No Higher Ground

Harrow is watching a fierce haggling fight between a massive tank of sorts and an itty bitty cyclebot, the merchant. It looks as if he's winning, and eventually the tank gives up and moves on. Harrow peers out from his hiding spot in the alley, finally finding the will to walk among the neutrals and have a look at what was being quarreled over.

"No no," Fairway says, backing away from a pestering urchinbot. He raises his hands in protest. The urchin has a rag and squeegee and is trying his damndest to clean and shine whatever metal bits of Fairway he can reach. "Please, small one, as I have been trying to tell you, I have no need of that..." It's then that he stumbles over a display of rolled up rugs and falls backward into Harrow. "Oh Dear," he says, regaining his balance. The urchinbot flails his squeegee in vain. "I'm sorry, sir. I..." As he turns, there is a glimmer of recognition in his optic.

"Oof!" Harrow growls in an airy but definitely male voice, whirling to face his aggressor. He notices the urchinbot first, and shakes a fist in his face, "Beat it pipsqueak, 'fore I rip out your gyros!" His optics finally fall on... that DeLorean! "You... you...!!"

Fairway doesn't know quite what to do at first. He receives...conflicting signals from this mech. He takes a few steps back, but can't move too far in the crush and with those carpets at his heels. "Decepticon..." Fairway isn't thinking when he reaches to put his hand on Harrow's shoulder.

Combat: Fairway misses Harrow with his Hold It Right There (Grab) attack!

Harrow springs out of arm's length, optics wide. Can't draw too much attention. Feeling a bit stupid, he brings a digit to his lips, "Shh! ..." Straightening with a smirk, he plants his hands on his hips, "You're the fraggin' carbot that tried to molest me, aren't you!"

Fairway flails for a second as Harrow jumps out of his reach. He rights himself quickly and moves to try and retracts his right hand to reveal his arm blade. The energon weapon crackles; Cybertronians in the general vicinity back away, pointing and staring. Fairway looks about, realizing that starting a fight here would be a monumentally bad idea. He deactivates the weapon and crosses his arms. "You accuse me of what? Attempting to...Ohhhh!" He sneers. "I recognize you now! Though you were a femme when last we met. Has the Decepticons' misogyny finally motivated them to mandate that all femmes within their ranks undergo gender reassignment?" He starts to walk forward to try and force Harrow to back up so he can lead him down an alley and away from the crowd. "And, for what it's worth, you accuse me unjustly. You were the aggressor - as your kind usually is."

Harrow shifts into a tensed, defensive stance with Fairway whips out his blade. As he speaks, the Seeker shakes his helm, "Misogyny? I don't know what you're talking about. I look like this for reasons I certainly don't have to reveal to the likes of YOU!" As Fairway advances, Harrow instinctively backs away into the alley, so very tempted to draw a weapon. "What are you doing here..."

Fairway backs Harrow into the alley and, when they are out of sigh of prying eyes, he reaches for his wrist. He would restrain him, but for what purpose he isn't sure. He wears the purple sigil - he can't be up to any good. "I am doing the same thing everyone ELSE is doing here, but that is none of your concern, Decepticon. A more pressing concern is YOUR purpose here, which I have no doubt is nefarious. Even in your subconscious, evil lurks; you could very well be telling the truth to say that you are here with no other purpose but to shop, but, sooner or later, the same poison in your fuel lines that lead you to join the faction of chaos and domination would compel you to commit some atrocity. Perhaps the sight of free peoples engaging in fair trade would fire your wicked impulses."

Harrow simply leers at him, optics narrow red diamonds glaring through the shadows. "Evil?" he chuckles, "You poor drone. You, like everyone else in your sorry faction, have been misinformed. One day, you'll see that our cause is just... but perhaps you'll just be a hardened lump of melted metal by then. That's too bad. Autobots are so terribly blind to the world around them... My business here is none of-" The grip of his wrist flings him into a world of rage. As if a fox ensnared by a leg-hold trap, Harrow thrashes and yanks. "Release me FILTH!" he yelps, finally drawing out his vibro-scalpel.

Combat: Harrow misses Fairway with his Let GO! (Grab) attack!

Fairway keeps his hand curled tight around Harrow's wrist. His other hand shoots out to keep the vibro-scalpel away. "Lecture me not, degenerate; you wade in above your head! And sheath your weapon. Both of us are time displaced! Your savagery is purposeless; killing me shan't help your chances of returning to your own time. Quite the opposite in fact."

Combat: Fairway strikes Harrow with his No Stabby (Grab) attack!

"RrrrRRRRGHH!" Harrow growls angrily as he's effectively disabled by a groundpounder. "It might not, but it'd sure make me feel better!" his voice shakes, fuel pump nigh beating out of his chest. Eventually, however, the scalpel gets subspaced. "You're saying our chances of returning to the present hinge on the Autobots? Don't make me laugh - ! ... What are the Autobots doing?"

Only after Harrow spaces his scalpel does Fairway release Harrow. He wipes his palms on his thighs and makes a disgusted face. "What all who are stranded here SHOULD be doing." He looks left and right, suddenly paranoid. Then he looks back to the Decepticon. The change has been remarkably thorough. "Listen, Decepticon. We have a score to settle, but our war is not for this time. We are brothers of a sort - Cybertronians time-lost - and conflict must fall by the wayside if any of us is to return to our own time. And, of course, all must return, lest the time stream be altered cataclysmically." His voice is low, raspy, and conspiratorial. "Now...where did you appear after the time jump?"

Harrow finds that he can't quite predict his mech. It unsettles him more than he cared to admit. Pulling away, he rubs at his wrists. "You want a truce eh? Hmph. Not even the Prime of this era cares about you and your brethren. Let's say I don't /remember/ where I appeared first." Harrow was no quantum physicist, but it was safe to say he knew the basics, and had already gone over several theories in his head. "Our scientists are working on it..."

Fairway frowns. "I propose nothing. I assert that a truce has been thrust upon us." He crosses his arms. "But I suppose that I make a mistake in expecting any kind of cooperation from one such as you." Surely he wasn't about to go spilling his secrets to this...gender-confused Seeker. Cooperation is impossible. He drops his hands to his sides and bunches his fists. "There are scientists among you, eh? How efficient can they be when not devising methods of torture or building more efficient weapons of mass destruction?" He fumes, paces in a tiny circle, strokes his wedge of a beard. "You're coming with me. We're going back to the Autobot camp, and maybe then you'll be more cooperative!"

Combat: Fairway misses Harrow with his MENACE! (Grab) attack!

Harrow seethes at the accusation, "Our scientists are- HEY!" He dances away from the grab, enraged at the thought of being dragged away by such a lowly life form! Yes, Harrow has a bit of a god complex when it comes to Autobots. "You'll get no such cooperation from me, scoundrel!" At his limit, he whips out his blade again and makes to stab Fairway's shoulder with it, electricity sparking from its tip.

Combat: Harrow strikes Fairway with his Vibro-Scalpel attack! [Pulled -2]

"Gaahk!" Fairway clenches his dental plates, staggering back, as the scalpel slashes into his shoulder. Sparks and energon pour from the wound, and Fairway's earlier impulse to refrain from violence melts away. He's incensed, and activates his energo blade to rush at Harrow with lust for the Decepticon’s death blazing in his optics. He aims to impale him through the canopy.

Combat: Fairway strikes Harrow with his Energo Blade (Punch) attack!

Harrow apparently wasn't expecting such a swift and harsh retaliation. The blade shatters his canopy and pierces right into a fuel tank, forcing energon to bubble up from his lips. "Huhkk," he gargles, stumbling back against the building. "Heh... feisty little car, aren't you..." He lifts his vibro-scalpel high over his helm and aims to pierce the DeLorean's neck as he lunges forward. "If it's a fight you want-!!"

Combat: Harrow strikes Fairway with his Slash attack! [Pulled -1]

Fairway rolls aside in time to avoid being stabbed in the neck, but still takes a nasty slash across his cheek and jaw. This will leave a scar no matter how well he tends to it. Snarling, energon running down his face in hot violet streams to stain his hood, he reaches for Harrow's throat with his left hand, kicks out toward his near leg, and aims to take him to the ground and stab him through the elbow joint of his scalpel arm.

Combat: Fairway strikes Harrow with his Takedown (Punch) attack!

Harrow laughs at the lovely sliver he'd left on that charming face. His mirth is cut short when a foot lashes out and takes him down, and before he knows what is happening, the fingers gripping the scalpel spread wide, drop the blade, and spasm. Harrow looks over to see his elbow joint nearly run through. Pain rushes to his head and he cries out, writhing on the ground. "Auugh! INGRATE!" he shrieks, balling his still functioning fist for a smack to the helm guard.

Combat: Harrow strikes Fairway with his Punch attack!

Fairway kneels, half straddling Harrow, and is raising his blade for another slash, this time at his opposite shoulder. But before he can bring his weapon down he is punched hard in the head and staggers back, knocked onto his feet with his arms wheeling as he struggles to catch his balance. He tilts on his heels, barely able to avoid tumbling backward out of the alley. "You have no moral ground to claim!" This is Fairway's attempt at a scathing insult as he pounces on Harrow to smash him in the face with his left fist.

Combat: Fairway strikes Harrow with his Pounce! (Punch) attack!

Harrow scrambles backwards when he's momentarily released, energon pooling in copious amounts beneath him. A stab to tanks doesn't quite bode well for energy or health. His forearm is dead weight, so he yanks it clean off, and hurls it at Fairway before pushing himself back onto his feet. Perhaps it was time to retreat...

Combat: Harrow strikes Fairway with his Need a hand?! (Smash) attack!

Fairway certainly didn't see that coming! Harrow's recently-removed arm smashes him in the face, the bulb of the elbow connecting squarely with the bridge of his nose. Coolant immediately wells up in his optics, blurring his vision, and energon streams liberally from his crushed olfactory sensor. He staggers, retracting his energo blade so he can hold his face. "You savage!" His words are distorted, the blow having temporarily paralyzed part of his vocalizer. "Lifesucking Decepticon rust heap!" He swings his fist wildly, unable to see Harrow properly.

Combat: Fairway takes extra time to steady himself. [Pass]

Harrow hated Autobots very much so... but /damn/, not in the same way this particular Autobot appeared to hate Decepticons! He leans heavily against the wall, clutching his shattered canopy while energon streams down his thrusters. "Your rage makes me very curious as to what we've done to you... H-have we killed a friend? A loved one? Destroyed a home city? Tell me, and I'll gladly be on my way..."

Combat: Harrow takes extra time to steady himself. [Pass]

Fairway falls with his shoulder against the wall, fisting energon and coolant from his eyes and aspirating heavy sighs which burn in his chest. His engine whines, and heat ripples off of him. "My...my home. Crystal City." Fairway can barely speak, and when he does manage to his tone is positively poisonous. "Many friends...colleagues...many great minds. Decepticons took them, snuffed them, extinguishing hundreds of sparks in one fell swoop, leaving me with...nothing." He looks at Harrow now, feeling more than a bit defeated but fighting hard to maintain the anger that has kept him going thus far. "Only war. And death. Sustenance for such monsters as you."

"I see," Harrow answers a little too quickly. Perhaps he was no longer keen on being in the same vicinity. Not now. "I hope, for your sake, one day, you'll see our reasons clearly. The sacrifices made in the name of our cause are noble - Crystal City was very lucky indeed." Reaching for his alkaline-spattered scalpel, he subspaces it, and turns to leave down the opposite end of the alley.

Combat: Harrow begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Fairway

"Never," Fairway growls, "never." He unspaces his scram rifle and aims it at Harrow's back. But his hand is shaking; he can't draw a bead on the Decepticon, so he lets the weapon fall to the ground with a clatter and slides down to sit with his back against the wall. He shall have to spend a bit of time patching up his face...but for now he simply slumps in the alley; he is angry and lonely for his time and his home.

Combat: Fairway begins retreating, outrunning all pursuit.