2016-04-27 Clock Blocked

From Transformers: Lost and Found

2016-04-27 Clock Blocked
Date 2016/04/27
Location Habsuites - Blast Off and Whirl
Participants Blast Off, Penchant, Whirl
Summary Penchant drops by Whirl and Blast Off's room to pick up that clock he asked for.

Whirl is doing what he normally does after a long shift: jack shit. He's sitting on his berth, er.. wait, maybe it's Blast Off's berth? It's hard to remember whose berth was whose after Whirl finally made the decision to push them together but he's definitely sitting on his side. The T.V is going, playing some ultra violent and incredibly cheesy movie but he's not really watching it, he's just listening to the noise of it as he tries to relax. At one point he swears he hears a knock at the door but he tries his best to ignore it. Opening the door always leads to a surprise and he is in no mood for it.

"Go away," he hollers from his berth, hoping that's all the effort he has to put into this.

Nope sry Whirl will have to put in more effort. Penchant just knocks again. Then he leans against the door to listen to some poor screaming protagonist get ripped apart. He shudders. "Whirl it's Penchant. Th- ... You know, your neighbor? I'm just asking about the clock you said you'd... make..."

Whirl lets out a very loud, very dramatic SIGH when the knock happens again. "I thought I was pretty clear about the 'go away' thing," he says as he finally works up the effort to drag his ass out of bed and over to the door. When he opens it, he's surprised to see Penchant even though he identified himself but that's only because he forgot which one Penchant was. "Oh. Oh! Oh yeah! The nosey neighbour! Yeah, I remember you, come on in."

Penchant lingers at the threshold, frowning at his new title. "I don't wanna' pester, I was just wondering if you'd finished it." For all of Whirl's reputation and previous intimidation, it seems like it might be safer to stay outside. But he also wants to be polite, so he slowly shuffles in. "And I wanted to ask Blast Off something. When does he get off his shift?"

"Soon." Hopefully soon. Hopefully Blast Off didn't decide to go hang out with Vortex after his shift otherwise he's going to get one hell of a scolding when he finally walks through that door. "Alright, hang tight. I got your clock, I just have to find it first." Whirl then goes around the room, making a big show out of looking for something he already knows the location of. Really, he just wants to waste Penchant's time.

Penchant has nothing but time to waste. No assignments because /everyone has it out for Soundwave/, so there's just been a lot of sulking on Penchant's part. He stands rigidly, watching Whirl peruse his room. The berths are pushed together. Aw, that's kind of cute. "Primus!" he exclaims at the gorey scene on the videopane. "You /like/ this stuff?"

"No, I hate it, that's why it's playing on my screen right now," Whirl says as seriously as possible. Sarcasm is even funnier when you play it straight. "If it bothers you that much, you're more than free to not look at it."

As Whirl continues to look, pulling open drawers and cabinets, the movie continues. A poorly rendered giant snake appears on the screen much to the chagrin of the humananoid protagonists. The snake bites one of them (it's CGI model clipping through some of the scenery) and he immediately begins swelling up, screaming in agony before bursting open in a shower of viscera.

"Found it!" Whirl chirps, pulling a clock out from a drawer he opened several times already.

Whirl's sarcasm is so dry that it makes Penchant briefly panic. He doesn't even know why. But he turns his gaze away from the horrible CGI snake and looks at the drawer. Wait didn't Whirl try that a few times- bah. "Cheers! I'll just..." He reaches for the clock, staring at those big curving claws holding it. It looks like every other discarded clock Whirl had piled up. "I can wait outside if you want..." obs. I heard a song today that made me really want to try over the weekend."

Blast Off makes his way back to the habsuite, looking forward to a little peace and quiet. He could sure use it after the last few cycles. He's been repaired and his arm is once again firmly attached to his body but it's developed a bit of a squeak. He *almost* made his way to the medibay before returning home but decided he'd put it off until tomorrow and simply enjoy a relaxing, quiet, well earned -oh slag what is that noise he's hearing on the other side of the door? Primus, is Whirl watching one of those really loud, obnoxious movies again? Oh god why him. The Combaticon almost heads to the medibay after all but decides it's not worth it.

He walks right in. It is his home, after all. "Whirl, I *quite* got my fill of screaming while working with *Vortex* all those years, now if you will *please* turn that down!"

"Wait outside for what? You wanted your clock, here's your clock," Whirl says, practically shoving it in Penchant's hands. "What's the matter? Don't think it will work? Think I don't know what I'm doing!?" His tone starts getting a little aggressive there but Blast Off's arrival provides a distraction and Penchant is spared. For now.

"Good to see you too, shuttlemuffin," Whirl says, grabbing the remote off his desk and turning the volume down. He then goes over to greet Blast Off properly which in this case consists of putting his claws all over him, but he continues holding the clock thus forcing Penchant to wait longer. Totally by accident. Yeup. "How are you?"

"I meant wait for Blast Off!" Penchant flusters as the clock is foisted upon him, and he scrambles to make sure it doesn't drop, but Whirl keeps his dang claws on it. "Of course I think you know what you're doing!" IT'S A CLOCK HOW COMPLICATED IS IT.

It's everything Penchant can do it keep from snorting at the silly nickname again. The touching has him turning away, however, as he tries to remain polite. "Evening Blast Off..." Hey, it's the nobody from Swerve's!

Blast Off breathes a sigh of relief as the volume goes down. Ahhh, good. Whirl coming over for a greeting only makes it better, the Combaticon pressing in to the touch, starting to rub his faceplate along Whirl's neck as his optics dim. "I am well. Other than developing an odd little noise in my shoulder joint. I'll need to have it looked at but it can wait a cycle. In fact, I thought you might like to take a look at it yourself first. I expect you to really be thorough, too, really work me ov~---"

And that's when a voice pipes up IN THE SAME ROOM. Blast Off jerks away, arms flailing for a moment, to whip his masked face around to Penchant's location and stare in horror. Violet optics turn almost pale. "Who-what- HOW did YOU GET IN HERE??!!"

As soon as Blast Off starts nuzzling him, Whirl returns the gesture in kind, burying his not-face into the crook of the Combaticon's neck as his engines rumble loudly. The rumbling gets louder the more Blast Off goes on then suddenly comes to a stop when he suddenly starts yelling and freaking the fuck out.

"Woah! Relax! I let him in. He's here for that clock I've been working on. Remember? He's the nosey jerk I told you about? Asked me to make him a clock? I swore we had this conversation at some point."

Penchant just keeps his palm up to shield the PDA until Whirl explains his presence. Then he reaches for the clock again. Whirl must've just... forgot to give it to him. C'mon clock. Tug tug. "I thought you might be a solid mech to ask about some... Decepticon things. Ya' gonna' kick me out?"

Blast Off looks to Whirl, then back to Penchant, then back to Whirl. "You did?" The shuttleformer doesn't remember this. Again his gaze falls upon Penchant, then suddenly he's straightening himself and trying to salvage some semblence of dignity by pretending that he does anyway. "Oh. Oh, right. Of course, yes I remember." He attempts to fall into a cool, aloof, confident demeanor like that whole embarrassing nuzzling incident didn't just happen but the random twitch of a wing elevon and squeak of an armor plate as he shifts his weight doesn't help.

He takes the time (ha ha) to then look at the clock. OMP someone actually asked Whirl to make a clock??!! "You asked him for a clock?" The question starts like a genuine question, then changes tone mid-sentence as he remembers himself and tries to make it sound like he's just making idle conversation now. The Combaticon's optics narrow slightly at Penchant's last question and the tone turns subtly frosty. "What? Kicking? Why? Do you think because I'm a Decepticon I'm going to immedately resort to violent behavior?"

When Penchant starts making grabby hands at the clock, Whirl holds it up higher, juuuuuuust slightly out of his reach. Juuuuuuust enough that he'd have to jump for it. Considering the size difference, all Whirl has to do to achieve this is slightly lift his arm. "Yeah, he wanted a clock that he could set a bunch of alarms on for some reason. Guess he's a busy guy if he needs all those alarms, eh?"

Eventually he shows mercy and lowers his arm so Penchant can snatch the clock from him. "Oh yeah, he said he wanted to talk to you about something. No clue what." Look at him just talking about Penchant like he's not even there.

Penchant abandons his attempts at the clock. Now this is just mean. "I'm right here!" Now he's glowering. "No, of /course/ not," he tries with Blast Off, growing weary of all of the defensiveness. Either these two get picked on a lot or they're just JERKS. "I've been wanting to... ask the 'cons aboard what they personally thought their badges stood for. What the Decepticon /ideals/ were, to them. Would you humor me?"

Blast Off watches all this from Whirl with a neutral expression, midly interested in seeing if Penchant will jump for the clock and admiring how tall, dark, and handsome Whirl is. Whether he's being a jerk or not. It's possible that they both get picked on a lot AND they're also jerks. "I see. Well, he must want quality if he came to you."

the shuttle's look becomes more thoughtful as Penchant explains. head lifting up and back a bit, he considers this. "Well... perhaps." He shifts his head down to gaze at the smaller mech. "It depends on why you want to know."

"Well, I am the best," Whirl says, leaning in to give Blast Off a firm headbonk. Since Penchant has given up on trying to get his clock, Whirl decides it's not fun anymore and drops it into his arms. "I didn't know how many alarms you needed so I programmed it for twenty. You can set them with the buttons on the top, it's pretty straight forward." What he doesn't mentioned is that the default alarm is a voice clip of Whirl screaming 'WAKE UP' over and over again.

Since this is kind of a personal conversation, Whirl is polite and leaves the two of them to talk, moving across the room to lounge on the double berth. Just kidding, he DOES go lounge but he has every intention on listening to this conversation. "Hey, think you guys can come talk over here? Blast Off, come sit with me!" He pats spot next to him.

Penchant nearly drops his precious clock this time. He looks it over, a smile finally playing across his features when he hears the number of alarms. "Perfect." It vanishes into subspace. Blast Off's question gives him a pause. "I've become fond of your commander." Beat. "Not like /that/. Just... Well, enough for me to want to know what that movement really is to the 'cons on this ship. And I think you could give me something pretty unbiased, seeing as you're... with an Autobot." He moves a bit closer, hopping up on the nearest chair. Hopefully nobody minds.

"I'm always impressed by your work," Blast Off tells Whirl (not for the first time). Turning to Penchant he adds, "You're fortunate to have a piece of his. His name is synonymous with fine craftsmechship." He tightbeams a message to Whirl: "<<Just as long as I get the rest of you~...>>" When Whirl insists they sit next to him, the Combaticon is happy to comply. He sits next to the rotary, violet optics gazing towards that yellow one. He hasn't seen Whirl in awhile given all his planetary adventures, after all, and he's enjoying the view.

Or he is until Penchant mentions his /Commander/. Wait, who? He blinks, stiffening as he turns to gaze at Penchant instead. "Onslaught???!!!" He sounds shocked.

As soon as Blast Off's aft makes contact with the berth, Whirl flops over with a thud, his head resting in the Combaticon's lap. It has been awhile since they've had any time together what with all the shenanigans that has been happening so he's going to take full advantage of it despite Penchant's presence. He startles at Blast Off's outburst and stares at Penchant. "You're talking to Onslaught? Why? That's weird."

Penchant drags his hand over his face. "Your commander is Soundwave, is it not!" There's so much personal displays of affection that he gives up on trying to be polite about it and continues to stare at Blast Off. "Yes... Whirl obviously cares about his craftsmechship, he wouldn't let me have any of the other clocks here."

Blast Off kindasorta wishes Whirl wouldn't get so up close and snuggly with company present- having an Autobot in his lap while he tries to look the part of a tough Decepticon soldier isn't exactly the easiest thing in the world. He doesn't try to push Whirl away, however, and his hands even come to the sides of the other mech's head to stroke his helmet. His attention remains focused on Penchant though. The more the smaller mech stares the more Blast Off stares back... until his hands finally drop down away from Whirl's head and brace down on either side of the berth. He tries to look dignified. Somehow. With Whirl in his lap.

"Oh. OH. RIGHT." *cough* "Of course... here my Chief Commander is Soundwave. Which makes sense. Because I'm a Decepticon. A loyal Decepticon." *cough* "Anyway... you wanted to know what, again? WHy I am a Decepticon? Or what I see the Decepticon cause as, or...?"

Whirl was enjoying the touches to his helmet so when they abruptly stop, he makes an unhappy noise and squirms a bit before pushing back up into a sitting position. He had no problem with having Penchant in his room before but since Blast Off has reached his limit for public displays of affection, he's extremely eager for him to get the fuck out. Maybe if he makes him uncomfortable enough he'll leave. SURE, he can always just be patient and not a total jerk and let them finish their conversation but he has needs damnit!

Whirl begins staring intensely at Penchant without saying a word.

<FS3> Whirl rolls Staring: Success. (6 7 3 4 4 4)

"The latter," Penchant says simply. Then Whirl starts staring at him. Penchant ignores it readily. But the single yellow optic lingers there in his periphery. He pulls his gaze away a little more. But it's still there. He can feel it. In fact, he can /hear/ it. Or at least little snippets of Whirl's thoughts. Whirl definitely wants Blast Off to himself. Penchant shakes his head abruptly. "What do the Decepticons stand for, presently," he tries to clarify.

"I see." Blast Off feels a bit of relief mixed with a little bit of regret as Whirl moves away- he's starting to wish Penchant would leave them uninterrupted, too, but he's too polite to say so. He's also just a bit afraid of Soundwave- and anyone Soundwave might be seeing or something. Frag. I mean Soundwave's the guy who can read your thoughts, and if Penchant's hanging around him then maybe he'll read *Penchant's* thoughts too and... frag. He straightens up, stiff as a board while TRYING to look all proper and stuff.

He clears his throat. "Well. Yes. What do the Decepticons stand for? Well...uh..." He blinks. "Freedom. The freedom to choose. Megatron was the best. Megatron rules. Rah." There, did that sound patriotic enough?

Now it's Blast Off's turn to be stared at after he gives that pathetic answer. Whirl veeerryyy slowly turns his head, the unwavering, emotionless gaze of his single optic weighing down on him. "What."

"Did you just say 'rah?'" he adds.

Penchant looks thoroughly unsatisfied with that answer. But thankfully Whirl chimes in. "...Am I talking to a 'con that's a little... disillusioned by the cause?" Maybe Whirl watered Blast Off down or something. "Maybe I should ask Quicksight."

Wuut. Blast Off gives Whirl a startled, flighty little glance before looking away, then back again. "No." The terse, blatant lie is quickly followed up with a, "I-I mean I was just saying Rahh-rgh, heat shields have an itch!" He proceeds to scratch at one on his arm. "Must be a rash I picked up on that mudsoaked planet we were just on. Organic filth everywhere!"

He looks to Penchant only to get more flustered. "WHAT. NO." Fraaag. "No! Of course not!" Every word of the other bot is only making it worse, and by the time he gets to Quicksight the Combaticon's optics have gone pale again. He leans forward, nearly lifting himself off the berth in a sudden desire to look filled with fervor. "Don't. That..that scraplet is an ignorant fool anyway. If you want a *loyal* Decepticon, look no further!"

His finger points up as he continues, "The Decepticons fought against oppression, against slavery to one's alt mode. The power to *choose* your destiny, rather than be a slave to it." This part is easy, for choice *is* actually quite important to the Combaticon. "We refused to meekly follow orders of our oppressors, unlike the *Autobots*," (in his fervor he forgets the specific Autobot sitting right next to him), "Because we had the courage to fight back. To not be turbosheep led to slaughter but to stand up and demand all Cybertronians be treated equally." Even if some /are/ more equal than others. "Megatron led that crusade, and did a magnificent job of it. Far better than some Prime selling mystic Matrix nonsense to the masses. Megatron should have been listened to, not beat down, from the very beginning or none of this war would have ever even happened."

Whirl admires Blast Off's passion and everything but this conversation is a little awkward what with him being one of those people that literally beat down Megatron and maybe, probably kicked off what would become the most horrific, longest lasting wars in their species' history. He loves Blast Off, he really, really does and he would DIE for him but the whole Autobots vs Decepticons thing is still very much a sensitive subject between them.

"I didn't know genocide could be considered magnificent," he says. He tries to sound casual about it but there's definitely an edge to his voice.

Penchant studies Blast Off as he gathers some passion. He curls some digits around his chin, one finger up against his cheek, tapping in thought. There's a brief expression of surprise when Blast Off openly slanders Autobots with Whirl there draped on his lap. His brow quirks when Whirl speaks up. No comment from Pen for the moment.

Whirl's words bring Blast Off to a halt. The Combaticon stops, optics flickering, then he slowly turns to stare at the cyclops. Silence stretches between them, punctured only with the faintest tremor of his optic ridges. "I..." His glance moves to Penchant, almost as if seeking the escape of an interruption, but finds none. And so it reverts back to Whirl. Blast Off draws in a deep, slow cycle of air, frowning under his faceplate. "I... think that's a bit simplistic, don't you? The government wasn't going to give up its control. It was going to keep employing brutal methods to keep control of its subjects. Methods that..." His sentence dies before he adds *that you ought to know all too well*, though his gaze flicks down to Whirl's claws before pulling away to stare somewhere randomly. The fact that he thinks Soundwave might hear this, /see/ this urges him to continue. "Once war started, so did the casualties. Which is... unfortunate, but no one faction's hands are entirely clean."

What's more awkward? Making out in front of someone, or arguing in front of them? Looks like we're about to find out.

"Don't you think the whole 'all Decepticons are righteous' and 'all Autobots are evil' thing is a little simplistic?" Whirl tenses when Blast Off's gaze falls to his claws, knowing damn well the methods he speaks of, and looks away. "You keep talking about choice and how pro-choice the Decepticons are but how many people chose to be Decepticons, and how many of them had their hands forced? When a bunch of pissed off miners-turned-soldiers come to your town and tell you you can either join or die, where's the choice in that?"

"And Autobots.. you think every Autobot had a choice of which side to join? News flash, a lot of them didn't. What about M.T.Os who, by the way, only came into existence to fight and die against Megatron's.. what was it you called it? Magnificence? And what about me? Where was MY choice!? "

Penchant looks between the two of them. "Unfortunate," he repeats, tone a bit icy. "I'd have to agree, both of your hands (or claws) are bloodied. Whirl's right, a lot of us didn't have the luxury of remaining neutral - the Autobots simply absorbed mechs that had nowhere to go."

Then things begin to get a little heated. Penchant hadn't meant to ignite an argument. Woops. "A-anyway, I think that's a pretty solid description, Blast Off. Thanks for taking the time." He edges for the door. "Thanks for the clock!"

Wait, no, this isn't what he meant at all! Well actually it kind of was, but mostly Blast Off just wanted to make himself look like a loyal Decepticon so if Penchant's hanging around Mr. Mind Reader, then all Soundwave will see and feel is that. He doesn't want an argument with Whirl. He most certainly doesn't want to hurt Whirl. Yet pride and perhaps a bit of fear compel him to continue. He can't afford to be seen as disloyal, not with Quicksight just waiting for a slip and Soundwave nearby. Not with his Combatibros possibly being affected should a Combaticon be confirmed as treacherous or fickle. "I- I did NOT say all Autobots are evil!!" Just maybe a bunch of them. Blast Off huffs, "Where were they before that, then? Why did they wait until everything went to slag in a handbasket before having those *hands forced* in the first place? Don't tell me they couldn't see what was happening. They just didn't have the struts to stand up for themselves but chose to whine about the ones who did." Of course Blast Off may have been one of those who looked the other way once, before getting a crash landing all his own.

By the time Whirl brings up *magnificence* again, the Combaticon's fists ball up and flex open again as he emits another, louder huff. He's about to retort to that when Whirl speaks of his own choice. Blast Off freezes, staring at the cyclops. There's another one of those long silences as he tries to think of just what to say. As Penchant pipes up, the Combaticon glances towards him. "Uh. ...Right. Sure." His gaze soon turns back to Whirl. "I... alright, not *everyone* got a choice. Not everyone always gets one. By that point it had progressed pretty far, though, don't you think? By that point you make the best choice you have. And some chose to at least stand up against oppression. To fight against a system created to grind us all down. One that had demonstrated time and again that it was hopelessly corrupt and beyond salvaging. It took courage. It took struts. And *that*, Whirl, *Is* a magnificent thing."

"Are you seriously asking me that? Are you seriously asking me to justify the actions of the Autobots before the war? What am I, your personal history book? I wasn't even around for that shit! I was in prison, remember!? Because I was doing my job and instead of just accepting that life is shit and will always be shit like the rest of us did, Megatron threw a fit and started a fucking war!" Whirl is so engrossed in this argument that he doesn't even notice Penchant leaving. Except he totally does because the second Penchant is out of the room, the arguing stops.

"Good god, I thought he was never going to leave."

Those fists clench again, Blast Off drawing himself up to stare at the rotary. "Yes I AM. Yes, I DO remember. And just because you think those things doesn't mean that--" ....

Wait, what????

Blast Off freezes again, fists hovering mid-air on either side of his body, not even noticing that Penchant has gone. "Huh?" He finally turns his head to look and- oh. Yeah. He is gone. Those violet optics swing around to Whirl once more. He blinks.

Whirl leans in close to Blast Off, his not-face just a scant few inches away from his. "Oh, don't get me wrong, I still think Megatron is a piece of shit and I meant everything I said but mostly I just wanted to make things as awkward as possible so that Penchant guy would get the hell out of our room." He lifts a claw and drags it down the front of Blast Off's chest. "It's just you and me now and we have some catching up to do."

Blast Off is still tense as Whirl leans in, staring up at the other mech as Whirl explains things. The faintest little huff puffs out of his ventilation systems, a mix of haughty regard at the Autobot's brashness and a touch of bemusement as well. Then that claw scrapes against his chest and his optics flicker. You sneaky bastard you. The shuttleformer starts to relax, hands coming down to rest, palms flat against the berth. "I.. I see." He leans in slightly as well. There's one last glance towards the door, and his voice drops to a low whisper. "I... actually can see some of your points. I just... well, if he hangs around *Soundwave* then you never know what's getting /back/ to that mech." Suddenly he blinks and looks up at Whirl. "Oh. That- that reminds me. Soundwave spoke to me recently. He..." Blast Off swallows a moment. If he tells Whirl this, there's a chance Soundwave might see it in his head one day.

Eh, he'll take his chances. The tension returns to his frame, though he still leans in a conspiratorial angle towards the cyclops, staring at the claw at his chest. "Soundwave told me to inform him of anything you told me that might be *of interest*."

Whirl finds a seam in Blast Off's chest panel and traces his clawtip over it. He grows still and silent when the subject of Soundwave and conversations come up. He's nervous, what could Soundwave have possibly said to Blast Off that he's so hesitant to mention it? When it finally comes out, Whirl just stares.

"When have I ever said anything that might be of interest?"

The noise the Combaticon makes as that claw traces his seam isn't quite so much a huff as something much more pleased. He glances up to that staring yellow optic. A silence stretches between them for the third time that evening- and then he smiles. His body moves closer to the other mech's as a hand comes up to finger playfully along the edge of Whirl's pedipalps. His voice purrs an answer, rich with warmth and promise.


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