thisavrou_log | I want it all and I want it right now

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transformers mtmte: riptide

I want it all and I want it right now

Who:The idiot robots brigade of the Moira and their rescuers.
When: During the kidnapping adventure
Where:One very large compound owned by a very rich jerk.
What: So it turns out, this guy likes Robots. ~~And so it was easier to do their drama like this than try and make a mess all over the event log.~~
Warnings:Same as the event log. Talks of all sorts of things like murder, forced captivity, sex things, really really bad attempts at understanding organic sexual practices. All sorts of things.

To no one's great surprise, the Cybertronian's ended up in trouble. One very particular buyer, a one Mr. Yaj O'nel, saw the collective on the markets and snatched them all up one after another until both Decepticons and Autobots were housed under his roof with various other mechanisms and slaves.

He was the sort to have all sorts of transports in his garages and so the possibility of living ones was obviously....quiet attractive. Mostly to deal with their very large sizes, they were shoved into a similar area, and they were all forced to deal with each other, much to the distain of all involved, though they were all much less fond of their captor and his various helpers, for once having something of a common enemy.

Due to his particular likes and dislikes, both flyers had been assigned to other tasks, one to sport and one to basic labor while the two grounders and the boat were assigned to more questionable pursuits. Of course, they were quite confused about the nature of such things because organics are gross and do gross things and really all of their knowledge came from a strange mash up of nature documentaries and twentieth century daytime TV, neither being particularly effective at explaining.

Eventually, at least, someone was probably going to be able to follow the lead to where the bots were to come and get them, but until then...Well.

They're just going to have to wait it out.

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A
[ Whirl is pretty much aggressive from day one of being held, though it's almost manic at first. He seems to find a lot of fun in the fact that he gets to go let loose and will gladly lord it over everyone else. He gets to leave. He gets to fight. He gets his inhibitors turned off to go raise hell. They fix him when he gets back to the fights to some degree, so he's just fine. He's fine. Of course he's fine. He's not worried about the fact that they put the inhibitors on in the first place. Why would he be. It's not like they make him itch by being anywhere near him and it's not like the idea of anything getting up under his plating doesn't make his tanks twist.

He's- it's- he's...Fine.

Until he comes back looking less than happy about it, with scorched plating and quieter than usual.

He hasn't slept this whole time, but it suddenly becomes very obvious when he's mostly just angry and glaring at walls until someone tries to talk to him. He remains awake and angry the rest of the time. ]

B

[ Of course, at least one of the days, Whirl comes back less than put together. He's tossed back in with a wing bent at a terribly awkward angle and clearly spitting mad, ready to launch back through the bars. It takes him a while to calm back down enough to be talked to, though it's clear that a lot of it is that he is in a lot of pain. His left wing is literally bent at almost ninety degrees and from the sound of things they'd tossed him in without fixing it to prove a point. Whirl shouts obscenities at them until they leave and then sits himself down to try and get some kind of grip on it to try and pull it back into place. ]

...Okay. One of you slagheaps, bend it back or rip it off I don't care. Just fix it.

[While Whirl hasn't been sleeping, its all that Tarn has been doing. Too low on energy, he's trying to make what he has left count.

Tarn's optics flash online as he hears Whirl being locked back in a cell across from him. Tarn has come to expect useless yelling and angry chatter by now, but Whirl is nothing but silent. It's off-putting.]

Glaring at the wall isn't going to change anything.

[Tarn pulls himself up to sit against the back of his cell, crossing his arms over he knees. His plating is clean and neatly polished in comparison to Whirls's scorched frame.]

[Whirl makes a strange sort of grinding sound in his vocalizer that would likely be a growl in anyone else, his optic narrowing and shoulders hunched.]

Why don't you go jump in a smelter 'Conface. I'll do what I wanna do.

[He's changed his direction of glaring from the wall to Tarn, and he seems to be perfectly alright with this fact, because frag this asshole]]

Of course you will. But, you should focus that energy into something productive. You've been fortunate enough to leave this forsaken compound for your battles. Have you any intel from the outside?

[Tarn has never been known for being particularly sympathetic, and this isn't any different. There are more important things to be concerned about than Whirls feelings.]

Take your intel and shove it up your intake.

[Whirl is not feeling willing to play friends with a con, but after a moment he rolls his entire helm, and his optic widens and narrows as if Whirl isn't exactly sure what he wants to settle on. ]

What the truth?

Not just us. I've seen others from the ship in the murderpits. But, all the Cybertronians I've seen all are here.

[His helm tilts.]

Got anything productive done while you're out there getting your aft detailed?

[rolling his optics, Tarn remains slumped in the corner of his cell. He's too tired and hungry to get haughty.]

I haven't been allowed out except for detailing--- his fragger has kept a tight leash on me. But, you're correct, I haven't seen a single organic species other than the slavedriver and his cohorts since he arrived. This could prove to be an ominous sign.

In the pits they got all sorts but I haven't seen anything like this scrapheap there. A couple of them that look like him were betting I think but none of them were in there with me.

[A beat.]

Wish they would've been I would've taken their arms off and beaten them with them. You know. To 'get my anger out' or some slag.

[Whirl does attempt air quotes. They are terrible air quotes.]

[ As a contrast, Rodimus is looking quite shiny. Then again three of them were kept quite clean and glistening, but the hod rod was sporting a shiny new gloss that would have been blinding if his biolights had enough energy to glow at full capacity.

He doesn't even try saying anything to Whirl when he's tossed back in though, content to lay on the floor in misery until the copter breaks the silence himself. He pushes himself up, irritable about being disturbed, then grunts. ]

You want me to try?

[The irritating part is that he literally cannot get a grip on it. There is no way to get around his cockpit to catch it with a claw, and short of running into walls he doesn't have an answer and he's pretty sure that no matter what he does it's going to continue hurting he just wants it to stop being such an immediate hurt. They get ripped off all the time. It's nothing. Bent like this be can't stop thinking about it and it's the literal worst. Whirl gives Rodimus a look that probably could kill some lesser life forms but isn't particularly intimidating when Whirl just seems ready to tear off his own wing to stop the feedback.]

Fix it. Fix it. Fix it. Rip it off, bend it back. Don't care.

[But Whirl actually does move closer which is as much of a please as the Captain is going to get any time soon.]

[ Rodimus isn't exactly an expert on fixing wings, but every Autobot knows a thing or two about helping a brother out in the battlefield. Wounds were far more common than medics and all, and desperate times usually meant self care or just asking someone else to push your jaw back in place.

Eventually, he drags himself to his feet and hobbles the rest of the way over to the flailing copter. ]

Looks pretty busted. You fall on it weird? [ Well, if he pulls it off Whirl probably won't be able to fly. He plants one pronged foot on Whirl's back as he gets a grip on it. ]

You try flying out of here yet?

Organic bent it. Put some new holes in him but they gave the fleshbag a headstart. He used it to do this. [He gestures vaguely backwards.] Fragger was huge. He had a tail. He was missing a lot of parts before he went down, like you could see the parts holding him up. Guck leaking everywhere.

[ Whirl proceeds to continue to disgustingly describe this mess until Rodimus actually puts his hands on it and gets a good grip, in response Whirl makes a garbled noise and glares over his shoulder as best he can. ]

You bet your aft I tried to fly out. And then they shocked me. A lot. Turns out, they have 'precautions for fliers'. [Whirl is not good at air quotes. Whirl still does attempt air quotes.] Guess they had someone make it out the roof before and now it's ruined for the rest of us.

Ew.

[ Gross. Why are organics filled with so many gross bits? He supposes he should feel bad that someone who was likely another slave saw a very gruesome end, but Rodimus was quickly growing vacant of fucks except for their own situation. ]

Figures. The slaver found my fire too, so that's out.

[ And that's all he says before he tries bending the wing back in place, no warning. ]

They keep turning my guns off somehow. I'm pretty sure if I tried to fire in here I'd frag my internals, just blast them out my ba-

[Whirl is interrupted by his wing being yanked back into place, and Whirl makes a sound that is probably...very unpleasant to anyone listening but also didn't exactly feel great coming out so deal. It mostly sounds like someone attempted to murder a trash compactor. ]

-Yoooou are the worst kind of person.

[Whirl hunches up like a very aggressive animal willing to strike and gives Rodimus a look over his shoulder that somehow manages to be quite murderous without there being much of an expression to go off of.]

[ Rodimus crouches down and looks over at the wing, checking to see if there's any shrapnel caught in it where he wrenched it back into place. ]

Hey, the pain is usually not as bad if you're not tensed up. You didn't need that warning, tough guy.

[He makes a very obnoxious sort of whining sound that really doesn't help his 'no known weaknesses' case but come on if your wing was very literally bent in half you'd be doing exactly the same.]

Did you at least bend it right?

[Whirl cycles his optic on and off again because that made his tanks roll. Frag.]

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I want it all and I want it right now

whirlybird

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