The Diego Diaries: Clubbin' (dd7 348)
=0=Aerie Hill
They entered a bar called The Gilded Cage, a club favored by young Seekers and their friends. It was beautiful, copper and glass fixtures with lots of mirrors which suited a sub species of Cybertronian not especially noted for their humility. Finding tables, they pulled them together and sat down. Orders were taken and everyone glanced around to check out the local talent.
The place was rather full with mostly Seekers but there were a lot of grounders among them. Some were significant others, a thing now that they lived here in peace and could mingle as well as friends and companions in their work and/or personal lives. The dance floor was rocking with a live band and some of the less soused members of the Posse were headed for it when they finished their drinks.
Warlord grinned. "What brings you all the way here?"
They explained their error on the metro as some of the kids stood up to go dance.
"Come on, Raptor," Sideswipe said. "Show how you did it in the First Age."
Raptor smirked at him, then grinned at the others. "Time to shake my moneymaker." He rose and disappeared into the crowd.
"Moneymaker?" Prime asked as everyone searched the internet. He would laugh long and loud when he was told what it meant.
=0=Skipping ahead to the next morning, early on
He sat on his bench after breakfast sulking at the turn of affairs. He was in jail. Everyone else went clubbing and he was facing Hang 'Em High Harley in court this morning. His mini-con and several others that were brought in were still stuffing their faces as they laughed and chatted together across the cell block. In about half a joor they'd be lined up to walk to the elevator to go to the courtroom part of the Courthouse. There they would face the music.
It was deeply depressing.
=0=The night before at The Gilded Cage
Smokey jumped around like everyone else enjoying the music and close packed entanglements. He was young, handsome and ready to rumble. Several of the mechs there thought so, too. It would only take a matter of time when high grade/beer + revved up mechanical libidos + proximity made things interesting. As he danced, Smokey had no idea that two mechs who hated each other had the same things on their minds as they watched him dance.
=0=The next morning at the Courthouse
"TIME TO GO! Stand and be ready to line up on the white line on the floor in the order your bars drop," Saint said as he got ready to bring everyone upstairs. Once they were in waiting cells he was off shift. Watching a passel of riotous mini-cons swagger to the line and one slightly sulky grounder Autobot soldier with an obvious hangover, Saint grinned. "Let's go. Head for the elevator by the door."
They did.
=0=Three weeks before in a chat up with a number of sociologists and anthropological experts in a lounge at the Terra Bar at Unidad Terra 1
"I agree. Consider that the Bureau of Refugees put the population at nearby 120,000,000 individuals last week and that nearly all of them are refugees from war. Consider the hardships and losses that they've endured. Consider how lawless their lives have been perhaps for generations. I'm intensely surprised that things are so stable here," Penny Anderson said. "I expected a lot of violent crimes and other heavy duty things."
The others nodded.
"I like to attend Magistrate's Court to hear the charges against those arrested and to see what they say about them. Its a gold mine of information about mental health, lawlessness and attitudes." Johannes Bauer said. "When the mini-cons come in its the best show in town."
Everyone laughed and nodded.
"Jarro might be talked into a conversation about this. I want to know what's the difference here between their relatively low crime rate and their population's experiences," Audria Aetos replied. "Maybe even Ratchet. I think Ratchet might be the best one to ask."
They agreed and would.
=0=At The Gilded Cage during the Rake's Progress aka Prime's Posse's Prance About Town
They both rose and walked into the dancing mass of happiness that could be found in clubs everywhere in every galaxy. They disappeared immediately.
One of them, Flurry reached Smokey first, then moved as close to him as he could get. Moving along with him, he leaned into Smokey's audial. "Hi. Never saw you here before?"
Smokey who was drunk, still fuming at Hot Rod and surprised glanced over his shoulder. "Hi," he said with a grin. Life was looking up.
Flurry spun him around, then pulled him in closely. They were nose assembly to nose assembly. He grinned. "How about going somewhere else?" he asked brazenly.
Smokey who was surprised at the request in spite of himself quashed himself in his drunken stupor from saying he'd have to tell his amma and appa. Then someone else's hands were on him pulling him out of the embrace. He kept going disappearing into the crowd with big red servos making it happen.
Flurry who was bumped by someone else frowned as Smokey disappeared backward into the crowd. He moved forward to follow, though it was slow going with the crowd.
=0=Fast Forward to the jail the next orn
They walked to the cell where they would wait before being taken into the courtroom where Magistrate Harley of Slaughter City waited to review their cases. As it would turn out, he was the son of a mech who liked to drink. Given that they lived in Slaughter City, it was an easy habit to pick up. Even though his family had lost their drinking habit and 98% of their personal familial angst because of it including their Atar in the freak out known as The Diaspora, he still hated drunks and the emotional turmoil that being around them caused during his adolescence. No one wanted to be tried by Hang 'Em High Harley if they had a drinks offense.
"Time to go," Saint said as he dropped the bars. "Line up, walk in and wait for them to speak to you. No sense making him mad before you have a chance to say anything."
They lined up, then walked into the courtroom through the doorway. Surreptitiously, Roddy side eyed the room to see who was sitting in the audience. There were any number of the usual types … family of miscreants, entire extended families of some, the families and entire neighborhoods of others, Smokey and …
Hot Rod barely covered his surprise as he walked to the line in front of the judge. Behind him staring daggers into his back, Smokescreen the Infant was watching with great anticipation and delight. This was going to be hell.
=0=At The Gilded Cage the night before
Smokey the Smaller was dancing in the arms of a big Seeker mech who grinned at him with delight. He had a secret thing for grounders. Actually, it wasn't so secret. He had a thing for them. This one looked like a sport, young, drunk, handsome. He had it all. As he admired his catch, the other mech caught up to him. Their optics met, their frowns began and it was on.
=0=Courthouse the next day
The judge glanced at the line up. The usual mini-cons having a roaring good time, a couple of Seekers of all things and a sullen looking Autobot soldier. The usual lineup, he considered. He sat back, took in the room, then the miscreants. "I'd like the mini-cons before me to plea. We've been through this before, Musto. Might as well cut to the chase," he said with a slight grin.
Everyone liked mini-cons.
"GUILTY! GUILTY AS CHARGED!" Musto said as behind him the entire group of mini-cons, extended family and village(s) stood up to roar at him and the others.
It was madness for a moment, then everyone sat down including cane waving little micro mini-con elders.
Harley stared at the little slaggers with amusement. "Tell me why I don't have high grade inhibitors placed in your bodies, you little slaggers."
"Because we wouldn't have our periodic chats if you do, Harley," Tyco, another mini-con said in his tiny mini-con voice.
Harley grinned. "That's right. Three orns in jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200."
They saluted him, turned and bowed/curtsied to their raging families, then waltzed off to the jail for a three orn vacation.
It got quiet again. The mini-con congregations were evidently staying for the full floor show.
=0=At The Gilded Cage the night before
They glared at each other, then Flurry grabbed Smokey's arm. He tugged it hard. "I got him first, slagger. Let him go."
The 'slagger', Bolt grabbed Smokey's other arm. He pulled back. "The frag you will."
It was then that a tug-of-war began.
Raptor who was flinging himself around with wild abandon noted it. "Well," he said to no one in particular. "Will you look at that?"
=0=Next orn at The Reckoning™
Harley studied the data pad before him. He glanced up. "Hot Rod of Nyon. You were brought in unconscious and smelling of brew. You clocked out in the red zone for high grade inebriation as per the medic's report. It was inferred that you were dead when you were brought in, you were so drunk. Do you have anything to say?"
It was at that moment that most of the posse from the night before walked into the room to take a seat. Among them would be Ironhide and his elders, a highly amused Ratchet, a slightly amused Prime and a totally lit Prowl.
Hot Rod considered he was toast so he decided to ride this pony straight into the meat grinder. "It wasn't my fault."
Harley smirked slightly. "Go on. Do tell."
=0=The Gilded Cage the night before
They yanked him back and forth like a rag doll, nearly pulling his arms out of socket. Before they could, a smiling good spirited and highly drunk Raptor slipped into their space. "Hi. How about putting the infant down before you break him?"
"How about you fragging off, old mech?" -the two Seekers
"Well," Raptor said as he glanced at the sagging kid. "That wasn't nice." That was when Raptor cleaned up the floor with both of them. As he did, Smokey the Deeply Unlucky was flying through the air helm over heels to land nearly on his amma's lap.
=0=Court the next orn
Hot Rod considered his position which was teetering between fragged and majorly slagged. He considered if he got enough jail time he wouldn't have to dig out the Temple. Considering that Smokey would have to do it alone, he felt his chains fall away and his spark fly into the sun. Then he bucked up before the judge because that idea, leaving it to Smokey made him tingle all over and he didn't want to jinx anything, the superstitious slagger. "I was dancing, someone said I stepped on their ped and began to pummel me."
"You were the victim?" Harley asked.
Roddy stood ramrod straight. "That's right."
"Then tell me, victim, why did you go back three times for the encounter?" Harley asked.
A slight snicker rounded the room.
Roddy frowned. He had no answer so he threw caution to the wind. "BECAUSE SOMEONE PUNCHED MY FACE! THAT'S WHY!"
Everyone sort of sat back a moment at the intensity of the statement, everyone, that is but Harley. He considered Roddy levelly. "Any witnesses to support your argument?"
"HOW ABOUT ASKING THEM YOURSELF?" Roddy replied.
It was tomb like in the room.
Even Prime blinked.
"Okay. Then you want to assert your word. Maybe if I could believe you for the fight you were still drunk on your aft in public." Harley considered the uptight kid before him. "My, my, my, what would the children say?"
"I can tell you," Roddy said as he squinted in fury at the judge.
"Tell it to the warder. You are guilty and sentenced to ten orns in jail. Three for fighting, one for public drunkenness and six for disrespecting the court. Take him away."
Hot Rod straightened his back and his tattered pride, walking past without glancing at anyone into the doorway nearby that led back to jail. The courtroom was silent, then Harley turned to the two big Seeker mechs. "You are facing drunk and disorderly, fighting in public and assault and battery on another mech. How do you plea?" Harley said with smooth assurance.
How indeed?
=0=TBC 8-8-2020
moneymaker: to a prostitute, its their body. To a dancer or a kept person its their backside. :D Now you're officially corrupted. :D:D