Over the Top

The Steel Balloon

Within the Steel Balloon, there is a dance floor immediately past the front door. Behind the floor is the main bar, which curves around like an elongated half-octagon. Several bartenders busily serve the customers that flow into this place at any given time.

Tremor enters the Steel Balloon with a smirk, strutting proudly, and slaps his palm onto the bar. "Strong stuff," he demands, "I wantcha ta knock me to the Pit, boss."

Windshear is sitting at a corner table, with a femme in his lap, drinking his umpteenth drink for the night, drunk and saying something quietly to the femme.

Brawl stomps in right behind Tremor, still sporting the damage from Windshear's pirate cosplaying experience. Sauntering up to the bar AKA tromping like Godzilla, the Combaticon slams a fist down and merely repeats what Tremor said. "Brawl want strong stuff!" He's not the opitomy of originality.

The Bartender looks at Tremor and looks at BRawl and turns away for a moment. When he turns back he sets two identical glasses of blue smoking energon down in front of each one. "There, that should be strong enough for you..."

Brawl takes his drink in one hand, giving Tremor a once over before finally realizing Windshear was in the room. "Hey, Brawl need speak wif Seekerface!" The Combaticon tromps up to him, the drink sloshing around and spilling to the floor.

Windshear was talking into the femmes audio when he hears Brawl suddenly. He pulls his head away and looks at the approaching Combaticon. "Its...Windshear." he rasps somewhat laid back.

Tremor watches everything unfold with barely-maintained interest. He sits at the bar and gulps his drink down, ordering another. "Long patrol," he muses to no one in particular. The bartender, maybe. "Nobody at home. Time ta get tanked, yeah? One more, please. Double."

"That what Brawl said, Windsmear!" Brawl challenges, giving the femme a nasty look. "Femme need shoo shoo, Brawl have portant talk now." Still stomping around, the Combaticon takes a seat next to the Seeker and spills some of his drink on them both.

The femmes gives Brawl a dirty look then turns and wipes the spilled drink off of Windshears arm. He smiles at her and nudges her off his lap gently, "I shouldnt be long." he mumers and as she walks away he stares at her momentarily then turns back to Brawl. He spots Tremor in the process and nods at him. "Ok, Brak, what do you want?" he asks kind of accidently on purpose screwing the decepticons name up as well.

Brawl leans forward, pinching the femme's rear end before settling back in his seat. "Brak? You dumber than Brawl, least Windsmear sound like real name." he adds, taking a long drink of the deadly concoction without a faceplate no less. "You owe Brawl ru-bee, where is it?"

Trem points taps his arms, points to Windy gives the thumbs up as he polishes off his second drink. His third he sips slowly, not wanting to get overcharged to the point of falling off his stool. Not just yet anyway. He periodically stares into the middle distance, something any fellow Cybertronian would realize meant that Trem was clocking his processor - essentially watching the time.

Windshear watches Brawl pinch the femmes aft. She looks back and wrinkles her nose at him, "Unhand me bafoon!" she says and stomps off. Windshear watches her walk away as he answers Brawl, "Brak is a name.... windsmear is not.. and youre ruby? how much you think that punch cost? -- pinch.." he smirks and takes a swig of his drink as he looks back at Brawl. Hes drunk and its obvious but he still looks his dreamy self (harhar) though his optics seem a bit different now then the last time Brawl saw him.

"Oh, how much it cost? Brawl not realize that prostibot!" Brawl bellows, burping.

Tremor chuckles, mildly amused by Brawl. He hasn't forgotten that sucker punch tho. A femme approaches him with a datapad in hand. She offers him the pad and a stylus, wanting an autograph. He signs nonchalantly, not wanting to try attention to himself.

Brawl grabs up the ruby, tucking it away in a compartment. He doesn't trust subspace, probably doesn't even understand what it is. Maybe a magical wizard portal/pouch. Whirling around, the Combaticon notices Tremor drawing more attention at the bar. And off he stomps, to cause trouble as usual. "Hey Tremble, what you sign for? Did prostibot need kredit name for transakshun?"

Tremor continues to sip his drink, playing it cool. The femme ducks away, her hand to her mouth, to show the datapad to a gaggle of her friends, all of whom have identical body types. "Nothin," he says, "she jus rec'anized me, zall." He looks to Windy, hoping to distract Brawl. Brawl seems easily distracted, really. "What's this about rubies?"

Windshear smirks as Brawl tucks it away in a physical compartment instead of subspace. As rare as it is for Decepticons, he is a mech of his word. BRawl asked for a ruby and the Seeker promised him one. Its as simple as that. He did start to play a joke on him but realized it would probably end in a fight and hes still recovering so he was wise and changed his mind on that. He notices the end of the autograph session with Tremor and smirks as the femme runs off to show it off then laughs when Brawl says what hs says. Hes still chuckling when Tremor asks about the rubies. "A mission I was sent on; retreive weapons grade rubies. I have a few left..." he smirks and decides to pull out a TF cig from an arm compartment and light it up. Blueish violet smoke wafts up from it and he takes a pull on it.

"Tremble there, why you think Brawl went along?" Brawl states so eloquently, slamming his fist on the bar for another refill. "Wait, Tremble didn't go for ru-bees? Tremble went just cause him Windsmear say so? Hawawawahawawa!"

Windshear frowns suddenly and looks at his drink, "Wait...werent you there, Tremor? Grumlick punched me through the windshielf of the shuttle, or tried to...

Tremor nods. "Oh that," he smiles. Of course he remembers. He was just trying to draw Brawl's attention away from his signing of the autograph. "It was Soun'wave told meeda go. We did get some rubies, yeah? Enough for what we need?"

Windshear nods "I got them, still have to deliver them..." he shrugs and takes a pull of his cig. "Course no one knows how many were in that crate..." he smirks...

Brawl continues laughing in Tremor's face, taking another sip of a recently delivered drink. "What Tremble sign name for? Is he famous?"

Tremor is stopped from replying to Windshear by Brawl's inquiry. He frowns a bit. "Yeah. Famous artist," he lies, "She wanted an autograph. You want one?" He knows he shouldn't be goading Brawl, but he can't help himself. He respects the Combaticon's strength and lust for battle, but there's something about Brawl that just gets under his skin, so to speak.

"Brawl famous artist too. Tremble must remember that werk of artistry Brawl do to him, punched him good!" Brawl states, setting down the drink and throwing a couple of jabs at an imaginary opponent. "Brawl strongest one there is too, cept him Galvatron."

Windshear sits and listens to brawl and tremor as he nurses his drink and his cig.

"I remember," says Trem with a glass at his lips. He also remembers a lengthy repair process and Harrow's personal therapeutic process - he takes solace in the fact that Brawl was left out of THAT entirely. He wants to deck Brawl, quite honestly. He's drunk enough. But he promised he'd be less reactive. "Ya beat me good. Yer stronger than me, 'at's fer sure."

"Here, Brawl prove it once and ferall!" Brawl yells to no one in particular, stomping over to a table and clearing it of it's glasses and occupants. The bartender gives him a nasty glare, but then ducks under the counter. Combaticons are not to be trifled with, especially this one. "Here, Tremble arm wrassle Brawl!"

Windshear looks at his own arm, the one that recently got rebuilt and looks at Tremor, "I dunno... hes pretty strong, Tremor."

Tremor considers this for a good long moment. He's starting to see, now, the way to Brawl's core: feats of strength. Of course it wouldn't do any good to embarass a Combaticon... and Trem doubts he would win such a contest anyway. Maybe it would soothe this savage beast if he sat down, gave Brawl a good fight, but let him win in the end. "Sure," he says, still not sure about this at all. It's for Harrow, he tells himself. It's for Harrow that I'm not wreckin this whole joint right now. He sits down with Brawl, ready to compete, and throws a nod to Windshear. (It would be a wink but for Trem's visor.)

Brawl grabs out with his arm, holding onto Tremor's hand. "Okay, WINDSMEAR you say go!" The Combaticon glares at his opponent, trying not to give away his sudden reverance for the mech. He expected him to shyly back out of the contest, heck most mechs in their right minds would really.

Windshear chuckles a bit at the mangle of his name and waits till everyones ready to go. Then with a slight nod he says. "Go."

Combat: Brawl compares his Strength to Tremor's Strength: Failure :(

Tremor is surprised to find himself a match for Brawl. He pushes hard, seeming to back Brawl down a bit, but then checks himself and lets the Combaticon start to get the advantage. He'll keep it competitive of course...in fact, at this point, he's still not sure he wants to through this contest.

Brawl struggles against his opponent, arm hydraulics shiting and extending to compensate for the battle of brawn. "Ha, that best Tremble got! This be.. HRMPH!" the Combaticon let's out, grabbing onto the table with his free hand and throwing his all into a push.

Combat: Tremor compares his Strength to Brawl's Strength: Success!

Tremor pushes back, not out of it yet. He counters Brawl's (possible illegal) table-assisted push by bracing his foot on the ground and using his leg strength to lever Brawl's arm back the other way. Something is close to breaking in his shoulder, but he ignores it. That just means more TLC for him.

Brawl strains against the push, his arm wavering and hovering a mere foot above the table's surface. Perhaps the dumbot should switch strategies, but then again matters of the mind aren't his strong suit. "If Brawl win this time, him get yer femmefriend!"

Combat: Brawl compares his Strength to Tremor's Strength: Success!

Tremor is now in serious danger of losing. This was what he planned to do. Until, of course, Brawl makes his declaration. "That aint the way this works," he strains. Can he lose again and have Brawl come after Harrow?

Brawl laughs, his plan working quite in reverse it seems. The jest only proves to infuriate Tremor, and he proves worth his mettle. Grunting, the Combaticon tries to quell this recent uprising of guts and lower Tremor's hand to the tabletop.

Combat: Tremor compares his Strength to Brawl's Strength: Success!

Trem changes his mind at the last possible second. Of course, even if Brawl were to win, there would be no way for him to collect, so to speak. But he may trym and that may lead to a real fight. Trem's quite tired of having to fight mechs away from Harrow. He pushes with everything he has, which is quite a lot when motivated by thoughts of his fellow Decepticons taking his love from him and laughing in his face. He manages to push Brawl to the brink, but he can get no further. He despairs for a moment, but pushes down with everything he has.

"Hey, whut wrong?" Brawl asks as Tremor stops his endless prattle and heaves with almost all of his strength. The Combaticon does everything in his power to keep his hand from immediately smashing to the table, only succeeding in merely delaying the inevitable. This however, pisses the mech off, as he's not happy about losing anything let alone a show of strength. This fight is over though, so Brawl's simple mind snatches onto the first thing to save face. With the back of his hand ever so slightly gracing the tabletop, he suddenly pulls back with one hand and throws out a punch with the other. Hit or miss, Brawl stalks out of the establishment all pissy. Even shoving one or two tables over and punching a random Decepticon Seeker before departing completely.

Combat: Brawl sets his defense level to Fearless.

Combat: Brawl strikes Tremor with his Sore loser (Grab) attack!

Tremor didn't expect much more from Brawl, quite honestly. The blow sends him tottering backward. He catches himself just as his chair falls over, and sends a look Windshear's way. "Sore loser," he smiles. Tremor didn't expect much more from Brawl, quite honestly. The blow sends him tottering backward. He catches himself just as his chair falls over, and sends a look Windshear's way. "Sore loser," he smiles.

Windshear shrugs, "Perhaps he wasnt expecting to find someone as strong as he is. I am not weak as Seekers go, but I couldnt take him...I know that."