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Shark Torque Goa

Shark decided to come down to check out how much a freebie covered so is walking up to the Finishing Touch Parlor. He stops and knocks at the door, "Anyone about?"

A sound of clattering metals and shuffling feet was heard inside, so it's clear someone was running the shop. "Just a sec!" A familiar feminine voice calls as footsteps approach the other side of the door where a rectangular peephole slid open. "Hm? What can I do ya- Oh! It's you!" A single optics gazes at Shark through the slot, looking him up and down quickly before it is shut again and the door fully opens. "Glad to see yah took the offer. C'mon this way." Torque shuts the door securely when passing him, waving a hand for him to follow her to the side garage. The femme presses a few buttons upon a wall mounted keypad and stands back to let the large door swing up.

Shark nods his head to the optic looking him over with an almost assessing gaze. "Yeah could say that I'm looking for some work." he remarks. Then follows you to the large door. "Was hoping to at least get my chin fixed to see how you work is before I considered something else." he explains.

Torque smirks softly, leading him into the shop, which appears more like today's car repair shops and less like an actual medical facility, but at least it was clean sans the oil stains upon the floor. "I gotcha. Have a seat." She pats one of the few medical tables raised up from the floor, moving to one of counters and grabbing a metal box before coming back.

Shark looks around, just assessing things before he sits on the indicated table. "I usually would have someone else look into this... but since she was the one that put my chin down to the facial superstructure I felt it wiser to try someone else. Your timing was rather serendipitous."

"Heh, think I've got an idea of who yer talkin' about. Not the nicest, is she?" Torque smiles softly, leaning in up close to Shark's face, a hand pushing up his chin a bit to get a better look as the goggles on her brim separate in half, fan out to the side, move down a few notches, and finally fuse back together over her optics. "Hmm... Not too bad, simple t' fix. Just lucky she didn't totally wreck your face. What in th'pit didja do to make her go off on yah?" Torque reaches for the box, pushing the top button to make it open up and fan out in tiers of medical supplies.

Shark lets you move him as you examine the remains of his chin. It just seems to add to his average looks only more so. Tack on that lovely little scar in his cheek. Not really a prize winner here. "She has her moments." he replies softly, "As to what I did.." he pauses to frown a bit, then sighs, "I nibbled on her neck with the teeth I don't have now. She took that from me too."

Torque can't help but snort softly in amusement at his excuse. "You did what? Heh, you sure are a femme's mech, aren't yah? Just hold still. Gonna sting, unless you wanna turn off your sensors." One hand grabs a precision welding tool, the femme sparking it to life and dialing it to a fine point, her other hand suddenly separating into several parts to allow it to reform into any other tool she needed. "Gotta close up that metal before I can put your face back together." She moves in again, the brim of her hat also breaking into parts before reforming into a welding mask over her face and around her goggles, allowing her to see.

Shark nods a bit to the question, then shrugs to the next. "I guess... I dunno." deciding it best to turn his pain receptors off for this procedure with a focused effort. "Not like I see my gal often enough to make any such a claim." Observing the interesting mini-transformations distracts him for a few moments, then he gets deadly still so he doesn't mess you up. Not daring to even speak now.

"Oooh, taken, eh? Who's your lady? That pink one I saw yah with at El Sleazo?" But Torque doesn't wait for an answer as she goes in, setting the welding tool to the exposed metal which caused metal to spark up and into her own face, though luckily the mask is protecting her. The femme works rather fast, her precision surprisingly in league with a long-time professional, making sure the melded metal is sealed properly and smoothly before straightening back up and turning off the tool. "Alright, that part's done. Now for th' molding step. And chin shape requests?" Torque chuckled heartily from behind her mask, tossing the welder back into the box and pulling out a small metal canister.

Shark sits quietly and very still as you work on the metal to make it more able to take on the next step of the process. He nods a little to the question, "Yeah, that's her." he reaches up to touch his hand to mid chest, "We spark bonded briefly, but I don't feel her. Maybe we did it wrong. Maybe we just weren't meant to be. I dunno." he sighs, looking a little sad. "Eh I'm not picky, whatever fits this face is fine."

"Well, at least you've got a girl at all." Torque holds a hand to Shark's chin again, turning it this way and that to try and get a scope of what would look good. "I seem to be a lil' too rough around the edges for most mechs, so I never had one." She opens the canister finally, tipping it to let a very loose, puddy-like substance pour into her hand. She then pretty much slapped it onto the missing part of his chin, using her fingers to mold it here and there, spreading it a bit farther onto his actual face so it could bond easier. Torque then pulls out a canister, spraying a colorless liquid on the chin that puffed up some into a grey, hard foam. Like caulk. "Alright, this is gonna activate the silicon to properly bond with your face and turn it the proper color. Just DON'T touch it for at least half a cycle. Then you can peel it off and you'll be good as new. The new stuff'll be a little sensitive at first, but it'll toughen up within an hour."

Shark let's Torque move his face this way and that to study what would fit that face in regards to his chin. "Yeah, but like I said I barely see her. Almost better off without her." he relates softly, then quieting again as she puts on the putty and forms it to whatever she thinks would look okay. He nods a bit to her cautionary words, "No touching." a pause though, "Rough around the edges?" he asks.

Torque nods, both hat brim and goggles moving back to their original places. "Yeah. Sure, most femmes are medics, but they're all clean n' proper 'n whatnot. I prefer t'get in the muck and grease, yah know?" She shrugs, putting the tools back into the box and closing it up. "Anyway, this one's free, like I said. But since you didn't get those teeth done I'll knock half off for when yah do."

Goa is not upset about cooling down a click after driving away from Polyhex at a bit of a breakneck speed. Attaining such high speed to soar over potholes is, while liberating for himself and his suspension, not so good for a freshly-replaced engine. He is, on the other hand, just a touch upset he isn't being followed. Some explainin' he'd have to do when he got back, for sure... In the meantime, hanging back a safe distance away, safety, security, is good enough. Yes.

A remarkably dusty green car idles up to the shop and stops, radiator hissing angrily. "Anybody home?"

Shark nods a little to that observation, "Most, but not all." as well he knows having run in a particular femme seeker. "Nothing wrong with muck or grease. Comes in handy for an impromptu disguise." then a nod to you, "Let me look at a reflection of myself, then I'll decide about the teeth. I feel a little.. I dunno.." then stops as he hears a voice call in. "Guess I should get out of the way eh?"

Torque smiles lightly, giving Shark a friendly bump on the shoulder with her fist, "True. But that's fine. If yah don't like it then I can just tweak it." Headphone antennae twitch slightly at Goa's voice outside the shop, making her lean to peek out the open door, "Hey there! C'mon in, your stuff's ready." The femme moves back to look at Shark, "You're not in the way, but if yah got other things then I won't stop yah. Hope to see you again soon for those teeth."

The distinct shoonk-sheenk of a transformation sequence buzzes from outside. The green, hawk-faced mech takes one careful step inside, then strolls forward, only throwing a quick glance around as opposed to his stare-down scan previous. His hands seem to be wringing against each other. "Great, good," Goa says, locking his optics on Shark and giving the mech a good look-over before turning to Torque, "A mech can forget how useful speed is." He looks down at his feet, then adds, "... how's the shop?"

Shark smiles a bit to the fist bump, then gets off the table. "Eh just avoiding the inevitable at the moment anyway. Gonna have to face Lifeline again sooner or later. Just dunno if she wants to hear it." he relates. Then turns to see a Con walk in, there's a momentary passage of a tightening of cables. "I think I'll be leaving." then heads past Goa.

Torque waves to Shark as he makes his leave, "Seeya. I'd say come back soon, but I wouldn't want yah gettin' hurt all the time." She chuckles softly before turning to Goa. "It's fine. Still standin'. Anyway, got your stuff right here." Torque heads for the back of the shop, a momentary sound of metallic clangs heard before coming back with his nicely gold chromed parts in hand, any stray light in the shop immediately catching the perfect shine. "You like?"

Goa steps aside, bowing forward -- graciously allowing the unfamiliar Autobot to pass, though his optics remain trained on Shark's back for some time. When he turns back to look to Torque's voice, his jaw hangs and his optics blink a little... That certainly /is/ gold. "I like." He bolts upright, hands held together in front of his chest excitedly. "Can you put them on, and I'll grab the payment from my subspace?" Goa glances over his shoulder once more. "... and can I ask who's the guy?"

Torque smirks, giving a mock salute with two fingers, "No problem. Just hold still." She lowers down on one knee, getting to work by removing his boot armor, fitting and tightening the pieces inside before securely closing it back up. As the femme does this she glances up to him from her position, "Just another customer." She smiles innocently, not willing to give away customer info. However her expression turned a little more serious, "You okay though? You seem kinda.. jumpy."

Goa chortles, in part to mask his nervousness about having his heels messed with. "I blew up a console and I think security is gonna be ticked that I have some key codes I shouldn't have." He wrings his hands again, fighting the temptation to shift whichever leg Torque isn't operating on. "The usual. I was planning to... lie low for a while anyway. I got some more questions for you." Goa's hands sit on his hips as he leans over to get a better look, just as a glimmer of thought crosses his optics. "... do you need a hand in the shop, by chance?"

"Heh, no place better to lie low than Cubi. This place has so many hiding criminals you could choke on 'em." Torque snorts softly with a smirk before standing, hands clanking against one another softly in a 'wiping' motion. His offer of helping made her give him a strange look however. "Help around the shop? Huh, never thought I'd hear a 'con say that. But alright cutie. You can go polish down the tables. They need a good shine." Her lips curl into a playful smile as she leans forward, poking his chest teasingly before turning back to go put away her supplies from before.

Goa takes an iota of a step back, and suddenly snaps back to his constant optical scanning to clarify the meaning of Torque's forwardness. In simpler Cybertronian, perhaps, he just doesn't like being touched. "Cutie...?" The mech smirks warily, then shrugs as he turns, snagging a cloth from a hanging rack in mid-step to the first table. The one he'd sat on last time, incidentally. "A Decepticon? We aren't all above handiwork." He blinks as his first swipe at the surface removes a thick layer of grime. "... 'specially when it keeps you alive ..." Goa mumbles as he works to just remove the top layer of muck, figuring he'll make a finer pass afterward.

"True enough. I s'pose the same goes for here. Sure, a lot of folks try and work or salvage things. But others are into the smuggling business. Hardly any dignity there compared to a hard day's work, in my opinion..." The femme sighs softly, setting her toolbox upon one of the many shelves before turning around to lean on the counter. "You said you had questions, though?"

Goa finishes with the surface and snaps the rag out haltingly, which -- now brings his attention to the floor, which is bearing the brunt of the grime assault. He makes a wheezing sort of whine-chuckle, then turns to look at Torque. "Oh, it's nothing... I was just curious about a couple things. Like color-shifting paint." A couple steps and he leans over to get another polishing rag, then knocks one of the dark slots above his optics with the rag-draped hand. "Sensor replacements." His arm draws whorls on the table in a steady, mechanical manner.

Torque raises a hand to run it through her short, cable hair and twirling a few strands around a finger. "Hmm.. Sensors I can do, but color-shifting paint seems a little out of this place's league. Maybe I can get some, though... Would have to visit the black market..." Her voice drifts off some during those last sentences, fingers twirling her hair a little tighter in thought.

Goa pauses a full tick. "Don't." He resumes, now about finished with the surface. It's not exactly reflective yet, but a little sand application will fix that in no time... "Go to the black market, I mean. Don't do that." He looks to see what Torque's doing now with a little frown on, then starts wiping out the details of the table. "What's the most complex sensor patch you've done?"

Torque blinks at the mech, a little surprised he'd caution against the black market. Guess he knew more about Cubicron than she first thought. "Most complex? Hm.. Well, I think that'd be like optics and neural stuff. Was a long time ago, though. Things like antennas and whatnot are a bit easier, though. Why? You need a specific kind?"

"Oh." The mech kneels, practically hiding behind the furniture emplacement as he scratches the gunk out of a particularly stubborn rivet. Goa peers up at Torque over the edge of the table. "I guess. I could give you the design files. But I dunno how much that is."

Torque was looking directly at him as he peers over the table, a smirk highlighting her face as she leans on the counter with arms crossed. "I'll make you a deal then. You come in when you have time and help me out in the shop and at the carwash. Not too hard. If yah do I'll give you the sensors for free since they're a little pricey in these parts."

Goa moves his entire perplexed face above the horizon of the platform and holds Torque's gaze for a moment before he stands and brushes himself off, for whatever good that'll do. One of his arms transforms and applies a blast of sand crystals to the rag in his hand, then back. He continues polishing, apparently deeply interested in the patterns it's making, the way he's staring at it. "This is Cubicron. How do you offer deals like that without being eaten alive, Torque?" His free hand shakes out, dispelling some oil he'd gotten off of the ground. "I mean, I accept, but..."

"The reason I don't get eaten alive is 'cause I don't offer these deals to everyone. Also, I know some people who're willing enough to donate parts and tools to help make life for folks in Cubicron a little easier. I do salvage and make my own parts, though. Saves money." Torque pushes herself upright on her feet, strolling over to the other side of the table and placing her hands upon it. "But you strike me as trustworthy, Goa. And that's hard to come by here, yah know?" She smiles softly, extending a hand, "We have a deal? I honestly could use the help."

Goa looks at one grease-ridden hand, then the other, then figures he may as well just offer a firm, if grungy handshake, considering Torque's profession. "Slagged if I know what gave you that impression, but I'm not gonna argue." He withdraws and looks at his hand, then wipes it rather ineffectually on the armor of his leg. "If I give you the data now, how long does it take you?"

Torque doesn't seem to mind the grunge at all, not even caring enough to clean it off. "A few cycles. Sensors always take a while to program. At least you'll get in some good hours here to make up for those cycles though, mm?" She chuckles softly, giving him a playful and light punch on the shoulder with a fist, though she actually seemed pretty strong for her size by the feel of it.

Goa nods accommodatingly. He, in turn, has better balance than his spindly legs would imply... though it could just be that punches roll easily off of rubber. The nervous darting of his eyes does not begin, as in his processor he now expects such energetic gestures -- his expression toward Torque belies as much, utterly unmoved. "I have duties topside, but... you knew that." The mech physically shrugs off the fog of his comparatively stoic attitude, smirking just a touch. "It's good to be underground again," he says, staring off into a corner of the workshop... "Oh. Should I... obscure this?" Goa motions both hands at his chest, framing the Decepticon brand. "It seemed to ... upset your customer. Customers."

Torque waves a hand dismissively, "Oh, I know that. Just whenever you get time is what I'm sayin'. But that? Hm." She muses to herself as she looks at his brand, daring to reach a hand over to follow the grooves with a finger unless he objects. "I could just magnetize a piece of metal and color it like you so you can just slap it on."

"If you want. Your shop." Goa points to the table, tapping his finger against it. "Not bad, huh?" The green mech's -- and Torque's, for that matter -- glinting reflection is clearly visible. In the middle, anyway. He already starts to move to the next platform. "Lucky you. I don't want to head back to military town proper 'till the mech that botched their hardware is good and unknown."

"Wow... Haven't seen 'em this clean in ages..." The femme gazes down at her reflection, side of her mouth curling up in a smirk. She wasn't one for vanity, not much caring about her appearance, but she actually enjoys the femme staring back as they both adjust their hats. "What? You mean like stay down in Cubi the whole time?" She looks up to him with a raised brow.

Goa shakes his helmet, back turned as he's now sloughing the debris from the next entry in his task. "I've got patrol in about a third of a cycle. Nothing saying I have to be in Polyhex. Not right now, anyway," he chuckles a bit darkly.