2016-05-17 The Most Dangerous Game
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|2016-05-17 The Most Dangerous Game|
|Location||Lost Light - Docks and Storage - The Brig|
|Summary||The first rule of the Beast Cell? Don't talk about the Beast Cell. Everything else is fair game for Getaway and Vortex.|
No room is so carefully watched, no area so strongly-constructed as the brig. The cells are monitored, capable of holding a dozen prisoners. The force fields aren't quite rated for a point-one-percenter, but they aren't far from it, either.
What compliments a random walk down a hallway like a gun pressed into your back? "Don't worry, it ain't loaded." This is how Getaway seeks to get Vortex's attention at random one day, Just like that. Surely Vortex will spin on him, at which point Getaway will hod up his 'gun' - which is really just his finger. "So," he says, eyebrows wagging since he has no lips with which to grin, "Do you maybe want to talk?" He leans in a little. "Like really talk?"
Leaning back, Getaway makes a sweeping motion that he should be followed. "You like to think yourself witty, no doubt because you are an interrogator. But, how bored are you, here on this ship? Day-to-day. Ready to cut your veins yet?"
Vortex was in a good mood. A very good mood. He's grinning beneath his mask, still baring the VERY RECOGNIZABLE punctures and marks. Who else has shark teeth, right? He wants everyone to see. Everyone! But it seems his mood was too good, he let himself fall into a lull. He feels something familiar press into his back an in an instant, his rotors spin rapidly and he twists around. Getaway is just lucky he didn't lose his hand.
There goes his mood. The light behind Vortex's visor narrows and hs gives a soft hiss, armor still bristling and rotors still going around. Hmph... Color him interested. Growling to himself, he follows the Autobot. His rotors finally still, just giving annoyed flickers.
"Cut out my veins... I call that just another Thursday." Vortex quickens his step so he's more walking alongside than following. "And you, no doubt, think that you know how I work. Prowl's mechs always considered themselves prepared for me..." He chuckles a bit. "Don't consider yourself different."
"Oh, I am sure I know how you work, yeah. I got you as figured out as you got me pegged." Getaway shakes his head as he walks along, not looking to his Con companion. He leads the Combaticon to the brig, gives a wave to the guard and keeps on going. He does stop to look back to see if Vortex will follow. "You suggesting there's a difference in what you bring to the table than, say, any of the other hundred Con interrogators that were out there? Come now, Tex, I thought you had a sharper wit than tongue."
Vortex bares his teeth at Getaway. Infuriating little- He rolls his shoulders, claws clinking. "'Figured out', tch. You're not that complicated." He says coolly. His rotors fan, eyeing the brig entry but he does not slow or stop. If this it a trap, they were going to find themselves very dead, very soon. "Those butchers? They don't treat it like the art it is." He clicks his glossa. "You'd be a fine piece to the collection... But that little Camien of yours. Oh~" His rotors tremble. "I'd make her a masterpiece."
Turning to head into the brig, well past the guard, Getaway heads toward the far end. There's a pair of prisoners in here; Rupture (neutral) and Clipper (Decepticon). It'ls well past them that Getaway goes, to the very last cell. He moves inside and sits, then pats the seat beside him to indicate to Vortex where he should come. "I offered up my services to Tailgate to test their facilities here. This is my 'work out' cell. I would suggest that you offer the same. We can overlap our schedules to meet up routinely." He talks like Vortex is already agreed to this.
"You won't touch Gearstrip, and not because of me. Windblade and the others don't answer to either of our sides, so if they gut you for it then Command would like just let it happen. Now, if you really want to threaten me you should dangle Skids in front of me. He's the one I care about more than anyone else. So... this 'art' you mentioned, already I find it lacking. I am wondering if I am making a solid arrangement here or not, one that will be worth... well, anything."
Vortex's smile falters slightly, optics narrowing once more... Then it all connects in an instant, before Getaway enters the cell. Ah... This was a game. And it was currently Getaway's turn. "Mph, a reason to lock me in the brig- who could say no?" He sits on the opposite side indicated, leaning against the wall, watching Getaway from the corner of his vision.
"You haven't seen any of my work, not like you will." Vortex says rather bitterly. He taps a claw on the floor. "You prattle even when being direct. Get your offer out, Build-A-Bot. Before I decide to stop listening."
"Well, it'ls a simple one. My silence for your silence. In exchange we get.... this," Getty gestures to the room. "You, me, no holds barred. Wit on wit. See..." He leans forward. "I am betting you are as bored as I am. You miss it - hell, maybe you never had it. Those halfwits you call 'brothers' and the general dolts that are Decepticons.... and me, Autobots are sentimental and lazy, right? So what I am offering is what we are both seeking; entertainment. Proper entertainment." Getaway leans back again. "Whatever is between us has to stay that way. Revealing any of it is an open call to get a knife in the back, or... worse, I imagine, you would say that you would do worse than that? For me it would be a bullet in your noggin, which you wouldn't even see coming. So, we mutually agree not to share with anyone else, and what we don't share can be as brutally *honest* as both of us really long - and I mean really long for."
Vortex turns his helm, looking around at the cell. He's seen better... But it is private and far from many prying eyes and ears. He reaches up to finger at the punctures in his facemask, considering. "They don't think like me but Brawl is the only halfwit- he tries though..." He says offhandedly as he thinks. He chuckles a bit. Knife in the back and a bullet to the brain, how appropriate for the two of them. "Why would I tell anyone? I hate sharing my new toys." He looks back to Getaway, a grin spreading over his face and heard in his voice. "But 'wits', 'brutal honesty'? Sure, I suppose that is entertaining- All these other Autobots are so tiring." There's a mocking tone and pout to his voice. "But, come now, I'm sure you can offer better."
There's a click and Vortex pulls Getaway's knife from its sheath, letting its razor edge glint before running a claw over it. "All these horrid, monstrous Decepticons have to be getting to you. Murdered your comrades and friends- well, as close as you could have gotten, right?- and now they just walk around... Ever wanted to vent out all that frustration?" The knife turns and he points it at his cell mate. "I can let you." It was worth an offer. Getaway spoke of longing, after all.
"If you want to act out some sicko sadist kinky stuff then you're going to have to talk Ripper into it. Sorry, but I'm going to have to pass on the physical offer there. You want to do that in a training room where the bumps and cuts can be explained? Then sure, maybe. Body pain ain't my kick though, not when we can just replace anything that's too damaged. Nah, me, I go for the real game. The stuff that can't be swapped out." Getaway taps the side of his head at this, since he means the brain. IN case Vortex wasn't able to follow along.
"As for gutting some cons? Sure, definitely thought about it. You are stupid enough to be on an Autobot ship that is flying under Autobot code. I mean, sure it might piss off some if Cons turned up dead, but really? Who's going to make a fuss if you all went away? Soundwave is the only useful one, doubly so since he keeps the lot of you in line. But even he's more focused on the neuts than you guys, so maybe he wouldn't even care."
Vortex laughs a little. "Can't blame a mech for trying." He spins the knife in his grip before sliding it back into it hiding place. He relaxes against the wall, speaking rather lazily. "That 'real game' is so easy, though. I don't think you know what you're asking for, Build-A-Bot. Seen a lot of bots come and go like you. They don't last."
Vortex looks up at the ceiling. "Mmm, that supposed to scare me? Make me worry? Please. I'm working on the Captain. Not to mention, Ripper and Raid... I think a lot more would care than you give your own faction credit." There's a beat. "And if we're going to be honest here- you leave Whirl and my brother alone. Only warning I'll give."
Well, that gets Getaway to shrug. "It's true. My type are a dime a dozen. We're pretty cheap and disposable. Though there'ls so few of us left that we're becoming a rare commodity. A real collector's item."
Which brings him to, "So, you and Ripper. That business or pleasure?"
Getaway nods though. "Now we're understanding each other. Your 'brother', he do anything to hurt Whirl though.... that guy is a real hero, unlike the crapride that Blast Off is. I mean, a cowardly sniper? How is that even a thing? Seems like you Combaticons need each other to carry the rest of you. I guess that'ls teamwork?" Getaway shakes his head. "Nah, no worrying. Just fact. Being a Con and being *here*? I don't get it. "
"Oh, you think I meant MTO? Hah! I've met MTO's tougher than a Wrecker. Don't try that whole 'woes me, I was built to be a living shield' slag. It won't work, pal. I mean..." Vortex gestures to him. "Your type. Your type breaks so easy." He looks at Getaway, this time he's leaning towards the MTO. "Pleasure. I mean, Ripper seems close to bots- he's just got this thing about him- so it could be business... Was business... But pleasure, now." He taps his battle mask. "I think he likes me, too. He wants me to bite back next time." Trying to make Getaway a little uncomfortable was fun...
Vortex rotors tremble again. Oh, so they do that when angry and excited. Boy, that must be confusing to witness. "Never been much of a Con- cause-wise. It was just fun. We're Combaticons first... Blast Off is neither of those things. He's no coward. And if Whirl is a hero, then I'm a saint and you're a dull-witted MTO." The rotary crosses his arms. "Just leave them be, they're happy."
"He is a coward. Trust me, I know. Being branded one myself, I have become quite adept at spotting them. Now Whirl though, he is indeed a hero. Bet he's killed more Cons than you Combaticons have killed Bots, combined. As for you being a saint... well, honestly, maybe. A saint of wicked tongues at least." Getty gestures to that whole mouth area that Tex has.
"Now this is a Vortex I could get used to. One I could like." Tex leans in; Getaway does too. "I can't believe I am doing this but... you lost me then. If my type ain't MTO, then what is it?" Because he doesn't see it.
Vortex would counter that Blast Off just understands his limits and knows he's not useful if he's dead after all. But he doesn't. Sometimes, ignoring someone was better than responding. His helm piques as Getaway leans in as well. "I worked hard to get it, I suppose it is rather heavenly." He laughs a bit.
"Oh? And what makes this Vortex different from any other? Seeing as we're asking such introspective questions about the other... Your type isn't how you were made- I don't care how a bot is made, just how they break. No, your type. I'm sure Rung could classify what I'm talking about. I bet you see him- I have to see him too after all." He pauses a moment. "I will say that when I beat you at this game- when, not if- you're gonna make quite a mess. Your type always make a mess." He grins, clearly finding joy in not delivering an answer Getaway would want.
Well, that makes Getaway squint. "Riiiiiiiiight." Still, he shakes his head. "Good thing for you, I break apart easily. Why, my limbs practically pop right off," he chuckles.
"I do see Rung, at least twice a week. I think it's important, more for him than me. Everyone keeps telling me to go see him, so I go. Is he as helpful to you as he is me? Guessing so if you need *this* too. I mean, you haven't left yet. This could well be the only jail cell you could walk out of on your own, and yet you haven't." He then looks at Tex, rather closely. "How can you not care how a bot was made? All the things that shape them, molding them until the moment you meet them. That doesn't fascinate you, not even in the slightest? Is that how you Combaticons get along then, not caring about what unites you. Just bots that all break the same? That seems like as weak as my talk about Cons being on a Bot ship."
"I'm sure they do." He mutters, rotors twitching. Vortex makes a motion that suggests rolling his optics but doesn't say anything about Rung. He glances momentarily at the exit. He could get up and leave... But this was indeed fun. It brought back memories of his interrogation days. When he could walk into a room and drop every pretense.
"Aheh, and I suppose that makes you obsessed with how bots were made? How does it not fascinate you to watch bots buckle at those seams that were so carefully crafted, hmm? I suppose you could say that creation and I have a tense relationship." Vortex tilts his chin up, leaning in more, one servo trailing slow circles as it moves in closer and closer to Getaway. "If you're dying to know, I was built like you- well, not like you. Constructed though. So there, now we know how each other were created. Mmm, we're justbonding over it, aren't we? It's so fascinating." Do you hear that? He's mocking.
"Nah, nothing of the sort. I think the nuts and bolts that make a difference. They factor in... not just how you can remove them. We ain't bonding. We're just... two monsters that recognize what each other are." Nothing more; nothing less. At least in the eyes of Getaway. Is that bonding? Getting along? Sharing one's self with someone of a similar mind? Quite possibly. But there's no enjoyment in it; though there is an element of necessity to 'this' that Getaway can't deny. He was, after all, the one to ask Tex 'out' - as it were. "Ever think you could have become something other than what you are?"
Vortex snickers. "Oooo- monster. How often you been called that? Like, two days ago the last time, for me. Bet you hide it better than me." His visor flashes and he makes note to call these meetings bonding time. It might annoy Getaway. "Heh, I dragged myself to where I am today by tooth and claw. Only thing I'd change is havin' all my brothers here. But tell me, how much do you hate your own guts?" His slowly creeping servo finally reached out to trail his claws along Getaway's leg. That's what they're doing today, right? Testing boundaries? He is at least.
"It helps to not have a face to call names to," Getaway chuckles. "One of the perks." With that he reaches to his face and plucks off the faceplate to reveal... nothing. A pitted hole where his face should be. He calmly snaps the visor back in place. "So even without this," he hand gestures to his face, "If they were to get to what's beneath, it tends to shut down the name calling. At least on my side of the war lines. But then, we're the softies." Traditionally speaking.
There's no hiding the flinch at the touch. Getaway clearly HATES THAT. But hey, he invited this kind of thing. So he has to grin (no mouth though) and bare it. "Hnt," he grunts though. "Maybe I have as few of those as I do a face, hence running from Megatron when I was first made? Nah, I can't hate what's not there." Yet, to have this game he has to play along. "I hate that I can't stop myself," he admits.
Vortex shrugs his shoulders a bit at the no-face. It could already tell he didn't have one. "I'd tell ya having a face and mouth is overrated buuuuut... I'm a bit attached to what I carved up, heh." His rotors fan as he gets the reaction he wants. Good. Vortex doesn't relent, instead he looks down to watch his claws as the move along Getaway's frame. "Stop what? Running away? Being a monster?" He asks the questions casually before hooking his fingers into a transformation seam and giving a hard tug.
"All of the above," Getaway fumbles for. Fumbles because he is clearly on edge. That finger... gets far enough and he has to bolt to his feet and scoot away. He'd cry foul but... again, he asked for this. "I can't escape Skids and, despite all my best efforts, I can't escape myself." He then moves to the door. "We've been down here alone long enough. Let's not rouse suspicion. Shall we?" He already is moving to duck out, a little twitch to that touched leg's step.
Vortex lets his marred facemask slip back so Getaway could see his smile. It's sly and dangerous and haughty. It's the kinda of smile that infuriates his brothers. All of them. But the rotary stands, nodding and going to follow. "Getaway, wait," He says this before he could completely get out. "Outside of this, hmmm... Safe Space? Our Private Place? We should name it... Ah! The Beast's Cell- that's a keeper. Anyways, outside of this-where its no holds bar - but out there... What're the rules of engagement?" He's walking slowly towards the groundframe, eyeing the leg he touched. Heh...
Getaway clearly hates that Vortex has a leg up on him.
"Nothing that can be traced back to the Beast's Cell leaves the Beast's Cell. Like I said before, anything revealed is open cause for permanent removal. Otherwise," he says from the doorway, hand on it as he is stopped there to look back. "Fair play." Curse his lack of lips with which to smirk!
"Yeah, yeah." Vortex grins as he strides up to Getaway in the doorway. "Fair play works just dandy." His mask snaps back over his face and he pauses briefly beside Getaway. "Day One and you're already squirming?" His voice drops, sounding downright predatory. "I can't wait to break you." And then he passes, servo reaching out to trail over Getaway's waist.
Vortex can't help but bark a laugh. "I'll talk to Tailgate, give you time to get yourself together." His visor flashes as he looks over his shoulder. "Just tell me when to come back."