Title: Drunken Politics

PCs: Torque, Airazor, Wheeljack

Location: Maccadam's Old Oil House

Date: 10 February 2015

Summary: Booze, politics, and a bird cop.

++ Maccadam's Old Oil House ++

Maccadam's Old Oil House is an old and respected establishment, run by the 
mysterious moustached, gold-plated mech that shares the joint's name. The  
lights are pleasantly low, but not so low one can't see everyone clearly;  
pleasant music, also at a low-key, is played in the background by a        
Cybertronian who turns into a piano. A stage in the back is set up for     
various local entertainers. The oval bar is center to the oil house, and   
the wide floor in the dome-shaped establishment has tables and chairs      
suitable for all sizes and frametypes. Booths line round wall, and near the
doorway are large picture windows facing the street.                       

The floors are a deep burgundy-red, while the bar, tables and chairs are a 
deep polished tan. The walls are dark gray, and a series of hovering       
automated lights follow patrons and servers around the bar, providing      
individual illumination on demand. A stained-glass like dome at the top of 
the bar is designed to look like Cybertron, with all five moons surrounding

The regular bartender, another moustached mech, is mostly a cool slate     
blue, with a bow-tie-like decoration across his 'collar'. A pair of        
incredibly tough, large mechs act as bouncers, as Maccadam does not allow  
fights in his establishment. All are welcome, regardless of frame, caste or
ideology. Regular patrons to the establishment may find their picture on   
the menu accompanying a favorite drink.                                    

O [Rodion]                         

It's a slow night at the old Oil House. Which is to say, there's a decent crowd. Mechs and femmes of the blockier kind mingle amongst themselves, the night providing welcome relief from the tensions of Cybertron's slow, inexorable drift towards cataclysmic war. Set off from the ground is the marshal from Animatron, a bot with a beast form who avoids the 'disposable' label through a more conventional primary mode and a bit of diplomatic immunity. Just a smidge. Airazor sits at her table, green optics slowly scanning the crowd. A slightly glowing, dark purple drink sits in front of her. No one seems eager to crash the table occupied by the femme sporting a crest of feathers.

No one except.. Torque! Though she doesn't crash the table, per say, and more meanders over after enjoying some time at the bar. With a violent, yellow concoction in hand, the femme beams when approaching Airazor, looking somewhat roughed up with the fading patches to chest and back as well as the fresh one on the side of her torso.

"Now there's some familiar feathers. You're that Animatronian femme that helped us out in that fight, yeah? ..Airazor, was it?" Torque beams bright, back to her sunny demeanor despite the recent happenings.

New jobs call for celebration, right! At least that is what Wheeljack has been told. His career track had been a downward one, and steady at that. Yet recently that turned around with a position at a high profile government facility. Drinking is a new experience for him so when he enters the Oil House, he's not sure where to go other than straight to the bar to place an order.

Airazor's optics flick upwards as Torque approaches. They dart from patch job to patch job, then to that drink. A small smirk crosses the falcon's features, though it has more in common with a smile than a put down. "Looks like you've been at it again." Airazor observes. Then, she gestures towards the seat opposite from her. "Take a seat if you're looking. Yes, I'm Airazor." If the invitation is taken, her smirk brightens into a more mirthful expression. "Though I don't think I caught your name through all the explosions and Insecticon chatter."

Torque's antennas flick up at the allusion to her patches, lips pursing faintly as optics look down at them. "Eheh.. yeah, sorta. Just got this one today. Bit itchy." She taps the one at her side before looking up and smiling delightedly at the offer to sit, gladly taking it. "Name's Torque. Gotta say, that was one heck of a fight, 'specially how you swooped in like that all quick-like!" She makes a 'swooping' motion with her hand. Yes, she's had a couple glasses so far.

But her attention meanders for a second as a sixth sense begins to tingle, forcing her to look over and spot Wheeljack entering the bar. "Heey, Wheeljack!" She pipes up, waving and glancing to Airazor. "Mind if he sits with us? Don't mean to intrude or anything."

Wheeljack takes a seat at the bar as he waits for his drink. Before it comes, he extracts a small cylinder from a compartment from his waist. It telescopes out and when his concoction is presented he sticks the tube in, bends the top so that it can do over his faceplate. Thus, her can drink without revealing his face! He sips and... "Whoah," he sputters as his optics blink and adjust. That was a lot stronger than he anticipated!

His name? Jackie turns when he ius called to. He gives a polite wave to Torque and her companion, who is a rather fascinating... wait, is that one of those non-vehicle types?! That makes him go, again, "Whoah!"

"The skies might be more crowded here, but I'm still the fastest thing under the sun. And I don't believe in a fair fight." Airazor replies to Torque, actually smiling now. She sips from her drink and gives no indication as to its potency. When Torque indicates him, the Maximal glances towards Wheeljack. Her feathers flex a little. Not just for show, those things. "I don't mind at all. I think I've been going about things all wrong, I haven't met enough of the native mechs." Airazor returns her attention to Torque. "How'd the get the latest patch?"

Torque smirks and nods, waving Wheeljack over to sit with them before turning attention back to Airazor as he dose. "Heh, well good, cause with the way things're going I don't think there'll be a whole lotta mechs left to fight fair with." A sip of her drink is also taken, but she's about five quarts to the wind right now, without even seeming it Primus bless her, so she's not all that reactive either.

Speaking of her wound, Torque skews lips and looks down at it again, shifting in her seat some. "It's kind've a weird story, honestly. Was gettin' scrap in Blaster City when some weird mech came outta nowhere and ran be through. But the strangest part was that he was.. I dunno, but he had a weird altmode." She sets her drink down and makes horns with two fingers. "Two big horns and one on his nose, and he could breathe fire! Said his name was Slag and I guess he fought in the Forge with Grimlock, who I sorta knew. I'm wonderin' just what happened to the poor mech." She's rambling at this point, so she'd be surprised if Airazor had any idea of what she was talking about.

Wheeljack brings himself and his drink over to Airazor's table, along with that clever induction tube of his. The flexing feathers gives the engineer pause in his approach though. He's not seen anything like them before but never would have thought they could do that! Fascinating! He does have to look at Torque though, who is more wounded than she had been after he saw her last, when he had patched her up. Another fight, already?!?! Wheeljack shakes his head... and says, once he reaches the table, "Hope the other bot looks worse than you do, Torque!" He holds his free hand to Airazor. "Jackie, " he offers, since any pal of TQ's...

"All kinds of odd alt modes these days," he chuckles as he slides into his seat. "I met an Insecticon once!" That was pretty exciting. "Slag? That's... colorful. Three horns, you mean like spikes? On his head?" That makes him think... "Bet that would be real effective for chargin' bots!"

"Sounds like one of my people." Airazor observes, as if she was able to cogenty follow Torque's semi-drunken ramblings. "I've met a lot of bots who had horns or tusks or the like. Though old Rhinox only has one horn, so I don't know that much about three horns." The Maximal shrugs. She glances at Wheeljack as he sits and then takes his hand. "Airazor." The falcon replies. "And, from my perspective, you're the ones with strange altmodes. I can't figure out how they work, to be honest. Your fliers have wings that don't move, some of you are just...stationary. It's been eye opening being on Cybertron these past solar cycles."

Torque snorts into her drink at Jack. "Yeah well, I was on the recievin' end of said charge, thanks very much. 'Course I just grabbed him and flipped him over, heh." But seriously, it did hurt. Back to Airazor, the femme gets an almost starry-opticed look about her when leaning in on her forearms. "I hope one day we'll be able to visit Animatron. Sure, we've got places like Velocitron and Caminus, but they don't have as unique altmodes as your planet does."

Another, big mouthful of engex. "I've read up on some Animatron stuff, and mech, do you all have some cool features! No wheels, fours legs on some of yah, and some without any limbs on their altmode!" She may have been looking at a snake altmode by that point. "Reminds me of some of the data class I've seen, two of which kinda look like you, except.. y'know, no cool feathers."

"Some of our alt modes baffle me too! Especially the ones that change size. We ain't got much of a need for that yet... we do!" Jackie has ideas about that, but doesn't elaborate right now. "Rhinox... that sounds, well, bold!" Wheeljack has an ongoing fascination with names and the meanings behind them. "Good t'meetcha' 'Razor. Sounds like yer a quick one," he chuckles as he can't help but eye some of her sharper features. He does blink to Torque... not for her being stabbed, but immediately his curiosity makes him ask, "What is a feather?!?!"

Airazor points to one of the things poking out of her head. "This is a feather. They're aerodynamic and help me maneuver when flying, as well as catching rising air to keep me aloft when I'm conserving power on the rest of my flight systems." The Maximal explains. "As for Animatron...I wouldn't expect it any time soon. My master will be less inclined to open the planet to Cybertronians the more chaotic Cybertron becomes. We do not want your conflicts to become *our* conflicts." The falcon points out matter of factly before taking a longer drink. "Though...being here, it does remind me that, deep down, we're all the same people. I've noted some resemblences too." Airazor replies to Torque.

Torque winces a little at Wheeljack's very sudden and very LOUD voice, prompting her to semi-drunkenly shove her hand over his faceplate. "Primus, you're a loud drunk. I need to teach you the finer points of drinkin' one of these days." Airazor's point brings a somewhat crestfallen appearance to the femme when she listens to her again, but ultimately nods. "Eh, y'make a good point. Things are goin' downhill pretty fast around here." And then antennas twitch back up, Torque tilting head slightly in curiosity. "What sorta resemblences would that be? Not that I disagree, I mean. I like to think there's somethin' that links us all, one way or another."

Wheeljack must. Resist. Urge. To. Pluck. That feather. "Ingenious!" He's thinking how much more air he could get in his automotive acrobatics if he coated himself in features..."Yeah, Cybertron's headed to unfriendly places," he sighs deeply. Wheeljack has seen it coming for some time now. "That's smart really. As resources become more scarce here, they'll be lookin' to gather 'em from elsewhere. Keepin' us off Animatron is for the best... though if fightin' does go there, you should let Torque on. She's willin' to sign up 'n sign on for it," he says proudly. "She's gonna fight for us all!" He sounds... proud.

Wheeljack then blinks. "You have a *master*?!?"

"Oh, many of us look the same." Airazor replies to Torque. "It's really just a matter of the extra stuff hanging off our backs, for most. Claws and carapaces instead of wheels and telescopes." Wheeljack's outburst gets a pair of green optics trained on him. "Of course I do." She says like it's the most natural thing in the world. "We don't have castes on Animatron. In fact, it's why we left. On Cybertron I'm disposable. On Animatron I'm a marshal in service to Victory Leo. If there is a war, and it comes to Animatron, I'll be fighting by his side." Despite her small size, Airazor does have a martial look. No science bot here.

Torque can't help the tinge of violet that rises to her cheeks when Wheeljack subsequently signs her up for battle, the femme rolling optics in embarrassment and bumping him lightly on the shoulder with her knuckles. "Yeesh, at this rate you're gonna be signing me up for suicide missions!" He has so much confidence in her, but she can't hate him for it. It's endearing, to be honest.

Turning amber gaze back to Airazor, she smirks and nods. "I'm sure one of these days we'll get rid of the caste system. Folks don't seem to realize that even the disposables have potential to do great things. But of course we're all just bound by our altmodes. Well, some of us." A glance to Wheeljack. "Still, once everyone's not trying to kill each other and the borders are open, I'd definitely like to visit Animatron and see just what you do there. It'd be so nice to be able to travel again."

Wheeljack is mindblown! Masters mean subjects, and that kind of social structure is so very foreign to him. Not that it is wrong, or bad, it is just different. "No matter what you want, ya' do what this Leo says? Don't sound much different than what we have here really..."

He is bumped. "You make it sound like you wouldn't do that herself," he chuckles. Jackie then nods and, continuing the trend of failing to control his volume, says, "Our system is so dumb. My mode means I should be a racer, maybe? I've blown up every lab I've been a part of yet... still allowed in 'em. Explain that!!"

Airazor goes quiet for a moment, her optics trained on some distant point on the ceiling. She sips her drink, sets it down, then thinks for another moment. "I imagine, that if you went to Animatron, you'd be as stunned by its quiet as I am by the endless *noise* on Cybertron. There are so many of you, and it's so wonder you're low on energon." The Maximal observes. "We have city states on Animatron, but nothing like Iacon or Rodion or Kaon...It's humbling, really. Cybertron really is where we come from and you can see that very plainly." Airazor shrugs off any further line of thinking in that direction. "Unlike a Prime Victory Leo earned his position. We don't have backstabbing Senators to tear Animatron apart. We have our loyalty and, if he doesn't prove worthy of it, I imagine he would not rule for long. But in my experience he is worthy."

"If they lifted the damn Clampdown we wouldn't be where we are, if you ask me. It's isolated us from everything, including trade, and has left us effectively stranded. I definitely agree about the energon situation, too. If we were allowed to leave then Cybertron wouldn't need to pass as much around." Torque sighs and shakes her head, gingerly sipping her engex now, as if that statement is making her savor it more.

"Victory Leo seems a swell mech, if you ask me. At least his people like him." As for Jack, she smiles weakly at him and wraps an arm around his neck to wrestle him in against her. "Maybe they're gluttons for punishment? I saw blow up all the labs yah like! Heck, beats sittin' around waiting for the war to bowl us over."

"It ain't just the Clampdown, but that sure helps... well, to not help us," Wheeljack mutters. "Maybe it's 'cause mine are so big," he says as he wiggles his ears. "But the ones in charge ain't listenin', mostly 'cause they don't gotta'."

Grabbed as he is, Jack leans against Torque. "Energon... it's almost gone." He says that so easily, with so much sadness. "It's gonna' get real ugly real soon." He looks to Airazor then up to Torque. "What's left... gonna' come down to who's willin' t'fight for it t'most."

"I feel for you Cybertronians." Airazor notes after considering what Torque and Wheeljack have had to say. "I would not look forward to the choices that you have to make." She doesn the last of her engex drink and moves to stand. The Maximal miles. "I'm glad to have met both of you. Try and stay out of trouble, as much as possible. I need to go settle my tab and to another city." The Maximal nods and then leaves.

Torque smiles weakly down at Wheeljack leaning into her and gives him a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder. "We've been around this long. I'm sure we'll figure something out." To Airazor, Torque's smile grows some. "Not gonna be easy, but I think we'll get through it when the time comes. And was good seein' yah again. Airazor. Hope to catch you around again sometime."

She raises her glass to see the femme off and looks back to Jack, grinning now. "C'mon, how about we celebrate your new job a little bit longer, then I'll carry yah home." Cause Primus know he'll be concious after this.

Wheeljack thinks sounds like a great idea, because that is so much better than replaying the shared stats on energon failures that he and Shockwave had. He moves to stand, leaving his drink behind... but that induction tube (straw) dangles from his faceplate. "Deal! Let me get round two..."

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