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What Rhymes with Junkion
Date of Scene: 08 July 2018
Location: Corroded Shore - Junkion
Synopsis: Hot Rod travels to Junkion in an attempt to form an alliance with Wreck-Gar.
Cast of Characters: Swivel, Hot Rod, 112


Wreck-Gar (112) has posed:
    The hellscape of Junkion. Only the most desperate come here, but with the Crucible burning Cybertron and the fighting claiming thousands of lives, either side is frantic for something that could help them tip the war. The Planet of Junk just might have that something. Now Hot Rod has offered to discuss terms with the Junkions, instead of just raiding the planet. Ashtray has accepted his proposal, and brings him (and his shadow) now to his leader, Wreck-Gar.

    Wreck-Gar sits upon a throne of refuse, the debris forming a chair of such ragged, twisted metal that it looks like one might lose a leg just getting in or out of it. Wreck-Gar himself has the same thrown-together appearance as the rest of his people, albeit with a bit more mass and a touch more madness in his optics. As Hot Rod is brought forward, he is surrounded by at least a dozen hungry-looking, near-insane scavengers.

Hot Rod has posed:
Hot Rod follows Ashtray half cheerfully, not in the least afraid or intimidated by the crazed looking scavengers. "Cozy joint you guys got up here," he comments casually to Ashtray, "say, do you guys make Nightmare fuel? I mean, there's gotta be a local dive bar around here, right?"

Then he notices Wreck Gar sitting on his makeshift throne of rubble, and he grins amicably, thrusting a hand forward. "Bah weep granah weep nini bong," he says half-jokingly. Then he follows that with,"the name's Hot Rod," with much more ease.

Swivel has posed:
    Shadow? What Shadow? Clearly not Swivel.
    Okay, yes, Swivel. The diminutive femme had gotten wind Hot Rod was up to something, and taken to following him. SHe'd ask him, but chances are he'd either deny it or just tell her to butt out and stay back at base where it is safe. Which is, admittedly, a good idea. In fact, Swivel is wondering why she didn't take the advice Hot Rod had not given yet when she finds herself covered in gunk and dust and flitting from junk pile to junk pile in a vain attempt to go unnoticed by both her fellow Nyonian and the scraggly natives - which forces her to remain quite a distance away from the throne and the many henchman surrounding it. Fortunately for her, she has good enough hearing that she can get an idea of what is going on from, even if her view isn't the best.

Wreck-Gar (112) has posed:
    Wreck-Gar looks down at Hot Rod a moment, and then with a careful gait disembarks from his throne and comes down to the Autobot's level, offering his own hand, which is a sharp mess of rusted steel and torn hide of some kind. If he's aware of Swivel's presence, he and his local tribesmechs don't let on. Instead he merely asks, "Bah weep granah weep nini bong? Is that a greeting or a song?"

Hot Rod has posed:
Hot Rod laughs, "I don't know actually - all Autobot cadets have the take the Foreign Negotiations course and that's pretty much the only thing I learned from it. 'When on non-native soil, greet the natives with bah weep granah weep nini bong to establish rapport.' Does it work? Well, you tell me," he says with a shrug. He shakes the Wreck Gar's hand heartily. "What can I do for you?"

Swivel has posed:
    Swivel strains to listen in on the conversation taking place. She gleans that this is some sort of negotiation or diplomatic meeting, though she's uncertain whether Hot Rod is acting on his own or not. She'd risk radioing back to inquire, but that could risk putting both herself and Hot Rod in trouble. Wait. What possessed her to come out here again? Swivel presses herself closer to the pillar of rubble she's hiding behind, but is constantly looking around for anyone that might spot her.

Wreck-Gar (112) has posed:
    Wreck-Gar listens to Hot Rod's explanation with a nod, and begins to smile until the Autobot asks what he can do for the Junkions. "Well, to be honest," Wreck-Gar answers, "I'm not a monist. We look alike, but are not the same. I'd rather you go back from whence you came. Our society isn't welcome to strangers, and coming here you've ignored the dangers. I'm not sure what you're trying to extract, but continue to dig and you'll be attacked. I appreciate that you're trying to be a friend, but I can't help but feel like a means to an end."

Hot Rod has posed:
"Look," Hot Rod points out, "it's already too late for that, because obviously, I'm standing here in front of you. And ironically enough, you were the one who accepted my proposal to come here and talk. If all you really hoped to get out of this conversation was to tell me get lost by going back to Cybertron, your buddy who brought me here could have, and would have communicated that to me already. I recognize I'm a foreigner, and that it's only because you're letting me be here that I haven't been eviscerated yet. And yes, I'm grateful for that. But the only means to an end here is to go about this as peacefully as possible. Mechs from Cybertron are going to come here and try to wrest what you've worked so hard to build away from you, regardless of whether I go back and tell everyone there not to or die here. Because you and I aren't so different - Cybertronians might look alike but they're not. We're divided - and our enemies aren't like me. They'll skip the small talk and go right to the part where they don't hesitate to lay siege to Junkion in order to get to whatever treasure they think you're sitting on. Now, whether you are or not, I can't say for sure. But a number of Cybertronians are convinced that you are. And like I said before, some of them won't stop until they have what they want. And honestly all I want is to keep them from decimating your planet in search of whatever it is they're looking for. And Primus forbid that there is actually something here they could use and they manage to obtain it. Because that would be bad news for both you and me."

Wreck-Gar (112) has posed:
    Wreck-Gar frowns and his optics narrow as he listens to what Hot Rod says, but rather get upset at being told what he probably didn't want to hear, he seems to respect Hot Rod's candor. "I invited you here to talk to implore you all to walk. We have what you want and you mean to take it, but if you drill our core you're sure to break it. You put me in an impossible position when you ignore my prohibition."

Hot Rod has posed:
"I want to help you protect your planet. Maybe not all of the Autobots are convinced of siding with you to keep the Decepticons off of Junkion's turf, but I'm certain I can convince them." Or can he? But of course, when has Hot Rod ever said, 'I'm not sure I can do that?' Never.

Then he shakes his helm. "And that's what I've been saying this whole time!" Hot Rod protests. "Sure, I can 'walk.' I can go back to my planet and tell everyone to leave you alone, if you don't want our help. And of course, there will be those who listen, but there will definitely be those who won't listen at all, because they're the opposing faction. They're going to attack, regardless of what I say. In fact, me telling them to leave you alone will probably incite and convince them even more that raiding Junkion is a good idea. That's just how it works when your planet is in the damn middle of a civil war." He sighs, waving a hand dismissively. "I.. can't make you want our help. If you don't want it, then fine. I'll leave and you won't ever see me again. But when those other guys come, don't say I didn't warn you."

Wreck-Gar (112) has posed:
    "How can I trust you to keep your word?" Wreck-Gar asks. "To trust outsiders is just absurd. You offer friendship, but want the same - all of our resources for you to claim. If I help you drive out those you oppose, how long before our forces and yours come to blows? You even promised to come alone, but hide a friend before the throne." Wreck-Gar gestures with a spiked arm, and instantly a half-dozen forces come forward, escorting a captured Swivel.

Swivel has posed:
    Whoops. Swivel keeps her head down as she is paraded out by the scavengers. She's compliant and meek and doesn't even dare look up at Hot Rod. She just hangs her head, knowing she messed up.

Hot Rod has posed:
"That won't happen," Hot Rod quickly interjects, "I promise. And if you want to figure out some kind of deal so that neither side breaks trust, we can do that. Regardless, I'll make sure we stay on neg--"

And then the Junkions bring out a guilty looking Swivel. "What the--!!" Hot Rod does a double take, looking very displeased. "Damn you, Swivel! What are you doing here?!? Frag!" Then he facepalms, groaning. "I swear, I didn't know she followed me here..."

Wreck-Gar (112) has posed:
    Wreck-Gar scowls, shaking his head. A long, dangerous moment passes, and then he relents. "Very well; release her." The armed Junkions step back, moving the points of their pikes skyward away from Swivel. "You have caused quite a stir. As you've said, I have no choice. No matter what, I won't rejoice. But for now, I accept your offer - just don't use my world to fill your coffer. We will ally against your foes, if that is the path that you have chose." Wreck-Gar thrusts out his jagged hand again.

Swivel has posed:
    When Hot Rod begins working and insisting he didn't know she was there, which is true, Swivel very carefully lifts her chin to take a peek at Hot Rod with the most pathetic apologetic look she can muster. But the first sign of reproach or hostility from her captors and Swivel will quickly look down again like a good little captive. She's not wanting to ruffle any feathers. She's in enough trouble as it is.
    Or... not. When the command goes out to release her, Swivel whips her head around to stare at the supposed leader for a moment. Then she quickly looks down again. She really doesn't want to cause offense. She doesn't know the local customs after all. When she is let go, Swivel glances at those pikes for a moment and then takes a cautious, measured step forward, watching to see if anyone changes their minds. She then slowly looks over at Hot Rod with that same apologetic expression. "I'm sorry."

Hot Rod has posed:
Hot Rod seemed to have missed that part about Wreck Gar not rejoicing. His blue optics sparkle like Christmas lights on Christmas Eve and he vigorously shakes the Junkion leader's hand. "Oh, perfect! Ha, I believed in you and it paid off! I knew it!" He grins, looking for all the world as if back home, Cybertron wasn't turning into a pile of melted slag. "I promise, I won't disappoint. You won't be disappointed. When you see the tech we're gonna equip you with, you'll feel like a million shanix...!" He scoops Swivel up like a small child, carrying her at his side with an arm wrapped around her torso. "Come on, we're headed back to the Decagon - can't wait to tell everyone...!"

Wreck-Gar (112) has posed:
    Wreck-Gar remains still, watching the Autobots go, hoping he hasn't just doomed his planet to destruction.

Swivel has posed:
    Being scooped up and carried off under-arm like a sack of self-sealing stembolts would be humiliating if Swivel wasn't both without a leg to stand on to be indignant and also without any sense of pride. She's just relieved nothing worse happened and she just sighs a small relief as Hot Rod hauls her off unceremoniously, arms and legs dangling.

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