| abstract | - October 4, 2011 (Cubicron) --- Nova Black swoops down over Cubicron, speeding toward the place she's looking for. If anyone here isn't too wary of her to stay out of her way, they'd notice her behavior is quite different from her usual. Generally, she's fairly easy-going, at least for a Decepticon. Now, her engines roar with rage, and anyone who might have cautiously stuck around to see what the curiously approachable Decepticon is up to today hurries hastily out of the way. She doesn't bother to land, but instead transforms running, her lasers glowing baleful purple as she rushes toward the small, unremarkable building baring the medic's sigil. Of course, the one she really wants isn't here right now. Most likely, no one is. Not now that the breakout from Polyhex happened. It wouldn't be safe here, after all. But even if there's no one to kill in here, she can at least send a message. "I knew you didn't belong with us," she snarls. "From the beginning. But I never thought you'd betray us." With that, she opens fire, bright bolts of lavender blasting the door open. She races inside, alternately shooting at the supplies in the rooms and grabbing the breakable ones off of shelves and throwing them down. Quickrazor walks around the landscape, when the sound of laser fire pierces through his audial units with an unmistakable whine of power. He looks for its source, stepping closer to a wall, exposing as little of his back as possible. There could hardly be such a lightshow and disruption of the 'peace' (ahem) in Cubicron that would not draw out Hookshot's attention. He had been in an alleyway, not far from the shuttered building, talking with a femme. With little hesitation he withdraws from her and cautiously advances to the sight of Nova Black firing at a building with reckless abandon. Tilting his head, wearing a crown-shaped helmet, he wanders over, green optics dim. He stands a safe distance away, watching for any debris or shrapnel that may make it as far as his location. His optics catch Quickrazor, and he lifts an optic ridge, contemplating whether to approach a fellow Decepticon, or just act like an interested bystander. A VERY important thing to note is that nowhere on Hookshot's gold and beige chassis does he bare a Decepticon sigil. Quickrazor notes that the Seeker seems to be firing upon a /medical/ facility, of all places, with rage evident in the violent reaction. Quickrazor's faceplates twist into a frown- one should /not/ destroy a sanctuary of healing, not without good cause, anyway. He rushes to the building, intent upon the assailant. His silvered chassis catches tge light, almost refracting it, as he calls out in a booming tenor voice, "Seeker-kin. What in /pit/ do you think you're doing?" By now, most of the breakable things inside the clinic have been smashed and most of the less breakable things have been lasered. Nova Black raises her arm again for a last, finishing touch, when an unfamiliar voice interrupts her. With a growl, she turns. "Sending a message." Quickrazor clears his intakes. "This isn't a message, it's a Primus-damned documentary." Whilst a more sensible part of Hookshot's processor tells him to just leave it and continue gathering intel, especially since this looks like it will continue to get more and more messy, a more dominant portion exclaims that messy is also infinitely more interesting. Hookshot cautiously approaches the clinic, keeping behind Quickrazor, but trying to see and hear as much as possible. Hearing Quickrazor's comment, he ventures further, adding his voice to the fray. "And I wouldn't send it to the editor like THAT!" Nova Black whirls around, her still-charged weaponry seething with energy. "And you have a problem with it, glider? And you -- I don't know *who* you are. But the femme who ran this clinic betrayed the Decepticons." And I'm the one who brought her in, she thinks, but doesn't say. Reckless as she is, she's not an idiot. "Are you trying to tell me I should just let that go? Like hell I would." Hookshot crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head to the side. "Come now Nova Black, when did I ever say I disapprove of what you are doing? I'm just saying it's not really sending a message signed 'with love, Nova Black'. Anyone could have trashed this place. What you really need to do is do something... that just SCREAMS out your name. Maybe leave a set of optics someplace. I know optics make me think of you." Quickrazor looks at Nova oddly, his optics flashing almost in...amusement? "No, but this little...message...has likely destroyed supplies that could have been used to save /your/ aft in /my/ medbay. I deplore waste, especially pointless waste." He indicates the toasted building. "Did this 'fix' things? Did it change the facts?" Hookshot sideglances over at Quickrazor. "I'd say not, but it made her feel good, but she doesn't look any happier." Nova Black growls. She had been about to do something almost that obvious, in fact. She's half-glad of the interruption, though. In a roundabout way, the irritating glider is right. Leaving it a little less obvious is probably a better idea. "Maybe I should tear out yours," she mutters darkly, glaring at the glider. She turns to Quickrazor. "As for *you*, Doc, glad to see we've got someone new to replace the betraying vermin infesting our medbay. But I didn't know that you needed to come out here to Scrapville for parts. Unless you had some cushy little deal with the *traitor* who ran this place?" Hookshot puts a hand over his optics for a moment. "Hmmm.... nope, I think I would infinitely prefer to keep them where they are, thank you very much. After all, you have exceeded your quota for parts of me you can rip out for this orn. You'll have to wait until it refills and you can resume mangling and dismembering your favorite glider," he says, slowly lowering his hand. "Calming down, I think, would benefit us all about now. They DO actually have a law enforcement here, and you just MIGHT get tangled up in that, Decepticon or not." Quickrazor tilts his helm right back at Hookshot. "Electroshock can make one 'feel good' as well, but I don't recommend prolonged exposure." He looks to Nova and a funny little smile touches his face, and he brings up a single finger to his chin. "Little Seeker, parts are parts, regardless of their source. Scrapville or the Towers, it matters not to me. As for any supposed connection between myself and the traitor who was executed before my optics, the only /connection/ we share is the fact that I /may/ have her ash somewhere on my frame. As I hit the racks earlier this cycle, I doubt it." Nova Black chuckles in spite of herself at his comment about the washracks. Then her scarred optics narrow. "For your sake I hope so, Doc. But you call me 'little' anything again, and you'll be fixing yourself up." Hookshot leans over to Quickrazor with a surreptitious glance at Nova Black. "She's quite touchy," before straightening up, turning his full attention to Nova Black, and smiling pleasantly. "Well, glad to see you calming down. Now then, I'd offer to buy you a drink for all your troubles, but the only local bar I trust is still a heap of debris. So how about a rain check on that and I can buy you one at the Tina sometime when we're both in the Hex, hmmm?" Nova Black's frame rumbles in one last mistrustful grumble. Then she gives the medic a begrudging little nod. She can definitely see his logic, particularly given how often she winds up dented, cracked, torqued, and scarred from battle or even particularly merciless sparring. "My name is Nova Black. That charming little pest over there is Hookshot, if you haven't met him already." Quickrazor nods, courtesy evident in his stance. "I know few in this area. I was only recently transferred." He leans against what once looked to be a table, and jumps back when it shudders and collapses under his not inconsiderable weight. "Fraggit!" he spits almost silently. Hookshot leans back over to Quickrazor, beaming widely, "She called me charming!" he says in a quiet yet excited tone. he then clears his vents noisily and takes a step towards Nova Black. "Now then... in here I do not mind assosciating with Decepticons, but once we relocate from this mess, I will ask you not to refer to me as Hookshot. Just continue on with your cute nickname for me, Nova. Just refer to me as Glider and all will be good." He glances about himself. "I also believe that we should get on the move before what uncorrupt law officials are left arrive... or worse..." he shudders visibly, "...Autobots that just HAPPEN to be in the neighborhood." Quickrazor shrugs. "I could use a spare Autobot or three. I have some...compounds..that need testing beyond the drone stage." "I'll call you whatever the slag I want to," Nova mutters, without nearly as much heat as was evident short minutes ago. "But you're right. Safer in Neutral territory to go by a less obvious name. And yes, we should get out of here. I've got no problem with Scrapville. Or the machines living in it. Until they cross --" me, she thinks, but settles for saying the less specific, but also true "-- the Decepticons. It really doesn't matter to me what most of 'em do with their lives. So yes, we should get the hell out of here." She grins at Quickrazor's comment. "Sounds fun to watch. You'll have to show 'em off to me sometime." Quickrazor smiles at Nova. The smile is vaguely disturbing-looking on some level. "I wouldn't want to bore you with the technical details, but I won't deny the need for an assistant, at times..." Nova Black's ebony faceplates twist into a grin. "Heh. Sounds good to me, Doc. I tend to just beat 'em to death, but... some of 'em deserve a bit worse." Her wings twitch. "And I think maybe I've seen somethin' like what you're talking about before once." Hookshot glances between the two of them, satisfied that they acquiesced getting on the move. He already is starting to walk away, glances about himself alertly, seeming to check for any trouble. "Sounds fascinating. With hardcore femmes like Nova on the team, you are not going to be short on Autobot parts. Trust me." Quickrazor cocks his silvered helm sideways. "Do remember to try and keep the chestplates as pristine as possible. There /is/ a war on, you know, and despite our Lord's greatest efforts a supply line sometimes can shut down. Fuel pumps, plating, cabling, and the like..could mean the difference between fighting another day or bleeding out on my floor. I don't like the mess." Nova Black shudders violently. "Rather not have Autoscum parts anywhere *near* my chassis if it can be helped. But I do take your point, Doc." She looks around at the mess with a twitch of her wings that might even be slight embarrassment. "Anyway, nothin' more I can do here until I have that traitor femme in my target lock. Cowardly Glider is right. We should get back into the air." Quickrazor nods. "If I am forced to utilize such in your repairs, I'll simply not tell you. Faction isn't emblazoned upon one's inner workings, anyway...it's in the spark. Where it counts. And I've not yet discovered how to make /those/." Upon seeing that the coast is clear, Hookshot motions for the others to follow. "I will take you to a place ideal for liftoff without attracting too much attention. However, I must stay in Cubicron until I finish what I came here to do. You two young lovers have fun up in the air." Slaggit. That was *not* what Nova Black wanted to hear. And given that the only real choices for medical care in Polyhex right now are this new mech, NPandemiC, and whatever Knifepoint pretends to know about repairing other Decepticons, it's not like she has much of a choice. "Lead on," she mutters wryly. Quickrazor instantly glares a hole through Hookshot. "....lovers....?" he says in a tone usually reserved for encountering something truly distasteful. Hookshot turns back to glance at them both to be sure they are following, and sees the glare. This only causes his grin to deepen. "It's just a word. Glad I got your attention. Now come on." Quickrazor contemplates what Hookshot wiuld look like strapped to a medberth, optics forced open, with one of 'Razor's needle-tips imbedded in his main energon feed. He shakes his head and follows, muttering something about 'witless gliders'. "Try not to pay too much attention to -- Glider here," Nova says, cracking a tiny grin. "He says whatever he thinks will torque you off. Bother with it when the little piece of scrap actually manages it." Hookshot barks out a single syllable of a chuckle before stopping abruptly as he leads them through a maze of alleyways and back streets. "Nova has me all figured out. Besides, being kind and respectful keeps propelling the lies of cycle to cycle living and expectations. It's much easier to get to know people when you push their buttons.... and I do so adore buttons. The next best way to get into their mind is to torment them. Finally, hold them at the edge of death at your complete mercy. Then we can all be best friends." Quickrazor nods once more, memorizing the glider's faceplates for future reference. "If I was /really/ torqued off, he'd know it." *Because I'd stick a finger in his eye and pull just to see how far it would stretch.* Nova Black's grin widens. "Heh. I think he knows when I'm torqued too. Last time, I just ripped his vocalizer out. Fastest way I could think of to shut him the hell up." Quickrazor turns to the both of them. "It was...interesting to meet the two of you. Duty calls, however, so i really must be going." He gives them a sidelong glance. "You /don't/ have to be slagged to come to the repair campus, you know." Quickrazor jumps into the air and shifts, his limbs twisting and folding into a smallish silvery glider. "Mmm, yes, I remember that quite vividly. I also admit I quite deserved it, but I think it is safe to say you got even and we both moved on," Hookshot comments just as they came to the intended location. He watches Quickrazor make a hasty exit and glances over at Nova Black. "Oooooh... I like him!" Quickrazor takes off into the air with a rattle, showing that his flight mode /really/ isn't something to brag about. He heads ba k toward Polyhex at a sedate pace. Nova Black chuckles. "Point taken, Doc. And Glider, fine. But if I ever hear you insinuate anything like that again, I'll make sure they can't find you a new one the next time." She does as Quickrazor does, passing him a bit showily for the sheer amusement of it as she speeds home. Hookshot just nods and smiles to aquiescence to Nova Black, stepping back so that she has plenty of room to take off. He waves them goodbye, and seems unpeturbed by the amount of threats hinted or outright laid upon him.
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