[ don't make a sound in case they hear you ]

[[ crow ]]

With the black sky stretched out above him and the roads completely open below him, Feuer could honestly say he was in a good mood. His engine purred softly as he cruised around the city, playing nice and obeying organic street rules and regulations. Tonight was just too... good, and he really didn't feel like getting pulled over by some human cop looking for a quick arrest. As long as he kept relatively calm and drove accordingly, Feuer could continue to enjoy this sort of night that was so rare. Hell, he could even see a star or two in the sky, and that was normally impossible, considering the smoggy environment Detroit provided. Perhaps the recent snow and rain had cleared the air a little.

Some song played on his radio. He couldn't name it, nor the band, but again, it didn't bother him. It was a catchy enough tune, soft enough so it didn't shatter the night, but not so soft that he could be called a pansy for it. Really, he didn't mind being called a pansy. It wasn't his music, after all. It was an organics, and Primus knows what they were smoking when they wrote some of their stuff. Seriously, some of their songs were full of so much cheese, it made Feuer wonder what human wine tasted like. Then again, he preferred those songs over the ones that held so little meaning, even the deepest of thinkers couldn't pull one out of their hat. They tried too hard, anyway.

A light in front of him flashed yellow, then red, and Feuer brought himself to a stop. What was he doing anyway? Was he really just wasting time, driving along some deserted city road in the middle of the night, like some lost organic? Well, he knew he wasn't lost. Maybe he really was a pansy, and wanted to bask in the glory of this rare night.

… Naw.

His normal hideout just didn't seem that great right now. The abandoned building smelled too much of smoke, and not in the good way. It gave him a right processor ache, that it did. He had left one of the doors open before he left, just to give it a chance to air out. Hopefully nothing unpleasant would crawl in there and die. That'd be worse. Much worse. He could deal with the smell of smoke and a processor ache. A dead thing? Yeah no, he'd laugh too hard when he saw it, and probably fall into a stasis of sorts because of laughter.

How pathetic.

In the distance, he thought he heard the sound of another engine. Aw man, and here he was, thinking he had roam of the road. Maybe he'd get lucky and it'd just be some insomniac human out for a spin, much like himself. Listening again, he definitely caught sound of an engine, and, focusing on the red light in front of him, willed the light to flash green, and allow him to move.

He could always break the rules, though.

[Slug]

He had been stalking the orange sports car for who knows how long, but it made no difference to him. All that mattered was actually offlining the glitch for good-- after all, he had failed the last time when he tinkered with the lie-detector and made it into a nice, lovely bomb for the other mech, but Primus, the afthole was going to be harder to kill than he thought.

But not too difficult, of course. He was, after all, Thunderstruck.

Smirking to himself-- well, hell, if cars could smirk, he'd be smirking-- he drove closer to the other cybertronian, allowing his engine to make a few noises to let the other know he was there, and ready for payback. ...And Solarfeuer didn't seem to get the memo. He just kept on driving. What the frag over?

Time to crank it up a notch... or few.

Once the light turned green, Thunderstruck gave a monstrous bellow, putting as much energy as he could into his wheels as he lurched forward, aiming himself at Solarfeuer's bumper.

And if he didn't succeed in knocking the bomber into stasis lock, he could always try backing up...

[[ crow ]]

Oh he should have known.

If anything was going to ruin a perfect night, it'd be him.

He had a thing for ruining things, didn't he? And here Feuer was, thinking that was his job. Who gave the other mech the audacity to do such a thing? Because Feuer would sure like to let them know where they could shove their audacity. It wouldn't be the most pleasant place, either, he could assure that. Not something you'd want to tell your grandmother over turkey dinner. She just might spew turkey on you, and that would be worse than the dead thing in his current abode. He'd laugh even harder if some old organic spit turkey.

And so, with some Cybertronian barreling at him, Feuer attempted to dodge out of the way, succeeding for the most part. While he remained mostly untouched, Feuer hadn't completely avoided the hit, and end up skidding a few feet before he managed to brake and hold still, right next to a fire hydrant. Any closer, and Feuer just might have hit the organic thing, causing a fountain of water to burst forth. Naturally, though, that particular fact didn't bother him. What did bother him was the large scrape on his side now. Had he not just finished cleaning up from his last encounter with this mech? Good gosh, someone was violent.

“That wasn't cool,” he drawled. “Ya' coulda just said 'hi', y'know. Yeesh.”

[/blockquote]

[Slug]

Thunderstruck snarled as Solarfeuer evaded his attack-- well, mostly. He was pleased once he noticed that the other had a large scrape on his side. Primus, the curvy, silver vehicle was practically glowing under the few stars out tonight, he was so pleased-- oh, and he had the gal to purr, too.

"Hell-oh, lovah." Was Thunderstrucks purrrfect reply, engine rumbling happily. Was he happy? Why, yes. Yes he was. He supposed it was because that Solarfeuer was so fun to be around! Really! A race, a fight, and then trying to kill eachother-- it was so great, the racer was all too ready to return in kind for the other.

Y'know, you should teach me how to make real bombs," Thunderstruck said sulkily, a pout in his voice. "So I can really blow you up!" He snarled, aggressive once more as he went at the orange sports car, putting another round of energy into his wheels as he did so, but in the middle of his chaotic driving, Thunderstruck transformed, giving the ground a hard shove with his feet, hoping to actually pounce on Solarfeuer, a manic grin on his face as he made this decision...

[[ crow ]]

“Teach ya' ta' make bombs?” He asked, actually considering it for a moment. Eh, regardless of the mech's intentions or whether he was serious or not, it was always nice to hear someone express an interest in explosions. Then again, this particular bot just wasn't on Feuer's list of people to hang out with (no one was), and he just really didn't feel like teaching him anything, bombs or not.

“How 'bout no?”

And then the next thing he knew, a fully transformed Thunderstruck was flying at him. But Feuer, now on his proverbial toes, skidded out of position, wheels turning faster than they should have to get him away from the targeted spot. He himself stayed in vehicle mode, preferring the speed that it provided, just in case he really did need to get away from here. And, at this rate, he probably would need to get away from here. After all, there was no Spade to save him this time. Or any other bot for that matter, it was just him and the silver lug of metal that tried to pass as a mech.

“Y'know, fer someone who seems ta' hate me, we keep bumpin' inta' each other. Coincy-dincy? Me thinks not.” It was rather odd, after all. Feuer couldn't just seem to follow the notion that perhaps the other mech was following him.

[/blockquote]

[Slug]

“Y'know, fer someone who seems ta' hate me, we keep bumpin' inta' each other. Coincy-dincy? Me thinks not.”

Thunderstruck gave the car a look that said No, really?, annoyance flashing across his faceplates. "I don't hate you. I'm just currently holding a sociopathic grudge against you like I did against the other guy." Thunderstruck smiled a little, if darkly.

"He didn't last long."

With that said, Thunderstruck decided to take out the big guns, swiftly getting out his energon scaple and pressing the lone button on it's handle. With a soft gust of air that suspiciously sounded like a gasp, the scaple lengthened into a staff, and Thunderstruck chucked the staff at Solarfeuer, it's sharp tip pointed at the orange sports car's hood as it flew through the air. Clearly, Thunderstruck was aiming to offline the other. After all, the spark was located beneath the hood of a Cybertronian's car alt mode.

Usually, anyway. And if he missed, if by an inch, or a mile, Thunderstruck could always start tossing his knee gears!

[[ crow ]]

When did this go from a nice drive at night to a fight to kill him, Feuer mused, pulling a quick move and transforming before the spear could offline him for good. A quick thought that maybe he shouldn't have moved flashed through his processor. After all, ending it here would at least get the other off his back, even if it was an a rather unorthodox matter. But Feuer tossed the thought, focusing on the spear that had managed to plant itself straight through one of the plates along his arm. “Does that make me the fall back?” He asked cheerfully, quirking an optic in question.

“And uh, how easily does this thing come out? 'Cause if ya' want it back, I dunno when ya' gonna get it.” Because it was imbedded in his arm and hurt like a bitch. Feuer almost turned off the pain receptors, but decided against it, because he wanted to be warned if the spear did more damage that it looked like it did. The mech chuckled lowly, studying the spear with a look of interest. “Ya' think this thing'll blow up? That'd be cool. Anyway, I don't care so much 'bout yer sociopathic grudge thingy, just leave me alone. I ain't doin' somethin' ta' you.”

That was as close to diplomatic Feuer would probably ever get.

[/blockquote]

[Slug]

“Does that make me the fall back?”

"You have no idea." Thunderstruck replied, annoyed as he eyed his staff that was deep in Solarfeuer's arm. Really, was it that difficult to kill one, orange, midget? Honestly, maybe Primus had it in for him, but he wasn't going to give up-- not yet, at least.

“And uh, how easily does this thing come out? 'Cause if ya' want it back, I dunno when ya' gonna get it.”

Thunderstruck stared at Solarfeuer for a long time, a Are-you-retarded? look on his faceplates. Finally, he shook himself out of his stupor, his voice eerily calm and... almost gentle? "Easy enough. Just pull it out like you did with the shrapnel." He responded, then took a few steps toward Solarfeuer, tilting his head to the side as he watched Solarfeuer for a moment, pursing his lips in thought.

"Take it out now, or I'll do it." He added, his tone hinting some anger.

“Ya' think this thing'll blow up? That'd be cool. Anyway, I don't care so much 'bout yer sociopathic grudge thingy, just leave me alone. I ain't doin' somethin' ta' you.”

"No." He responded automatically, fearing for his staff's safety, though his voice betrayed nothing. "And I. Don't care. About your opinion. Now give me my staff before I start throwing more sharp pointy objects at you." Thunderstruck grumped, grimacing slightly.

Why couldn't the mech just die already?

[[ crow ]]

A pout crept along his face plates, masking the amusement he felt for the whole situation. Yeah, sure, there was something sharp and painful jutting through his arm, but he had suffered through worse. An ickle spear wasn't really bothering him too much. In fact, Feuer wondered how long he could keep in it, just to screw with the other mech's head. Obviously the weapon was important, right? Not many mechs were careful about how they used such a thing, nor did they not try to jump and get it. After all, rushing the process may result in a broken spear.

Feuer smiled.

“Little bigger than a piece o' shrapnel, y'know. Can't just yank something like this out. Well actually ya' could, but it'd pro'bly break, and I'm not thinkin' ya' want a broken spear, mm?” He studied the weapon for a moment, prodding here and there, as if testing it's hold on his arm, his poor, poor arm. Tonight just wasn't his night, getting scratch up and speared. Feuer could sense quite a few hours of repair in the future, probably delaying whatever project he felt like working on. “But whatever, ya' want it back quickly, so I'll do it quickly. No promises.” He grinned wildly before gripping the spear with his other hand, moving like he was going to yank the obscene thing out.

Surprisingly, it came out easy enough. The other probably knew his weapons well enough to tell when one would last longer than others. Feuer took a few extra clicks to study the thing before chucking it back at its owner, turning in part to look at the wound it created. Well, it severed a few cords, that was for sure. His servo wasn't responding as fast as it should, and the bright orange paint around it was already darkened with the stain-producing energon. “Ya' sure know how ta' pick yer weapons, man.” The bot said with an impressed whistle.

[/blockquote]

[Slug]

The second Solarfeuer smiled, Thunderstruck shuddered and looked at the ground, then mentally kicked himself for being such a baby over a little thing like a smile. But he reminded himself smiles were contagious. And creepy.

Especially when a bomb-happy shorty was the one with the smile.

“Little bigger than a piece o' shrapnel, y'know. Can't just yank something like this out. Well actually ya' could, but it'd pro'bly break, and I'm not thinkin' ya' want a broken spear, mm?”

Thunderstruck's head snapped up quickly, anger crossing his faceplates. What was the orange mech implying? Because if it was what he thought it was, there would be hell to pay. Oh, no. He wouldn't just kill the fragger.

He would make him wish he was never sparked!

“But whatever, ya' want it back quickly, so I'll do it quickly. No promises.”

He snarled at the glitch's grin, lip curling back in distaste, though the expression soon left his face as a sigh of relief escaped him when he saw his staff removed from Solarfeuer's arm, unharmed. Easily catching it when the other chucked it at him, Thunderstruck gave his staff a once over before pressing one of it's buttons, shrinking it back to a scaple. "Aw, did that mean, midget hurt you? I bet he did. Don't worry, though, Daddy is here." Thunderstruck giggled as he cooed this, patting his scaple for good measure before putting it back into his subspace pocket.

“Ya' sure know how ta' pick yer weapons, man.”

Optics flickering owlishly for a moment, Thunderstruck looked back at Solarfeuer, frowning. "And you're noticing this now? Shame on you." He muse, smirking a little deviously. Inwardly, however, he was very pleased with himself. After all, it's not every day someone compliments the very weapon that they got injured with.

Yeah, Thunderstruck was just that good.

[[ crow ]]

“I resent that,” he cooed, brushing the wound a few times over, as if to create a new layer of metal just from a sweep of his hand. “I happen ta' be a very likable midget, thank ya' very much.” Feuer had long since grown out of getting angry over short jokes. He'd accepted his vertical deficiency long along. Like, before the war long ago, just because bots ran out of insults quickly, and if he could ignore the short jokes, then he'd be all set in the long run, which suited him just fine.

Plus, he was rather short.

“Yeah, yeah, shame on me. Shame on ya' fer keepin' me alive long enough ta' comment on yer weaponry.” Those voice controls of his were gonna get him in trouble one day, he'd swear it on his creators' grave. That is, if he knew whether or not they were dead. It had to be all sorts of bad karma to swear on the living's graves. Probably get him an early sentence to the pit, as there was no other acceptable place for a bot of his stature. Maybe an organic junk yard, though the freaking humans would probably not know how to completely shut off a mech.

Hmm. And eternity in an organic scrap heap, slowly rusting away but never actually dying.

Now that was a fun image.

Or maybe not, because it was bound to get boring after a while. Yeah, Feuer would rather just go out in lights quickly, and spend the rest of his days wherever whatever deity sent him. Hm, death would mean figuring out what the pit was out there, wouldn't it? No more attempts at being philosophical and finding out, 'cause he would know. The mech glance quickly at Thunderstruck, wondering if he could possibly push the mech back to the 'holy Primus I'm going to kill you' mood he had been in earlier. It wouldn't be that hard... And it would be for science, right? Figuring out what was up there would be for science...

Then again, he had all those other experiments he had to do. Ah, to be torn between current goals and bigger ones, how tragic.

“'Kay. 'Night.” He quipped with a rather well placed yawn.

[/blockquote]

[Slug]

“I resent that, I happen ta' be a very likable midget, thank ya' very much.”

Thunderstruck snorted. "I don't see your army of friends, Miss 'likable midget'." Had he just said miss? Whoops. "Plus, you don't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out you're not the type of gal--" Thunderstruck's face screwed up in surprise, stopping what he was about to say next. He stared at Solarfeuer for a few nanokliks, as if trying to figure something out. His mouth opened, then shut closed. Opened, shut. Opened, shut.

It was understandable that he felt like a fish at that moment.

"Primus, I can't help but notice that you really, really, really look like a femme. Maybe it's just the dark messing with me, but hell, I haven't seen such a good lookin' bot for a while." He said seriously, faceplates blank. "Are you sure you ain't a femme? I mean, that orange really compliments your figure--" Primus, was he babbling? "And, by the pit, your optics are so... pretty? Yeah. Pretty."

Silence.

"...That was a bad joke, by the way." Thunderstruck added, grinning cheekily. "Though I do have to say again, what a lovely, peel-me-orange colour you have chosen!" He said, chuckling.

“Yeah, yeah, shame on me. Shame on ya' fer keepin' me alive long enough ta' comment on yer weaponry.”

"Guilty." Thunderstruck beamed, shameless as ever. "Every mech needs his ego stroked here and there. I mean, I'd just get mopey without you around to mess with." What happened to killing Solarfeuer? Honestly, Thunderstruck had no idea, but it was obvious he had changed his mind about offlining the prat.

For now.

“'Kay. 'Night.”

"Aha, not gonna happen while I'm around, 'Feuer." Thunderstruck said, grinning wider. "The night is young, and I plan on having as much fun as I can-- at your expense, of course. So! You either come with me willingly, or I knock you out and drag you to a bar. Because, tonight, we're gonna see whose holoform can drink more without getting shit-faced!" He chirped.

And if Solarfeuer said no, he could always try out that threat of his.

[[ crow ]]

Bah, femme this, femme that – the rate Thunderstruck was speaking could have made Feuer believe he was a porn channel or something. Honestly, there was such a thing as 'moving on', surely the other mech knew that. There came a time when someone's masculinity was threatened, even if he did go through 'femme' comments often. Of course, he hardly expected one like Thunderstruck (the jackaft he was) to go this far. It seemed like an honest slip-up, actually, which was far more embarrassing than some drunk fool flirting. Why, if Feuer had been in his right mind (which he never was), he might have had a mind to smack some sense into the other.

“Oh why thank you,” he drawled, making a rather blank expression. After all, how was one supposed to react to a would-be killer calling you a female? Violent reactions, maybe, and while that suddenly sounded all the more appealing, Feuer doubted he could take on the much larger mech with just one arm. No, right now all he wanted to do was go home and fix the freaking wound that kept sending off the occasional signal to his processor. Yeah, he got it already, something was wrong. No need to keep telling him.

“Pretty funny joke,” he said, rather bemused. “And I know, right? It looks just like a citrusy fruit, don't it?” He scoffed, brushing some non-existent dirt off his armor. Or maybe it was soot. “Germans got quite a taste fer colorful cars, 'specially bright colors. Lotta pinkies over in Europe, s'kinda bland over here.” Which was true, of course. Compare the cars and you'd notice a distinct lack in color and a distinct gain in size. Americans had to be overcompensating for something. “'Daw, now yer gettin' sentimental on me, I feel so needed!”” If it wasn't for the fact that it would disturb the organics, Feuer would have laughed.

“Anyway, goin' ta' a bar with some 'mech who just tried ta' do away wit' me ain't somethin' I'm gonna say yes ta' easily, y'know. Ya' gotta have some serious issues to go ta' a bar with a would-be murderer.” He grinned wildly, pulling a human move and cracking his knuckles. “So let's get on wit' it, yeah? Night's still young.” Hey, he never said he didn't have issues. Repairs could wait, getting drunk (well, that couldn't actually happen, not in holoform mode.) sounded like a tank load of fun.

[/blockquote]

[Slug]

“Oh why thank you,"

"You're oh-so-welcome, dahlin'." Thunderstuck said, flashing his optics at Solarfeuer.

“Pretty funny joke, and I know, right? It looks just like a citrusy fruit, don't it?”

"No slag." Thunderstruck responded, raising an optic ridge at Solarfeuer's, uhm. Color. "You should get a new color." He added, tilting his head. "Maybe red-- nah. Too common. How about... purple." He snickered a little, then sobered. "No. Actually, orange fits you. Kinda reminds me... of your personality. And your bombs. Kinda gives you that 'shazzam' look. Don't change it." He warned, glowering at Solarfeuer for a moment, then grinning.

“Germans got quite a taste fer colorful cars, 'specially bright colors. Lotta pinkies over in Europe, s'kinda bland over here.”

Thunderstruck automatically looked down at himself, pouting at his silver colour. Maybe he was the one who needed the paint job.

Nah. Silver, baby. It fit him quite fine, thank you very much.

“'Daw, now yer gettin' sentimental on me, I feel so needed!””

"I tend to get sentimental about the things I like before tossing them." Was Thunderstruck's honest, though soft response. Well, hell, he did like Solarfeuer. Kinda. Not really. Frag, he didn't know, but the other cybertronian was a good source of amusement. He'd most likely follow him around until he got bored of him.

And he usually killed the things he got bored of.

“Anyway, goin' ta' a bar with some 'mech who just tried ta' do away wit' me ain't somethin' I'm gonna say yes ta' easily, y'know. Ya' gotta have some serious issues to go ta' a bar with a would-be murderer.”

"Would-be murderer? I am a murderer. And I'm pretty sure you've killed your fair share of bots, too." Thunderstruck teased, grinning back at the other. However, the 'I am a murderer' part was certainly no joke...

Oh well.

“So let's get on wit' it, yeah? Night's still young.”

Thunderstruck grinned like the Cheshire cat, showing off his pearly teeth. "Getting drunk it is-- or trying to, anyway." He said, quite clearly amused at the would-be attempts at getting drunk off their afts.

"If we don't succeed... we can always hit an oil factory. Terrorize the humans a little-- or not, depending on you-- and... hell, get drunk!" Cheerfully, Thunderstruck reverted to alt mode, revving his engine eagerly.

"Before I leave, I brush my teeth with a bottle of jack, because when I leave for the night, I ain't comin' back!"

Oh, yes. Thunderstruck was definitely eager.

[[ crow ]]

“Purple is a 'con color,” Feuer said bluntly, not bothering to put on a grin or make a joke. It wasn't funny, after all. Not to him at least. Since the war had escalated again, certain colors were becoming extremely off limits for paint, purple and red, namely, as they both were heavily connected to the opposing fractions. Colors like orange, blue, or even black, though still remained rather neutral, and he'd be glad to stick to those. “Orange's fine.” Though, the talk of colors was reminding him that he had been orange a tad too long. Maybe...

“Ya' look fine in yer color yerself, then again I doubt a giant like yerself could pull offa 'nother color.” A rather cheesy grin, and then he smiled, suddenly feeling tired. Maybe agreeing to a night out wasn't the smartest idea. “And I'll keep that in mind, the sentimental thingy.” Not that it bothered him. Either Thunderstruck was kidding or actually meant it, and Feuer knew how to deal with it both ways. To be honest, though, he was kind of hoping the mech was just kidding. “And I meant my would be murderer, y'know,” he added, flourishing his hand for emphasis.

But yeah, he had killed a fair share of bots.

“Sounds lika plan.” Following swift, he transformed, a little slower than he would have liked but oh well. “Lead the way,” Feuer taunted, just because he had no idea where the mech planned to go. There were plenty of human bars around, and Feuer wasn't up for picking one, because he probably wouldn't be able to make up his mind. They all seemed like fun places to mess with organics.

Some night this was turning out to be.

[/blockquote]