Arcee
Place: Hole In The Wall Bar, Iacon.
Hole-in-the-wall[]
The Hole-In-The-Wall is a very small bar on the outskirts of Iacon that isn't particularly well known, but is extremely popular with the Wreckers and other rough-types for their strong drinks and for Greasetrap, an old no-nonsense type bartender. At any time during the night unless there is a full-on Decepticon attack there are at least a few scarred veterans holding down the fort with a drink in their hand and a war story cued up on their vocalizer.
It's a few cycles following the near-disastrous trip into Helex, and Arcee's none too happy about the results of that mission. She's currently in a place where she always feels at home and at-ease despite the rough surroundings -- her favorite bar. Typically she'll come here with Springer, but she's still too angry to discuss things with him yet, so she's decided to call Punch down and let him have a look at one of the lesser-known social spots in Iacon. She picks a table away from the bar area, and watches the street to see if Punch can find the place.
In the privacy of his own thoughts Punch has had time to reflect upon he specifics of that mission. Having looked at it every which way he drew what, to him, was the logical conclusion. As a result he's been beating himself up in more ways than one. Having only left the training rooms as he got a request from Arcee Punch scans around trying to spot exactly where he's going.
While halted he grabs at his right arm with his left and reaches for the cigs inside his arm compartment. As he finds them and lights one his right loosely flops by his side as the left gets cig detail. He's nearby... real nearby to where he's supposed to be but the doublespy's damned if he can find the rest of the way.
"<< Psst. You're close. Down a few doors, >>" Arcee tightbeams to Punch as she sees him arrive on the block. "<< Look for the door that looks like it's been ripped off its track, and then put back on the wrong way. >>"
Punch chuckles as he gets the tightbeam and replies "<< Much appreciated. On my way. >>" Punch looks at the doors in turn but cranes his head heavily to do so. Eventually finding the suspect in question he... stands. Giving his right arm a brief suspicious look he opens the door with his left and steps in. After the doublespy takes a double-look around the bar he spots Arcee and joins her at the table. "Thanks for the invite. Hope I haven't kept you waiting." Punch says as he sits down.
"No, not at all. Want a drink? The drinks are on the strong side here, but maybe it's something we need," Arcee points out. "I wanted to thank you for coming along on the Helex mission."
"That'd be great... thanks." Punch says before taking a draw on his cig. Carefully lifting his right arm on to the table and fishing out a deck of cigs Punch asks, "Would you like one?" Placing the fresh pack on the table he adds, "Just in case." On the mention of Helex Punch's smile breaks and he says with a slight shake of his head, "I'm so sorry about that. It was entirely my fault. I should've set the charge in time and especially should have accounted for the damp conditions..." The rest of his sentence is as lost as his train of thought.
Arcee orders two 'drinks' -- apparently, there's no fancy names for them in this place -- and old Greasetrap gets to work fixing them without much fanfare. "Sure, I'll have a smoke, thank you," Arcee tells Punch. "Now look, there's no need for apologies, you did everything right. Who led the mission? Who made all the decisions? Who screwed it up?" She taps her own chestplate with her pointer finger. "So as far as I'm concerned, you did the best you could with what you had available to you. I'm proud of everyone who went. Heck, I'm even proud of that little neutral who got us out of there."
Punch gives Arcee a complicated look. Mainly because he's trying to see the situation from a different viewpoint. After a moments puzzlement Punch tries the revised assessment on for size. "I... can see how maybe I'm being a little unfair on myself. I'd have to say that you're doing the same though. You met the objectives. No one was lost and, aside from the difficulties that the enemy caused during the extraction... the operation went otherwise smoothly." Punch slides his right arm off the table using his left and takes another draw from his cig. He vents out shapelessly.
Once Greasetrap brings the drinks over, Arcee slides Punch's drink over to him, then takes tiny sips of her own in-between having leisurely puffs of the enercig. She's quiet, nodding in agreement. "But it still sucked. Every time we go there, it gets worse. You know, I am *this close* --" She demonstrates a tiny space between her finger and thumb "-- This close to having Springer gather up his crazy friends, head down in there and just destroy the place. But you know what's stopping me from doing that? ...The metrotitan."
Punch listens... then says, "That reanimated behemoth should give anyone pause. Not for its formidable size and power... but, you noticed, it was missing its head. More reanimated than actively functional. Same for the others I seen in there. In a state of disrepair and decay that indicates... some kind of influence." Punch takes a deep draw from his drink and cig in turn.
After a blink from the drink hitting back Punch waves with his good arm, "A contaminant, or procedure, or something that's caused that change in them. Raising it to the ground would force even a poorly trained opposition to try the same on the metrotitan itself.
If that were to be successful and the titan were to go on the rampage... the loss would be unbearable. Monsters crave to act that way. I should know." Punch draws ans vents a few times as if the exhale of smoke will carry the rest away with it.
"You're onto it...now you see, what's animating those cult members and everything else down there is allegedly 'dark magic' from the cult leader, Dal Matia. She *does* wield a staff with some unique power properties; it has a proven effect on processing functions, so it's a real thing, but magic? ...I doubt it," Arcee notes. "They have plenty of that tainted energon to draw from, which is probably why we end up underestimating them time and time again." She pauses, then shakes her head. "And of course, we don't want the titan to rampage, head or no head. That would be really bad."
"Shame we don't have a nose to sniff out where that store is..." Punch idly muses as he takes another draw from his cig. As he does so he notices a small twitch from one of his right fingers. A little embarrased Punch says, "Err... sorry about this. I just need to..." Punch grabs his right shoulder with his other arm, pulls upward and pushes inward.
There's a sickening snap. Punch closes his optics for a moment and bites down on vocalising the pain. Blindly he reaches for his drink with his right arm, now back in the land of moving parts, and takes a sizable drink from his glass. Slamming the near empty vessel down and opening his optics Punch continues "... Sorry about that. Yes. If we knew where that store was... we could tamper with it further. Make it inert. useless for powering their systems." Punch takes a deep draw from his cig and vents out a smokey shape. like glass if it was photographed mid shatter.
Arcee watches Punch with some concern. "...Want another round?" she asks. She doesn't really know Punch very well, where he's from or what his problems are...but she knows pain when she sees it. "The energon they use, the cult I mean...it seems to be all over the place down there, flooding rooms and hallways and whatnot. I'm not even sure we could have a use for it, it's obviously contaminated -- you saw what it did to Imager. I don't even know how those cultists use it without becoming sick or glitched themselves."
Punch manages a weak smile as he says, "Yes, please, that would be great." He looks at Arcee's concerned expression, then his arm, then he nods as realisation dawns, "Training room. Minor mishap. It's barely a scratch. Tiny dislocation. Not worth mention." Just like all the safeties Punch disabled for the program that he really shouldn't have.
"Point is they rely on that stuff instead of regular energon. Just like humans are fueled differently to Cybertronians. Poison the supply they rely upon and, very quickly, they'll drop. It probably is making them sick, really sick, but in a way that keeps them going for a little longer. Like organics can be cured of certian conditions by being infected by another as the immune system finally recognises the unwelcome invaders. Take their supply away and the maladies they've picked up would run unchecked through their systems though." Punch shrugs, that's the theory anyway.
Arcee nods and waves to get Greasetrap's attention. The 'tender nods, and gets to work on another cleverly-named 'drink'. It's a libation that packs a serious wallop, but it's probably the type that the clientele of this place prefer above all others.
"You know...you have a very interesting theory there. I'm just wondering if we'll get another chance to test it. Now it's going to be practically impossible to infiltrate that place without a miracle on out side," Arcee admits, sounding mildly discouraged. "There has to be a way without getting utterly mobbed each time we attempt it, that's all I'm saying."
"There may be ways. There be other avenues of attack. As we now have one of theirs we can find out. Plus if specifically Unicronians, I mean, Decepticons, can move freely... there may be something there. Made the right counter-point to the right person." Punch finishes his first drink and, after a stifled cough says, "That's two I owe you now." he nods back towards the bar. "Although there's stuff with less kick that comes from stills. Full credit to here for that."
Arcee grins broadly, and chuckles. "Hey, I'm kind of impressed you're having a second one. Wreckers can drink this stuff all day. I can tolerate...maybe 2, before I start getting silly. That's why I'm taking my sweet time with the first one."
Greasetrap brings the second 'drink' over, and sets it in front of Punch, then returns to the bar.
"I guess we'll just have to see what the captive is going to give up, if anything. Hmm, did I mention the Sweep? I think I told you about the Sweep...he might be able to help us, too. Maybe," Arcee notes. "In the meantime, I think I'm going to refocus my energies on securing Iacon from getting invaded by Seacons."
Punch leans forward conspiratorially, "Like most of my work... it is a well portrayed performance. Like you really don't want to see me trying to fly home right now." Punch sits back and cheerfully lifts the glass, "Your health and happiness." After a measured sip Punch says, "He's a believer. Two I mean. As an asset he'd be really difficult to predict or control. You'd need a... a fellow prisoner play, maybe, to get him to do as you'd want. Still a high risk." Punch then looks quizzically at Arcee and says, "Seacons? I thought they'd been run out of Iacon. Especially since Omega Supreme had been redeployed." Punch draws on his cig and vents a few geometric shapes out. He's curious.
Arcee smiles warmly, and clinks a glass with Punch for a toast. "Well thank you, and yours as well," she says. "Oh no, I don't mean Sweep Two...I meant Sunder. Did I tell you about him?" She smirks at the news that Omega is now charged with keeping the Seacons out of Iacon. "Well that *should* be a good deterrent for them, but you know, they're pretty stupid."
Punch draws deeply from his cig and lightly from his drink. still pausing in thought for a moment Punch eventually shakes his head, "No. Sunder? I don't think you did. What's his deal?" Then Punch chuckles happily, "Well... if they really want to scrap with a bot of that spec... rather them than me."
"Sunder is one of Scourge's trackers," Arcee explains, still working on her original drink very slowly. She's also still smoking her enercig, taking her time with the entire process. "He's attacked me once, under Scourge's direct order. But since that time, he...um, he won't attack me. I've confronted him in fights, and he just refuses to fight me, at all. He's kind of strange. I'm thinking that...it's /possible/ we could obtain his help in infiltrating that cult base. Because the cult would see him as a deity or at least semi-divine, being a Unicronian cult...? So I would need to see if he'd be cooperative. I try not to talk too much about Sunder, because I don't want anything getting back to Optimus or Elita, making them think I'm able to 'control' him. I don't. Scourge does, he answers to Scourge. But when Scourge isn't around, he'd rather talk to me than fight."
"... It could be possible. I mean. It just..." Punch mutters as he's already thinking. Making plays, running ideas, planning out the potential details. He shakes his head after taking another drink after drawing from his cig. It's strong all right. "For a start. I wouldn't worry about command finding out about things. Official intelligence channels can become very unreliable under the right circumstances." Punch says beaming brightly,
"Do you think you could get him to act, have a walk round the facility and return with the layout? As it's an ask and people can always tell if they're being played." Punch draws and vents from his cig before continuing, "I mean... this... whatever he has about you needs to be strong enough to make him do as well as say."
"Well..." Arcee glances around, as if embarassed, then she admits, "I think he wants me to be his mate, so there's the motive for cooperation. I've already told him no, but he seems to think I'll change my mind someday." She shrugs. "But at least without Scourge around, he's willing to have that discussion instead of dropping right into fight mode, so that's something. There's always the chance that Scourge will show up and order Sunder to attack, and there's also the possibility he'll decline to help. So this isn't a fail-proof plan, but if I could convince him, it would have tremendous possibilities for gaining control of that entire group."
Punch listens carefully, taking an objective read on the situation, before speaking. "Scourge... could be distracted. If he's too busy talking to someone else far away while you're talking to Sunder then, at least, you stand the best chance of seeing how willing he'd be to help." Punch then frowns. "If he's thinking in a way that's beyond the usual Unicronian thinking... it's both possible and dangerous." Punch diplomatically doesn't detail but does flourish his cig to half illustrate the point, "You know what I mean."
"Well, the Sweeps do actually have names and...and sparks all their own," Arcee notes. "They're not a combined consciousness, as far as I know. I mean they each have names and can think for themselves. But ultimately they're all extremely loyal to Scourge, and they'll do exactly what he says. I don't think Sunder would ever do anything outside of his nature. I think he might be willing to assist if he knew that the cult could actually be poisoning and polluting the planet's core with that contaminated energon, though. ...Maybe."
Punch nods, "It's worth a try." taking a deeper draw for his drink, pausing, then a deep draw from his cig, Punch says, "Just... please... be careful. If you'd want some kind of operational support so you're covered while talking... I could work something." He's concerned, as he always is, when someone not disposable (i.e. someone not him) could be taking some kind of operational risk. However. The plan makes sense. Doesn't mean he has to like it.
Arcee smiles at Punch's very genuine concern. "Well, thank you. You can come along if you'd like, I'd love to have you in the area, which will presumably be Helex...but of course, keep in mind that Sweeps don't miss much, and if Sunder thinks I'm there with someone else, he might go into attack mode. So just keep very low."
"I'm a master of hiding in plain sight. Few people ever want to go near my alter ego. Much less talk to him. So if he's discovered other people won't want to disturb him. Sweep or otherwise." Punch looks a little relieved that he can provide tactical support. Even moreso when Arcee smiles. "I'm serious though. First sign of trouble, slightest feeling something's wrong... just get out of there. We can find another way. I don't want anything to happen to you." Punch is doubly certain. It's so much easier when the loaded weapons are pointed at him.
"Alright. Again, I appreciate your willingness to jump into something this potentially dangerous. I like your spark. Very courageous," Arcee notes, having no idea that Punch considers himself disposable. She just thinks he's brave. "As for tonight? ...Well, this little outing has put me in a much better mood to face down the challenges. Might take me a while to get through this drink. Just letting you know ahead of time."
Okay. There are many things Punch is trained like no other in handling. Positive criticsm... never came up. He manages to halt turning round to see who Arcee was talking about. Intel comes in confirming how bad that action'd be. After a draw on his cig and a small stifled cough, Punch says, "I... I'm in no rush. Be more than happy to keep you comapny until then, any number after that and, if you'd so require, even make sure you got back safely." Punch chuckles, "Just... flying is really not an option I'm afraid. Had too much for that kind of thing already."
"Yes, I could see why flying after a couple of these 'drinks' would constitute a major hazard." Arcee laughs, then asks, "I wonder how often the Seekers get really seriously overenergized, then try to fly around? I'll bet that gets messy..."
Punch laughs happily, "I'd really like to see what happens when Skywarp tries to teleport. Or a fleet of seekers become a fleet of sneakers trying not to be heard as they get back to quarters whist glitched out their minds!" He takes a quick draw from his cig and vents out "Maybe someone'll send them a complimentary case of high grade one day. Might end up being caught on camera."
Arcee laughs some more, delighted at that mental image. "No wonder Starscream's in such a bad mood all the time, just multiply that by the number of times in a breem he has to sort all of that out," she chuckles.
The conversation continues on in this way for quite some time. Now that the business has been sorted out, the time has come to enjoy some playful banter. It's a break that's overdue for both of them.