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Psykeout Swivel

Psykeout walks through the town, the scrap wires and broken glass getting caught underneath his boots. As he walks, a smile grows on his face. It's almost as though he's proud of himself for doing something, but what that twisted mind has concocted is up to debate. Perhaps it's nothing more than a simple transfusion. Perhaps it's total dismemberment of an Autobot. His recent 'surgeries' have patched him up nicely. He still has the patch covering his optic, but his feet and arm have been replaced.

An ener-cig hangs out of his mouth, a glass of energon in his hand as he walks...not a care in the world and not expecting anybody to come near.

Expectations are foolish notions in a world such as this. It isn't long before the silence is broken by the distant sound of someone calling. It's too far to really tell what is being said at first, but as the sound comes closer, the shrill voice seems to be crying out a name.

"Cylinder! Cyl! Please, come out of hiding! CYL! CYLIIIINDEEEEER! I HAVE GOOODIIES!"

Psykeout cringes at the sound and trips over a random piece of metal on the ground. The ener-cig falls out of his mouth and the glass falls out of his hand, "Slag it all to Primus..."

Psykeout casts a glance over his shoulder and hears the voice calling. It sounds familiar. Too familiar. It's...her. The one that deformed him. The one that caused him to be disfigured. A snarl crosses his lips, as he steps into one of the buildings and crouches behind one of the windows, craning his head so that one optic can keep track of the things that are going on.

Yelling, calling, coaxing continues for a while, sometimes drifting further away, sometimes coming closer. Finally the diminutive femme steps into view, her hands raised to her mouth as she continues to call. No one seems to be responding despite her cries, however. She finally lets her hands hang at her sides, seeming discouraged.

Psykeout watches in silence as Swivel finally comes to a halt. She's just out of range, however. Too far to shoot. Too far to do anything to exact revenge. No...must bring her closer. Psykeout tweaks his vocoder slightly, in order to sound more like Arcee, "Swivel...help..."

He continues to watch silently, keeping tabs on the femme. She's not dangerous...just crafty. Too many times she's managed to escape his grasp. No longer. Now is the time for it to come to a head...

Swivel shifts her weight pensively, looking around for a moment. It looks as if she is about to head in one direction, only to wheel around on her heel and go into another. After a few paces she stops, hearing the cry for help. She pauses a moment, looking around. "Hello?"

Psykeout smiles, continuing the charade, "I'm over here, Swivel...in the building....help me...

Swivel stands with her head cocked to the side, listening for a response. She rubs her upper arm where a thin cylinder rests, and then makes her way to the direction of the voice. "I'm coming! Do you need me to call a medic?" she calls out as she heads for the building, her optics wide and with curiosity.

Psykeout pauses, thinking for a moment. A medic would mean more mechs. No. No medic. How to make it convincing? His optics flicker softly and he blurts out, still in the femme's voice, "I...I don't think so. If you could just help me back to Iacon, I think I'll be all right..."

Swivel pauses in her advance. "Iacon? That's.... yer a far way from Iacon! Lemme jus' call oner ther 'Bots ter come gecha, kay? I ain't real good at carryin' people 'round."

Psykeout snarls, perhaps a bit too loud. "No, no...I just need some help standing up. There's enough spare parts around, I can fix myself." He hopes she doesn't know that Arcee doesn't have the least bit of knowledge when it comes to repairs...

Swivel remains paused for a moment, then slowly places one hand behind her as she continues to come forward. "Aight, I kin do tha'. Did the building cave in on ya or somesot?" Swivel asks conversationally as she heads into the building, her senses alert.

Psykeout 's voice wavers slightly, "Yeah...These old buildings..." The voice drifts off as soon as Swivel steps through the doorway. Psykeout sneaks over to the door, hoping to keep out of her optic's range, "I finally have..." He drifts off, realizing that the vocoder is still in Arcee's voice. He makes a few tweaks and continues, "I finally have you cornered, Swivel. All the pain and destruction that you have caused me comes to this. NOW I have you. NOW I will destroy you. NOW I WILL EXACT MY REVENGE!"

Swivel is looking about herself frantically for the source of the voice, shifting to get her back to a wall as soon as possible. When the voice changes to an all familiar one, she lets out a startled "EEEEK!", raising an arm defensively.

Psykeout’s smile grows slightly, "Yes." He pushes his arms to block any possible exit through the door, pulling a laser pistol out of subspace, "Don't even TRY to go through the window. I've been practicing and have no issue shooting you directly in the optic. Make you cease functioning for the rest of eternity...Oh, wouldn't that be delightful. Maybe I should just remove your foot? Maybe your arm? Sound familiar?" His smile morphs into a sneer, "You disfigured me, Swivel. You offered no apology. You offered no assistance. Instead, you just attacked a weakened Decepticon..."

Swivel keeps her optics on Psykeout, paying attention to his every move and yet never tearing her gaze from his optics. Whoops. Optic. She continues to move away slowly, keeping her back against the wall at all times. "What if I apologize now?" she squeaks.

Psykeout laughs. The sound would remind one of cyber-rats being shoved en masse into a shredder. "Your apology NOW? It's a little late, don't you think? It's like a kidlet that stole an ener-bar, ate it and then was chastised by Optimus to go and apologize. It's a little too fraggin' late, Swivel. The time has passed. You could have radioed. You could have sent message with a fraggin' gumby. But did you? No. You ignored me. After everything that we've been through, you ignored me and left me to die...

Swivel jumps a little when she realized she literally backed herself into a corner. She risks a quick glance to her surroundings before returning her gaze to Psykeout. "One... I don't have access to Polyhex, where I was told you were taken to. Two, your radio was offline! Three, I wasn't really going to apologize anyway because I did nothing wrong, save for trying to help you!"

Psykeout moves quicker than the optics can be up with and appears in front of Swivel, "You've got no chance now, Swivel. I've got you in my optic. The things that I am going to do to you are going to make Megatron salivate with pleasure and excitement. To have a neutral stripped down to bare parts...Oh, how I have dreamed of this day, Swivel. How I have dreamed about ripping you limb from limb..."

Swivel makes a little squeak when Psykeout is suddenly in front of her. She puts out a hand, palm out. "Don't come any closer. We can talk this out, nice and civil-like. I'm not so certain I'd be very useful ripped limb from limb, and I don't think you really want me dead either."

Psykeout snaps, "Talk...Talk it out...TALK IT OUT?! Swivel...The time for talking is over," He puts the pistol away and pulls out a laser scalpel, "I want to hear you beg. No. I want to hear you scream. I want to hear you scream until you can't scream anymore. I want you to feel the same pain that I've felt for these past few cycles. After you cut off my arm and my foot...ripped out my optic. I want to return the favor, Swivel...I will come close, oh yes, I will come closer than you ever wanted."

As promised, he takes a step closer, putting his arms on either side of her, just low enough so that she can't get away without a fight.

Swivel straightens up as she flattens herself against the wall when Psykeout comes closer. She turns her head away for a moment, but then quickly jerks it back to facing him. Her lips curl in and she narrows her optics slightly, setting her chin with a look of determination. "I did none of those things. If you want to torture me because it gets you jolly, then.... well it's not okay, but do NOT pretend like it is vengeance or justice. You are a twisted mech Psykeout, I know that, and long accepted it. No need for your stupid pretense of revenge, because I'm innocent, always have been, and always will be!"

Psykeout leans back slightly, "Trying to talk your way out of this, are you? It's not going to work. He brings his right hand down, the one away from the door and brushes the side of Swivel's face, "Such a pretty face you have. It's going to be so sad to see it in pieces." Without warning, he grabs her wrist with his other hand and wrenches it as hard as he can, "Just want to make sure you don't go anywhere..."

Swivel stiffens at the touch of Psykeout's hand, her optics darting madly about before looking back at his marred face. She's about to say something, when her wrist is seized, and as her arm is yanked she stumbles forward with the motion. The arm seems to be quite securely fastened into its socket. "Of-of course I'm trying to talk my way out of it, what else can I do? But I didn't do these things to you Psykeout! Why won't you believe me?"

Psykeout sneers, "Believe your lies? Why would I want to do that?" He brushes the side of her face again, leaning his face in close...almost close enough to kiss. His mouth opens, sharpened teeth appearing behind the sneered lips and he's headed straight for her cheeks...

Swivel tries to pull her head away when he touches her again. However, when his face gets so close, she starts shaking her head side to side as she attempts to wiggling her wrist free of his grasp.

Psykeout grabs her face, his thumb on one cheek and his fingers on the other. He leans forward and bites down on her lips (or just one?)

Swivel makes a nasally sound of complaint when she feels his teeth digging into her lower lip. She stops shaking her head lest her lip get torn off, but she continues to try and get her wrist free, movements marred by the fact that she is trembling all over.

Psykeout pulls back and rips off her lip, then spits it out on the ground. He cocks his head to the side, still staring her directly in the optics and watching the fluid flowing from her wound, "You going to scream for me, Swivel? You going to let me hear that pathetic voice beg for me to stop?" His grip tightens on her face, pulling her closer, "Or would you prefer that I continue?"

Swivel lets out a squeak as her lips is torn off, and there are a few strangled sounds deep from her vocoder as she resists the urge to scream. She looks up at Psykeout with large, sad optics, her chin quivering as fluids dribble down it. "Sto.... Stoff it!" Swivel tries to say, but with the lack of a lower lip, her speech is encumbered. This demand is punctuated with her bringing up her free hand to try and push his face away, while at the same time bringing up a knee for an unfriendly rendezvous with the inside of his thigh.

Psykeout stares at the sad optics, grinning with a sadistic pleasure that only he can truly enjoy. Her hands grasp at his face, but never really catch with anything. They only succeed in annoying him. Her knee, on the other hand, catches him off-guard and he falls to a knee. However, with her wrist in his hand, he wrenches it as hard as he can, attempting to pull her down to the floor as well.

Swivel teeters, having not really thought that one through, as her wrist is pulled down. She stamps her foot hard, pulling against his grip for a straining moment, but it's in vain as she topples over, a groan of protest coming from the joint of her shoulder as she lands hard on her back, bouncing a little due to her tires, and then settling on her side, facing away from Psykeout, her arm awkwardly bent backwards.

Psykeout pushes himself off of the ground, bringing his foot around and jamming it just next to her shoulder joint, "Now is the time for redemption..." He pulls as hard as he can...

Swivel gets her dental plates as she feels her arm being pulled on, the pressure just by her shoulder causing painful strain. "HFINE! Ya want 'y arn?!" Swivel exclaims, grabbing a screwdriver out of a compartment. She jabs it at such an angle between the seams of her armor, and there is a loud popping noise. "TAKE IT!" she yells as the arm comes free very suddenly. Swivel tries to roll away and get to her feet, ready to sprint away, abandoning a piece of herself like some sort of reptile.

Psykeout falls back on his aft, Swivel's arm in his hand and a surprised look on his face, "Not...quite what I expected..." He watches as she gets to her feet, knowing full well that he can't move fast enough to keep her from leaving.

And she's off! As she makes way to the exit, Swivel can be heard shouting "Enjoy!" with just a bit of distortion due to her lack of a lip. The femme certainly can run fast, though.

Psykeout snarls...