crux_fleet | (no subject)

If he was the apologizing sort, he would probably consider apologizing for the splash damage. Right now, though, he's just fixated on the whole 'kill the tentacles' mission.

He can toss one gun because guess what? He has TWO guns. Oh yeah. Didn't see that coming, did you?

Neither did tentacle face. Deadlock holds the bore of his spare gun aimed at the mass of now quivering, limp grossitude as she does...what even... "..the frag are you doing?"

That is a good thing to fixate on and she's following course. Apologies or whatever can come later.

Hopefully he'll still have two guns after this is over. The one he tossed might need cleaning as badly as her lower half does. Well...most of her now actually.

"What? I'm taking out my frustrations. You gonna deny me that? Or offer an alternative target?" It's therapy Deadlock, come on!

Yeah he didn't think of the cleaning thing till...uh...too late. Still, he's going to console himself that the SPLUP it made when it made contact was totally worth it.

"The frag you got to be frustrated about? It busted into my berth."

Uh, yeah, don't get a mental picture of that.

It's always too late, especially when it comes to clean-up consequences in Flashpoint's experience. That's one thing they have in common. ~~That they admit.~~

Flashpoint just stares at him blankly for a moment, goo dripping off of her, the shutters over her optics clicking. "Your berth?" she says finally, like she's processing that mental image in about 5 different directions, half of them prompting the scheduling of a processor scrub later. "Wow I guess it really wanted to party..." Or something. Yikes?

Frag. How is it that she's covered in rainbow alien tentacle goop and he's somehow the one feeling all embarrassed?

WHAT SORCERY IS THIS.

He's just going to try to melt her face off with a scowl. Or his face. Right now, he's not picky. "Yeah, well no one gets to party with me like that." NO ONE, you hear? Least of all annoying Autobots.

Because Flashpoint's had five million years of practice putting on her Deal With It glasses. And that's in regards to other people's shoddy opinions too. Don't like her rainbow tentacle goop fashion statement? Get a mop and some polish or get out.

Yeah that scowl is doing unfortunately bad things and it's not to Flashpoint's face. "No one? You mean partying in general or in your berth with more limbs than is legal?" Does she sound obnoxious enough to hide her disappointment? Sounds like Flashpoint's not getting invited to any parties any time soon either.

Well, in this case, her 'Deal With It' glasses are gonna run lenses first into Deadlock's 'NOPE' face. He refuses to deal with it, and you can't make him. Nyah.

What...the...?

"I mean...why are you even thinking like that right now!?" Fraggin' weirdo.

Hey, he broke 'em, he's bought 'em. Though it's true her Deal With It glasses aren't indestructible as he'll soon find out. (she just has a lot of different pairs of them)

"You're the one who started it and mentioned your berth!" Angry huffing would sound angrier if it didn't bubble with goop, oops. "And would you get off me!?" Nevermind that Flashpoint's the one mostly on top. Paragon of maturity right here. And her stomping off in a rejected, huffy fit would come off so much better if standing in all this slippery goop were easier. Instead it's angrier, huffier flailing that rivals playtime on a slip-n-slide.

More likely he'll steal her spare supply and sell them on the black market.

There is a market for those things, right?

"You asked how this whole thing started! What was I gonna do, lie?" Yeah, well, maybe in retrospect he should have tried that and spared himself a shred of dignity.

"And you get off me! I've been pawed enough by gross smelling scrap tonight." Because sorry, you smell like rainbow tentagoop. It's not a perfume he'd recommend.

If there is Flashpoint would sell them herself because it's not like she's rolling credits. (In her dreams maybe...)

"Ugly truths." They can agree on that one anyway. "Gonna have to de-con that bed now probably." Because who knows what kind of weird cooties this things had. Which...they both...probably have copious amount of now. And UGH, did it even splash into her mouth? GROSS!

"Fine!" She pushes off him in the most mature way possible, hand to face first, trying to roll away instead of get up. That's a slippery endeavor too, though it seems to be slightly more effective than her first attempts. "I'll just take my gross smelliness home!" And leave him to clean up the mess.

Damn. Well, it was a thought. One day, he'll get the better end of this relationship.

One day!

"Gonna have to burn it." Because, yeah, no way he's ever sleeping there again.

"Hey, wait! Where the scrap am I supposed to sleep?" Because his place is trashed. And you're here. And....you're not going to make him actually ask to stay with you, are you?

Which end would that be? Flashpoint's really not sure. Unless there's engex involved and then that's automatically better.

"That's wise. Before whatever's in there breeds." Because that's a thing organic stuff does. Just, rubs together and propagates itself. GROSS. (The propagation, not the rubbing. Mostly.)

Flashpoint looks back over her shoulder, optics narrowed suspiciously for a moment. Then she vents a sigh and jerks her helm. "C'mon." No nursing her ego in private after all. Maybe her shower will activate its magical powers and turn him nice again? "Let's get out of here before someone makes us clean this mess up."

That would be whichever end doesn't leave him either squealing in mortified, tickled laughter or feeling like an idiot. That's the end he wants. Which is the end he is currently not holding.

"Breeds?" Ugh gross. Thanks for taking a terrible situation and making it so very, very much worse. He did not need that. "Owe me a slaggin' new brain module, if you're gonna keep feeding it with nightmare fuel like that." Or he'll take another grenade, in lieu of.

He follows after her because he is the best hinter ever and she totally fell for his hint. Ha. Chalk up a point to Team Decepticon. "Make US clean this up? This is all your work."

What, she has done no such tickling and if anything it's a toss-up between who's more embarrassed. Flashpoint's just hiding it really well. See, he's all distracted by the super gross images in his head.

"You're in luck, I'm fresh out. Just energon here." Besides, if he gets a new brain module it might be an upgrade and then he'd be faster on the uptake. Can't have him wittier than she is, it's the one advantage she's got!

"Damn right it's all me. Maybe if you did more than throw your guns around then you could say the same." Her fists > Your guns. "All the more reason to beat a hasty retreat though. Least janitorial can sit pretty over the lack of property damages. Well. In the hall anyway." In his room? Apparently not so much. But none of that is her fault.

Flashpoint enters her quarters through the still open front door, dripping goop as she goes. "Don't forget to wipe your feet."

You know, there's really no point him wiping his feet if all he's gonna do is follow her by stepping in her goopy footprints. But whatever. But be warned, he's gonna roll his optics as he does, which is a true test of balance and coordination and a testament to how committed Deadlock is to demonstrating how very little he doesn't listen to her ~~even as he does~~.

"Too bad. Proper Decepticons," Which, just as a reminder, Flashpoint, you are not, "Celebrate victories with engex." Autobots probably have, he doesn't know, tea parties or something with doilies and raised pinkies and scrap like that.

"Gun wasn't fully charged!" Don't blame him. He'd fired it off till it ran out of juice. It's this place and their crappy electrical system taking forEVER to charge a simple pulse blaster.

His life: the hardest.

That's called irony Deadlock, wrapped in humor so dry it's probably too brittle to actually be funny. Welp, guess you'll just have to clean her carpets later then! After the optic rolling is done, because that looks like it takes a lot of effort.

Not that Flashpoint herself is looking. No, she's trying not to think of the last time they were both here together...and how different it is now. Typical for her, once the fighting's done, how should she act? Frag if she knows. But hey, engex makes things better right? "Oh, I have that too. You just have to ask--" oh but she does turn around for this one, extra emphasis on the sweet little grin, "--nicely."

That's more sarcasm Deadlock, because she's going to wave him towards the kitchen anyway. It's not like he doesn't know where everything is. "Can charge your weapons in there too," Hint, HINT. "I'm gonna do something about this walking biohazard condition." Seriously. The viscosity of this slime is more than mildly disturbing, particularly the places it's getting into. Hopefully the standard cleanser will do the job?

Hey, if he cleans her carpets, it's because she got goop on them and he doesn't trust fancy schmancy Autobots to get things clean. And now, look at this, he has to get that brittle bad joke off it, too. Great.

Right. Keep dreaming, Flashpoint. "Hnf. I know where you keep it. I can just slaggin' take some." Because Decepticon....who has cleaned your apartment before. Shut up.

Part of him wants to make the point that while she's showering he could break stuff, burn the place down, steal all her grenades, a whole host of other things, but that would make him the bad guy. He always hated stealing, hated when he'd been forced to steal. So instead, he's just gonna wave his hand. "Good, because you smell gross."

Well Deadlock's clearly got the mojo for cleaning duty, and it's a chance to show off how much better at it than she is right? He is clearly the superior ~~maidbot~~, ~~maintenance droid~~, ~~domestic power mistress~~, keeper of cleanliness. So by all means, have at it!

"Tch. I might have moved it since then." Shut up. She's giving you permission and you better like it, SO THERE.

And good luck stealing her grenade collection because she DID move that. At least it's not under the bed anymore, (she had no idea how virulent dust bunny breeding was under there, holy frag). "Well not for long. And you'll get your turn so don't even think of joining me!" As in, she just made you think about, so think about it some more than then do it.

One day. One day he'll get the better of a verbal spar with her. She's like Wing, but with words. And snarkier.

"Guess I'm going to have to look, then." Oh yeah? How'd you like a Decepticon rummaging through your underwear drawer, Flashpoint?

Go take your shower, because he's got grenades of yours to name.

...except now he's thinking of joining her. Because of last time. Uh.

....

.....

"....don't tell me what I can't think!" A SCATHING retort!

Yeeeeah the weapons she uses are far more blunt, verbal and physical. Little does Deadlock know though, that even if she puts up a strong front, he's got a wedge through into the softer parts. It's been a long time since anyone managed that. Hell if she's going to admit it, but if his aim is true...

"Have fun!" she calls back, knowing the engex is exactly where it was the last time he was here. "And bring me some too!" Because if he's in there serving, he might as well pour two, right?

Meanwhile, she's going to turn the water on and take a little time to cool down her engine. The thrill of battle always sings in her systems for a while afterward, giving her excess energy, and having him here isn't exactly helping her chill out. The things she's contemplating, yeah, those aren't helping either. AT ALL.

"You bet I'm gonna have fun." Brace yourself for little faces drawn on all your stuff, Flashpoint. Because he's not evil, but he's sure not nice. And you deserve it. Little faces on your grenades, at the bottom of your engex glass...he is going to keep himself plenty busy while she's bathing because otherwise he's...gonna end up thinking about her bathing.

That would probably not be smart.

Or at least good for his dignity.

Not that she ever was.

He's just going to make a nice grumpy racket while she's bathing. Maybe even sing a few Decepticon songs, as he rummages.

He better not touch that one grenade, the one that matches his, that's already got a scowly face drawn on it and is set aside in a spot all its own for TOTALLY no reason at all. It's not special or anything so don't even ask.

Flashpoint's not really good for anyone's dignity, especially her own, as she briefly considers rubbing one out right here in the shower. Risk of discovery versus potential calming factor; hmm, touch choice. She's letting the hot water roll over her shoulders and down her back paneling while she thinks, trying to briskly apply cleanser to the goopiest areas, when the racket in the other room comes to her audios. "Hey don't break anything out there!" Including the windows with that singing. (Dont listen to her Deadlock, she's just jealous.)

She can't handle the awesome of Decepticon drinking songs. Which would be better with actual drinking, but, hey, he's working on that right now.

What the....

Oh, look at this: engex exactly where it had been before, and after she'd told him she'd moved it. SNEAKY, Flashpoint, but Deadlock is too crafty for you.

So crafty that he clearly needs to gloat about this. Obviously. So prepare to have your privacy violated, Flashpoint, as Deadlock bursts into the washrack, holding a ration of engex, triumphantly. Hope you weren't doing anything....intimate.

No, clearly she can't. Not while sober anyway, and not while she can't sing along and drown out the rest of the awful.

Not that Deadlock's awful actually, but you never heard her say that, clear?

Besides, Flashpoint's in the washroom where she can barely hear anything, not even the fall of his footplates. Because otherwise she wouldn't be flicking open her interface panel to let the water flow over the closed covers. At least she's got most the goop off now, except for what's stuck in all those pesky seams.

Have an extremely wide-eyed ladybot Deadlock, frozen in place, staring at you like she's got her hand in the cookie jar.

She should do less singing and more, you know, stuff with those weird squishy bumpers in that other alt she has. Those were...weird.

And because she's an Autobot, it's obviously her fault that Deadlock's optics fly, as if by expressmail, right to her, uh, cookie jar. Yeah, he thought he was doing something gloaty by finding her engex. She's...got him beat.

Dammit.

*COUGH*

*AWKWARD NOT MOVING*

*CASUAL DRINKING OF VICTORY ENGEX*

"Carry on." No, seriously, don't let Deadlock stop you.

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this thread is my current not guilty pleasure

ditto