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| - Transformers 2K5 - Prowl - vendredi, août 29, 2014, 10:26 Maccadam's Old Oil House, Translucentica Heights(#10420Rnt) - 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. Contents: Chromia Punch Piano Bartenders Chromia can't help coming here. Sometimes it's for work, like when she foolishly tried to recruit a Con to help her with something. Sometimes it's for pleasure, because they serve really good drinks here. Sometimes it's neither of those things and more the desire to have a moment away from all of that. She heads straight for the bar upon entering without even stopping to see who might be in here. She indiciates for the bartender to pour her two drinks - the way she likes to get started. The first one is gone as soon as it is served and the second is then taken as finally she turns to take stalk of the joint today. Prowl decides to make a quick stop for a drink after putting in an allnighter andlooking forward to another rough night ahead of him. The doorman gives him small nod and smile knowing Prowl is not the troublemaking kind but for good measures someone bolted the tables last week after an 'anonymous tip'. He makes his way towards the bar right next to Chromia and orders a Spitzer light. "Hey there Chromia." Walking in to the bar Punch is very careful where he's stepping. Those attuned to thermodynamics may note he's above normal temperature by a little. Reaching the bar He politely asks for a few coolants and, after quickly consuming them, then orders a 'Name Redacted'. A long night. Well worth it. Who knows what the day may bring. Turning to see the other two Punch waves. Just in case he may be interrupting anything. He's sure if it's an open gathering someone'll call him over. Chromia suddenly sits up a little straighter. "Sir," she answers quickly. She doesn't salute. Should she have saluted? He's not her direct commanding officer, still... "Prowl," she adds with a smile. She had been turned to watch the bar but with Prowl beside her, well, she has turned back around to speak more directly to him ... and thus has missed Punch's entrance. She considers the things that she should say against the things she wishes to ask, and what comes out is somewhere more in the middle. "You look rundown." She winces internally. Chromia has always been an honest, direct bot, even when she doesn't mean to be. "You should see about getting yourself an assistant." Prowl nods a bit at the rundown comment "Yes this whole Tarn thing is taking up alot of time and effort. There is another op going down tonight with Defcon and Roadbuster. I trust them of course but I will likely be on backup or supervising." He notices Punch and waves him over "An assistant? Maybe not a bad idea." Then he decides to see if he can get Chromia off her game. Takes a sip from his spitzer "That recommendation almost sounded like an application." Taking his cue Punch walks over, drink in hand, and says, "Chromia, Prowl, good to see you both how are you both on this fine-" Punch's 'hello' is interrupted by a brief slip which, although corrected, certainly put him off his stride. "Whoops, sorry. Traction's a little on the low side today. Once my temp levels are within range I'll be able to get my foot actuators resurfaced. Get a grip, as it were, but, yes, how are you both?" Punch asks sitting and taking a sip of his drink. It's not like Chromia is busy with other assignments at the moment, not with Elita One being in the position she's in. So far no one else has given hr anything, but then that should be Arcee these days? Chromia considers, her lips pursed as she visually struggles with it. What's that addage, about keeping the ones you worry about close? "I'll have to get back to you on that," she thinks, though... you said Tarn. This could be a way to learn a great deal more than she is now. "What's happening in Tarn?" Before her 'return' that is where Chromia had been, looking for... something that remains unfound. "Something tells me that if they need backup or not, you'd be there. Supervising unseen, from afar." She sips her drink. "On this operation or any. Or not even on operations," she lets out, again, something she maybe should have filtered out. She then turns to see, "Punch." She looks to Prowl. She looks to Punch. "I shouldn't worry, right?" Prowl looks Punch over "Speaking of looking rundown. Are you sure you are allright?" Prowl is starting to think he might have to send Punch on vacation for a few days. About the the Tarn question "Tarn is a boiling pot of social tensions right now and things need defusing and possibly turn things around." While looking calm he is making a bunch of mental notes. Smiling brightly inspiration strikes. First speaking to Prowl Punch says, "Remember how I was discussing carefully selecting personel? Tarn could do no better than having a few like Chromia around. It may be an idea putting a recommendation to Arcee." Punch takes another sip of his drink Punch continues "A . . . particularly vigourous workout of my specialised systems resulted in me overheating a little. It caused the microscopic layer of coating on my feet that lets them be 'grippy' to melt off. Mot to mention the tread's going to have to be redone. Unfortunately to get that to happen medical say it'll be a while before I've cooled down enough and, to be fair, it's a low priority in any case. So I'll just be a little tractionless for a few hours yet." Turning his attentions to Chromia Punch smiles brighter and says, "It's a state of flux Tarn. Just as Prowl says. However, no matter which way the situation twists and turns . . . we can handle it. Right now, relatively speaking, it's peaceful by it's own standards and despite the Decepticons efforts. So, no, nothing to worry about there." Chromia meant more for herself. Punch is always turning up and now, Prowl? She looks more than a little skeptical as she ponders if she should worry about her own future here. "How deep will the operations go on Tarn?" Again she looks from one of you to the other, since you both have answers and she has none. "Is there a possibility to volunteer for this operation, or perhaps another one?" She doesn't elaborate more, rather, looks to see what her options are first. Punch, it seems, is eager to put in a good word for her, so no need for Chromia to not capitalize on that. "Will there be strikes there or efforts to recapture resources from the Cons?" either could prove to be troublesome. Because Shockwave. Prowl looks around at where they are "I cannot give you all the details here but some operations will go pretty deep. No strikes however. Tarn is under our control but the population is hostile. It is a public relations war on the surface and a hunt for underground Decepticon operations meant to destabilize the region further." He nods at Chromia "You can volunteer and I agree with Punch here. You have the temperement fr the job. We need Autobots that are calm, not easily provoked and can handle crises on the fly." Chromia had been running guerrilla style operations for four million years while Prowl was 'asleep' on Earth but... she reigns it in and doesn't 'remind' him of that fact. She has a lot of experience, since the Great War and even from and before that. "Thanks," she says evenly for the compliment about her ability to control herself in tough situations. Chromia reminds herself that this is Prowl, who has no doubt logically thought of that and also enjoys his position to therefore outrank others. "I could certainly aid in the underground searches," she volunteers. She tries not to sound too eager since, well, that would also align with her more personal desires. "That is... if you could spare me from your front desk," she has to grin as she plays along. Like that would ever happen. Prowl can't help but crack half a smile at how Chromia turned that around. "I will validate with Arcee seeing as how she is your CO but your experience will be a great asset in routing out the Decepticon underground. So far we know that Buzzsaw, Blast Off and Discord are involved. Maybe other Decepticons will join but seeing as how it is not a 'combat operation' many stay away until the Decepticons are ready for more overt operations." He takes another sip of his spitzer light. Punch takes another sip of his drink. This is possibly turning into a tactical discussion on matters he doesn't require to interviene in. Considering everything involved, for the moment, he remains silent and lets the conversation continue. "Overt means," she puts her drink down to make an explosion gesture. She gets it. Keep it small, keep it non-contact and certainly don't draw any attention. "I should hope that we have someone mapping Tarn as much as possible while we can?" Knowledge is power of course, but also knowing what is out there will help to know what to lay claim to. Resources are tight but that's no excuse to be reckless, rather it's more a need to be cautious. "I am sure that Arcee would be glad for the assistance," Chromia then states, "In finding things for me to do. It'd be one less thing for her to worry about as I'm sure she has a great deal to contend with right now. Nothing she can't handle, brilliantly." But still, a lot, more than she should no doubt. Elita... Chromia looks up as she had wandered her gaze down to her drink, what with her thoughts there and all. "Don't worry, sir," she grins a little. She slips a hand down to her hip for emphasis, "Despite my size, I assure you I can manage to not be seen. Until I need to be." Again, millions of years of training. "It will be good to get back to the field," she does share. She hates not being out there, to be somewhat directionless. A brow goes up as she looks at Prowl, "If I accept, would you be supervising me too? Directly or from afar?" Prowl finishes his drink "Yes overt means that. So far the Decepticons want to look like liberators not conquerors. They will avoid pulling out the guns at first.." He briefly checks his datapad to see if any incoming message from his agents has come in. "We do have someone on the inside working for us so we are getting periodic report and we will adjust accordingly." Prowl briefly looks at Chromia head to toe "I do not doubt your skills. You managed to evade the cyclop for a long time." Finally he nods twice "Indeed. If you accept I will be supervising...from afar. My early presence in Tarn might not be welcomed. The citizens have a problem with the local police so having an Autobot police officer on the scene might not be the best thing Tarn needs right now." Chromia didn't do anything fancy like go to Earth and hang out with Terrans, did she? She reigns it in again. 'Managed to evade' makes it sound like it was... lucky. There wasn't a spot of luck about it! She's ready to get in his face and wag a finger. She can't hold it all back as, unlike some, she doesn't hide her emotions. So she glares. If Chromia didn't need an assignment, some work, then she might well do more than give a smoldering look. "From afar would be best," she says coldly and then promptly downs her drink, in one go. "Yeah, you being an officer is the only reason," she fumes. Okay, so it's less of a reigning and more of a half-assed attempt at being nice. "Maybe it's because you think they're all suspects?" She might get fired from a job she doesn't even have before she could get it! Punch is finishing his drink and ordering another. He's also trying maintain his facial expression as, should it change in any way, it may betray some of his current thoughts. He's courageous. Not suicidal. Still, nice to see a little more happiness in the world today. As his drink arrives he takes a sip of it and asks "Can I get you two another?" motioning to the bar and indicating he'll happily stand another round. "Which reminds me . . . Prowl? Chromia? Either of you mind if I smoke at all?" Small talk. The last refuge of those who are trying to keep a straight face. Prowl notices a slight change in Chromia but totally misses the trigger. He raises an eyebrow at the suspect comment "I think you have me confused with Ultra Magnus. Like I always say 'Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence'." He motions no at Punch "Go ahead." He checks his chrono "Time is up. I need to get back on the job. Excuse me both of you." He pays gets up to leave. Sorry, Punch, you'll have to wait a moment. Right now Chromia is thinking about all of the other things that she believes what Prowl would say. To her, he sure is a bot who thinks his paint don't stink. "Pretty sure I have you pegged. *Sir*," she salutes, since he's leaving already. By Primas, she really needs something to do to be putting up with... she tries to let it go as she looks back to her glass - empty - and nods to Punch. "Another two. I'll take his," she thumbs back to the fleeing Prowl. Nodding to Prowl and readying to cover his tactical retreat Punch says, "Take it easy Prowl." Nodding to the bar Punch says, "Double time." Punch, despite his sense of self-preservation says, "Chromia? I can't run. I'll fall over." Taking out a cig and lighting it he asks, "So . . . exactly when should I try and duck?" Okay. The attepts at humor make him a target. It's kind of the point. Punch can take it and, if a little venting helps Chromia out, or if he gets a luagh and it helps Chromia . . . no matter how little then he's on the right track. Chromia looks a little lost to Punch as she turns to him. Wha'? Sorry, she was lost in thoughts of what she should of said to Prowl to really register what he's getting at there. "Duck?" She's not going to hit you! "Oh, that? Him?" Chromia shakes her head as she accepts her two drinks. She pauses here, thinking about what she's about to say. "I was wrong there. Maybe? I guess. Not really." She frowns a little. "Maybe he didn't mean what he said, or maybe he did," she shrugs. "I should be better than letting that get to me. I could really use this asignment," she fumes to admit it. "I hope I didn't blow it." ***** *** * * * * * * *** *** **** * * *** * * * * *** * * *** *** ** * * ** * ** * *** *** *** * * *** *** * * * * *** **** * * *** * * * * *
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