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| - Maccadam's Old Oil House, Translucentica Heights - Iacon Inside, Maccadam's Old Oil House is a chaotic shambles, most of the time. The chain has set up shop within Iacon as the Autobots' personal dive bar. While the bar will serve anyone, Rocky, the doorman and bouncer, who looks a bit like he might turn into an ape, doesn't seem overly concerned about breaking up fights, unless the bar is seriously imperiled. There is an upper level ringing the main floor, with seating and tables, for patrons who prefer to look down on the rest of the bar from behind the handrails - handrails that would do nothing to stop a determined patron from chucking another patron to the floor. There is a framed pictured on one of the walls of a rather nondescript robot, but aside from that, the bar is fairly sparse in decoration, lacking the kitsch that some bars affect, its purpose clear. There are a number of bartenders, from a burly female in an apron, to protect her from some of the more caustic blends, to a bartender straight out of an old time Western, with a jolly metal moustache. There is an unassuming brown player piano in the corner. Maccadam, the manager himself, is a mysterious figure, rumoured to have been built by Primus himself. Of course, that rumour is probably just nonsense brought on by the exceptionally pure fuel in the drinks. Maccadam's Old Oil House. If you can pay, you can stay. Decepticon, Vehicon, Autobot, Skuxxoid, Raguloxan, Quintesson, hell even Dinobots are allowed if they keep the peace and pay their tabs. It's one of Iacon's bigger secrets, a loophole exploited occasionally by nefarious characters. And so, our tale begins. Opening up, the bar is more or less busy for a race night. Mechs are cheering eachother wildly, staring at vid-screens in captured attention, the small figures race around endlessly.. it's only lap seven of one thousand nine hundred eighty three. It's going to be a long night. Near the center of the room, a reserved table sits. Plates are set out, glasses ready for ener-wine filling, utensils, all manner of meal-time apparatus. A folded note on one of the plates reads: Torque Fifteen cycles ago, the Autobot mechanic recieved a curious and mysterious call from an unidentified individual about a rendezvous in Maccadam's. It was a bit.. odd to recieve an invitation from some unknown caller, Torque rather skeptical about the whole arrangement. True, some mechs had a thing for her, but as to who was asking her.. well, it's a mystery. And it's in Maccadam's, thankfully, so it isn't like they were destined to be alone upon meeting. So, with mind made up, Torque moved her free days around in order to attend. Cue the femme stepping into the familiar oil house looking somewhat perplexed as she's shown to her table. A brow lofts at the card now in hand before optics survey the tableware. Who would do up a table in a bar to look like a fancy restuarant..? Well, only one way to find out, and that's wait. Awkwardly. A voice emanting from beneath the table.. Are you prepared, dear Torque? Do you know what DESTINY awaits you?? Are you afraid of the dark??? If she's not, she should be afraid of the dork.. Backfire clambers out from under the table and takes a seat across from her. "Greetings, you large-fisted mechanic. Do you remember me?" he smiles, attempting to take her hand in his. "It is I.. BACKFIRE, glory of the EMPIRE!!" His display brings a loud chorus of boos and beer cans being thrown at his head. Not because he's a Decepticon, because he's loud and annoying on race night. "And so, if you recall.. I ENGAGED you in one on one combat, being the winner.. you are now on a date of my choosing. To the victor, the spoils!!" he attempts to rub her palm with his thumb. Combat: Backfire sets his defense level to Fearless. Combat: Backfire strikes Torque with his Handie OVER the Table! (Grab) attack! "And I intend to spoil you, my sweet." Backfire finishes. That voice.... Oh Primus, no! Before Torque can even think of fleeing, Backfire, in all his idiotic glory, springs out from under the table and steals her hand in his while reminding her of that stupid bet she agreed on. With optics wide as ever, Torque stares nonplussed at him, completely unsure how to react as a million things rocket through her mind. How did he get her hailing frequency? How did they even allow him within ten miles of Iacon? How long has he been under the table?? "B.. Backfire!" She finally croaks out in shock, optics flicking between him and their joined hand. "Er. I uh.. Thought you'd forget about that bet.." A faint cringe crosses her features while trying to gingerly tug her hand free. "How were you even able to contact me..?" "How was I able to contact you?" Backfire laughs. HOURS AGO.. Jackpot stands nervously in an alleyway, looking around shiftily. A Seeker approaches him, hand held out. "Maaaaaaaan, how did you know Blurr was going to lose that race to Drag Strip?" Jackpot, the gambling addict-bot, grumbles.. putting a folded piece of paper in the Seeker's hand. "Guess you'll never know, will you?" Backfire laughs, tucking away Torque's personal hailing frequency into his subspace. NOW! "You underestimate my prowess, Torque." the Seeker smiles, snapping his fingers. From the back of the bar, a small mini-bot comes out and starts pouring ener-wine into their glasses. "Now then, what sort of CLANDESTINELY information can you give me? Are you ready to be an open spy for the Decepticons??" Backfire questions, leaving his ener-wine alone for now. Torque presses lips thin at the minibot pouring their drinks, eyeing the glowing liquid in her glass. She has no intention of touching it right now, though. Not until Backfire does. Sure, they're in a public area, but you can't be too careful.. "Backfire, look.." She begins slowly, looking uncertainly to nowhere in particular before returning her gaze. "You and I both know that's not gonna happen. Ever. In a million vorns. Also.." Brows knit in concern and mouth twists up. "Aren't you concerned about what the Con's are gonna think if they see you chatting up a Bot?" She sure as the Pit is. Primus help her if she gets questioned, because the last thing she needs is an interrogation. "Ever?" Backfire asks, lips pursed. He eyes the ener-wine nervously, then takes it in his hand. "As you should well know, Torque.. I'm an important mech in that faction. See.." he leans forward to explain. "You see, the EMPIRE is Galvatron, right? Cyclonus is like his right hand mech, there to see to whatever task our Lord deems important. Rebellion in the ranks? Cyclonus. Warworld in need of devastation? Cyclonus. High caliber recruits in need of special training? Cyclonus." "Me? I'm Galvatron's left hand mech. I exist solely to be a SHINING example to all our troops. If only they could aspire to be one percent as efficient as I, Backfire.. then my job is done." Backfire grins, taking the smallest of sips from the glass. A race fan walking by knocks his elbow into his face, force-feeding the liquid into the Seeker's open mouth. Choking, Backfire finally regains his bearings and clears his throat-sync. "Aren't you going to partake of your TASTY beverage??" Left hand mech? Is he serious? ..Apparently so, which would come as no surprise considering his delusions. "I see.." Torque says quietly, unsure how to continue on that note. But the mood lightens slightly and she does her damnedest to keep from bursting out laughing when Backfire chokes on his drink, though she remains polite enough to pass him her napkin to catch any stray spills. "I uh.. I will in a moment. I prefer to drink while eating, you know?" She offers a forced smile, curious to see any effects on the seeker first. "Anyway, the answer is still no. I know you're eager to recruit me and whatnot, but even so I think I'd make a lousy Con." She shrugs with a little smirk. "Too nice, y'know? And besides, I hear you guys aren't as keen on groundpounders like me." It's slightly flattering to be considered, but she really does have to wonder if Backfire wants her recruited because of her skills, or to be able to be around her more. ..Please, dear Primus, let it be the former. "My thanks, Torque." Backfire sputters, some ener-wine spilling from the corners of his mouth as he takes the napkin. Cleaning up the minor spills, the Seeker simply crumples it up and eats it afterward. "We do NOT discriminate, we enjoy people who POUND on the ground just as much as those who POUND in the air." he smirks, jerking a thumb back at himself. "That's me, I'm an AIRPOUNDER. Well, you don't need that explained.. you learned-ed that the last time you faced me in combat." Another snap of his fingers, the same mini-bot brings out a delicious feast of ener-goodies and other assorted junkfood for them to devour. Backfire smiles, loading up his plate. "I regret to inform you that when the Decepticons win this war, I will not be able to save you from the RECLAMATION." Backfire swallows nervously, looking at the plate of food. Torque politely takes some goodies, only filling a portion of the plate. But again, she doesn't touch it just yet. He's really going to have to work in order for her to even consider it. "Yeah well.." Shoulders slump just a little. "You're tougher than you look, I admit.." Poking at a goodie now, the medic pauses and looks up, cautious curiousity on her face. "Reclamation? ..What exactly is that?" Nothing good, she imagines, if it's from the Cons. "After victory is won by the Decepticons, your silly comrades and yourself will be RIGORIOUSLY tested.. quizzed.. watched.. given a chance for redeeming yourselves, but it will not be easy." Backfire answers, picking up an energon goodie and throwing it into his mouth. "I even hear talks of bringing Empurata back." Eyeing her drink and plate, Backfire scowls. "You insepid wretch of a large-handed mechanic.. you haven't eaten a SINGLE thing!" Torque really hopes that's some misinformation. Empurata? ..No, that'd be too awful. "So it'd be a second chance sort of thing. Spared the smelting pools to become a Con." She just about sums it up, though pauses at his sudden outburst. So he wants to play it that way? Fine. The medic fixes Backfire with an unamused raise of her brow, giving off that 'now listen here, mister' vibe. "Well maybe I'm not hungry." Her tone bites softly. "Or /maybe/ it could be a I'm just, oh, a little cautious about what's put in front of me." She snorts softly under her vocals and takes drink in hand. "But I guess if you're going to get offended..." Amber optics stare at the enerwine now, her steeled edge slipping some when reluctantly bringing it to her lips and taking a sip. He seemed fine at least, so maybe it's okay... "No, to become a TRUE and rightful CYBERTRONIAN!" Backfire smiles, resting back in his seat. "To seize our destiny as a race, to unite under one banner, to scour the unexplored galaxies for.. stuff to exploit, to sit on the galactic throne as MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE!!" he shouts, totally not insinuating anything about Castle Greyskull. "Don't you feel it, Torque? That urge to CONQUER? Tales tell of an ancient Prime who held these same beliefs, surely you've felt it before.. to take your station in life above all other organisms??" Torque waits a few moments after drinking, anticipating her insides to melt or for the world to spin. ..Yet nothing comes and she sighs in relief, now more ready to pop a goodie in her mouth. "Not particularly, no." The femme says simply, rolling another goodie between thumb and forefinger idly until it disappears past her lips. "I kinda prefer to be on the same level with them, honestly." Leaning forward with arms crossed on the table, she smiles in that irresistibly friendly way. "I mean sure, not all races in the universe are as tough as us, or live as long, but they've still got their merit. Why is it you Cons wanna conquer everything, anyway? What's wrong with, I dunno, being the same..?" Oh boy, we're getting into politics and such now. This should be interesting. "Same?" Backfire looks upon Torque with disgust. "SAME?? We are Cybertronians, ours is the right to RULE the galaxy.. no one is our match, equal, better, same.. you silly curr." he rages, standing from the table as he throws his chair back. "You mean to tell me that I am the same as this RIFF RAFF??" he howls, pointing at.. well, pretty much everyone else. "Or that this CHAIR is my equal??" he asks, stomping it to the ground. Splinters fly off everywhere. Torque just sort of.. watches Backfire's little tirade, quietly sipping her wine all the while. Optics shift semi-nervously to the surrounding crowds he insults, only coming back at the sound of the his chair breaking. "Well, maybe not the chair.." Even if he is about as smart as it. "But uh.. maybe you wanna keep your voice down?" She cautions quietly, really not in the mood for a bar brawl right now despite her usual affinity for them. "This isn't exactly the place you wanna go sayin' that stuff... Look, I'm sorry, alright? Just sit down, quick.." "I can't.." Backfire says, "I already broke the chair." The bouncer for the establishment, a large monkey-looking mech paws over to Backfire and forces him to sit in a NEW chair. Some apian muttering and threats later, and he's clamoring for his position near the door again. "You won't be able to keep your voice down when you hear of my PLAN to POISION YOU!!" the Seeker cackles, smiling down at the plate of food and pointing to the ener-wine a moment later. Torque is about to speak up, but the bouncer takes care of Backfire's little chair predicament, allowing them to resume their conversation.. which doesn't end well. His triumphant reveal rattles off her processor and has her staring at him. Just.. just staring while trying to keep from panicing. Okay, you've possibly been poisoned. But maybe not, because this Backfire we're talking about.. How to react? "So.. by that logic, you just poisoned yourself, too." Torque helpfully points out to the simpleton and gestures to his own empty glass and the food on the plate. "I'm guessing you've got an antidote?" "Antidote." Backfire smiles, calmly. Crap, why didn't I think of that? An antidote would have been SUPER helpful right now you idiot. No, you're the idiot here.. I came up with the entire plan, you had to come up with ONE TINY INSIGNIFICANT ASPECT!! Returning from his mind's argument, Backfire continues to smile dopeily. "No my dear Torque, we shall die together.. you shant be able to fix the Prime when he is injured, therefore ENSURING Decepticon victory in the coming days of war!!" he exclaims, standing on top of his seat. "Do you feel it, Torque? That poisonous feeling in your gut, the toxins running rampant in your system??" "What I do today, I do for the Decepticon EMPIRE and for eternal GLORY!!" ..Does he think Torque is the only medic amongst the Autobots? She doesn't correct him, instead letting him keep that bit of his fantasy land while she continues speaking. "Not really?" Optics turn down to her midsection, which gets a poke. "Just feel as I usually do. What'd you say you poisoned me with again?" For someone who's possibly dying, Torque sure is nonchalant about it with that smirk and how she leans an elbow on the table. "Y'sure you didn't buy a bad batch? Or is it one of those silent killer sorts? I'd kinda like to know if I have enough time to invite everyone to my eventual funeral, yah know." "Nucleon, of course!" Backfire declares, laughing hysterically. "You can't feel it working its way up your systems? Crawling upwards, infecting everything in its path.. until it reaches your CPU, destroying all the neural pathways until one final sudden surge of overload when the energon lines in your system EXPLODE????" Still standing on the chair, Backfire is thrashing about dramatically.. arms pumping in a win celebration. "Even now, I can feel.. feel.." the Seeker trails, looking down at his body. He doesn't feel a thing. "..nothing. Wait a vorn!" he grumbles, popping open his self-diagnostic and punching in a few buttons. <> it announces aloud. "WHAT, I PAID TOP DOLLAR FOR THAT STUFF!!" Backfire yells. ELSEWHERE.. Swindle is sitting comfortably in his hab suite, counting his money. "What a sucker." Torque watches, slightly amused even, at Backfire proclaiming his weapon of choice before realizing nothing is happening. Antennas twitch at the results of the scan and she sighs, standing and moving beside him. "Backfire, step down a moment." A hand rests upon his shoulder in sympathy when he does. "I appreciate you inviting me here.. even if it was a bit strange. But seeing as the whole.. Romeo and Juliet poison thing didn't work out, I think I'm gonna have to go." "But before I do.." Torque smiles warmly, no malice in her expression, and swiftly throws a heavy punch straight into the side of his face, very likely sending him through several tables. "That's for even thinking of poisoning me in the first place!" Combat: Torque sets her defense level to Fearless. Combat: Torque strikes Backfire with her Powerfist attack! Accilade-6, Fireback is showing his pupil Backfire how to shoot at a target. Tarn, Megatron is standing up and delivering his declaration of deception. Nebulos, Thunderwing reveals his plans for the Pretender armors. All these memories flash in Backfire's head, which is loosely connected to his neck, which is wrenched sideways but still hanging onto his body, which is flying sideways through several tables and race fans.. finally coming to a rest outside the wall of Maccadams. Rubble is strewn about, wires trail the exit 'wound' of the establishment.. frayed and spitting out sparks haphazardly. Smoke trails up from his body, a twisted monument to Torque's strength.. or anger. Or both. Torque stands there, looking bewildered at the hole in the wall. "Uhhh.. I'll pay for that." She quips quickly to the bartender before sprinting out the hole to grab Backfire's prone form and shake him. "Damnit, you always bring trouble with you.." She mutters annoyedly at the buzz over the comm. "Backfire, get up! You gotta get outta here before the others get here!" Is she trying to save him? Again? Torque really does wonder why in he Pit she does this to herself. Is it because he's stupid? Does she feel pity? ..Oh no, now there's a lockdown? In the words of Shia, no no no no! "Your compassion will be.." Backfire croaks out, lifting his fusion cannon up to her head. His frame is a twisted wreck, the punch and resulting slam through the wall having taken its toll on his body. In the back of the bar, Bluebeetlebot and Boostergoldacon are giggling "One punch." "..your downfall!" the Seeker threatens, the side-lights of the fusion cannon warms up with an audible humm. Purple energy light emants from the weapon, bathing the immediate vicinity. The glow and noise of the weapon grows louder and brighter, until it is released in one swift chorus of Fusion cannon goodness. Combat: Backfire strikes Torque with his Poor Mech's Fusion Cannon attack! Torque's antennas flick upright in surprise and optics fly wide when staring down the length of the barrel. ...Frag. Torque isn't super fast, but she gets enough time to make sure the cannon strikes her in the chest instead of searing off her face. The force of it knocks her back into more patrons and tables where she lays still for several moments, the hole in the side of her chest glowing bright red and smoking. "Ngh.." Torque eventually manages, weakly clawing to sit up, her expression a myriad of pain. "Damnit.. erf.. Now the city's on lockdown!" She shouts at him, frowning hard and holding her now gushing wound. "You won't be able to get out!" Combat: Torque takes extra time to steady herself. [Pass] There's the distinctive sound of a helicopter overhead as into view comes the recognisable form of a certain daredevil Wrecker. And this time he is pretty sure he doesn't need to play nice, or deal with some annoyance with a forcefield generator and an opinion on everything. What he does need to deal with is the distance between him and the Decepticon getting violent with another Autobot, thankfully he finds the best way to deal with that is to stop resisting gravity, it's inevitable anyway, "Hey, jerk features, if you want to tango, I got a gun or two that I can happily shove in your face!" With that the helicopter transforms into Sandstorm, dropping to land between Torque and Backfire, his gun already in hand and pointing at the Decepticon, "Now be a good Decepticon and please, die." And then Backfire gets blasted by sand. Unfolding as it (possibly) comes in to land, the Super Puma shifts into Sandstorms robot mode, weapon at the ready (cause lets be honest, hes likely walking... erm charging into danger)! Combat: Sandstorm sets his defense level to Fearless. Combat: Sandstorm strikes Backfire with his Sandblaster Gun attack! [Pulled -3] Gaining his bearings, Backfire claws his way back up to his feet. A smile appears on his face, the smoking fusion cannon on his arm the reason. Not only did it teach that large-handed mechanic a lesson, but it didn't BACKFIRE this time. What little armor is left on his frame, Sandstorm's gun shreds away in a blasting of sand. "Really?" Backfire surmises, looking at the Wrecker. "What kind of person uses SAND? You are supposed to build castles with it, not ATTACK PEOPLE WITH IT!!" he mini-rages, radioing his backup. A couple of Decepticon shuttles hyper-jump into aerial view over the city. Combat: Backfire sets his defense level to Protected. Combat: Backfire takes extra time to steady himself. [Pass] Torque is having a little bit a freakout right now. True, Sandstorm, a Wrecker, has come to her aid, but she can't admire him just yet. Not when there's more Decepticons pouring this. This is her fault.. Primus, this is all her fault! She shouldn't have come, but then.. how the heck could she have known! "You jerk!" The femme suddenly roars from the background. "First you invite me here, try to POISON me, and now you're bringing reinforcements!" Like a linebacker she streaks past Sandstorm, aiming to barrel full force into the Decepticon with her shoulder. "Make up your mind if you wanna kill me or not and stop getting me into trouble!" Combat: Torque strikes Backfire with her Body Slam attack! The Wrecker would say something about hearing Torque was invited here by a Decepticon, but to be fair he always takes Decepticons up on their invites, mostly as it tends to be fun and dangerous (though the use of dangerous may be redundant when Sandstorm mentions fun). And then Torque barrels past him at the Decepticon, and seems to be more than capable of inflicting damage to the dumb Con. Then there's the two Decepticon shuttles, which just cannot be a good sign... for the shuttles, as the Wrecker smiles (the sort of smile that led to an Olympic referee going boom), "Oh look, you brought some friends to die with you. Nothing like a good party atmosphere." And while Torque deals with Backfire, Sandstorm pulls out some of his own toys, starting to work on... well something if you really need to ask what then you have never met Sandstorm). Combat: Sandstorm takes extra time to steady himself. [Pass] The second punch, while not as devastating on the outside as the first, knocks Backfire off of his feet and causes several internal system errors and ruptures. "You're.. pathetic. Go on, tell your comrade how you were just about to AID me in my escape?" Backfire smiles, rubbing the side of his head. "Go on, admit to him how you fancied the idea of switching sides.. how else do you explain your continued presence here after my arrival? Why didn't you notify them the minute I showed up?? TELL HIM!!" Backfire growls, fists held at his side. "Torque is a Decepticon sympathizer, on the cusp of turning into a Decepticon spy." the Seeker states loudly, tossing down a tape recording of their conversation at Sandstorm's feet. "They did not come here to die, they came here to extract myself AND my accomplice." Backfire corrects Sandstorm, looking smug. Combat: Backfire takes extra time to steady himself. [Pass] Torque picks herself back up after smashing into Backfire, finding a handhold on his armor and lifting him, ready to administer another full powered blow. But.. she stops, fist hanging in the air and face a mask of utter shock at his accusations. "That's.." She mutters meekly until she regains her voice, gritting teeth and shouting. "That's not true! I don't sympathize with the Cons, I just.. I just didn't have a reason to call anyone!" She thught she could handle this on her own, that he'd end up leaving peacefully. Seems not. Growling now, Torque slings him aside and snaps at him, enraged. "I'm not going anywhere with you, is that clear?? Not in a million vorns, like I said! Now just.. just get out of here!" She didn't want to fight him or the shuttles he brought. There wasn't a need for it, damnit. Hopefully he'll see reason, because Torque isn't eager for there to be bloodshed over something so stupid. Combat: Torque takes extra time to steady herself. [Pass] Since the shuttles are indeed, for the moment, not taking any offensive action, Sandstorm actually puts away his bomb making equipment for now. And then steps on the recording, "Oooopsies, did I just ruin your pathetic attempt at framing an Autobot for something? Ask me if I care, please, ask me." Though Sandstorm doesn't really seem in the mood to answer questions, as instead of waiting for Backfire to say anything, he instead proceeds to close the distance between himself and the Decepticon very quickly... and then try and kick the Decepticon in the face. Cause there's been at least two attacks and not one wrestling reference. Combat: Sandstorm strikes Backfire with his Sweet Chin Music! attack! Suddenly, a hole is ripped through the floor of the area. A large Cybertronian drill-tank tears through and transforms, catching Backfire as he's kicked. Drawing a pistol, trained on Sandstorm and Torque.. the Decepticon opens his comms. "Roger, extraction commenced, package one of two in possession." Borehole radios, looking at Torque oddly. "Negative skyfire, package two of two is a wash.. returning to base." Tossing Backfire down the tunnel leading here, Borehole primes a charge and drops it on the ground. "Pleasure doin' business with ya Sandstorm, toodles!" he smiles, transforming and disappearing down the hole behind Backfire. Above the city, the shuttles used in the distraction hyper-jump out of Iacon airspace. Combat: Backfire begins retreating, outrunning all pursuit. Before Sandstorm can get to the present left by the Decepticons, which he was totally going to chuck the bomb down the hole after the Decepticons, Expendablebot rushes past everyone and jumps on top of the bomb, "I got this one!" Torque takes a step back to keep from being drilled through by the Con that breaks the surface from underfoot. Before she can react he scoops up Backfire, chatters on the radio, and flees with him after dropping a bomb at their feet. "Frag! Everyone, get down!" She reels and yells to those still inside the bar, instantly diving behind what remains of the wall with the hole in it while some brave Bot runs the other way to sacrifice himself. No, Expendablebot!
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