October 05, 2011
(Red Guardian Inn, Iacon)
Horizon had been lightly conversing with a particularily bright yellow waitress only lightly as he finished up a cube of soft energon. The conversation is kept polite and casual, and more importantly, brief. Once she leaves to go tend to other customers, he glances up to Robustus. "The service here /is/ friendly," he remarks.
Robustus had be observing the interaction quietly, not really adding anything into it other than to ask for another mid-grade enerwine for himself. "Thank Primus for that." he mumured back to his escort, "Only so much harrassment I can take in one cycle."
Horizon inclines his head, frowning ever so slightly. "I would imagine so. I am not sure I would be quite so patient in your circumstances. However, I understand it is your only real choice if you do not wish to make more trouble for yourself." Horizon glances down at his energon that had already been half finished before the waitress left.
Robustus inclines his head to Horizon, "Patience is the hallmark of being a medic. But there are times when it was sorely tested by patients who were acting like they were reliving their sparkling years." He pauses to sip on his second drink and exvents slightly, "I think I can handle it a bit longer yet, but being free of Iacon and living my life again is something I both dread and hope for..."
Enter the messenger! Swivel makes her way into the Red Guardian with a gait that demonstrates a sense of purpose as opposed to leisurely strolling in. Her lack of a sigil does not really warrant very many second glances, since the Inn actually has seen quite a few neutrals come and go. If her intel was correct, and intel is used lightly to mean asking everyone who will give her the time of day about Robustus, he should be somewhere in here. AH! During a sweeping glance of the room, Swivel spots out Robustus, and wanders over to his table. She glances at the other mech to be polite, but then looks to Robustus with an expectant look. "'Scuse me..."
Horizon leans back in his seat, leaving one hand rested on the table top. "I have felt a similar anxiety before, when I returned to Cybertron after an offworld expedition." He doesn't feel the need to say more on that, especially when he senses someone approach. He slides his now empty cube over to be cleared away, and then suddenly realizes the femme next to them is not a waitress.
Robustus turns to look toward Swivel, "Yes?" he asks softly.
Swivel glances between the two mechs before lifting her chin and turning her full attention upon Robustus. "I gotter message fer ya. It's kinner personal, though, so's if ya wanner step inter anudder rom or iffin jus' an empy corner.... or if ya dun mind summun else hearin' it, tha's fine also. Jus' whichever ya prefer..." She then allows her gaze to shift back over to Horizon one more time with uncertainty. She was vaguely away of him being an officer with some rank, but had never really met the mech himself or known much about it.
Horizon raises his optic ridges as he hears the femme ramble on, and yet, nowhere in all that is the proposed message. He narrows his visor like optics for a moment. He recognized the femme well enough as one of the neutrals that had sought sanctuary in Iacon for a time. His optics then glance over to Robustus and he inclines his head, as if giving preemptive permission for him to seek out somewhere quieter. He does point to his optics, however, to remind Robustus to stay within his sight.
Robustus frowns slightly, then looks toward Horizon as if considering the other mech then shifts his silver gaze back toward Swivel, "He may hear the message miss, I have nothing to hide from the Autobots." he intones.
Swivel tilts her head at this, and then hesitantly goes on to say, "You sure? It's really kinner personal."
Robustus repeats, "I'm sure. State your message."
Horizon watches Swivel, but then gets out a datapad and busies himself, muttering a little under his breath. Perhaps this is courtesy knowing it isn't his business if it is indeed personal.
Horizon radios Prowl: Prowl, sir. That femme, Swivel, showed up at the Inn, claiming to have a message to Robustus. It may be nothing, but I felt you should be updated promptly.
Prowl radios Horizon: Understood. Monitor all communication between them and retrieve a copy of the message if at all possible.
Horizon radios Prowl: I will do so, sir.
Swivel frowns and prepares herself to be the bearer of bad news. She draws herself up, dims her optics a little, and then tries to speak in her most tender tone. "Your lover was executed."
Reaction from the mech? It doesn't occur right away, there's a moment of slowly soaking in that information. Then his world figuratively crashes around him. He gives Swivel a nod of his head, tone oddly even though the expression upon his face shows that the sadness is building, "I had hoped she would avoid that.." he dims his optics down so they look like tarnished pewter now, "Who told you this?"
Horizon does not show any reaction to this news, and just remains busy with a little clerical work on the side.
Swivel frowns watching Robustus' slow reaction. She curls in her lips slightly before relaxing them and rolling her shoulders. "I'm sorry for yer loss. But... I cannae tell ya names. All I'm gonner say is pink optics." She shifts her weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably.
Robustus's hand with the drink in it is trembling by now, "Yes... I know who that is. Thank you miss for the message." he murmurs softly, then looks away from the femme. The hand that was relaxed on his thigh now balls into a fist, optics nearly powered down. Facial features dropping into full on sorrow.
Horizon glances up over the top of his datapad at Robustus, taking in his reaction, but his expression is unchanged. There will be no compassion from this quarter it would seem. After studying Robustus for a moment or two, he mutters again and goes back to his work.
Horizon radios Prowl: Update on the situation. The message was, ver batum, "Your lover was executed." When asked who sent the message, Swivel refused to give names, but did refer to the source of the message as 'Pink optics' and Robustus seemed to know who she spoke of.
Swivel frowns fully, unsure whether to slink away and leave the mech to his sorrow, or try to help. She reaches out a hand as if to place it on Robustus' shoulder, then pauses, a face swelled up with uncertainty and compassion. Finally she finishes the connection and applies gentle pressure to the mech's shoulder with her weak, small hands.
Prowl radios Horizon: Understood. The message appears harmless for now, but continue to monitor communication and update me with anything further.
Horizon radios Prowl: I will sir. If anything suspicious or pertinent occurs, I will tell you immediately. Regardless, I will record my observations.
Robustus certainly would not expect compassion from any Autobot considering his contact thus far with them. Not even from Horizon, even if the mech didn't seem against his presence here. The contact though draws his dimmed optics back to Swivel, giving her a little nod of thanks as he releases the glass in his hand in favor of placing it on his chest above his spark.
Horizon glances over his datapad again, watching Swivel carefully, particularily her the hand she placed on Robustus. His optics seem to be carefully examinging her other hand as well, and keeping track of Robustus' movements.
Swivel tightens her grip just a little more before releasing the pressure Robustus' shoulder, changing instead to rubbing in slow, soothing patterns. She mutters again in a low voice. "I really am sorry for your loss... anythin' I kin do fer ya? Any message ya wan me ter send back... or...?"
Robustus considers those words while trying very hard not to show the full affect of this news is having upon him. Sadness and anger at war within his form, causing him to tremble all the more. "I thank you for the offer." his tone very light and edged with more sadness than anger, "But I will grieve in my own way.. alone.. as it should be. It is best to leave the one that bore this message via you alone lest the identity of that one is exposed. The retribution of even getting that message to me, should it ever be found out, would be as brutal as my beloveds... and another dying because I helped save First Aid.. I could not bear it."
Swivel gives his shoulder a few more rubs, feeling the trembling, and then a pat on his shoulder. "If that is your wish..." she says, and then brings her head lower, whiserping, "I know it cost you dearly.... but thank you so much for helping First Aid. If there is anything else I can ever do," Swivel says, dropping her gutterspeach, "...anything at all, even not to do with this.... just let me know. Your sacrifice wasn't in vain." She then straightens up again. "Well, I best git on 'en. I, uh, well, there's... I got things ter do an..." she glances at the door, looking awkward. "...yeah...'n stuff."
Horizon lowers his datapad a little, looking out past Swivel, reaching out and waving a waitress over. Very quietly, he orders an enerwine for Robustus and sends the waitress on her way with a meaningful look so that she does not loiter and chat this time. He then returns his attention to his work.
Robustus inclines his head toward the femme, "I'll keep it in mind." he notes quietly, then looks toward Horizon, "If you don't mind, I'd like to go back to my room now and have some time to grieve." Hoping the mech would understand he wanted to be alone for awhile.
Swivel nods a few times, turns and nods to Horizon in acknowledgement, trying to be proper, and turns and scurries out of the Inn, seeming to move with more haste to leave than she did when entering.
Horizon inclines his head, exventing a slow sigh. "It is understandable." He waves the waitress back to cancel the order. He'll simply arrange his next order to be charged to him instead. "My condolences," Horizon adds as he rises to his feet. "I'll escort you to your room, but otherwise leave you to your grieving."
Robustus rises to his feet, nodding toward this escort, "Thank you." he states as he moves ahead of the mech, trying his best not to let the full emotion of sorrow show as he goes.