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2016-06-26 Drinks With Friends

From Transformers: Lost and Found

Drinks With Friends
Date 2016/06/25
Location Lost Light: Recreation -- Swerve's
Participants Torque, Beachcomber
Summary Drinks after work doesn't necessarily make it a date.

The Body Shop is the place to go when you're not feeling as shiny as you used to, want to be another color, or even want a fancy aesthetic mod installed. Located off of the Oil Baths, the warm, scented air from the Oil Baths seeps through the clear sliding doors between the rooms. The Body Shop has more of a garage feel with state of the art tools hanging on the walls. Auto lifts dominate the center of the room.

Off to the side is a secondary room designed for painting, heavily vented and outfitted with a large window so customers in the main area can watch when not thumbing through design catalogs and color palettes.


He'd seen the Shop in passing a few times, lazily listening to the sounds of traffic to and from and the machinery inside, the soft chatter between painter and client while he'd been soaking in the bath. He'd never been inside it, however - it wasn't really his sort of scene. Beachcomber didn't really make a point of keeping his paint pristine like Mirage did, considering the nature of his work as a geologist - all sorts of scratches and scrapes dotted his person, waiting to heal on their own. So when he did finally poke his head in, he took time to appreciate the atmosphere and ambiance of the little shop. It was a very positively-charged place, where people came to be happy, and that grooved pretty well with him.

Beachcomber didn't make it further than the door frame, though, leaning against it and calmly waiting for the pretty purple truck inside to finish up her daily tasks. Not wanting to interrupt if she was with a client, he gave her a quiet wave when he caught her optic. Torque 's day hasn't been all that eventful, honestly. True, she had some clients to touch up some paint on or replace smaller mods. The one she's currently been working with for a little while now has come in for a cracked headlight thanks to a rough rivet. The femme gives a soft titter while installing the new one, giving it a nice polish with a clean rag to remove any scuffs. "You mechs gotta watch what you're doin over there. I'm hoping I won't see you in the medibay next. ..There we go, all shiny and new." She steps back and allows the mech to stand, brightening when she's thanked before he steps off to go deal with paying the bill.

Wiping her hands clean out of habit, she turns to pick up her tools, though a spy of movement by the oil bathes door catches her attention and has her looking up. "Oh, hey Beachcomber!" Antennas flick up and a half-smile lights her face. That's right, the bar. "Sorry for makin' you wait. Lemme just clean up and we can get outta here." Which she promptly gets to, making sure her tools are in the right spots before she moves over his way.

"No rush," Beachcomber hums at her, watching her shuffle about and tidy up her space. "We'll groove when you're ready to groove, let the universal flow decide when we go." He shuffles out of the way for her client to pass, offering him a 'Hey buddy~' as he slipped by. With the work table emptied of clients, though, the minibot strides forward and hauls himself up to sit, legs tucking up in a half lotus to watch her. Torque is awfully cute. And the level of the table maybe allows him to catch a peek of her aft without furniture blocking his view from closer to the floor. Ahem.

It's a good thing he doesn't mention that bit out loud, dear lord. Anyway, Torque simply nods and allows him to sit up on the now wiped down table, going around the shop to make sure it's cleaned up of scraps, paint flecks, extra tools, and the like. Torque herself doesn't mind getting dirty, but she'll be damned if she doesn't keep a clean workspace. ..Outside of her hab, that is. The chore doesn't take her too long, the medic slipping up beside the mini and smiling wide. "Alright, let's groove~." There's some play to her tone as she chuckles softly. And if Beachcomber thinks he's walking there, he's got another thing coming when the femme suddenly picks him up and settles him on her shoulders. He's just so light, she really can't help it! So now, with a mighty steed beneath Beachcomber, Torque happily makes her way out of the shop and towards Swerve's. Drink time!

Beachcomber chuckles when she sidles up next to him, offering her a bright grin and unfolding his legs to stretch in preparation for his hop down. "Groovin'~" he hums, scooting towards the bench's edge, "On a Sunday afternoo-woo!" He'll admit the scooping up startled him a little, earning a bright laugh as he was settled up high on her shoulders. He'd best watch his head in the doorways - not every door accommodated Magnus so readily, after all! Nestled between her neck and her tow hook, he was pretty solidly supported in the space allotted, so he folded his arms atop her head and made himself comfortable with his legs dangling down against her chest. "Sweeping me off my feet already, Torque~" he teases, a finger swiping playfully up the length of one of her ear fins.

Eep, not the antenna! It flutters in protest at the touch and folds back, Torque's step actually faltering a little when he does. It's a good thing he can't see her face directly right now, because there's sliver of color washing across it as she puffs in protest and offers a hidden smirk. "Heh, guess it's a good thing you're so light. Means I can do it more often." She teases on their way to the bar, making sure to duck a little for Beach's sake when they enter.

At the counter is where she settles, ponying up to it and gently setting the minibot upon a higher stool made for his height. Torque, of course, takes a regular sized one and settles down to straddle in, an elbow hanging lazily on the counter. "The usual for me, please, and whatever he wants. Put it on my tab." One can only wonder how big said tab is... Anyway, back to her company, she smiles warmly down at the small mech. "So. Ah.. How've you been?"

That fluttering antennae was awfully tempting to play with as it flicked away, but he let it escape and didn't pursue after it. He doesn't want to fluster her too much. Yet.

Settling onto his stool he gives it a little spin to take stock of the room and leans forward with his forearms resting on the bar. "No preference at the moment. I'll take whatever you're experimenting with tonight~" Beachcomber hummed, his attention turning to Torque, visor narrowed playfully. "Tonight seems like a good night to ~experiment~ y'know~?"

Torque just.. gives a stunned few blinks at that. Uh.... Uhh... She's not exactly sure how to take that, though she can just imagine, and gives a nervous upward tug of the corner of her lips as the breathy start of a laugh leaves her and her gaze drifts sidelong to the counter. Where is that drink.. "Eheh, I ah, suppose so.. I don't usually get daring until I've had a few drinks. ...Okay, that's a lie, but it helps." And just as she begins to wonder, the heavy mug of dark colored energon is set before her, Torque quick to take it up and more or less use it as a shield when taking a sip. Clearing her vocals, she offers him a glance and gives a more friendly smile. "Speaking of daring, that game night was pretty fun. I wonder if Lieu will host another one. Or come up with a different game."

Whoo okay pull it back. Duly noted. Beachcomber doesn't want to scare her off by being too forward or flirty. Like his run in with Lieutenant, the people that were accustomed to him took his flirting with a grain of sodium chloride, but he sees he needs to keep himself in check for those new to him. The drink came and he takes the time to admire its colors and glow, swirling it around in its glass for a little while before taking a taste. Sour, but with a note of sweetness, like an unripe plum.

And speaking of Lieutenant, there she went bringing him up like she was reading his thoughts. He smiles more softly to her, head bobbing in thought as he recalled the game. "It was a bit out of character, yeah? It's nice to see him branching out towards others." Beachcomber hums, fingers drumming against the bar. "We could always leave suggestions for other games. Or ask if he plans to play again - good feedback invigorates creativity, after all."

Torque will get used to it in time. It just isn't often someone not three sheets to the wind comes on so strong. At least she's still sitting here enjoying his company, so that's a plus. The femme brightens and nods, easy up quick enough. "That'd be fun. I know some good card games from back in the day, though for one of them we might have to rent out Swerve's for, heheh." There's a mischevious little glint in her optics for only a second, then it's gone. "Other than that, I know some folks like to do those drinking games with movies or something." She shrugs and steals another mouthful.

A beat passes, her thoughts recollecting on another matter, and she speaks with a quieter, kinder tone. "...I wanna thank you again for that stone. Others may not think it's much, but.. Well, I just really appreciate that sorta stuff."

Well, to be fair, Beach probably isn't 100% sober as it was anyway. He also tries not to hide his intentions, but not to come on too strong - the last thing he wanted was for signals to get mixed and some innocent little thing get blindsided by something more risque. "I don't know too many card games," he admits pensively, fingers tapping against his chin. His engine hums quietly while he thinks, a steady, soothing drone that shifts up or down depending on the noise levels and aggression levels of the other bar patrons. "I've played a few drinking games though. Drain the glass if they say the movie title - that one always gets me with those old Earth movies."

Her gratitude earned a curious tilt of his helm - others, indeed, did not think much of his crystals. Mirage in particular had just ribbed him over such a thing not too long before while visiting Mu. It was to be expected, but he holds no ill will towards those that don't think of them as particularly useful things. Even if conveniently 'misplaced' they would go on to where they were meant to be - such is the way of the universe. Beachcomber smiles softly at her thanks, fingers lacing together under his chin. "You're welcome. I'm a geologist by trade, so I tend to have a lot of specimens of different minerals and crystals. If you're interested, I certainly wouldn't mind you coming by to see my collection - I even have a few geodes I've yet to cut open. Scans show a nice growth inside, but it's hard to tell what they're made of just by looking at the outsides. They're a lot like people that way."

"I'd.. like that." Torque's mood begins to shift upwards, a look of sincere appreciation given at the offer. But then.. then he mentions geodes and a thought she didn't exactly want popping up begins to creep into her mind. This isn't the time. ..Or is it? Her optics hang on the minibot, pensive and halfmast as she questions her next move. Maybe he can answer something she's been wondering for a long time. "..What can you tell me about this?"

A chest compartment opens and she reaches in, handing him a rough gemstone the size of her palm. The soft lilac color of it identifies it as an amethyst, though Torque already knows this. She simply wants his take on it, professionally and perhaps spiritually if he happens to say. Her optics remain on him, curious and silent.

There was a shift to her optics and a change in the tone of her engine, a stiffness to her that came on suddenly and Beachcomber isn't sure what he said to have brought it on. It was a little distressing not to know for sure what had caused the change in her mood, but he won't push. He trusts she'll tell him when she's ready to.

The gemstone is met with a soft noise of appreciation for the specimen, taking it in both hands to cradle delicately. It was far from fragile, but he held it with care as if it were going to break apart in his hands. "Mmm amethyst. Nice and clear. Minimal impurities. Nice weight on it too. No wonder you hold your engex so well," he chortles. "In the human languages on Earth, there's a funny little story about the name, and that it means 'not intoxicated' and is believed to keep you from getting drunk if you drink from a cup studded with amethyst. Hmmm now Amethyst is a quartz, nice and strong and sturdy, like you. Good for meditation, easy to resonate with. It's got a few different purposes it's good for: it's a comfort stone, good for grieving losses and for keeping away nightmares to help you rest; also enhances creativity and passion; said to enhance cognitive thinking as well. I think this stone says to you, personally, that you're smart and strong and passionate, but perhaps in need of comforting." He offered it back to her, both hands outstretched. "Was it a gift from a person or a gift from the universe?"

Torque just remains quiet, listening. Her first reaction as he goes on is a bit of mirth at the drinking, but from there it steadily begins to dwindle, falling into more of a sad little smile that ghosts her face. There's a multitude of emotions in that one look from her. Sadness, happiness, regret, ache, thankfulness, affection... She can't seem to emote any one of them by themselves, so she resigns to a wilted smile when taking the stone back and thumbing it lightly in her hand.

"A bit of both, I like to think.. But it was from someone, yes. He's.. not here anymore. Heh.." She glances to the stone and back to him, chewing bottom lip briefly to stem a crest of emotion that crackles her voice slightly. "He said this represented me. I always argued it represented him, 'cause it matched his optics. I guess he was right all along... Thank you." She was hesitant to offer Mirage his hug, but with Beachcomber there isn't a trace of hesitation when leaning down to embrace him.

Oh. Oh no. What did he say? Why was her voice breaking? Beachcomber didn't mind when people showed emotion around him, he didn't mind being a shoulder to cry on, but he did prefer to know what it was he was saying to cause such reactions. Perhaps she would say when she was ready to - perhaps she just needed a good cry. Plenty of mechs did now and again. He starts to assume that's the case when she leans down to hug him, his arms going around her in return as best they can and his hands stroking soothingly over her back. "Don't even worry about it," he murmurs in response to her thanks, nuzzling softly against the side of her helm. "I'm always glad to see such well-loved specimens."

He wonders if giving her more amethyst would be unwelcome; she seemed like she could use the comforting it offered. But if this was the reaction he got from analyzing her stone, maybe he shouldn't risk making things harder for her.

This ship has been making her think more about the past than she has in a good while. Wonder why that is.. Either way, Torque gives a pleased, thankful little hum against Beachcomber along with an extra squeeze before she releases him. That sadness appears to slowly be washing from her, a hand rubbing a hot cheek as she stows the gem. "Sorry, it's just.. I dunno. It's something I try not to think about because I get like this every time. I'll.. I'll tell you sometime soon. Promise. I just need more engex in me right now." A weak little chuckle escapes her before lifting mug up and taking a few healthy swigs that drain it nearly to the halfway mark.

Setting it down on the counter with a soft clack, Torque releases a deep exvent, as if to shake off the last of her sullen mood, and turns a small smirk to him. "Usually I don't get all mopey until I'm good and drunk, heh." Not really, but she jests. "How did you get so interested in geology, anyway? Was it something you just fell into?"

Beachcomber's hand rests on her arm when she pulls back, his face soft, sympathetic. Everyone on the Lost Light had their losses and sorrows, and he wasn't going to go poking at open wounds. "When you're ready, I'll be there to listen," he promises and pats her softly on the arm.

The change in topic had him turning to his own drink, taking another swig and setting it against the bar. Engex wasn't his usual vice, but he certainly didn't mind indulging now and again. The question earns a bit of a wry chuckle. "I was born into it, actually. Not to sound like I think highly of the functionalists, because I don't, but I think this is the role the Universe decided I was best suited for. I was fortunate to find myself in a body that echoed my desires to learn and explore, and gave me the skills and freedom to do so. Not everyone finds themselves so well matched."

"That's pretty lucky, if you ask me. I was a construction bot before I decided to change and become a medic." Torque offers a bit of her own background in return. "It's nice to talk to someone so in tune with nature and stuff, though.. Next time we're on a nice enough planet that doesn't have a killer sun, maybe we can go.. trekking?" An activity she hasn't done in a long time, but feels Beachcomber would be an apt partner to do it with.

"I'll be honest, you remind me of an old friend, though he wasn't as laid back, heh. But yeah, I'd like to hang out more.. if that's okay." She sends him a hopeful glance, anxiousness tracing the edges. "You're a fun mech.." The medic gives a little pause after that before trying to hide her face a bit behind her drink, shielding herself from him seeing the obvious blush. "..Though I can't believe you asked that thing about the bearings during the games.."

"Well," Beachcomber hummed softly, "when part of your job is finding and analyzing the life-blood of the planet to be mined, it helps to be in tune with what's around you." He sips his drink and drains the small glass before setting it aside. The request is met with a smile, broad and relaxed, and his hands fold under his chin to listen to her explanation. "A trek would be fun," he agrees, visor dimmed contentedly. "I'd love to hang out more with you, too." In time, he hopes, that anxious edge will be gone from her voice and she can be as at ease around him as Bulkhead and Wheeljack are.

The mention of the game earns a sudden guffaw of startled laughter, and his hand plops over his mouth to muffle it until it passes into chuckling. "Neither can Mirage! He's so mad me!"

Torque would be relieved by his agreeal to hang if she weren't still somewhat flustered over the memory of the other night. "Tch, I don't blame him." She laughs, looking to him fully now, her face aglow and antennas give an amused wiggle. This is more like her usual self, good. Casually swirling what's left of her drink, the femme gives him a brief eyeing and smirks sharply, optics bright. "..You're an odd mech. But I like yah. If you're willing to admit something like that, I can only imagine what else you're hiding, heh." In a good way, of course.

Beachcomber snickers, waving down one of the staff for a refill. He turns an amused look towards Torque, an optic ridge cocking slowly upward at her sharp smirk. "What else I'm hiding~?" he teases, chuckling. "You make it sound so scandalous~ I try not to hide things from my friends, so if you have a question about me, regardless of the content, feel free to ask~"

Keeping his flirtatious teasing to himself for now. Oh the things he could have said to that.

"Scandalous, says the mech who asked a whole room about licking ball bearings." Torque muses teasingly, leaning in with chin in hand and elbow resting on the counter. She's starting to feel more comfortable with him. Mostly because of the kind words he gave about the amethyst, but the engex loosening up her systems also plays a role.

What to ask, what to ask... Well, best to keep it simple, she supposes. Also she's sorely curious. "Hmm.. Why'd you ask me out for a drink? Just for a friendly chat?"

"Well I coulda asked you back to my room to hang out but that mighta scared you off," Beachcomber chortles softly, leaning on the bar. "You seem interesting and friendly - I wanted to get the chance to get to know each other on neutral ground so you didn't feel forced into anything, y'know?"

He holds his hands up as if to ward off the idea. "Last thing I wanna do is make you feel stuck or scared."

That answer is... a lot nicer than Torque imagined it would be. Antennas flicker curiously in response before drooping back as an appreciative look graces her features. "Aww, Beach. That's actually.. really sweet." Certainly in her eyes.

"I appreciate the thought. And.. Heh, I think I would like to hang in your room sometime, yeah." She brightens and gives a firm nod, sticking to this decision. "I'd offer to to come over to mine, too, but Brainstorm likes to bring his work home with him and it can get.. dangerous sometimes."

Beachcomber hums softly, pleased with her reception, and lifts his refill in salute to her before taking a sip. "Understandable. I wouldn't want to mix his chemicals with my chemicals, y'know?" He chuckles softly to himself.

"We've got a spare recharge berth that we've converted to a couch of sorts - we could make it a party. Rock party. Nerd out over some crystals. Plus you're welcome to stay if you want somewhere explosion-free to nap."

An explosion-free nap? Hot damn, Beachcomber, you just said the magic words! Her head hanging dramatically at that, Torque says with a thankful smile, "You have no idea how good that sounds right now." Hmm.. should she? Might as well ask since there isn't much to do here but talk and drink. Might as well marvel over his collection and hang out while she's at it.

And so, flashing him a smirk from the rim of her glass, she gives a little motion to the door. "Maybe we should take this party back to your place, huh?" That comes out all sorts of wrong, but she doesn't quite care right now.

The suggestion and the teasing tone earns a lighthearted chuckle. After a long shift and a few drinks, he could understand wanting a peaceful place to hide and rest. Beachcomber hopes Mirage wouldn't mind the company, but they'll both be quiet once they were sleeping. "That sounds good to me," he grins and drains his drink to set aside the glass. A few stretches of his arms and back follow before he gestures Torque towards the door. "After you, my dear Medic."

Torque makes more of a show of draining her own, chugging the rest of the glass down like a seasoned pro. That done, since she hates leaving drinks unfinished, the femme rocks to her feet from the stool and grins cheekily to him. "Why thank you, dear Geologist." She snickers at that and reaches out to scoop him up from his seat, if he'll allow, and hold his back snugly to her chest and she carts him on out, smiling bright as the sun all the way.

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