OOC NOTE FROM LOGGER: Since radio code was either broken or we forgot how to use them, direct radio transmissions in this log were done via pages. However, my auto-logger had been set to omit pages, so I later had to ask another player if they logged the whole scene, and input the radio transmissions the best I could. Transmissions are clearly marked. That is all.
The El Sleazo is having a somewhat dull cycle for a change, with few patrons and even fewer fights. Most of the patrons are notably lethargic, well past their limit, or are otherwise mopey and keeping to themselves. Thus, it is a contrast when the doors part and in enters Swivel, all smiles and positive vibes. However, the petite femme doesn't walk with her usual upbeat gait, but rather comes in with a slight limp, or so the keen observer would note.
Psykeout sits in the corner, as per usual, fondling a disembodied head. As he sticks his fingers in and out of the removed optics, his attention is drawn to the newest entrant to the El Sleazo Cafe. Swivel. The femme who has managed to delve into the deepest realms of his psyche. A smirk crosses his face and he tosses the head in Swivel's direction, taunting her much like a six-year old does when they are infatuated with someone.
Swivel had made it halfway to the bar counter when her peripheral caught a blur of movement. She swivels at her waist towards the oncoming object, catching it in both of her arms before really knowing what it was that was thrown at her, looking notably stunned for a moment. She slowly holds out the head and inspects it with squinted optics, before her optics spring open to their optimum aperture. She then looks over to whence it came, and the look of surprise is washed out and replaced with a look that says 'should have known' without her having to say a word. She sticks her two fingers into the emptied optic holes and then places her thumb securely just under the blunt nose and swings her arm back, then bowls the head back to whence it came. Of course, not being perfectly round, it skips and bumps off of its course, and comes to a stop along the legs of the table next to Psykeout's corner spot.
Psykeout's optics follow the head as it bounces through the bar, various patrons jumping out of their chairs as it rolls by. His optics are locked on the head as it rolls to a stop, before he turns back to Swivel. He raises a hand, motioning her towards the booth. A waitress comes over and asks him for his order. Instead of responding with a desire for a drink, he jams a laser scalpel directly in her waist. She bends over in half and in one fluid motion; he pulls the waitress under the table. Given the lack of presence in the El Sleazo Cafe, he honestly believes that nobody saw him. When her body is completely under the table, he manages to remove her head and place it in the booth directly next to him. Finished with his task, he puts his hands back on the table, laced together and a smirk still plastered on his face.
Swivel saw. She saw the whole thing. She just stares, putting a hand out, her mouth agape as if to protest, and then turns her head to the side as if to look away, but her optics stay focused on the scene despite common sense. She glances at the two exits before hesitantly walking over to Psykeout. Leaving now might hurt his feelings! She tiptoes over, her left hip not moving quite as fluidly as her right. "............Was that really necessary!?"
Psykeout rolls the head over and sticks his hand inside, making sure the fingers touch the appropriate spots. He pulls the head off of the booth and puts it in front of him, his voice three octaves higher, "It's okay, Swivel, I still function."
He tosses the head back into the corner, then turns back to Swivel, "It was necessary, actually. I've managed to run out of volunteers in Dead End and Cubicron. I needed a new volunteer to practice on," He pauses, then looks at her hip. Reaching a hand out, he tries to brush the side of it, "What happened there? Do you need me to help you out?"
Swivel just stares as Psykeout converts the freshly departed femme's head as a puppet, and her face screws up in a variety of transitional expressions, as if it can't decide whether to be mortified, disgusted, or just burst out into giggles. Finally Swivel lets out just a timid giggle as her gaze shifts back over to Psykeout, seeming uncertain how to proceed. Perhaps being apart so long has wiped away some of the desensitization, but not entirely. Once again, her face cycles through partially formed expressions, until she settles on a stern expression, at least, as stern as the doey femme could muster. ".....Well that was careless! If the wrong, people saw you, you'd get in deeper trouble than... well..." she trails off as she can't think of some comparison. "Well you'd just be in trouble, and who'd be there to bail you out!?"
Swivel's gaze drops only vaguely when his hand brushes against her hip, but she doesn't answer his question just yet, and just raises her attention back at his face, arching an optic ridge and crossing her arms over her chest.
Psykeout's smile grows ever so slightly, "Ever since that ship crashed a few cycles ago, I have been in deep trouble with the Decepticon empire. The level of trouble that I would be in for killing the waitress is nothing compared to the trouble that I am in currently. Why do you think that I spend my time here? Why do you think that I continue to stay in this corner?" He waves his hand, "No matter. There are more important things at hand," He reaches his hand out again, attempting to wrap it around her aft-plate and pull her hip closer to him, "We need to see what's going on in there. I promise I won't hurt you."
There is just a very slight tic under one of Swivel’s optics as Psykeout explains the sort of trouble he's in. "What... how does the ship crashing get YOU in trouble?" she asks, but her attention is quickly diverted to him grabbing at her, and she makes a small noise of stifled surprise as she is brought forward. On close inspect the hip and armor around it all look like they've been recently replaced. There are a few other areas where some damage was obviously patched quite recently. To confirm all this, Swivel explains "It's fine, I just got it repaired, but I always take time to get used to new connections."
A growl comes from the vo-coder of Psykeout as he thinks back to when this whole thing started, "It all started when the ship landed and something inside of the ship kept calling out a shorter version of my name. Megatron, for whatever reason, believe that I had something to do with it. I was responsible for this ship falling and I needed to give him a reason why some alien was asking for me. However, I don't have any information about it." He waves his hand and leans in to get a closer look at her armor, "Yes. Whoever did these repairs did a horrible job. You claim that it takes time to get used to the new connections, but there's something that been done wrong here."
He runs his hand up and down her leg, looking at the connections and armor replacement, "I can fix this and make it better for you. Instead of that horrible limp, it'd be just like it was a few mega-cycles ago. Good as new."
Swivel raises her optic ridges again and then glances off to the side for a moment. "Ah ha ha ha... oh... yeah... that... well... I guess I should have come looking for you myself when those 'Where is Psyke' transmissions started, but..." she trails off and gives a small shrug. "If I had, I probably could have helped clear things up for you... that is... if Megatron would consider me a reliable source. I'd been working with Deet trying to find her pilot, but... we lost touch before she went KABOOM!" Swivel tries to move her hip away from Psykeout.
"At any rate... the repairs were started by a medic in training, but he's a dear, so I'd feel bad having someone go in there and correct things. I'm already getting used to it, anyway!"
Psykeout's optic ridges both raise as high as possible, his voice drops a few octaves, "MEDIC....IN....TRAINING?!?!?!" He slams his fists on the table, "You actually trusted a medic IN TRAINING to repair you? This is ridiculous, Swivel. I can't believe that you actually trusted a trainee to operate on you," He looks around the bar and heaves a sigh, "Yes, well, about Deet and the rest of the situation, there's not much that can be done...except for laying low and keeping as far away from Megatron and the rest of the Decepticons as possible.
Swivel cringes a little when Psykeout begins to yell at her about trusting a medic in training. "Wait, wait, no, he was under supervision of Lifeline.... well.. I mean, between her trying to keep some other suspicious people out of her place... but well, there's that whole mob problem... and... um... Lifeline is a VERY good medic, and the trainee, well..." she just sort of goes quiet, knowing there really is no point in trying to justify the situation. The fact was, the repairs were functional, but still imply the work of less experienced hands.
Psykeout grabs the head off of the booth again, placing it on the table. He points to the area where he removed it from the rest of the body, "See this? It's a clean cut. It wouldn't take much to re-attach it and help her to function again. But...why?" He pushes the head back next to him and looks back at her hip, "So, you're saying that Lifeline was busy dealing with other problems while the trainee was operating on you? What the frag, Swivel?"
Swivel shakes her head. "No, I mean yes, I mean, Lifeline did work on me after, but.... I.. uh... I wasn't really.... I mean I was in and out, I had really really bad injuries Psykeout! Looks, the repair job is fine, I just tend to limp because, well, maybe I should have rested longer before running around, and I'm always on the run..."
Psykeout shakes his head and grabs the helmet next to him, sliding out of the booth. He squeezes by Swivel, making his way towards the door, "You know how to contact me if you actually want quality work done, rather than the horrible disfiguration that has happened to you by a untrained medic, then so be it. I can't control what you do, Swivel. All I can do is offer my services." He looks back to the body underneath the table, "I'm sure someone will clean that up. Swivel...I need to leave. Your horrible judgment is ridiculous and rather disturbing."
Swivel places her hands on top of her helmet in mild exasperation as Psykeout takes his newly gotten head and storms off, chastising her. She just stares at him as he goes, seeming a bit stunned. First off, Psykeout has caused as much damaged as fixed her in the past. So... really why should she rely on him? Yet, she somehow now feels REALLY bad for not going to him for repairs. She shifts her weight side to side, as if deliberating whether chasing after him, or doing the sensible thing and being relieved that he's leaving. Second, the repairs weren't really that bad, were they? Better than a lot of the slap-patches she's had to endure in the past. Much better... but then... Psykeout she also thinks of Psykeout as erring on the side of perfectionism.
After a bit of deliberation, Swivel opts for the reckless choice of action and heads out of El Sleazo after Psykeout.
Psykeout moves through Up to Roof of the Cafe -- Cubicron
Psykeout looks out over Cubicron, his optics locked onto the horizon. He drops the head down and rears his foot back, punting the newly acquired head out into the fields of Cubicron, a dust pile rising from the landing point.
There is a noisy clatter after a moment of silence. Swivel makes her way up to the roof, hanging out the doorway and staring at Psykeout. She pauses a moment, carefully trying to collect herself before speaking. She slips away from the doorway and walks, careful to eliminate the limp from her stride. "Psykeout..."
Psykeout wraps his hand behind his back, lacing his fingers together and staring out into the distance. He hears Swivel's voice, but chooses to ignore it.
Swivel stands still, not really getting a response. She waits a bit more before it's quite clear she is being ignored, and he isn't just preparing some long speech. "We all do what we do to survive. You know that better than anyone. I take repairs where I can get them, when I can get them, and when I know I can afford them... and you aren't always the most available mech.... I didn't know the change in your situation, I assumed you'd be up at Polyhex or something."
Psykeout looks over his shoulder and motions her towards the edge of the building, "Come, Swivel. I want to show you something."
Swivel raises her optic ridges, tilting her head to the side, seeming a bit curious. Hesitantly, she walks over to the edge, keeping a wary optic on Psykeout. "....Yes, Psykeout?"
Psykeout turns to her and smiles, rubbing his hand on her shoulder, "We have been through so much together. So, so much...That's why it pains me to do this."
Swivel seems to freeze up notably, a look of tension coming over her when her shoulder is rubbed, but even more so as she listens to Psykeout. She doesn't even want to ask 'to do what', having a sneaking suspicion as she glances over the edge of the building. Quickly, she tries to step away from the edge. Psykeout teeters on his feet, then falls face-first towards the ground and an increasing speed. His body bounces on the ground a few times, his armor twisted in various places and his limbs angled in ways that just aren't normal.
Psykeout jumps down into the Cubicron -- Level 1.
"EEEK!" Swivel's hands fly to the top of her head in an expression of surprise and mild panic. Without thinking, she leaps off of the building after Psykeout.
You jump down into the Cubicron -- Level 1.
Almost at the same time as Psykeout hitting the street, there is a scream from above. Barely a few moments pass before the sound of running feet could he heard from the roof, and Swivel jumps over the edge, falling down to the street after him. She lands hard on her feet, bending her knees with the impact and throwing her hands down to steady herself. She remains crouched for a moment, a slight tic returning under her optic as she remembers that she PROMISED to take it easy on her legs for another cycle... and well... is learning why doctors tell people to do such things. After getting over the initial shock of landing, she tentatively crawls over to where Psykeout landed. "Psykeout....?"
Psykeout's limbs twitch, but he doesn't respond.
Swivel's optics flicker a few times as she watches him twitch. "You... you..." she can't think of any rational response to the current situation. She glances around, and realizes some mechs are staring at her. She even catches whispers as people speculate what happened. She realizes, perhaps, it might have looked like she tossed Psykeout off of the roof... and that's what some of the onlookers are thinking. Swivel's fingers twitch as she tries to stand up, only to buckle, her legs jarred by the uneven landing, having been favoring one leg over the other due to the recent injury. What to do what to do?
A voice rises from the crowd, "That femme threw Psykeout off of the roof! Someone call Megatron and let him know! There's a reward for his return! I could use those credits..." The voice drifts off as the rest of the crowd joins in and surrounds the two of them.
Swivel's optics dart between the people circling her. "Oy, ey now! Finders keepers, back off!" she tries yelling at them, but she knows that it likely futile. There is a flash in her purple optics and she quickly brings up her wrist to her mouth, clicking on her radio, while keeping her optics on the assembly of mechs who want the bounty for themselves.
<Transmission from Swivel> First Aid, oh PLEASE pick up your radio! I don't know who I can trust to turn to, and I'm in trouble just outside of the El Sleazo!
A few mechs manage to get close to Psykeout and wrap their hands on him, pulling him towards the building in the distance.
<Transmission from First Aid> *radio crackle for atmospheric purposes* Swivel? In Cubicron? What's going on? I'm in Iacon, I just came off shift, I'm not supposed to leave. Are you okay?'
Swivel frantically goes to grab at whatever limb she can get her hands on to try and stop them from pulling Psykeout, in effect, starting a tug-o-war with the fallen mech's body.
<Transmission from Swivel> *crackle and dragging noises, sounds of other voices in the background* "On second thought, maybe I shouldn't get you involved - AARG!"
<Transmission from First Aid> "No, its okay! What's going on? Maybe I can find someone else..."
Wrench pushes through the crowd and pulls out a pistol, pointing it towards the two mechs pulling the Decepticon psychologist, "I'd suggest you drop him before you find yourself in a world of hurt," He looks towards Swivel and flashes a smile, "Little lady, I would let go of him, if I were you. You'd find yourself dragged into an area that could get rather hairy."
<Transmission from Swivel> "Kind of.... hard to... it's complicated, but, uh, well, for starters, I hurt my legs again. And if I go to Lifeline she'll yell at me for not taking her advice!"
One of the onlookers rushes towards Psykeout's body and jumps towards Wrench, "You ain't gonna kill 'dem."
<Transmission from First Aid> 'Lifeline's a lot closer than I am, Swivel- and yelling is better than being hurt!
Swivel is flicking her glance around rapidly as suddenly there seems to be so much going on, her grip tightening as she gets dragged along. She glances up when a new voice descends out of the din of other rougher comments, blinking at Wrench. "Aaaah... but.... EEK!"
<Transmission from Swivel> "I know but... *her voice goes distant as if speaking to someone else* "Aaaah... but.... EEK!"
<Transmission from First Aid> "Swivel? Are you there? Look, I'll be there as soon as I can if I can find someone to escort me. I can't come by myself."
Wrench fires his pistol at the onlooker who jumped towards them. The blast tears through it's shoulder and the body flies away. He fires again and again, each blast pulling the others away, "Swivel. I'd suggest you go on your way. Psykeout needs to be delivered to the Decepticons. There is no argument about what's going to happen."
<Transmission from Swivel> *the radio crackles, catching the tail end of someone else, a mech saying, "...ment about what's going to happen." and then Swivel's voice pipes in "Uuuuuh.... yeah.... here.... that's... that's great... thanks..."
<Transmission from First Aid> "I'm on my way- Hammerstrike is coming with me. Are you still at El Sleazo?"
Swivel stares up at Wrench for a few moments, her expression... difficult to really pin down. However, her optics are wide and she glances at Psykeout who she'd been clinging to. "Wa-wait..." she then smiles a little. "I at least deserve some of the bounty then! I NEED those creds!" No, lying isn't beneath the little femme.
Wrench smiles and nods, "Very well," He tosses her a stack of credits, the bounds holding them together breaking and the credits spreading out over the ground. The group pounces on the credits, each of them scrambling over each other to get a piece of the credits. In the melee, Wrench reaches down and tries to grab Psykeout by the armor, in order to drag him back to Polyhex.
First Aid enters the Cubicron. Hammerstrike enters the Cubicron.
Psykeout twitches again, his optics flickering softly.
Swivel watches as the stack of credits bursts all over the ground, her optics flickering as she reaches one of her hands to try and grab at some, but her other hand remaining on Psykeout. So much for trying to hide her reason for clinging to the downed mech. The small femme is a bit lost amidst all of the mechs grabbing at credits and fighting amongst themselves in an unsavory swarm.
Wrench pulls Psykeout towards Polyhex, dragging Swivel as he does so. He turns and points the weapon towards Swivel, "I'd seriously suggest that you let go. I really don't want to shoot you, Swivel. I really, really don't. But, you've received your payment. Let it go. Now."
First Aid arrives from the edge of the buffer zone at a run and skids to a stop at the sight of the raucous crowd outside El Sleazo. He glances down the street- Lifeline's clinic is shuttered and quiet, no help to be had there- and begins threading his way through the crowd looking for Swivel, who has quit responding to radio calls.
Swivel stares up wide-eyed at the gun, her other hand clutching only two credits. "You'll 'ave ter gimme more 'en that!" she says, trying to tuck her injured leg beneath herself to give her a little more clout, while her other hand puts the credits away so that she can strengthen her grip with both of her hands available again. Although, she is starting to consider it's NOT worth this much trouble...
Psykeout twitches...'cause it's cool.
Hammerstrike trudges along behind First Aid, going between keeping a very keen eye on the smaller mech, and glancing side to side for any trouble. Well, trouble that would involve himself or his charge. Luckily, he didn't have to run quite so much as job lightly behind the scurrying smaller mech, having a larger stride. When First Aid begins to weave among the throng of mechs, Hammer gets out his Hammer and uses it to prod mechs side to side just to keep up with First Aid.
Wrench gives one last tug, pulling on Psykeout, "NOW! Let go of him. Go back with your friends and let me deal with what I have been told to do. I don't want to hurt you. There is no discernable reason for you to be doing this. Psykeout will wake up in a few minutes and you know that he's going to blame you for throwing him off of the roof. What do you think is going to happen when you are blamed for that? You really think that it's going to be as easy for you to walk away? Just suck it up and go on..."
Swivel snaps on a look of defiance. "But I DIDN'T throw him off of the roof! It's not what it looked like!" she says in her defense, dropping her slum-speech in her agitation. "I need a chance to explain! I NEED TO!"
First Aid (gently) shoves his way to the front of the crowd and spots Swivel clinging onto a ... Decepticon? "Swivel? Are you okay?" He asks, uncertainly.
Hammerstrike shoves a mech away from getting to close to First Aid as he zips over to a small femme and a downed Decepticon, a subtle sneer coming across his face. However, he says nothing, and just occupies himself with the safety of First Aid.
Psykeout's optics flicker softly, his vocoder coming online for a moment, "Swivel...threw....me..." Wrench tugs at Psykeout again, making his way towards Polyhex. His head snaps down at Psykeout, "So. He admits it," He pulls again, "Now that the Autobots are here, go ahead and deal with them. I will help Psykeout get back to where he needs to go. Swivel. Make the right choice. Explain to those that you need to, but I honestly don't care."
Something is wrong with the Decepticon, but First Aid's main concern is Swivel, who said she was hurt again... he reaches out to tap her on the shoulder, since she didn't seem to hear him before. "Swivel?"
Swivel's optics go wide as she hears Psykeout's voice and she looks horrified for a moment. "No... no I didn't... you..." she trails off as she loses her grip on Psykeout with one final tug from Wrench. She just remains on her knee, the other leg awkwardly sprawled out to the side, staring down at her own open hands with a worried expression plain across her features. She finally glances over at First Aid upon receiving a tap, just staring at him for a moment, not quite capable of forming a response.
Hammerstrike narrows his optics down at First Aid's 'friend'. Loom. LOOOOOMING!
Wrench pulls the frame of the Decepticon towards Polyhex, throwing a few more credits towards Swivel, "Thanks for making the right decision. It's much appreciated."
First Aid gives Swivel a little shake. "Are you okay? What's going on?"
Wrench pulls the frame of Psykeout into the distance... Wrench proceeds into the Cubicron Buffer Zone.
Swivel remains just staring with her mouth agape until she is given a little shake. She blinks a few times staring at First Aid. "I didn't throw anyone..." she repeats. She then looks at her leg. "I... landed on my good leg.... trying to not hurt the other one... and I can't stand." A few credits plink off of her and she idly goes to pick them up. "I did NOT throw anyone off of the roof!"
"Hmph... don't waste your time denying it, we all saw you do it!" comes a heckling voice from one of the other mechs in the crowd.
First Aid heaves a sigh. "Right. Later. Look, can you stand if I help you up? Lifeline's clinic's close- she should be back any time now, I sent her a comm- I'm /really/ not supposed to be down here, Swivel." He says quietly. What Hammerstrike doesn't know can't get him in trouble, and he's only here because Aid asked.
Swivel stares at First Aid and then slowly nods her head, slinging an arm across his shoulders so that he can help her up. "Sorry... I shoulna called ya.... I was jus' panicked a bit back an I dun aways think right..."
"It's okay," Aid says, pulling Swivel's arm over his shoulder and levering the smaller femme to her feet. "How's your hip holding up?"
Meanwhile, the crowd is breaking up and shrinking as people go on their way, some muttering unfriendly and unpleasant things about Swivel and or Psykeout as they trickle off from whence they came. A few injured mechs that took hits from Wrench slink off.
"She did it, I tell you. Saw it with my own optics."
Hammerstrike glares at the few mechs that decide to loiter about, but says and does nothing more.
Swivel clings to First Aid. She seems to be making a habit of this behavior. However, she doesn't really have much to say, only vaguely mumbling "S'fine" in regards to her hip, although chances are she didn't even think about the answer and responded something noncommittal as First Aid helps her towards Lifeline's clinic.
First Aid ignores the remains of the crowd, focusing on helping Swivel towards the door- just a bit down the block- to Lifeline's clinic... "Lifeline's upgrading the security," and Aid KNOWS that leaving Swivel unattended in the clinic without Lifeline's direct permission is more than his life is worth....
"Anyway, let me look at your leg and make sure you're okay to wait, and then I /really/ should get back to Iacon." First Aid says, a little nervously.
Hammerstrike is following silently. Really, if it weren't for his steady, heavy footsteps, First Aid would not even notice he's there.
Swivel glances at First Aid for a long while and nods her head slightly, allowing him to check her leg. "I understand..." she chances a glance over at the large mech following First Aid, then back at First Aid. She smiles vaguely. "I'm glad you came, but I'm sorry to have bothered you..."
First Aid finishes checking over Swivel's leg. "I think you just wrenched things- you were supposed to be taking it easy as it was- but get Lifeline to check you over as soon as she comes in, okay? I can turn down your pain receptors, if you want me to."
Swivel nods her head slowly. "No... don't worry about turning down my pain receptors. I'll be fine. It's not hurting so much as just wasn't responding right... but from the sounds of things, it's not so bad..." she offers a little shrug. "I meant to be easy on it, but well... sometimes when you work out of a place like this, taking it easy just is not an option."
First Aid sighs. "I understand, but be careful, okay? I have to get back now that I know you're okay." He stands up and takes a step back. "Thanks for coming with me, Hammerstrike."
Hammerstrike inclines his head ever so slightly to First Aid. "It is my duty," he intones. A glance to the exit is the only sign he shows of his impatience to get out of Cubicron.
Swivel nods her head. "Thanks... it really means a lot to me that you came.... and... I really didn't push anyone."
"Its okay, Swivel, I'm just glad you're alright." He smiles at Swivel and looks at Hammerstrike to see if the other mech is ready to go. "I really do have to get back though."
Swivel nods and just goes silent.
Hammerstrike inclines his head, fixing the smaller femme with a momentary look of mistrust, before he falls in step with First Aid and saying briskly, "Let's go."
First Aid waves to Swivel and turns to head back to Iacon.