if you aren't quite as *sophisticated* as, say, *I* am." The shuttle's ego is as huge as ever, at least. "I believe you acted appropriately. However, should this individual reappear, you might be wise to exercise some caution. And keep in mind your own personal boundaries. If this individual insists on intruding upon those boundaries, you should feel free to back away, or otherwise defend your personal space. Retreat, say you suddenly remembered you need to do something... whatever feels right."


Nodding and nodding Swivel listens. Arcee said be firm but polite. Blast Off is telling her to exercise caution and make an excuse and leave. Swivel thinks this over for a little while. Swivel then rubs her cheek and looks around. "Um...." she tries to think. "You said ya used t'be elite... ya... yar a gentlemech... so you wunna really, uh, iffen talk to summon like me. Might've ignored us. But..." Swivel wonders how to say what she is wanting to say. "If... IF ya told summon at the bottom to do something.... you'd 'spect 'em to do it, right? I.... um.... or mebbe you'd seen other, uh, uppers... they got certain... uh... expectations we jump 'en they say jump..."


Blast Off leans back, clasping his hands together as he looks thoughtfully at the femme. His expression is hard to read... a mix of the yearning he has for his lost High caste status... and the added wisdom of time and experience. She's right, he wouldn't have really given her the time of day before. "That is... correct. I didn't notice lower castes before... not very often. Once or twice, but yes... I knew I was High Caste and expected them to show me respect." He lets out a small vent of air, sort of a letting out of steam. 


"I have learned some things living here in Kaon, talking to groundpounders and miners and all sort of ruffians and unsophisticated types. I suppose it's opened my optics to a number of things. I know a bit more of what you... lower castes have gone through. Others would not have that experience, and might be much less sympathetic." Is that the word for HIM? "But I do believe that regardless of your caste, have ALWAYS believed... that choice is important. And your choice to keep yourself safe and sane ought to be respected. And if it is not... then you are entitled to defend yourself, in /my/ opinion."


Swivel listens very carefully, and a look of sympathy crosses her expression. She's never had great things only to lose them. In fact, she's started from the bottom and worked her way up a little bit. She can only imagine what being in high society and then losing all one's privaleges and nice things and respect must be like. However, there is something Swivel wants to bring to Blast Off's attention. "Aight. Let's p'tend ya wanted somethin' from me. I know you WOULDN'T, but, someone with yer size an' training an' stuff... wanted somethin' from me and I dinna want to give it. It gets violent. 'Ow do I 'fend m'self? Oh but it's more, if I 'itcha, an yer still 'igh up, it's my word 'gainst yours, an' the enforcers are gunna take yers, or whoever's, over mine." Swivel takes a moment to sort her thoughts. The truth is, she's never been heavily exploited due to her lower caste, but suddenly, the possibility is hanging in front of her. "Socially 'n physically... I'm defenceless." Swivel blinks and suddenly looks disturbed as if she hadn't realised that until she said it. "I-I'm...."


Something flashes across Blast Off's face as Swivel speaks of hypothetical situations involving force and defence and training.... his expression begins to look a little uncomfortable. Memories flash across his mind, both recent and further back... trying to train Shiftlock and Arcee self-defence techniques. His recent fight with Starchamber. All femmes, all situations where he tried to be chivalrous- or something very less so. All less than happy endings. Something hits him- and he's not even sure what, as he takes a step back. "Well... are you asking me for physical self-defence techniques, or... social? Socially- your best bet might be to retreat as quickly as possible..."


There is a long silence from Swivel. What IS she asking? Maybe she thought there would be some sort of upper class code for being disinterested or otherwise saying 'leave me the hell alone' without being rude. But now that she thinks about it, it was a bit of a silly thing to think. "I dun think tha'guy's gunn bother me 'gain.... but yanno.... 'en these things come up, I kinner begin to do the 'what if' thing. An... I guess avoidance is all I kin do. Good thing I'm small an' fit places easily... but no... I'm not lookin' fer self defence trainin'. So long as I know I'm defenceless, I 'ent gonna try an' defend myself... coz if you train me, you'll still always be more 'sperienced 'en me an' so will everyone else 'ose got a 'ead start, yanno? An... look at these... LOOK AT THESE!" Swivel reaches over and wraps her fingers around her thin, cylinder-like upper arms. "I bet ya could bend these with li'l effort. I'm weak, and I /look/ weak. Prolly why I get mugged so much." Swivel pauses a moment. Mentioning muggings doesn't seem to faze her, but then, she usually just gives up the goods and runs. "I jus'.... hmmm... do I do things that make people think... I mean of what ya've seen o' me... do I got somethin' ya think an upper caste person would.... uh.... misunderstand? Um.... 'coz I 'ent a street corner femme..." She's not sure what they do exactly, but they get well paid and most people don't respect them. "I jus' wonder if /I/ did somethin' wrong an' if I'm t'blame."


Blast Off listens (and he /does/ have to listen carefully, he still can't entirely fathom her "accent"). His optics ridges furrow down once more as she mentions being mugged a lot. "What? You get mugged? frequently?" He stares at her, then glances at her arms... and yes, those do look weak. Weak enough that yes, even HE could probably overpower her should he want to- and that's saying a lot, because Blast Off isn't exactly the strongest mech out there- at all. He relies on speed- and something else. "If that's the case- there is something that is a great equalizer, you know." The shuttleformer brings his hand down, and suddenly there is a pistol in it, brought out from subspace. "Weapons make you the equal- no, the superior- to a mech 10 times your size and power. Have you considered learning shooting a gun?" 


Her final question gets a shake of the head. "No. That is not anything you are doing. You... I will not say that you come off as the picture of class... yet. However, you do not come off as some sort of trashy guttersnipe looking for a random interface, either." If Swivel even knows what "interface" means....


Interface. A joining of consciousness. Not recommended for the recently forged. Okay, that was some time ago, but she knows the word. She asked about it back when she was in PSS learning to be a good citizen and being trained for the function she was assessed for. She got a straightforward and honest answer, even if all the details were not gone into. And it's come up a few times. She knows that Whirl interfaced with Shiftlock, and that for some reason bothered Blast Off. She knows she's heard the term from the odd drunk, and even some of the sober But she doesn't really think heavily on it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she still considers herself 'too young to know' even though it is no longer true. Although, the femme IS young. 


"Oooooooheeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Me, fire a gun? Tha's.... oooh hooo hooo hoo ha ha ha yeah, no, dun ever dun tha'. Moment a gun gets introduced ev'ryone else pulls out theirs... but 'en knowin' 'ow to use 'em might not be bad... but I 'ent gonna carry one 'round, specially not in my work. I'd be leavin' it at SO many security check points." Swivel explains. And as for him saying she wasn't a skanky ho, she looks very relieved. "Okay. I was 'ginnin' t'wonder... coz 'en Thundercracker was warning me an saying he saw how I was with S.... er..." she was trying hard not to mention Starscream's name and almost did. "W-w-with ssir, coz I 'ent sayin' names."


Blast Off lifts an optic ridge at Swivel. "Your loss, then. I find a good firearm is invaluable at times. But I do have military training, so I am naturally comfortable with them." He shrugs and pockets the pistol back to subspace. Then she goes on, and that optic ridge hitches up even higher. Mentioning Thundercracker... a "S" name.... and someone High caste who would probably be pretentious enough to kiss Swivel on the cheek. Now both ridges drop down in suspicion. "...Starscream? Is that who it was?"


"I 'ent gunna confirm're deny tha'." Swivel responds. It sounds almost like a practiced response she'd used in several situations. And perhaps it is Swivel's loss that she won't own a gun. It's not that she is trying to shoot down all options, she just has an odd superstition that the moment she learns how to fight, somehow, she'll be dragged more into violence and not less.


It's not actually a bad assumption. There's a saying on another planet many millions of years from now: Those who live by the sword shall die by the sword. Those who are willing to mete out violence are more likely to encounter it themselves in return. But as a Combaticon, a willingness to be violent when he deems it necessary is ingrained in Blast Off. ...At least he's got one thing going for him: he's a /very/ good sniper. 


The shuttleformer tilts his head. "Mmhmm." He's pretty sure it's Starscream. "Well, I shall not pry, but know that if it IS Starscream, he is quite manipulative. And I have seen him behave much the same way with other femmes... using what he /considers/ his charm and sophistication to melt a ladies' spark and get what he wants... which would mean that he wants something from you- and if so, I would warn you to be careful. He's someone who tends to always have an ulterior motive." He should know.


It's not actually a bad assumption. There's a saying on another planet many millions of years from now: Those who live by the sword shall die by the sword. Those who are willing to mete out violence are more likely to encounter it themselves in return. But as a Combaticon, a willingness to be violent when he deems it necessary is ingrained in Blast Off. ...At least he's got one thing going for him: he's a /very/ good sniper. 


The shuttleformer tilts his head. "Mmhmm." He's pretty sure it's Starscream. "Well, I shall not pry, but know that if it IS Starscream, he is quite manipulative. And I have seen him behave much the same way with other femmes... using what he /considers/ his charm and sophistication to melt a ladies' spark and get what he wants... which would mean that he wants something from you- and if so, I would warn you to be careful. He's someone who tends to always have an ulterior motive." He should know.


Everyone is saying the same think about this Starscream, and she idly wonders how he could get anywhere with anyone with such notoriety? Or maybe that was why she was targeted because she was small time enough to perhaps not know his reputation. Swivel nods. "Yeah... tha's pre'much wot I've been told.... so I guess might as well admit it was Starscream... but I dinna know 'oo 'e was t'be honest at first. Found out later. I dun 'zactly ob-nob with uppers. I'm a Nyon femme, not a Vos one, so..." She shrugs her shoulders. "'En I learned.... I was kinner scared... coz I dinna know 'ow to deal with summun like 'im. Arcee said t'be firm but p'lite, but I dunna think tha'd really do any good." She tilts her head to the side and giggles a little, then frowns. Wow. Mood swing. "'N Thundercracker over 'eard a partial conv'sation I was 'aving wit summon else an 'E THOUGHT 'e 'eard I was looking to try 'n attach m'self to 'im, yanno, endura fer th'privleges. I was mortified. That 'ent my kinner thing." Swivel looks as though she's uncertain whether to laugh or sob at this memory.


Blast Off nods. "Yes. Well... he has his charms... or so I'm told. I wasn't charmed, but I am not a femme, either." The mention of Arcee causes a slight flicker in his optics. An old friend... turned enemy, apparently. He pushes it aside for now. "Yes... with him... I think she's right. Polite and firm... and keep your wits about you." The optics flicker again, this time stronger, at the endura assumption, and he almost seems amused. "Well... no. I wouldn't think it is. And that is a /good/ thing. A true lady (or gentlemech) does not stoop to such things. Their own confidence will draw others to them anyway. Like /mine/." He straightens up and looks a bit smug. Again, ego. 


The Combaticon also realizes the time- night is drawing in and he'd like to get back to his housing before it's /too/ late. "I should probably be going, Swivel. I have to head home."


"Oh, I guess time flies 'en yer.... well I 'unno if I'd call this fun." Swivel shrugs her shoulders at that. "Kay... firm polite, mebbe I'll try that. If tha dun work, I'll go to plan B. Run 'n 'ide," Swivel smiles at this as if partially amused. "Almost wanted ter inflame rumours goin' 'round the bar jus' t'get back at 'im.... once I 'eard the sorter thin' 'e prolly was tryin'. But 'en I'd 'ave t'dirty m'own name, an I dinna wanner do that. Revenge 'ent worth gettin' m'self dirty too. Course, if yer ALREADY dirty, might as well roll inther mud an' drag 'enyone ya can withya!" Swivel rolls her shoulders and looks as though she were to continue chatting on, but stops herself. "Oh... yeah... ya said ya'd better g'ome. Um.... outter curiousity.... where IS 'ome?"


Blast Off actually seems to be somewhat amused by that, letting out a near-chuckle- which is unusual for the mech. "I... understand. But yes... I would advise trying to take the high road, when possible. Have a little class, even if those around you do not." If only he could stick to that /all/ the time himself. He's... working on it, Ok? 


His amusement fades a little at her last question. *siigh* Home. Home used to be in Starscream's city, actually: Vos. In a highrise habsuite in the best part of town. Now look at him- living in a near-commune with some of his teammates. At least he has his own quarters now- humble as they are. He looks away, a little subdued, and answers quietly. "...Not too far from here. NOT what I used to have."


"Oh.... I'm sorry t'ear that...." Swivel kind of falls in step as if she intends to walk with him. Well, she is a chatty femme, and at least Blast Off doesn't get mad and storm off like certain flame-donning mechs. "I dun 'ave a 'ome. Dinn 'ave work f'me for a while so I kinner got booted to the streets. I'm makin' a come back since people wan' private couriers... but I still 'ent got a 'ome." She looks up at Blast Off. "Do you... d'ya get to sleep in a recharge berth every night?" She asks in almost a whisper, as if it were some amazing luxury.


Blast Off is wallowing in self pity about now, hardly noticing that Swivel is following him- until she keeps talking. About not even having a recharge berth. This causes him to stop and stare at her. "What?" As miserable and meager and mean as his quarters are... they do at least have a simple rechrage berth. "Uh... Yes?" Optics flickering, he cants his head to the side. "You have /nowehere/ to go?"


"Oh I woon say nowhere. I's offen go ter the 'Ook in 'Ostel." (READ: Hook In Hostel) "In Nyon. But it's crowded 'n things offen go missin'. An really there's only standin' recharge, an' yer limited to only so much time 'for they kick ya out. I dunno wot sorter places there are in Kaon. Usually I'd 'ave made it back to Nyon by now." Swivel glances about herself. "D'ya know of 'en place loik tha'?" There's nothing like making someone feel worse by making their own self-pity seem trivial.  Although for some it's a remedy.


For Blast Off it's a mixture of both. He IS grateful for a recharge berth- and having his own room is like YES PLEASE THANK YOU. Not a Vosian highrise, but some privacy at least. However- he also still feels REALLY BAD for himself, too. But he does have a small sense of concern wash through... not a lot, mind you, but he's amiable enough to Swivel by now that he doesn't quite think living almost on the streets and getting mugged a lot is really all that great, either. "I... I'm not sure. There is a hostel near here... it's called the Mineshaft, and is about 3 blocks up north of here and then one section to the west. It's crowded and a bit ...rustic... but that might suite your needs?" He doesn't know her well enough to think about offering her a place at HIS quarters... nor does he want anyone to have the wrong impressions about that, either. It's only one room, after all.


Swivel nods listening to him. "Three blocks north?" she repeats for confirmation. "That otter suit m'needs. Better'n pullin inter a tunnel and just goin' inter standby in me alt mode. 'En there wa'ther time I spent three cycles in th'sewers." Ew. Just. Ew. It's not biological waste, but waste is waste, and it means something that is no longer wanted, no longer useful, and possibly dangerous. "Tha'sounds like the kinner place I'm used to. Though sometimes thefts 'appen, they're safer 'en going inter standy in ther streets. Once woke up wi'all m'hub caps gone. Dunno why tha's all they took... I think it was more a prank 'en 'enthin'. Some aren't so lucky 'n lose limbs 'n th'loik. Tha's Nyon fer ya." She smiles a little and shrugs, as if body part theft were an every day occurence. "Wellum, 'ope ya get a good rest. I 'ent got 'enthin' on me worth taken' so I'm sure I'll get a good charge m'self."


Blast Off nods again. "Then I am glad I could be of assistance. Those nights on the street sound... quite unpleasant." He's had to do that himself once or twice, but usually as a soldier and usually as part of a team. He doesn't miss it, either. "Then have a good recharge, Swivel. And perhaps we will continue our lessons again sometime. For good manners and a knowledge of social etiquette IS something of value- and it's something no one can ever take away." Just look at him. The shuttle inclines his head, nods, and walks away.

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