2015-02-14 Pick Yer Bunk
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Pick Yer Bunk|
|Participants||Knock Out, Rumble, Breakdown, Slugfest|
|Summary||Knock Out lays claim to the best habsuite money can buy.|
Lost Light: Habsuites -- Habsuites
While the habsuites are all shared, one can be reassured that each contains a workstation, a nice big monitor screen, space for bots in their alt modes, and recharge slabs for both individuals. They might have to fight over who gets the slab by the window, however.
If there's one thing Knock Out is good at, it's laying claim to things. Thus it is that he has chosen the best habsuite he could find for him and Breakdown to share, and is now lounging in the open doorway, half in the habsuite, half in the hallway. It doesn't look like any possessions have made it inside yet. It is possible that this is Breakdown's job. Knock Out is busying himself with scrolling through a data pad, maybe making a list, possibly checking it twice.
The lift opens, and a tiny figure emerges onto the habsuite level. A tiny, scowling figure, who probably only comes up to the average mech's knee-joint, if that. This particular mini is smoking an enercig, and is muttering darkly to himself. "This is where we gotta hole up? Whatta joke. Bad enough I gotta join the crew of the Starship 'Dork'..."
"What's that I hear?" Knock Out's gaze lifts, and then his hand rises to cup around his ear. "Is that the dulcet tones of the kindest and most generous of Soundwave's team of cassettes?" Could it be? Could it?
Rumble pauses, glancing around in surprise until his optics locate Knock Out. Then, his mean scowl turns into a broad grin. "Well I'll be <CENSORED>!!! It sure the frag is, how you been, Knock Out?? Whatcha doin' on this heap?? How'd that loser 'Captain' get a quality guy like you on here?? I got questions!"
Knock Out 's smile curves into being with a certain smugness. Yes, he /is/ quality, isn't he? "Well, hardly much going on on Cybertron that doesn't make me want to throw myself in a smelting pit. And Breakdown seems to think Soundwave's the one left to follow, so--" He flaps a hand dismissively.
"Yeah, I hear ya. Cybertron ain't inna good way right now." Rumble leans up against the side of the habsuite. "An' Soundwave always knows what he's doin', for sure. Although I didn't see this comin', to be real honest. I really didn't think he was gonna join up. But where he goes...the whole tape crew follows." He smirks. "Either of ya seen anyone else on board other than a bunch of Autobot map nerds?"
"Besides your team? I think Soundwave convinced a few of the Seekers on board. Even think I might have seen Slog around." Knock Out looks particular baffled at that one. One Monstructor piece without the rest of the team? "It's definitely mostly Autobot map nerds, though, you are very correct," he adds solemnly. "Still better than sitting around waiting for someone to blow up my head for coughing."
"Yeah. Sucks, don't it. Well at least we still got SOME of the crew on board. Lissen, though. Worst they can do is brig us. Right? Don't you be scared of tellin' the 'Captain' what you really think about him, cause he can't do <CENSORED>. He really can't. I told him he was a big nerd. Right to his face. He knew it was the truth." Rumble smirks. "I'm never, ever gonna be ANY of their 'friends'. They can go <CENSORED> a rusty cogwheel. An' that clown with the flames ain't never gonna be my captain. I take orders from Soundwave."
"Good for you," Knock Out tells Rumble with all deserved seriousness. "I mean, who did his paint job, anyways? An empurata?" Hah hah forced societal disfiguration is hilarious. "I'm not worried about them. We all know who's who on this ship."
Rumble chuckles. "Probably! Someone who wanted to see everyone else suffer from the ugliness of a bad design, that's for sure!" He grins wickedly for a moment, then it fades to a quiet uncertainty. "...Hope you don't mind me hangin' out here for a while. You're the first familiar face I seen on this dump. I won't take up too much room," he jokes.
"You're more than welcome," Knock Out replies. "It's a free-ish ship, I think. As far as ships go. Hierarchy, but no need to ask if standing and chatting a habsuite hallway is okay." Glancing down with a smirk, he says, "And you /are/ particularly compact."
"Yeah, I travel light, let's just put it that way," Rumble says with a smirk. "You seem to be better with this higher-arky business, I don't like takin' orders from no one. Too soon, it's just too soon. How do you do it without punchin' mechs in the face?"
"Well, I don't usually do the punching myself; Breakdown is considerably more fond of it," Knock Out replies carelessly. "It's not as if I was ever in charge /during/ the war. I will admit that serving under another medic might -- chafe."
Breakdown has not, so far, punched anything today, or if he has, it has not been with sufficient force to flake or crack his paint. He rumbles along through the habsuits in his alt-mode, truck gleaming mostly blue with paint shades of the car he once was in the red highlights, his spare tire a solid protuberance. Most of what he is hauling is relatively small scale and involves Knock Out's maintenance and self-care regimen but since it's packed up, this is not actually immediately visible on viewing him.
"Speakin' of which, here he comes right now!" Rumble exclaims, grinning enthusiastically as yet ANOTHER teammate (read: cool person on an otherwise nerd-infested ship) arrives. "Hey, wassup!!"
"Oh, there you are," Knock Out says, straightening up a bit from his lean. "I was starting to think you got cornered by Ultra Magnus wanting to teach you the Autobot code or something." He pauses in sudden horror. "You don't think they're going to try that, do you?"
Because Breakdown is currently in his vehicle mode, he does not shrug, but the faint rumble of his voice is like the low grind of an engine, puttering down to an idling hum; he says: "Frag /that/." He turns, wheeling about to ease backward into the habsuite over which Knock Out has stood sentinel, just long enough to revert to root mode, leave the packed up crates of belongings on the floor, and then stand straight and solid as he steps forward.
"Hey, Rumble," Breakdown says, massive and solid as he trundles back out into the hall. "We've got to do what orders are, not stand around gettin' indoctrinated in stupid Autobot scrap."
"Tell me about it! I'm hopin' Soundwave's gonna check in soon an' give us the rundown on how we gotta deal with these <CENSORED> losers," Rumble exclaims. "Cause if I ain't got orders to call the orange clown 'Captain', I'm gonna call him somethin' more fitting. Like Flamin' Aftplate."
Knock Out snorfles quietly with a sound that Chromedome might wonder how to replicate. "That does sound fitting," he agrees, moving to nudge the crates Breakdown has left inside a little farther into the room for future unpacking. Can't be too careful with all these Autobots around.
Breakdown's frown grooves deep into the plating of his face, red in a field that is mostly otherwise blue. "What if we got orders?" he says. He slants a sidelong look at Knock Out, his heavy fist set against his opposite palm as his thumb drags lightly over the knuckles. It is possible that there has been some disagreement here. "I ain't here to make nice but I ain't here to get in trouble with the boss neither. We're going to be in this tin can 'til Soundwave says we're not."
"Soundwave's always got a good reason for everything, even if it don't seem like it at the time," Rumble insists. "So if he does say that yeah, we gotta play by whatever rules...it's just what's gotta be done. Just...trust his methods. Cause he knows what he's doin'." Suddenly it would seem that Rumble is the sage giver of advice, but he always gets like that when the topic happens to be Soundwave.
"Yes, yes, all those things you both said. Follow Soundwave's orders, play nice if told, et cetera, et cetera." Knock Out tucks his things nicely in a corner of the habsuite. Nice things.
"Fill me with confidence, Knock Out," Breakdown rumbles dourly. It's weird to use rumble as a verb in a scene with Rumble.
"I'm bein' serious, mech," Rumble chuckles at Knock Out as he watches the duo set up the habsuite. "I never used to believe it till I got to know him better, but he always knows what he's doin'. There ain't never a time when his mind ain't workin' up some plan. He's got SOME reason to want us to go on this crap hauler. An' it's a good reason."
"I'm being serious!" Knock Out claims indignantly, turning back to Rumble with hands on hips. "I'm here, aren't I?"
"Mmphnn," grumps Breakdown, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Knock Out's assessment of his own seriousness. He glances at Rumble, saying, "I'm sure it's a good reason."
Rumble grins at Knock Out's ornery reaction. "It's cool. Wanna enercig?" he offers. They seem to be tape-sized cygars, however. Probably not a very satisfying smoke for anyone much bigger than a cassette-con.
Slugfest capers into the area, running a few circles around Rumble.
"I think that might last me about one second," Knock Out says, not without regret. Poor tiny cassette-sized enercig. "I'd better start unpacking before someone else sneaks in and touches something." Because that's -- a thing that might happen? Maybe. His things are precious.
This time when Breakdown makes a noise it is a low, "Hnh," and then he goes, "Oh, were you planning on unpacking your own scrap? Good to know," with a kind of crotchety humor that nobody will ever believe is serious irritation. He folds his arms, tilting slightly to the side as he thunks a shoulder pauldron into the frame of the open door to the habsuite that Knock Out has claimed, and then says, "You know where you're gonna be?"
As Sluggy comes scampering into view, Rumble nearly falls over with surprise. "Bro! C'mere! It's you!! Wow, this dump just got even better!" He smiles with all the exuberance of a child who's just found his lost pet. "Yesss!! I am so glad you're here, you just don't *know*."
Slugfest yays and plops tail down on the dec, staring up at his tapebro. "Yus, am here!"
"I /always/ unpack my own things," Knock Out says (lies) as he disappears into the hab suite to do just that.
Breakdown snorts. He glances down across Slugfest and Rumble both, and says, "Good, too. Wouldn't want to think of none of you gettin' left behind. If one has to be stuck in this thing, that is."
Rumble nods at Breakdown. "Naw, we're like...the ultimate band of bros. Soundwave's gonna get all of us on board here if he can. The whole group. We gotta go together, kinda like family. I know that sounds like crap but I swear it's the truth." He pulls a small bag of stolen batteries out from subspace, and scatters them out in front of Sluggy. "Here, l'il snack for the road."
Slugfest noms the batteries, picking them up one by one, his lil thagomizer swishing side to side in contentment. "Yay, snax!"
Chuckle low in his throat, as if ground against the sides of its column, Breakdown shrugs back away from the frame of the door, heavy boot scraping metal against the decking beneath. "More of us the better I say," he says. "Ship full of Autobots and all."
"Welp, if you gotta go, it ain't a problem, I'll keep watch out here for any, uh, losers," Rumble offers to Breakdown. "Cause we're gonna need it. Can't trust none of the nerds on this ship." He peers at Slugfest. "Hey, you seen Soundwave around yet?"
Slugfest shakes his head. "No seen yet. Was looking for! Maybe him still getting stuff?"
"Yeah," Breakdown agrees. He tips his head to them both, and then says, "Later," and turns to trundle back inside the habsuite after Knock Out. Possibly to get in the way while the other mech unpacks.