Convoy:

*now that he's out of the washracks, he's back to a default mode of not paying attention to anything - even his whereabouts.  As such, he looks more like he's wandering, than heading directly back to his room*

Dead End:

*trails after, expression the ever-neutral, idly wondering where Convoy is headed*

Convoy:

*after a few wrong turns (that turn more into aimless wanderings, once he realizes he's gotten all turned around), he finally stops at a door, imputing a code and opening the door with a satisfied smile - probably just glad he found it in under 20 minutes, this time*

Dead End:

*Convoy wasn't joking about getting lost, and with a growing amusement Dead End keeps following the mech until he stops in front of what the Stunticon assumes is his quarters*

Convoy:

*even someone as oblivious as Convoy can't help but realize he's got company, finally turning around to blink at Dead End in confusion*  Dead End?  I'm sorry, I didn't notice - did you need something?  *says it in a tone that isn't any different from normal - he's not trying to say "go away" in any sense - that's just not Convoy's style*

Dead End:

No. *he doesn't know why he started shadowing the truck, and he notes it down to think about later. He steps closer, his face softening some as he approaches the bigger mech*

Convoy:

*blinks again, smiling faintly in mild bemusement*  Entertainment, then?  *waves his hand at the open door, leading into a smaller-than-most room*  Pardon me for being rude.  Would you like to come in?

Dead End:

*regards Convoy in silence before nodding* That would be nice. *blandly*

Convoy:

*well, all right then - heads in himself, stepping aside so that there's actually enough room for the other to pass by him, still wearing that curious smile*

Dead End:

*moves even closer and then past Convoy, wondering how the mech fit in this rather small room, even his own quarters was considerably bigger than this. He flicks a glance at the truck, why didn't he request a bigger room?*

Convoy:

*it's tall enough for him to not have to hunch over and big enough so that he can spread his arms out - that's all he needs*  I'm not much for company, I'm afraid - rather a bit distracted most of the time.  *pauses, then adds* Is there anything on your mind, my friend?

Dead End:

*he doesn't have much trouble believing the truck when he says he's distracted. It must be strange having such a short attention span, he muses. And again with the "friend."* Why do you insist on calling me that? *turns to face Convoy*

Convoy:

*blinks* Call you what?

Dead End:

*he's not one to beat around the bush when he wants to know something* "Friend."

Convoy:

*blinks again, then his smile turns less confused and more relaxed*  I won't insist, if you don't want me to call you a friend.  It's simply... *waves a hand, at a loss as to what he should say, moving to lean against a wall - not like that's moving very far*  Would you rather me not?

Dead End:

I want to know why. *he's not giving in until he gets a straight answer*

Convoy:

*lightly*  Because you seem to be a decent person who understands the value of a nice, polished finish, and I generally assume people who continue to associate me after five minutes time to be my friends.

Dead End:

*well, he hadn't expected that reason. Convoy had to be a lonely mech if that last part was any indication* I see.

Convoy:

*nods, because that basically settles that part of the matter as far as he's concerned, repeating his question again with that casual smile still on his face*  Would you rather me not?

Dead End:

*he's at a loss at that one. He reverts back to his trusted stock phrases, twisting it to fit* Do as you wish.

Convoy:

*quirks an optic ridge, still smiling*  You prefer accommodating others, don't you?  It's a good quality to have, sometimes.  *his tone switches just very slightly on "sometimes," but it's less likely that he even noticed him doing it*

Dead End:

*Dead End picks it up, though, he's not that unfamiliar with subtleties* It is easier, in the long run. *he isn't quite sure why he's opening up to Convoy, he's not usually one for personal small talk*

Convoy:

*Convoy's just naturally friendly?  He chuckles a bit*  I'm afraid I'm much the same, with going along to other's wishes, so feel free to take more control over our conversation.  I'm rather easily distracted.

Dead End:

*And Dead End is naturally unfriendly. Apparently opposites do attract, in some way* Have you always been like that?

Convoy:

Distracted? *muses for a moment, then shrugs*  I suppose so.  You'll have to note that I don't remember anything prior to a few months ago.

Dead End:

I recall. *he has a good memory for things. Mechs tend to have that*

Convoy:

*most mechs, at least.  Convoy's... special, remember?*  ...I must confess, though - I'm a little confused as to why you followed me.  *Looks the other over, trying to spot maybe an area he didn't cover with polish?  Maybe that's why...*

Dead End:

*he's a bit confused about that himself. He offers a shrug* I thought you might want company. *never mind that being company is what Dead End does worst*

Convoy:

*he brightens a bit more at that, waving a hand to - well, there's not much, a berth and a chair that looks like it's been dragged from the common room, and pretty much nothing else (other than a few dozen factory-cases of Pepsi piled up in a corner)* If you can, feel free to find a place to sit.  I'd offer you some Pepsi but... I don't think most people around here can really stomach it.  *sounds slightly deflated by that*

Dead End:

*looks between the two options for sitting, not really wanting to use either* We were made for processing energon. *quite logical, of course mechs shouldn't corrupt their systems with this..."Pepsi"*

Convoy:

*nods, not even slightly discouraged by the fact that the other isn't sitting*  So I continuously hear.  *now would be a good time to mention he doesn't actually drink his energon*

Dead End:

*he would be surprised if he knew Convoy didn't drink - didn't need? - energon*

Convoy:

*looks to the cases in mild annoyance*  If I could clear them out, I might have a bit more space in here, but I prefer to have them nearby.

Dead End:

*each mech to his own, he supposes* I see. You are fond of this 'Pepsi'?

Convoy:

Mm... *frowns, contemplating the question, before shrugging and looking back to Dead End*  I am.  Rather a bit more than most things.  *settles against the wall fully*  It does what it does, and it does it without a hitch.  Unlike some things, it doesn't change.  *again with that tone on "some"*

Dead End:

*is more and more fascinated by Convoy. He wasn't really like any mech he had encountered before* Unlike your life? *direct, yes*

Convoy:

Ahh.  My life stays relatively static.  It's the people around me changing that causes... problems.  *appreciates a bit of directness - he isn't exactly a subtle guy, here*

Dead End:

*mulls the answer over* And you are unhappy by this. *statement, that* How do they change?

Convoy:

...They place leashes on you.  I'm rather a curious person - I like to know what might be going on, especially if it involves me.  It's nothing particularly important, but when people attempt to force me down roads I do not want to go down?  I don't personally enjoy it.  *looks rather mild about the whole thing*

Dead End:

*he knows all about leashes - both figuratively and physically* No one likes to be forced. *he knows all about that too*

Convoy:

They really don't.  It's unfortunate when other people assume that they can lead you to do things you'd rather not.  It creates...  Unneeded complications.

Dead End:

That is the nature of life, alas. You cannot make your own choices when it has already been made for you.

Convoy:

*smiles lightly* Assuming they have more choice in the matter than you do, yes.  I prefer to believe... that nothing is quite certain.

Dead End:

Why is that? *curious tone*

Convoy:

Because if everything were certain, then I wouldn't be nearly as curious about things I'm not allowed to be curious about.  *idly*  Nor would I get annoyed over such an idea.

Dead End:

Then you are annoyed by it as well? Hm. *gets a slightly absent look*

Convoy:

It's one of the very few things that doesn't sit right with me.

Dead End:

Really. *thoughtful*

Convoy:

I...  *trails off, optics dimming slightly before coming back as bright as ever; he gives Dead End a bright smile*  I don't mind it, though.  Things will fix themselves, eventually, if you keep working on it.

Dead End:

*keeps watching Convoy, what the mech was saying was everything the Porsche didn't* And what if you tire of it? *really, the truck was a bit too cheerful for his own good*

Convoy:

*idly* Ignore it until it goes away?  I'm not sure; I haven't quite gotten to the point of exasperation yet.  *at all.  ever.*

Dead End:

*Convoy was extraordinary in his own little ways, Dead End decided* Avoid the trouble like it is avoiding you.

Convoy:

*nods, still smiling, though not quite as wide*  Eventually, it moves on to things that will actually give it the satisfaction of a reaction.

Dead End:

*light smirk, he was all too familiar about that, being the master passive or something to that effect* It does.

Convoy:

*he looks at the other after a moment, slightly curious expression on his face*  You seem rather interested by my responses.  I don't mind it, but... I admit, it confuses me a bit.  Most lose interest by now.  *doesn't sound particularly phased by that*

Dead End:

*isn't too sure why he finds Convoy so fascinating, it must be something about his...innocence? Freshness?* I find you intriguing. *more directness, neutral sort of voice*

Convoy:

Intriguing?  *a little amused at that*  There's not very much to me, I'm afraid.

Dead End:

It may be the simplest of things that finally captures a mech's interest. *almost blandly, but not quite*

Convoy:

*not exactly used to compliments - or, at least, a roundabout compliment like the one Dead End has given him - so he's not sure what to say.  So, he settles for simplicity.*  I'm glad.

Dead End:

For what? *doesn't see what the other can possibly have to be glad about. Then again, this IS Convoy, seemingly made up of cheerfulness and Pepsi*

Convoy:

That I interest you.  *shrugs slightly, shifting against the wall slightly*  It's not often that people are honestly interested by me beyond my finish.

Dead End:

It will fade or rust so I see little reason for me to become interested in it. *and he doesn't, really*

Convoy:

*mildly*  It won't, if I continue to keep care of it.  Still, it's nice to know.  *tilts his head slightly - he's starting to realize that he told Dead End more of himself than the other way around, which is the natural progression of things*

Dead End:

*Convoy had just missed his point completely, but most mechs tended to do so. Poor slagheaps* What do you do, besides offering waxes? *brutal change of topic, here we come!*

Convoy:

*blinks, then laughs a bit*  I don't do much of anything, to be honest.  I don't usually "offer waxes," either.  I just... wander.  *get lost, more accurately, but there's not much of a difference between the two*

Dead End:

You wander? *the mech couldn't just spend hours and hours wandering, could he?* Where do you wander to?

Convoy:

When I first arrived here, most of the time I was just exploring the base - but now that I've gotten a little more accustomed to the area, I tend to go out on the highway.  *smiles* A long, leisurely drive does wonders for you.  And when there are good people surrounding you on the road, it can be wonderful.

Dead End:

*mmm, yes, he knew the wonder of the highway, and the enjoyment one could get from ruining other cars and speeding away from the human law enforcement. He smirks as he remembers the last trip he did, with Wildrider* Yes, the highway can be quite fulfilling.

Convoy:

*Convoy more or less just drives around and uses his truck radio to talk to other truckers, so he wouldn't know the thrill of racing down the freeway causing havoc*  Generally, that's all I do.  I sometimes go into the common room, but it's usually either deserted or in the middle of a fight, lately.

Dead End:

*drive, wander and common rooming? Sounds boring, but there isn't much to do on this planet either way* Yes, the interfactional tensions seems to have increased. But that is not one of my concerns, the war either will or will not end, regardless of what we want.

Convoy:

It would make things easier for everyone if the fighting stopped.  *scoffs* Paintjobs wouldn't be ruined, and it would be far more entertaining.  I found the common room games a bit more fun than the constant brawls.  *laughs a bit* Then again, my opinions are hardly of importance.

Dead End:

Perhaps. I am sure there would always be something to destroy a mech's finish. *thoughtfully* Why are they not? Are you not as much of a mech as any other Cybertronian on this base?

Convoy:

I... *frowns a bit, bemused*  I assumed that the decisions were made by the... Autobots and Decepticons.  Not those without factions.

Dead End:

*that answered what faction the truck belonged in, at least* There is the third faction.

Convoy:

Third faction?  *his frown deepens a bit more*  I had just gotten used to the concept of factions in general.  Oh well, I suppose I'll simply have to do more research.  Not that there's much available, beyond the journals...  In either case, my opinions have probably been echoed by those with more pull.  *smiles*  They'll do what is best, I assume.

Dead End:

*tilts head fractionally* You have just gotten used to factions? Elaborate.

Convoy:

...I understood the concept of factions, as a term, but the two factions located here... *waves a hand to indicate the base as a whole* I needed to study them.  I still don't understand the finer differences and points of the two, but I at least understand the separation between them.

Dead End:

*quirks an optic brow at that* You do not understand. *finds this a bit difficult to believe*

Convoy:

I understand that there was a war, and either side of the battle had their reasons for continuing to fight... But no, I suppose I really don't. *lightly*

Dead End:

*a frown grows on his face* What is there not to understand?

Convoy:

The point of war, I suppose.  *mild*  I find I prefer peaceful negotiations to physical violence, when it can be achieved.

Dead End:

I see. *faceplates settles back into their default, passive state*

Convoy:

Still... *his optics dim again, slightly* I suppose there wasn't much choice.  Sometimes, these things happen.

Dead End:

There is not anything one can do to prevent it, or so I feel.

Convoy:

...Maybe not.  I'm not sure.  *his facial expression returns to the normal smile*  Then again, I can't remember anything from beyond a few months ago.  I doubt I'm the most knowledgeable mind on this particular subject.

Dead End:

It is always useful to have an outside look on things.

Convoy:

...Then what is your opinion on the matter?  Other than its inevitability.

Dead End:

I think it is pointless, as it does not matter what we do.

Convoy:

*chuckles*  If it were all pointless, we wouldn't all have the urge to affect our surroundings as much as we do.  Then again, I may be wrong.  *looks at the other curiously*  But, wouldn't you rather try to change things for the better?

Dead End:

*doesn't bother to point out that personally Dead End doesn't have the urge to affect anything* Why should I?

Convoy:

*shrugs slightly*  The desire to have a happy life?  Boredom?

Dead End:

I have other outlets should I be bothered by boredom.

Convoy:

I suppose, if I had other outlets myself, I probably wouldn't notice things like this so much.  *idly*  But... You really have no mind to change things?

Dead End:

No. *no hesitation* It is not up to me how things proceed, so I would rather not waste energy on trying to attempt something so futile.

Convoy:

I suppose I can understand that.  *chuckles again*  To each their own, I suppose?

Dead End:

I suppose. *light shrug*

Convoy:

...*falls silent, processors starting to switch track - he's kind of surprised that he was able to focus on a conversation for that long.  Still, other things are nagging at him, like...*  Forgive me if this is out of line, or you simply don't want to talk about it, but... I'm curious.  What did I do to upset you, in the washrack?

Dead End:

*the frown from earlier returns* You were unresponsive. *figures the mech at least deserves to know his opinion*

Convoy:

...I thought I had gotten a full night's rest.  I must've been mistaken...  *looks down, thinking about it for a moment, before looking back up*  I apologize again.  *laughs, looking slightly embarrassed*  I suppose I should be grateful I woke up before I fell over or something.

Dead End:

*optics narrow in thought - was this mech really that clueless? Granted, he was a sparkling, but still... * I do not think it had anything with you getting enough rest.

Convoy:

*pauses at that - generally, any discrepancies in his actions or attitudes can be written off with a good night's rest.  He hasn't even seen a medic since his initial check-in, and he's not even sure what the medic's name was.*  I don't see what else it could be.

Dead End:

*Convoy truly was fascinating. He gets up and walks over to where the bigger mech is standing, just a couple of feet away from him as he looks up into the other's optics* You do not know?

Convoy:

*looks down at the other, quirking an optic ridge*  Know what, precisely?

Dead End:

*puts his hands on Convoy's hips, but doesn't make any attempt to trace any seams* You do not. Overload?

Convoy:

*keeps watching Dead End - and you know, this is another one of those words he really just doesn't know*  I'm afraid that, if that term has a definition other than what is provided on the internet, I don't know what you're talking about.

Dead End:

*quirks an optic brow, marvelous creature indeed* What did the internet have to say about it?

Convoy:

..."To load to excess; an excessive load; an electrical load that exceeds the available electrical power; to fill to excess so that function is impaired."  As well as the recommendation of a pop song.  *sounding a bit more curious than before*

Dead End:

*nods to that, it sounded like something the internet would say* So what do you think it is?

Convoy:

An excess of information unto the point of impairment.  *which is really just a rehashing of the definitions into one sentence, but that's what it means, right?  At least, as far as Convoy can tell.*

Dead End:

*nods again, the mech was right, in that aspect of things* Do you know what it involves, between mechs?

Convoy:

*if you're expecting anything beyond a blank stare... you're sorely mistaken.*  Isn't it what I just said?

Dead End:

*mental sigh, this wasn't really what Dead End had had in mind when he had agreed to that free wax* Astonishing.

Convoy:

*hey, no one made Dead End follow Convoy!*  ...What's so astonishing?

Dead End:

You. *simplicity ftw, especially when it comes to Convoy*

Convoy:

*laughs a bit*  I really don't know where you're getting these opinions of me.  There's nothing particularly astonishing or interesting about me.

Dead End:

No. You are... truly one of a kind.

Convoy:

*it's not often that people make Convoy vaguely bashful about himself, but Dead End's certainly doing a good job of it.*  I must make a note to keep doing whatever it is I'm doing, if it's something that garners praise like this from you.

Dead End:

Praise? *at this, the sports car really does tilt his head*

Convoy:

Astonishing, interesting?  Generally, words like those are considered praise.  Compliments.  *bemused*  They are, generally, are they not?

Dead End:

They could be used with alternative interpretations in mind, but perhaps they are complimental as well.

Convoy:

*...right.  So they're compliments!*  Assuming that you meant them in their proper usage, thank you.

Dead End:

*lifts chin slightly, looking directly into Convoy's optics* You are welcome.

Convoy:

*his processors drop back to the previous topic, and Convoy frowns in confusion*  What were you talking about, just before?  "Overload?"

Dead End:

It is just as you yourself said. *slight smirk* Excess data.

Convoy:

Ah.  *nods a little, then blinks*  Is that what happened to me, then?  And why wouldn't rest solve such a problem?

Dead End:

It has nothing to do with rest. And you did not.

Convoy:

...Then what does it have to do with anything?  *sighs*  Forgive me, I'm not very good at understanding things right away.

Dead End:

*Dead End has noticed that* You drove me into overload.

Convoy:

*frowns*  And that's... bad.

Dead End:

Have you taken other mechs into that washrack of yours?

Convoy:

*blinks*  Yes - Tracks.  What does that have to do with anything?

Dead End:

Did he act strangely, by any chance?

Convoy:

Not... particularly?  A little stressed, but that was fairly the point of the wash in the first place.  *his processors are also trying to rewind back to that particular day, but it was an awfully long time ago, in Convoy standards.*

Dead End:

He did not... do anything resembling what I did?

Convoy:

...What did you do?  *and now he's starting to get a little worried, since there's quite a gap in his memories of the shower, and he doesn't quite remember anything except for Dead End getting annoyed at him over something he did while passed out...*

Dead End:

I overloaded. From the sensory input. *gives the mech a slightly incredulous look*

Convoy:

....And again, that's bad, correct?  *completely confused*

Dead End:

It may be both. *thick-headed mech, Convoy was*

Convoy:

*not thick, just oblivious!*  Then... should I be apologizing?  ....I'm sorry, Dead End.  I'm just... *sounding slightly embarrassed, really* Not very good at understanding these kinds of things...

Dead End:

*Dead End has painfully noted that, yes* You are simply too... new, Pepsi Convoy. You have not yet experienced all that comes with being a mechanical being, should we say.

Convoy:

New... *frowns, mulling over that.  He doesn't... feel new.  Just... very forgetful.*  Perhaps so...  Forgive me, then, Dead End.  *chuckles*  I must come off as quite naive.

Dead End:

Yes, to a certain extent. You are, however-- *grip on the mech's hip tighten* --unique.

Convoy:

*looks briefly down at Dead End's hands, then back at the mech himself*  I imagine uniqueness can only get you so far around here, considering the company we keep.

Dead End:

*grip loosens* Yes. This place do not fare kindly with uniqueness. *faint frown* It is too bad.

Convoy:

*smiles*  It could be worse.  There could be no unique people around at all.  *chuckles slightly*  Then I'd hardly be interesting to you, would I?

Dead End:

That is not up to me to decide, Pepsi Convoy. *and without the special something Convoy wouldn't be Convoy, Dead End thought* Or do you think otherwise?

Convoy:

*gives a half shrug, looking rather nonchalant*  I think everyone is allowed to make decisions, for better or worse.

Dead End:

So I see. *thoughtfully, presses himself closer to the truck, before pulling away and out of Convoy's personal space, if the mech had any*

Convoy:

*frowns at that - he does have personal space, but really, he's more wondering at this moment if he's saying the wrong things or upsetting the other again*  Is that a problem?

Dead End:

Should it be? *regards the larger mech*

Convoy:

...I'm not sure.  You're rather hard to gauge, to be honest, Dead End.  *still frowning slightly*

Dead End:

*says Convoy* Would you rather me be more like yourself? More... open?

Convoy:

*contemplates that a moment, looking at Dead End* ...I'm not sure.  Your personality is different from mine, and I won't begrudge you that.  Everyone is different.

Dead End:

That they are. *optics dim briefly, as he is reminded of something* What do you want?

Convoy:

*there's an interesting question.  What does Convoy want?*  ...I'm not sure there's much of anything I want in particular.  I mostly just want to make others feel better.  *chuckles*  I rather like helping others over myself.

Dead End:

Why? Does it make you feel like you have a purpose in this pointless life? *back to passive voice again*

Convoy:

*shakes his head a little, smiling slightly now*  I just like to help.

Dead End:

*well that was helpful* Why not destroy instead?

Convoy:

*frowns again, optics dimming slightly*  Destruction isn't something I enjoy.  Being nice to others...  Seeing others happy because of what I've done for them, that is something I like.

Dead End:

Why do you not enjoy it? The screech of metal as it gives... it is quite satisfying.

Convoy:

*shrugs once again, still looking at Dead End*  To each their own.  I simply... Prefer making others happy.

Dead End:

Will you do anything to make them so? *lifts brow to emphasize the question*

Convoy:

If it's in my power, I suppose so.  *smiles* I might as well try to help, if I'm around, after all.

Dead End:

*smirks at that* But you are held back by your... morals.

Convoy:

Morals?  *blinks, doing a search-* ...."The judgment of the goodness or badness of action and character" - I'm not sure I really understand how those might hold me back from helping others.

Dead End:

Have you ever considered how others might want your help? *still smirking* Would you pull off someone's wings if it made me happy?

Convoy:

...It really would depend on whose wings, wouldn't it?

Dead End:

Really, now. *intrigued by that* Fireflight's, for example. Would you? For me?

Convoy:

....I don't know who Fireflight is.  *mildly*  I don't know if I even would have the force required to remove them.

Dead End:

I see. *optics narrow slightly* But would you try?

Convoy:

...*contemplates the idea - really, hurt someone to make another person happy?*  Would the act be what made you happy?  Or would it be because you couldn't do it yourself?

Dead End:

*more narrowing* This is not about me. Would you do it? It is a simple yes or no answer.

Convoy:

*frowns* But it is about you.

Dead End:

Is it. *coolly*

Convoy:

*nods* Yes.  The only determining factor in whether or not I would do it is your feelings on the matter.  If it wouldn't truly make you happy, then I wouldn't want to do it.  I do things that make others happy, not simply because I can or want to do it.  *quietly* Would it matter if it were Fireflight, or would anyone do?  Has Fireflight done something to upset you, to hurt you?

Dead End:

Would it matter? He has beaten me and my combiner brothers, does that make you more certain of your choice?

Convoy:

*his tone changes slightly, almost as though he understands he's explaining something that could be alien to the other*  I only do things that will make others happy.  I do not do anything that wouldn't make someone happy.

Dead End:

And if there was an conflict of interest? One would be happy and one would not? *eyes the mech as he says it*

Convoy:

Then it depends on who I care for more, doesn't it?

Dead End:

I see. *he sinks into a thoughtful silence'

Convoy:

*watches Dead End, more contemplating the idea of pain making somebody happy - the idea of violence leading to joy confuses him more than he'd like to admit*

Dead End:

*is a Stunticon - the mere thought of wreaking havoc brings him joy, as much joy as Dead End is capable of feeling, at least* Then it all comes down to your personal perspective. Would you not regret it if you came to like your victim later?

Convoy:

I doubt it.  Things in the past are hardly something to be regret.  *smiles*  You may be able to change the future, but changing the past?  Impossible.  Best to simply admit when you're wrong and continue forward.

Dead End:

You do not dwell, then, on previous actions? *hmms and nods* And yet you wish to make the future better.

Convoy:

To be honest, the past has seemed to be too... elusive for me.  I don't remember things.  The future is what can change, and therefore, that is where I place most of my efforts.  Acknowledging previous errors allows you to let go of the old, and make adjustments for the new.  Holding onto them, however, just holds you back yourself.

Dead End:

And if you cannot change the future? What then, Pepsi Convoy? *eyes the mech*

Convoy:

...Attempting to change something doesn't assure you that it will change at all, but it's better, to me, if you try and fail, than not try at all.  *nods a bit, kind of affirming the idea to himself - this is all relatively new territory for him, considering the time he spends not thinking about serious business*

Dead End:

Even if it is useless to even try? You do not care about that either. You live in the here and now.

Convoy:

It's never completely useless.  *lightly*  Everything changes.  Maybe not for the best, but it always changes.

Dead End:

And if it changes for the worse you just prevail?

Convoy:

If it changes for the worse... Then it's time to admit you've done something wrong and try again.

Dead End:

*frowns* And you live by this.

Convoy:

I... It's how I feel.  I don't know if I always follow it to its deepest meaning, but I do try.  *chuckles*  Nobody's perfect, after all.

Dead End:

Indeed. *muses* And yet you want them to look as such.

Convoy:

*brightly* Looking perfect is part of being perfect.  If our actions can't always be perfect, at the very least we can look it.

Dead End:

*is starting to suspect that Convoy will never run out of cheerfulness* Yes, we can. *light smirk, albeit it's less arrogant and more satisfied*

Convoy:

And, in either case... *shrugs again, leaning back against the wall slightly* I can't say I don't enjoy a good polishing.  Whether or not it makes one perfect... It still feels good.  *smiles, almost thoughtfully, but he's got nothing left to really say on the matter*

Dead End:

It does. *amusement by the double meaning there, but he doubts Convoy will pick it up - so far he hasn't been the mech for subtleties*

Convoy:

*nope, not really.  Convoy kind of relaxes against the wall, looking more at ease than he already had been - quite content to share the small roomspace with Dead End for however long the other was entertained by him*

Dead End:

*Has no intention of leaving soon, he can be lenient with his personal space if he chooses so. He glances around the room again* Why do you not change to a bigger room?

Convoy:

*blinks*  I wasn't aware I could.  *then chuckles, tilting his head to look at the room a bit more thoroughly*  Though, it isn't so small that I feel confined.  I'm rarely here, in any case.

Dead End:

So I see. *the room wasn't exactly looking like it was often used* You wander, instead. *he steps closer to the other mech again, looking up at him with a thoughtful expression*

Convoy:

*nods*  Mostly.  Whether inside the base, or on the road, but I do prefer walking to sitting in here.  *makes a dismissive motion with his hand*  It's rather silly to sit in your room alone when there are things to see outside of it.

Dead End:

There are mechs who prefer their privacy. *is almost brushing against Convoy's chestplate, now, face still tilted upwards*

Convoy:

*looking at Dead End mildly, head tilted down to keep better optic-contact*  I don't mind having my own space, but I understand the desire to have friends around sometimes.

Dead End:

*tips his head slightly to the side, not moving any closer* Friends? I suppose they do come in handy when you need help.

Convoy:

*blinks*  Help... yes, I suppose.  *contemplates that a moment, then shrugs slightly*  Or simply when you want company.

Dead End:

Company. *heh. Friends indeed. That was an Autobot thing* And you desire company. *is leaning slightly upwards, now*

Convoy:

*Prime didn't want him as an Autobot.*  I do enjoy company.  I've enjoyed talking to you, after all.

Dead End:

Have you? *still moving higher*

Convoy:

Mm.  It's nice to be able to talk on open grounds.  *he's noticing now that the other's moving, but it's not threatening, and he hardly feels like he should be wary around Dead End, after all*

Dead End:

I see. *and with that, he leans up enough to reach Convoy's face, giving him a rather gentle kiss, considering the Stunticon's knack for violence and crudeness*

Convoy:

*blinks at the move - not really expecting that, considering the previous talk, but he goes along with it, returning it with an easy tilt of his head*

Dead End:

*he deepens it some, but still not nearly close enough to how he usually kisses - which is crushing and hard. He places his hands back on Convoy's hips to keep himself steady*

Convoy:

*he shifts his arms to be less in the way, letting one hand drop against Dead End's side, loosely holding on to the other, neither pulling in nor pushing away*

Dead End:

*nips at the truck's lower lip, optics gone dim in their color, but his hands remain relaxed, merely touching*

Convoy:

*his engine picks up its quiet hum a bit at that, at a standstill for the moment - he doesn't push in, but he's not complaining at the contact*

Dead End:

*breaks the kiss, slowly pulling away, but still near enough Convoy's face to easily initiate contact again, optics still that darker than usual color'

Convoy:

*meets those darked optics with his own, bright ones, mildly curious*  Do I take this to mean you've enjoyed talking to me as well, then?

Dead End:

*something that could always be thought of as a smile appears on his face* Perhaps.

Convoy:

*smiles now*  Wonderful.  I'm afraid you really are a bit hard to read... I can't tell if I bore you or not, with my idle rambling.

Dead End:

*the not-quite-smile stays, and he doesn't move away* I believe I told you earlier that you intrigue me.

Convoy:

Mm, you did say so.  Some people, however, prefer to tell half-truths, rather than be honest if it might hurt another.  I was simply making sure that wasn't the case here.  *his hand on the other's side twitches slightly, without Convoy even noticing the movement*

Dead End:

I do not bother with such measures. *stares into Convoy's optics*

Convoy:

*looks back in mild amusement, now*  I'm starting to notice that, Dead End.

Dead End:

What else have you started to notice, Pepsi Convoy? *optics narrow, very slightly*

Convoy:

*still amused* That you're rather severe, though not enough to be annoyed by my naivety.  *a little curiously, now*  And very patient.  Which, I admit, is a blessing.

Dead End:

You are not accustomed to patience in mechs? *faint frown*

Convoy:

Most of them tend to not tolerate my rambling or knack for getting distracted.  *smiles slightly*  Though, I seem to have been more concentrated today than normal.

Dead End:

Perhaps they do not see the same that I do. *that almost-smile fades, replaced by the normal passive* I would not know.

Convoy:

*blinks* What is there to see, beyond the Pepsi decals?  *honestly curious - to him, there isn't anything more to him*

Dead End:

Enough to keep my interest. It is difficult to explain.

Convoy:

*laughs a bit* That's a first... I'm not particularly used to being categorized as "difficult."  I thought I was rather simple.

Dead End:

*edges of mouth curls upwards as he muses* The simplest of things may very well be the most complex of all. *still inches away from Convoy's face*

Convoy:

I suppose...  *he tilts his head in agreement, bringing it closer to Dead End's for the moment*

Dead End:

*doesn't move back, faces so close they are almost touching* Do you no trust me or my words?

Convoy:

*idly* I haven't yet seen a reason not to trust you.

Dead End:

Then you ought to believe what I say.

Convoy:

*hums slightly*  I do.

Dead End:

Very well. *closes what little distance remains, pressing lips together in another kiss*

Convoy:

*his hand twitches again, tightening briefly against Dead End's frame, and he tilts his head more, making for a better angle*

Dead End:

*his engine makes a low, approving sound, pressing himself a bit closer to the bigger mech*

Convoy:

*Dead End seems to want this, so he strengthens his grip on the other's side, bending over slightly to make less it less of a stretch for the other, engine still humming lowly*

Dead End:

*his own grip turns firmer, but doesn't aim for any seams to trace or dig into this time. deepens the kiss as Convoy leans down*

Convoy:

*he only takes the kiss as far as Dead End does; the concept of kissing itself is easy enough to manage, but the idea behind it - what it might mean, what it stands for?  That's all lost on a guy like Convoy*

Dead End:

*has no problems with being in control, so to speak, and he keeps it at this stage, engine giving a content little purr*

Convoy:

*brings his other hand up, resting it on the tire on one of Dead End's shoulders, fingers twitching a bit against the treads, but in almost unconscious movement*

Dead End:

*slides his hands around the mech, letting them dwell on the mech's backside, still hip-high*

Convoy:

*shifts away from the wall, coming to rest his weight on his feet once more, both hands clenching slightly against Dead End - he brings his face down more, deepening the kiss only slightly, and almost by accident*

Dead End:

*hmm, so this was the way to make Convoy respond. Interesting, very interesting... he doesn't break the kiss, lightly pulling Convoy closer to himself*

Convoy:

*moves easily, stepping up closer to Dead End, keeping the same level of care over the other as he had while in the washrack - all he's looking for is what makes the other happy, and if moving around, getting closer is what does it...*

Dead End:

*whether it is from the failed attempt from before, or just that he now is more confident where he has the mech is unclear, but he doesn't go for the interfacing as he normally would, taking enjoyment in making Convoy react to him in this way instead. It was fascinating, in a way, how different the truck was. He slides his hands up the other's back, touch light*

Convoy:

*his engine brings up its volume for the briefest moment, just barely - almost unnoticeably, really - and Convoy smoothes his fingers along the tread of the tire underhand, just doing whatever his processors suggest*

Dead End:

*motoric purr deepens, not all that opposed to the little tingles lighting up his sensory grid - it's an unusual feeling, really. Lets fingers explore the other's back*

Convoy:

*moves his hand along Dead End's side, dragging fingertips against metal - he's getting the chance to relax with a friend, and so he takes it as such, going at the same leisurely rate the other seems to be taking*

Dead End:

*tugs the other closer, gently so, whatever has happened to the Dead End we all know and love? One hand locate a ridge, tracing it curiously*

Convoy:

*intakes sputter, fans speeding slightly at the touch, dragging fingertips along armor idly - he wanders in more than one sense of the word, apparently*

Dead End:

*apparently Convoy was able - in theory - achieve overload. Dead End wasn't really in the mood to find out, though. He keeps stroking with his hand, the other keeps exploring.*

Convoy:

*theories are tricky things.  Convoy keeps himself close, trailing fingers along seams aimlessly - he has no real purpose or reason to be doing any of this, other than the fact that he simply thinks it will make Dead End happy*

Dead End:

*is probably too ruined to feel truly happy, but it doesn't hurt to try. With a nip on Convoy's lower lip he breaks the kiss, staring into the truck's optics with narrowed optics - whether they are so in threat or thought is not entirely clear*

Convoy:

*smiles lightly and stills his hands, meeting Dead End's narrowed optics with bright blue ones - he's not sure exactly if he should say anything, so he just keeps quiet for the moment*

Dead End:

*continues to regard the other, but eventually breaks the silence with a calmly asked question* What are you?

Convoy:

*still smiling*  I am Pepsi Convoy.  That's all.

Dead End:

What are you?

Convoy:

*blinks*  What do you mean, what am I?  As far as I know, I'm simply me.  Protector and preserver of the name of Pepsi Cola?  Your friend?  I'm not sure which answer is best applied in this situation.

Dead End:

*doesn't look satisfied with the answer*

Convoy:

*repeats*  I'm not sure which answer you would prefer, my friend, and I apologize.

Dead End:

*isn't too sure either, but he doesn't let that show* I am not asking for who you are. But what you are.

Convoy:

...I'm fairly sure what I am is defined by who I am.  But I suppose - I'm just another being on the planet.  Specifics may be vague for the both of us, but that doesn't change the basics, does it?

Dead End:

The two might be connected. And you are content to be 'just another being'? You do not wish to know of your origins?

Convoy:

I do want to know more.  *frowns at that, optics dimming slightly as he thinks*  But... certain restrictions have been placed on me at the moment.  I'm not sure yet how to work past them.  I will, eventually, but it will take time.  *optics brighten again*  I'm patient.

Dead End:

What restrictions, if I may ask? *surprisingly light tone*

Convoy:

Simply... *pauses, trying to think of a way to put it*  ...I've hit a slightly stubborn roadblock.  It will bend, eventually, if I'm persistent enough.

Convoy:

*pauses again, then adds*  I suppose it might seem a little foolish, to simply wait for an opportunity...  *looks at Dead End in curiosity*  But, are you really so interested in this?  *there's no hint of any accusations in his tone - he's just curious; no one really cares enough to ask about his personal "problems"*

Dead End:

Should I not care? *sounds maybe a tiny bit offended*

Convoy:

I'm glad that you're interested, Dead End.  I'm simply... not used to personal questions.  *doesn't miss the slightly offended tone, and squeezes the other's side slightly, as if trying to comfort Dead End*

Dead End:

You are not? Then what do you talk about with your friends? *slight intonation on the last word. He notes the change in pressure on his side, but doesn't quite know what to put behind it*

Convoy:

...To be honest, I generally keep to small talk.  *chuckles*  I want my friends happy, and generally, problems of any sort - whether theirs or mine - tend to make them unhappy.  I try to help distract from problems when I'm around.

Dead End:

Do you not have problems yourself?

Convoy:

I do have...  Issues.  But I'm quite good at managing them by myself, and I don't like to make my friends unhappy with my own burdens.

Dead End:

And yet you want them to do it. Do you not see the unfairness of what you are doing?

Convoy:

I prefer to have others talk to me about their own problems.  It makes things... simpler for them.  I don't intend to be fair - my only wish is to make others happy.

Dead End:

What about your own happiness? Does it mean nothing to you? And do not tell me making others happy is enough.

Convoy:

*had been just about to say that, but he stops and thinks for a moment* ...I don't mind being unhappy.  I'd rather others be happy instead.

Dead End:

And so you shoulder all of their problems. Regardless. *he eyes the mech* I have a... friend. Would you like to hear about his problems as well?

Convoy:

If it can help, of course.  *lightly*

Dead End:

My friend is often disciplined. He does not satisfy his leader. He is usually ripped apart when he fails to carry out a simple order, and this has always been. What would you do to bring him happiness?

Convoy:

...*frowns, optics dimming as he thinks it over* ...Why?

Dead End:

Why you would do it?

Convoy:

Why would his leader discipline him so harshly?

Convoy:

A friend of yours would, most likely, be a friend of mine, Dead End.  That isn't the problem.

Dead End:

He lacks discipline. That is why.

Dead End:

Why else would he be punished?

Convoy:

I am trying to understand that.  *looks at Dead End calmly*  Discipline has a limit.  Beyond discipline lies... control.  A control one should not give anyone over themselves.  *says it with a quiet kind of... conviction*  A leader is someone who guides you, but does not...  *his frown deepens* ...I would not let him be hurt.  If your friend needs help, he is welcome to come to me.  I will do what I have to to help him.

Dead End:

*bit bemused by the guiding part. A leader was one that led you, held you in place* And what if you cannot help him? Cannot stop him from being hurt?

Convoy:

I will still try.

Dead End:

And if it would be out of line?

Dead End:

What if the help was not justified?

Convoy:

Not justified by whose standards?

Dead End:

*frowns* In his and his leader's standards.

Convoy:

Their standards are not mine to worry about.  I do not like my friends being hurt.  I do whatever I can to keep it from happening.

Dead End:

Even if he would get disciplined?

Convoy:

He would not get disciplined if I were with him.  *firmly*

Dead End:

And why not?

Convoy:

Because I would be willing to... *frowns slightly in recollection*  ...Pull off Fireflight's wings if it would help a friend of mine.  I hardly suspect your friend's leader has wings, as those aren't very common... But I believe the meaning is the same, is it not?

Dead End:

*has slowly been shifting into a carefully neutral posture and tone* What if your friend deserved the disciplinary measures? A leader's job is to keep his subordinates obedient.

Convoy:

A leader's job is to keep his subordinates...  A leader is supposed to guide their underlings to great heights, not beat them into submission.  *both of his hands clench slightly against Dead End, but it's more instinctual than anything*

Dead End:

*doesn't quite miss the tightening of Convoy's hands* Very well. How can a leader guide them to great heights if they do not follow his command? *how else would someone follow someone else, if they hadn't been beaten into loyalty?* He would be a poor leader, indeed.

Convoy:

Beating someone up is no way to gain respect.  *firmly, again, with a slightly hard edge to his voice*  Controlling is not the same as leading.

Dead End:

It is not? Then why does my friend follow his commander? *still very neutral*

Convoy:

...Because...  *optics offline briefly, before coming back on, dimmed slightly*  I do not know.

Dead End:

Then perhaps you are wrong. His leader is a good, strong one, capable of leading them to greatness.

Convoy:

No one who beats those who follow him is good.  Does your friend not know independence?  Freedom?  Does he know how to say no?  *sounds slightly strained*  Does he follow orders not because they're orders but because that's what he wants?  A real leader fosters loyalty, not blind obedience.

Dead End:

Then how would you enforce obedience? Leniency is not a quality a leader should inhabit. A subordinate wants what his leader want. A real leader make mechs follow him, do serve his cause.

Convoy:

I... *his hands tighten again*  You do not make them, you let them decide for themselves!

Dead End:

*is well-prepared to take any potential beating straight-faced* That is the sign of a weak leader. How can a commander keep his troops serving his cause without showing them his strength?

Convoy:

*starting to sound almost desperate - like he needs the other to understand where he's coming from*  There are other methods, Dead End.  Strength of spirit, of will, not of might - there are others to take that out on.  There are those you intend to lead others against.  You should never be hurt by your own leader.

Dead End:

*alas, Convoy misses the mark by miles* They are less effective, if they even work at all. Who would want to follow a leader lacking in might? The strongest should wield command, only then will he be able to truly lead.

Convoy:

Does he need to show his might by abusing those under his command?  Why doesn't he simply show them using the enemy?  There...  *squeezes his hands again, tightly, and then pulls Dead End up against him, moving his hands to wrap around his shoulders and lower back, leaning down, closer now to Dead End's audios*  Your friend shouldn't be hurt.  *sounding strained again*  He shouldn't be hurt because his leader wants to control, not lead him.  Tell him he has a choice.

Dead End:

*doesn't fight the other's restraining hold on him, but his relaxed posture has an undercurrent of tenseness. Calmly, as if he was explaining it to a new-fledged Decepticon* They will rebel if he does not exert his power. And he has no choice. His loyalty is absolute. An appendage does not feel pain nor suffering.

Convoy:

*keeps his hold loose, just in case Dead End really doesn't want to be this close to him or isn't truly that interested in his own annoyances and problems, but he doesn't let go*  They won't rebel if they trust him.  And if that were true - if an appendage didn't feel... he wouldn't have told you what happens to him.  You wouldn't have told me.  You - you wouldn't feel worried for him enough to tell me.  *quietly*

Dead End:

You trust a powerful leader. *he falls silent for a moment* He does not. And I do not. Why would I worry?

Convoy:

....Because it hurts.

Dead End:

*frowns, what was Convoy talking about?* What hurts?

Convoy:

Seeing a friend beaten up.  Perhaps because he deserves it - most likely not.  And...  A truly powerful leader doesn't need to abuse his control.

Dead End:

He is skilled enough to accept and live through it. Pain is no stranger to soldiers. And is it abusing? To show someone what their leader is capable of?

Convoy:

He shouldn't accept it.  *still quiet*  He shouldn't have to accept it.  No one should accept that.  Would you?

Dead End:

*would he be loyal to Motormaster?* Yes. I would.

Convoy:

You would take a beating over being allowed to follow because you believe in the cause your leader believes in?  I...  *gives Dead End a light squeeze*  I don't know what to say...  I just - if your friend ever needs me - if you ever need me.  If either of you want help.  I will help.

Dead End:

It is discipline, not a simple thing like beating. *his hands on Convoy's back twitches at that squeeze* You want me to rebel against my own commander?

Convoy:

*tenses, and pulls back slightly - not moving his hands; just moving to look Dead End in the optics*  You...?

Dead End:

*stares back, realizing his slip-up, stance getting slightly defensive* Yes? What about me?

Convoy:

*optics dim and his hands squeeze tight again, making no effort to come off as looming or threatening*  ...You didn't need to say it was a friend.  My opinion is the same.

Dead End:

It was a thesis. *still doesn't make an attempt to break away*

Convoy:

Dead End...  *frowns* ...My request still stands.  If you want help, if any of your friends want help.  I will help you.  You are a friend of mine, and I don't want you hurt.

Dead End:

I am not hurting.

Convoy:

*tenses*  Your finish says differently.  *his tone is still worried, and there's nothing hidden there except his concern for the other*

Dead End:

My finish will rust away into dust no matter what my commander does.

Dead End:

There is nothing to help, Pepsi Convoy.

Convoy:

...I want to help.  *sounding still concerned but now a little helpless, which is a feeling he isn't used to by a long shot*

Dead End:

You wish to interfere with the Stunticon leader's private matters?

Convoy:

If he's hurting my friends, yes.

Dead End:

He will kill you. Then punish me for insubordination.

Convoy:

That is assuming he would be functioning enough to do such a thing.

Dead End:

*looks at Convoy for a long moment* You wish to take over his command?

Convoy:

I couldn't lead.  But I'd rather give you someone you wouldn't feel forced to follow - Dead End, I just... I don't like seeing my friends get hurt.  *why won't it sink in already?*

Dead End:

*because he isn't getting hurt* Then why would you challenge him?

Convoy:

To help you.

Dead End:

It is not your duty.

Convoy:

I do not do things based on my duty.  I want to help.

Dead End:

*hands tightens some on Convoy's back* I do not need help.

Convoy:

*his optics dim a bit*  I don't care about need.  I only care about what you want.

Dead End:

I do not want any help. There is no need for it.

Convoy:

There's a difference between want and need, Dead End.  *frowning, looking put upon because he either isn't getting through to Dead End, or there really isn't anything he can do - he's not sure which one is worse*

Dead End:

The difference does not matter. I will not be disloyal.

Convoy:

It... It won't be disloyalty.  Wanting to keep from being unfairly and too-harshly disciplined is not disloyalty.

Dead End:

You are right. Running from my commanding officer would be betrayal, not mere disloyalty.

Convoy:

*can't think of what else to say - everything he wants to do is out on the table, but whether Dead End gets his point of view or if he's just... so used to one way that he can't change, Convoy can't tell.  His hands tighten briefly against Dead End's back, a reassuring sort of squeeze*  I just want to help, Dead End.

Dead End:

There is not anything to help. Why do you not see that?

Convoy:

...I don't know.  *shakes his head a little*  I don't know.

Dead End:

Then let it be.

Convoy:

*ducks his head again, resting it more on top of Dead End's now - he doesn't want to just let it be-* ...If that's what you want.

Dead End:

It is. I will be fine. *more informational than reassuring*

Convoy:

*doesn't know if he believes that, even though he believes fairly everything the other's said so far*  ...Even so.  If you ever want help...  I'm fairly good at keeping anonymity over sensitive subjects.  I will not do anything without your permission to do so.

Dead End:

*wavers between annoyed and resigned* As you wish.

Convoy:

*you're not getting out of this hug, Dead End*

Dead End:

*has discovered that, to some degree. Well, he has time. Stands there, leaning slightly against the mech, just waiting till he is let go*

Convoy:

*loosens his grip to the point where he's barely holding on still - it's completely up to Dead End at this point, whether he stays or leaves, but Convoy's still upset over the whole course of their conversation, barely able to remember where it started getting so... personal for him*

Dead End:

*doesn't try to break away, or even move. He's patient, engine making a low rumbling noise. He senses the other is...upset, somehow* Convoy. *calmly* There is nothing you can do.

Convoy:

*doesn't answer right away, offlining his optics*  ...I wish there was.

Dead End:

*vents something resembling a sigh* Do not make wishes in vain.

Convoy:

I don't mean to.  I apologize.  It's simply...  *quietly*  I still wish I could do something.

Dead End:

*remains silent. He can't really imagine how things would be without Motormaster*

Convoy:

*he's sounding like a broken record right now, but he can't help it - there's nothing else he can think of to say*  I just want you to be happy.

Dead End:

*Dead End doesn't know what he wants. He's too used to following the Stunticon leader's desires*

Convoy:

*continues softly as the other doesn't respond*  ...I know you don't want my help, so I won't push it any longer than I already have.  I simply...  I am here.  If you change your mind, or not.

Dead End:

I will keep it in mind. *quietly, it's not just idle words*

Convoy:

Thank you.

Dead End:

*just nods, he didn't see why there was any need for thanking him*

Convoy:

*pulls back finally, almost reluctantly on his part, but keeps his hands lightly against Dead End's shoulder and side, where they were before he had hugged the other*  Forgive me.  I just...  I don't know what came over me.

Dead End:

*looks at the mech, still not moving. Convoy was unique, alright, no one had tried to do this before - not that he could remember, at least, which may or may not bear significance* You are forgiven.

Convoy:

*chuckles quietly, smiling once more - though it seems a little less flashy than normal*  I suppose this wasn't exactly what you intended to happen when you came back with me.

Dead End:

*a wry semi-smirk* No. It was not.

Convoy:

Forgive me, then.  I will try, in the future, to keep my personal opinions to myself.  *still with that strange smile*

Dead End:

You are forgiven, again. *even though Dead End didn't really see any reason to apologize. Still, manners are manners*

Convoy:

I'm afraid I don't know where to take this conversation, however... *trails off, frowning a bit - the only thing he wants to do right now is make Dead End happy, but the other is so hard to read*

Dead End:

*that's the intention, Convoy. The Stunticon doesn't like to be read* Neither do I.

Convoy:

*he doesn't know that, though, and really, wouldn't you want to be readable when someone just wants to make you happy?*  What do you propose, in this case, then?

Dead End:

*you can never be sure of when others want to make you happy and when they want to take advantage of the information they find. And it's always the latter, in Dead End's experience. He remembers something the truck had said* What is the roadblock you mentioned earlier?

Convoy:

*takes a moment to remember the previous train of thought* ...Just something that is preventing me from learning everything that I could.  It isn't anything particularly serious...  Simply... annoying.

Dead End:

*quirks an optic ridge* Details, Convoy.

Convoy:

*frowns*  ...Somebody that I know I, at one point, knew...  Simply prefers me not to know how I came to be, and would rather I not ask questions.  *chuckles slightly, looking a little off-put*  I suppose if I continue to badger him, he will give in.  Or give up.

Dead End:

Would you mind telling me who? *doesn't sound like he'll take no for an answer, albeit it's subtle*

Convoy:

It isn't anyone you know.  I doubt he would ever come near this base, to be truthful.  *doesn't do subtle, but he's not particularly planning on telling the other anything resembling a name*

Dead End:

*still wants to know* Tell me his name and affiliation.

Convoy:

He has neither.  *quietly*

Dead End:

How can he not have a name?

Convoy:

I have no doubt that he does have one, but I simply don't know it.  *frowning*

Dead End:

You did not bother to ask? And yet he is so important to you?

Convoy:

...It's very complicated, Dead End.

Dead End:

Then explain it to me. It is what friends do, is it not?

Convoy:

*bemused*  Why are you so curious?

Dead End:

I am merely being your... friend. *it's obvious he doesn't use that word too often, nor that he fully understands the concept of friendship*

Convoy:

...I... *sighs*  I have asked for his name, but he simply will not give it to me.  He and I are... similar.  To an extent.  But he...  He is far more interested in battles than I am.  *isn't meaning to be vague - it's just hard for him to get his thoughts on the matter organized*

Dead End:

*light nod* Where did you meet him?

Convoy:

On a highway, just after I received coordinates to the base.  He wanted me to go back.  *flatly*  I said no.

Dead End:

Go back where? *truly interested, now*

Convoy:

To the place where I woke up.  A research facility of some type, but... I couldn't discern what they did there.  It was mostly destroyed.

Dead End:

He was your production sibling?

Convoy:

..."Sibling" would be an excellent term for our relationship, I suppose, but no.  He is...  Not like us.

Dead End:

Then how is he, if he is not like us?

Convoy:

...He isn't a human.  Well, perhaps he is.  I wouldn't know.  He and I... have similar causes in life.  *gestures with a hand over towards the cases of Pepsi in the corner*

Dead End:

*frowns at that. What did Convoy mean, he didn't know?* What is he, then? A harbinger of this 'Pepsi'?

Convoy:

...Of a sort.  We both support and protect the Pepsi company.  We just... have different ways of doing so.

Dead End:

And you do not approve of his ways.

Convoy:

*frowning again, deeper than before* ...I do not.  And I also do not approve of him attempting to control me.

Dead End:

*Dead End was starting to understand why the truck had gotten himself so worked up about how a leaders should be* Why did you break away from him?

Convoy:

He did not like what I wanted to do with my life, and my duty to Pepsi.  I... also did not like being held on a leash.  At least now my tether is far longer than it was.

Dead End:

He must have been a weak leader.

Convoy:

He did not know how to balance his desires with mine.  He was a poor leader, indeed.  *quiet*

Dead End:

*wasn't quite what Dead End had meant, but at least they agreed* And now you are on your own.

Convoy:

As much as I can be.  I've had to deal with him a few times since I left him, but...  I prefer it here.

Dead End:

You do not miss him?

Convoy:

It's... hard to miss someone who hardly leaves you alone.

Dead End:

You harbor no desire to go back to him?

Convoy:

None.  He...  I do not remember him from before I woke up, but I have this feeling that he isn't... who he used to be.  Or who he should be.  Until he changes, I cannot follow him.

Dead End:

Then why do you not help him change back? If he is not who he used to be, then he might require assistance to return to his old self.

Convoy:

I've tried.  *chuckles*  Believe me.  Sometimes... I don't have all the answers yet.  Until I do, I can hardly help him change.  And... *frowns*  He may be... happier.  Alone.

Dead End:

Hardly, if he keeps coming back for you as often as you claim.

Convoy:

He wants a minion.  *dryly*  I'm not much for the mindless obedience part of life.

Dead End:

*remains silent at that*

Convoy:

*doesn't really notice the silence*  Perhaps our goals are simply too separated.  I want... peace.  *pauses*  ...He wants dominance.

Dead End:

Why not make sure you both get what you want?

Dead End:

*obvious, really*

Convoy:

...I'm not sure what you mean.  *frowns*

Dead End:

You give him the dominance he seeks, and you can achieve the peace that you desire.

Convoy:

No, I cannot.  *sighs*  He doesn't care if he controls me in particular.  He wants to control it all.  I... want everything peaceful.

Dead End:

He will not keep his reign peaceful, then, I assume?

Convoy:

No.  He...  Demands that everything be done exactly in his own image.  For... *shakes his head and again waves a hand at the Pepsi*  For example.  I accept that you all do not drink Pepsi.  He... would decide to either make you, or... you would not be standing here with me as an equal.

Dead End:

A commander is not equal, so I do no see how that would matter.

Convoy:

I am no commander.  *mildly*

Dead End:

So I have gathered.

Convoy:

...I only say "not as an equal" because I don't know if he will... be able to kill any of us.  If he could, however...  That would be more accurate.

Dead End:

He is unable of killing? *now that made him a really weak leader indeed*

Convoy:

Killing us.  *sighs*  Not from lack of trying, I'd imagine.

Dead End:

He is that weak? *strong undertone of disgust*

Convoy:

*smiles*  He is only the size of a normal human.

Dead End:

He is human? *not just an undercurrent anymore*

Convoy:

*frowns*  Human sized.  I doubt very much there is anything human left in him, if there ever was any to begin with.

Dead End:

Then what is he, if he is neither human nor mech?

Convoy:

...I don't know.

Convoy:

*voice and expression completely honest*

Dead End:

*frowns, looking rather contemptful and none too happy about Convoy's lack of an answer* I see.

Convoy:

I wish I did, Dead End.  It would make it harder for him to hold information over me, but since I don't...  There isn't much I can do.  I'm not sure if this makes much sense - it barely makes sense to me.

Dead End:

Then find out.

Convoy:

How do you propose I do that, when I cannot remember where I first met him, and he refuses to tell me anything?

Dead End:

Force him. You are stronger than him, correct?

Convoy:

I may be stronger than him, physically, but... I have too much love for freedom.  It is his choice not to tell me anything, just as it's my choice not to listen to him.

Dead End:

It would be easier to just get rid of him. *has no qualms about killing, and doesn't care if others know. Prefers it, actually*

Convoy:

And lose my only chance to maybe learn more about myself?

Dead End:

*Hmm, point* And meanwhile you are stuck in this... limbo.

Convoy:

For the time.  It isn't so bad, though.  *smiles*  I will eventually find more answers, but until then...  I have friends, and a place to stay.  I can't very well complain.

Dead End:

I suppose not.

Convoy:

Then, until I can come up with a plan against him... I'm content.

Dead End:

I understand. You will await the situation.

Convoy:

*nods*  I have all the time in the world, after all.  He may very well have just as long as I.

Dead End:

And if he does not, it all solves itself. *except for the information thing*

Convoy:

*definitely except for the information, but does Convoy look too off put by that?*  Everything will work out, in the end.

Dead End:

*since when is Convoy put off by anything?* Yes. It will.

Convoy:

*last I checked, Dead End got him kind of riled up earlier*  I'm still not sure if you really wanted to know much of that, and I apologize if it... seems as incoherent to you as it does to me.  I have trouble organizing my thoughts, sometimes.

Dead End:

*with a certain emphasis on 'kind of'* There is no need to apologize.

Convoy:

...It's rather default for me to apologize for things.  *chuckles*

Dead End:

So I have noticed.

Convoy:

...Perhaps I really should rest.  *frowns suddenly*  I'm having trouble recalling our line of conversation up until this point - I think I might have worked myself too hard.  *too hard thinking, maybe, but it's true - he does feel tired.  Like they've been talking for weeks*

Dead End:

*makes a hmming sound* I should be heading back to my quarters, as well. This has taken up more time than I had expected. *faintly wry*

Convoy:

*smiles again*  I didn't mean to keep you occupied.  I'm sure you have more important matters to attend to, after all.

Dead End:

Yes, I believe I do. *gives Convoy a look, while letting his hands fall back to his own flanks. You are still holding him, sort of.*

Convoy:

*he knows, because he gives the other a slight squeeze before letting go*  You're welcome to come by any time, however.  I assume you'll be able to find this place faster than me.  *lightly*

Dead End:

*Nods, and steps towards the door. He turns around to look at the other mech before he leaves, though* ...thank you. *he isn't sure why, but his sense of politeness felt it appropriate to thank the truck*

Convoy:

*his smile softens a bit*  Any time, my friend.

Dead End:

*optics narrow briefly before nodding again. Pushes the keypad and steps through the door. Looks at Convoy, visibly hesitating before adding a calmly spoken-* Take care. *and he starts walking towards his own chambers, in no rush whatsoever*