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Swindle didn’t make being drunk a habit, for good reason. He also didn’t make overthinking a habit either, again for good reason. He didn’t see the massive shadow looming over his doorway until it moved, and by then it was way too late to draw the weapon he very much wasn’t supposed to have that he kept in a hidden compartment in his arm. Fat lot of good that did him. Usually he’d move before anyone else had even seen the danger, so he was almost dizzy with surprise when he was grabbed and pinned against the outer wall of his apartment. Too shocked to even make a noise.
“What the hell are you up to, Swindle.” A chilly, flat voice picked out in his audial. It took way too long to move past surprise to fear and then, finally, recognition.
“Blast Off?” Swindle squawked. “What the hell!”
Blast Off put some more weight on him. He had plenty to spare. In Swindle’s bleary optic he was mostly a big purple and brown shadow. That blocky, unyielding figure cut sharp angles that dug tightly into Swindle’s chest plate, holding firm even in his swaying vision. Blast Off’s plating gleamed in the waning sunset. He never looked anything but groomed, even when he was floating around in deep space where no one could see him.
Swindle prided himself on understanding the motivations of just about everyone. Everyone wanted something. Everyone had some base, shameful desire deep down that drove them. Everyone had a price. Blast Off he couldn’t figure. He never seemed to want anything but to be a fucking smug aft and to push people as far away as possible. He was a puzzle Swindle couldn’t really solve, and didn’t really want to get close enough to try. It was always a little bit of a blow to his ego, but he could take the loss if it meant those icy, judgmental optics were sneering down at him less. Swindle wasn’t sure why that got to him. Despite his size and raw strength, Blast Off was maybe the 3rd most intimidating guy in his gestalt. Vortex scared other torturers. Blast Off might just glare you to death.
He seemed intent on doing that right now. His expression was ironed smooth by his mask, and his optics only betrayed the sort of cool disgust they normally did, just cut down deeper. They shone hypnotically bright, burning in Swindle’s swimming gaze. Swindle’s heel scraped the wall, finding nothing solid below.
“What are you slagging doing with Astrotrain.” Blast Off said.
Swindle gaped. “Really, is that what this is-”
Blast Off pulled back and rammed him into the wall again. Swindle felt his optics glitch at the shock, all the air leaving his vents.
“Stay. Away. From him.” Blast Off said. “Whatever angle you’re working. Drop it.”
“I’m…” Swindle kicked at the wall. “It’s not like that…” Blast Off applied more pressure. Swindle heard his plating squeal, and so did he. “I’m not doing anything, honest…!”
“Honest?” Blast Off said. “Spare me. You’re incapable of honesty.”
Swindle glared, then looked away. He gripped Blast Off’s arm. “Why the hell...why do you even care, anyway?”
Blast Off said nothing for a while. When Swindle met his optics, they were still staring, as icy and steady as ever.
“Because he’s a good guy.” Blast Off said finally. “He doesn’t deserve whatever it is you’re going to do to him.”
“Good guy...good…” Swindle squirmed in his grasp, straightening himself. “You told me he was a prick!”
“Yeah.” Blast Off said. “He is."
Swindle gestured his servo in exasperation. He really didn’t get this guy at all.
Blast Off put even more weight on him, and that forced Swindle’s attention back to his predicament. A minor warning about the integrity of his chest armor scrolled across his HUD. Sure Blast Off wasn’t Vortex or even Onslaught, but he could still crumple him like a can by sheer size alone. Swindle knew a losing battle when he saw one.
“Alright, Alright, Primus, listen,” Swindle pleaded. He tugged at Blast Off’s arm, hoping that he would remember they were still gestalt in spite of everything. “It really isn’t...you don’t understand…”
“Shut up.” Blast Off said. “You’re so full of shit, Swindle. I don’t want to fragging hear it.” He leaned in. “Just leave him alone. He’s been through enough.”
Yes, he had. Swindle remembered that far away look on Astrotrain’s face when he’d told him Octane was dead. For a little bit, Astrotrain was almost normal or something. And then he was gone, like someone had cut out his spark. The room had been moving all around him in Swindle’s recollection, but Astrotrain was so clear and still in the center of it. Just sitting there, staring into nothing. Like Astrotrain was somewhere else, and his frame was just sitting there, talking and moving dully without him. It was one of the most unnerving things he’d ever seen. Astrotrain wasn’t a mech he knew well, but he wasn’t someone Swindle ever thought would crack up like that.
Maybe it was the drink, or the conversation he’d just left Astrotrain with. Maybe it was none of those things. Swindle didn’t know. He glared at Blast Off. “Well, you go visit him then. Since you’re such good friends or whatever.”
Blast Off said nothing at that.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Swindle said. “Get off your high horse, you self-righteous fuck.”
Decepticon Blast Off - Subgroup: Combaticon - In shuttle mode, Blast Off is capable of reaching escape velocity and remaining in orbit for up to eight months at a time. Top speed in this mode is 26,000 miles per hour, and it is armed with a powerful and accurate X-ray laser that can hit targets up to 12,000 miles away from orbit. In robot mode, he is armed with an ionic blaster and two leg-mounted cannons. He joins with the rest of the Combaticons to form Bruticus.
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