"...put the wind up them," Waterlog growls at his shipmate as they return from a very brief visit to the outside world. The hovercraft sounds almost scolding as he tramps through the back door, one hand clamped on Stormcloud's arm.
"Yeeeah," Stormcloud drawls. "That's why we do it."
Waterlog snorts, cocking his head and listening for any stragglers who might tell on them to Oceanglide. "You remember our captain's words, matey. Stir the bottom-feeders in this city..."
"And we'll get the admiralty coming down on our heads," Stormcloud finishes gloomily, pushing away from the other Minicon and tramping down toward the common room. "Fragging stupid planet, all slagging city and nothing worth slagging going outside for..."
Ironhide lets air out of his fuel lines in a rather resounding burp, then flips his first cube into nothingness and considers whether he wants to mix another, or to have some green. Remembering how long it's been since he's had the green, he reaches for a cube of that, then adds the proper minerals to sweeten the rather raw tasting product before taking a deep pull.
Yes, this is supposed to be sipped. No, he's never gone by that tradition.
In spite of his mood, Stormcloud's footsteps are quiet as they are quick by the time he gets to the common room door. Consequently the only warning that he's arrived is the startled exclamation when he turns in the door and is struck with view full of blue and green.
For a nanoclick he thinks he's lost it and started hallucinating water. Then Waterlog finally catches up.
"What in the name o'-" He laughs and moves in on the table. "That's a sight for sore optics, eh me bucko?" The fact that all that energy has an obvious guardian doesn't bother him - or Stormcloud, the speedboat-mech looking from cubes to Ironhide with growing interest.
"Have a seat," says the black Autobot, watching them over the edge of his cube of green. Then he tips it up and drains it in one go before tossing it aside and grabbing another blue one, which he mixes carefully with the contents of several of the packets laying at his elbow. "Help yourself."
That gets him a disbelieving look solely in the name of 'did he really say that?'
But Stormcloud's not taking his word drinkwise, either. The Minicon forgoes the carbon - though not without a second's hesitation as he glances at it. But instead he chucks a couple of handfuls from both his chosen packets into a smallish cube and kicks it hard enough to send the additives swirling through the liquid - far from an even mixture, but it's how he's used to doing it.
That done, he tries out the result... and doesn't quite wince. "I thought you said it was bad," he says, looking up and trying to clear the taste from his fuel lines.
He's not actually faking, which says something about what the team's had to survive on in the past.
"I said it reeked." Ironhide finishes his cube, then pauses to let out a truly impressive air bubble and contemplate it for a moment before reaching for another green cube and some of the dull coloured powder. To this he adds just a bit of the crystal, and then small bits of three other packets before a sprinkling of carbon goes on top. His expression is intent as he measures and mixes, and then resumes its usual blank cast as he tastes his creation and finds it very good.
Waterlog cocks his head, watching Ironhide work, then glances at Stormcloud as the other Minicon goes back for carbon. He gives a mocking snigger. "Can't stomach your pick after all?"
Stormcloud draws up to his full height to glare at his brother properly. "You want to make me?" Neither of them has Oceanglide's facility with language, and frankly he hasn't got a proper rejoinder. Fortunately the words aren't as important to the conversation as the sentiment behind them. It's his energon, and he can do what he likes with it.
This time, Waterlog defers with a neutral grunt. He's still watching the other two closely, though... and that curiously fizzing drink. A bot's tempted to think 'Joe's' corrosion was self-inflicted...
"I know." The green crystal is carefully added to his foamy brew, and then the indifferent gaze flicks back to Stormcloud as he names a colony that vanished long long ago.
"It was there after everyone else lost contact." He absently scratches at one of his scars, flaking off bits of solder, then decides that he's let his drink foam enough and knocks it back in one gulp.
Wait for it... hear that rumbling in his internals?
Waterlog sniggers in the background. Stormcloud cocks his head and wonders if now's a good time to back up before the old guy blows a gasket... or something. But lo! He has a thought! "So it wasn't even worth keeping in touch. What's on the surface?"
There's a pause, and then the scramble and thumping as Nightscream picks himself up and heads for the source.
Stormcloud stops guzzling his drink long enough to snigger and observe, "Sail ho."
"Well, lookee what's crawled in through the scuppers," Waterlog laughs as Nightscream appears in the doorway. The black Minicon gestures in response, looking between the three bots there and the pile(s) of energon.
"I'm not stopping anyone from coming." Ironhide regains his feet with his usual creaking, then turns to head back, snagging the additive packets along the way.
Nightscream follows the noise. "Yeah, but you're not waiting for Cliffjumper and the Killjoys to get back either, are you?" He's pretty sure he's caught something illicit in progress, and he's curious about what.
"You mean too easy to lose." Nightscream doesn't look where he's going, instead keeping his gaze on the bigger mech as he trots along in tow.
The Sea Team 'cons have made some progress on their cubes despite the fight, though when Ironhide and Nightscream return they're just talking and sniggering.
"...But if the bird hadn't run to whatsistail- Prowl - we'd have been sitting pretty, am I right?" Stormcloud points out merrily to his team-mate.
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"Yeeeah," Stormcloud drawls. "That's why we do it."
Waterlog snorts, cocking his head and listening for any stragglers who might tell on them to Oceanglide. "You remember our captain's words, matey. Stir the bottom-feeders in this city..."
"And we'll get the admiralty coming down on our heads," Stormcloud finishes gloomily, pushing away from the other Minicon and tramping down toward the common room. "Fragging stupid planet, all slagging city and nothing worth slagging going outside for..."
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Yes, this is supposed to be sipped. No, he's never gone by that tradition.
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For a nanoclick he thinks he's lost it and started hallucinating water. Then Waterlog finally catches up.
"What in the name o'-" He laughs and moves in on the table. "That's a sight for sore optics, eh me bucko?" The fact that all that energy has an obvious guardian doesn't bother him - or Stormcloud, the speedboat-mech looking from cubes to Ironhide with growing interest.
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And carbon+energon=sweet.
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But Stormcloud's not taking his word drinkwise, either. The Minicon forgoes the carbon - though not without a second's hesitation as he glances at it. But instead he chucks a couple of handfuls from both his chosen packets into a smallish cube and kicks it hard enough to send the additives swirling through the liquid - far from an even mixture, but it's how he's used to doing it.
That done, he tries out the result... and doesn't quite wince. "I thought you said it was bad," he says, looking up and trying to clear the taste from his fuel lines.
He's not actually faking, which says something about what the team's had to survive on in the past.
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That energon is fizzing out of the cube.
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Waterlog cocks his head, watching Ironhide work, then glances at Stormcloud as the other Minicon goes back for carbon. He gives a mocking snigger. "Can't stomach your pick after all?"
Stormcloud draws up to his full height to glare at his brother properly. "You want to make me?" Neither of them has Oceanglide's facility with language, and frankly he hasn't got a proper rejoinder. Fortunately the words aren't as important to the conversation as the sentiment behind them. It's his energon, and he can do what he likes with it.
This time, Waterlog defers with a neutral grunt. He's still watching the other two closely, though... and that curiously fizzing drink. A bot's tempted to think 'Joe's' corrosion was self-inflicted...
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Stormcloud laughs. "Frag, you really are an ancient clunker."
Polite conversation - they're not much good at it.
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Wait for it... hear that rumbling in his internals?
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"Nightscream," he says calmly.
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Stormcloud makes a sound of irritated disappointment. "Too bad that's all." Really, he is. An intruder would be (legitimate) fun.
"Sink me," Waterlog says amiably. "Don't the little bilge rat know what doors be for?"
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Stormcloud stops guzzling his drink long enough to snigger and observe, "Sail ho."
"Well, lookee what's crawled in through the scuppers," Waterlog laughs as Nightscream appears in the doorway. The black Minicon gestures in response, looking between the three bots there and the pile(s) of energon.
And silently wondering what scuppers are.
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The Sea Team 'cons have made some progress on their cubes despite the fight, though when Ironhide and Nightscream return they're just talking and sniggering.
"...But if the bird hadn't run to whatsistail- Prowl - we'd have been sitting pretty, am I right?" Stormcloud points out merrily to his team-mate.
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