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

hopefully not the Kanye version.

[driftlock]

"You calling me a slob? I'm not the one with all those boxes of junk." He'll just point over at the VERY NEAT display of his guns and her grenade. It's almost...artistic, really. Besides, it's hard to be a slob when you don't have stuff.

"I knew that stuff was fine before you got here." Fraggit. And now it's working extra fine right now, because she's right here and kind of laughing at him and he remembers how close her face was to his when he was trying to strangle her. H-hey, don't judge.

thankfully not!!

[shitflashpointsays]

She shrugs, "Don't good parties make messes?" Whirl's do. Or so she's heard anyway. Given Deadlock's artful little arrangement it sounds like a party Whirl would go to.

And one she'd go to too. ...maybe.

The smirking and snickering though, it doesn't quite let up, not when he just keeps saying funny things.

"O-oh. Checked that first did you?" She definitely can't deliver that one straight-faced. But WOW HEY she needs to maybe not being thinking about him testing out his own equipment? B-because frag that's hot and she kind of wonders if there's security cameras in here with a feed she could tap.

[driftlock]

H-he wouldn't know about 'good' parties. He's never had one. Seriously, who the frag would come? Half his own soldiers fantasized about shooting him.

"Yeah, fine. Huge mess, then. All on your side." Because maybe he doesn't know how to party, but he does know how to be a jerk.

He's just going to clamp his hands--both of them--over his interface hatch, because you are to immediately stop looking, thinking or anything-ing about his, ahem, equipment. "Like you didn't." Go on, Flashpoint. Bring it on. He is ready for this sass.

[shitflashpointsays]

Clearly some good party needs to happen so they can both crash it. Separately of course.

"What a thoughtful way to try and include me." He shouldn't have, really. Nevermind that she set herself up for that one.

How is she NOT supposed to follow the motion of his hands? Yes Deadlock, she looks anyway because you draw attention to it by...grabbing yourself like that.

Annnd now she's looking away, laughing behind her hand, using that to hide the husky cough that pops out. "...Yours or mine?" Maybe there was some checking out of someone's equipment but she's not saying whose yet. He should have specified!

[driftlock]

Yeah well he's going to be the one that is hipster late. You can be the nerd who shows up too early and gets too drunk. And then...magnets.

Yes....this is an excellent plan.

"You know we Decepticons don't have all those fancy Autobot manners." Or any manners at all.

Frag. Stop looking. Stop. Looking. He's going to turn to the side so you can't look. Pervert. "You checked yours. Or maybe not. Maybe yours is all broken. In which case." You better get to checking. Don't mind him.

[shitflashpointsays]

Better a nerd than a hipster, least she's genuine. And she'd deny the 'gets too drunk' part but it's unfortunately likely.

"Fancy manners? Is that an Autobot requirement? Why the frag they give me a brand then!?" Seriously what's with that? Deadlock should know how much she has in the way of manners by now. "Guess I'm not a very good Autobot."

HAA. She's totally joking! Except she's not.

And it's cute the way he twists his hips away from her. She'd feel bad except the whole awkward discomfort thing is mutual. "Ha! 'Course I chec--" Er. Okay. Maybe not...manually? Does he mean manually? FRAG. She's going to snatch back the diagnostic pad and stand up--because this whole crouching thing gives him way too good a view--then cross her arms and pretend that's not even a thing of concern. "WHATEVER. _{I'll check later}."

[driftlock]

Sure thing, NERD. You just keep telling yourself that.

"Frag if I know. You probably stole it." He shrugs. He would have. Well, if he wanted to be a loser Autobot nerd.

He meant it whatever way would make this most awkward, because that's the way they're apparently going to roll.

He snickers. "Yeah, you check that later. Told you I'm a light sleeper, right?"

[shitflashpointsays]

SHE WILL! ...even when drunk. Just, louder. If that's possible.

"If I stole it maybe I'm not a real Autobot?" OOooOOoOoooohhh, that should do noodly strange things to his processor, muddying those clearly defined lines.

Does this train go anywhere but Awkwardland? She's pretty sure it doesn't. "Well Fine. In that case I won't even bother trying to hide it." B-because that'd be more embarrassing for him, right?

[driftlock]

Oh, so she's the noisy drunk. No wonder she doesn't get invited to parties.

That does take a minute to sink in because why the frag would anyone do that?
"Hnf, all that means is you're crazy enough to want to be an Autobot." Which is nearly as gross.

It's no longer a train to Awkwardtown, it's more like a rollercoaster picking up speed. His optics widen, dropping to her crotch, and then back up to her face. She's. Not. Serious, is she?

Maybe she is. He swallows, thickly. "Yeah, you just. You know. Do that. See if I care." And see if you care over there where you can't hear the throb of his engine.

[shitflashpointsays]

The level of awkward is directly proportionate to the level of noise. So she's a perfectly chill and mellow drunk when all comfy...by herself.

The smallest of half smiles flits over her face, not her usual broad, unrepentant smirk. "Maybe...I'm a Decepticon spy," she whispers with a little flick of her browridge.

Really she shouldn't mess with him so much. But well, there's a truth to it if you look slantwise. She was a Decepticon once. And she was a spy once. Just...not at the same time.

"I will." She's just joining to pitch that over her shoulder as she turns to go, trying to hide the husky crack in her voice and ignore the way her plating heats as he looks at her, stifling a curse as her own fans finally click on.

[driftlock]

Well, he's just not gonna tell her the kind of drunk he is. She's gonna have to find out herself. Nyah. (Spoiler: the gropey 'I love you man' kind)

Wait, what? A spy? "Are you?" He blurts it out, without thinking. Because what the frag.

True. She shouldn't mess with his head because it's a very small space.
So he's just going to bluster back on.

"Yeah, fine. Go for it." He's going to lean closer, trying to look as much like a creepy pervert as possible. "Don't mind me." Please do mind him.

[shitflashpointsays]

It'll be a cold day in the smelting pits when that happens. Which probably actually means next week. (That's a sure fire way to find out she's ticklish, to her horror.)

At his outburst, she almost laughs. But there's a part of it that's actually not so funny, a small part of her that suddenly wishes it were true, if it meant he never berated her again. But frag that's stupid, why should she even care? She never has before. Flashpoint ignores the sudden tightness in her spark and just glances back at him, pressing a finger over her lips in response. She may be shushing herself as much as him with that motion though.

And she was going to attempt to look confident as she retreats back to her spot, door panels swinging with her ample hips, and then Deadlock says THAT. Aw frag. Is he...actually going to watch her? Like that? Right now? Yeah, that's a little pitch and roll that happens in her tank as he calls her bluff, or, most of it anyway. She really was going to wait until he was in recharge.

Bluster seems to be there order of the day though so she gathers her own and pushes through the roughness in her throat. "Might be waiting a while. I like to...work up to things." And apparently self service foreplay involves finishing weapons and ammo inventory.

[driftlock]

"Oh whatever. See if I care if you're a spy. No one to spy here to, anyway." So, yeah, sucks to be you, Flashspy. "Besides, I got nothing to hide." Nope. No embarrassing captivity in Crystal Hippy City or anything in his past.

And frag, she better not notice the way he's kind of...well, goggling at her aft as she walks. Nothing that...Autobot should be that sexy. He's just, you know, coughing when she turns around to clear his vent systems from the, uh, you know, Autobot cooties.

And ha, joke's on you, because Deadlock actually does find inventorying weapons to be sexy as frag.

Which means,...wow, he's really uncomfortable now. S-stop fondling that grenade that way.

[shitflashpointsays]

"You sure did a few minutes ago!" She shouts it over her shoulder. If trollface was a tone of voice then it was sure in that comeback just now.

That gives her a little smirk, gaining back some ground now that she's out of his direct presence and in her protective little circle of weaponry, each piece lovingly checked and rechecked, then stowed in its place on her person. He can watch all he wants, who knows, maybe he'll get jealous of her well endowed grenade collection. It makes his single look so lonely.

Oh and that little scan of him that's still resident in the diagnostic pad's memory? Just gonna save that and add it to her database of frame designs and schematics. You never know when intel like that might be useful. Who knows...maybe it'll have other uses too...

[driftlock]

"That was me acting like I cared." See? He's a brilliant actor, and you were captivated by his performance.

You...totally buy that, right?

His scowl deepens, because yes, he is a little jealous of those huge...munitions she's got there compared to his measly one. It wasn't his fault he got snagged from stupid hippy city! He'll just pet his forlornly. It's okay, grenade, Deadlock loves you.

I'm laughing at this grenade stuff he needs to name it

[shitflashpointsays]

"Nice act. Should win you an award it was so good!" Too good. If he'd just, you know, acted totally disinterested it would have been way easier to stay irritated at him. Clearly this is all his fault!

She kind of liked it better when he wasn't scowling though; those precious few moments when the handsome lines of his face really showed...aw no, she's not going there again is she? Well. She did need to do an equipment check, uh, right...?

No, that's the worst idea ever. Which means she'll do it. When she thinks he isn't looking. For now Flashpoint will just stow all her things within reach and huddle back against the wall in her corner for some (faked) recharge, trying to ignore his optics on her. Yeah this is going to be along night.

he has named it he's just not telling you what it is

[driftlock]

Yeah, he's wishing it was an act, too. This is just, you know, embarrassing. But still, bluster and scowling had been his twin tickets thus far in life.

"I don't want any of your stupid Autobot awards."

Mature. You bet he is.

Just like the way his optics keep staring at her, for creepy factor. But as the time stretches into awkward town, he finds his optics drifting down between her thighs, then snapping them back up. No, Deadlock you are not thinking frisky thoughts.

No.

Stop it.

I have an inbox full of tags look at my priorities XD

[shitflashpointsays]

Flashpoint is just as mature, with the whole pretending to ignore him when she's really hyper interested in what he's doing. And frag. She's wishing she had time to break into the surveillance feed because how can she tell when it's safe and he's stopped looking at her?

Maybe she'll just peek a little? Oh NOPE, that was a bad idea. Red optics all the way. And did they have a suspicious downward peer to them? Let's not think about that okay? She's just going to stand up, ya know, like someone adjusting to get more comfortable, then fold back down into her altmode. Maybe she just gave him an opticful but whatever, she rolls back into the corner til her bumper kisses the wall, running lights dimming, pleased with herself. HA! Now she can peer at him all she wants and he won't even know it! Spy, indeed!

Except now she can't...

Do.

Anything.

Else.

Like equipment checks.

FRAG.

are you me? also thread wrap, maybe?

[driftlock]

Short answer: he will never stop looking at her, ha!

No, wait, that sounds really...weird. Primus dammit.

He watched her stand up, figuring she was going to march on over and punch him in the face. Why? Because it's what Deadlock would have done. So he half braces, pressing his feet into the ground in case he needs to slide up against the wall fast, until she---

Yeah that was definitely an optic full. A couple of optics. Like an Insecticon's face worth of them. He was just going to, you know, take a minute here, and wish he'd thought to record that, before he realized what she did.

Oh yeah? TWO can play at this game: he folded himself into his own alt, so there. Now there was two ground vehicles parked in this hangar.

It was gonna be a loooooong night.