2017-02-19 Cleaning Up Loose Ends
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Cleaning Up Loose Ends|
|Location||Habsuites - Blast Off and Whirl|
|Participants||Blast Off, Onslaught|
|Summary||Onslaught has a talk with Blast Off after their tumultuous encounter in the Common Lounge not long ago. Business must still be attended to.|
It had been a little more than a day since Onslaught asked Blast Off to meet him, and he was growing impatient. Onslaught's best strategy is to confront things- or people- at their source. So, with some trepidation (cause of that Autobot), he approaches Boff's hab suite. The Combaticon leader doesn't knock politely, oh no.
He practically hammers the door with the side of his fist. "Blast Off! Open the door!"
Blast Off jumps at the sound, nearly knocking over the wine glass in his hand. He'd just gotten back from a shift at work and was trying to relax, despite a lot of things on his mind (aren't there always?). He's alone right now, thank Primus. The shuttleformer is still miffed at his Commander and all the insults thrown Whirl's way, completely unnecessarily in his book. Will these two EVER tolerate one another? His armor plates bristle at the thought and for a split second the Combaticon SubCommander considers IGNORING his Commander entirely. Let /him/ sweat it out for once just a bit, yeah!
Aaaand that thought only lasts a fraction of a second before Blast Off is on his feet, setting the wine glass- and faceplate- down with a sigh. "I'm *coming*." His voice is stiff and flat and edging on unhappy. Making his way to the door, he frowns, then opens the door. Looking up, his greeting is also stiff. "Commander."
Onslaught looms over Blast Off. "I told you to meet with me later. Not several days from now." The redness from Onslaught's visor dimmed at his sub commander.
Blast Off looks up, waaay up as Onslaught looms over him, armor flaring slightly before smoothing down again. Violet optics stare up at his Commander, then flicker. "I... uh..." He draws in a deep vent of air, maintaining his spot, though a wing elevon flicks nervously. His fingers curl into fists, then relax again with deliberate effort. "You... you didn't give me a specific *time*, Commander! I just got off work, I was... I was going to call you." At some point.
Onslaught stares at Blast Off. Normally, he would just shove his way in, and it wouldn't be like Blast Off would kick him out or get upset about it. Instead though, with Rung's words still in his head...
"May I come in?" He asks Boff gruffly, obviously not used to being so polite about it.
Blast Off blinks. Wh-huh? Onslaught is politely /asking/ him to come in? The shuttle's optics flicker in surprise and he just stands there for a moment before snapping out of it. "Oh. Uh." Blast Off takes a step back, opening the way for the larger Combaticon to come in. "...Yes."
Onslaught steps in, looks around, then takes a seat on a chair. "So, I see you have a problem with me. Spit it out." This is not one who likes to sit there and stew in personal loathing. It was not hard to tell that Boff had an issue with him.
Blast Off watches Onslaught come in and sit down, then moves back to sit down. He ignores his wine glass for now, biting his lower lip when Onslaught speaks. It's always hard to keep anything from his Commnader, he's too damn perceptive. The shuttleformer sits, stiff, back straight, hands clenched to either side of his chair. He glances away for a moment before turning to face his Commander. He sucks in a deep vent of air, on edge. "...Sir, with all due respect, I... I..." His fingers curl and dig into the chair handles. "I think you're wrong about Whirl, and certainly in how you... you addressed him the other day. You insulted him *far* beyond there was any need to."
"Not everyone looks at Whirl with rose-tinted visors as you do, Blast Off." Onslaught answers, looking at his subordinate. "I do admit to one thing though." A deep vent in. "I pushed at the Au- Whirl. Whirl. Much more than I should have." Another deep vent in, and out. "I am not fond of pushing you away. You are rather important to me."
Blast Off braces himself as Onslaught replies, not sure what to expect. He admires Onslaught, and always has, and usually finds himself in agreement with his Commander. Deep disagreements are rare, and uncomfortable, but Blast Off hasn't been one to avoid saying what he really thinks, either. They're honest with each other, and that's been a good thing. Still- this is a very testy subject, one unlike they've dealt with before. His fists ball up, prepared to get an earful for expressing his honest opinion just now- and instead he finds himself completely surprised. Again. The shuttleformer blinks, checking and doublechecking his audials to make sure he actually heard all that. He- he did.
Blast Off finds himself leaning back against his chair, expression just a bit dazed... and optics suddenly a bit too bright and shimmering, almost like he's about to leak some sort of discharge. Thankfully, he gets a hold of that pretty quickly, simply rubbing his hand across his face and coughing. "I... I..." He gulps and puts both hands down to look up at his Commander, some relief etched across his dark face. "...Thank you, Sir. It... it really means a lot to hear you say that." The shuttleformer sighs with relief, shoulders sinking as he finally relaxes. He glances down at his knees, then back up at Onslaught. "...You're very important to me, too, Commander. I don't want to disappoint you. And..."
He swallows again, glancing over towards Whirl's berth. "I... I know Whirl has his... issues, too. I understand why you don't trust him." He swallows back the urge to say *I wish you could learn to*. "I know he's... rough around the edges... kind of like Brawl was, or..." His voice trails off and he again refrains from trying to explain why Whirl isn't such a bad guy. He knows he isn't, but this probably isn't the time to push that. "Uh." He looks back at Onslaught. "I'm glad I'm a Combaticon, I... I never want that to change."
Onslaught nods. He rather not get into a comparison between Whirl and Brawl, for those two have their own issues. One of which is still the point that Whirl is still an Autobot and Brawl is not one. It would only serve to stir up feelings of malcontent again, and he didn't want that to happen. Blast Off, to his (mild) surprise, looks happy about what he said. Was that shrink right? Is this the kind of thing that both Blast Off and Vortex wanted to hear all along?
Strange that his murderous subordinates had such a need deep down inside. But it is working, and while it is Ons's true feelings all along- that he needed them as much as they needed him- it would not be unlike him to use this to his advantage. So he leans back in his own chair. "As am I." He agrees with Blast Off, before launching into what he was there for. "And as Combaticons, we are compromised. On this ship, we know of one that knows about the box. I suspect that the Autobot shrink might know as well." Cause Vortex. Always Vortex. "While I can keep an optic on Rung, I need someone to deliver a message to the mnemosurgeon about exposing our personal weakness. We can't go on doing what we do best if we have incentive, also known as blackmail, against us."
It is what Blast Off wanted to hear! Well, even better would be *I'll give Whirl a chance* but... he's going to take what he can get, and this is reassuring. It even sounds like he understands he was out of line with Whirl, so hopefully that won't happen again. The shuttleformer's armor plates fluff up, this time in a much more contented mood.
Well, contented until Onslaught brings up the subject of Chromedome. At this, Blast Off's demeanor dampens again, armor flattening and he leans a little forward in his chair now. Violet optics watch Onslaught intently. "Yes." The Sub Commander's cultured voice is calm and serious. "It's something that's concerned me since I learned of it, which is..." He glances away briefly, "Well why I knew it was so important to let YOU know. I agree completely, it's worrisome that an Autobot- a /mneumosurgeon/ no less- knows our secret." Mneumosurgeon is pronounced in a way that leaves no doubt Blast Off holds zero trust or fondness for him. He frowns, looking even more concerned that now apparently even *Rung* knows about this, too, and gives Onslaught a nod. "Did you want me to do it, Sir?"
"If you can give Chromedome a... talking to. Combaticon style. I think it should be efficient enough." Onslaught smirked beneath his mask. "I trust you still know how to do that well." He puts a warm hand on Boff's helm. "I know you might ask if I have considered Vortex, but... he's already done much secret telling to others." In other words, Vortex compromised them. Air Raid and Rung knowing is concerning. "I also want to save him if things get worse. Something I don't expect but am prepared for. Not to mention you have an... elegant way of confronation."
Blast Off leans in, violet optics gleaming. He gains a slight smirk of his own, which is visible on his face. Yes, the sniper is quite familiar with good ol' Combaticon style. Doing stuff like Combaticons- good times. And then Onslaught's hand is on his helm, causing Blast Off's optics to widen and pale as he gazes into his Commander's visor. He is silent and still for a moment before fluttering back to life. "Uh, yes. Yes! It would be my... " He swallows a little, feeling that warm touch from that big broad hand, "...pleasure." The shuttleformer draws in a vent of air quickly and tries to straighten a bit in his chair. "Yes. Understood, Commander. I will let him know what we expect of him... And yes, Vortex might just be in the way that time, unfortunately."
Onslaught frowns now, something obviously bothering him. "Vortex admitted he has been talking to others about the box. Not the one with Whirl, since he conveniently forgot about it. But to Air Raid. Who knows if that one will use it against us next? You think you can curb Tex's behavior, Blast Off?"
"He told AIR RAID??!!" Blast Off nearly shoots out of his seat. "The TURBOTURKEY!?!" HOW DARE HIM!!!!!!! (Never mind that Blast Off told Whirl that one time.) The shuttleformer huffs angrily, scowl adorning his dark face. It's a familiar sight. He twitches indignantly, tailfin clicking and wing elevons fluttering before he calms again. "That *idiot*. The Aerialbots know now? What, why not tell the entire ship? Primus!"
Blast Off smacks his hand to his forehead, dragging it down his face before looking back up at his Commander. The shuttle's shoulders droop. "I... I can try, but... well, you know how Vortex is. He's... he's stubborn." He bites his lower lip and gives Onslaught a firm nod. "But I will try, Sir!"
"I also have a suspicion that Vortex is telling too much to the Autobot psychiatrist. But I can't confirm." Onslaught sits back in his chair and ex-vents. "That is too many mecha knowing our story. And more than enough to spread it around if they desire."
"Indeed," Blast Off laments, optics dimming. "I worry what some of these Autobots in power would do with that information, especially down the road should things ever go sour somehow. I'll have a word with Vortex. Permission to shoot him if if I need to, Commander?" He gives Onslaught a wicked little hint of a smile, just a curl to one side of his mouth. "Just a little. If needed."
"I have a possible idea of how to reduce those odds against us, but that might depend on how well your talk with Chromedome goes." Onslaught sounds smug again. "It does mean that, for now, we have to really keep low." He shakes his head. "Having Vortex doing security is going to do us no good when we already give the rest of the bots a weapon against us."
Blast Off looks up hopefully at his Commander. Of COURSE Onslaught already has a brilliant plan, he always does! The shuttleformer perks up a little bit at this. "I'll do my best, Commander. I know if anyone can make our odds better, it will be you." He's not brown-nosing, he really believes it with all his spark. The happy surge this thought gives him suddenly clashes up against a certain realization about a certain piece of information of recent big events in his life that he has yet to inform Onslaught about, but... is this really the time?
As Onslaught continues on about Vortex, Blast Off focuses on that instead, his mood sobering. "...Yes. I hope he gets enough intel as a security guard to make this worthwhile. It still feels... *wrong* somehow seeing him on the "other side", as it were."
Onslaught shrugs. "So long as he doesn't fully go to the other side. I can only deal with you two... courting... mecha from the other faction." Grumbles about that for a moment. "I worry that I will lose my Combaticons fully."
Oh frag. Blast Off tenses as soon as Onslaught says that, looking up at him with wide, violet optics. He quickly looks away again, trying to compose himself as he debates informing Onslaught that he just agreed to become conjunx endura with Whirl. This suddenly feels a thousand times harder. Looking back at his Commander, he states quietly, "No matter what happens, Onslaught..." His hand lifts up as if to reach for the other but he hesitates and it falls back, "No matter what happens, you will never lose me. Even if Whirl is a big part of my life, I will never forget what I came from, and who helped me. How YOU helped me." His lips thin and he adds, tone even softer, "You know my loyalty to you will never break."
"I am no fool. As soon as any of you have someone else in your lives, you'd leave. Your loyalty might be true, but you can't divide your loyalties evenly. It would be either me or Whirl, and you would have to make that choice." Onslaught's visor dims considerably. "Accepting your relationship- even if was with another Decepticon or a Neutral- would mean that I accept that I am no longer your priority. That I already plan for you to be gone. I do not want to plan for that." He looks at Blast Off now. "If it was with another Decepticon, it would be easier."
This is painful. Blast Off loves Whirl, but Onslaught and he have a relationship that goes back millenia. A relationship they always counted on each other for, one that required absolute devotion and honed, precise coordination, a meeting of the minds as it were, to survive despite all the hazards thrown their way. Blast Off cares deeply about his Commander, maybe even has always had a bit of an unspoken crush, but has never acted on it. He couldn't compromise their team that way, not in the midst of war. And now here's Onslaught admitting that Blast Off is important to him.
The shuttleformer's face falls, and he does lean towards Onslaught, bringing his hand to Onslaught's arm. "I know. I'm... I'm sorry, Commander. ...Onslaught. But you're wrong on one count, I can't ever accept a situation that means you're not around anymore. I never want to choose between you and someone else. We're Combaticons, we're a team, and Primus forbid I was the one to break us up, right?" He tries to give Onslaught a hopeful little smile, though it's a rather rusty and awkward thing.
Onslaught looks at Boff, then pats the hand on his arm. "We will see. One thing at a time. It is not like I have to worry about you commiting yourself to Whirl as a conjunx endura yet." He then stands. "For now, Chromedome. Let's get ourselves back to being revered and feared."
ONSLAUGHT PATTED HIS HAND. Blast Off 's energy field crackles at that, armor plates floofing slightly before settling down again. SENPEI NOTICED ME. He feels a little better, yeah this will be ok, yes, totally. Then Onslaught speaks of conjunx enduras. Blast Off freezes. Eventually a strangled little laugh comes out, the only response he can think of right now. HA HA HA oh Primus he's dead. Or Whirl is. But wait, oh yes, distraction: "Chromedome! Yes, I'll get on that right away, Commander!" Yes, he'll get that done, make Onslaught proud and happy, THEN break the news to him. Yes, that'll work.
Onslaught puts a hand on Boff's head and makes to leave. "Give me a report as soon as it is done Blast Off." He tells him, giving one more look at the other mech before walking out of the room.
Blast Off looks up at Onslaught, giving him a nod. "Understood." Oh Primus, he should tell Onslaught, he SHOULD tell Onslaught....but he doesn't, instead letting him walk out of the room. Ugh. Pathetic, Sub Commander, just pathetic. Blast Off mentally kicks himself, then assures himself he'll tell Onslaught AFTER the successful completion of his mission because then at least he'll have good news to balance the bad! Yes. Totally will work. Then Blast Off goes back to drinking, and drinks quite a bit.