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Whisperwind Sunstreaker Shark Jazz Lifeline Tracks Prowl

Whisperwind continues to hold out the cube to Sunstreaker. Not forcing it, but not taking it back either. "Because everyone needs someone to hang onto--and if not someone, then something," he replies quietly, looking serious and perhaps... just a touch envious. "I'm not helping you because I expect anything back. I'm doing it because I want to."

Sunstreaker frowns a bit, then takes the energon cube with a slight nod. "I can get that." He pauses. "If you see my brother... tell him I'm sorry." Then his expression turns just the slightest bit sour. "Just... don't let anyone else know. He'll go on for a while, but..." He sighs. "Look, never mind. Thanks."

Whisperwind nods once, not asking for any further info and leaving things be. "I will let him know, though I hope you find him first. If you need my help, ask for Whisperwind--someone will direct you back to me." He bows to Sunstreaker. "May Primus watch over you."

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Jazz hmms softly, sounding just a tad out of it, "Yo Prowl! You awake, mech?"

Shark has returned to Cubricon, again covered head to foot in dirt and oil.. looking the part of a scavenger that has seen slightly better days. This of course hides his Bot symbols nicely. He strolls through the town, taking things in, observing all he sees and making mental notes. Yeah just trying to blend in.

Lifeline steps out of the heavily shuttered building, having been sequestered in there for a while now.

Sunstreaker shifts his stance a little. The very young mech is unsure of what to do at this point, and it's visible in his posture and facial expression. "Right. Whisperwind. Got it." Another shift. For all the tough facade he puts on, he's just a kid. "Uh... same to you, I guess?"

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Jazz transmits, "Psh, freakin' logical processor probably still glitched, and this is why bots-- I dun deal with logic! Anyhow, got the name on the loons who decided ta try and take out ol' hide.. so.. yea.."

Whisperwind chuckles softly and nods, standing up straight once more. Of course a kid wouldn't know some of the more formal greetings and farewells... but perhaps he'll learn someday. Nice to know. "Indeed. Just stay safe and keep your wits." Though if the kid's lasted this long, he definitely has wits, if not a bit of luck. "Until next time, Sunstreaker."

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Jazz transmits, "Oh yea-- and if ya see any dead bodies, ain't my fault either!"

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Whisperwind deadpans, "Are you sure you aren't overcharged, sir?"

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Jazz hmms as if debating on that, ".. Maybe a weeee bit.. yea..."

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Whisperwind transmits, "...Then perhaps you should shut down your radio until you're no longer drunk?"

Shark mutters something under his breath, completing the picture of a scavenger that may just be a bit mental. Of course the mutter was something along the lines of 'shut up, shut up, shut up.'

Lifeline locks the doors to the clinic building and turns to stomp toward El Sleazo. If possible, she looks even angrier than she did earlier in the day.

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Jazz transmits, "...nah!"

Sunstreaker finally flashes a grin. One Whisperwind's probably seen before, on a different mech. "Luck's something he has in disgusting amounts of supply. Idiot's a pain, but he's what he is..." All he has left.

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Prowl transmits, "...dead bodies?"

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Jazz transmits, "Prowl! Buddy! mech-o-logic!"

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Jazz transmits, "Yea, cause ya know-- gangs.. dead bodies, all that /good/ stuff, but yea-- we got the name on the gang that try to bang our main man, ya followin' my gig so far, mech?"

Shark smacks his right hand on his left forearm, "SHUT UP!!" he yells.

Whisperwind does let his door wings fold back onto his back as he finally stops just at the exit to the Abyss. "Luck's something you both have, and pray you never run out of it in these times--or ever," he notes with a chuckle, barely noting the radio chatter over his radio as he fully turns to face Sunstreaker. "Now, go on and get going. The sooner you get to Sub-Iacon, the better. Am I right?" He ignores the echoes of Shark's outburst.

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Prowl transmits, "I can't be one hundred percent sure, but I believe so."

Sunstreaker huffs a bit, glancing toward where he needs to be headed. "Yeah. Can't argue with that logic." He rolls his shoulders, making his way away from the bar. With any luck, he won't get stopped on his way.

Whisperwind nods slowly and watches Sunstreaker go, then leans his back against the building and opens his radio. Primus, what a bunch of idiots Autobots can be sometimes... It is common for two mechs to walk in drunk into a bar, or two mechs to walk out drunk. Random dudes with no lives.. however for a Jazz to walk out of the bar twirling a light pole his arms and doing a little dance skit drunk, is a whole nother matter entirely. However that does last long(thank primus), before he just leans on the pole and stares out at the world with that visor of his. Scanning-- scanning-- locating, who knows what, and one be nearly afraid to ask in this state. Jazz needs a label right now that says this: Warning: Will bite when drunk.

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Whisperwind transmits, "This is /Cubicron/, sirs. This isn't a place where you can just walk in and not expect to have every weapon known to Transformers--legal or not--pointed at you because you have an insignia. As for the gang in question, it's a small group called the Cube City Cruisers. Old gang, small-scale, but usually connected to one of the larger mobs."

Shark continues his little walk, seeing he has a few Cubriconians looking at him and whispering to each other. Yeah that's right, buy his little ploy.. all part of the scheme.

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Jazz transmits, "Yea so, Whisp and I got tha' name of tha group, so now we-- yea.. what whisp said!"

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Prowl transmits, "And what is Ironhide's status...?"

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Jazz transmits, "ask the crazy femme.. doc--"

<Radio-MIL-AUT> Whisperwind transmits, "In a local medical bay under Lifeline's care, and I'm certain he's in no state to be moved just yet with the damages he took."


Lifeline stomps grouchily toward El Sleazo, hoping to find at least one Autobot moron still there. Her fees for the emergency repairs on Ironhide are going to be rather high, but damnit, she saved the fool mech's life AND did so under rather stressful circumstances. Namely, that coward Galagatron was there pestering almost the ENTIRE time.

Sunstreaker /is/ somewhat distracted by the angry femme stomping past him, and he turns slightly to look. What can anyone say? He's a youngster. Youngsters have a tendency to stare.

Shark spots the doc moving toward the bar and moves toward her despite that stomping and look like she's going to kill someone, "Doc, got something for you." Trust the young warrior to have something for the doc, again. Lifeline shall seek, Lifeline shall find. Jazz is still hanging by the doors, cooling down from his energon-spike due to.. earlier activities regarding some questioning methods.. which by Autobot standards would be done.. questionably.

Prowl steps into position next to Jazz - for some reason Prowl's battle computer is tells him the Autobot Intel expert may require backup - and raises a hand slightly in greeting to Lifeline. "Excuse me...can you give us an update on Ironhide's condition?"

Lifeline stomps straight toward Jazz, not paying the young mech (Sunstreaker) or Shark any mind. She stops in front of the pair of black and white mechs, full glower already firmly in place. "Who the FRAG thought it was a good idea to just wander on into Cubicron as if you own the place? Hm?"

Shark stops where he is as he spots not only Prowl, but Jazz. Yeah not good if they spot him, he'll just go hide over in this alleyway over here.. yeah... that'll work. Jazz points over to Prowl, "One-- his idea, two--" Points to himself, "I've been workin' here for a long time," Then points at Lifeline, "Three-- ya go some pretty optics, ya know that?" Then he hrms and slightly ducks behind Prowl, moving his door panels just so, so he hides better behind the Tactical officer.

Prowl returns the glowering look with a considering one. His gaze flicks around to take in the others present while Jazz answers. When the other Autobot is finished, Prowl adds, "I can understand that's how it may have looked, but we did have a better plan then that." He frowns, then admits, "Things didn't exactly go according to that plan." He shakes his head, then asks again, "Ironhide?"

Tracks comes out of the finishing touch, following out a client until he spots the gathering of Autobots. Oh slag me, he thinks to himself. He quickly calls to the owner that he's taking his energon break now before he quickly hurries over to the group.

Shark is like John Cena on WWE.. you don't see him! ;)

Lifeline hmphs at Prowl, taking what looks like an ominous step closer. "Your fragging idea of a good plan has just become even more expensive. That damn fool mech's FUEL PUMP took a hit." She's now RIGHT in Prowl's face. However, instead of trying to press it, she reaches over the stoic mech's shoulder to snag Jazz by the shoulder or noggin or whatever part of him is within reach. "And you. You had better dry out RIGHT now because you are THIS close to making me angry."

Prowl says with seemingly infinite patience (and quiet determination), "So what is Ironhide's condition now?" After a second he adds, "To both of us, it's the first and most important issue..." A calculated response to appeal to the sort of logic most medics can appreciate or at least respect. Jazz yelps as he gets yanked around his fellow white and black mech, by the horn no less! "Hey hey hey!" He quickly removes her hand and then places his index finger right in her face, "No reason ta get rough and just answer prowl's question-- cause he won’t stop till he gets it." Then Jazz grumbles something about Lifeline being worse than Ratchet on a /good/ day.

Shark watches on from the dark alleyway, just leaning up against a wall. He is patient, he can wait.

Tracks glares at the group as he draws closer, "Primus almighty beneath us, what is wrong with you Jazz." He spits out through clenched dental plates, "You can't be here, NOT after what happened!?" Jazz glances over to Tracks, "What happened with tha' what now?" The Operations Officer seems completely confused by Tracks comment, and yes-- he gets that easily distracted.

Lifeline snaps her answer at Prowl, even though it's Jazz getting the death glares. "He'll be fine. He's in recharge now and will be at least until morning. And this is the repair fee." She holds up a data chip in Prowl's face.

Prowl takes the data chip dutifully. A panel on his forearm slides open so he can plug it in but before he even sees what's on it, he's nodding. He says mildly, "Of course." He looks between Tracks and Jazz, then back at Lifeline. "You'll have your payment, and our thanks."

Tracks gets closer to Jazz, leaning into his Audio, "You Autobots are kicking up quite the fuss around here, and you keep attracting the attention of the wrong mechs."

Shark checks to see if any of them are looking his way, then sneaks out of the alleyway. Moving slowly so he doesn't draw any sort of attention. He's got things to be doing other than watch Jazz get his come uppance. Jazz mehs softly, seeming to be getting himself back to normal, "Part of my job really, not his." Motioning to Prowl. "Honestly, if they want my head, they can come and get it, cause that one group--" Which he looks to Prowl as he says this, "--Ain't gonna be walkin'." Then looks to Lifeline, dead serious as he says this, "And Cubicron, last I checked was a neutral area-- alliances don't mean slag down here, so when I am down here, I ain't no Autobot on full time duty, that means, right now, even more so then ever, I'm on my own side." Jazz's visor then flickers, "Those revin' punks think they can get away with tryin' ta take down Ironhide-- they picked the wrong fence to trifle with and the wrong bot ta do it around." Jazz then walks away from the whole group together.

"Keep in mind, I ain't sayin' this as a bot, but I'm sayin' this as Jazz. Former Thief of Cubicron and once a lil' cyber-street rat-- This city once ta screw with us, then bring it. Cause I'll snipe down every single one of 'em, till there is only one standing, and that is me!" Then he seems to walk off into an alley.

You paged Lifeline with 'I'd give this to you directly icly, but with all that I think Shark here is gonna leave you his little surprise at the medical facility for you to find. It's a box of parts, and I mean a big box of them. There's a note in there that says 'from a friend' but no signature. cool?'

Lifeline looks about to try and deal with Jazz's inebriation when he gets himself together on his own. She just glowers at his proclamation and REALLY hopes that no one else heard it, then with the smallest nod of acknowledgement to Tracks turns to head back to her clinic.

Tracks glares at Jazz, "The neutrality of the city is SHIFTING, and NOT in your favor Autobots..."

Lifeline (LL) pages: That works. :) Lifeline will likely wonder who it's from briefly, but the lack of turbo rat parts will cut Reliquary out of the running. ;)

Tracks says, "This is FAST becoming Decepticon territory." Jazz's visor peers from the shadows of the darkness, "..let 'em come. I dealt with this before.. I'll deal with it again. After all," He started laughing-- almost.. demonically, "I'm espionage--this is what I do best!" Then it seems he is fully gone.

Lifeline stops at that and looks back at Tracks. "Fragging politics. This is FREE land. NEITHER is welcome here." She goes back to stomping away from the others.

Tracks shakes his head, "Then how is it the Decepticons are growing increasingly bolder in this city, there's talk among some gangs of becoming fully allied with them."