Autograph Session

Polyhex Region - Cybertron

The seat of the Decepticon Empire is in Polyhex, and its influence is felt throughout the region that bears its name. With the front lines to the north at Magnaron, the further south one goes the stronger the Decepticon infrastructure and Seeker patrols get. Stanix, Fort Scyk, and even the ruins of Vilnacron serve as grim outposts, with Polyhex in the centre. To the east is the famed Crystal City, only slightly less oppressive than its neighbors. To the south are the imposing and dangerous Quartzite mountain range, providing natural defences.

Contents: Solstice A bloody warning

Blast Off stands at an excellent vantage point not too far from the entrance of Crystal City. The Combaticon was here just the other cycle, fighting off the Autobot "infestation"... and as CO of Aerospace he's decided to stick around and make sure no MORE of the pests decide to intrude. He's reading a datapad at the moment, passing some time, but glancing up every now and then and sweeping scanners across the area to check for any sign of life. Non-Decepticon life.

Solstice skids across another ramp, tires leaving fat, sticky marks on the substrate before releasing their grip. The vehicle leaving the ground in a leap, only to glide onto another series of streets. "Bollocks. I wanna redo..."

Blast Off looks up from his datapad to make another sweep... and picks up a signal. Violet optics flicker as he detects... Autobot... then narrow in annoyance. His blaster appears from subspace into his hand, and the Combaticon is soon coming closer to Solstice's current location. Hmm... she looks vaguely familiar, but he hasn't really interacted with her much.... though wasn't she there during that night at the opera?

Hovering from a good vantage point, he aims his weapon at her, but doesn't fire... yet. "You Autofools don't learn, do you? Coming for a second invasion attempt, are we?"

Orange Koenigsegg settles on the other patch of roadway, gunning engine as she heads towards a swell in the distance, plotting a jump. Intakes shriek, pulling in air, engine roars and she gives a pop of her suspension, hitting the top of the rise and going up, into the air in a high jump. Still, words come through the aether at her and elicit the most intelligent of responses:

"Huh?"

Blast Off blinks at that response, his weapon still aimed at her. "What do you mean... "HUH?" Don't play stupid with ME, Autofool. Well... then again, what would I expect with a Autofool anyway? Turn around and tell any friends you have with you to retreat NOW and I *might* let you live..."

Orange Koenigsegg forgets to land and hovers for a moment, rotating mid-air to track where the words are coming from. "Oh.. You.." Pulse to get her bearings, "Well.. Huh.. Sorry about th' tresspassin' but not exaaaactly sure where th' best jumps are an' all. I'll just be goin' now."

Blast Off watches her hovering... oh, is she one of those flying cars, then? He flies in a bit closer, though keeping his distance as always. "Oh, I see. I'm supposed to believe you merely got... lost, is that it?" He tchs, still aiming his weapon. "Unlikely story." With that, the sniper takes a shot.

Combat: Blast Off sets his defense level to Guarded. Combat: Blast Off strikes Solstice with his Then scram already attack! [Pulled -3]

Orange Koenigsegg continues to hover, dear primus how'd she get this far south. Man were those jumps nice. "A bit yeah. Cybertron's not my home y' see. Wasn't.. Somethin' like that.." Whoah, incoming! The car bank-rolls as the sniper shot sears across the hood, roof and boot-hatch of the vehicle, etching in deep enough to cause a thin eruption of interstitial fluids. "For th' love of-! Mech please. I just wanna go *home*. An' now I don't trust you not t' shoot me in the back when I leave. And t think, I wanted your autograph..." The car slowly backs off, flicking headlights on and off.

Blast Off huffs. "Cybertron's NOT your home? You're a Cybertronian, aren't you?..." He gives her a droll look, then continues his pursuit, aiming his weapon once more. "You want to go home? I thought you just said this planet ISN'T your home?" He prepares to fire, but then she mentions... an autograph? He blinks at that, and for now doesn't shoot. Instead, he's slightly... confsued."....Autograph? ...For WHAT?!"

Orange Koenigsegg drifts sideways but does not get closer at..all. "Earth. I was made there. That's home. This place is nice an'a ll but it's just not th' same." Pause as she thinks, "Th' opera. You were pretty fantastic. And with this all being a giant-aft war that's been ongoing for millions and millions of years, chances are that oen of us'll get thrashed so.. Wanted your autograph as a reminder that there are finer things in life that I'll never get to see but I got a small peek and that was... enlightening."

Blast Off makes an annoyed sigh. "Earth? THAT mudball? What a miserable place to wake up on... or BE from...." Of course, he doesn't mention that HE actually woke up on Earth in 1985 after being in the Detention Center mind prison for millions of years... faced with a planet and a body he didn't recognize, a war that had gone on and evolved without him and his team... and everything he had or knew long gone.

He shakes his head at the memory, then stops at the rest of her comments- and stares. Then he looks suspicious. "...You are just trying to butter me up, so I won't shoot you." Though... he *doesn't* shoot.

Solstice Orange Koenigsegg continues to hover. "If I were trying t' butter you up, I think I'd be smart enough t' use something more genius than a night at th' opera that went pear shaped." Tone slightly snarkish. "But it was seein' that that let me get an idea of why everyone fights. Preserve things like that. An ideal of perfection."

Blast Off tilts his head at Solstice, looking a bit snarky himself as he does... but his weapon lowers ever so slightly. "Oh/ So you're saying that you /also/ appreciate things like culture and class?" He sounds like he doesn't believe it. He's pretty sure than Autofools are too riff-raffian and foolish to be able to appreciate such things... though then again, so are most Cons....

"In my experience I am an island of class among a /sea/ of chaos and dischord.... and I find few other "islands" out there. Most others are too busy just pounding each others faces in... for fun or profit, take your pick."

The Koenigsegg splits, unfolds and reshapes upwards into Solstice.

Solstice shifts into root mode.. and remains airborne. "Never had seen it before so I didn't even /know/ that it was there t' be missed. Does make a body wonder what else isn't included in initial engrams though." Door wings droop, "I mean, I can field-strip a carbine inna nanoclick, I can recite th' treatise of Vos an' I can pinstrine freehand but there's no culture in all of that. It's just.. filler."

Combat: Your COMBAT flag has been cleared.

Blast Off regards Solstice dubiously... but it would appear there might be at least a grain of truth in what she says... at least, it doesn't *sound* insincere... it sounds almost plausible. His weapon lowers down ever-so-slightly more, but he's still ready to leap back into combat. Her ability to hover in root mode is noted, as well.

"Then perhaps you notice that there is more to life than mere rote actions and repetitive, dreary and mindless submission to the status quo. If so, I commend you for showing some small spark of *intelligence*. I suppose perhaps you do have at least enough to have been there at that opera... Which WAS a fine piece of artistic delight. I quite enjoyed myself there."

Solstice gives a sigh, "I mean, seein' that made me feel all empty inside. Still wanted your autograph though." Optics narrow, "Even though you've shot me a few times, still want it as a reminder." She carefully keeps arms away from her sides and those pistols holstered at her hips.

I'm starting t' notice that there's a bit more goin' on than th' two-diminsional good verses bad. I'm young, not idiotic." Pause, "Well the idiot bits debatable now. I did trespass." She shrugs, "So.. are y' going t' shoot me again now or could I seriously get your autograph?"

Blast Off wasn't quite expecting... this. He stares a little more, then blinks once more and looks around. At the moment, it appears to just be the two of them. The "classy" Combaticon returns his gaze to the Autobot. He does actually manage a tiny chuckle as she self-depreciates and calls herself an idiot.

"Then you are not a complete idiot, then. No, it IS NOT as simple as black and white. It *never is*. Everyone has their own agenda, and their own propoganda campaign to run.... I won't claim the Decepticons are perfect angels, but neither are the Autobots...." He huffs as various memories run through his mind.

"But something *each individual* can do is to keep their optics open. DON'T believe everything you're told, and don't let others tell you how to think. That is a start. And if you are truly heading down that path...." His weapon finally lowers all the way down. "Then no, I suppose there's no reason to shoot you as long as you leave soon."

And he tilts his head, still slightly suspicious. "....You're really serious about the autograph thing?"

Solstice raises a brow, door-wings giving a slow flick. "No, not a complete idiot, just partial. At least it's not terminal idiocy.. Not yet." She flashes a tentative smile before shading serious. "There's a lot of emotional baggage floating around with all of.." wave of her hand, "This. While data's parsable, never really conveys how folks were feeling at the time. Just raw data. And not always th' truth. 'Cause history's always written by the winner of whatever little scenario's occured."

She gets a sheepish expression, door-wings wiggling, "Uhm.. Yeah? I am serious about th' autograph thing. I do want a reminder that it isn't all tactics and orders an' getting pigeonholed due to some fluke of programmin'. I'd like t' remember that there's a bit more out there than that."

Blast Off listens to Solstice and is beginning to come to the conclusion that she really *isn't* an idiot, even despite being an Autobot. He replies, more quietly, "Indeed. Data can be manipulated. Slag, two individuals can take the *exact same data* and make it *appear* to prove entirely different conclusions, depending on what slant they want to give it, and the tiny little pieces each decides to conveniently "leave out". " He lets out another small huff, a snort of derision basically, and shakes his head.

Then he looks back up at her, optics narrowing as he debates whether he ought to trust her on this... autograph thing. But... he *is* pretty amazing, so he supposes it's not entirely un-understandable that someone would want his autograph....

Blast Off finally decides, and with another shake of his head... a rare bemused one this time, he pulls something out of subspace. It's a small opera flier, for an upcoming Kaon Opera, that he's hoping to go see soon. He stares at it, then looks to her... and brings out a small writing utensil. The Combaticon signs his autograph right there, for Solstice. He brings it up to his face and looks at it, still hardly believing he's doing this.... then flies forward a bit before placing it down upon an empty street, giving her a courteous nod, and flying back a ways to let her retrieve the item.

Solstice gives a slow nod of her head, actually listening it would appear. "It does make looking into the histories tedious when you notice a particular pattern in who 'leaves out' what." A shrug, "I'm just a grunt though so, I'll keep reading. Maybe that'll change." Happy smile as she watches Blast Off. Is he really...

Solstice watches as the bit of whatnot is set on an empty street. She glances around, then back to Blast Off before gliding down and landing only long enough (one hopes) to nab the sheet and get back into the air. "Thank you, sir." Restraining any dispay of youthful exhuberence in the face of the enemy. It just wouldn't be apropriate... And might get her shot -again. "I'm going to go now. Before you have t' shoot me or someone decides I'm better off as th' light bulb changer again." A wave of her hand as that flyer is ever so carefully tucked into a panel. "Thank you.."

Blast Off holds back, and keeps his weapon lowered. He's actually just a bit flattered now... it appears she really did want his autograph. Well, definitely shows she's not a fool, then. He nods politely to her as she thanks him, and watches her depart, pausing occasionally to glance about and make sure this wasn't all just witnessed by anyone. But it seems this little piece of warside drama ...or was it poetry?... shall remain a secret for now.

As Solstice retreats, the Combaticon returns to his perch- and his datapad, a little more hopeful that perhaps he's not the lone island of intelligence and class he sometimes feels like.

Solstice scampers back to base!