Big Tipper

Log Title: Big Tipper

Characters: Blast Off, Swivel, Dust Devil

Date: September 15 2022

TP: Non-TP

Summary: Blast Off buys a lot of drinks in an attempt to unravel a personal mystery.

One could say it's a tender mercy that the Rollout Bar is not too busy tonight, for she is still getting her bearings. Swivel pops up from the cellar door, ready to begin her shift and eager to work hard. She begins by cleaning up some tables, but looks around for anyone requiring service.

"Bartender!" There's a huff of long-suffering impatience as a very tall, dark figure sitting in the darkest corner he could find demands some attention. "I come in here to take my mind off of ....things and now I can't even get quality service!", he mutters to himself while looking around the room.

Swivel looks up when she hears Blast Off's imperious voice. There is a pang of uneasy prickles, and she looks around. But at the moment she's the only free person. Her gaze shifts back to Blast Off. Oh. It's him again. But Swivel is determined to do her best at this job, so to him she must go. Trying her best not to slink, Swivel strides over and puts on her best smile. "I'm sorry fer the wait. Wot kin I getcha, sir?"

Blast Off sighs heavily, placing his empty mug on the table before him. "About time." He turns his head, violet optics going straight- no....up? No, down- ah! Again. And again.... a pang of some memory stirring. It's HER.

The shuttleformer's demeanor shifts slightly. Now, instead of the brooding, miserable figure from before there's something... sharper in the way he watches her as optics widen, then return to normal with a hint of aloof air. "You're new."

Yes. It is HER. And that very femme's own optic ridges raise just a little when his optics widen, but then her face goes back to a mask of polite smiles and relaxed features, belying the wheels turning deep in Swivel's mind as she tries to piece together her own little puzzle. "That's very observant of you, sir." No ya or yer, she takes a little more care with her anunciation. "My name is Swivel." Not Pivot. "Now, then, would you loik a refill?" Swivel asks, gesturing towards his empty mug.

Blast Off gazes down upon her, the mask of aloofness growing- until she mentions her name. Confusion can almost be seen on the mech's masked face in the way he stares at her, then blinks and looks away. "Swivel..." He says it as if correcting himself from an earlier error. He looks down at her again, but all the irritation has left this Decepticon- however, that little bit of sharpness remains as he studies her from head to studded feet.

Then the shuttleformer looks away again, clearing his throat, and the air of aloofness deliberately descends once more. "Ah. Yes. Well, it's my job to be observant." Now his voice contains its usual slow, aristocratic air. "I would. Give me something strong...but sophisticated."

It isn't lost on Swivel that she is being observed closely. There is just the tiniest quiver, a slight sway as she stands there. But she remains rooted to the spot despite the urge to try and hide. She just nods to him in acknowledgement when he repeats her name.

"I think I moight know jus' ther thing, sir," Swivel says in a chipper tone. "I'll be back shortly." She turns and walks away. Although she suspects he will watch ehr further and thus does not let her guard down, keeping her professional air all the way to the bar. No slumping or trembling or slinking. Erect posture and lively steps. At the bar, she speaks with one of the senior bartenders about mixing something up - she's still in training and would rather trust this to someone with more experience.

Indeed, Blast Off IS watching her... at least when he isn't turning his head and specifically NOT looking because he's just realized he was staring too long.

THINK. THINK! The shuttleformer tries to get his already slightly sloshed cerebro-circuits to activate and tell him who this IS. He knows he knows her... from somewhere, It's just after millions of years outside his own body and stuffed into a new one, all the memory circuits don't always cross just right.

After a while, Swivel returns with a flute of a gently glowing beverage, a deeper, more saturated blue on the bottom that gradients to a lighter blue on top Swivel sets it down before Blast Off. "Here y'ar sir. Enjoy. And if anything is not to yer - your loiking, let me know." Swivel places her hands together, held out in front of her thighs as she gives a shallow bow before turning to clean a table very near by. Of course she's going to keep an optic on him - and ready to respond if he has more complaints.

Blast Off's gaze drifts to the drink as Swivel brings it to him- but as she speaks, it flicks to her, optic ridges furrowing for a moment before violet optics flicker and he shifts back to the drink for appraisal. He tries to ignore her a moment, staring is rude and unbecoming!- and watches as the liquid in the flute flows and glows. "Not bad... Good presentation." he murmurs before reaching for the drink and finally lifting it to his faceplate, where a small hatch opens.

Satisfied, the shuttle places the drink down. "Interesting. Almost like a wine but slightly more zesty, a little hint of peach silica, perhaps?"

Swivel glances over as she finishes wiping down a nearby table. "You know yer drinks," Swivel compliments. Her towel gets flopped over her arm and she is about to leave, but there is enough of a lull she might as well probe just a little more. "You know, you remoind me a little of someone I knew a long toim ago," Swivel remarks conversationally, watching closely for any signals that Blast Off would much rather be left alone.

Normally, Blast Off *would* prefer to be left alone... but this femme is a mystery- one he'd be pleased to solve. Can't be impolite about it, though, of course not. "I'm a space shuttle, there are certain... cultural things one should know as a matter of course." He is looking quite deliberately away, but her statement causes him to turn his head towards her once more. "...Oh?"

Swivel nods her head. "Mm-hmm. He was a space shuttle too. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were one and th'same - 'cept he'd be lecturin' me about me speech b'now." Swivel laughs. "It was a long toim ago. You enjoy your drink." Swivel turns to go attend to other customers, as Blast Off isn't the only one in the bar.

Blast Off blinks in surprise, then his brows furrow once more as thought processes. Another optical flicker at the mention of her speech- is THAT what keeps setting off something in him every time he hears her voice? Wait a minute....

The shuttleformer frowns beneath his faceplate as memories stir again.... voices... manners... MANNERS. That's important, for some reason. "Oh..." The Combaticon's voice is quiet and distracted, "I see." He gives her a nod and goes back to his drink because right now, it's the only thing he's truly certain of. ...Mostly. Yet it isn't very long-almost too fast- before THAT drink is gone, too, and Blast Off's again trying to get her attention. "I need another, please."

Dust Devil brings a rack of empty cubes from the back and heads behind the bar to stack them. When he's done he stands and looks around at the bar and does his best to school his face when he sees Blast Off.

While Swivel is working, she waves when she sees Dust Devil but otherwise focuses on keeping customers satiated and tables clean. And speaking of satisfying customers, almost as soon as Blast Off's drink is empty, Swivel is there. "Refill, or would you loik something else, sir?"

Blast Off doesn't notice Dust Devil yet, mostly because he's too busy either staring at Swivel or staring down at his drink to pretend he's NOT staring at Swivel. "I...uh..." He has to think a moment... for some reason it's getting harder.

Glancing back to the femme, his violet optics light up. "I know. How about *you* decide." He leans back, making himself comfortable. "Yes. You ...uh, Swivel, you must have some... background, some knowledge that led you here to make fine drinks? Do you know enerwine? Fetch me a glass of your finest."

Dust Devil snickers softly and goes to where the enerwines are kept and pulls out a few different bottles for Swivel to pick from when she comes back to the bar. He can be helpful! Sometimes.

Swivel laughs, her voice sweet and genuine and twittery like a jovial bird. "Actually, sir, I'm still learning th'craft. I let the senior staff mix the foiner drinks. But don't you worry, I'm sure I kin fix you up with somethin' that'd meet with yer approval." Swivel whisks away. What was that wine that her old benefactor had always raved about? O... Ora... ah! Swivel was just about to go ask Dust Devil where the wines were kept - but there he is, a selection ready to go. "Thank ya kindly. As always, ya got me back!" She searches the labels for Orion Three Orchards - AH! Swivel selects that. She was about to return with the whole bottle, but then decides to pour it out of sight of Blast Off. She's curious to know if he can identify it by taste alone.

Swivel finally returns, setting down yet another flute of a fine enerwine. "Here y'ar, sir. I chose the only woin suitable fer a mech of yer foin tastes and stature. Enjoy!"

Blast Off is pleased by that, Swivel can probably tell the way he looks almost fit to preen. "Excellent." He gracefully accepts the glass, eyeing it, then sniffing it... his optical ridges lift up slightly.... could it be? He takes a sip and...

"Ah! An excellent choice.... Orion Three Orchards, if I'm not mistaken, correct? About a... oh, 400 solar cycles past vintage?"

Dust Devil watches, curious if he could have switched out the energon cube for the one with the dribbling edge....and how bad swivel might go after him for embarrassing her...

Swivel's optic ridges shoot up when she hears Blast Off identify the wine. "Roight you are, sir," Swivel proclaims. She collects some empty cubes from nearby tables, and heads away with them, leaving Blast Off to enjoy his drink. Maybe THIS time he will savour it rather than guzzle it all down.

While Swivel is dropping off the empty cubes she leans over to Dust Devil, "Does he come here often?" she asks, discreetly gesturing to Blast Off.

He starts fast...she never did answer much about her past... but Orion Three Orchards is so good, it would be a crime to squander it. Thus Blast Off finds himself with no choice but to savor the drink. Mmm. "Ah, perfect blend of both fruity and savory notes... was a great year." Then he stops and looks down, staring past the drink at something only he can see, and seems to frown before returning to his drink, the delight of which provides some solace from past horrors.

Dust Devil grins, "Blast off likes his drinks....and he's also fun ta shoot at. You should see him with big white spots on his frame....So interestin ta look at..." He chuckles.

"Blast Off?" Swivel repeats, a bit of surprise evident in her features. But then she narrows her optics and peers over at the shuttlemech as he frowns thoughtfully at his drink. "Blast Off you say... huh..." Her thoughts drift for a moment, but then she catches herself up with the moment. Dust Devil gets a confused look. "White spots?"

Blast Off finds himself looking back where Swivel has gone to and ...wait, who's that with her? Is that....? The shuttleformer huffs softly, then takes to drinking more of his enerwine. At least now he has a pleasant buzz going on, one that helps take his mind off what could be a very unpleasant future. But soon even that is mostly, and he glances back to the two shorter figures. What's Dust Devil up to, anyway, if that IS him? Then back towards the front door. Then the figures... are they talking about him? And Swivel... manners, he... should know these things. But what did she say- lectures about speech? Yes, yes, that somehow sounds right.

Dust Devil laughs, "Yeah I sniperfired some paintballs at him ta get his attention. It worked really well..." He starts gathering up the dirty cubes and other dishes to take to the back. "He's not a bad sort overall fer a con."

For a moment Swivel looks a bit confused, but then shakes her head. She picks up a few things and follows Dust Devil, but keeps alert for any customers flagging staff down. "No, I suppose he doesn't seem loik a bad sort..." Swivel says uneasily. "Though he called me Pivot, loik you folk did when I awoke. Moight just be a strange coincidence..." Swivel glances back at Blast Off. "I don't suppose he'd have any connection at all to ther wotsits that left and th'other prisoners to that... fate."

Dust Devil shrugs, "Not sure...I'd have ta check through the files that I pulled and even that might not be a guarantee..." Blast Off looks back again and .... shoot, they're talking about him, he just knows it. Now his mind races to Autobots, then Decepticons, then certain unpleasant realities about surrendering to said Decepticons and awaiting his fate.... Argh!

With a huff, the shuttleformer suddenly finishes his drink with flourish, then- steadying himself- he stands up, looming over many others in the room. He turns to rush to the door, then remembers his manners, placing payment- and a big tip- on the table in front of him before rushing-without-trying-to-look-rushed out the door! But there is one last, long look at Swivel and Dust Devil just as he gets to the door. Swivel. That... is familiar. He raps once at his head before exiting.

"I'm sure it's... just a coinci..." Swivel trails off as Blast Off rushes out. Did he hear them? He looked their way. Maybe she should not have discussed a customer until they were gone. Did she screw up. Swivel walks over to where he left his payment, collecting it. The large tip gives her a bit of pause. She looks at the exit one more time before getting back to work.