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

Arcee's busy closing her datapad down and putting it into a small lockbox, which she gets up and brings behind the bar. This done, she glances around, and then nods to the suddenly alert Keg before giving a quick glance toward Random to see what he's up to.

Then she pauses to snark dryly at a comment from Pink.

Random's about done with his Sunrise and looks like he's about to get up from his chair, but he glances over in the direction of movie!Blackout's 'gang' as if considering if anyone there would bother him if he tried to confront Arcee over by the bar.

They all seem pretty intent on the pink femme's grouch-fest toward the perky and undaunted Minicon. Hormah is chortling to herself softly as she watches.

And here comes Blue to break it up.

Hmm. He settles back down again. It might be better to wait for Blue to finish breaking it up . . .

Arcee snarks at her friend just as sharply as she'd been snarking at the little Minicon, then turns on her heel and stalks out from behind the bar with her optics blazing as she ignores Blackout's amused rumbling.

"Arcee?" Keg comes to meet her. "Are we going going now?"

"Shut the slag up and let me think!"

"..." This is a whipped puppy look, it is.

Hmm. She was being more cranky then Gears and he could get pretty cranky. Kinda reminded him of himself on somedays . . .

He hesitates, giving the ceiling look as if saying, "do I really want to do this?" and then gets up from the table and walks in Arcee's direction.

The pink and white femme seems more intent on producing a low-voiced stream of vituperation than on thinking. Figuratively, the air around her is as blue as she is pink.

Keg looks around at Random's approach. //Watch out, she in a mood.//

//Thanks. I can see that.// he comms Keg when he's pretty close.

"Hello, Arcee. Has anything gone right in your life recently?" he asks when he's within the appropriate conversation distance.

She pauses and shoots him a look that could cut steel. "The AV field prevents me from giving that question the answer it deserves."

The look doesn't appear to have fazed him. "Well, I tried to start out positive. Why do optimistic people think that kinda slag works?"

Her answer is dry, cutting, highly uncomplimentary to optimistic people, and unprintable.

"Well, thank you, you've just insulted my best friend." Again, not too fazed. "How does one best convince them of the errors of their ways?"

She glowers toward where the cute little Minicon is sitting on the bar and going ^_^ up at Blackout. "Try pumping their processor full of slag and then letting them learn they're not what they thought they were."

"Don't think that'll work. They've got a 'I can only see things as good' scope of life."

Arcee growls and puts out more unprintable content, then continues toward the door. "Whatever. I have a race to run."

"You probably shouldn't do that when you're this ticked off, Arcee. 'Road rage' impairs thinking and causes errors that normally wouldn't happen. . . . . At least tell me what's bothering you the most?"

She snorts and continues. "Let's see, it could be the losing my slagging mind. Or it could be... losing my slagging mind!"

Keg frowns and follows her, glancing at Random as though to say, 'come with?'

He sighs. Why couldn't getting over issues ever be easy as saying 'Get over it?' She's really ticked off right now.

He nods reluctantly to Keg's unspoken question and follows. He's not a slaggin' medic but he'll go.

The elderly femme's still cursing under her breath and has barely cleared the door when she switches to the sleek little Porsche Boxster and squeals away from the bar in the direction of the Nexus tracks. Keg transforms to a chunky hover truck and shoots after her, staying at a safe distance behind her.

Edited 2008-12-05 04:32 (UTC)

Chest flips up to form the hood as the head ducks under the rising windshield and top, the arms fold underneath, the feet pop into the legs, the knees bend down, the doors attached to the arms slide down while the doors attached to the legs slide up, and the doors lock into place as the tall mech compresses himself down into his alternate mode. Only taking mere moments to complete this transformation into the four-door '90 Chevrolet Lumina sedan, Random drives after Keg.

There are a few incidents involving the buzzing of large pedestrians and much sulfurous language, but Arcee finally drives through the tunnel leading into a neat oval track surrounded by stands and pauses to watch the race in progress. It involves humans in cars of identical make, and she's got comments to make about them too. But despite her mood she has nothing to say as Keg accidentally bumps her in the process of transforming.

The young bouncer apologizes, and then leans against the wall behind her, his optics and scanners busy on their surroundings.

Random remains in alt mode. He can think without giving away his thoughts in this mode, and he has a lot of thinking to do.

Arcee's grumbling is interrupted by a startled horn toot as the announcer's voice booms out, ordering the contestants for race 4 to check in with the race steward.

"Slagging glitch brained...." She drives forward, and then transforms as she approaches the desk, where other beings are also gathering in a fairly neat line. Several of these beings give the pink and white femme a knowing look and keep a distance from her, but one distinctive young yellow Autobot pipes up cheerfully and is swiftly and mercilessly dressed down for the affront.

Poor Hotshot.

He remains in his alt mode for a moment before transforming and walking over to Keg. "Does she drive mad often?" He sounds surprisingly calm.

"Not this mad," says the younger mech soberly. "She's really fragged off today."

~~Look at that, Arcee, you've got the kid talking like you now :p~~

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

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