| abstract
| - October 3, 2011 (Intelligence Compound, Polyhex) --- Loitering would be a very apt description of what Hookshot is doing about now, watching people come and go as they scurry about the Intel compound. He is positioned not far from the entranace to the windshaft, leaned up against a wall, still in an unremarkable black matte paint which is different from his usual flashy display. No one seems to bother about him. After all, their task is far too important to concern themselves with an idle mech, so long as he stands out of their way. Vortex is bored. Ever since the execution, he's been restless and unsettled. He'd thought it would be enough to see the traitor die - and it was rather a nice death - but it hadn't brought him the feeling of vengeful satisfaction he'd been hoping for. He notices Hookshot on second glance, and wanders over, recognising the form of the mech although not the paintscheme. "You went for dull," he says. "Makes a mech wonder why." Hookshot lifts his optics up to stare at Vortex as they emit a red glow. There is only the faintest hint of a smile as he responds, "I just have not got a repaint since I had the privelege of being part of Soundwave's questioning of Shred. I felt dull would just be more appropriate for the occasion, and I am very much so concerned with looking the part." In an instant, Vortex is no longer bored. He leans against the wall by Hookshot; so, this mech got to question Shred. "Why was dull more appropriate?" he asks, thinking that it better not be out of some misplaced sense of honour among Decepticons. Hookshot tilts his head to the side. "Mainly because I was an invisible voice in the room, I had to blend into the darkness. I could not do that if I were sparkly and bright, as much as I adore catching the optics of femmes." Vortex laughs. "Cause it makes you a better target?" he says, smirking. "Did she say how they did it?" he says. "I locked that door, and he couldn't have let them in." At least, he thinks he locked the door. He's pretty sure he did, anyway. But it doesn't matter, no-one should have been fragging around with his prisoner in the first place. Hookshot crosses his arms over his chest. "Hmm? Oh, CMO security clearance is actually fairly high. According to her, she shared that clearance with Robustus, who used it to access the prisoner. That still seems suspicious to me. She keeps denying she had any part but..." he glances at Vortex, stuydying him for a moment longer, as if deliberating something heavy, "...it doesn't matter who was guilty now. She's dead. Megatron made a statement. Everyone is happy. Except maybe Slipstream, but she can get over it." "It matters," Vortex says, his mood turning sour. "There's an Autobot out there who should be dead and two traitors who don't deserve to live. I wouldn't call that happy." Hookshot lets out a wry chuckle. "I am not sure that Lifeline is a traitor so much as just clever, but still... pulling on over on us does earn her a place in the pit. Robustus.... hmmm... he was always too soft to begin with. He was a necessary evil, but that is over now. And Shred, oh, Shred, with her reputations as a Grease Pit fighter, it really is a shock to most people, but not really to me. I think it was obvious to most she had a 'thing' for Robustus, and probably did this all out of some nonsense ideal such as love." He pauses a moment longer. "As for the prisoner, I'm sad to see him go. I was looking forward to sneaking in there and taunting him some more before you disposed of him." Some more? Vortex glares, resisting the urge to pick at that particular piece of rust. At least Hookshot hasn't denied that disposing of his was Vortex's right. "They're still alive," he says quietly. "It isn't over until they're dead." Hookshot grins more openly this time. "I would imagine so... but admit it... isn't there a certain thrill added to losing something once... and then hunting it down with abandon after? Or do you not revel in the thrill of the hunt, Vortex? Before he was merely brought to you, Vortex. Now he's out there, and it will be a game to see if you can get him back, perhaps toy with him a little from a distance. Same with the traitors." That would involve patience, something Vortex has been struggling with ever since he was first built. He huffs and slumps against the wall; one of his rotor-tips squeals over the surface. "Yeah, fun," he says. "Just wanted to snuff his spark," eventually. "Fraggers." Hookshot arches an optic ridge at Vortex and shakes his head. "Awe.... I see we aren't a very patient little interrogator. Well, perhaps we can find ourselfs a new chew toy to keep you occupied with until First Aid, Lifeline, or Robustus can be reclaimed. Have any preferences?" Vortex gives Hookshot a sidelong glance. "Condescending aft," he says. "I'm plenty patient." As though to prove the point, he deliberately resists punching Hookshot in the face. Hookshot places his hands on his hips and stares right back at Vortex. "Frag, yes, I am a condescending aft. And I outrank you, which means letting you be privvy to any information on Shred's questioning is a favor. Now show some slagging gratitude." Vortex slumps further, the mention of rank having had an effect. "Thanks," he mutters, and stares up at the ceiling. "Frag, I just wanna go kill something." Hookshot tilts his head to the side. "I could always fetch you a cute cuddly bumblepuppy." Vortex sniffs. "Something sentient," he says. Hookshot takes a long side step closer to Vortex and squints his optics. "Well I suppose you will have to use that patience which you claim to have and wait until you are given assignment out of Polyhex, or down to the Grease Pits for a fix. At any rate, I have a rendezvous in Cubicron coming up and I suppose I should prepare for that." "Repaint?" Vortex says, before he can stop himself. Hookshot smirks almost cruelly. "My, aren't you a wit. That is just a bonus errand on the side. Now then, should I stop in and say hello to your best buddy Rancor?" How the scrap does he know about that? Vortex forces himself to pause and think about it, and in the meantime try to control his temper. "He's not done something I should know about, has he?" he says. Hookshot shakes his head. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. I guess I can catch up with him while I am in the neighborhood. Just remember, I keep tabs on those just a rank beneath and just a rank above; make certain ambitions don't get in the way of our 'friendships'." Hookshot steps away coolly, a self-satisfied expression on his face. Vortex shrugs, and gives no indication that he's about to move any time soon (patience, he's gonna prove he's got it). "I'll remember," he says, and settles in to glare at Hookshot for as long as it takes him to leave. Hookshot chuckles softly to himself as he struts through the doors that lead into the windshaft.
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