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Who: Triggerhappy, Misfire, Blast Off |
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Carnival District
Ah, yes, the Monacus entertainment district, widely known throughout the universe as THE place to party. Night clubs, theatres, shops, pubs, gardens - every kind of activity to promote relaxation and fun for even the grumpiest of vacationers - line the streets as far as the optic can scan. The bright lights on the signs seem to blink happily, begging for customers to come in and stay for just a few minutes.
The Carnival District on Monacus is forever alight with dazzling advertisements, games, parties, shows, dancing, and music. People from all over the galaxy come here, in search of relaxation--of an escape from the stress and burdens of their everyday lives. Every hour of the day, the streets are filled with vendors, vacationers, and performers. A spindly white-skinned alien juggles fifteen blazing phosphex torches while standing on a glowing sphere while a small crowd applauds. A few steps over are a series of holograhpic carnival games, each one testing the player's marksmanship, brute strength, dexterity or perhaps just dumb luck. A large mech swings a sledgehammer down onto a platform.
PING!
The little spherical hologram shoots several mechanometers into the air, a golden trail of simulated fire sparkling behind it. Ah, but guess what Triggerhappy is doing? Yes, he is standing in one of those carnival games, one that involves--of course, shooting. Holographic targets rotate around the player, moving randomly back and forth as they travel 'round and 'round. He is laughing and firing wildly at the holograms with the fake gun that was to be used with the game. It's not as good as his own guns, but it'll have to do for now.
Blowpipe is sitting nearby, sipping a cocktail and looking bored with a hand propping his head up. Eh, he'd rather be on a patrol route...
Staring at all of the bright and shining lights, Misfire smiles lopsidedly as he spares a glance over at his Traveling Companion. "What did I tell you Blast Off? This place is perfect! Fun! Drinks! Game!" Misfire points, "Look at the Sledgehammer...Hahaha!" Misfire claps with glee as he nudges Blast Off. "Wha' did I tell you? Trigs...err Triggerhappy was telling me about this place. He said there was a..."
Misfire looks over at his other Traveling Companion, Aimless. "What was it?" Aimless looks up. "You said there would be girls....." Misfire stares at Aimless, then shrugs at Blast Off, "Hehehehe, Pets, never behave when you..." Aimless points, "GIRLS!" Aimless starts to take off towards a bright red light, Misfire starts to go after Aimless then stops, "SHOOTING BANAZA!"
Misfire turning back to Blast Off forgetting about Aimless, "That is it...Shooting Banaza! Come on Blast Off, we HAVE to go there! Trigs said it was, and I quote, BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH THE BEST! End quote. He saves that laugh for things he really likes. Or something really violent. But I am pretty sure this was the I like it laugh!"
Blast Off really has to wonder what he's doing here. The Combaticon surveys the scene. To him, this looks like a chaotic mess of sticky ener-popcorn and cheap games that are run by the moral equivalents of Swindle. Misfire is sure excited, even if the shuttle is not. Misfire tells him about this place and Triggerhappy's love of a particular shooting game. "If you insist. ...I fail to see the appeal of a place like this. But it figures Triggerhappy would like it...." He watches Aimless wander off and shrugs. The two continue towards the game Misfire mentioned. Blowpipe is sitting nearby, but organics are beneath Blast Off's notice, so he ...doesn't notice him. Besides, it's pretty crowded anyway. Stopping, he looks around. "You mentioned his laugh, Misfire? Why do I think I can hear it even now? And I don't even WANT to."
Yes, Triggerhappy can definitely be heard laughing maniacally as he sprays holographic laser fire all over the game station, blowing up random targets. The merchant running the stand looks quite amused at how much the mech loves that game. But hey, he can't complain--good business is good money!
The merchant is a tall, gangly alien with pale blue skin and a long, slender fin on his head that also runs down his back. He spots Misfire and Blast Off approaching, and grins. "Step right up, step right up!" he calls out. "Test your marksmanship against the rotating targets! Yes, many of you machine-types like this game, I promise!" he points to Triggerhappy. "See, look how much your fellow Cybertronian loves it!"
Looking at Blast Off for a moment, "Ya! Triggerhappy's laughs is distinctive. There is the Happy Laugh because I am shooting, there is the Happy Laugh because I am shooting two guns, there is the Happy Laugh Because I am shooting Three Guns...." Upon hearing the same laugh that Blast Off did, "There is the I am winning at this game DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE! Laugh...One time we raided this air show, he had I am laughing 'cause I am flying and shooting..."
Misfire pauses, "Wait, that is Triggerhappy!" He points at the booth and looks at his friend! "Oooooooooo! Look Blast Off! That guy says it is fun too." He then leans in towards Blast Off, his voice dropping down to a loud whisper, "I know this isn't your usual scene, but sometimes then you need to unwind, you know...go some place and just get crazy...otherwise, the, uh, you know, the Army stuff will crush your spark..." He then pauses, "Totally loyal!"
He then looks up, "Yes sir! My friend and I would love to play, I'll be player three!" He looks at Blast Off, "You can be Player 2 which is awesome! The best player really...the green one!" He smiles at Blast Off before looking at Triggerhappy knowing that he can't hear him at this point.
Blast Off listens to Misfire ramble on..."You have really spent a lot of time with him, haven't you? ...I feel sorry for you. And yes, ...I know you're loyal, Misfire. Nor would I be a snitch." He looks up at the merchant and rolls his optics. Looks like he's stuck wasting his time with stupid games.... the only saving grace here is that it's a shooting game. Just the kind he does well in. Uh...except that most of these games are rigged so that you never win.... Do they ever sight in these things or make them at all accurate to real life? OF COURSE NOT...... Oh well. He sighs and accepts the "Player 2" "green" position. "My life is now complete..." He says sardonically.
The merchant smiles. "Excellent! That'll be just five shanix per person for the first round! Half off for new customers! Just shoot until you're out of ammo, and then come back for more, only 3 additional shanix for each new load! The round ends when all targets have been eliminated. Then it will be regular price, 10 shanix, for a new round if you wish!" he nods, handing them their passes. The doors to the rotating simulator immediately open.
Of course, Blast Off's right. The holograms are totally rigged so that you'd have to hit them in a certain spot to actually blow them up. Otherwise they will just jump out of the way at the LAST astrosecond and laugh in your face!
Counting on his fingers, "So, ten shanix and then 3 shanix and then 5 shanix and then 10...So that is....like..." He looks over at Blast Off, "Like a 20 percent saving!" He smiles at his friend, "Ya! Vorns from now you will be telling this story!" Misfire reaches over and pays for him and Blast Off. He shouts at Triggerhappy, "HEYA TRIGGERHAPPY!!! MAKE SOME THINGS BLOW UP, YES?!" He looks over at Blast Off, "Triggerhappy is good Cybertronian. Sure, a few wires may be crossed, but isn't that true of all of us?" Misfire smiles at Blast Off, "But Triggerhappy means well, plus he is you know...working on things..." Misfire says with a smile. Looking at his gun, he holds it up. "Yours feel heavy? Wait, is this a Next Gen Model? Oooooooooh!" Misfire looks out as his Player 3 Targets. "Loser has to buy the first round!" Misfire says with a smile as he prepares to play!
Once inside the simulator, there is a hum as the holograms come to life, and game music begins to play. They look rather ridiculous, almost like giant purple petrorabbits with human-like faces. They start rotating around each player, jumping around as if to taunt him.
Triggerhappy is still firing away and laughing like a madmech. Though he pauses when he sees them, grinning. "Heeeyya, Misfire! Fancy seeing you here! Oh, and Blast Off! 'Bout time you spent a few cycles unwinding." he calls out to them. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's see who can blow up more mutated petrorabbits!" And with that he raises the fake weapon and starts blasting away.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
It makes cartoon shooting noises, and a few of the shots strike home on the targets, causing them to flash and explode into showers of hologram-sparks. Most of them just jump out of the way though, and turn to laugh at the shooter. They kind of sound like children.
Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fsbdt0kLedU
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Misfire starts firing, blindly out at the targets missing a whole mess of them, "Heya Trigs! Ya! I talked Blast Off into taking me here." Misfire flashes a smile, pausing which makes his score even worse. "Yeah! I was telling Blast Off he needed to unwind, then I remember you talked this place up! Sounded like fun...plus...mindless violence...Who can say no to that?" He looks at Blast Off, "Having fun?" Misfire asks with a wide smile. Misfire continues to shoot, missing more often than not.
Blast Off sniffs haughtily. "I enjoy unwinding, Triggerhappy. But like a CULTURED mech, not some childish simpleton." He raises an optic ridge and glances out of the corner of his optic at Misfire briefly. The game starts and Blast Off starts firing away at the petrorabbit-like targets. He tries aiming, naturally. *ZAP* "Bah, missed. *ZAP* ..Again. *ZAPZAP* ..And again! See? I told you this stupid game was rigged. What a waste of... *ZAP* HA!IGOTTHAT!!!" He leans in while firing at the game, optics flashing now. *ZAP!ZAP!ZAP!* Misfire asks if he's having fun. "...Huh? Heh. Oh well, I suppose there are WORSE ways I could be spending my time, Misfire..." *ZAPZAPZAP*
"Hahahahahh!" Triggerhappy laughs. "See, I told you you'd like it!" he teases Blast Off. "I mean come on. Everyone has to be a 'childish simpleton' sometimes. Okay maybe except Shockwave." He can't really imagine Shockwave acting this way. He continues shooting wildly. Actually, his random firing seems to actually be quite effective, in this game, anyway.
Finally, the simulator lets out a long BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.
~*~*~Player 1 has eliminated all targets! ~*~*~
~*~*~Congratulations Player 1! You have established a new HIGH SCORE! ~*~*~ The game announces.
And just in time, too! Triggerhappy had run out of ammo. He shouts happily, pumping a fist. "WOOOOOOOOOOOOO! YEAH! Drinks on me, mechs!" he says, stepping down from the gaming platform.
"Are we even sure Shockwave is even alive?" Misfire asks with a smile, "That 'Mech seems waaaaay too high strong." Misfire laughs as the game finishes up. "Free drinks?" Misfire looks at Blast Off, "Free drinks, Blast Off!" Misfire moves towards Triggerhappy, reaching around him, then spreading his other arm around Blast Off, "Are we having fun? OR Are we having fun?" Misfire smiles broadly.
Blast Off could keep being a wet blanket, but decides it takes too much energy. Concerning Triggerhappy's point on Shockwave and behaving "childishly", he responds, "Yes, I suppose that's true. Its'... only logical." (Blast Off makes a wry, understated attempt at humor, and he's not even drunk! ;)) To Misfire, the Combaticon startles very slightly as Misfire gets chummy (Combaticons are not exactly known for that, of course, especially not Blast Off). However, he just nods and continues on. "Yes, it appears we are." He nods to Triggerhappy's offer. "Sounds good to me!"
"Now that's more like it!" Triggerhappy grins and ushers himself and his two friends out of the simulator. "To Party World!" he announces. The pale blue merchant smiles at them as they pass. "Thank you all for playing, I'm glad you enjoyed yourselves. Do come back again!" he calls out, waving as they leave.
The three of them walk in to Party World, which is true to its namesake. There's music, dancing, more games, and best of all--bars! The Targetmaster saunters up to the nearest one and orders a drink, then turns to the other two. "So, what do you mechs want? Just say the word!"
Smiling at Blast Off as he squeezes before letting go of both of them, "Hahaha! Yeah." He looks over at the Carnival operator and waves, "Yeah! We'll be back!" He looks through at Party World, "Aimless???" He asks as his /partner/ is passed out in a corner, shaking his head he just trucks along, metaling noting where his real gun is located. Looking up and down the bar, "You know me, Triggerhappy, anything cheap and strong..." He smiles at Blast Off, "And Blast Off? Soemthing with a garnish?"
Blast Off nods. "That would do, yes." He looks at the noise and hubbub all around them. "So you come here often, then, Triggerhappy?" Blast Off takes the cocktail that is brought to him and starts nursing the drink.
Triggerhappy nods and gets the appropriate drinks ordered and delivered. The bartender is prompt...he knows what they are, and he isn't stupid. Drawing the ire of Decepticons is never a good idea. Especially if you're a squishy organic who isn't larger than they are. Heck, even if you are larger than they are, sometimes.
The Targetmaster shrugs at Blast Off's question. "Not really. Actually don't get a lot of off-duty time. Dunno about you." he says, taking a swig of his drink, then putting down on the bar.
Taking his drink, Misfire smiles between the pair. "I LOVE THIS SONG!" He blurts out before taking a sip of his drink. "Woooooo, that is strong..." He chuckles, "Well...I don't know about y'all but I have more off duty time then the records show. If you know what I mean." Misfire smiles at the pair. "One of the advantages of being on Suicide Squad, no one really keeps tabs on you...Of course the death missions..." Misfire shrugs and sips his drink again. "Those I could do with out..." He looks at the pair..."Say! We should swap stories. Aimless said it is called 'Bonding'. Bros do it to be friends or something. He looks at the pair, "Y'all aren't hoes?" He pauses then laughs. "GOTCHA! IS THAT?!" Misfire look across the dance floor... "Necro---errr Nope Go-Bot..." Misfire sips his drink smiling.
Blast Off doesn't really pay much attention to the bartender, since he's a lowly organic. He leans against the table, one arm resting on it and holding his drink while facing the others. "No." He listens to Misfire. "What is that like, exactly? Suicide squads do not sound like my idea of fun." Then Blast Off decides to elaborate on his "no" answer to Trig. That's swapping "stories, right? "I am quite busy, spending most of my time either on some sort of sniping mission, defense against the Autofools, deep space patrols or, if I'm lucky, a little time to hone my shooting skills at base."
Triggerhappy chuckles fondly at Misfire's enthusiasm for the song. Despite himself, he's found himself really liking--perhaps even caring about him? It's hard to know, when you've never had a feeling like that, before. "Heh." He says in response to Blast Off. "Didn't think so." But he turns to Misfire again. "Might as well! So, let's start with you, then, Misfire. What's your favorite violent, near-death experience? Or...whatever." he smirks.
Peering over at Blast Off, "Eh, it isn't great...but the pay is decent and Spinister is a pretty good boss, never really says anything negative. Plus, since that technically puts me in Mayhem Squad...most 'Mechs don't hassle me. So that is good." He sips his drink as he looks over. "Weeeeellll, I think the best one was the time, Galvatron shot me in the chest." Misfire uses his free hand, to draw a circle around his middle section, the armor plates there don't quite match if you look real closely..." Misfire sips his drink again, "Saw a whole bunch of messed up things as the blast hit me, voices and memories and what not...For a moment, in the shadow on Mars. That is where I got shot...I thought I saw this 'Mech...in the background...never came close, I went and looked it up...I think it might have been the Necrobot...Been looking for him since..." Misfire smiles, "What about y'all?"
Blast Off nods to Misfire, feeling sympathetic, for once. "I... see." Then wants to know his "favorite violent, near-death experience". That is a bit awkward... Blast Off has had an extremely recent "violent, near-death experience" (when Blurr knocked him into unconsiousness while battling for the drone mainfame), but it certainly wasn't a "favorite" and it certainly is nothing he wishes to talk about. Without even thinking about it, he places a hand where the stab wound recently was, then decides to go with something else. "My favorite "favorite violent, near-death experience" is when I shoot an enemy into a million metal pieces with my orbital bombardment attack. Of course, it's from a distance, and there's little left.... so I can hardly describe what my enemy experiences.... but that's not my problem." He takes a sip. "And what about you, Triggerhappy?"
Triggerhappy does a double take. "Wait, wait--you got shot by Galvatron, in the chest?!" he asks incredulously. The description Misfire gave is nowhere near detailed enough. "Now just wait an astrosecond here. Tell me more! Why'd he shoot you, and what voices did you hear? And most importantly, how the frag did you even survive something like that?" He's been shot by Galvatron, in the hand...he lost that hand, but certainly not right through the chest!
He then gives Blast Off a 'duh' look. "I'm not talking about a near-death experience for your enemies, Blasty. I'm sure that's happened plenty of times. I was talking about you. Now come up with a better story."
Tipping his drink at Blast Off, "Ya! We need a better story than that. We are friends here! How about that fight before Aimless and I stole those minerals for you." Misfire sips his drink again, before shaking his head, "Oh, wait...what'd y'all ask?" Misfire frowns, "The voice right, yeah mainly all my instructors at the War College, telling me I was never going to make it....But I did! HA!" Misfire chuckles, "Oh, Thrust and some of us were goofing around on Mars and BLAM! Galvatron took offense or something, gave us a medal and then shot all of us. So, like two or three others absorbed the blast too...But yeah, made a hole right through me, Missed my laser core by inches." Misfire shrugs and sips his drink, "It kinda hurt a lot...How I survived? Lucky I guess? Too stupid to die? Too pretty too..." He smiles at the others, "Admit it, y'all are jealous of this Magenta Paint...It is awesome." Finishing his drink, Misfire orders another one. "Say...did you tell a story Trigs? You owe us a story too!"
Now Triggerhappy demands a near-death story. Sadly, the Combaticon has several...and NONE of them are ones he wants to talk about. There is, of course, the defining moment of Blast Off's current life as he knows it... that little matter of being a member of the Renegade Decepticons, their capture by Megatron, and how Shockwave then took out their personality components, destroyed their bodies, and left them in limbo for several millions years. A limbo that Blast Off wasn't quite unconsious for, either... that eternity... is just not something he cares to discuss. So what can he say? The Combaticon deliberates as he listens to Misfire recant his story again. It never ceases to amaze him that the Targetmaster actually LIVED through that. "Heh, yeah, sure. Your paint job is certainly... unique."
He taps at his glass. "There was one time, long ago... I was out in deep space, exploring and taking a few odd jobs as a mercenary. I was not as... skilled as I am now, and perhaps even a little niave. I ran into a small alien warship consisting of small, squishy-looking organics. Disgusting creatures. I assumed they would be weak and helpless- they certainly looked the part. I was... mistaken. It turned out they had stolen a Cybertonian weapon of great power- which they then used on me. I was....left drifting in space, alone, for several years before anyone found me." He takes another sip. "So- tell us *your* story, Triggerhappy."
Triggerhappy grins and slaps Misfire on the back. "Hah, that sounds like the Misfire I know." It also sounds just like Galvatron, to give medals, and then shoot them. He downs the rest of his drink and orders a refill, then starts working on that as Blast Off tells his story.
"Heh, yeah...those pathetic little squishies are more than meets the optic sometimes. If what they did to Charr is any indication, anyway." He says, recalling the attack on the Charr fortress. And then it's his turn.
"Alright, alright. You mechs wanna know how I got my rank?" he begins, putting his drink down on the bar and turning toward the other two Decepticons. "I mean, it was probably a combination of things, but the main one..." he pauses momentarily before continuing. "Dunno if you were around for this, Blast Off, but Misfire do you remember when that terrorist Compton Xabat took over the EDC without the humans even realizing it was him? And he started getting the humans all riled up against Cybertronians, and even the Autobots were having trouble keeping up their alliance with 'em?"
Peering at Blast Off, Misfire smiles a sad smile for his friend, "Woah, left in space like that...That must have been..." Misfire shakes his head and takes a large sip, patting Blast Off on the shoulder, "But you survived! And You still go back into space! You are a Brave Mech!" Misfire offers with a genuine smile. "Best part, never have to be alone again..."
As Triggerhappy slaps Misfire on the back, Misfire lets out a chuckle. "I like being consistent." He shakes his heads, "Organics are damn tricky...." Frowning as he looks at Triggerhappy and nods, "Yeah, I remember that guy. Real messy business on Earth..." He frowns for the first time, "Didn't they experiment on a bunch of us......." Misfire voice trails off as he stares into his drink, unsure what to say next...a first.
Blast Off finds himself oddly touched by Misfire's comments to him, but simply nods quietly. "No, I wasn't here for that." He listens to the others. "Experiment on us?," he grumbles. Seeing how morose Misfire suddenly looks, he orders a drink for him, and for Triggerhappy too. "Alright, tell us the rest, Triggerhappy."
Triggerhappy nods at Misfire's recollection. "Exactly." he says, again picking up his drink and taking a swig, then putting down on the bar counter again. "Anyway, the alliance between the Autobots and the EDC was getting real strained. We all know Xabat even had plans to destroy Cybertron. He thought of our race as a scourge on the galaxy--everyone would be much better off if we were gone. The Autobots were just pawns in his grand plan to wipe us all out. And he was good at getting the rest of the humans on his side, too. Did everything he could to make any Cybertronian look like mindless, non-sapient monsters that did nothing but destroy everything in our path. So, we decided to strike back at him in the same way. We'd show the rest of the galaxy, including the Autobots, what a cruel man he was, and prove to them that we were in fact sapient."
"We figured he'd jump at the chance to get his hands on a live capture. Try to pry important intel out of whoever it was, by using whatever torture tactics he might have in store. Heh." He smirks a little. "Guess who volunteered for that mission?" He jabs a thumb at his own chassis. "Oh, and Laserbeak, but his job was easy."
Staring off at Triggerhappy, Misfire's features softly softly, "Triggerhappy, I told you that you shouldn't volunteer for those type of missions...I..." Misfire sips his drink and looks away, "It ain't good for you...You need to not put your processor under that kinda of stress, I, you, and....you know...take care of yourself..." He looks at Blast Off giving his other friend a pained look then back at Triggerhappy, very very softly, Misfire asks, "How bad was it?" He quickly sips his drink again.
Blast Off listens as Triggerhappy recalls his past dealings with Xabat. He shakes his head. Yes, Triggerhappy does indeed have some wires crossed, like Misfire said. "I cannot imagine even PRETENDING like I was at the mercy of some revolting organic. However, you had a plan, obviously... so I assume you got the last laugh?" He tips a glass to Misfire, then sips again.
"Misfire, I--" Triggerhappy watches Misfire, looking...concerned. Why doesn't he like seeing his comrade like that? He fidgets nervously, glancing away for a moment and then back again before rubbing the back of his neck. He's...never felt this way about anyone else before. Finally he regains his composure, and continues the tale.
"Anyway, yeah. I guess I did have the last laugh. It was..." Even Triggerhappy has trouble talking about it, and he's usually the one who has no qualms about gruesome experiences. "Well, first of all, he had this device that was using to try to shock me into submission, and then try to extract information from my memory banks. I think the point was...was to use the pain to tear down my willpower and ability to resist the probe. I don't even remember exactly how many times he electrocuted me, maybe 3 times? More than twice."
FLASHBACK
Franklin Cross turns towards Blue Jays, giving her a fierce glare. "*What?*" he snaps. He points at Talia. "Get your VTOL ready, something might be up." Then he looks at Triggerhappy. Hm. Science, or security? Science, security? Which one will win out? "...no, this is our only example of a Targetmaster specimen." Science wins! Cross scowls at the screen. "Finally... getting something..." He frowns. Shockwave seems to be discussing a plot to embarass the EDC? How?
"Load up a new keyword," Cross tells McPatterson. This time, it's 'Blowpipe.' And just keep repeating it! I knew something was wrong about his partner not being with him! And quadruple the amperage again!"
"Quadruple *again?*" McPatterson stammers.
"DO IT!" Cross screams. And it is done. There is a terrible noise as the voltage arcs across Triggerhappy's frame, wracking his body with the pain of thousands of volts...
BACK TO THE PRESENT
Triggerhappy shakes the memories off as best he can. "Anyway, Laserbeak recorded the whole thing and used the footage against them. Oh, and I was rigged with explosives, so I had Blowpipe separate them from my body and set them off. In the end, mission accomplished. Never was quite the same after that, though." he shakes his head. "Heh, I used to be a total lunatic." Wait, he's saying that now? The slag was he like before?
Listening to Triggerhappy's tale, Misfire chokes back his drinking, masking a soft...sob? Quickly he orders another as Triggerhappy continues his tale, quickly Misfire finishes this drink as Triggerhappy explains about the electrocution. "Primus...." Misfire mumbles as he orders test another Drink. Looking over at Triggerhappy, "You aren't a lunatic...just...a little different...Just, you know, feel things differently...process thingsssss, special ilke...." Misfire says his words softly, his optics dimming and flicker. "But you are here and with us, Trigs...that is..." Misfire stops himself as he downs his drink, after a moment his optics shut off then cut back on..."Yooooze guuuuyyyyssss arrrrreeee thhhhhheeeeee Bbbbbeeestttt....Frrriiiiendssssss....." Misfire slurs his words and looks at the others confused. "Iiiii...Looooooovvvvv...." Misfire's voice cracks as static emits and then his systems cycle back down...as Misfire crashes and hits the top of the bar with a thud. The Targetmaster seems to be in some kind of forced sleep cycle...Overcharged...
Blast Off listens to Triggerhappy and finds himself wincing a bit, in spite of himself. "It was a clever plan. I suppose I am pleased at the results... but I can't say how you got there sounded pleasing at all...." He's not quite sure WHAT to think about the "lunatic" remark.... Then Misfire sort of...crashes... well, Blast Off isn't sure what to think about that whole thing, either. This whole "friend" business is still rather new to him, and Blast Off is extremely reserved that way. He simply blinks and takes another sip, poking Misfire... but the mech is out cold. "I...hope he is Ok. Should we... do something?" He asks Triggerhappy, looking mildly puzzled. Then he tilts his head slightly, studying the other 'Con. "...And what about you? Are you "okay"?"
Triggerhappy stares at Misfire. Did...did he just...was that a sob? Now, typically he'd look upon something like that with disdain, but this is different, somehow. "..." He doesn't say anything for a long time, as if frozen or something. "I--really?" The Targetmaster says finally. He really didn't think of him as a lunatic? He'd meant that he wasn't as much of a lunatic as before, of course, but he knew he still was compared to most, at least.
Then he finally seems to regain his composure a bit, though he still looks somewhat stunned. "He'll be all right, he's just...overcharged." He doesn't respond to Blast Off's question about his own well-being, instead, he gets up off the barstool he'd been sitting on. "Anyway--thanks for a good time. I uh...gotta get back..." Before the Combaticon can even respond, he walks out of Party World and heads back to Monacus Spaceport.
Blast Off nods as Triggerhappy walks off. The other 'Con is something of a mystery to Blast Off- he just doesn't get him, and ...might never. But he did make good company tonight, and was a good friend. The Combaticon continues to sit at the bar with a really overcharged Misfire. He will wait here until Misfire wakes up and they can return to space. And for once... the Combaticon is not alone.