It's About To Get Rough For You

Upon getting to the rendezvous Winter follows Viktor, not knowing what to expect but hearing the words 'That's odd' doesn't bode well. Winter stays quiet but the concerned look on her face is enough to give away her thoughts. She watches Viktor a little bit too intently, failing to notice the person behind her, the only warning being the flashes on his visor. Yet it is too late as something grasps her throat and before she knows it her vision goes pitch black.

Water rippling and splashing against the side of something and a cold gust of wind wakes the little Russian from her forced nap. Upon opening her eyes it takes her a few blinks for her vision to unblur. "Chto, chert voz'mi, proizoshlo?" She rasps out in her native tongue, still a little groggy and feeling the remnants of the rough grasp on her throat from earlier. She's certain it'll leave a bruise on her pale flesh. It takes her a few moments to realise she's restrained on a chair; ropes binding her arms behind her back, her ankles together and tied around her waist. Whoever it was who captured the pair they weren't messing around.

Soon after that, about three or four of them swarmed Viktor, avoiding heavy blows for reasons he can't explain, but roughed him up enough to get the air knocked out of him, thus preventing him from trying anything. The men drop him a few feet away from Winter, and it takes him a moment to press his hands against the wooden dock to put himself into a sitting position.

He lifts his head and, despite his bruised face with a bleeding nose and a busted lip, he still carries that smile when seeing Winter. "Hey, Jess." Viktor pants out, almost laughing, before one of the men grabs and pulls his hair back, snapping into his ear.

"You said her name was Katie."

The other masked man slants his head down, his eyes squinting while strolling over to Winter. "What? I heard Taylor."

Viktor chuckles. "Hey man, those blondes look the same. Can't remember them all." He grunts when shoved into the deck as his hair is released and sighs as if he were forced to get out of bed when lifting himself up again.

The person stops beside Winter and places a hand on her shoulder. "What are we doing with her then?"

"You think I can afford a five star hotel then?"

And he wanted to add a punch to that, but the timing of a few rain droplets hitting the ground couldn't be more-- perfect, and his focus turned to making sure his stuff wouldn't get immediately soaked. Last thing he needed was to smell like wet dog... and for someone to poke at him for it.

"Better than being in group area that jumps you without you looking."

After stuffing his duffle bag securely under some cardboard boxes, he picked up the messy cig that was just.. there, in his spot, STILL. Between his fingers he crushed it even further, making this another point to the bratface's question as he rose, holding the remains in their face.

His attention is brought back to the stranger after the crushed cigarette is pushed into his mask. The visor returns to X's as he goes silent for a moment, thinking about his next choice of words.

pornhub.com/men tied up and whimpering and suffering

He nearly slips into unconsciousness, only for him to snap awake for a brief moment. "—do. Do to me?"

Next, he lays Blaze down on his side so he can cuddle in front and grab his aft.

He sets down the coffee cup to the safety of a nearby table, already lowering himself down so he doesn't hit anything incase of his frame just giving away without a warning.

Even when Vortex goes for the conversational topic Blaze would do anything to avoid, it doesn't bother him like it used to. "I don't have any plans to lose it. So, no thanks." He props his leg up on the berth, arm leaning against the knee. "You'd be in for a boring time there. Who knows if that equipment hasn't vanished over time somehow."

Just making those little shifts to get comfortable reminds him of the cause behind his helmache. For that, he needs a simple solution.

A simple meal. Whatever time of day it is, doesn't concern Blaze. If he could, he would drink coffee instead of energon every single time.

"I'm feeling quite peckish, so how about we have something to eat..." He suppresses a sneer threatening to foil his line delivery. "... Pancake? Like you know. With some copper chips."

Another word that will be censored for Blaze, whether it was intentional or not. He wasn't taking it any more.

The device beeps indicating the charge was set, and Vortex presses the button to send an excruciating shock to Blaze through the collar. Not enough to completely short circuit Blaze's systems, but enough to make him motionless and silent for a moment.

"Listen, sugarplum, your leg is almost healed, and you're clearly exhausted from me. If you give it a few more days, you'll be back out there selling contraband and sleeping in filthy alleys again." Vortex states as he steps over to the other helicopter. "I'll get you something to eat, Primus forbid I let my little cutie pie starve, and you..." He leans over to wave the device in his servo and grin.