Crashdown: What's Your Deal?

[Oil Slick]

Oil Slick spends some time observing the group, noting that the the little orange 'bot appears to be eccentric, and possibly the most easily provoked.

The cycle-bot slinks among the crowd, hunching his posture, before crouching as he gets to the edge, scooting out, and looking around, as if he were paranoid. He raises a hand to his face, cupping his mouth a bit, directing a "pssst!" at Whirligig. "Hey, little guy! C'mere... Wanna see something neat?" After saying this, he glances around, using one hand to lift his makeshift poncho, and reaching inside, pulling a small vial from subspace, but keeping it hidden for the time being.

Hopefully, the small one takes the bait.

[Optimus Prime]

Okay, now we are talking. "I'm sure you could. Your 'friend' is welcome to contact us direct."

Optimus sighs as he fouls up with a radio transmission to Elita. It's surprising his vocalizer can focus so well with a stabilizing servo shoved in it. He focuses his frustration at himself towards the people insisting on reparations.

Optimus looks over his shoulder. So that is that Starscream person he's heard so much about. Okay.

[SceneMod]

"Miner, huh?" the alien asks, suddenly very interested. "Yeah, that's useful... that's very useful." He gives Skid-Z a wary look, all to aware that even though he's got numbers overall, there are more of these robots in the immediate area.

"The contacting, though... that's the question. Youse folks seem quick to fix-up and leave... just how do we contact you if you get your rocket flying again, huh?" he asks. "This'll give us, well, time to consider how you can make... restitution."

Then Oil Slick tries to draw Whirligig's attention, and the alien stiffens a moment, then spins towards the robot. "Hey! Hey! Who told you you could work this street?" he demands of the poncho'd robot.

[Whirligig/Wednesday Gilgamesh]

"A miner? Me?" Whirligig makes a good show of sounding boggled by the assumption. "No, sir! I was a good old-fashioned rock farmer! Helped tend this big old field of deliciously shiny black volcanic stock out on the wide open plains of Western Aktukta. It ain't easy farming rock, let me tell you. You gotta get the conditions juuust right or they don't grow none."

He sounds sincere. He really does.

"Blowin' them up's how you seed 'em," he puts in as an afterthought.

He would go on, but there's an incredibly skeevy looking fellow calling for a 'little guy'. He puts on a big show of staring at Oil Slick, glancing around at everyone as though looking for some other little guy, before pointing at his chest with a surprised 'Who me?' expression. Still, skeevy is interesting, and so he shifts several steps towards the Decepticon in disguise.

"Oi, Poncho Man, you're making our buddy anxious," he says with a grin, jerking a thumb at the incensed alien. "You aren't trying to flash me or anything, are ya?"

[Skid-Z]

Seeing as how things seem pretty handled for the moment, Skid-Z lets his gaze wander around the area. Well, at least until someone mentions to him they need help.

-----------
Doing this unless noted otherwise, so skippable

[Oil Slick]

"Yes, yes, you," Oil Slick answers Whirligig's befuddled look, and cuts a glare at violin-man. "My boss did. And he doesn't take kindly to others interfering with his workers' jobs. And I'm just talkin' to one of 'em, don't blow a gasket," he hisses.

Then Oil Slick turns back to Whirligig, and shakes his head. "Nonono, not a 'flasher'. Just looking to sell things," he answers, pulling the previously covered hand out, and holding the vial in front of Whirligig's face. "Here - a lovely little fuel additive" he pitches, lightly shaking the vial to try and continue to hold Whirligig's attention, and leaning forward a bit. "It'll maximize the fuel efficiency, and even augment your strength to a great degree. Great for if your bigger comrades are pushin' you around a lot..."

Of course, Oil Slick is lying. The vial actually holds an agent used for increasing aggression...

[Optimus Prime]

Talking. Talking Talking Talking.

Optimus has had enough. "We won't leave until fair restitution is made. I will give you my personal frequency and we will contact you. Now. I am going to ask you to get out of the way so that we can start that."

[SceneMod]

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the alien tosses the tommy gun back to one of his 'friends' and, with his newly freed hand, absently waves away Optimus Prime's comments. "Though more likely, we'll call you, but if you do needa contact us, try the Crossroads bar down at Sky and Fifth, and ask for Lehn-nee." And with that information hurridely spat out (although you can bet he'll be listening for the radio frequency in return), he immediately turns away and strides right towards Oil Slick.


"So your boss told you you could work our street, huh?" the alien challenges Oil Slick, tone and expression now losing even the faint act of friendliness it had with Optimus. "Well, see, now, that's a problem, because if your boss thinks he's got any say on what goes down on this road without having a talk with my boss first, well... like I said, we got a problem. So, you know, I'd like to know how I could get ahold of your boss or, well... I might be forced to send a message back through you, you know?"

[Whirligig/Wednesday Gilgamesh]

Whirligig stares blankly at the vial Oil Slick is holding for a moment then promptly bursts into whoops of laughter. He laughs hard enough that he ends up leaning over and bracing his hands against his knees. "Oh geez, oh geez," he manages to say between guffaws, "There was time I would've taken you up on that offer like that!"

Trailing off into snorts and giggles, he adds, "But, dude, it ain't size that matters. It's what you do with what you got. 'Sides, even if I wanted it, like I told that guy-" He jerks a thumb at the alien currently antagonizing Oil Slick. "-I don't got any money. You should really work on your eavesdropping skills. Hee hee."

Continuing to snicker quietly, he watches the confrontation between Oil Slick and Mr. Grumpypants with great interest. This kind of posturing is much more entertaining. For the moment, anyway.

[Oil Slick]

Oil Slick's jaw clenches at both Whirligig and violin-man. He looks up at the alien, narrowing his optics. "...your boss may contact him at <frequency that Shockwave provided>, at your superior's leisure. My apologies for cutting in... Though can you blame me?" As Oil Slick asks this, he tilts his head slightly at the group. "Just let me finish up with the short one, and I'll be on my way..."

Then Oil Slick turns to Whirligig, cutting a glare. "Well, I was going to offer you a free sample, but you had to go and throw insults. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, berating a poor 'mech, down on his luck and attempting to make ends meet, you sparkless little--" Oil Slick swings his hand at Whilirgig to point at him, and the vial slips, going from the chemist's hand, through the air and breaking against Whirligig's helmet.

Oil Slick gapes in faux horror, stumbling back. "...y-you owe me for that vial!"

---

OOC: Vial-smashing on Whirligig done with player permission.

[Tasha Walker]

Blackarachnia is not trying to blend in with the locals at all.

She is leaning against a wall, arms crossed over her chest, very intently watching the goings on around Optimus Prime.

She has not yet spied a certain gold bot off to the side helping bystanders.

//So forceful, so commanding,// she drawls privately to Optimus over radio, //Almost makes one think you actually earned that rank, it does, Prime.//

[Optimus Prime]

Optimus moves to intercept Whirligig's shenanigans with Mysterious Poncho-Bot. Unfortunately some strange frequency contacts him to deride him. That's weird. But it sounds like... Elita?

Given their previous conversation, Optimus approaches the matter gently. It seems odd that she'd then radio him to insult him. And what is with the other frequency? Does she not think he'll recognize her voice?

He raises his head to activate his comm unit, he radios Elita on her regular frequency.

"...Did you just contact me on a new frequency?"

[SceneMod]

Violin-man's expression pulls back into a snarl. "No, there ain't no 'finishing up'! You're done, now gi-" and he cuts himself off as the vial goes flying from Oil Slick's hand to Whirligig's. He spins back towards Oil Slick and exclaims, angrily, "What did I just say?! Youse think I'm stoopid or something? No pushin' on our turf, and no 'free samples' to go and draw folks away from our turf!"

[Whirligig/Wednesday Gilgamesh]

Whirligig returns Oil Slick's glare with a grin, amused at the faux-drug dealer's remarkably negative response. He hadn't even been trying to insult the guy! "Hey buddy, I was just warning you, I ain't buying what you- 'Ey!"

Quite suddenly he finds himself with liquid dripping down his face and it takes him a moment to realize that a vial of drugs did, in fact, just collide with his head. "Oy, grease-fingers!" he snaps at Oil Slick, and hey, that came out rather angrier than he expected.

There's a sort of itch burning at the back of his skull, one he hasn't really felt since the time he would have been interested in Oil Slick's proposed fuel additive, back when he was newly minted and hadn't learned to be comfortable in his own chassis. He'd felt like a 50-ton bot in 500-pound body, and it had made him... volatile. He would pick fights with bots several times his size like that would somehow prove he was bigger than he was, and when they inevitably crushed his sorry aft into the ground the humiliation had only fueled his aggression further.

It was a sorry chapter of his life that he put behind him a looong time ago, but he's starting to feel that way again. Only... worse.

"What the slag d'you think you're doing, ya stripped gear!" He advances on Oil Slick. "You don't just go throwing your scrap at people and I don't owe you nothing, you no-good, slag-suckin', spawn of a-" The Violin-man is yelling at Oil Slick, too. Whirligig finds that really, really irritating at the moment, though he's not sure why. He's too busy getting swept up in his tide of aggression to give it much thought.

"I'm shouting here, gut-sack!" He's remarkably loud for a little guy. "Shove off!" His attention now redirected to the alien 'violinist', he adds a contradictory, "You wanna piece of me?!"

He always preferred to start fights by mouthing off rather than throwing the first punch.

[Oil Slick]

Oil Slick is nervous for a moment as the violinist grows angry...

Then his slight grimace curls up into a devious grin as the little orange 'bot proceeds to flip out, initially at Oil Slick, but the reaction to the angry alien?

Oil Slick couldn't have even hoped for such a reaction. Oh, glorious!

However, he manages to compose himself, putting on a look of sheepishness, slowly backing away, trying to get out of immediate reach, and get to a good vantage point to slip off into an alley... "I...perhaps you're right, this was a mistake... Either way, you have contact for my boss, so I'll just be going."