Who: Sarah Lennox, SG!Rodimus, Movie!Ratchet, Movie!Ironhide
What: Talking, ceiling tile counting, gratuitous use of the ">:|" expression, booze.
Where: The Tyran Household
Summary: Ironhide is still laid up, visitors show up to help with this... or tie him down.
Notes: In-progress
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So many tiles... )
What was a bot to do but offer to drop by and be company, especially company with 'booze'?
After explaining his 'mission' to the human who answered the door, Rodimus made his way to the still-prone Autobot.
"Figure you could use a distraction from bein inoperative. I brought high-grade."
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Rod kept the high-grade flowing, making sure to give Ironhide the cans of actual high-grade while he himself drank something a great deal less inebriating. (You could buy almost anything in the lower levels, and they'd package it any way you wanted for the right price.)
"Only thing that's ever certain is if youse don't fight back, he'll roll right over you. An then the rest of the galaxy. So you fight." He waited a moment, picking his words carefully. "Because...life is worth protectin'."
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He turned to face Rod, optics shuttering more times than necessary to focus. "That is because," he said. "His alternate mode became a tank." And then he raised his good arm, threateningly, voice picking up strength in the enclosed area. "And so we fight back! Until the Decept... icons have been defeated!" A nod, and another drink. "We must. It is our function--my function. Not..." Who's wasn't it? "Not. Hmpf." Oh, right. "Not the medic's."
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"'S'your function. My function too. Fightin' till the 'cons are destroyed. The medic-" Which one would he be talking about? Probably the same one Wave brought by, since Mikaela said he lived here as well. "Ratchet- he don't fight?"
He looked capable- but if he didn't, that would be useful to know.
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Wait, they were talking about something else, weren't they? He made himself focus. "Nah," he said, shaking his head. "Nah. He fights. He fights... got a gun. Gun and..." He raised one hand, moving it in a haphazard, circular motion. "Bzzt. You know. Bzzt." Which, apparently, was the drunken word for "saw blade". And then he shook his head again. "Try an' keep him out've it. All we got--have. All we have. Need 'im."
At least, he did anyway.
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And if they didn't have any other medic... well, things could get troublesome if he disappeared.
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"I protect 'im," he announced, proudly holding up a can. "With m'cannons."
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Rod considered for a moment, then gave the long shot a chance: "He outta be appreciatin, bein looked after by you, considerin how long you been 'round."
The end of the sentance was drawn out like a question, but left vague enough not to be an actual pry of sorts.
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Another pause, while Ironhide consulted the rapidly depleting high-grade for answers. "Should," he agreed. "Watchin' him since... war started. S'a good 'Bot." And then an expression nearly like a sulk crossed his face. "But doesn't. Always... push. Bicker. Ridin' me f'everything. Didn't mean t'get busted up..." The sulk became another scowl.
"Don't 'preciate it at all. He doesn't. Should. Doin' it for 'im."
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Rod knew that one- he hadn't had anyone he'd trusted since the Wreckers. Havin someone to watch your back was useful- and a good bot shouldn't shrug that off either.
"How 'bout your Prime? He watchin out for youse?"
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Ironhide went quiet again, downing still more of the high-grade before he went on. "Prime... can't be ev'where," he mumbled. "Does too much. Gotta help some'ow. Watch 'is back too. I do. Cover fire."
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"Sounds like my Prime." Rodimus ventured carefully "Good bot, good fighter, but...."
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Wait, the other 'Bot was saying something else. Mental brakes slammed on. "Starscream can't e'en take outta human dam," he said, waving his hand. "Got nothin' t'worry 'bout."
He nodded vigorously, moving to finish Rod's sentence. "Too noble. Too collected. Too much'a leader..." he said, though there was no scorn, only fond reverence. "Someone's gotta watch 'im."
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He was about to say more, both on the subject of Starscream, and on Prime, but a familiar yellow blur announced its presence with a huff. Looking almost gleeful, Ironhide waved at the approaching medic. "There y'are!" he called out. "Look. Look. Look. It's." He held up the can. "Lookit what 'e brought. Th'good stuff."
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