2015-06-24 In Vino Veritas
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|In Vino Veritas|
|Location||Lost Light: Recreation -- Swerve's|
|Participants||Blast Off, Brainstorm, Rodimus, Slugfest, Soundwave|
|Summary||Friendly friend talks.|
Often referred to as the heart of the ship (by Swerve), the bar is rarely empty, rarely quiet. Central to the whole is the bar itself: just tall enough for a minibot to serve over the edge and lined with stools capable of accommodating bots of any height. Large, clear vessels stand behind the bar, containing the brews of the day. Behind the bar, an engex distillery assures there's always something new.
Round tables are scattered across the floor. Seats fold up from the floor beneath. Large boots along the sides of the room have room for a half-dozen or more, if they don't mind getting cozy, while monitors here and there find occasional use showing old vids.
Soundwave hears everything.
Some things are easier to hear than others, especially when they are said loudly. Lately there has been somewhat of an increase in the tensions aboard the Lost Light between Decepticon and Autobot. At first Soundwave was willing to attribute such a thing to Whirl, that the once-Wrecker was merely in a mood. Yet, there are others that have helped to stir things up lately as well, such as Blurr. This early into the venture of Decepticons serving aboard the Lost Light, the defacto Decepticon 'leader' can't afford to have things go south. While he might wish the captain or Ultra Magnus would have come to him about such a thing, Soundwave knows too not to wait for such input before acting. So, he investigates on his own.
This is the first time he has been to Swerve'ls, at least since he inspected the ship upon arrival. Normally it is Rumble or Frenzy that tell him all about this place and what goes on here. As the main hub for inter-faction relations, Soundwave has come to see for himself. As he approaches the bar he opens his chest so that Ravage might spring free. The cat-bot stretches and then pads off to some dark corner of the establishment while Soundwave saddles up to the counter. "Your strongest concoction," he requests, tone flat, "And include a straw."
Smart money says that Swerve finds Soundwave intimidating, because there is no one else in this bar who gets their drink quite as quickly as the Decepticon leader does. This is a fact that Rodimus notes and remarks on from down the bar, calling, "Hey, what do I have to do to get better service around here? Murder a bunch of bystanders?" It's so hard to imagine where the rise in tension might be coming from. Surely he and his light little jokes do nothing to contribute to it!! At all!!
Soundwave does not believe that Rodimus could truly be behind the rise in tensions. For any Decepticon to be affected by the captain's comments would mean that they would have to take Rodimus seriously. Fortunately, the Lost Light is at that level of danger. "Perhaps," Soundwave cooly suggests, "If you ordered something requiring less preparation for ignition to be enjoyed, it could be delivered far more rapidly."
Blast Off is already here, having his customary glass of wine. Ahhh, wine. It helps make having to deal with Autobots just like *ugh* Whirl and *ew* Blurr more tolerable. Because without a little drink here and there he's not sure how else he's GOING to tolerate these Autofools. His trigger finger has already itched once or twice- or several times- though the Combaticon IS indeed trying to be on his best behavior. He understood what he was signing up for (kind of) and figured it at least got him into space, which he loves, and got the blasted control chip out of his head. So.... he'll just have to deal with these Autobots somehow. SOMEHOW. Oh yeah. Wine.
He takes a sip, then watches as Soundwave comes in. Subconsciously, the Combaticon straightens a little, trying to look presentable. He also tries not to THINK too hard, knowing what Soundwave is capable of- though a little of his annoyance with the Autobots probably shines through anyway. Rodimus over there isn't helping, by the way.
"Yeah, but then it wouldn't taste as good." Rodimus leans forward to reach over the edge of the bar so that he can rifle around, knocking things this way and that, before fetching an umbrella. Once he has it, he sits back. He doesn't even have a drink yet. Swerve watches this all with a vaguely anxious expression, but does not call Rodimus out because -- /Rodimus/. At least Rodimus doesn't break anything. Y-e-t. "You guys need to learn to stop and enjoy life a little more."
"It is difficult to enjoy life more when your allotment of it is so measured," Soundwave answers Rodimus. It is not that he wishes to engage the captain in such... rabble, yet, it is not as though he can go without saying anything. "There could be more enjoyment if there wasn't a vigilant need for caution." What with all of the rampant recklessness. That is what he means to suggest. With his drink in hand though, Soundwave brings it to his faceplate. The straw helps him to enjoy it without revealing anything unnecessarily. He turns his back to Swerve to observe the bar proper. He is silent for a moment, his visor scanning over the room. His mind scanning over the thoughts of all here? "Does it trouble you," he asks of Rodimus, seemingly at random.
A tiny stego enters the bar and clumsily tries climbing up a bar stool beside Soundwave! Upon closer inspection, it may appear that the tiny stego seems a little bit hammered!
Brainstorm's not here to actually order anything; he has his own flask on hand, like always. He's just here for the news and gossip, and because his workshop is presently occupied by a cloud of smoke and whatever's in the fire suppression. Up till now he'd been chatting with the guy sitting next to him, but he's one of the people who turn their heads at the sound of commotion. Well, this could get interesting, and voilitale, quite fast
Blast Off continues sipping his wine, the little hatch that he uses to drink opening to allow him to drink without revealing too much either. Faceplated Decepticons seem to want to keep their secrets, after all. For now he doesn't say anything. Aloof and above it all- that's this space shuttle's motto. Nor does he have any particular reason to engage the others right at this moment.
Rodimus sketches a gesture with the tip of his umbrella, drawing a loop that doubles around and trails off to the side, all in illustration of nothing more than casual ease. "I don't know. I manage okay." Any implication of recklessness sails ri-i-ight over his head. The question in his direction startles honest surprise for him. It's obvious from his puzzled squint (as well as his thoughts) that he's not sure what Soundwave's referring to. "Huh what?" he eloquently asks for clarification. "No...?"
"That more of the crew might trust *me* more than they do *you*." Soundwave states this as he casually stands and then kneels to collect Slugfest. With practiced, familiar ease he will assist the steggo up to the bar, as though is this automatic for him to do so. A reflex. Indeed, he is intimately familiar with Slugfest just as the minicon is with him. He then slides his own drink, with straw, towards the steggo. Soundwave is very much an enabler.
Slugfest's little feets paw air reflexively as he yays as he is picked up and placed on the counter. His thagomizer wags as he's offered the straw, latching onto it and slurping as if he hadn't refuelled in days. A well-energized stego is a happy stego!
Okay. That stings. A little. (A lot.) Rodimus's expression doesn't show it, but it's clear enough in the simmer and boil of his thoughts. He laughs, but while he might manage an easy expression, the sound rings hollow. "Gonna a hot day on Messatine before that's true." Other words bite and claw at the thin shred of restraint holding him back, but still -- he shows /some/ restraint. His awareness of a need to keep fighting between them at least /ostensibly/ friendly forces him to brighten his smile. "But I'm pretty sure your Cons are warming up to me. Right, guys?" he calls with a glance at the Decepticons present. He's happy to drag others in. Now tell him he's pretty.
Blast Off smirks a little at Soundwave's comment there, and it's possible a chuckling sort of huff escapes from him before he takes another sip of wine. He is a little torn- the Decepticon telepath is not exactly the guy you wanted to get on the wrong side of, and the Combaticon is still instinctively a bit wary of him... but then again, he IS a Decepticon, and right now it's actually kind of nice to be surrounded by several other Cons. It's a breath of fresh air, even.... if they breathed that is. When Rod asks him that question, one of Blast Off's optic ridges lifts up. Um. Instead of answering, he glances at Soundwave as if waiting to see what HE says first. Sorry, Rodimus.
Soundwave is used to the game that is politics. He observed the Senate, he served at Megatron's side and now too here must he play the game. His statement was as much for his fellow Cons in the room as it was a setup for the captain to make a stand. In truth, Soundwave loathes himself for having done it. But... for the greater good. Thus, instead of offering a rebuttal to Rodimus' assertion, Soundwave remains silent. Thus, it would appear that Rodimus has won. It also pains Soundwave to know that the captain will never recognize that for what it was. "A wise course of action." The Con leader waves Blast Off over to join them. "Please, answer your captain as honestly as you can." He will, of course, know the difference.
Rodimus narrows his eyes at Blast Off. He saw that. For all that he's learned to control his expression (somewhat) over the past four million years, he's still a naif in the world of politics. Not only is oblivious to what Soundwave did, there's no possible inkling of an inclination of understanding. Turning to regard Blast Off with a smile that grows indulgent as Swerve finally slides his drink into his waiting hand, Rodimus gestures. "Yeah, go on. This should be good. Total honesty. I won't take any offense and I absolve you from any offense or whatever from anything you say for the next, oh -- let's say two minutes. That's plenty of time."
The tiny stego keeps slurping down the drink through the straw. Then comes the unmistakable sound of a nearly empty glass, the straw straining to reach whatever's left on the bottom.
That glance intensifies into a prolonged stare as Soundwave tells Blast Off to "be honest". That's a surprisingly loaded statement, and the Combaticon's not actually sure how REALLY REALLY honest Soundwave wants him to be. But he does as requested and stands up, taking his wine with him as he comes closer to where Rodimus and the telepath discuss things. Sitting down nearby, he takes another sip before answering. He attempts to look aloof, unhurried, and unimpressed, but Soundwave can likely detect that he feels just a tad nervous. Honesty, wuuut? Rodimus is, once again, NOT HELPING EITHER. "Honesty," he repeats, voice flat. Honesty, riiight.
"Well, Rodimus is..." he delays by stopping to look over at the Captain, "...A very....colorful Captain. He... uh...." Think, think. The narrowing of the Autobot's optics and ...what, *two minutes*??!! causes the Combaticon's wing elevon to twitch slightly. "He ... well, he let me out of the brig." Never mind the favoritism he showed Whirl there but *whatever*. Still, the Decepticon /is/ still almost impressed (almost) anytime an Autobot actually lets a Con out of prison. Surely this sort of... "honesty" won't get him thrown right back in. He hopes.
Omitting various truths is still honesty... kind of, right? "He... he didn't get us killed when we were trapped in that odd ship with the alien." That's a compliment, right?
"It would appear then that the natural order to which expectations can be applied is to be maintained." Because that is what Blast Off's answer suggests, right? That Rodimus is well on the path to proper captaining? The Decepticons, especially Soundwave, are far more accustomed to ... a firmer hand. A direct plan, even if it was a failing one, as opposed to NO PLAN. Sometimes it is maddening to be on the bridge, to be keenly away of how little thought goes into things. Verses what Soundwave is used to. As he thinks about this he has gone creepily silent for a long moment. He does that.
In the background the music suddenly glitches, skips and then when it starts again the tune is an old folky beat from ancient Tarn.
"Not getting killed should indeed be considered an accomplishment for service on the Lost Light." Soundwave looks to Rodimus as he says this.
"Yes, thank you," Rodimus says, preening at the compliment to his paint. He straightens a little, angles to better catch the light. He is so colorful. AND? "Well, that's -- wow, seriously, that's all you've got?" He regards Blast Off somewhat critically. "Hey! We've barely gotten -- I mean, that first accident, sure, but. We've done okay!" His thoughts slither and slide but don't quite settle on any one thing.
"Well, I shouldn't have been thrown in the brig in the *first* place," Blast Off mutters before he thinks better of it, feeling as he does that Rodimus should have been grateful to get *that* much. Then with a blink, he adds, "....But... that is, I..." He tries to think of something else positive to say but... wow, that's so hard! The Combaticon frowns, optic ridges furrowing as his hand comes up, "I... yes! Soundwave is correct." Whether that was actually a compliment or not either. "And look, we do indeed remain functional." His enthusiasm is overhwleming. Really. REALLY.
Slugfest scampers towards Blast Off! "Has wines? Am thirsty!" the little stego says.
Soundwave says that in such a way to suggest they *should* be thankful for that, yet he has never been a bot to settle for half-measures. He did throw in with Megatron after all, and that bot never as comfortable with 'enough' of anything. He does reach out a hand though to lay on Blast Off's shoulder as a sign of support. Both to urge the combaticon to silence himself in regards to the brig talk and because, well, he agrees. That shouldn't of happened in the first place. They will work on fixing that.
He then turns his attention to ensure that Slugfest is doing okay.
Past Rodimus' leg, brushing right up against it, Ravage returns to this part of the room. As he *slips* by Rodimus he pads over to side by Soundwave's side. "For another day. Well, maybe. The day is not over yet."
"I threw Whirl in the brig, too," Rodimus points out, clearly feeling needled onto the defensive. "And when Breakdown and Grimlock got into it, Grimlock went too. I don't care if it is two Autobots, two Cons, or a Bot and a Con, or even if the NAILs get involved. You fight, you get brig time. Period."
/Twitching/ in surprise when Ravage brushes by, Rodimus glances down. "Man, you move quietly." He doesn't /quite/ make it an accusation, but he certainly reads uneasy.
Ravage, as an answer to Rodimus' compliment only looks more smug than he naturally does.
Blast Off looks over at Slugfest, stares a moment, deliberating if he wants to share... but with Soundwave there he probably better treat his cassettes with respect. So he pours a small bowl of wine and hands it to Slugfest. The Combaticon then stiffens slightly as Soundwave puts his hand on his shoulder... he's always been a bit standoffish, and physical contact tends to garner that kind of reaction. Glancing at the other Decepticon, though, it seems to be a show of support and thus he relaxes a little, giving Soundwave a small nod of understanding.
Rodimus gets a cool gaze, but he decides to do as Soundwave seems to wish and not to argue further. Seems wise anyway. But he does ask, "Very well. Fair's fair. And... you will... continue to treat us all fairly, correct? That is all we ask, after all."
Soundwave seems occupied with Slugfest, or perhaps something else. A stray thought, and not necessarily his own. His head is tilted oddly as he listens to something. Or someone. As that Tarn-tune plays in the background.
Ravage snorts at the end of Blast Off's question. Were he a bot it would be a sound of disblief, but the cat-bot? Did words catch in his throat? "Not *all* we're after. But that is enough of it for what matters. For now."
Slugfest's tail is practically a whip, it's wagging so rapidly when Blast Off presents him with the bowl of wine. He yays and starts slurping the wine out of the bowl happily. "Is good!" he exclaims mid gulp.
"Yes." Rodimus not only sounds sure of that, but his belief in equality echoes in his thoughts. He might stumble ... a lot ... but he's /trying/. He tried, he tries, he will try: basically Rodimus in a nutshell. "You're judged on what you do here. Not the war we all went through." His execution on that does not quite live up to the promise of his words.
Ravage gets up, looking bored suddenly, and pads off towards another part of the bar without saying another word. His tail swishes as he goes. Swish swish.
That little snort from Ravage catches the Combaticon's attention and... well, yes. true. Blast Off gives a little nod to that, too, glancing at Slugfest before he then looks up at Rodimus for his answer. "Yes. Well, I believe you will find Decepticons on your ship to be more of a /positive/ than anything. We bring skills to the table that are uniquely our own. In fact, I do hope that you are aware of the energon cubes I brought back to the ship? Only one of my many talents..." Ok, Blurr helped... kind of. And they brought back more uridium than energon cubes, but... hey, details details. Details he isn't going to mention. Including the fact that there is probably an entire planet very angry with them now. Possibly also a smuggler Captain somewhere. BUT WHATEVER. He hopes the others are suitably impressed. HE is pretty amazing, after all.
Soundwave turns his attention back to this conversation. "The frequency at which we encounter hostility or oddity, it would behoove consideration of a scout. A shuttle perhaps. That could travel in advance of the Lost Light." Since they are making suggestions to the captain. And, look! Such a potential shuttle exists! One that is devotely Con, who might inform Soundwave of things that might not otherwise get reported. Someone that is influenced easily, should a course need to be corrected if indeed Blast Off can be counted on as a guide.
Rodimus looks guilty. There's probably a report on Blast Off's energon adventures somewhere in a pile he's not reading. "Ah -- did you? Great! Great work. We could definitely use it until we find a more permanent solution." Like, say, some kind of weirdo disappearing planet. That'd do it. Sliding a glance back at Soundwave, Rodimus says, "/Maybe/. Quantum engines are the problem. The hops are a little hard to predict /or/ match." And while it's true, it's also true that he's wary of any suggestions put forth.
The talk of shuttles gets Blast Off's attention immediately, of course. "Yes. Well... again, a *sentient* shuttle has advantages over a non-sentient one, after all." He is nearly about to start preening here. "It is why we shuttleformers were always looked upon so highly...." He's not biased at all, NOPE. Rodimus' answer belies the fact that he probably HASN'T known. This deflates the shuttle just a bit, and he stops to give the Captain a flat look. "...Yes, I did."
"Not all accomplishments make it to the desk of the captain," Soundwave informs. "Such as Megatron not personally congratulating every victory in the field." There are sub-captains and others that such things should fall to, within the normal chain of command. So, once more Soundwave politically wrangles a situation for Rodimus. Once more he hates himself for it. "Speaking of, Captain," Soundwave states as he touches finger to temple, "You are needed on the bridge." He relays that message seconds before the actual one comes across.
Rodimus wilts a little at Blast Off's flat look. He summons an extra dose of enthusiasm into his, "Good job! Keep that up and you'll be next up for a star!" A Rodimus Star. FYI. Just in case that wasn't clear. Glancing at Soundwave, Rodimus wavers on the edge of amused, appreciative, and apprehensive, but it's the first two that he gives voice: "Thanks," he says, a laugh in his voice. "Duty calls!" His voice is overloud as he stands, wrapped in his own importance, to flash his smile around the bar in general, and finally to Swerve as he slides his empty glass across the bar. "Keep 'em drunk and happy, Swerve." With that, he makes his way out.
Blast Off's gaze drifts to Soundwave, who is making sense even if the Combaticon's ego doesn't really want to hear it. He rolls his shoulders, glancing away. "Well. Yes. Just ...informing him, is all." Haughty little sniff. A little sniff that is interrupted by Rodimus' mention of... a star? OOo, really? Oh wait. Rodimus star. He tries to look excited. "I... look forward to it." Because there's no way he'd ever /really/ want one. ....even if it IS star shaped, and he loves the stars. And anything that strokes his ego. And did we mention the stars? *cough* He watches Rodimus leave with a small nod, then goes back to sipping his wine.
"I will be needed as well," Soundwave intones. There is likely no one that really wants him to stay anyway. A bar is where you go to not thing and with him here, well, everyone is no doubt working to keep their thoughts to themselves more than usual. "Keep up the good work, brother," he says, softer, just for Blast Off to hear. Like it is a secret. He then turns to Slugfest. "ravage will ensure you make it to the proper habsuite." Since the stego is set to indulge himself tonight. Without any goodbyes or even a salute at one, Soundwave follows the captain out.
"Oke!" Slugfest calls out after Soundwave, returning his attention immediately to his now half-full bowl of wine.