[ti]Ep 2[/ti]A Decepticon and an Autobot walk into a bar... [Bluestreak]
Jan 12, 2018 21:40:53 GMT -5
Post by Bluestreak on Jan 12, 2018 21:40:53 GMT -5
There was a soft chuckle from the man in front of her.
"Understood," he said.
I have never been told I'm not easy to talk to, he marveled to himself. Been told to shut up a lot though. Well then again, I don't hang out with Decepticons.
Which was true. He had never set foot in the DMZ, and frankly, he had no intentions of ever doing so unless he had to.
A bubbling sense of relief welled up inside of Bluestreak though as Sparkplug said she was ready to head out.
Oh thank someone. The thought of sitting here all night nursing a glass half full of water and melting ice without even a dollar to tip the person that came fluttering by their table was awkward. Actually, everything about this felt awkward.
Right down to the femme's last verbal shot aimed across the table.
Fair enough. He'd take it.
Really, what could he say in return without possibly bouncing back onto dangerous ground about each other? Better to politely let it go, since he'd opened his mouth and already nearly sent the truce spiraling down a hole. So for his Prime's sake, for his faction's sake... and when it came down to it, for the sake of the humans whose planet this was first and foremost - well, he would simply shoulder the weight of all the words she wanted to vent at him. They were just words. No one was getting hurt, and that's what mattered in the end of all of this.
She was right though. He had no idea what she'd do. Did she seem like she was out here hanging out with the humans? Yes. Was he worried about becoming a murder cannon?
Yes, and that wasn't going to change either.
She was a Decepticon, and their conversation had only cemented in his head that he had a right to be worried about her presence here. He was pretty sure she had an understanding of what he had been trying to say, but that it just skipped right between them like a stone on a still pond.
Then sunk without a single ripple into the dark, cold depths.
Bluestreak gave a quiet wave of his hand. "Gonna be honest," he admitted, his voice slightly burred and rough. "I'm all for you heading out, but I'm totally going to tail you out of town. I know we're under a truce, but I wouldn't expect you not to wonder what I was up to or make sure I didn't cause a problem and tail me out too.
"Once we're out on the highway, I go my way, you go yours, truce absolutely adhered to."
"Just didn't end up being the best night for either of us, I guess," he replied, and slid out from his chair. Then he hesitated, set his hands gently on the back of it, and tucked it back neatly and carefully under the table.
"Understood," he said.
I have never been told I'm not easy to talk to, he marveled to himself. Been told to shut up a lot though. Well then again, I don't hang out with Decepticons.
Which was true. He had never set foot in the DMZ, and frankly, he had no intentions of ever doing so unless he had to.
A bubbling sense of relief welled up inside of Bluestreak though as Sparkplug said she was ready to head out.
Oh thank someone. The thought of sitting here all night nursing a glass half full of water and melting ice without even a dollar to tip the person that came fluttering by their table was awkward. Actually, everything about this felt awkward.
Right down to the femme's last verbal shot aimed across the table.
Fair enough. He'd take it.
Really, what could he say in return without possibly bouncing back onto dangerous ground about each other? Better to politely let it go, since he'd opened his mouth and already nearly sent the truce spiraling down a hole. So for his Prime's sake, for his faction's sake... and when it came down to it, for the sake of the humans whose planet this was first and foremost - well, he would simply shoulder the weight of all the words she wanted to vent at him. They were just words. No one was getting hurt, and that's what mattered in the end of all of this.
She was right though. He had no idea what she'd do. Did she seem like she was out here hanging out with the humans? Yes. Was he worried about becoming a murder cannon?
Yes, and that wasn't going to change either.
She was a Decepticon, and their conversation had only cemented in his head that he had a right to be worried about her presence here. He was pretty sure she had an understanding of what he had been trying to say, but that it just skipped right between them like a stone on a still pond.
Then sunk without a single ripple into the dark, cold depths.
Bluestreak gave a quiet wave of his hand. "Gonna be honest," he admitted, his voice slightly burred and rough. "I'm all for you heading out, but I'm totally going to tail you out of town. I know we're under a truce, but I wouldn't expect you not to wonder what I was up to or make sure I didn't cause a problem and tail me out too.
"Once we're out on the highway, I go my way, you go yours, truce absolutely adhered to."
"Just didn't end up being the best night for either of us, I guess," he replied, and slid out from his chair. Then he hesitated, set his hands gently on the back of it, and tucked it back neatly and carefully under the table.
