Title: Catch 22
Date: 17 May 2015
NPCs: The Barkeep
Summary: Jazz tries to talk some sense into Blurr. Yeah. You can probably figure out the rest.
Blurr watches as the Insecticon he had just been talking to leaves with the boosters he'd recommended to her. Heh...she was nice enough, but being nice is easy. The racer himself knows that better than most. He knows Insecticons aren't bound to be the type to sympathize with him, and figures she was just trying to get information about him so that her friends could come and corner him later.
It's a good thing he didn't give her his actual name. Still, he'll have to have those matches rescheduled for a different time. Pulling out a datapad, he starts to do just that. Ha, better luck next time, glitcheads. He thinks to himself.
"Somebody's keepin' busy."
Jazz has decided to take a seat right next to Blurr. Either he's not trying to make a scene or he's making a quiet one. It may be kind of hard to figure out. But the top notch spybot is looking straight ahead and smiling just a bit, almost as if he's been here the whole time. He probably hasn't, but he's making it seem like he has.
Jazz has a way of blending in.
Jazz makes a very blatant motion to keep both of his hands on the bar in front of him, just to help prove that he's not here to cause any trouble or do anything. Just in case Blurr gets any bright ideas of making himself gone or starting anything. He's just here to talk so the more relaxed he can keep the wanted robot, the better.
It's now Blurr's turn to be startled, as earlier when he had startled Overclock. He jumps, and nearly falls out of his seat. Staring at Jazz, he -almost- bolts.
...and yet he doesn't.
Jazz just has a way with people, doesn't he? Something tells the speedster that Overclock wasn't in fact in league with Jazz. Plus, he doesn't have any weapons out or anything, so that helps things as well.
Finally, he relaxes -slightly-. "Well I don't generally do well sitting around doing nothing. I tend to get restless."
"Give us another 'round of whatever he's having."
Jazz is going all in on making sure that he can keep Blurr as comfortable as possible. He doesn't want to get into any kind of physical drama. Plus, it'd be nice to just have a drink for once.He still hasn't really looked at Blurr, yet, wanting to keep this as simple and non-threatening as possible. He's showing some trust here. By just sitting down and making himself comfortable. He's not too worried about Blurr attacking him? Must mean he's here to help.
"Well, we all know what happens when you get restless." Could he be referring to what this whole business is about in the first place? "So why don't we see if we can't keep something like that from happening again?"
The barkeep nods. "One round of hot Nightmare Fuel coming right up." he says with a smile and moves to fill the drinks.
Heh, nightmares. Blurr's had more than his fair share of -those- lately.
He sighs. "Look Jazz, I didn't even mug him like everyone says. He attacked me, and I defended myself, and Arcee helped, and the both of us ended up a little worse for wear, that's it." he lies. "Blast Off and I have a history of..." he shakes his head. "He has a serious vendetta against me. It's kind of personal."
Jazz's hands immediately go up the moment that Blurr starts trying to explain. He just shakes his head and pretends like he's not hearing anything, even though he's likely recording everything that's being said. Because that's what spies do.
"Hey, pump ya' brakes, mech." Jazz just offers a bit of a shrug. "I ain't here to judge or jury. I'm just here to ask you to do the right thing." Jazz finally turns to look in Blurr's direction. "Look. This is a critical time for us, for Cybertron, mech. There's a chance things could get better but I'm willin' to bet my life that ain't gonna' happen. Not right away. And the more we're at each other's throats, the worse things are gonna' get. And I got the feelin' that we're already headed for a few bad roads."
Jazz vents a bit before offering another one of his patented shrugs. "I'm just askin' you to make this easy on everyone and turn yourself over. If you want, I'll be right there with you to make sure nothin' happens. Whether you did somethin' or not, well, that's not for me to say. But I can tell you that the more you skid around here, doin' this kinda' stuff?" Jazz waves a finger around the hub. "The more guilty you look. And that'll make it /that/ much harder for anyone to see the truth when it comes out."
The bartender returns then, sliding a couple of glasses of the choice drink over to the pair. Blurr nods in thanks, though he doesn't touch the drink yet.
"I know I'm making things difficult for you Jazz, but I don't think you understand. Megatron -hates- my struts. Why do you think he made such a big deal out of this anyway? Do you think he'd make a big deal out of -any- couple of rogue Autobots supposedly 'mugging' or attempting to mug one of his soldiers? -No-. It's because it was -me-. If I turn myself over to him, do you think he'll listen to any kind of witness I have to give, or witness -anyone- has to give other than what -his- Decepticons have to say?"
The racer shakes his head. "He's going to kill me in the worst way possible and call it 'justice' the first chance he gets."
"Alright. If that's the way you wanna' play it, mech."
Jazz gets up from the bar, slapping a couple of shanix down on it and then he turns to Blurr again. "I just thought you'd trust /me/ more than you'd be worried about Megatron. But I can't make you do anything. That's not how I roll. I just want you to know that there's always a chance. There's always another way. If you think Megatron's going to kill you while he's got the entirety of Cybertron watching him? You're wrong. But if you /don't/ do something about this, and soon, there's probably a chance there's going to be more than a price on your head."
Jazz keeps his hands up for a moment so that Blurr can see them, before he extends one out towards the other racer mech. "Good luck, mech. Don't slow down, okay?"
Blurr puts his hands up too, but in a more defensive fashion. "It's not that I don't trust you Jazz, but then again I don't really know you all that well, either. If Megatron won't do it in front of people he'll do it in secret. I mean, don't you think he would?"
There's a moment of silence. "I'm not saying I won't, I just--I need to think about it." Another pause. "...I don't know you that well," he repeats. "But I'll be honest with you I always thought you were an upstanding mech who wouldn't compromise on the important things. So I'm having a hard time reconciling that with the fact that you seem to be rolling over in front of all of Megatron's hypocritical slagheaps. I mean you don't seriously think his plans are going to actually be -good- for Cybertron, do you?"
"Hey, I'm not askin' you to trust me. If I were in your position, I wouldn't trust me either." Jazz just shrugs. "But we're cut from the same stock. We're both racers. We both know how to ride. We both know how to get gone when things get a little rough." Jazz looks off to the side before looking back at Blurr. "But sometimes you gotta' know when to walk away from the track. Sometimes it's better to pull over than to keep shifting gears."
"Here's what I know. I know Megatron has plans for Cybertron. Right now, I can't say if they're good or bad. But I do know that what we had before was pretty bad. And I don't want to go through that again. I don't think anyone should have to. A lot of lives were lost because some of us were too caught up in our function to stand up and do the right thing." Jazz looks down at the floor. "Some of us aren't gonna' make that same mistake again."
"And for the record, I don't compromise on important things. Why you think I'm out here tryin' to talk some sense into ya', speedfreak?" Jazz grins, teasng.
Heh...yeah. 'Caught up in our function'. That's a bit of an understatement, in Blurr's case. There are a lot of things that come to mind. Things he'd rather not think about, but they always seem to force their way up every time that sort of thing is mentioned. Still...Megatron's ways -aren't- better. That much he's certain of.
"Well -I- can say that whatever they are, they -aren't- good. Jazz, he had Feint -tortured-. Turned into a slave. She may make light of it, talk about it as if it wasn't that big of a deal...but to me, it -was-. Maybe she has no regard for her own well-being, but -I- do. Do you seriously think, that someone who is just as horrible as the people he claimed to hate, is going to be -any- better than they were in the long run? He always was so outspoken against slavery and disposables and yet there he is, inflicting the same horrors on the people he thinks 'deserve' it. Guess it's only okay if and when he -says- it is. Maybe he thinks it's some form of twisted justice. You don't want to go through that again, well don't fragging cooperate with someone who is -going- to make it happen again. It'll be the same slag over and over again, until someone breaks the cycle and -doesn't- try the revenge thing."
"Sounds like you should be talkin' to Megatron."
Jazz shrugs and turns to make towards the exit. Because that's where he's going to have to go. "I'm not here to make you feel any kinda' way. You do what you gotta' do. You were gonna' do that anyway." Jazz cracks a smile. "I came to make sure you were alright and to make sure you know what you're doin'. And it seems like you do. So, like I said, just do me a favor and don't end up dead, okay? I ain't got the spark to deal with another memorial service right now."
Jazz once again offers a hand of friendship out towards Blurr. "I'll do what I can to throw Megatron off your tail. But do yourself a favor and don't hang out near /racing/. Too obvious, mech." is added with a little more of a hushed tone. See, Jazz is trying to help!
"Yeah, right." Blurr shakes his head. "He'd kill me if I tried that. And he certainly wouldn't put on a memorial service for me. Probably just toss me in a smelter."
He stands up, and finally takes the hand. "...Jazz, if I do turn myself in--" There's a flash of genuine fear there, from deep down where he -isn't- actually as tough as he acts and he -doesn't- actually know what he's doing and he is actually -not- all right. "You'll make sure I don't get executed or locked up for something I -didn't- do, right? And--you know that everything I did before, I did because I didn't really have a chance to call my own shots?"
"Listen to me. And hear me. And believe me. There's nothin' in this universe that could let me let anything like that happen to you. I've lost enough brothers. I'm not losin' anymore."
Jazz doesn't seem to want to be around for anything after that last statement. It is just so epic. So stylish. That he can't linger. Which is why he simply brings another hand up to make sure that Blurr understands he's not playing around here. And then he's pulling his hand free and giving the barkeep a nod before he moves off to stride out of the exit almost as stealthily as he entered.
Y'know. With style.
Blurr watches him leave, feeling considerably better about all of this. He smiles. "I believe you." And he means it.