11/16/2011 08:29 PM
"No, I'll give you fifty credits, and that's it. I know these are worth even less than that, so don't try to jip me." Torque's voice can be heard haggling with one of the stall vendors near the doors to Cubicron, the marketplace outside their walls rather packed and busy.
Thankfully the vendor knew when to fold, sighing in exasperation while rolling his optics. "Fine fine. Fifty then, just take 'em and go." Torque smiles at this and she gathers up the materials, subspacing them away. "Glad you could see reason."
Lift Off had been off Cybertron for awhile, doing a run off world to deliver both cargo and passengers to Rigel Five. He did a lot of leg work in order to bring some things back to Cybertron. Nothing illegal of course. With the parceling out of his load of goods, he had plenty of creds to spend. He too is checking out the vendors stalls when he spots the medic, "Good cycle Torque." he intones as he approaches her.
Strutting from within the gates, if you could call them that, of Cubicron is the lithe figure of Weaversplice, his iridescent cape swaying with his movements despite the thickness of the material. There is a certain air in the way he walks that suggests the mech doesn't have a care in the world, and yet his somewhat slanted peridot optics are focused with such sharpness and alertness. The mech seems uninterested in the stalls coupled in the estuary between Cubicron and the rest of Cybertron, but something else catches the mech's optics. He pauses a moment as if to deliberate, shakes his head, and then changes course to walk over to where Torque is gathering her spoils of a good cycle's haggling. His optics warily glance at the larger mech who also approached for a moment, running his likeness through his internal data for a matching file.
"If it isn't the industrious, nay, illustrious Torque," Weaversplice greets once close enough to speak at an easy volume.
Torque is about to move off to another stall to buy more things when Lift Off's voice catches her attention, the femme pausing and looking to the shuttle mech, smiling as antennas twitch. "Ah, good cycle, Lift Off! You come to spend your credits as well?" she chuckles softly, "Be careful if you are. Some of these mechs will try to swindle you into buying junk."
Antennas twitch again when Weaversplice's voice reaches her audials, the pair actually wiggling a little in delight when she looks over her shoulder, instantly knowing it for him thanks to the cape. It was hard to miss. "Well well, if it isn't the mech who never called me." she smirks, poking fun. "I thought you didn't like coming to Cubi."
Lift Off smiles to the medic and chuckles to her warning. "Oh don't worry about that, I'm wise to mechs like that after all my vorns of bartering." he intones, then a cock of the head given to the mech that greets her as well.
The opulent mech lapses into an appalled expression as he brings a hand to his chest. "My, what a greeting," he responds, feigning shame and offense at the jibe. However, he quickly adds a warm smile to punctuate it was all in good humor as he holds an arm out to Torque. "It was very caddish of me not to call after our last... very agreeable meeting," he says, lingering on the last part of his sentence with a richer tone and lower voice. "Ah, but business can be demanding, and it is business that brings me... here," he gestures towards the gates from whence he'd come. His optics then glance over to Lift Off as he offers a polite nod. "An acquaintance of yours, Torque? Please, introduce us."
Torque nods, smirking and looping her arm around his own, giving him a playful bump of shoulders. "Well, either way it's good to see you down here. Now I can finally show you my shop." Torque nods, smiling back at Lift Off, "Weaversplice, this is Lift Off. Lift Off, Weaversplice. Lift visits the shop every now and then, and is a very good delivery mech."
Lift Off inclines his head toward the smaller mech. "Good cycle." is offered politely.
With a look of comprehension, Weaversplice tilts back his head as he gazes upon the shutlemech with an "Aaaaaah..." upon receiving an explanation. He holds up his free hand towards Lift Off. "It is a pleasure I am sure. Where all do you deliver?"
Torque smiles at the two of them, glad they are getting acquainted. As they do so she takes a moment to remove a data pad from subspace, ticking off a few things on an on-screen list. Shopping was a chore, but needed to be done.
Lift Off extends his own hand to take the small hand, his grip is firm but careful at the same time. Apparently aware of his own strength, "I deliver as far as I can go on nearly a full tank. So long as the area is safe to land in and there's nothing I have to evade like warring factions fighting each other." he notes.
Weaversplice's grip, however, is not very firm at all, and even smaller, the larger mech can tell for his size he doesn't have much strength. Either that or he simply does not feel the need to squeeze in a handshake. Once Weaver has his hand free, he glances over as Torque gets out a data pad. Once seeing she is merely checking things off of a list, he looks back up to Lift Off. "I imagine the two of you do business with each other." He pauses a moment. "What sort of cargo do you usually carry? I can see whatever it is; you have the room for an expansive amount."
Torque idly nods at Weaver's question. "Sometimes, yeah. But I mostly buy local." After marking off the list she puts it away, looking up to them both. "I just need to pick up one or two more things, if you mechs don't mind. Then I'll be heading back to the shop. Anyway care to join me, or are in need of services?"
Lift Off shakes his head slightly to the statement from Weaversplice, "I've seen her for more my medical needs than business. It’s very important to be in top flying shape so I don't break down during transports of passengers or cargo." then a short pause, the replying to the question, "Its usually a mix of passengers wanting to leave Cybertron to find work off planet or a safer place to be with their families plus cargo of a variety of types. I can pretty much sell anything I get. Nothing dangerous though, I draw the line carrying something that could do myself or my passengers harm let alone anyone else."
Weaversplice lets off a soft chuckle as he listens. "Hmmmm, very wise of you. I don't imagine you bring home very many exotic pieces of art or culture, do you? I own a shop in Crystal City that specializes in antiques, but we are branching out to art both contemporary and modern, and exotic would certainly add a nice touch." He glances back at Torque and nods. "Lead the way, if you do not mind me following you like a lost bumble puppy while you get the last of your shopping done."
Lift Off considers Torque's offer of services. "Maybe I could bother you for a engine check later?" then he refocuses on the mech and smiles slightly, "Well no I don't bring that sort of thing back as I never saw a big draw for it considering how many leave Cybertron. However, if you made it worth my while to look for cultural and exotic items from off world I could certainly do some shopping around. Wouldn't hurt for me to see your shop to get a feel for what you might find worthy purchasing so I am not wasting your time or my own."
Torque gives a light smirk to Weaversplice, "Heh, I wouldn't mind at all." She nods to Lift Off however, grinning, "Of course, Lift off. Door's always open to yah." The femme then gives Weaver a light tugs at his arm, still grinning while she teases, "Come along then, bumble puppy."
When one does not have large, rounded optics, trying to imitate the doey look of a cute bumble puppy is not easy. And thus, despite raising his optic ridges without arching them too severely and widening his optics, his angular, tapered face and narrow features do not do him justice in the endeavor. And so, he replaces the failed 'puppy-dog-eyes' look with another one of his gallant smiles as he walks with Torque. He glances over at Liftoff, pausing but not withdrawing his arm from Torque. "One moment..." His free hand goes to subspace. "Here, Lift Off, my card," he says handing over a disc with the label 'Weaversplice, curator and dealer. Golden Memories Antiques and Art.' "Contact information is stored, as well as the location for the shop. A small catalogue of some of the items I sell is also included, with some pictures. Hopefully we can do business." He then turns to Torque, smiling and nodding, allowing her to resume walking. Weaversplice was not sure if Lift Off would be following or would go off on his own business.
Lift Off accepts the item the mech offers and nods, "Thank you." then offers one of his own cards with his own services upon it and planets he's been to as well. "And this is mine. Contact info only works when I'm on planet so if you get no reply I'm obviously off world." A pause to look to Torque, "I shall see you later then Torque." he rumbles softly.
Torque waits for the two to exchange information, giving Lift Off a nod and a light wave before using her strength to drag off Weaversplice.
It wouldn't take long for her to finish shopping, her subspace full now. When her errands are finished Torque carts Weaver off to the inherited shop. The insides are clean and neat, obviously recently wiped down and tools categorized. "This is my shop. Or er.. sort of my shop. Thankfully you showed up on one of the slower days."
Weaversplice takes his time to glance around the shop with the speculative optic of a business man, nodding his head in approval. "Hmmm, oh, yes, this is a very nice space. Roomy, well organized, and clean! Clean is very important especially in a filthy pit like... oh dear me, pardon my language. I mean no offense." He breaks off what he was saying, and then busies himself with more closely inspecting some of the shelves and their contents. Whether he understands what some of the tools are used for or not isn't plain across his countenance as he strokes his chin. "Did this clinic happen to belong to another medic before? I remember hearing of one who, despite the odds, did what she could to fix those most in need."
Torque snorts softly, smirking while taking her items from subspace, setting the products in their proper places on shelves, in boxes, and even in the back room. "No need to be so formal around me, Weaver. I'm kind of a rough n' tumble femme. I'm used to offensive mechs."
She pauses though at his question on the previous owner, choosing her words before speaking, "..Yes. Lifeline. I came to help after the bar exploded, then she up and left." Weaversplice may have been a friend in her optics, but not enough to tell the few things she'd recently learned of Lifeline. "So I've been taking care of the patients ever since."
Hookshot nods his head as he listens. "Ah yes... that..." he rotates his wrist as he tries to think of a word, but then, clearly censors himself despite Torque's claim to not minding offensive mechs, "...establishment here in Cubicron getting bombed DID make the news. It was very kind of you to take care of her patients. I do no doubt that you regularly deal with offensive mechs, which makes me all the more determined to be as gentile as possible. Just because one is used to something unpleasant doesn't mean it is any less disrespectful."
Torque actually smiles a little at his statement. "Well.. that's very nice of you to be like that. Heh, you sure you don't say this to all the femmes you meet?" The femme grins now, an antenna flicking at his playfully while she puts away the last of her items.
With everything done she removes her helmet and subspaces it, hand ruffling cables to remove hat-hair. One optics shines bright at him as she smiles, the other only scarcely breaking through the cables draped over it.
The shopkeeper turns his attention fully to Torque, no longer inspecting the clinic, watching her sort out her cable hair. "Not many of the femmes have asked me not to be so formal, so, no," he says with a widened grin. "I believe it is a femme's right to be treated with respect and adoration. For the most part, there is just something far more gentle and nurturing in their personality matrices, which is something to be treasured, especially during trying times like these." Weaversplice keeps himself from chuckling at this comment, knowing many femmes hardened and cold beyond that of any mech he'd ever met. He smirks. "Even among the rough and tumble ones."
Torque snorts softly, rubbing the back of her neck while smiling, a little bit of a blush rising to her cheeks. "Jeez.. you're makin' me blush with all this, yah know." She leans back against a counter set against the wall, looking back up to the mech. "There's not much I can offer you here though, unless you need repairs or bodywork. I do have more of my little art projects and such back at the apartment, though."
Weaversplice's optics remain keenly upon Torque as she shows signs of... not embarrassment per se, but more or less flattery. He takes a few steps closer, narrowing his optics ever so slightly. "Well, there isn't much work I need right now... I recently had my paint redone after a very rude prank was played on me, switching all my colors to the most hideous shades imaginable. And all for being a bit too..." once again he waves his hand in a circular motion as she glances slightly upwards, reaching for a words, "...curious," he concludes, shifting his gaze fully upon Torque again. "I questioned the authenticity of someone's artwork... and from there, well..." he chuckles. "I do recall you mentioning something about a Megatron back at your apartment. I should like to see more of your work sometime, but that may have to wait for the next time I come to Cubicron." He pauses another moment. "Which should be more often now."
Torque's antennas perk up a bit when he moves closer, looking up to the mech, a soft smile gracing her face. "Actually, I was hoping you'd mention that. I'd been keeping it in subspace just in case I bumped into you again." She replies, looking a little sheepish at that fact, but she digs into subspace anyway, pulling out the Megatron figure.
Just like Optimus it is made of all proper metal materials, and even a silicon face like in real life. How Torque got the details down so accurately would be beyond anyone except her, but she did it. Interesting features are the softly glowing Decepticon symbol upon his chest, made of carved energon crystal, his red optics of tiny red gems, and his cannon.
With a smile Torque presses a small button on Mini Megatron's back, a harmless, violet laser suddenly emanating from the tiny cannon and casting over Weaver's armor like a laser pointer. "The only thing I can't pin down is making these figures transform. But I think they're good enough as is. Here, you can have this too." She smiles, handing him it.
The shopkeeper watches with anticipation as Torque brings out and models the model of Megatron, watching her show off its features, including the laser-pointer cannon, which makes his chuckle softly as the violet beam travels harmlessly over his shoulder. He reaches out, receiving the gift. "Many thanks, you are over generous, and am unsure I quite deserve the attentions, Torque," he says as he moves the joints on one of the arms up and down, chuckling again as he does so. He's not about to mention the condition of the Optimus figure that is currently stashed in his subspace. "This truly is magnificent." He also isn't going to compliment the accuracy so not to arouse suspicion. "So many details. Again, I thank you," he says with a small bow of his head as he tucks it away.
After a hesitant pause and an apologetic look, Weaversplice exvents a very light sigh. "Ah, but once again, I must be going. I had gone to Cubicron to strike up business with some of the filthy rich, and must get back to my shop and make updates to my registrar and catalogues before the cycle is done."
Torque looks pleased that he enjoys the gift, though her smile falters a little when he has to leave again. "Well.. alright. But it's good that you'll be coming around more now. I'll make sure to make a few more things you might like for when we see each other again." She looks a little nervous a moment, like before, but she pushes past the hesitation and leans forward, giving him a little kiss on the cheek.
Weaversplice brings up a hand when Torque kisses him on the cheek, gently cradling the back of her head in his hand to hold her from moving away, kissing her gently back. He speaks in a tone that is barely above a whisper. "I shall see you again, Torque," before returning his hand to his side. He bows in his formal way before turning to leave.