The bear mech enters Pyro's and halts just few steps inside the door for a quick glance around. It doesn't have the same familiar, welcoming feel that he used to associate with Maccadam's Oil Bar, but it still looks like a pretty good spot for a drink and a chat. Glancing down the way, he notes a table towards the back that will likely be a
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When Ratchet pauses, Wheeljack wishes his had a drink, after all. He settles for picking up one of the coasters from the table and fidgeting with it. "That is a lot to take in, but I think I follow. Seems most realities got some kinda quirk built in. I can't say I can completely relate, but..." He trails off, thinking about the Skids quote again. He forces himself to continue. "But I can understand somethin' unexpected bringing about mass confusion."
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He wonders about the creations mentioned, but doesn't ask yet, aware that things could have progressed differently in what already sounds like a wacky universe. He's unaware of the potential hostility, but it's probably just as well he doesn't try to put an understanding hand on the bearbot's arm.
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He stands up just in time to get knocked over by the tiger and bear shells, the two licking his faceplate enthusiastically. "Whoa, whoa! Okay, knock it off! Get your shells under control, I don't NEED a bath! ECK." Pushing the pair away with both hands, he sits up. "When did you get here? Just now? Did anyone else arrive with you?"
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"Well, you and I did anyway. And our shells. Moledive there managed to use his ray wings to glide down and land on his feet," Catilla adds, jerking one thumb towards the clawed mech, who actually smirks just a tad. "We wandered around a bit and then noticed the bar sign."
"You're the first we've seen from our reality outside our group." Moledive fixes his gaze on Ratchet, then lets it slide to the engineer present. "...unless that is the Wheeljack we know. But I find it difficult to believe you'd be chatting over drinks with him if it were..."
Catilla rubs his chin thoughtfully. "True, that. The smell of ignorance is distinctly lacking."
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He then retakes his seat, himself, and reclaims his own cup of energon. "It's about on par with Maccaddams, really. You won't be disappointed."
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"If you don't mind, I'm gonna have a look around," he decides. "I don't like being in unfamiliar territory for long without scoping it out."
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"...says the king of belching contests," Catilla comments once Moledive is gone. Glancing over at Wheeljack, the Pretender eyes him with the practiced gaze of a former security officer. After a moment, he seems to conclude that the other Autobot is alright to converse with. "Sorry, didn't mean to crash your party with the boss, here."
"Er, yeah. Here we are yakking away at each other and um...yeah." Chainclaw picks up a coaster and fiddles with it. Noticing that his shell is sniffing at one of Wheeljack's legs, he prods it with one foot. "Don't mind him...it...er, me. ...him. He's curious."
Catilla merely shakes his head at both his partner and his partner's shell.
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