2017-09-20 The Last Decepticon Pirate

From Transformers: Lost and Found

Revision as of 16:29, 21 September 2017 by Sao (Talk | contribs) (Created page with "{{Log |logtitle=The Last Decepticon PIrate |logdate=2017/09/20 |location=Security Breakroom |participants=Sideswipe, Breakdown, |summary=Sideswipe thinks this is HILARIOUS. Br...")

(diff) ← Older revision | Latest revision (diff) | Newer revision → (diff)
The Last Decepticon PIrate
Date 2017/09/20
Location Security Breakroom
Participants Sideswipe, Breakdown
Summary Sideswipe thinks this is HILARIOUS. Breakdown rozzes it.

The haven, the chill zone, the playspace, security's breakroom. Sideswipe knows it well. The mech spends far more time than is neccesary in the room during his off shifts, usually socializing or playing darts or just plain hiding out. Right now he has a legitimate reason to be here that isn't yellow with a bad attitude, his shift just concluded and he's seeing if he can catch someone to go prowl the city with. Or talk. Talking is good.

Sideswipe's forgone a chair today, standing in an open-ish area of the breakroom and juggling a set of blue cubeish things. He hasn't managed to drop one yet but it's a near thing.

Breakdown arrives. He hasn't spent a lot of time off-shift in here since his return from his adventure on the jungle planet, but the lure of the breakroom for off-duty security officers is just kind of universal. Clank-click, goes his step as he trundles his way in. Clank-click. The field prosthetic has been replaced by a less temporary measure, but nobody just has a foot lying around that no one is using, and it's possible that the medic involved in the treatment process is a LITTLE ANNOYED at Breakdown, because-- there he is, clacking about on the blunt-ended instrument that is his not-foot right now.

His single eye roves the room and lingers for a moment on Sideswipe. Oh. Someone is in here. Breakdown frowns a little, and then grunts a greeting with the jerk of his chin in an upnod. "Enh." Chipper.

The gentle thwip-smack-tic of Sideswipe's juggling ends with two loud splaps against the ground. What a weird step sound- And there's Breakdown. With a peg leg. And an eyepatch.

... Like a pirate. Another splap sounds when the mech drops the last of his juggling cubes, vents wheezing while he fights with a sudden fit of coughing laughter. "H- primus- Hey! Breakdo- Ican'tdothis- Breakdown! Sup?!"

Breakdown shifts his weight. He can't really fold his arms over his chest -- the broad bulk of that bust is just too much for proper arm-folded glowering -- but he can tilt at an angle into the frame of the door, blocking it from closes again, as he leans his weight on his elbow and drops the hook of his hand to his hip. He stands there, turning the weighted glare of his single eye upon Sideswipe, and waits until the gigglefit appears to be mostly over before he says: "You done?"

Sideswipe looks up again, cackles and gives Breakdown a thumbs up. "Arrr matey, I'm right as rain." His attempt at an accent is awful, his vents are hiccuping trying to get back into their right rythm and he's still half-doubled over, grinning like an idiot. "Geeze, what happened to you?"

"What." This is the sound of a joke flying about two feet over Breakdown's head, whizzing in the gap between his helm and the frame of the door that can't close while he looms in it. The plate of his brow furrows in a deep groove. He looks down the length of his bulky blue frame towards the blunted end of his prosthetic. "Fraggin' squishy disgustin' zombie plant things ate my foot. Like, we went out in the field and some weird scrap happened to me, as per freakin' usual. What's funny."

"You need to watch more movies." Screech goes the chair Sideswipe's decided to appropriate toward the giant blue jelly seat. Spinning the metal chair around he waves Breakdown over toward the jelly chair. "Hey, come sit. Zombies? Dude you've gotta tell me more, all of it. All the juicy details- ew. Bad wording. C'mooon!"

"Enh." Breakdown grunts his general disapproval of the 'movie' idea. "Waste of time," he says. "Starstruck loves that crap. I don't get it." He clank-clicks his way across the room, contemplates the chair, and then tips into it, letting it slorp and squish around him as he stares up at the ceiling with a deep furrow across his brow. "It ain't that interestin'. We went to a gross humid planet where everythin' was moist and there were a lot of dead guys and weird ... fungus things that attacked us and ate my foot. Eltee got his artifact out of it and then we went home."

"At least watch the pirate ones!" Sideswipe whines, leaning forward and balancing on his heels with the chair. "Get in on the joke, it's less funny when you're all clueless. Then it's just making fun." He props his chin up on crossed arms, optics wide for the explanation. "Plants... ate your foot." That's the important takeaway, right?

"What is this, Earth crap?" Breakdown looks suspicious. "Man, I hate organic scrap. Fungoid ... spore garbage all over us. We were in decontamination for like, an hour or somethin'." He wriggles a little in the seat, resettling on the flat of his spare tire weighted on his back, and makes a face.

"Pretty sure you were in decontamination 'cause it ate your leg." Sideswipe tips his head, still grinning. After a moment he affects a solemn and grave air, offlining his optics briefly. "Thank you for your sacrifice to keep us all safe." A straight face he's having trouble keeping. Finally, like it's an afterthought he adds. "Didn't most of the Decepticons end up as pirates?"

Lifting his leg and eyeballing his prosthetic, Breakdown makes another face, an even more grimacey face, and then goes, "Fair point," before letting the thing clack back down to the floor again. The chair squishes and squeaks with the shift of his weight. His smile tugs at his mouth, the edge of a grin of his own, as he returns blithely, "Dunno, didn't most of the Autobots end up bein' pencil-pushin' aftsnoots?"

"I, for one, am offended that you'd call me out like this." Sideswipe pitches his voice down, it sounds like he might be trying to emulate Prowl but you never know. He's very bad at this. "There's nothing wrong with a good snootin' of an aft and some prime pencils. Organization is the foundation of a proper reconstruction effort!" That last bit is definitely quoted from someone else.

"Hey, I ain't one to judge a mech for snootin' afts if that's his druthers." Breakdown stretches out his arms and then folds them behind his head. He's never going to be able to get out of this chair so he might as well settle in. "Suppose I gotta judge him for piracy, though, on account of bein' the law these days," he adds with a complacent, thoughtful air.

"Good thing I'm an autobot and not some scurvy Decepticon." Sideswipe tilts the chair back with a loud clack from all four legs returning to the floor. "I hope we see some pirates before your foot's fixed- just so they can get arrested by you." He gestures to Breakdown's all-of-him, then snorts and breaks into laughter again. Pirates getting arrested by a pirate.

"Alllll right." Breakdown shifts forward in the jelly chair, dropping his arms so that he can hook one across his knee and peering, cyclopean and continuingly baffled, in Sideswipe's direction. "I hate to tell you this, but purple ain't got a monopoly on lawbreakers, Swipe." He considers for a moment and then adds, "Or afthats."

Sideswipe cocks his head to the side, considering. "Well, duh." He shrugs easily, taking the correction in stride. "I meant pirates 'cause you look like a pirate. Not- Not 'cause you're a 'Con." Then the last bit catches up. "HEY!" He shout-whines indignantly. "Rude!"

Breakdown grins. "Sorry, should I lift my pinky when I make jokes, is that the civilized thing to do?" Then he asks, "Is there any liquor in here?"

"What a barbarian." Sideswipe quips, grin sharp but maintaining some humor. "Don't thiiink so. Just regular ol' fuel rations. Can't have us getting charged on the job." Actually. "Other'n special reserves is there any engex on the ship anymore?" He hasn't been paying attention- Did Swerve recover?

"Prob'ly not." Breakdown looks momentarily glum. "I'll have to limp all the way down to one of the places in town. I was just hopin' somebody was hidin' somethin' in here. Scrap." He scrubs his hand over his face, points of his nails scraping along the lines of his features.

"If you ask reaaal nice I might be able to scrounge something up." Sideswipe offers tentatively, kicking his feet up and trying to balance back on two legs of the chair. He's almost got it, but went maybe a bit far, the legs shoot out and his back smacks the floor. Oof.

"I ain't a very nice guy," Breakdown confesses to Sideswipe, tilting his head forward with a scratch along the back of his neck. "That's a secret that a lot of people don't know about me. I'm a real tough, nasty piece of work." He bites thoughtfully at the inside of his cheek, canting his head -- still tipped forward -- to refocus his single eye on Sideswipe. "What kinda nice you got in mind?"

"Psh." Sideswipe waves off the confession from his place firmly planted on the floor. Whatever, everyone's got skeletons dude. "Trade me a photo op and I'll get you some engex. I've got this hat..."

blog comments powered by Disqus