Flying the Friendly Skies

[Nimbus Tsura]

Skyblast smiles wanly at Mirage. The fussing, oh, he doesn't mind that, but being called 'love'... his panels shift and lock slightly, mostly hidden by his outfit. He reaches for his drink with his free hand and sips at it, not raising a fuss himself, but something strikes him, and his brow-panels furrow and knit together. Disbelief lacing his voice, ever so lightly, like a drop of bitters in a cocktail, he asks, "You've never seen me fight, have you? You actually believe me when I say I can fight?"

They called him an arrogant braggart at home, no matter how he demonstrated his skills. Mirage hasn't even seen Skyblast at work, and Mirage... believes him?

But ah, they have a mystery gift and note. Skyblast frowns when he sees it. He looks up at Mirage, and he says flatly, "Not to be rude, but I can't. Not after... well." Skyblast is not going to mention that he got a dressing down for fraternising when 'cons might be eavesdropping.

[Slugslinger]

If Slugslinger looks intelligent to anyone, he needs to work harder on his dumb thug act. Can't have folks catching on!

"Tsk tsk," he says, shaking his head. "Maybe I should keep you off the high grade for the rest of the night. Your memory's already gone fuzzy!" He adds, low enough that only Counterpunch should hear him, "We've gotta mind our manners, so watch it with the flying fists. I'm not getting raked over the coals 'cause you can't pull that stick outta your tailpipe and take a joke. Now c'mon. These two have even bigger knots in their exhaust manifolds than you do. We might as well say hello." And see how to best annoy them, he leaves unsaid.

Slugslinger takes a moment to make a show of settling the sash and trousers he isn't really wearing – and Unicron's dubious blessings upon the guy who sold Slugslinger's mugging victim that little holo-emitter so he wouldn't have to actually go shopping for some garment he wouldn't shred if he turned the wrong way – with his free hand before turning that smirk of his on Mindwipe and the little birdie.

"Sorry we're late," he says, not waiting for so much as a by-your-leave before he pulls a chair for Counterpunch. Still not really touching! This is one of very few times in his life he has no plans to yank it away at the last second. "Traffic was murder."

[Counterpunch]

Counterpunch narrows his optic band at Slugslinger, but otherwise doesn't give any indication of his anger. This is mostly due to lack of visible face, however. He growls out in a whispered rasp, "Might be worth getting in trouble if I drag you down with me."

Despite his words, however, he does seem to straighten up, even if he doesn't relax in the least.

The paranoid carformer seems to be assuming that Slugslinger will snatch his chair from beneath him even if the other doesn't intend it this time, and one hand automatically reaches back to hold the chair steady as he sits down and just... glares at Rook and... at Rook, actually. He does not look directly at Mindwipe. He knew his own realty's Mindwipe, and while this one might not be the same... better safe than sorry.

[Rook]

//I mean to say that despite his many shortcomings, it would be possible to make a proper gentleman out of him. Albeit difficult and likely extremely annoying,// Rook transmits privately to Mindwipe as Slugslinger and Counterpunch seat themselves.

"So delighted you could join us," he deadpans, slightly strained. "Indeed, I forgot to invite you at all, and yet you still managed to make it here. We've already ordered, I'm afraid, but I'm sure we can move to a larger table and get some menus for you," the crow finishes, raising an arm and snapping his claws for a waitress.

[Mirage]

Mirage pauses in his attentions, cuts his optics over at Skyblast as the jet stiffens. Oh, it's a subtle thing, but Mirage is attentive as a matter of course, and he has had much opportunity to study Skyblast over the last long months. Mirage bows his head, gives the barest of sighs. He has never met someone so afraid of being loved as Skyblast. Even Rodimus, burdened and weary as he is, doesn't react like this.

"Why would I not believe you? I have seen you in the air, and you are skilled, lithe and fast and brave. Why should you not also be deadly? Enough people underestimate me; I know better than to underestimate others based on appearances or attitudes."

Mirage doesn't refuse the bottle, but he also doesn't open it. Instead, he commits the frequency to memory and subspaces the note.

"I understand. I will point out that this would be more along the lines of intelligence gathering, which falls under my job description. Not taking advantage would be gross oversight. But I can certainly keep you out of it."

Mirage takes a sip of his drink as he opens up a channel to Rook.

//While I appreciate knowing that there are some of your ilk who understand the niceties of social interactions, you do realize you're interrupting a most lovely date, yes?//

[Mindwipe]

Hmn. Traffic was murder. If only, Mindwipe wishes, if only.

Counterpunch is wise to not look Mindwipe in the face - While his eyes are not his solitary vehicle of hypnosis, they does play a large part in the process. However, Mindwipe has no reason to turn his abilities on Counterpunch for the time being.

"Ah, yes... It would have been such a tragedy if you weren't able to make it..." Mindwipe says, optics narrowing as his fingertips drum on the table. That third one turns to Rook, though - //...perhaps he could, but would the results be worth the trouble?//

[Nimbus Tsura]

"I supposed I'm used to being called a braggart," Skyblast admits, sipping his drink, swirling it in his mouth thoughtfully. "It's really refreshing, you know, to be accepted at face value. I appreciate that. Thank you."

He smiles faintly, lopsidedly, as Mirage explains Mirage's job, and he nods, agreeing, "Dear, I wouldn't dream of keeping you from your job. I'm just quite aware that it's not my job to be doing. I'd ask you how you got into it, actually, but again... this may not be the time or place. I'd tell you to be careful, but I know I wouldn't be. I'm not."

[Slugslinger]

"Try to get me hauled up for review because of your malfunctions," Slugslinger warns very quietly near Counterpunch's audio receptor, all the good humour gone from his voice but the smile and the pleasant tone still firmly in place, "and whatever hell command gives us will look like a weekend in an Autobot stockade after I'm through with you." Then he gives Counterpunch a patronising pat on one shoulder before seating himself.

Not knowing what Counterpunch knows, Slugslinger turns a lazy, comfortable look on Mindwipe, then Rook. The little bird saves him the trouble of grabbing the first waitress to pass him by.

"Nonsense!" he says with the utmost aplomb. "I wouldn't dream of asking you guys to move now you've ordered. Besides, it'd cost this lovely bird a table." And he turns that smirk on the waitress who answered Rook's gesture. "Gimme paraffin layered with Stadis, would you?" he wonders, then pauses to look at Counterpunch. "My friend's had a little too much already tonight, so something light will be fine."

[Counterpunch]

Counterpunch narrows his optic band at Slugslinger. "You don't scare me," he growls, which is true enough. He has to be pretty brave to be doing what he does on a day to day basis, really. Or just nuts. "And everyone knows that the Autobot stockades are soft compared to ours, anyway."

The glare remains in place as Slugslinger orders for him, but perhaps oddly, he doesn't correct it - Counterpunch tends not to drink very heavily.

He doesn't really add anything else, however, just falling silent to listen to the other Decepticons. He doesn't seem to have noticed the Autobots in the room, but surely he can't be that oblivious?

[Rook]

//Ah, I do apologize for that,// Rook transmits back to Mirage, steepling his fingers as he turns to look at Slugslinger and Counterpunch, //but we must take our opportunities where we find them, yes? I simply wish for there to be lines of communication open in case they are ever needed. Enjoy your date.//

To Mindwipe, he replies //They might be. It is an interesting thought, in any case.//

"What brings you gentlemen here tonight?" he asks finally, laying his hands on the table.

[Mirage]

//And, why, exactly, would one of your sort think that such lines of communication might be useful, hmmm?// It's very clear by the slight emphasis on those two words that Mirage doesn't mean them in a complimentary manner. //Really, I do have standards.//

"Hmpf," Mirage quirks a slightly sad smile at Skyblast, optics downcast. "It is the job my skill sets are most suited to, love, but certainly not one I would have chosen as my lot in life. But let us not bring down the mood." Mirage reaches across the table to try and stroke Skyblast's cheek.

"Tell me more about yourself. We know so little of each other, really."

[Mindwipe]

Mindwipe ponders a moment, then replies at Rook. //I suppose it would be useful to be able to inflict him upon others at our own whim, as I doubt we could truly curb his abrasiveness completely. Hypnosis would only be temporary, and even then, he would be merely a puppet. I assume you're proposing some manner of social conditioning?//

The table is a mite crowded now, but Mindwipe will deal with it, for the time being. He's curious as to how the opened communication line has done so far, but as it was just opened, it's too soon to inquire. So instead, he turns to the others. "Yes, yes, what does bring you two out here?"

[Nimbus Tsura]

Skyblast purses his lips, wondering if now is really the best time to be discussing anything of any note at all, but Mirage's hand does feel good against his cheek. He sips at his drink, and he explains, "On my Cybertron, before the war, we were mostly divided into Military division, under the Lord Protector Megatron, and Science division, under his co-consul, Optimus... we didn't know him for a Prime until very, very shortly before the war. There were subdivisions within the division. Security was a part of Military, headed by Prowl. I was Security."

He looks at Mirage, trying to catch his optics. Yes, Skyblast was a mere security guard, not a planetary ruler or Matrix bearer or even a socialite of note. Perhaps this will change things between him and Mirage, but he was not afraid to admit as much. He is who is, and if that lessens him in Mirage's optics, Skyblast didn't need Mirage, anyway.

But even unnecessary things can be nice to have.

[Slugslinger]

Slugslinger gives the question a diffident shrug.

"Just getting out for some air," he says, "and since Counterpunch here looked like he could do with a good time, I talked him into coming along." He leers smugly and drapes an arm over the back of Counterpunch's chair, just barely not making contact. There's something new to his smile as he turns it on his companion. Counterpunch probably won't appreciate it, but that's half the reason Slugslinger does it at all. "Stubborn lugnut. Good thing I like a little fight." He turns back to Mindwipe, deliberately ignoring Rook. "You guys?"

[Counterpunch]

It's worth noting that Counterpunch is an insanely good actor. He spends most of his time lost in his role of easily angered Decepticon, but if he puts his mind to it, he can be convincing about just about anything he wants to be. Granted, anything that seems off for 'easily angered Decepticon' is going to seem suspicious, but easily angered doesn't necessarily mean, 'Never interested in getting some.'

(Though it does suggest that he likes it rough.)

Counterpunch finally concludes that the fastest way to get Slugslinger to lay off is to actually respond to the other's advances.

He leans back, and the move may well close that gap between him and Slugslinger's arm, then turns to look up at the Decepticon. He has little visible face to express with, but something about the way half his optic band quirks, about the way he just slightly lifts the shoulder nearest Slugslinger manages to convey interest as effectively as any pursing of the lips.

"You really think you're up to handling my fight?" he asks.

He glances at the others (though still avoids eye contact with Mindwipe - eh, Mindwipe's probably used to that sort of thing, anyway). "Yeah, he about has it right. Dragged me here. I didn't want to go at first," he grumbles, then shrugged, "then decided, 'why not?'"