| abstract
| - MAY 31 2011 Image:Doac jpg.JPG Psykeout sits in the corner of the El Sleazo Cafe, his one arm resting on the table and his fingertips running up and down the glass of energon sitting in front of him. The waitresses are fawning over him, making sure that he has everything he wants and needs. One sits across from him, smiling at him dreamily... There are a collection of mechs and femmes congregated outside of the El Sleazo, each of the curiously tailing one small femme. Swivel walks with a careless air, and is only protected by the morbid curiosity of the sorts of people who gather to crashes sites. For now, no one has attempted to take her down.... Swivel pauses at the El Sleazo, pausing and glancing at the pictures posted just outside of the El Sleazo. She remains perched there for a bit, just staring. Wrench stands outside the door, looking down at Swivel, his optics flickering softly. He jerks a thumb towards the picture and smiles softly, "You like what they're sayin' about you? I have to doubt that there's any truth to it, but I can't help but to think that there is a possibility. I'm...I'm going to let you in, but you know that you're going to be watched intently. I'll keep watch over you two, but I have to warn you that your boyfriend is getting a little extra special treatment." He pauses and looks down at her, "Are you going to be talking to him or did you just come here for the crowd?" Swivel is distracted from the pictures by Wrench. She glances over and up at him for a moment or two, listening to him with a blank expression. However, she soon resumes her trademark smile and rolls her shoulders, tilting her head towards the crowd. "Wellum... I acshully ain' much fer crowds, but I ain' gonner yell at 'im fer followin' me coz they ain' bein' a real bother, yanno?" She pauses a moment glancing at the door. "An I ain' worried 'bout bein watched. Ain' 'ere ter cause trouble, yanno. Jus 'ave some tings ter say to, my, uh, boyfriend as ya put it." Wrench nods solemnly and pushes open the door, "Go right ahead, Swivel. I will keep an eye on you, rather than a stranger. I'll also keep an eye on Psykeout, making sure that neither one of you does anything stupid until this investigation is done. Hope that you don't mind. I can't imagine you'd prefer someone else..." Swivel shakes her head. "Naw, yer a solid feller. An if Psykeout says anythin' bout me callin' you a liar, tha wun my intenshun." She smiles to Wrench and then heads into the El Sleazo. Once insde, the femme glances around until she spots Psykeout and his little fan club. She smirks and chuckles to herself at the sight. Wait... wasn't there a time she'd have been looking at him like that? Well, not quite like that. Swivel's optics flicker and she walks over to Psykeout's table. Wrench nods and goes over to sit at the bar. Psykeout looks up from the people at the table, taking note of Swivel's approach, "Well, well, well. How interesting that you actually choose to show up in here. There are plenty of reasons why you should be hiding. My arm and my eye are both gone because of you. What did you come in to do now? Take out one of my legs?" A wave of snickers and chuckles go through the crowd around Psykeout. A few jeers come at Swivel, "You gonna beat me wit my arm, too?" Another voice, "Don't putcher eye out, Swiv..." The comments continue and Psykeout leans back, smiling. Swivel glances over at the jeering and laughing. She shrugs and joins in the laughing, unabashed and unaffronted by it. "If I's ter to do all o' tha' to yall, it'd make Psykeout less speshul.... an we all wanner make 'im feel ther love, dun we?" Swivel waves a hand dismissively at the rude comments and turns her attention back to Psykeout. "You look moighty cute with an eyepatch, yanno that? Prolly why all ther femmes 'er flockin' to ya..." she says pleasantly before leaning forward, still smiling. "I 'spect tha since I'm turnin' myself overr fer investigation, we'll get yer full cooperation as well, roight?" The comments and jeering settle down a bit, as Psykeout waves his hands. His voice rises above the murmuring that continues through the bar, "Of course. I have proof of what happened. You don't. Why wouldn't I cooperate?" Swivel places a hand on her hip, her fingers tapping n an alternating sequence as she looks down at Psykeout. "Oh yeah, I seen yer proof. An' I dun suppose ya'd tamper wit ther evidence none 'coz we both know they'd be able ter tell, roight? Yeah... ya'd be ter smart fer that... but all ther same I ain't worried none. This'll eventually blow over... an' I doubt the authorities 'er gonna take me down, an' if they do, I just serve some time." She gives a shrug. "One thing I'm conf'dent 'bout is they ain' gonner execute me." Psykeout taps the shoulder of the young femme sitting next to him, "You're confidence isn't in good form. You don't know what's going to happen, unless you just so happen to have one of the officials under your wing. Perhaps changing his oil in that 'special' way or something like that." He pauses, taking a sip of energon and slipping out of the booth, "What the frag do you really expect to do, Swivel? You going to attack me in front of all of these people? Really?" Wrench steps away from the bar and pats Psykeout on the chest, "Slow it down, big guy. Don't want to have to take you out if I don't have to." Swivel shakes her head and continues to smile, glancing at the other femmes. "Well, I dunno any law 'ficials... my confidence comes from sum'ere else." She stands up straight and stretches. Psykeout brushes off Wrench's hand and takes another step closer, "Where might that be, Swivel?" Swivel points a finger at Psykeout. "You." Psykeout arches an optic ridge, "How so? Swivel just smiles and shakes her head. "Ain' gonna say in front o' a crowd." Psykeout motions towards the roof, "Want to take it somewhere more...private?" Dusty from travel, and dinged up from a certain mishap or two, an unfamiliar femme walks into the El Sleazo. "Charming name, isn't it?" she murmurs to herself. Moonlight might not know Cybertron, but she knows bars and other social places. Noting the cluster of femmes around Psykeout, her optics roam over in that direction as she looks him over. Appearances must be decieving because he doesn't look like much. Then she takes a look at Swivel, who is sitting opposite and not with the other femmes. Interesting. Swivel lets out a bark of laughter that eventually simmers down into a girlish giggle, and then glances at the crowd. "Oh yes, let's go ter the roof... that's a SMART idea!" She shakes her head, glancing around again, only to notice another femme entering. "Oy, anudder o' yer fan club late fer the party?" Swivel asks, thrusting a thumb backwards towards Moonlight. Psykeout nods, "Of course. Here to bask in the greatness that is...me." "Fan club, what?" Moonlight queries, her optics obscured by the shadow of her hat brim. She holds up a hand and shakes her head. "No, no. I'm not from around here. Just came to get a drink. Had a bit of a rough tumble and all." She looks over Psykeout. "Your talents must not be in your appearances...you don't look like much," she points out, truthfully but with good nature. Swivel takes a longer look at the femme, trying to keep herself from bursting out into laughter again (and failing). Regaining her composure, she says, "Oh.... sorry, guess I oughtn't be makin' 'sumptions. Well I ain gonner keep ya from yer drink an... Welcome ter Cubicron...?" She isn't sure what the femme means by 'from around here', or rather, on which scope she means it. Swivel turns back to Psykeout. "Til this investigashun's over, I ain gonna go en'where private wit ya. I think it's safer fer both us tha' way." Psykeout snickers softly, turning on his heel and moving back towards his original table, filled with his fan club. He completely ignores Moonlight as he does moves past her. However, just before he gets to the table, there is a fight that erupts in the other side of the bar. Wrench moves to try to separate the two femmes that have begun to tear off each other's armor and most of the attention of the bar is focused on the fight, including what could possibly happen... "Care to share the joke?" Moonlight asks Swivel with a faintly disarming smile. "Might as well welcome me to the planet too, while you're at it," she says with a small laugh of her own, indicating she's from off world also. She seems rather unaffected by the femme-fight, having seen her share in her time. However, she notes the symbol on Psykeout's chest. "Ooo, hey, you're one of those Decepti-thingies!" Swivel stands up and says, "Well, welcome ter Cybertron! I really woulna figgered ya from not bein' round 'ere, ya fit in soo well! As fer ther joke, there's none, I'm jus' easerly amused" she proclaims cheerfully. However, the ceer falls off of her face when a fight breaks out, and her first reaction is to turn and look over at Psykeout. Whilst it isn't an accusing glance, it's more of a 'I got my optics on you' look. However, that brief call of seriousness is banished when he is referred to by the new arrival as 'one of those Decepti-thingies.' and she laughs. Again. Psykeout watches the fight with rapt attention and Wrench manages to separate the two femmes, pulling them apart and they continue to try to get back at each other. One of the women catches glimpse of Psykeout and a screech fills the air, "YOU FRAGGIN' PIECE OF SLAG!" She pushes away from Wrench and storms over towards the table, "I'm glad that little femme did exactly what you had coming. You disfigured me, Psykeout. You didn't even apologize or even try to fix what you did to me," She takes a step closer to him, pulling a pistol out of sub-space and aiming it at Psykeout's crotch-plate, "I should've done this many mega-cycles ago..." She fires the pistol and it catches Psykeout directly where she was aiming. He grasps his crotch with his one hand and falls to his knees. The femme manages to rear her foot back and catch him in the other optic, thereby blinding him totally. None of the femmes in his 'entourage' step in to help, but just sit back and watch with interest. Wrench watches from the bar, not interested in helping the Decepticon. Actually, none of the bar is interested in helping the psychologist. He's...actually alone, as the femme continues to hit and beat on him. The femme stomps and kicks Psykeout, until finally his systems begin to shutdown one at a time. His optics grow dark, as he continues to lay on the floor, being beaten by this femme and completely unable to defend himself. Wrench, once again, just continues to watch. None of the other patrons seem the least bit interested in helping, as at one point or another, Psykeout has disfigured everybody in this bar at one time or another. "Thanks. I think," Moonlight says to Swivel, smiling again. "And I probably seem to fit in because I've seen my fair share of dives in my travels. They don't change that much from planet to planet." And there's one person who hasn't been disfigured by Psykeout...or anyone else for that matter: Moonlight. Shrugging her shoulders she walks over to the ANGRY femme and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Easy now, I think you got your point across. Why not settle down and have a drink, yeah?" Swivel's face drops as another femme goes... psycho on Psykeout. Her hands twitch as she watches, and she glances nervously at the door, then back at the scene, then at the crowd of people who... are just watching. She throws her hands to the sides of her head. "What's wrong with these people..." she mutters under her breath. She takes a step towards the exit, then spins on her heel and inches towards the scene, then stops. She repeats this back and forth motion a few times while Psykeout gets beaten, then finally mutters "Gonna regret his... I know it..." and begins to head over to them... only to realize that the off world femme got there first. This.... this could go nice, real nice. Someone else to... but.... she sidles over to the foreigner, ready to assist if the femme turns and attacks her, while keeping an occasional optic on Psykeout. Psykeout lies on the floor, fluid emanating from every possible joint in his frame. There are no signs of functionality from the psychologist, as Moonlight places her hand on the attacker's shoulder. The femme spins around, her optics wide with anger and hatred, "You don't understand. HE made me look like this. I used to function well. I was an Autobot with high hopes and dreams. I wanted to work alongside Optimus. I was in espionage, managing to work on both sides of the line. However, Psykeout got a hold of me and did this to my face," She points towards her face and the destruction of what he's done becomes evident. He exchanged her optic for a pair of fingers. Her aural unit has been changed out for a pistol. There is a Decepticon emblem soldered into the side of her face. She sighs and continues, "I've managed to get some of the work fixed through some of the medics here. But, I can't ever show my face in Iacon again. I'm...nothing. All my dreams shattered, because of..." She turns around, giving him another kick in the head, "HIM! Why do we deserve to be destroyed in this manner? Tell me that. Tell me how a drink is going to fix the megacycles of pain that I have gone through because of him?" Wrench steps off of the stool and walks over, "It's true, ladies. I've been here long enough. Psykeout is rather 'twisted,' as I am sure all of you know. But, Megatron has asked for him to be brought to Polyhex for reasons that shall be kept confidential. Let's just say that it's not just the mechs and femmes in Cubicron that have interested him," He waves his hand, "But, not my concern...Swivel, let me know when you ladies are done and I'll drag him back to Polyhex. He won't be bothering anyone around here anymore." Moonlight shakes her head. "The drink won't solve anything," she admits to the ANGRY and DISFIGURED femme. "It's just a temporary boost to your mood to calm you down momentarily." Swivel listens to the femme's rant and frowns trying to wedge herself between the femme and the downed Psykeout. "Oy, 'e ain't feeling' anytin' now, so kickin' 'im ain' makin much o' diffrence by this point..." she says sternly. She glances over at Moonlight for a moment, then at the disfigured femme. "Take a 'break, get a drink.... an..." she trails off when Wrench steps over and begins his speil. Swivel throws up her arms, glaring briefly at Wrench. "Woah, HOLD UP!" she says, dropping her gutter speech. "When me and the ladies are done? Done what? I did not push him, I did not disarm him, and I am NOT going to stand by and let this continue any further! There's no need for this because if you take your revenge you are just playing into this twisted little games!" She pauses.... her optics suddenly going wide and she looks momentarily horrified. "Er, I mean, uh... ya, yall gonner jus.... become like 'im an'..." she adds weakly, trying to cover up her break in the persona she tries to portray. "An..... shoot." Swivel stands ready to keep anyone from doing any further harm to the Decepticon, only going to allow Wrench past her. Moonlight shakes her head. "The drink won't solve anything," she admits to the ANGRY and DISFIGURED femme. "It's just a temporary boost to your mood to calm you down momentarily." She frowns a little bit. "I don't know anything about these Autobots, or Optimus, but it seems to me if you can let go of your vendetta for now, it will be easier to get yourself fixed up." Her optics scan the femme appraisingly. Yeah, Psykeout sure made a mess of her. "Anyhow, if these 'Bots are so concerned about appearances, I say they're probably not worth working for. But that's just my two-creds." She shrugs her shoulders. Looking over at Swivel, noting the break in persona, she quirks a little grin at her and files that away for later. Then she squarely looks at Wrench. "So, you know the Decepti-folks enough to march him back home?" This seems to interest her for the moment. Then she looks down at the leaky Psykeout. "Hope they're not all modeled after this fellow here." She shakes her head in a sort of 'what can you do?' attitude. Wrench's optics flick up to Swivel and Moonlight, but he doesn't say anything. He pushes through the crowd and grabs on the back of Psykeout's helmet, pulling him towards the door. Suddenly the femme grabs the ener-sword from Wrench's waist, turns it on and cuts off Psykeout's feet. Her voice screeches, "Now I am done!" Wrench's optics flicker and he finally pulls the Decepticon psychologist out of the door and into Cubicron, the crowd splitting to let him through and a round of cheers erupting from all that have gathered, both inside and outside of the El Sleazo Cafe. A few voices can be heard over the others, "He finally got what was comin' to him!" "Good riddance, Psykeout...I'm glad someone finally took care of YOU!" The jeers continue and the femme turns around to Moonlight and Swivel, wrapping her arms around their shoulders, "Now. Let's go and get that drink..." Swivel quickly steps aside to let Wrench grab a hold of Psykeout. She frowns a little, somewhat thankful that people are a bit too focused on the fact Psykeout has been taken down a notch to really care about her breech. When the femme goes for Wrench’s blade, she tries to intervene, but before she can really react, Psykeout's feet fall to the floor and she just stares, then glances over at the femme. There is little Swivel can do but tense up and give an unenthused and somewhat sheepish smile over to the femme when she wraps her arms around her shoulder. "Uh yeah... a drink..." she murmurs in a tiny voice. Moonlight is a bit smoother than Swivel when it comes to recovering. After all, feet are fixable. At least, more so than some of the delicate internal bits. Then again, Moonlight is no medic. "Anyhow," she says, addressing the ANGRY and DISFIGURED femme as well as Swivel, "my name is Moonlight." Just as if she hadn't seen someone beaten to a metallic pulp and de-footed. De-feeted? Whatever. Swivel turns to glance over at Moonlight, seeming to perk up a little. "Oh.... yeah, I'm Swivel. Pleasure ter meecha. Guess ya wun be writin' 'ome 'bout this bein' a borin' place, now, will ya?" she says, cracking a smile. She may not make quick recoveries, but they aren't any less full ones. Moonlight shrugs her shoulders. "Well, I won't be writing home saying much of anything one way or another. Not for a bit at any rate." She goes into no further explanation, but doesn't seem upset by the notion. "So, what do you all drink around here anyhow?" she asks, looking between Swivel and the ANGRY&DISFIGURED femme. Swivel shrugs her shoulder and glances over at the bar. "Well thar's a menu... I tend ter jus' usually go fer the cheap stuff coz... well... I ain hoity-toity 'nuff fer expensive thangs." She glances towards the door. "But... I think I'll forgo ther drinks.... there's sommer I gotter be gettin' to... but I'll see ya 'round, roight? Ya seem like a real nice sorter person, Moonlight."
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)