Hangar-ing out.

[driftlock]

"Oh, FRAG no."

Such is Deadlock's reaction, loud enough to be heard in the corridor outside through the open door, as he steps into the hangar, divided in half by a stripe of paint, one half with a helpful label 'Deadlock', the other 'Flashpoint.

Everyone else got their very own nice little rooms with berths and maintenance facilities and scrap like that, and Deadlock gets a half a hangar. 'Cause that's totally fair.

Not that it was news to him that life wasn't fair. And he'd slept in worse places, in the gutters, where you had to hide so the syphoners didn't get you or you weren't dragged off for a little dubiously consenting donation to the local Relinquishment Clinic.

But still, even Rodion hadn't expected him to recharge next to an...Autobot.

No fraggin' way he was going to transform with her watching.

Maybe she'll be smart enough to not show up. Or maybe, being an Autobot, she was so dumb she hit the airlock instead. That was a cheerful thought: Flashpoint floating clueless and alone in the vastness of space. So he's almost smiling (what are you nuts? A real smile would break this face) as he moves to stow his most valuable possessions: his guns, with a grenade with an Autobot logo on it proudly in the middle.

Who says he doesn't have an optic for style?

((OOC: Open to anyone wandering by/exploring!))

Comments

/cackling

[shitflashpointsays]

She'd just been given coordinates and very vague directions. Something about 'temporary housing' until the fleet could rig up something more suitable for someone her size. Well whatever, life's been worse in the past and she could deal. It'll be a place to hole up for a while and get her bearings after that slag-worthy welcoming.

But then she finally gets there, crate of stuff in hand, and sees how creatively they've allocated the space.

"What the FRAG is this!?!"

It's so nice, the way that echoes through the hanger, as if to help put extra emphasis on the WTF and DNW of the situation.

[driftlock]

That sound that may sound suspiciously like a groan is the terrible sound of Deadlock's tiny balloon of hope 'fweeeeeeing' as it deflates.

By the time he turns around, his face is hopefully set in its customary greeting for Autobots, which is kind of like 'I am trying to make your head explode with my optics'. And sure, it had been almost his response, too, and that just makes her a copycat. Fraggin' Autobots steal everything.

"What's it look like: it's a fraggin' hangar." Dummybot.

[shitflashpointsays]

Flashpoint: crushing Decepticon hope for four million years, and counting. She's sorry Deadlock but only because she's stuck here with you, which is the exact opposite of what she wanted.

She's not got high hopes for comfort or anything, but at the very least Flashpoint wanted somewhere safe where she would work through how unsettling the arrival experience was, being torn from her body, something she's not been ready to admit to anyone.

Rooming in a hanger with a notorious Decepticon? FAR FROM SAFE!

But hell if she's going to look disturbed or anything. She just peers at him and his stolen grenade. "Can see that much. It's what's in it that I'm not excited about." HUFF. "This your idea of marking your territory or something?" Next thing she knows there's going to oil smears on the walls.

[driftlock]

By the look on Deadlock's face, she might infer this wasn't exactly cocktails with Megatron levels of fun for Deadlock, either. In fact, he looks like he'd rather be rolling in radioactive waste.

Huh. Maybe if he did that she'd stay the frag away from him.

"Oh stop fraggin' pretending." He steps closer. "YOU set this up, didn't you?" Because anything that sucks in Deadlock's life: her fault. It is her Autobot Destiny.

And that grenade is not stolen: he acquired it fair and square. Well...kind of fair and maybe a bit of a rhombus. Close enough. "Fraggin' name tape marked my territory." Which reminds him: "You stay on your side of the line." You know, the gross Autobot side.

[shitflashpointsays]

Cocktails in general would improve this situation a ton. Just not Megatron. She prefers Megatron-free cocktail hour thank you very much.

Deadlock-free would be nice too, but that's probably asking too much.

"Pretending!?" What is she a liar now? "You--" here's a stabby finger pointed at your chassis, Deadlock, "got here first and did all this, didn't you?"

Oh that's right, she conceded defeat and 'gave' the grenade to him so she could lord over her Autobot generosity and compassion. Or something. But if this is going to be territory wars then so be it. She'll step up to her side of the line. "Why would I even want to?"

[driftlock]

Yeah, she's probably the type that drinks stupid slag with umbrellas in it with her pinkies raised. Autobots. Even their drinks are weak.

You heard him: pretending. Like you're surprised. Don't play dumb with him. He's totally onto you and your Autobot devious tricks. "If I was gonna rig something special for you, it'd have exploded by now." Preferably venting to space. You'd look way better as a trail of debris, just saying.

"Hnf. Fraggin' obvious why you'd do it." Hello? You know you're jealous and perverted and weird. He saw you eyeballing his noodelbot.

[shitflashpointsays]

Well whatever she ends up drinking she's sure as frag not sharing with a Decepticon. He's got a grenade and that's as far as her generosity goes.

"Taking us both out at the same time, stellar idea," she says flatly. "THEY probably puts us in here together so they could easily space us both if things got out of hand. Or if they just felt like it."

That's the cynic in her talking but wow...it makes way too much sense.

"To your strange, little imagination maybe." He was the one faceslamming her in the crotchplate earlier, he's got no room to point pervert fingers. She turns 'round in a huff, door panels swinging in a wide arc. "I'll stay on my side if you stay on yours."

[driftlock]

Damn skippy he's got a grenade. It is the best grenade in the history of small munitions. He calls it Boomer.

He's about to rip out some scathing retort that would scorch the paint off her stupid...what the frag kind of crest even is that, anyway? when she mentions the whole, you know, them spacing the Cybertronians thing. That doesn't just gently massage his paranoia button, it pounds it flat with all the grace and elegance of Turmoil's fist.

"....frag." It all makes sense. "What the frag did you do to torque them off?" Because, see above: her fault. Everything. Guess who's not sleeping tonight?

And he will point all the pervert fingers he wants, because they are his actual fingers now, and not some tiny noodlebot. "Puh. Please. What the frag would I want on your side?" Oooooother than that crate of other weapons and goodies you have.

[shitflashpointsays]

It's the sexy kind of crest and yeah she saw you lookin'! Best that last century look he's sporting.

Flashpoint is about to do a verbal victory lap as he agrees with her, but then the blaming starts. "Me!? What? I didn't--" well okay that's not entirely true. She had some choice words to say to her captives, both before and after. "I'm fully entitled to verbally express my rage at being treated like some second rate AI with none of the rights of a sentient being." PEER. "Like you didn't."

She's just going to sit down in a huff, back to a wall and crate in front of her, just close enough that he can see what she's doing if he tries, (because she's in the most mature mindset right now clearly). And then she'll do a little inventory of her stuff, starting with the grenades and ammo charge cartridges that get slipped into the storage in her door panels. The two pistols get set aside for now, she'll holster them later when their presence stops being comforting. (which might be never, oops)

[driftlock]

It's called 'classic style', you. And who gives a scrap about fashion when there's a war to fight? Not Deadlock. He doesn't care about manners, either, for the same reason.

Or hygiene.

"Course I did. But they're smart enough not to frag with me." E-except the whole Noodlebot Incident, about which we will not speak. And you will not notice him shoving with one foot behind him.

He sees what you're doing and he knows why you're doing it. When it comes to childish behavior, he can spot it like the expert he is. He refuses to rise to the bait. This is him refusing. REFUSING. HUFFFFFFF. You know what? He's just going to sit down and stare creepily at her.

[shitflashpointsays]

Ooops except there's no more war now. Yeah that's gonna be a downer for Deadlock's fightboner when she finally tells him. Oh yeah and then there's that part about how he converted to the Autobots. But naw, she's saving that for a special occasion. Like he'd believe her anyway.

And hygiene? Deadlock had better care if they're going to be stuck sharing the same hanger for a while, otherwise it's bound to start smelling like rancid oil in here.

"Uh-huh." If that word sounded more dubious it'd have to have syllables added. But now she's peering at that suspicious footplate movement, because she is that paranoid now.

Deadlock is definitely the expert at childish behavior, it's all that experience he has. Well if he's going to stare creepily then she'll just put on a show, because flying in the face of adversity is how she deals with everything. That's why the energon rations and the field repair kit come out next. The medical grade energon and kit get stashed away too, but she makes a point to tear open one of the standard ration pouches and helps herself.

[driftlock]

Right. Like Deadlock's gonna believe anything she says. He'll just add 'delusional' to her list of character flaws. He has to start writing small now to fit that all in.

He's combat ready, hygiene-wise. You prissy Autobots primp too much anyway. "Yeah, exactly." He doesn't even know anymore. He's just working on reflex and that reflex is 'obnoxious'.

He sees what you're doing there, and too bad on you, he has his own rations. Decepticon rations, which means, a million times better than hers.

He's just going to watch her eat, because that's creepy.

[shitflashpointsays]

Yeah that's pretty much a lost cause, but it's not her that's delusional. Still, if their positions were reversed, she wouldn't believe him either.

Well hey, if good hygiene annoys him then it's all the more reason to practice it. It'll be some kind of revenge for all this creepy staring. Which will be funny for the first half hour, then she'll want to punch him.

"Getting an opticful, huh?"

Flashpoint doesn't really do the silent treatment.

[driftlock]

Yeah, sure, do all the kinky self maintenance you want. Just, you know, wait till he's not there. Hang a scrunchie on the door or something. Because he's not some depraved sicko like her so he'll pass on watching that.

"Optic full of something, yeah." Something gross. "Just waiting for you to recharge." He's upping his creepy!game!

[authoritative]

Equius had slowly been exploring the ship, starting with what appeared to be the upper-class areas and working his way downwards-- and now, finally, he was in purely functional areas, where engineers and such kept giving him odd glances and he kept looking down his nose at them (as well as one can when one is shorter than all the adults skittering around but the Dorfs).

Now, he's poking through the hangers, peering at the ships, and-- goodness, what is all that noise?

He goes to investigate, and discovers it is robots. Giant, elegant robots, far beyond anything he has ever made, with eyes that shine like there are stars caught in them, yelling at each other.

Excuse him while he stands at the doorway and totally eavesdrops. This is possibly the best thing that has ever happened to him.

i am so sorry

[driftlock]

It is robots, all pointy and spiky and scary looking. Currently engaged in a scowl-off. But Deadlock spots the newcomer--a couple million years in battle and you get to feel things like that.

"Great," he says to Flashpoint, pointing at the door. "Now look what you've done. We're fraggin infested."

i saw that header in my inbox and was like "wow that's my line"

[authoritative]

"Excuse me?" the boy says, mildly affronted-- but just mildly. Giant robots! Giant decorative beautiful robots with lovely paintjobs! He kind of wants to open them up and examine their insides, though... well, they are certainly behaving with personality, so he suspects they are soulbots of some kind and wouldn't take kindly to being altered (based on previous evidence of being smacked around by robots).

Equius also suspects that being smacked around by these robots would probably also be a slight more dangerous for him. Perhaps he should be polite...

"Pardon the intrusion," he says, rather stuffily, "but might I ask what you are?"

Ooops more sorry (only kinda)

[shitflashpointsays]

"Me!" Flashpoint huffs and snaps at her hangermate, "You're the one with scowls so fierce they create harmonic resonance that attract people from all the way down the hallway."

She turns to the newcomer, her normally standoffish demenour a little more chipper. Mostly because it'll annoy Deadlock.

"Don't mind him, his face is malfunctioning and it's stuck that way. Personality too, it's quite tragic." Mock tragedy, that is. "I'm Flashpoint. That's Dreadschlock and his trusty noodblebot Betty. He likes to dress it up in girly clothes."

Cleary so! As evidence by the girly animu face with the eyelashes drawn on the barely visible paper plate affixed to the thing's head.

This is like a support group or something!

[driftlock]

You heard him, squishy. Unless you're defective or something. Which he wouldn't put past you.

And ugh, look at Flashpoint being all gross and agreeable. "You're blaming this on me?" Frag, no. That's like the inverse order of the universe.

The scowl certainly does look welded on at this point, after Flashpoint's 'helpful' comments. "Deadlock," he corrects, sourly. "It's not that hard to get right unless you've been shot in the head a lot like Flashpoint."

Heh. How's that burn feel now, Autobot?

And he will not talk about the noodlebot. Shut up.

Re: This is like a support group or something!

[authoritative]

"Ah..."

Well. They are certainly no usual robots, he was right about that.

Equius visibly flounders for a moment, then introduces himself, with a cautious little half-bow, "Equius Zahhak. It's an... honor, to meet such, um, impressive beings as yourselves." While the words are uncertainly chosen, there's no insincerity to them, because, wow, Equius really wants to know how these guys are put together, they are awesome. And beautiful. He usually doesn't think of robots as beautiful (... well, not most robots, Aradia was, of course, absolutely lovely, especially since she had blue blood flowing through her-- no, he won't think of his exploded robot hatelove girlfriend, that will just distract him--), but he can't help but think it of these magnificent machines. They're just... so sleek! And shiny! And pretty!

"... You're both really pretty," he blurts, after an awkward pause, and then blushes bright blue, sweat beading on his brow. "Ah-- I mean-- excuse me, I've never seen robots as--"

He waves his hand, clipping the doorframe and denting it badly without seeming to notice the contact.

[shitflashpointsays]

"What?" she shrugs at Deadlock, "It means your attractive to other species. You should be flattered!" Yes, she is blaming it on you Deadlock. But only because you started the blame game first!

And because she can let the sniping go unanswered, she adds, "Least I don't go down in one blast like some people probably do," she says snidely, before turning back to the Equius.

"Can't say I've met anyone like you either. Not human, I take it?" Humans are not that...strong, right? And yes, that's right, she's being quite agreeable. How do you take compliments like that and not feel agreeable? "Everyone is like that where we come from. Assuming they do their maintenance." Which Deadlock doesn't, by the way.

[driftlock]

Hnf. At least that's a slightly more badaft name than Rosette.

"I'm not 'pretty'!" He sounds huffy. "The Autobot is all pretty and slag, not me!"

He is a terrifying example of badaftery and mechliness and other words he's just making up now.

"Listen, Flashlight, if I were so hard to kill, your kind wouldn't have a bounty on my head." So there. He's famous!

His optics track the door crushy action: he's used to assessing threats. "Nice trick." He approves, and the little not-human pops up a few notches in his estimation. Keep going and he'll beat out Flashpoint.

[authoritative]

"O-of course, I chose my wording poorly," he apologizes to Deadlock, still obviously flustered, "would-- would majestic be more to your liking? Or magnificent?" Really gosh-darned cool, perhaps?

"And no, not human. I am a troll from the planet Alternia." He bows again, even though he just did that-- the high-handed bickering is ringing his nobility bells, because all the most famous or familiar nobility from where he's from is childish and bickering all the time-- and tells Flashpoint, "Where you come from must be amazing."

[shitflashpointsays]

"Could ya leave out the 'and slag' part, it sounds more like a compliment that way." Yes, she totally heard you call her pretty Deadlock, and she absolutely will take it as a compliment whether you meant it or not!

"Magnificent works. Magnificent pain in the aft. Or bountiful maybe. Considering there's that bounty, and all." She shoots Deadlock another look. "Thanks for the reminder by the way. I'll keep it mind if I ever need cash."

"As for Cybertron. Yeah. It used to be. It's kinda...angry now though." Flashpoint gives Equius another once-over because how the frag does that little body make dents the size of her fist? "They all like you on Alternia?"

[driftlock]

He growls. "Just for that, 'and extra slag'." Because he'd rather die than compliment an Autobot. "Fierce," he says to the new guy. That's what he is. Not magnetificent or whatever big fragging words.

"Keep fantasizing, Flashlight. Got more dignity than to be brought in for a bounty by you." She'll forget hopefully about his Noodlebot Experience and how he was kind of at her mercy.

He makes a little 'she's a little cuckoo' gesture with his hand. "Right. Angry Cybertron is Angry." Crackpot theories. "And you're dumb, because he's obviously some kind of Senator." Look at how he moves. And talks with all those big aft words.