2016-05-28 Traffic Jam
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Location||Lost Light - Habsuites|
|Participants||Air Raid, Brainstorm, Mirage, Prominence, Vortex|
|Summary||Impromptu alt mode party!|
Rows of twinned habsuites line the halls of the residential deck with a shared lounge at the far end.
Vortex is in a very bad, very sour mood. He got drunk which means its hangover time. Usually if he drinks til he reaches his limit, he'll be okay. But he went past his limit. Really past his limit. And now he is suffering. Its simultaneously terrible and wonderful. The rotary is sitting outside his habsuite, helm held low and knees drawn in. He's murmuring to himself, doing something hidden. Something to soothe his irate attitude. It clearly isn't working as someone steps into his circle. Literally. He's gouged a circle in the floor around him.
"Get out," Vortex snaps, a leg kicking the intruding pede to shove it out. His space! HIS! STAY OUT. With one leg unfolded, its clear he has a datapad with some sort of design going on with it. He hisses as rubs his helm, his own voice making it throb. Ughguhghhhhh...
The habsuite deck hallway is probably not the best place to be if you want peace and quiet. People tend to walk here. Sometimes they walk here while in a good enough mood to hum. Like Brainstorm. He's in a good mood today, humming a cheerful tune as he heads down from his habsuite towards the elevator. The guy a handful of feet ahead of him nearly getting kicked doesn't ruin it. After all, it's not him getting kicked. He does pause though when he sees who it is doing the kicking. He does so at a safe distance, out of the Combaticon's imediate range. He might like this guy better than most Cons, but he's not taking any chances "You look like scrap."
Mirage's arms are piled high with datapads, threatening to topple over at any moment. After a long night of only getting a few, fitful hours of recharge (though, that is admittedly better than what he normally manages) he hopes to spend the rest of his day reading in the relative seclusion of the library. If nothing else it will help him forget the whole fiasco that happened in the common lounge the day before.
Speaking of which, up ahead he spots a familiar form, one of the mecha who witnessed the whole thing. Frowning lightly, Mirage steps to the very edge of the hallway and tries to skirt around the chattering mecha without being noticed.
Prominence walks in from the elevator, concentration on the datapad in their clawed hands. They're headed for their habsuite further down the hall, and notice Vortex from the corner of their optic despite their concentration being elsewhere. What they don't notice is Vortex's circle, which their foot lands inside of. They yelp and stumble at the kick, but catch their balance clumsily before quite falling to their hands and knees. They turn to look back with narrowed optics, then actually pay attention to the scene Vortex is presenting. They hold their datapad between their hands as they stand at the edge of Vortex's circle. "What're you doing?" they ask, sounding genuinely curious, if a little accusative.
Vortex narrows his optics behind his visor. That's right. Don't cross his circle. "I'm doing something very serious. Very important. Unlike you. You're very unimportant, aren't you?" He shifts within his circle, rotors trembling. It's a warning for those wise enough to observe it. Vortex's helm whips around to somewhat leer at Brainstorm. Unlike Promi, he has reason to not snap that, at least, his face isn't creamsicle orange. Then he'd really look like scrap. Nah, he's gotta keep Brainstorm in good spirits. "Tch, just a hangover, Stormer... Ugh, everyone go away now. I have my serious work." His rotors fan, not quite agressive but definitly reflecting his mood. "Can't have anything distracting me." So serious. Very important.
"Distracting you from what?" still maintaining a safe distance, Brainstom tries to peer over at Vortex's datapad "I don't think the hallway is the best place to do things when hungover, unless you're trying to trip people" he looks down at the fallen Prominence, his hand shifting to get a better grip on his own luggage. Unlike everyone else, he's not carrying any datapads, just his usual briefcase, and one of his more recent projects.
Now, tehcnically speaking, most things produced in Brainstorm's workshop really ought to stay either there, in the armoury, or in the practice rooms. As far as Brainstorm is concerned, this is really more of a suggestion. It's not like any work he brings home is that dangerous. Well, most of it. At least not the one he's carrying right now, and hey, he's actually taking back to his lab. It's just a repaired and upgraded version of his E.M.Pistol, the one the maintinance drone broke. This one even has a new saftey feature to prevent such disarmings again! But it's not active now.
Rule #1 of gun saftey: A gun is always loaded, especaially when it isn't, and ESPECIALLY when it's an in-the-works experimental gun.
If you ask Brainstorm, the Combaticons (at least, the ones he's met), aren't such a bad bunch, so far Decepticons go, but the engineer is not so deprived of a sense of self-preservation to try his luck with a hungover ex-torturer, so he takes another step to the side, right in to Mirage. It's not a bad bump, but it's enough to knock the gun out of the inventor's hands, and on to the floor. There's a FWOOOOSH, followed by the characteristic sound of a transformation. Looks like the saftey mechanism could use a few more adjustments.
Mirage, on edge as he is, reacts instantly when he spots someone coming towards him. The scout dances back just before Brainstorm manages to turn him into a domino. It does jostle the top datapad from his stack, though, and the things manages to fall right on top of Brainstorm's experimental gun. Before Mirage knows what is going on, the rest of his datapads have joined the avalanche. Against his will, his armor begins to shift and lock into place. In a matter of moments, he is in his alt mode.
"Gah!? What is the slag is going on?"
Prominence lowers their datapad to their side, the platformer on the datapad forgotten as they look down at the helo impassively. "That's the plan", they say lowly and turn on their heel with a small smile on their lips, like they had just shared an inside joke. Vortex is not wrong, but Prominence can't let that kind of statement go entirely unchallenged. They don't really think the mech will even care to remember the exchange that is barely even an exchange, but that is fine by them.
Prominence doesn't see Brainstorm bump into Mirage or the gun hit the floor, but they hear the clank and the fwoosh and the following clatters, and are halfway turned to look back when their transformation cog engages on its own and folds them into altmode. Another yelp may slip out of their vocalised, cut off in the middle by their frame rearranging itself. A rattle of a shiver passes over their light jetmode once the last plates have finished rearranging. They immediately try to transform back to root mode, to no success. They take in the scene in the hallway in quiet bewilderment. Their nosecone now faces one wall, while their thruster faces the other. Their vocaliser clicks once, twice, before they grind out a slightly high-pitched "What the frag just happened!?" following Mirage.
Forced transformation isn't all too pleasant. Especially when you try to resist it out of sheer bitter stubborness. Obviously, Vortex doesn't succeed as he feels his body rearrange, plates grating and struts straining. Nothing makes him do something he doesn't want! Well, except this. He snarls as his datapad is crushed beneath his landing gear. MOTHER FUCKER!
"Dammit, Brainstorm!" His t-cog makes an empty click noise as he tries to change back. FUCK FUCK FUCK. If his mood was bad before... His tail rotor is pressed against Prominence, his front facing the other two. He's smaller than the jets, narrower too, but he is bigger than the car. His rotors start to spin, scraping the walls.
Brainstorm is not spared the effects of his invention. He doesn't even get to apologise to Mirage for smacking in to him before the pulse catches him, throwing him in to a transformation he did not ask for with a surprised "Eh?".
The hallway was probably not designed with the idea that there'd be people piling up in their altmodes right in the middle of it. Brainstorm was just lucky that he wasn't closer to the wall. The twin barrels of his nosecone guns are almost pressed against Mirage while one of the longer, upper fins is so close to Vortex that the scientist can feel their movement when they start spinning. "Well, at least I know that it works! Hey! Careful with those!" insitictivley, he tries to move away from the potential danger, and when transforming doesn't work, he's left with only the option of inching forward, right at Mirage.
Crunch, scrape. Mirage had already been hugging the wall in root mode, making every attempt to inch past the group without being noticed. The end result of this is that Brainstorm's attempts to escape crush the small mecha against the wall. He is not sure what to be more horrified at: knowing he'll come out of this looking like he was in a crash, or the fact that all of his precious reading it being turned to junk under his tires.
"Stop it!" he shouts. "What a bunch of poppycock! Are you trying to crush me?!" With few options left, and not keen on causing himself further damage, the racer revs his engine and tries to pull forwards.
Prominence sinks lower on their landing gear. "What is it?" they ask in resignment, trying to inch away from Vortex's spinning rotors. They manage to turn their tail, and bump their wing into Vortex in the process. A muffled "Frag." can be heard.
"Oh, you're not that close, quit your whinin'." Vortex knows when his rotors are close enough to draw blood. Its one of his basic instincts to know that. And then something smacks into his side, making his landing gear scraaaaape as he bounces from Promi to Brainstorm. He's stuck between the two. He snarls, rotors blurring and shedding sparks from the walls, lifting him up slightly. But he clatters back to the ground, rotors stopping. "If youre in my circle, I'm gonna hogtie you by your own internals." Vortex growls to himself. Everything pounding... Focus. "Stormer, I love impromptu testing, you know I do. But how do we fix this already?"
Brainstorm does not back away from Mirage. He doesn't press forward either, but he has no intention of moving any closser to Vortex than he already is. It's probably safer to annoy Mirage than Vortex. He would much rather that his internals stay where they are. Maybe with some luck the other Autobot will be able to get out and earn both of them some extra room "'It' is a defense mechanism to prevent disarmament." he explains cheerfully "Works against nonsentient machines, and most mechanical and organic lifeforms." in case you couldn't tell already "It should wear off on its own in about half an hour to an hour. I mean, there is a way to reverse it, but I can't exactly reach it right now."
Mirage continues to struggle where he is pinned. After a few good revs of his motor, though, he manages to pull out into the hallway. He does leave a long streak of blue and white paint along the wall, though, and possibly along Brainstorm's frame. It is only after he is free of the tangle of the mecha that he really processes Brainstorm's words. "By the Crystal Spires, you have to be kidding me. How is this any sort of defense? It seems ridiculous," he complains. "Just why were you aiming it at us in the first place? Can't a mecha walk through the hallway without catastrophe?"
<FS3> Prominence rolls Transportation: Failure. (4 3 4 4 5 6 2)
Prominence checks that they are indeed not in the circle since it's so important for the helo. "That warms my spark to hear" they say dryly to Brainstorm, starting to wriggle backwards out of the jam. It doesn't go well, and they think they may have just left a stripe of paint from their wingtip on Vortex. They freeze, not saying a word.
Vortex huffs, sounding like his brother. Time limit, could be worse. he snorts derisively at Mirage. "This is the Lost Light! Everyone is a walking catastrophe here! Hah!" The rotary's laugh is cut short as something digs and drags along him. normally he wouldn't care but he's already peeved and hungover. plus, he's totally in his circle!!!
Vortex's rotor tremble before blurring again. He rises, pelting the jets with air as he shoots up, his landing gear roughly colliding as he bobs. He smacks into the ceiling, rotors digging in and cutting deep before their progress is halted. They hadn't gotten fast enough to cut through thick ceiling metal. It's a moment before he slows to a stop, still stuck. The copter rattles. "Dammit, hate it when this happens."
"It's a great defense!" Brainstorm sounds almost a bit insulted by Mirage's criticism "You can't grab someone's weapon like this can you? I just need to adjust it. It's not finished yet. It shouldn't have actually affected anyone but you, but now I know what problems to fix." there's always a silver lining "And I wasn't aiming at any of you. It thought I was under attack and reacted on its own." if he says anything else, it's drowned out by the whirl of rotors, followed by Vortex's unhappy complaints. Brainstorm would find this a bit amusing if he weren't still facing the problem of being stuck in his alt mode himself. At least he can manuveur better, now that Mirage and Vortex have moved. Backing up from the wall, he realigns himself to point his nosecone more down the hall. Hopefully no one comes out of the nearby doors only to find themselves staring down the barrels of his guns. Not because he might shoot, but because they might.
The fact that he's no longer in danger of being cut up by Vortex's rotors is also what lets him calm down a bit, and think. If he had a head in this mode, he'd be looking up at the Combaticon "Hey, I don't remember, but you wouldn't happen to have a hook in there, would you?"
"Ack!" With Vortex in the air, Prominence manages to back out of the jam after being hit with Vortex's landing gear a couple times. At a safe distance, they stop and consider their options. they could probably try to roll backwards until they'd reach their habsuite door and try use their wing to poke in the numbers... They have a feeling they'd probably swipe the whole keybad off the wall, though. Instead, they examine Vortex. "A nice ceiling fixture", they muse aloud, still sounding somewhat flat.
"I didn't grab anything," Mirage replies, reversing as the others start to disentangle themselves. He is not keen to be stuck a second time (or to be that close to them ever again). "You nearly backed into me and knocked one of my datapads out of my hands. How is that my fault? I'm not the reason we're stuck like this!"
Vortex dangs there, some strain on his rotor hub. He's stuck, which sucks. But damn, that feel good... His rotors turn, which actually sends the suspended helicopter spinning. Hrmph! He simply snarls at Promi. Make note, resist urge to rivet him to the wall next he sees him. "Shut up, grounder. No one cares...." There's a clunk and his clamp falls, their maw snapping empty air as its tether goes taut before it hits the floor. "I got this. Why?"
"The gun doesn't know that" Brainstorm would shrug if he could "All it knows is that something hit me, and then I dropped it. Like I said, I'm still working out the kinks" without bothering to wait for an answer, he adresses Vortex again "Even better, if you can reach the E.M.Pistol anyways. Can you?"
Mirage is torn between staying here and seeing how it plays out, just in case it does reverse the process, or moving away to wait out the thirty minutes. If he's even telling the truth about that. Mirage imagines having to explain this to a medic if they can't fix what is going on, how absolutely crazy he would sound. "Are you sure he should be trying that? What happens if it hits us with another EMP blast? Something tells me I don't want to know the answer to that," he presses on, ignoring Vortex's command to shut up. They're all touchy and grumpy here, but he has just as much right to whi- complain.
Prominence decides to try to open their habsuite door, if only to pass the time. They roll backwards slowly until they reach the door, and tilt their frame in an attempt to tap the keys with their wing.
<FS3> Prominence rolls Reaction+Reaction: Failure. (3 5 3 5)`
<FS3> Vortex rolls Reaction+Reaction: Success. (2 5 1 3 3 7)
Vortex scoff. Can he- of course he can. "Tch, I've grabbed heads from a worst angle than this! I suggest everyone back off." There only warning as he whips up his rotor, and immediately jerking to a stop. He does this a few times to manipulate the direction of his clamp until... His tether swings around quick before cutting across. The clamp's maw opens and he gives some slack. The clamp sails towards the EMPistol, at the ready and... The clamp snaps into the gun. Did you want that undamaged Stormy? Oops. "Got it!"
"Depends on the pulse" Brainstorm sounds rather relaxed about all this. Just another lab accident, no biggie "It might reverse the process, or it might lock someone in their room. Or deactivate the environmental system." or any other number of things. He might have not mentioned what effects there might be on a missfire on one of them, but he doesn't seem intent on sitting too close to the weapon as Vortex attempts to grab it. His engines whirr as he pulls away a bit "Great! Now someone hit it. Or Vortex can hit someone with it. Or something. Just has to be mechanical." just not him. He'll be back here, out of range.
Prominence rips off one of the keys on the keypad and as it clatters to the floor, they decide that nope, not worth it. They roll back closer to the other three, sinking low on their landing gear with a sigh. Frag it all.
Mirage is getting more skeptical of this plan by the moment, as Brainstorm's current solution seems anything but practical. There are too many questions and risks involved. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Why don't we just wait it out and consult with a medic if it doesn't change?" he asks.&r&rAs nervous as he is, Mirage edges forwards towards Vortex. He isn't about to stand by and watch someone be damaged. He will try to intervene if he has to.
Vortex waits for someone to do something. Nothing. "For frag's sake!" He whips up his rotor hub, twisting around and swinging the clamp with gun around. If youve never bitch slapped someone in alt mode while in alt mode, you should. doing it two times in a row is even BETTER.
<FS3> Mirage rolls Reaction+reaction: Success. (5 2 4 2 6 3 2 8)
"It should work" Brainstorm calls from his safe spot away from Vortex. The lack of a face in this mode leaves no visible fay for him to express himself, but the former relaxed cheer is begining to ebb from his voice. He would much rather not abuse his own creations like this, but he has work to do, and it's not work he can achieve while stuck in jet mode.
Seeing movement out of the corner of his optic, the racer reverses course and moves out of the way of Vortex's clumsy smack. It takes him a moment to collect his wits, but by the time he does all he can feel is astonishment. "You know what? Do whatever you want, hooligans, but leave me... and them out of it," he remarks, turning slightly to see Prominence...
<FS3> Prominence rolls Reaction+Reaction: Failure. (2 4 4 5)
Prominence is not prepared. The hit connects, followed by indignant noise that suddenly cuts off with a click and Prominence falls into a sullen silence.
Air Raid shuffles out of his habsuite with an ener-juice box of sorts, and must blink twice to really take in what has unfolded here. Vortex is wedged into the ceiling. That should surprised Raid more, it doesn't. Slurrrp goes his straw. "Uhhhm. Alt mode party?"
Well, one outta two ain't bad! The gun seems broke and it makes that fwoosh sound like earlier and another echo of transformation. Vortex doesn't resist and is soon dangling by his rotors in root mode, looking smaller like this. A beat and the rotary cackles, kicking his pedes. "Look at that! You're good for something," He tells prominence, looking down as he slowly spins. "Did I hear Raider? Raider! Look, I'm free! ... Sorta. Hey, no one touch my circle." MINE.
"Something like that" Brainstorm responds as Air Raid comes in "Might want to--" he doesn't get to finish before the fwoosh overtakes him. Again there's the unmistakable sound of a transformation Brainstorm stands up on both feet, stretching as he straightens out "Finally!" once he's sure that everything's moving like it should he steps back towards Vortex, non-briefxcase hand palm up. "The EMP?"
Hearing the crack of the blaster colliding with Prominence's frame made Mirage snarl in frustration. He hardly notices the sound of the EMP blast, reacting on instinct. He transforms as he leaps forwards, only catching himself moments before he shoves himself between the dangling Decepticon and the other. Frustration shifts to relief, though it doesn't last long when he sees his wreck of a paint job. "I can't believe that worked. You're all mental," he mutters. Digits trace over his scrapes, and he frowns deeply. "Someone's paying for me to get this redone. And my datapads."
He glances up, offering a pitying glance to Prominence. "Are you alright?"
Prominence stares at the floor with an inscrutable expression for a moment after their transformation back to root mode is complete. They slowly meet Mirage's optics. "I'm alright. I... Appreciate the concern." They offer Mirage a small smile, before walking around him, stepping up to Vortex, and looking up at him impassively. They take a hold on Vortex's frame and yank once, hard, before stepping around him to start picking up Mirage's datapads. The corridor was a mess of broken datapads.
Air Raid is about to mock Vortex and possibly gush over the other non-Stormy jet in the room, but he's suddenly gripped with the urge to transform. "Wait-wait-wait-!" he yells at his own body, collapsing into jet mode as his ener-juice falls to the floor. "What the FRAG!" Attempts to revert back are fruitless, and frustrating, this evinced by Air Raid's string of curses that only grows louder. "BRAINSTORM!" Probably safe to blame him.
Vortex points to the clamp at the end of his tether, just hanging around loosely on the ground. His clamp opens up to release the gun. "There it is, Stormer. And quit your whining, making my head hurt worst. I'll give you a free touch up at the Body Ship, that make you feel bet-" His helm turns as something grips him. What? He jerks down, rotors yanking out of their hold in the ceiling, and he falls straight down to the floor. "Hey!" The rotary hisses at Promi but, luckily, something else got his attention. It's a good thing he can handle some paind. He scrambles up- he takes a moment to step aside and aim a kick at Prominence- before running over to the now lone jet. "Hey Raider!" Look at that alt, ahhhhh... "You're looking sharp, ehhh?" He boops Air Raid's nosecone.
Well, that works too. Brainstorm reaches down to pick up the unlucky weapon, even as Air Raid yells his name "Yeah, I was about to say that you should probably stand back" he glances back at the other jet, and then at Vortex, to give him a slightly annoyed look. Couldn't be a bit gentler? Well, it was his advice, and his creation that caused the problem. He steps to the side to look around at everyone gathered "Sorry about that folks. By the way, you all might still want to check with medical. Forced transformations are bad for you, especially if you tried resisting them."
Mirage watches Vortex out of the corner of his optic. The mecha went from trying to backhand slap him to offering a free paint job? Not the sort he wants to put his future beauty in the hands of. "No thanks. I think I'll pass on that one. I'm sure I can figure something out," he responds, before turning his attention back to Promincence.
He quirks an optic ridge when he sees that they've moved to pick up his datapads, a little surprised. That's the nicest thing someone has done for him in days. He moves to stand beside them. "You didn't have to, but thanks. Any of them look salvageable?" he asks, bending down to squint at them.
Prominence actually dodges the kick Vortex throws at them and goes back to piling the datapads.
They stop for a moment in their piling when Mirage thanks them. "Don't mention it. Here." They give Mirage a couple less damaged datapads from the short pile they're collected, and even one apparently undamaged one.
Air Raid was pretty mad about his spilled ener-juice box, but Vortex's booping has him frothing now. He jerks his wheels forward. "Don't make me stab your sorry aft!" He's still got bladed wings! That go nowhere. He can't move them. You're a fixed-wing aircraft, Air Raid. "Wait! Stormy, change me back! Why's it not working!" he moans, flapping ailerons angrily. "MIRAGE HELP!" As if Mirage can intimidate a solution out of Brainstorm.
Vortex snickers. "Oh, I bet you could." He grins wider and moves in closer, running servos over wings. "I haven't been this close to a jet in so long. You have got a slick alt, Raider. Why don't you stay a while? It wears off- right Stormy?" He ducks down. "Where's your gatling? All your guns. You have so many."
Brainstorm watches as Mirage and Prominence work at gathering the mess of fallen datapads "Try Torque. She's pretty good at that sort of stuff" there's a pause, and then he adds "And I could repair at least some of those, or at least salvage some of the data" as an apology, and to keep the higherups out of his plating. They're just datapads.
His attention is, however, quickly drawn back to the other duo. "Half an hour to an hour, probably." he nods "I mean, I could repair this" he gives the wreckage of a gun in his hand an unhappy, but resigned, look "But it might take about as long, just to get the reversal working, depending on how bad it is." he shifts his brefcase under his arm to free that hand to balance the weapon while the other one picks at it, assessing the damage.
Mirage takes the datapads Prominence offered out to him, rifling through them with an odd amount of desperation. It may seem like nothing to someone else, but he'd spent a lifetime collecting literature that would otherwise have disappeared in the war. Some of those datapads had been one-of-a-kind. "Once again, you have my gratitude. You don't understand what this means to me," he replies. Once he's taken stock, he glances back up towards Brainstorm.
While pride had kept him from accepting Vortex's offer, his datapads were another thing entirely. Wavering a moment, he nods towards Brainstorm. "I'll think about it. Thank you for the off- Oh."
That's when he hears Air Raid scream his name. Leaning to see around Prominence, he realizes that the problem is not quite solved. "...! I'm sorry, I don't know how to repair these sorts of things, but I'm happy to help you find someone who can if need be. I realize it's not pleasant."
One more mournful glance down at his scrapes and scraps.
Air Raid shudders faintly at the sensation from Vortex's trailing claws. But he's not immune to praise, and endures the ogling with less complaints. Fully black cybertronian jet, save for the bands of gold and red on his wings - slightly bigger than his old F-15 mode, fuselage thick with armor. Missiles are tucked under his wings, sidewinders and sparrows, some have painted smilies on them, or look like sharks. At this angle there's a line of seeker-shaped silhouettes on his nosecone. And where's that gatling cannon you ask, Tex? Clack-CLACK why RIGHT HERE under his nosecone. It's big and long and awesome. "An HOUR!? Bahhh stuff it," he barks rudely at Mirage and his lack of help. Sorry Mirage he's cranky. And now he's going to attempt to taxi towards the lounge in this cramped space. "Rrrghh."
Vortex's visor flashes. He's definitly ogling. Look at all of it. He doesn't have equipment like that, it's too heavy. He makes a faint noise, reaching out to touch the gattling gun. "I'll keep you company, Raider! Hey, where're you going? Hold on." He grabs hold of Air Raid and hoises himself up, perching atop the F-15. HE sits there, looking like a proud, asshole cat. "Now we can go. Sorry about the gun Stormer! The rest of you can- as Raider said- stuff it. Don't touch my circle either! Ugh, Raid. I gotta tell you about my circle- and how they ruined it. Tch..." He shifts to lay across the expanse of his wings. Yessss. He reaches out, poking an aileron. Yessssss.
"I'll let you know if I get it fixed before that" Brainstorm promises, glancing up from his destroyed creation at the duo of flyers. With that, he turns back in the direction he was originally heading in: towards the elevator, pausing only to add to Mirage "Stop by my workshop if you make up your mind."
While everyone else moves off, Mirage stoops to pick up the rest of the unsalvageable datapads. He's not about to leave a mess in the hallway if he can help it. Some part of him is vainly hoping that he can manage to do something with them. "You'll hear back from me soon if that's the case," he replies.
"Eight thousand rounds per minute," Air Raid declares proudly, before he's perched upon by asshole cat. "Ffff- What do I look like, Blast Off!?" But he can't really buck Vortex off, so he just coasts further down the hall on his small tires. Ailerons twitch back and forth almost reflexively when they're touched. "What circle? Why were you in the ceiling?"
Vortex pouts and rolls to his side, claw tracing shapres on a wing. "I made myself a circle in the hall. The Hangover Circle! I wasnt allowed to leave it and no one could come in it until my hangover is over. You know- when I felt less... ... Stabby, I suppose. But then they stepped in it- rude! And then they had the nerve to slam me so I flew up and... Got stuck." Woooooes him! WOOOOOES! "But who needs a circle when I got a plane?" And at that, Vortex sprawls over Air Raid once more. "Comfy."
"Mech," Air Raid hisses abruptly, "S-stop with the claws-! Don't you know anything about wings, ya' dumbass! I gotta' feel changes in air pressure with these things, they're packed with sensors!"
But Vortex is permitted to sprawl. It's kind of amusing. "Well. Sucks about your circle. Want me to beat that slagger up? Also, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you had an affinity for jets." He attempts to transform again, his sad t-cog grinding unhappily.
"Hah, I got him, Raider. I'll just trip him whenever I see him for the rest of my life." Revenge. Delicious, petty revenge. "You know, I hope I know a lot about wings. Been so long since I had 'em but damn you'd think I'd remember, right?" Vortex's claws hover over a specific area before rapping against a spot where there's sure to have plenty of sensor arrays. Hehe. "What, can't have a preference? Like you don't have a jet thing. Jets always got a jet thing."
Air Raid's vents hitch at that pin-pointed touch. It's like someone rolled their knuckles against a taut bundle of wires in his back, pleasure bordering on a bit of pain. Another shuddering wave rattles its way down his armor, shaking his frame. Vortex... does seem to know wings. "Of course jets have a jet thing," he mumbles distractedly, then gathers himself to force his body back into root mode. It's grinding and scraping and all around unpleasant, and he curses Brainstorm for the horribly slow transformation. It'll dump Vortex on the ground. Vortex tends to get dumped on the ground a lot.
"What do you mean, 'so long'? When did you have wings?" he asks, standing weakly over the chopper.
Vortex snickers to himself. Hah, found a soft-spot. "Hey, whoa, Raider what're you- ugh." He does indeed land on the floor, looking unhappily at the jet. "That sounded like shit. You're gonna have to get checked out at medibay. Tch, figures... Stubborn..." His rotors twitch. "Oh, ah... On Cybertron. Before the war."
Air Raid waves a hand distractedly. "I'm fine." It's kinda' weird to hear those particular words from Vortex of all mechs! But now he's keenly interested. His attraction to Vortex was undeniable before, but this little quirk has him leaning a little too far on his knees, smiling broadly. "What kinda' jet?"
Vortex's visor shutters and he tilts his helm a little. Huh... He shrugs and leans forward just a little. "I was a small flightframe. Made of quick, quiet travel. In and out, easy... But I had these wings... Narrow but what a wingspan. If they didn't fold up, I wouldn't be walking down these halls." But he shrugs. "But not for me."
Air Raid straightens, though it seems to pain him. He plants a hand on his hip, smiling all the more. "What a wingspan," he repeats, almost dreamily. "Yeah I guess we can't all be jets... I like your brand of rotary. Very attack-y." It's a compliment, it's not even laced with snark. "You ah... You still seeing Ripper?"
Vortex nods. "Oh, you should have seen it..." He chuckles and brightens, getting to his pedes and bouncing on his heels. "Yeah- never felt I was built right. Always good looking but this- these-" His rotors spin. "These felt good, felt right. They built me wrong, I fixed it." He nods again. "Yeah, sure am. Hey, come on. LEt's go to medibay. Last thing we need are some funky t-cogs." He takes that servo not on a hip to tug on him. "Come on."
Air Raid thumbs his nose and scoffs and postures to try and cover up just how much that answer irked him. But that doesn't matter too much now, because Vortex is taking him by the hand and trying to drag him off. To the medibay. Urgh. Raid finds he can't resist, and begrudgingly follows. "Slaggin' Brainstorm," he spits.