Noping right off Cybertron

[vandalization]

Who: Wing, Drift and Sweary McCurseface
What: Close encounters of the NOPE kind.
Where: Vandal's House of Nope.
When: Shortly after Wing's creeper post.
Warnings: Vandallllllllll.



"Okay, we're going. We gotta go. Come on, Drift. You can't walk with your feet still all fucked up like that. You gotta get on my back, but we need to go now."

Yep. Definitely wanting to get the fuck out of dodge right now. Preferably before Wing gets there. Her only saving grace is that he can't fly right now at least, but she's not really too keen on letting her guard down. They're going to Solus temple, damn it. She was all suited up and ready to go.

And plenty nervous to boot. She really isn't sure what's wrong with Wing, but she doesn't want to find out first hand, alone.

Comments

[winged_knight]

"Were you!?" He snaps at Vandal before recovering himself. "Running off in the middle of the night hardly seems wise. And nothing's wrong Vandal, in fact it's so very right now."

Wing's red optics track Drift as the girl moves away, noticing the halting movements. Injured? He stabs an accusing look at Vandal. Before he can speak again, the petals catch the light and distract him, and for a small moment he realizes that some other him, the old him, would have been delighted by the slowly falling bits of pink: serenity manifest?

He pushes the thought away with a strong wave of his hand, the motion making petals swirl about erratically as he looks back at Drift.

"She wouldn't be so frightened if she'd just stayed put. Seems she's a touch flighty. Weak of heart?" His voice grows soft, like silt shifting into the cracks. "Too many demons haunting you Vandal? I think I'm the least of your worries."

[vandalization]

Oh. Well that struck straight to the heart. And the looks he's giving her don't help. Even if it's not him- still. Coming from someone who sounds like Wing and looks like Drift...

She opens her mouth to protest, and finds her voice fails her. Hands drop to her side and she just. Frowns. Looks at the dirty under her feet.

"What do you want?"

[sword_redemption]

"Karrie. Don't listen to him." Wing had always had a gift with words, normally to uplift and enlighten. The same gift here, but turned malignant and cutting.

He rounds on Wing, forgetting for a moment that he's a quarter Wing's size. "She's not weak. If anything, you're weak, because the both of us together barely weigh as much as your hand and you're skulking out there, afraid to make your move."

[winged_knight]

He can't hide the way his lips twitch knowing his words strike home.

"I just want what I'm due."

Wing's attention snaps back to Drift, the unexpected vehemence actually making him recoil in shock. That swiftly morphs into a growl as he bristles in outrage.

"How dare you!" He surges forward, clenched fists opening into taut fingered claws, until his foot breaks the plane of the light. He lurches back with another growl of frustration, recovering his balance but not his composure.

For all that Wing is gentle and patient, this mech is not.

Wing's optics flicker briefly to the exposed bulb of the porchlight. With a frustrated hiss through his vents he circles in the shadow, pacing angrily, his optics ranging nearby junk for an adequate missile.

[vandalization]

She's about to tell Drift not to provoke him, but it's too late. She startles when Wing makes as though he's going to attack them... but he stops.

Why did he stop?

She narrows her eyes.

"What's the matter? Don't you want to come over here and get us?"

She casts a glance at Drift, a warning not to get too close.

"What's stopping you...?"

[sword_redemption]

You can't ever entirely erase Deadlock, Vandal. At least he's turning it to protecting others.

"What? What do you think you're due, Wing?" It's half a provocation, half a question. Part of him is still trying to find Wing in there, under this.

He sways back and forth, a way to keep his center of gravity moving, ready to jump in any direction, and hopefully, hopefully, catching Wing's optic.

[winged_knight]

Wing has no answer for Vandal that won't compromise his weakness and he's too agitated to produce a believable lie. He ignores her as he paces, optics searching the junk, desperate to neutralize that light. He growls under his breath. _{"Fragging idiotic anti-firearm honor code slag..."}

His head snaps around at Drift's words. Wing's eyes narrow and he grins a feral grin. "You said you owed me... didn't you?"

[vandalization]

Well. This is weird. Scary. Awkward. And she can't really believe that she's hiding behind a little girl, but you know.

That girl is still Drift.

She's not really ever around the, both at the same time, and even like this, with this rift, she feels like she's intruding in something. So she'll just stand there, frozen, trying to figure out why he hasn't tried to attack them yet...

[sword_redemption]

Because he might be shoved in a tiny body, but he's still the mech who would give his life to protect something he cares about.

Drift is only concentrating on Wing. He notices that the other doesn't approach, but he can't figure why. His concern is buying time, getting his attention. "_{You can get inside the trailer, Vanda}," he whispers. "Safer there."

He steadies himself with a breath, one small step closer to Wing. "Yes. I owe you. Everything." His voice asks, 'what do you need?'

[winged_knight]

Wing gives up on his search, realizing line of sight would prove a problem anyway, and prowls the edge of the darkness like a thing caged. "_{...power source.....maybe a generator somewhere...}" He grumbles under his breath, optics casting about the trailer and its surroundings.

He realized if need be, he could just circle around the back and flip the whole trailer from it's dark side... Tempting, but subtly would win him less trouble later and it wasn't necessary to get extreme yet. He narrows his optics at the whispering which he can't hear over the growl of his own engine, then Drift's movement grabs his full attention.

Perhaps a different approach.

He smiles, but it's forced around his anger. He crouches, careful to stay cloaked in shadow. "Come to me." His tone demands, 'What do you need with her?'

[vandalization]

"There's no way I'm leaving you." Honestly, even when Drift is like this, she still feels safer. And she won't abandon him.

She does watch Wing, warily. Watches him circle. Pace. Searching.

"Drift..." She hunches down, whispering "Drift, I think you should go to him..."

Why? Because she reaches onto her RIG belt and pulls out her cutter, discretely taking his hand behind her back and wrapping his fingers around it, showing him where the flashlight button is.

"You get me? Right directly on him."

Get him where he least expects it. The trigger isn't far, so if he needs to... but if she's banking on her suspicions...

[sword_redemption]

Drift turns over in his mind what he can hear Wing murmuring. Was Wing underpowered? Did he need a generator? Did that explain why he was hiding in the shadows? No that made no sense.

He nods, feeling the weight of the device placed in his hand, the small fingers curling around it automatically. A weapon, of some sort? "All right." To both of them, to himself.

"I need to protect her, Wing," he said, stepping closer, the device hidden in the long, drooping sleeve of his sweater. "You know that." He hopes Vandal does, too.

"I'm here," he paused, just at the line between light and shadow, the blue human eyes dilating to adjust to the darkness. "For you." His thumb is ready on the switch.

[winged_knight]

It's lucky for Vandal that Wing misses all but the last of her actions, though when he finally turns to regard her it's with wary suspicion. She might still prove to be a problem, but as long as Drift was compliant and she didn't interfere then things would move along without issue.

A slow smile spreads over his face as Drift moves forward.  It was a bit of a marvel, the steadfast way Drift stood by those he cared about. It was an advantageous trait Wing had every intention of exploiting.

Still crouhed, his helm tilts slightly as he regards Drift, "I don't see why we can't all be together." Then he reaches out, slowly, as if to touch the silken strands of hair on Drift's head. 

[vandalization]

She really doesn't want to. Let that happen. But Drift, even like this, is competent and can take care of himself. And if she has to, she still has a line gun in her inventory.

God he's creepy like this...

She almost starts after him when he touches Drift, but she'll wait. Leave it to him for now.

[sword_redemption]

Drift stands still as the hand approaches, the device buried in his sleeve. He's not sure of the range, so he waits. He really doesn't want to hurt Wing, he doesn't want it on his conscience. Because this is maybe not Wing, and maybe Wing wouldn't remember, but Drift would.

"You can't see why, right now, Wing. We're worried about you."

If Wing aggresses toward Vandal, Drift won't hesitate to attack, himself.

[winged_knight]

A black fingertip brushes some of the silver locks away from the side of Drift's face. She's pretty, he supposes, as humans go.

Wing grunts, huffy and dismissive. "There's nothing to worry about. It's better this way. You'll just have to get used to it." And then a leering grin. "Don't worry, you will."

It seems most reasonable at the this point to transform and drive them somewhere safe, to a controlled environment...assuming they both could be trusted. He had little worry regarding Drift, though he supposed if he had weaknesses we was unaware of in this frame that was the one person who could best exploit them.

Vandal though...he did not trust. She was acting strange, and almost aggressive, panicy. Who knew what she'd do? Perhaps it'd be better is she made the trip while unconscious. He cast his gaze that way, optics narrowing dangerously as his hands twitched. He rocked back on his heels, the hydraulics and actuators in his legs hissing in preparation...

[vandalization]

She almost relaxes. Well at least he hadn't just attacked him. At least there was that. Maybe he can be reasoned with.

Just as soon as she's thought it, she jerks at the sudden movement, taking a step back out of instinct.

Oh no.

[sword_redemption]

It takes everything Drift has not to flinch at the touch. He's more aware than anyone here the power in that hand: it's his, after all.

"I really don't want to stay like this, Wing. Nor do you. You know that."

But then Wing turns to Vandal. He recognizes this, too, the bunch and coil of actuators, preparing to fire, to launch himself at Vandal.

No. NO.

He whips the device out, pressing the button. Vandal had said 'right directly on him', so he swings it, aiming right at Wing's face, his own face a contorted mess of panic and fear: he doesn't want to hurt Wing. It's killing him to. But he can't let Vandal get hurt.

[winged_knight]

Wing's expression twitches at Drift's words, but it changes to predatory alertness at the girl's sudden movement and then shock when the button is pressed. The flashlight comes on, striking him full in the face.

He'd have prefer it'd been a weapon, the flashlight a far more effective neutralizer.

He both lunges back and lashes out instinctively, but the abrupt change of direction fouls his balance and his swing goes high, flailing uselessly over Drift's head. He cries out, and ugly, angry sound, the light like a seering pain burning away wickedness. The cry goes from pain to horror as the light exposure reverts him, the cling of darkness leaving his frame and red of his optics fleeing as if in fear with an almost audible snap.

Balance broken he falls back, his other arm flung back to break his fall, the round halo of the flashlight centered on his chin and upper chassis. Clear blue optics blink above it, wide and startled, bordering on terrified, as memories of the past few days begin spooling in his processor.

Wing vents hard, fighting off panic from some unknown source, his vocalizer pitch tinny and high. "Wha...^where...?

[vandalization]

Wow.

It worked.

It actually worked. She was right for once. Vandal has a brief instant where she feels incredibly smart.

"Wing! Quickly! Get in the light! In here! Drift- keep that beam aimed at him."

[sword_redemption]

Drift's hands are shaking, both of them squeezing at the device, to keep in focused on Wing's face. He's nearly crying again--frag, he really hates that part of human teenaged girl-ness--because Wing....is in pain.

"_{I'm sorry i'm sorry}" he's stammering, wincing at the sharp cry, stepping closer. If Vandal wants Wing in the light, Drift can aim him that way. He hopes. "Vandal. He's in pain..."

[winged_knight]

It comes back, faster and harder this time. Like the recollection of a memory purge only he knows now it's not. It feels like days worth, and some of it vivid, but all of it a rushing deluge in an already alarm filled processor. He throws his head forward, clutching his helm, his whole frame shaking as he endures the memory dump. There's a keening whine in the distance...and he realizes it's him. But there's other voices too. Familiar ones...

He forces his eyes open, optics irising down until he can see past the flashlight's beam. Recognition strikes him but so does comprehension, a choking sound of both horror and relief.

The light. 

He'd feared it, because it banished him.

Wing surges forward, a desperate leap for safety, for himself and for others, launching clear over both humans and into the halo of the trailer's porch light. He has enough presence of mind--instincts honed from centuries of training--to tuck his head and shoulder into a roll, but not enough to end on his feet. He lands prone, graceless, but it matters little as long as he's reached sanctuary.

[vandalization]

"Fuck-" Well. It worked. It worked-ish... at least. He's in the light and he seems to be back to... well. Normalish. As normal as things can get right now. She runs over, starting to look him over for any possible injuries he could have sustained just now.

"Drift, you okay?" She calls over to him, worried about both of them at once.

"This is so fucked up... Wing. Talk to me. What the hell is going on?"

[sword_redemption]

"Don't worry about me!"

Frag his injured feet: Drift runs as fast as the small, stupid things could carry him, over to where Wing is lying. In his body. He...can't even process this, still.

He grabs onto a piece of armor, by Wing's shoulder, torn between petting it for sympathy and tugging at it. "Wing? Wing? Please tell me you're all right."

[winged_knight]

The landing is jarring, but it helps bring him back to the physical world, along with the sounds of concern from at least one familiar female voice. He feels the touch of small warm hands on his shoulder armor and his helm turns that way. He knows her now, it's Drift. And it doesn't matter what the package looks like, only that he should be extra careful as he rolls slowly onto this side, an arm reaching for Vandal and then curling around the place Drift stands, burying his face against the ground next to him.

"It's me, I'm here. ^{I--I'm sorry}...!"