|
Title: We're All Horrible Tonight PCs: Overclock, Thunderblast, Swindle, Whirl, Thundercracker, Arcee, Road Rage, Cosmos, Blast Off, Lockdown Location: Maccadam's Old Oil House Date: 20 May 2015 TP1: Autocracy NPCs: Bartender, Traumatized NPCs Watching Summary: Whirl pole dances. Do we really need to say anything more than that? |
If there's one thing that Thunderblast likes, it's drinks and a nice atmosphere. It's a far cry from prison, that's for sure, and she's been living it up since the Decepticons sprung her and her team. She sits demurely on one of the barstools, ordering something glowing blue and appropriately girly. She squeals in delight, arms raised, wiggling in her seat, the wings of her altmode kibble flipping a little. "OOoo! Oh this is so CUTE! Oh my Solus you have no idea how long it's been since I had one of these!" She leans forward and winks at the bartender. "Thank youuu~"
Road Rage strides confidently into the room. Too bad she immediately trips over a chair leg and goes DOWN. She scrambles to her feet and smiles weakly. "I, uh, lovetomakeantentrance!" She giggles. "HI!"
Swindle enters the bar for a stiff drink. He goes straight to the bar and orders a Black Oil Sparkler. He looks a little haggard, somewhat slumping on his stool as he awaits the beverage. He glances over at Road Rage momentarily, but then goes back to staring at the counter, as if the surface held the clue to some as-yet undiscovered treasure.
The expressive femme at the bar earns a curious and confused glance from a red visor seated at one of Maccadam's shining tan tables. The black-and-purple form of Overclock has stretched her half-bestial, half-Insecticon frame out in a chair with a small pile of shanix in front of her and one arm on the table. Opposite her is a gray and blue mech, a mid-sized vehiformer by appearance, who is ardently straining to pin her arm to the table with his own.
"That's it, put your shoulder into it like you mean it," the Decepticon coaxes. With no reason to hide her allegiance anymore, the insignia on the femme's chest is shining on full display. *WHAM!* The mech's hand strikes the table under Overclock's claw. "Not bad, you improved that time. Go one more for free?" She offers.
Sitting by their own against a wall, two muscle car alt-modes in matching colours are watching the proceedings silently while sipping from glasses of straight energon.
Thunderblast is a bit surprised by Road Rage falling in like that, but, hey every femme has her power-grabbing strategy. Maybe this one is playing the adorable klutz that makes men want to protect her! It's a viable strategy that Thunderblast has used more than once herself.
And then she notices Swindle. A smirk pulls at her lips, showing off the tips of her fangs. "Well well well... long time no see, Swindy."
Swindle gets his drink and has taken his first sip about the time that Thunderblast acknowledges him. He almost jumps in surprise. "Oh hey, long time no see yourself," he says, grinning while inwardly his thought process resembles a guy who ran into an old girlfriend that had maxed out all his credit cards.
Considering how many people pass through this bar on a daily basis, a random mech waltzing in would surely go unnoticed. Unless of course there was something particularly odd about him, perhaps some kind of strange physical appearance that makes him stand out from everyone else. Something like empurata, for example.
It's Whirl, okay? It's Whirl.
"Yooooooo, get me a bottle of your cheapest enerwhiskey," he says, immediately plopping himself at the bar without even a glance at anyone else seated near him. "Like.. really cheap. I'm talking bottom-shelf, tastes-like-slag-but-gets-you-drunk-as-hell cheap."
The sounds of groaning metal and a mildly revving engine emanate from Overclock's table as the femme proceeds into another round of arm-wrestling. Not needing nearly as much attention of her opponent, she gazes off towards the bar - and her optics flicker at the arrival of Whirl. "Sounds like you've had a rough cycle," she marks casually.
Road Rage sidles up to the bar. "Hi! Uhm, can I haveeeeeeeee..." she eyes the bar up and down. "One of everything! No, I'm kidding. I'm not THAT much of an enerholic. Some energon wine, please!"
<OOC> Whirl says, "DID SOMEONE SAY WINE? *blast off crashes through roof*"
<OOC> Blast Off ahahahs
<OOC> Overclock spits her drink. XD
<OOC> Blast Off says, "YES XD"
<OOC> Overclock says, "The only problem with that is the roof is probably tougher than he is."
Thunderblast sips her drink daintily, keeping an eye on who is coming into the bar as well as Swindle. "It's nice to see you again Swindy. How's Megatron working out for you? It looks like we're going to be in the same army~" she teases, showing a hint of fang. Hard to tell if she's happy... or threatening.
"Oh yeah, he's working out pretty great. Lots better than that stick-in-the-mud Senate. Business is growing by leaps and bounds. Same army, eh? Sounds like that'll be fun." He grins even wider as he looks Thunderblast over, suddenly realizing the hint of smitten-ness creeping into his spark.
The barkeep pulls out a bottle and begins to pour the enerwhiskery into a glass but Whirl shakes his head at him, prompting the barkeep to just leave the bottle on the counter for him. Whirl snatches it up in his class and practically shoves it into his neck shunt, letting it flow directly into his fuel tanks with a *dook dook dook*.
"Every cycle is a rough cycle," he replies to Overclock, glancing at her and her weird Vehicon buddies over his shoulder. "That and I just like to drink. Is that so wrong?"
A new mech makes his way into the bar, from the looks of it from somewhere recently in the wastelands. Especially from the fact he's wearing a anti-rad poncho and a wide brimmed hat. Doubt few would recognize the bounty hunter as Lockdown scans the room for a second, taking note of each face. He stops for a second as his optics lock on the vehicons saying mostly to himself, "Ruiner?"
It doesn't take him long to realize despite appearances its just a pair of fakes, though the resemblance is definitely striking. For now he just makes his way over to his usual table, the cygar in his mouth igniting as a he takes a short drag.
"Not on its own, though if you're having a rough cycle in this day and age you might want to consider a new line of work," Overclock suggests before once again pressing her opponent's hand to the table. "That was a good one, now off with you. Practice up and you might get me later," she offers light-heartedly to the mech.
The Vehicons look back with blank visors at Lockdown as the mech enters but don't pay him any special mind once he moves on. Overclock however turns to regard the wanderer curiously. "What'd you just call my friends?"
The bartender pours the bottle of 'wine into a glass for Road Rage. She snatches the bottle from him, leaving the befuddled 'bot with a single glass of wine. She takes a swig and smirks at Lockdown. "Nice poncho. Is it safe to touch you?"
Did someone say wine? Funny, Blast Off steps in not shortly afterward, almost like there's a link between him and the engex. The Combaticon hasn't been at Maccadam's in a very long time. It brings back memories of days when he still spoke to Blurr and Arcee as friends... and those days seem so long ago now. But then again... they are. He makes his way into the establishment, taking in what's different- and what has stayed the same.
Lockdown tips his hat up as he glances towards Overclock as the femme talks to him saying, "Would ask why thats important to you but I'll be polite and answer." Glancing to the vehicons then back to the insecticon he says, "I called one of them Ruiner, a mech that along with the Scavengers were part of my crew, till they joined the Decepticons. Nothing against them making that choice since it was theirs. He was a good buddy of mine, new his way when needing to get certain things back in the day. Your 'friends' just happen to share the same body type."
Looking to Road Rage he nods, "Don't worry, wasn't that far out in the wastes. The radiation was cleared off before I got here, so its safe."
"It's got nothing to do with work," Whirl grunts, pulling the now empty bottle out of his neck and plopping it onto the counter. "Just life in general."
Just then, Blast Off decides to go barhopping as well (probably because someone pulled out a bottle of wine, it's like a Blast Off magnet) and Whirl spots him almost instantly. "BLAST OFF! BLAST OFF, HEY!" He begins waving his arms around just in case the Combaticon didn't already see him. "GET OVER HERE YOU NERD!"
Swindle looks over when Whirl draws attention to Blast Off. "Fancy seeing you here," he says as he turns towards his combatibro.
"Can't say I've met him among the ranks. Same paint and everything too or was he just one of the million muscle car alt-modes on this planet?" Overclock ask to Lockdown. Before he can get seated she waves him over with a hand. "Care to wrestle for a few shanix or are you just here to... drink?" Whirl's display manages to pull the Insecticon's attention away and her antennas twitch at the energetic empurata. That mood sure didn't last long...
In a break from their treatment of Lockdown - and everyone else for that matter - Blast Off's arrival gets a small nod from the Vehicon pair. With enough Decepticons in the bar, maybe they can stage a coup.
Road Rage ignores Blast Off and the others and just looks Lockdown up and down. "What were you doing out in the wasteland?"
Blast Off flinches just slightly as Whirl calls out to him, and there's the faintest trace of bristling as he gets called a *nerd*. Which Whirl loves to do for some reason. "I am *not* a nerd..." he mutters, but there's no venom to his words. He knows it's affectionate. *ANNOYING*... but affectionate. He begins making his way over when Swindle speaks up and he *freezes*. For a moment, his old *oh smelt, my teammate will see me with Whirl- quick hide* reaction flares to the surface... until he realizes he doesn't *have* to hide anymore. He relaxes then. "...I happened to be in the neighborhood. I haven't been here in a long time. Many..." he looks around, "Memories."
Thunderblast waves at Blast Off. "There's my hero!" she calls out, loudly. She asides to Swindle. "I can't thank you Combaticons enough. I mean, Blast Off got me out of that -awful- prison on Garrus-1. I mean, what kind of government holds -colonist- for trial? It's like, not even their -business- that we attempted a coup on Caminus!"
Lockdown says, "Different paint job, same style of look as those two over there but haven't heard from him in years. Was going to talk to Thresher for any news, course you wouldn't know him I guess," he goes silent as Overclock turns her attention towards Whirl. He quickly takes note of Blast Offs all too familiar faceplate but doesn't comment as he replies to Road Rage, "Not much, personal business. Even with the Cons incharge theres still some work to be found. Few idiots attempting to make trouble for a few crazies that thought they could find a new Energon mine."
"Oh yeah," Swindle says to Thunderblast, "They had crooks running the joint, so what did they expect?" He sips at his drink some more. "I woulda been there, but I had other business to attend to.|
"That's another name I don't know," Overclock admits to Lockdown. "Charity wrestle for a couple shanix? I won't bite."
Whirl practically leaps out of his chair when Blast Off approaches, meeting him halfway and swinging an arm around his shoulders to draw him in uncomfortably close much to the Combaticon's chagrin, no doubt. "Blast Off, get drunk with me! Come on, it'll be fun!"
For the first time since he walked in, Whirl finally notices Thunderblast when she calls out to the shuttleformer. How did he not notice her before? "Oh hey, it's that.. wo-man from the radio. Thundertits, right? That was her name?"
Thunderblast turns and GLARES at Whirl. "The name is THUNDERBLAST, THANK YOU." She frowns at him. FROWNS. It only looks like an angry kawaii anime girl with a pouty lip.
Road Rage looks quizzical at Lockdown. "You a gun for hire, then?"
Blast Off blinks as Thunderblast waves to him, but he remembers her fairly quickly. I mean- how could you *forget* someone like that? It also seems he stands a little straighter at that, looking proud of himself. "Yes, I did. An assignment like breaking into Garrus-1 could not be accomplished by many mechs, but...*I* had the skills, of course." He hasn't noticed Lockdown yet, turning his attention to Whirl instead. Especially as Whirl grabs him and draws him close, which *does* fluster the shuttle some. He places a hand against Whirl's chest, pushing away a little at first as he glances around the room, though he eventually relaxes. Kind of. He's still not used to showing public displays of affection with Whirl among other... Decepticons. Or anyone, really. The hand pushes back again at Whirl's insistance at getting drunk. And calling Thunderblast...OMP. "/Whirl/. /Manners./" He hisses at the other mech.
Lockdown takes off his hat and places it on the table saying, "One of the best, least if you believe what others say about my reputation. Though some may frown on it when I took jobs from those like the Senate. Never from Zeta though, wouldn't even if he had bothered. Names Lockdown." He holds back a laugh as he catches the exchange between Whirl and Thunderblast, a smirk crossing his face as he looks to the barkeep, "Hmm, I'll take some Old Corroder, leave the bottle."
Blast Off's attempts at pushing him away only makes Whirl pull him in closer. Making the shuttleformer uncomfortable is a favored past-time of his and it's not like he's going to stop just because they're together, if anything it makes teasing him even more fun! Still, he ends up releasing his grip and giving Blast Off the space he so desperately craves.
"Well excuuuuuuuuuuuuuse me! How was I supposed to know that!?" He gives Thunderblast and her kawaii anime pouty face a cold stare. "Everyone was calling you thundertits, I thought that was your name."
Road Rage lives up her 'wine bottle and chug chug chugs and sets it back down on the bar. "Oh yeah? Well, Lockdown, I'm Road Rage... notthatI'msuperthrilledwiththatname!" She pounds her chest with a fist. "I'm a bodyguard! I'm getting at getting people out of tight spots with their chassis intact!" She glares at the Decepticons briefly. "Anyway, you must have good stories about collars or something, right? Tell me!"
Overclock whistles from her table as the mechs embrace.
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Motormaster says, "I have to admit. Drinking nightmare fuel straight from an Ibex Cup? Awesome. Not as awesome as breaking the leg struts of every last one of you racing freaks that is covering for Blurr, but awesome nonthless. Now step right up and race Drag Strip. You win, you go free. You lose? I break your struts. Until someone tells me where Blurr is. Such a fun game this will be!"
Swindle sighs and facepalms. "How would that even be a valid cybertronian name?" he says to Whirl, his optic brow furrowed. White Knight time!
-- Radio: C-Con-Chatter -- Sixshot says, "Still at it in your style I see, Motormaster. We're supposed to be getting the peoples trust, not holding demolition derbies with innocents."
-- Radio: C-Con-Chatter -- Motormaster says, "I get results. I don't make friends. Megatron wants Blurr? I'll deliver him."
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Prowl says, "Could I persuade you to engage in a distraction?"
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Motormaster says, "You know where Blurr is, cop?"
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Prowl says, "Unfortunately no."
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Motormaster says, "Then frak off."
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Whirl says, "Ha!"
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Prowl says, "Very well, I'll just have to destroy this myself."
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Motormaster says, "...what you destroying?"
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Paddles says, "Destroy?"
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Prowl says, "Ibex Athletic Association Headquarters. It's part of the Institute."
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Paddles says, "I see."
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Motormaster says, "Whowhassit what? All I heard was IAA. Where this shiny came from. Sure, why the hell not. HEY DRAG STRIP? Just break all their legs, make sure Blurr knows it's"
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Motormaster says, "..his call."
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Paddles says, "Is this related to what we'd spoken about not too long ago, Law-Keeper?"
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Prowl says, "Yes, Paddles."
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Paddles says, "And it is by my sea?"
-- Radio: A-Globalband -- Prowl says, "East, over the Manganese Mountains from your position."
"You were listening to -Motormaster-," Thunderblast says irritably to Whirl. "He never calls anyone their right name because he's too stupid to -remember them-." She huffs (!!!) and folds her arms, looking away and continuing to pout. /So offended/.
Blast Off is released by Whirl, almost to his secret disappointment, and his hand that *was* pushing against the mech trails and lingers just a little too long on the 'copter's chassis as he moves away. He's got his own ways of "teasing". Then he stands at proper attention, like a gentlemech should, and gives Overclock a slight glare for that whistle of hers. He doesn't recognize the femme so he simply raises an optic ridge as he looks at her before glancing to Thunderblast. He echos her huff. "That loudmouth is all bluster and no brains." Stunticons.. I mean, seriously? Decepticons who can't even fly. Pfft.
Lockdown shakes his head at the empurata, "Some things will never chage with some mechs, even off the radio." He downs a shot as his drink arrives, pouring another as he looks to Road Rage, "Well what would you prefer to be called. While theres a worthwhile occupation, good pay." He glances towards Blast Off, chuckling as the Combaticon still hasn't noticed him as he says, "Well considering our current company, I'll not talk of any Decepticons I brought in. Anyone listening better recall I was a free agent and the war didn't even hit its full stride then." He ponders a bit as he holo-display shows a few contract files, anyone watching would notice a file on BO with the words Contract Terminated displayed over it, quickly shifting through different files."
Overclock growls abruptly from her table and puts a clawed hand to the side of her helmet. "Rust-brained piston-head," she grumbles. Any response she may have had to Blast Off is forgotten as the femme's engine idles at an angry rpm.
Thunderblast glances back at Swindle. "So... you the boss now?" Strange question to ask him, but there's a certain smirk on her lips as she does.
Whirl shrugs at Swindle. "Give me a break! Have you heard some of the names we have? I mean, just look at yours for example. Swindle. That sounds like a negative nickname I'd give you after you swindled me out of a deal BUT NO. THAT'S YOUR ACTUAL NAME."
He pokes Blast Off in the chest with a claw. "And Blast Off? Really? Because he turns into a shuttle and blasts off? I'm just saying, it's not that crazy to think Thundertits was a legitimate name."
Swindle SNORTS at Whirl. "Yeah, but come on, seriously. Who names a mech after an organic mammalian component? That would be like calling Motormaster 'Motord...'--oh never mind."
Road Rage shrugs. "Just call me RR, I guess." She peers over as he flips through the files, totally notices the one on Blast Off, then eyeballs the Combaticon impolitely. "I want to hear a story with action!"
Thunderblast looks down at her torso plate tellingly as Swindle makes his comment.
Arcee has arrived.
Whirl points at Thunderblast's chest, looking between them and Swindle. "You tell me!"
"I'd rather call him 'scrap heap' but somehow I doubt that's happening this millenia," Overclock gripes from the back, being rather open about her opinion of the Stunticon. She might be quieter if he were present - hopefully.
Blast Off finally noticed Lockdown as he speaks and the tension is immediate. He's got a long time of associating that voice with trouble and he's ready for it- his hand already twitching and ready to bring out his ionic blaster from subspace. But the Bounty Hunter seems to be in a amicable mood and... what's that? Blast Off catches the screen where his own bounty appears temrinated. Well.. that *would* make sense by now. He still doesn't exactly trust Lockdown, but he does relax a little and refrain from bringing out weaponry. "... Long time no see." Then he looks back between Whirl and Thunderblast, and stares as she looks downward... then glances away. Ahem. This brings him back to Lockdown - and Road Rage. He eyeballs her back, then looks to Lockdown to see just what he's going to say.
Thunderblast places her hands on her chest. "These are not the only quality I posses -WHIRL-. Which by the way, /nice name/. I thought you'd be a -dancer-."
"Well if it isn't one of the ex most wanted criminals of Cybertron. Still have a itchy trigger finger I see," Lockdown says with a smirk. He lets the words hang in the air, waiting to see the Combaticons reaction.
<OOC> Thunderblast says, "For the record I love that Thunderblast's weird unthemely yet canon boobs are treated as some kind of bizarre abnormality. You guys are the best."
Arcee strolls in quietly while all of the discussions are taking place, and she has a seat at the bar. She notices a few familiar faces, and quite a few unfamiliar ones. The atmosphere seems a little tense, but she's hoping it turns out to be a calm evening.
"Who says I'm not? Have you seen these legs?" Whirl replies, lifting his leg high and propping the heel of his foot up on the bartop to show off his limberness.
The tension between Blast Off and Lockdown does not go unnoticed but Whirl decides not to intervene quite yet. Blast Off can handle this himself. Maybe. Should things get more heated, he'll step in and back him up but for now he just keeps an optic out.
Swindle takes another sip of his drink as Lockdown and Blast Off fill the room with the tension of a hundred yelling super saiyans. "Need me to get you anything, Lockdown? Some extra special weaponry, perhaps?" he asks in an attempt to smooth things over.
Lockdown's comment gets another little glare from Blast Off and at the mention of triggerfinger, his triggerfinger does indeed twitch once more. But he doesn't draw his weapon, instead straightening again and appraising the Bounty Hunter with a haughty look. "... Keep that *ex* in mind. Most of those charges were bogus, but... also keep in mind I can live UP to that reputation if I must..." He warns. Then he's back to *staring*, first as Thunderblast touches her chest and then Whirl shows off his legs... apparently this is KFC breasts and thighs night at Maccadam's Old Oil House. The Combaticon shakes his head and moves off to get a drink. Wine, naturally.
"Okay then Whirl - there's a pole on the stage. Get cracking." Yes, Thunderblast just suggested that. To Whirl. Let the fun begin.
Lockdown doesn't even flinch, watching Blast Off as he walks off, "Smart mech as always." Looking to Swindle he adds, "Right now, nothing Swindle. Though may come by your shop later."
Arcee grins at Thunderblast encouraging Whirl to be crazy uncle Whirl. This can only end in hilarity. She looks on, sipping her drink.
Road Rage waves at Arcee. "Hey, Arcee! How's it going? You feeling any better?"
Swindle smiles congenially at Lockdown. "Anytime," he says. After all, a mech like Lockdown is often in the market for new weapons. He then looks over at Whirl with a bemused look, seeing if the clawed mech takes Thunderblast's advice.
Arcee turns to look at Road Rage in sudden recognition. "Oh, hey! Yes, things are looking up now, how about with you?"
Road Rage snatches up her bottle and dashes over to Arcee. "Pretty good! Although... did you hear that thing they said? Registration?" She frowns. "I don't like that one bit."
"Neither do I, although I see it as...turnabout, you know? The Decepticons had to live like that for so long, so now they feel entitled to turn the tables," Arcee nods to Road Rage sadly.
Road Rage shrugs weakly. "I mean, I didn't make anybody register anything." She holds up her arm to show off her bicep. "This is what I do! I'm a bodyguard! I'm not like, a register...er." She looks down. "I miss Orion Pax," she adds, quietly.
Lockdown downs another shot of old corroder and nods to Swindle. He doesn't even glance at Road Rage as she moves to talk to Arcee, his optics shifting towards Thunderblast and Whirl.
"I do, too..." Arcee taps her chin pensively, looking down at her nearly-finished drink again before looking back toward Road Rage. "Say, you want to come with me? I need to go follow up on a lead."
Whirl is fully aware that Blast Off is oggling him and his legs, it's why he decides to call Thunderblast on her bluff and accept her challenge. That lingering touch from earlier? Yeah, he definitely noticed that and he knows it was intended to tease him. Well, how's this for teasing? "Watch and learn."
The cyclops approaches the stage and hefts himself up onto it, occasionally glancing between the pole and his audience. He reaches out and drags a claw along the pole almost experimentally before gripping it fully and swinging a leg around it.
Whirl grinds his hips up against the pole and leans back, the bizarrely jointed leg he stands on folding and flexing to drag him up and down along the length of inappropriately placed dancing pole. Seriously, why is this even here?
The Air Commander (hes not sure hes ever going to get used to that) walks into the bar and stops dead in his tracks when he sees the infamous Empurata grinding on the pole on the stage. The Seeker just stands there slack jawed for a moment as a wing slowly twitches.
Road Rage smiles brightly! "Sure! What's the lead?" She pauses, a brief moment of horror passing over her face. She leans in, then and whispers, "I mean, what's the lead?"
"Well theres a show I know many wouldn't pay to see," Lockdown shakes his head as he turns his attention away from Whirl, "Honestly, idiots." He tosses his spent cygar aside before pulling another out of a compartment.
"Come on, I'll explain more on the way there," Arcee tells Road Rage. As she heads for the door, she leaves some shanix for the 'tender, then playfully flings some shanix at Whirl on the way out.
Road Rage tosses money on the bar. "Wait for me!" She dashes out after Arcee.
Thundercracker ignores those going by him to leave and finally takes a seat at a table. He doesnt want ot look but its like a train wreck, you just cant help but not look. Finally a serving mechs comes up and he gives his order and then tries to find something else to look at.
Thunderblast watches Whirl, ascertaining his value as a dancer. It dawns on her that... wait. He's getting attention! He's EVEN GETTING MONEY?!
She rockets up out of her seat, and marches over to the stage. Oh this is not over. SHE HAS TO BE THE CENTER OF ATTENTION, DANGIT.
"Okay MOVE OVER! You're not bad but your technique leaves something to be desired!"
Lockdown raises an optic ridge as Thunderblast makes her way on stage. He doesn't comment, waiting to see what she does.
Whirl is actually surprised everyone in the bar didn't clear out as soon as he started bumping and grinding on the pole. He's even more surprised when Arcee actually throws money at him. Hard to believe he tried to beat her up the first time they met.
Whirl grabs the pole and pulls himself up, wrapping his legs around it and holding him in place as he dangles upside down. For a moment he makes direct eye-contact with Thundercracker and he gives his chest guns a tweak with his claws.
"No way! This is awesome," he says to Thunderblast as she rudely tries to steal the spotlight. "Go find your own stage to dance on, Thundertits."
Thundercracker has his drink handed to him and just takes a draw when Whirl makes optic contact and does.. well does what he does. He splutters on his energon and coughs a bit and then watches some femme trying to take the state. That has his interest.
Thunderblast glares at him, hands on her hips. "Oh you just made a biiig mistake, pal. A HUGE ONE!"
And with that, the boatformer flips around and attempts to *sit on Whirl's upper torso as he hangs upside down*.
Swindle ooohs when Thunderblast takes the stage, and throws some money at her!
Lockdown chuckles a bit as he watches, "Well now this is getting interesting."
"Pfft, yeah right! You know how many 'big mistakes' I've made in my life? I'm not scared of- HEY!"
Just like that, Whirl finds himself struggling underneath Thunderblast as she just goes for it and sits on his chest. Granted, his chest is pretty much a shelf and is perfect for sitting on but still! He clings tight to the pole via his thighs and tries to give Thunderblast a nasty glare but all he can see is the underside of her bizarre chest protrusions. "Are you serious!? Are you really doing this right now?!"
Thunderblast leans over to stare right back at Whirl. "I am absolutely going for this right now because you keep insulting me!" She straddles the helicopter's massive shelf-rack and leans down to grab hold of one of his torso guns in one hand, a sharp-toothed grin on her face. Her thighs clamp to his sides. "Just like riding an ik-yak," she purrs, completely pleased with herself.
Swindle is now literally drooling. "Frag, that's hot."
"Agree with you there Swindle. Honestly that femme knows her stuff," Lockdown turns his full attention to the stage.
It's one thing to manhandle his own chest cannons, but it's a completely different story when someone else is putting their hands all over them. Between that and the thighs clamping around him, Whirl is helpless to keep his ventilation fans from starting up in a desperate attempt to cool down his systems. "Woah! H-hey now, come on!"
Eventually Whirl loses his hold on the pole and he comes crashing down onto the stage with a loud clatter.
Blast Off comes back, drink in hand.... and then stops. And stares. At Whirl. And Thunderblast. And that pole. And stares. Did I mention staring? .... "....."
After a loooong pause, Blast Off suddenly lifts the glass of wine to his faceplate, the hatch opens, and he downs the full drink in one swig. That done, he turns sharply around and marches straight back to the bar.
He's gonna need a stronger drink.
"Oh no no no, you asked for this~," Thunderblast horribly teases - right before Whirl comes crashing down. She yelps loudly in surprise, tumbling down with the helicopter and falling backwards, still trying to hold on desperately to his torso with her legs, tightening them harder for support! "Eeee!" she girlishly screams.
Lockdown looks away from the stage to Blast Off saying, "Great show don't you agree?" Not even waiting for a reaction he says, "You look like you need a swig of old corroder or a shot of nightmare fuel."
Whirl originally got on stage with the intention to excite and tease Blast Off but it turns out HE'S the one getting teased and excited. Granted, it's not that hard to do.
"Guhhh.." Its really the only thing Whirl can say as he lays there on the stage, Thunderblast still sitting on him and squeezing the hell out of him with his thighs.
Blast Off looks back at Lockdown and just offers the mech a mute nod, for speaking would take too much cerebro-power and all of it is currently occupied by... thighs. And chest cannons. And... Oh yeah, definitely time for Nightmare Fuel. He orders two bottles.
Swindle grins as the sight leaves his combatibro, for the moment, utterly speechless. He tosses Thunderblast some more cash.
Thunderblast tries to sit up on Whirl, unlocking him from her Xenia Onnatop gripping action. "Ugh. You are like, -so- clumsy," she chastises, getting up and making herself comfortable, trying to pin him to the ground by sitting on the top of his torso shelf, wiggling herself into a comfortable seat just in front of his chest guns. Unfortunately the twin moons are half full in Whirl's range of vision from this point. She places her hands on her hips, haughty as she looks down at the empurata. "So you -might- be a dancer. But I still think that's not what your name means at all," she says, as Swindle makes it rain all over her.
Lockdown smirks as he watches, "Now theres a femme with a attitude. Doesn't even make you feel sorry for the mech. Especially since he was dumb enough to insult her." He takes a short drag of his cygar.
"I'M clumsy!?" Whirl snaps, making absolutely no effort to dislodge Thunderblast. It's not everyday he has femmes sitting on his chest and putting their fingers all over his chest guns, you know. "You're the one putting your big aft all over me! How am I supposed to keep my balance with all that weight?"
Thundercracker just sits there with his drink watching the stage show. What can he say?
Oh dear primus. The slag will hit the fan now. Whirl just did the cybertronian equivalent of calling Thunderblast 'fat'!
Blast Off gives Lockdown a small nod and starts pouring himself a drink from the first bottle.
"OH YOU THINK MY AFT IS BIG HUH?!" Thunderblast shrieks. Balling her hands into fists she just grinds her bumper right down onto his torso. "HERE! SEE HOW BIG IT FEELS NOW HUH?!" ... She has no idea what she's doing, but she really does think she's getting 'revenge'.
Whirl groans a bit when Thunderblast starts /grinding/ herself into his chest and it is most definitely not a groan of pain or discomfort. "Aaaaagh, oh nooooo!" He does his best to sound convincing but he's failing miserably. "This is so horrible. The only thing that could make this worse is if you started grabbing my guns again."
Lockdown continues to watch not even saying anything else and letting BO enjoy his drink. He does shake his head though as Whirl just seems to want more. Unless TB catches on, then he might regret it.
Swindle almost whispers, "I wish she'd grab /my/ guns like that..."
Blast Off finishes that drink, and the fuel is strong enough that he's beginning to feela little numb. Yes, maybe this will help. He turns and looks onstage just in time to see... THAT. He stares.
Then Blast Off quickly pours himself a second drink and starts chugging. Not numb enough yet. Nope. He goes through the second glass even faster than the first.
Cosmos trundles into the bar- the round little robot has a somewhat awkward gait (those big feet probably don't help much)- but at least he's able to keep from getting stepped on by any bigger mechs. So far, at least. He glances the bar over with wide, eager optics- and then he heads over to pull himself atop a barstool (even if it's high enough to make his legs dangle). His optics blink in confusion as he sees the little 'dance' between Whirl and Thunderblast- which is enough to make him return his attention to the drink list posted behind the bar ver, very quickly.
Thunderblast IMMEDIATELY grabs Whirl's guns because he just said that was the worst thing to do!! Oh she is determined and furious and frowning so adorably hard because her face can't manage anything remotely threatening, even if she wanted it to. Now her arms are behind her back, grabbing the chest guns which makes her front stick out worse, aaaaand she's wiggling around on Whirl.
No it hasn't dawned on her yet what this looks like. And if you take pictures, she will hunt you down and kill you.
<OOC> Thunderblast : Int: 7. Common Sense: 1
<OOC> Blast Off says, "XD"
A pity Reflector isn't in the bar. Swindle takes no pictures, having no means of doing so, but fortunately his memory is so good what does he need pictures for? He tosses yet more cash at Thunderblast.
"Go easy on that stuff, unless you plan on not just leaving orbit but the galaxy," Lockdown glances at Blast Off before focusing back on the show. He tosses some shanix towards the stage.
Swindle looks down at his nearly empty glass, then over at Blast Off. "Ugh, I better quit while I'm ahead, I think I'm going to be the designated driver tonight."
Whirl can only lay there as Thunderblast wiggles ontop of him, grabbing and handling his guns without a second thought to what it might be doing to him. He's totally okay with this. In fact, he's MORE than okay with this. Okay, let's be honest, he is getting some kind of sick thrill out of it. A sick thrill that reaches it's apex when the cyclops suddenly appears to go offline, his body going limp and his optic getting dark. He's motionless for a few seconds before his systems come back on, jolting him back to life.
"....I think I just overloaded."
Cosmos drums his round little fingers on the bar- and, out of morbid curiosity, he looks over at the stage again, and...well, while Cosmos doesn't have a very expressive face, it's pretty obvious he's rethinking whether or not he should've just stayed in orbit.
Blast Off does actually stop drinking long enough to notice Cosmos walk into the bar. Hmm. There's something sort of... space-altish about him, and it catches the shuttleformer's optic. But with the DISPLAY that is going on onstage his attention soon goes there again. Staring ensues once more, interrupted only by Lockdown. He turns. "I..I can handle it. I'm no .. lightweight." There's already a strange little pause like he has to think hard for the words.
Then he's back to his glass. But it's empty. He pours another glass, then looks up onstage where Thunderblast is tweaking Whirl's chest cannons and then Whirl speaks of... overloading. More staring, then he holds up the glass- then decides to drink straight from the bottle instead.
It's right about then that Thunderblast stops. Stops right there, cold. She -stares- down at Whirl.
"OH MY SOLUS YOU DISGUSTING -PERVERT-!!!" She leaps off of Whirl and shakes her hands as if she had been holding a dead body. "UGH! You-- you--!! OOOOHHHH!!!" she howls in pure (impotent) rage at having been taken advantage of in this manner, even though she expressly wanted to be the center of attention. Just not like THIS.
"I'LL TEACH YOU SOME MANNERS YOU CREEP!" Thunderblast starts trying to kick Whirl.
"Well this was predictable. Hey Macc did make sure he upped his insurance right?", Lockdown has turned to the mustached bartender as he says this, "Might need to take cover depending on what happens."
Whirl might feel bad for essentially tricking someone into touching him inappropriately but this is Whirl and Whirl is kind of a messed up guy. Seriously, ask anyone who knows him and they will tell you the same thing. It's only when Thunderblast starts kicking him does he feel any remorse but that has nothing to do with legitimate guilt and everything to do with him getting physically assaulted.
"WHAT!? How am /I/ the pervert!? You're the one who was all over me! Rubbing your bumper on me, putting your fingers all up in my guns!" He tries to shield himself from all the kicking but he's not doing a very good job, Thunderblast leaving foot-shaped dents all over his body. "WILL YOU STOP KICKING ME FOR FIVE SECONDS? HOLY SCRAP!"
"You tricked me!" Thunderblast protests loudly. She finally stops kicking him, however. "I am -never- going to forget this," she threatens, turning on her heels, hands balled into fists. "UGH. I am going to Kaon and taking like, a FIVE DAY OIL BATH. -Gross-." The Camien boatformer stomps right out of the bar in a huff.
Swindle thoughtfully tosses a small container of handi-wipes Thunderblast's way, so she can wipe herself down preliminiarily right away.
Blast Off blinks as Thunderblast starts kicking Whirl, but he can't entirely blame her. Even if he does actually *like* Whirl. Then again, he's got his own issues. Including binge drinking, apparently. It hampers his response a little, but he eventually starts trying to stand up and make his way towards the stage. It turns out to be a little difficult after having downed most of a bottle of Nightmare Fuel, and he stumbles into a chair as he begins speaking. "Now ...HOLD ON there... Thin..thunder...Thunderthighs...."He blinks again, then shakes his head and pushes the chair away to attempt to get closer. "I know... I know he's..*hic* a bit.. abit..." He stops and stares at the floor, trying to think of the words. "A bit...un..un... uncommon? Un...done? Un..." Uncouth has never been so hard to think of. He holds up a finger. "Wait, I've got this. *hic* "
Lockdown rolls his optics as he looks to Swindle, "Maybe he should stick to the enerwine from now on." He finally returns whats left of his bottle to the bartender along with the shot glass, "This evening proved strange yet entertaining."
"Oh yeah," Swindle says, nodding to Lockdown, "I think I'm going to have to protoform-sit my partner here, to make sure he doesn't pass out on the floor all night."
Don't worry, Thunderblast. Whirl will never forget this either. In fact, he'll probably remember it quite often. In private.
Whirl sits up and scoots over to the edge of the stage, letting his gangly legs dangle over the side. "The word you're looking for is uncouth," he says to the extremely intoxicated Blast Off before hopping down and grabbing ahold of the shuttleformer's shoulder. "How drunk are you right now?"
Thunderblast DOES NOT HAVE TIME FOR BLAST OFF. She has already pushed past the drunken shuttle because UGH.
Blast Off doesn't even notice that Thunderthighs... er, thunderblast, is gone now. He's still trying to come up with *uncouth* but the word escapes him. That finger remains pointing in the air, even as Whirl finally enlightens him. "UNCOUTH!!!That's it!!" Blast Off looks very pleased with himself.
He remains looking pretty satisfied with himself until Whirl comes up and grabs his shoulder. He lets out a *huff* at the question. "Drunk?... DRUNK?!?" He glares up at the other mech. "I am NOT drunk! I am..." He stops and stares at Whirl. Then, suddenly, he starts LAUGHING. Loudly. In fact, the shuttle is not just gripped by Whirl now, but with a bad case of the giggles. They subside a little as he looks away, then he looks back at Whirl- and starts laughing again. Yeah... not drunk at all.
Cosmos glances curiously off after Thunderblast- and then looks back as Blast Off starts going about...and then Whirl's putting a hand on the shuttle's shoulder- and that's about when Cosmos decides to hop down off his barstool and slip off! He's already seen enough. "...didn't know it was -that- kind of place." he murmurs to nobody in particular in his oddly accented voice. Still, the nice thing about being so small is being able to make a quick exit unnoticed!
Lockdown sets down some shanix on the bar saying, "Yeah well good luck with that.", getting up he looks to Blast Off and Whirl, "Both of you do deserve eachother.", he picks up his and flips it onto his head, "Enjoy your time, make sure he doesn't fly for a while." And with that he walks out.
"I got this," Swindle says, coming over to Blast Off. "Ok there bud, if you need a ride home, I'm your mech."
"Primus, you're /wasted./" Whirl has no idea what Blast Off was drinking (he was far too busy with other matters) but whatever it was, it's obvious that it was strong as hell. Just look at how he's giggling and stumbling around!
Whirl pulls the shuttleformer close against him, making himself something steady for him to hold on to when he inevitably finds his equilibrium in jeapordy. Lockdown's comment gets a slight huff. So far everyone who has said that has always been speaking sarcastically and it's starting to get old.
"Hnn, what did Blast Off get into?" Whirl asks of Swindle, slightly reluctant to hand him over. It's a bit selfish of him, Swindle is Blast Off's kin afterall, but he can't help it. "What was he drinking? Are we going to have to get his tanks purged?"
Swindle has a look at the bottle. "He's drinking enerwine now, but there was something before, I forget what it was."
It's a good thing Whirl's got Blast Off held steady, because at the movement the shuttleformer does indeed have his knee servos give out under him momentarily, and he has to scrabble a hand onto the helicopter for some support, leaning close and looking woozy. The giggles come and go in fits, though. He's far too drunk to have noticed Lockdown's comment, just working on trying to hold steady and wait for the room to stop spinning.
He does notice Swindle, too, and looks over at his teammate. "HEY!!! Swinnndle.. ha ha ha ha." Another burst of uncharacteristic laughter. "I'm FIIINE, Jus' fiiine. Jus' hadsome uh...uh..." He blinks and looks back at the bottle he was just drinking from. Nightmare Fuel. He made it through most of the first bottle, though the second remains untouched.
Swindle gets a look at that bottle. "Oh, the hard stuff. That explains it," he says.
"Hmm." That's all Whirl has to say when Swindle tells him about the enerwine. He's seen Blast Off when he's had too much wine and he doesn't burst into giggle fits like he's doing now, that's usually reserved for the hardest of substances.
Whirl suddenly has a lot more to say on the matter what Blast Off himself reveals that it was not enerwine he was drinking but in fact NIGHTMARE FUEL. "What!? You're screwing with me.. Really? /Nightmare Fuel?/" He peers at the bottle, noting it's fullness. "Wow. I'm surprised you were able to drink as much as you did."
Blast Off HUFFs. "Wuuuut..." He tries to look outraged but most likely just looks confused. "Ima.. Ino..I'm notta *lightweight*, I can.. I can hand..I can handl..I can do it, watch!" He pulls away to head over towards the bottle, which he intends to grab and demonstrate he can SO drink Nightmare Fuel. "I'll jus' finishh it.. off. Youse act like I can..can't hold my liquor... TCH!"
Of course he's stumbling all the way over there.....
"When did this even happen?" Whirl asks, slight frustration in his voice. "I didn't even see you come back in." Of course he didn't, he was far too busy putting on some weird exhibitionist performance onstage. He sighs and rubs at the sides of his head with his claws.
"No." Whirl is quick to scoop up Blast Off when he threatens to polish off the rest of the bottle, grabbing him by the waist and throwing him over a shoulder. "That's not happening. Trust me, you're going to regret drinking what you did, you don't need to add more on top of that.
"When..when..."Blast Off ' s hand waves around indignantly. "...When you were up there /flaunting/ with that... that *floozy*!" He lets out a HUFFF just as Whirl scoops him up and throws him over his shoulder. This very nearly causes the shuttle to purge his tanks, but fortunately for Whirl he somehow keeps it in. He huffs some more, beating at the other mech once or twice with his fist. Not that it hurts. "UNHAND ME! I saw you up there.. being all un...unc..un... being all LIKE YOU WERE with that femme, you can't come mechhandling ME now! I protest!"
Whirl doesn't unhand Blast Off. If anything, his hold on him tightens even as the shuttleformer bangs his fists against him in a hilariously ineffective drunken rage. "Okay, FIRST OFF, I'm not 'mechhandling' you, alright? I'm stopping you from making a big mistake."
He begins walking towards the doors, Blast Off still in tow. "Secondly, SHE was the one being.. uncouth to ME! I just wanted to show off my sweet dancing moves, I figured you would be into it. How was I supposed to know that she was going to do all that!?"
Blast Off keeps pounding away ineffectively at Whirl even as he's lugged off. Then he finally resigns himself and sighs, arms sagging. Glancing to Swindle, he shakes his head a little. "Nah. I think he's made up his mind. Mr. No Fun. Pfft." Oh well, he doesn't actually really *mind* being mech-handled by Whirl anyway, though if he was less drunk he'd be mortified this was taking place in /public/.
"Well...Ok, yeah..." He's obviously drunk when he says *yeah* instead of *yes*, "She was *hic* all /over/ you, the vixenish guttersnipe..." HUFF. Then a pause. His gaze drifts down to Whirl's aft... and then his legs. "...Those... were some nice ...moves, actually... *hic*!," he finally admits.
Swindle chuckles all the way. Then he checks his pockets. "I think I threw her too many shanix," he mutters.
"Of course she was all over me! Can you blame her? I'm gorgeous." Whirl doesn't really think that. At all. He actually finds himself a bit repulsive but whatever, Blast Off seems to be into it and that's good enough for him. "Heheh, thanks. Not bad for someone who didn't know what they were doing, eh?"
As they exit the bar, Whirl looks over at the following Swindle. "So uh.. is it cool if I take him or.. do you want to take him back to your secret Combaticon base or whatever?"
Swindle strokes his chin. "Blast Off, do you want to come home with me, or with Whirl?" he asks, though this is probably the worst time ever to ask such a question.
Blast Off grins as Whirl calls himself gorgeous, not catching the irony in his drunken state. Thing is, he thinks Whirl *is* gorgeous. Love is blind... or maybe love lets people look past obvious flaws and see beauty that's within. "...I know."
"You were grrreat, Whirl." Keep in mind Blast Off IS drunk. "Bestest dance ever." He just hangs there, draped over Whirl's shoulder, then looks up at Swindle. Or all three of Swindle- there seem to be triplicates. "Oh, Whirl can take me home anytime~..." He starts giggling again.
"Ok, sure, you can pack him back to your place," Swindle says, "But I don't want to wake up after recharge to find out that Blast Off has offlined on his own fuel tank purge."
"That's.. that's not even a double entendre. Is it?" Whirl thinks about it for a moment then shrugs. "Whatever, you're drunk. I have serious doubts you'll even remember this conversation tomorrow." He considers recording this just so he can see for himself how wasted he was.
"Heh, don't worry." Don't worry. Yeah, don't worry about WHIRL of all people doing something stupid or screwing up in some major way. "He'll be fine. I'll send him back over to you guys once he's sobered up."
Blast Off has given himself in to this situation and simply tries to make the best of it now, resting his head on the back of Whirl's shoulders and enjoying the warmth. He alternates between the occasional *huff* or giggle, but there's little rhyme or reason to them anymore. "I'm in good hands... er, claws~..." More giggling. Ok, there WAS reason for that one.