randomplaces | Nexus. Blue's Bar. There and Back Again cont'd

"Slaggit. . . . Any chance of convincing her against this?" And have her do what to let her anger out he didn't know . . .

~~Bad Arcee, bad!~~

"Not that I know of. She's not afraid to take on the bouncer." Keg looks at him. "This is really a bad idea, huh?"

Arcee, meanwhile, manages to only growl at the steward as she accepts her number. She then walks over to her place on the track and turns her back abruptly on the friendly greeting of an old 'Bot of tech similar to Random's.

"I've got a bad feeling about this . . . but I hope this is just me being overly pessimistic," he didn't sound like he really believed that last part.

//Arcee . . . what do you think you're accomplishing by doing this?//

"I'm busy!" *click* The femme shot him a look, and then slapped her number on her windshield and transformed.

What the slag was he supposed to do?

"I could tackle her," murmurs Keg. "But then she'd be banned from the track."

"I'd say, 'do it,' but I'm not sure if I'm overreacting. She definitely wouldn't like being banned. . . . Anyway I can say to get her to come and attempt to give me a piece of her mind?"

"She really likes coming here. She's proud of her wins, for as long as she can remember them. And... she gets really focused during a race, so I don't know."

" . . . Great," comes the sarcastic mutter.

"Hey." Keg blinks. "That yellow guy quit."

"Are you two Arcee's pit crew?" A human female in her mid-teens pauses to frown up at them.

"Huh? . . . Now why the slag would someone like him want to do that?"

The human shows up before he can finish processing the previous information and deciding what to do with it. "Uh . . ." He looks at Keg.

"Yeah, we are. And we're going already, so don't start." Keg scowls down at her, then turns and heads toward a walkway next to the track, keeping his scanners fixed on Arcee and everything that's going on around them.

"Cranky rust bucket!" retorts the girl, then turns away with a sniff.

"Dunno," says Keg, ignoring her and returning to the previous conversation. "Maybe Arcee scared him off. She was pretty rough with what she said to him."

Random follows close behind, not exactly liking this turn of events but feeling it might be for the best.

"Nah, I know his type. He'd use it as motivation to win."

"... He's one of those guys you and Arcee were dissing back at the bar, isn't he?" Keg watches as Arcee transforms a door into an arm and makes a rude gesture in return for some trash talk put out by the hairy guy in the jeep.

"No, those were optimists. . . . That guy seemed more like optimist with too much overconfidence thrown in . . ."

"Oh. Like this guy Blue pours drinks on every time he comes in." Keg looks around as he reaches the pit, then starts examining the tools and spare tires.

There's a shout and a revving of engines from the track, and then the starter's pistol fires and the field is off.

"Yep, sounds like it." He too starts examining the pit's various items, figuring out whether he recognizes everyting. "You done pit before?"

Hmm. Too late to get her off the track now . . . He tries not to think about it.

"Yeah. On little five lap races like this there isn't much need for it." Keg decides he's satisfied with everything here and straightens to lean on the top of the protective barrier and watch the race. Which Arcee is leading.

"That's reassuring," despite how relieved he should be, he sounds sarcastic. He frowns a bit as well as he leaves the tools alone and watches the race.

A couple of the competitors actually give the pink Porsche a run for her money, but it's very clear that this isn't a professional race. Keg nearly leaps over the wall as one of the other racers wipes out and hits the wall across the way from them, but restrains himself as he sees others of the being's own species rushing to her assistance.

Definitely not NASCAR--or what he's seen of NASCAR anyway. Reminds him a bit more of street races that used to go on before the war affected everything.

Keg's a good kid, he's convinced further though he doesn't acknowledge the crash with more than shuttering his optics in sympathy for a moment. Keg reminds him of a good friend of his . . .

The third, forth, and fifth laps pass with no more incident than the other Transformer backfiring and laughing about it as he passes the pit. Keg just shakes his head and does another sweep of the stands, then turns back to watch as Arcee crosses the finish line first.

His frown remains on his face throughout the race and even after it ends like one of those poker faces professional and college sport coaches are especially known to have, leaving it difficult for one to know what he's thinking.

Arcee's temper has cooled during the race, and she's now in a bit of a thoughtful fugue as she stops and transforms, turning a disinterested shoulder toward old Fender's attempts to flirt. Her faceplate is blank as she turns to watch Keg stride up and as she accepts his pat on the shoulder of congratulation.

He's still facing and gazing over the emptying track, leaning on the safety wall where he'd ended up at some point either before or during the race. Without even turning his head, he takes a glance at her out of his optics before shuttering them and bowing his head towards the ground in what appears like either meditation or a prayer. Considering he doesn't mention religion much, it's more likely the former than the latter.

Nexus. Blue's Bar. There and Back Again cont'd

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