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2014-01-14 Free Him

From Transformers: Lost and Found

Free Him
Date 2017/01/14
Location Lost Light - Recreation -- Oil Baths
Participants Ravage, Blackstorm, Frisk
Summary Who needs to be freed?

Blackstorm knows two things for certain: he still misses Ravenwing, and being sober sucks. The pilot is slumped over in one of the oil baths, barely keeping his helm above the surface, and puffing away at a cig clenched between his dentals. Being sober has made Blackstorm more obnoxious than usual. Whenever anyone passes by the oil bath, he stirs himself for the sole purpose of throwing a half-hearted splash of oil at their pedes. The floor around the bath is slick with his efforts. The minibot's rude laughter echoes through the room.

"Watch it. Floor's slick," Blackstorm says to his next victim with a wicked grin. Wow, being sober may suck but this makes him feel better. For all of five seconds.

Perhaps the saddest part is that a good portion of the crew probably don't realize Blackstorm is in a bad mood at all, or care to, they just sum the obnoxious behavoir up to 'Decepticon'. Other Decepticons, on the other hand, would probably catch on this is a bit excess even for them... but then you have the problem of finding one that actually cares. So it is kind of a damned if do, damnd if don't situation.

"Didn't anyone tell you it's dangerous to smoke near hot oil?" As usual there is little way to tell just how long Ravage has been perched atop one of the storage cabinets until he made his presence known, and that's the way he prefers it.

<FS3> Frisk rolls Dramatics: Success. (1 7 4 3 1 1 1)

That warning comes a little too late for one Eukarian. He is hurrying into the oil baths for a quick rinse of his feathers, just an in and out. Until he hits the oil on the side. Almost like an old comedy act frisk skids for several feet before his feet literally slip out from under him, causing the mech to land flat on his back, legs in the air. He even falls melodramatically, "Ow. Could have used that warning a little sooner."

Someone is lecturing him. Blackstorm's reaction? "HAH! Did you see that one?" the minibot shouts, pulling himself up to lean on the edge of the pool. The cig wriggles in his clenched dentals as he tries to suppress another bout of laughter. "Wish I had that one on film. It would be a lot better in slow motion!"

Having taken care of the really important thing, he finally glances around at the strange voice. And screams. The cig falls from his lip components, extinguishing on the ground with a loud hiss. "FRAG YOU. What do you want?!" he shouts, swimming as fast as he can to the other edge of the pool. All Blackstorm knows and cares about is that Ravage is always around Soundwave, and Blackstorm wants nothing to do with Soundwave.

Those first few moments of panic always amuse Ravage, though it doesn't show past a few twitchs of the end of his tail hanging off the edge of the cabinet. "Your moping has not gone unnoticed," is all he replies to Blackstorm, flatly. Even if he did possibly record that little pratfall. The terrible twins would get a laugh out of it, even if he doesn't really care personally.


Frisk hefts himself up into a sitting position, blinking his visor for several seconds before looking down at his feathers and making a face... as best a face he can make. Now his feathers are all wet...granted that was going to be inevitable here but he wants it to be on his own terms frag it! He turns to say something to Blackstorm- his name's Blackstorm right?- when he freezes upon spotting the furwalker then the other minibot's reaction. That... isn't good. "Hey, what's life without living on the edge?" That he can respond to about the cig... he doesnt know what to do with the moping bit.

Once he's across the pool from Ravage, Blackstorm finally slows his mad dash. The minibot purses his lip components when he hears Ravage's words. "Who asked you, mom?" he mutters under his breath. Now that he's bunking with Starstruck, he's for sure been watching one too many terran movies.

Grabbing the edge of the pool, he hauls himself up onto solid ground. His escape course leaves him rather close to Frisk. "You made me lose a perfectly good cig. That would put anyone in a mood," he speaks up, louder. But Frisk's words bring a flash of surprise to Blackstorm's optics, and soon he's falling into another fit off laughter. "This guy?" he adds, pointing to Frisk. "I like this guy. He doesn't make me lose perfectly good cigs."

There may be a faint bit of optic rolling there as Blackstorm goes several times to redirect the conversation, but Ravage's optics are so narrow it's really hard to tell. "I am more interested in things people are -not- asking about.." But again the conversation is shifted towards the feathered scalewalker instead. The felinoid cocks his head a little to one side. A faint hff of some kind escapes him. "Looks like he might try to steal them though."

Frisk gives blackstorm a quick bow before suddenly shifting down into alt mode. There is a split moment where Blackstorm will be looking in the beady eyes of a microraptor before Frisk is hopping further away from the bath and promptly begins to shake himself free of excess oil- feathers floofing up as he does. Ravage's comment gets a lizard hiss and aggravated tail flick, "Whats that supposed to mean, furwalker?" Ok, he knows exactly what that means, but he doesnt have to admit it.

Frisk may be moving away, but Blackstorm is not going to let him. The minibot tails after the strange mecha with a curious glint in his optics behind his visor. "Oh, you've got sticky fingers? I'm a slagheap when I'm sober. We all have our faults," Blackstorm waves it off with a flick of his hand.

When he's close enough, Blackstorm tries to throw an arm around the microraptor. "Hey, don't I know you? You were the guy who was slightly taller than me, right?" he asks. "Perfect friend matierial. You don't even have to steal a cig! I'll just give you one. Because friends and all, right? We can hang out and just be glad our fault isn't being creepy."

Blackstorm throws a glance at Ravage.

"Does it mean something?" Ravage replies with all the flatness one might expect from a cat playing indifference. "You are the one that got defensive."

You're going to have to do better than that Blackstorm. That's hardly an insult in this case.

"Well I-" Frisk pauses, squinting at Ravage, "... really can't argue against that." He settles to shake himself one more time as Blackstorm throws his arm around him, claws scrabbling against the wet floor a bit to keep balance. "Yeah, Blackstorm right?" Though, now in alt mode Frisk is most definitely not taller. "And thank you, I am friend material." take that creepy cat! "....Why are you up there anyways?" Not that he expects any less from a furwalker really.

Blackstorm's plan is going perfectly! "You really do seem like a great guy," Blackstorm agrees with Frisk, giving a sharp nod. "That's why I've got to apologize for this."

Now that he's in a good position for it, Blackstorm tries to give Frisk a good shove. While he's probably not strong enough to dump the mecha in the pool like he hopes, all he needs is enough slip and slide to distract the cat for a second or two. Blackstorm wants to be far away from him, and the minibot has found escape is more successful with a distraction.

Blackstorm does not stick around to see if his shove is a success. He is off like a bolt.

"Because I can." Because it's easier to spy on people but Ravage isn't going to say as much out loud. Spying is still his job, even if it's just to monitor the crew not getting too out of hand these days. "So little mechs like you can't get in my way." That, on the other hand is just cat catting a jerk. And then Blackstorm goes to push Frisk into the oil... which actually gets an almost invisible smirk out of the felinoid. The raptor's own fault for thinking a Decepticon was being entirely sincere.


Frisk lets out an indignant squawk as he is shoved, feathered arms flailing as he tries to regain his balance. No no no- Not the oil! It's clear the scalewalker isn't going to be able to recover, though, so Frisk gives in to his petty side. By Chela if he's going down Blackstorm is going down with him! Letting out his second hiss of the day, Frisk strikes out forward with his jaws. He fully has the intent of sinking his sharp little teeth into whatever limb of the minibot's he can grab to yank him down with him.

<FS3> Opposed Roll -- Frisk=reaction+reaction Vs Blackstorm=reaction+reaction < Frisk: Great Success (8 7 2 8 1 6 3 8) Blackstorm: Good Success (1 2 4 6 5 4 7 7) < Net Result: Frisk wins - Solid Victory

<FS3> Blackstorm rolls Escaping: Success. (4 5 8 6 3 5 4 5 3)

Blackstorm gives a surprised yelp when Frisk's dentals snag his wrist, dragging the minibot back towards the pool with him. No, no, no! This is not the plan. Blackstorm starts to lose his balance, but at the very edge of the pool he manages to magnetize one of his pedes to the floor with an audible thunk.

The momentum of Frisk's fall continues to pull Blackstorm down, however, and he's left with his helm dunked underneath the pool and his legs still firmly stuck on the outside. The minibot flails with all his strength and pulls himself back to the surface with a gasp and a burst of oil. It takes him a moment to regain his senses. And keep running.

It wasn't any sort of useful information... but it was amusing, Ravage wouldn't deny that. Especially when it's a beastformer playing turnabout.... Then again. "Maybe I'll give Rumble a playback so he can send you some pointers and pranks."

Frisk ... is now kinda screwed. It should be put on all records that Frisk is a microraptor, not a duck. Meaning there is a reason he never fully submerges himself in any liquid. He can't swim. Instantaneously Frisk begins to struggle and flail in the deeper bath, feather's getting heavy with oil and pulling him down even further. Not good! Not good! Not good! He tries to claw his way out but surprise surprise claws on tile doesn't really help and he is starting to panic too much to transform back

That gets Blackstorm's attention for a fleeting moment, Ravage's words moreso than Frisk's struggle. The minibot skids to a halt just long enough to glance over his shoulder with a snort. "No thanks! Tell your boss that my moping is none of his business. Y'all just keep away from me, alright?!" he calls back. Blackstorm shudders, once again thinking back to that day drunk Soundwave gave him A Talk.

He almost wants to retch thinking of how weird and creepy it was. Or get really wasted. Preferably the second one, if only he wasn't flat broke. The minibot returns to making his final sprint to the exit.

"Technically, being in command of the Decepticons upon this ship, it is." Not that Blackstorm is still here to hear the counter-argument. Minor annoyance. Several minutes follow before Ravage drops down from the cabinets, careful of the oil puddles left by the previous splashing. "Someone is going to be upset about cleaning this up." The feline can be heard padding away from the bath, likely leaving as well. Poor Frisk, all alone in the bottom of the bath. That they can't really drown is good or bad depending on your opinion of being stuck there alone for a long time....

Or about an hour or so before that one bath does finally drain out as the cleaning cycle finally empties, because oil doesn't flow very quickly. But did someone else come along and do that, or did Ravage switch it on before he left? The world will never know.

Frisk can tell he’s alone when no one bothers to help him... or he's learned they are complete fraggers and he will have to add Blackstorm to his hit list... actually that's happening either way. When he finally manages to calm himself enough to think rationally the Eukarian switches back to robot mode but it is too late for him to get out- his feathers will just drag him down if he tries to get back to the surface. That leaves him with only one thing to do... call someone for help... With a small whine he calls his conjunx.

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