2017-01-21 Spin to Win
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Spin to Win|
|Location||Lost Light: Recreation -- Swerve's|
|Participants||Blast Off, Blaster, Brigade, Cosmos, Gearshift, Lieutenant, Pipes, Skystalker, Swerve, Vortex, Whetstone|
|Summary||Childish games where almost no one loses.|
Vortex has had a few drinks, and it shows... Well, it would show if he had any dignity when he was sober too. Leaning back, he balances several cans on his forehelm, singing terribly to himself whilst lazily spinning a bottle on the table with a claw. The lil leaflet did say the game was about now... Maybe folks were on their way or needed some encouragement. "HEY! Come sit your afts here if ya wanna have fun!" he calls out to the general bar, careful not to let the cans he balances fall. It's cool, everyone will think he's cool if he keeps this up.
Swerve glances up, "Tex, what exactly defines fun right now?" He's asking because it's Tex, and Swerve would like his bar to stay in one piece. He's not exactly fond of the combaticon, or anyone that causes a mess in his bar.
Pipes has been here for a while, and he is quite content to remain an observer, nursing an Old Forged over at the bar but with full view of the game to come. Also, there's not an aquatic mode among anybot, so, you know.
Gearshift has just entered when she hears Vortex shouting. She remembers the last time she did anything with Tex (it was a hard landing for sure) but she decides to join the group anyways, because why not? It's against her better judgement.
Cosmos has been drinking on his own at a table when Vortex suddenly calls out to the bar. Have fun? What is he going on about? He doesn't know whats happening but is curious enough to turn around in his chair to- oh.. wow, Cosmos has to admit thats a pretty impressive balancing act with the cans. Especially if he's a few drinks past sober.
Brigade has been having a little something, too, tonight. Upon hearing the 'dare,' the young mecha glances up from the tankard he is nursing and glances at the mecha across the room. "... Are you sure that's a good idea?" he calls out to them, and then shrugs. He's just drunk enough to do it. "Your funeral!"
The tank stumbles to his pedes, gripping his cane in one hand and his tankard in the other, and shuffles towards Vortex. Maybe a little too close to Vortex. The con should have been a little more clear about where to set their afts when screaming at a drunk room, because Brigade is about one second from sitting on him.
Lieutenant had read the bulletin for some drinking game. He's not enticed by it at first, it's once he figures he could probably give out a few boxes of 'Functionist Sweets' there. He's been feeling rather sick to his tanks with the thought of even eating any himself. So enter the avian with two assorted boxes of sweets, approaching Vortex. "I am not aware of what you consider 'fun' but I have an addition for it if you wish."
Blast Off sits by Vortex, glass of wine in hand. IN HAND. He's celebrating not being an empurata again -and being a Combaticon again- but drinking. By enjoying having a mouth and taste sensors. This is the life. He also does his best to ignore his teammate and his juggling acts, but he does glanceover eventually and ask, "....What fun?" He sounds allergic to the idea. Swerve has disconnected.
Skystalker is partway into his usual at a table when he first notices Vortex start his balancing act; as he keeps going, Sky can't help but listen when he calls out to people. He fixes Vortex, his antics, and anyone heading over with a bit of a squint. He can't stop from asking-- "...What are you doing?"
Vortex shoots Blast Off a grin. "'Member those Nebulons, Blasty? One's who hired us- you remember their game! It was fun, heh..." Ya know, until they had to kill them. Trying to avoid paying mercs does not end well.
Vortex laughs and waves his arm. Come on! Everyone come and take a seat! "It's a game- alien game! If you can spin this-" he flicks his bottle- "You can play. Its crazy fun, hah. So come on!" He giggles as Brigade comes over, optics behind his visor roving over the tank. Mmm, tanks. He makes no motion to save himself from being sit on.
Swerve's visor flashes. He knows Spin the Bottle from Earth. That's a fairly safe game as far as Vortex goes. "Alright I'll allow it but BEHAVE." He emphasizes "Or you'll all be back to clean up whatever mess is made. Please and thank you" He declares.
Gearshift has a better idea, and sits at the bar a safe distance away. Spin the Bottle is not a game she's interested in playing. At least not without Kickback there.
<FS3> Lieutenant rolls Reaction+Reaction: Good Success. (7 7 5 7 4 4)
Well if Vortex isn't going save himself, despite the gathering of other -including the other Combaticon- Lieutenant sets down the boxes, only to swifts yank Vortex away. He's been under Brigade before, it's not something to take pleasure in.
<FS3> Pipes rolls Earth Culture: Good Success. (5 1 6 5 2 5 7 7 6)
<FS3> Cosmos rolls Earth Savvy: Good Success. (7 5 8 1 3 8 4)
Since no one tries to stop the drunk tank, Brigade is going to follow through with the dare to sit on Vortex. Or at least what his drunk mind heard as a dare to sit on Vortex. With a grunt, the massive mecha drops down like a brick. Engex splashes over the rim of his tankard as he settles in. "You still alive under there?" he asks. Thankfully, though, Lieutenant has saved the mecha.
But the arrival of Lieutenant distracts Brigade from his new seat. The tank leans forwards, red optics shining with curiousity. The stolen chair he sits on creaks under his weight. "Hey there, twinkletoes. I didn't know you had any fun in you. What a surprise," he remarks. And then he pauses when he sees Vortex. "Hey, didn't I just sit on him?"
<FS3> Cosmos rolls Noticed: Failure. (1 2)
Ah, spin-the-bottle, Pipes recalls the humans calling it. Definitely not his speed. "I'm more of a sipper than a kisser!" he calls out, and then true to his statement sips. Heh. Clever. He surveys the likely players and wiggles his dangling feet back and forth with some delight.
Cosmos walks over, he is curious about what is going on- Oh Primus its spin the bottle. Or at least it would be spin the bottle if Vortex didn't say it was Nebulonian... it can't possibly be the same game can it? Wait what is that tank- "Be careful I don't think-" Luckily Lieutenant saves Vortex. Primus that could have been a mess... "So.. how does this game.. work..." </i>Annnd no one is listening to me.</i>
The mention of an alien game has Skystalker apprehensive, though he seems entertained by the way Lieutenant tries to save Tex from certain death, lifting a hand to rub at his nose. He's here drinking already, isn't he? The starfighter puts away the datapad he had on his table in favor of gathering up his drink and wandering closer. "I've never met a Nebulon." Amber eyes flick down to Cosmos as the smaller bot comes near, then back to Tex.
"I'd rather not remember anything to do with those organics," mutters Blast Off, glancing away. Lieutenant gets a slight nod as he's noticed; Skystalker causes Blast Off to stiffen slightly before he continues looking about the room. Then suddenly this big mech is about to sit on Vortex, though Lieutenant manages to intervene. Blast Off huffs as there's suddenly this huge mech sitting next to him and he glares up at him. "EXCUSE YOU." He doesn't like his space so sharply intruded upon. The shuttleformer takes another swig from his wine glass through the hatch on his faceplate. "Watch where you're sitting, or who you're almost sitting on." He scrunches his limbs closer together, muttering into his glass, though he refuses to budge despite feeling a little claustrophobic all of a sudden.
Lieutenant gives Brigade a hard glare, as he holds Tex a little tighter- before realizing he's still holding to 'con in his arms. Down you go. "I have a name." he replies to the larger mech between gritted denta. Never mind him though, as he turns his attention to a fellow green at the scene. A brief twitch of his audio fins is his greeting. "Nice to see you off the clock for a change, Cosmos."
What's this? A drinking game? Well... sign Blaster up for that!
It has been a rather long while since he had been... well... anywhere that is not work. He has been seen, working on decoding messages, giving assignments, and well... work.
Today though? Today is Fun Blaster day, and Fun Blaster walks into the very familiar bar and sees quite the crowd. Giving a low whistle, he asks the room, "Hey, has the game started yet? Got room for me?"
Everyone is suddenly grouchy at Brigade. What? He is only doing what Vortex asked. The drunk tank snorts a little. "Don't get all high and mighty. He asked me to, didn't he?" he asks, gesturing towards Vortex with his cane. "You wouldn't mind if I sat on you, would you? Everyone can calm the frag down. It's just a little fun."
He takes a deep swig of his tankard before continuing. "What's that we were doing again?"
Being sat on by a tank, what a fine way to go. Definitly in Vortex's top three ways to go. Unfortunately, its not to be. "My cans!" And there goes his balancing act, nooo... Shooting Lieu a pout, his gives his legs a little kick before scurrying up and onto Blast Off's lap, splaying his hand on the shuttles face. "Shhhhhhhhush-shush your face. You'l scare everyone away." Then he turns to beam at the lil group he has assembled. Yes, good. Perfect. He swipes his bottle and lifts into the air.
"Quiet! Everyone here at this table is now playing- you're locked in. No take backsies or else." Vortex's gaze narrows. He has a nefarious mind and a glue gun, don't tempt him. "This is easy! Okay, okay. Sitsitsit. Everyone playing sit!" He scrambles out of Blast Off's lap and to an empty seat. Better.
"So's, what you gotta do is simple. Spiiiiin the bottle. It'll land on someone and then everyone has to tell that person to slap or kiss the spinner. And once that's done, they then do whatever won to the spinner and the spinner ain't got no idea. Hehe... IF you don't do those, you gotta take a shot- and I brought nightmare fuel... So, who wants to go first?" Vortex grins, waving the bottle around at everyone. Ehhhh?
"Always vote kiss!" Pipes bellows from the bar, where he's safe and not subject to Vortex's wrath or his bottle of Nightmare Fuel. He leans over to Swerve, or whoever is behind the bar at the moment. "You ready for the fallout from this game?" He chuckles slightly; oh, what those stuckups over at Visages miss.
Blast Off huffs right back at brigade, "Yes I *would* mind." And indeed he would. Of course, with the crowd starting to gather, just about everyone is intruding on the standoffish shuttle's massive ring of personal space, but... such is the life of being Blast Off. He eyes Lieutenant as he mechhandles Vortex, but at least he eventually puts Tex down. And- wait, what? The shuttle flusters and sputters softly as Vortex crawls into HIS lap. "Vort- uh...I!"
Vortex's shush works for awhile, the sniper just staring in huffy indignation. Before he can collect himself together, the rotary's gone, and the shuttle's newly reattached black hands ball into fists in front of himself on the table, then one waves dismissively. "I beg your pardon, Vortex, I am NOT playing such a silly, childish game!" Though somehow the mention of nightmare fuel does seem to halt his protests.
Blaster frowns at the rules of Vortex's game. It doesn't surprise him that this is the kind of idea that Tex would have. Fun Blaster seems to halt for a moment, thinking over whether slapping someone- sober or drunk- is the idea of fun. But Pipes's good nurturedness warms his spark. "Exactly, Pipes. Why slap someone when kisses are more interesting?" He says as he takes a seat at the table, ready to play. "Let's get it started!"
Or else? Skystalker lowers his drink with a new stare, listening in as he is apparently now roped right into this. He has the feeling he's suddenly going to be drinking quite a bit tonight, unless he can outrun a drunken Vortex and his glue gun. Which might work if he could get to a hull door first. Hmm.
Sky glances up at Pipes chiming in, sighing through his vents and eyeballing an empty seat, and then the rest of them with a somewhat gauging look. And then he checks the door, furtive.
Brigade is in the middle of taking a deep swig from his tankard when Vortex explains. Soon, the tank is choking on his drink. "W-what?!" he asks. It's nearly enough to shock him sober. He may slap people for a living, but the kissing thing is very much not on his agenda. He's only 100,000 years old! He's not even had the opportunity so far, and he's not about to let that on.
"I hate to say it, but I'm with Princess here." He glances towards Blast Off.
Cosmos wants to get up and leave, this was a bad idea. Why did I think this game was different? I'm going to get slapped! He wants to get up now but he also knows the one time he moves to leave is the one time he's going to get noticed. So, he's stuck slouching in his chair.
He should probably get back to his shift at the library. You know, that shift that didn't exist until he needed an excuse to leave? Except he finds himself sitting down beside Cosmos. Well in that case, he's going to pull a cube out from his own subspace to drink that. He's not participating and getting drunk. Especially not around Vortex.
Vortex looks around at the different reactions. Clearly, none of these mechs know how great a slap feels. Looks like he'll have to show them all. "TOO LATE, ITS STARTED, YOU'RE ALL IN. I'll go first." And with that, he puts the bottle down on the table and gives it a spin. LandonSkystalkerlandonSkystalkerlandonskystalker...
Brigade's comment earns another deep glare from Blast Off, who huffs again and takes another big swig from his wine glass. "I refuse to participate in such a charade." His nose (obscured as it is), goes up in the air. However, as the bottle lands on Skystalker, what's visible of his expression seems to cool down even more. Given his mood towards Skystalker lately, his thoughts lead towards *slap*. Then again, watching Vortex kiss someone else is always a tiny bit... weird somehow. He leans in and mutters very quietly to Vortex, "...Slap."
Skystalker finds himself watching intently when Vortex gives the glass its first spin. Then the muzzle of the bottle points to him, and he stares widely at it for a moment, wingtips flicking back and the drink in his hand angling a bit. When he looks back to Tex, it's with a pause. Tex likes slapping, right? Surely.
Blaster looks over at Sky. Oh. Well... congrats Skystalker. You are the first lucky person to play the game. With Vortex. "Kiss him!" Says the rather non violent Comms Officer... in a whisper of course. Besides, it is more fascinating to see reactions to kisses, and spin the bottle was meant to be a kissing game, last he checked.
Vortex giggles. Oh, what luck! What were the odds it would land on Skystalker? Decent seeing how he only has seven options but on the first spin- excellent. He slids outta his seat, tromping over to the spacer. He hears the whispers, he knows what the people want...
Ignore the claws and fangs, this'll be harmless, Skystalker. "Bend down just a little- there! Now, hold still." Vortex shoots a look to those around the room- who doesn't want to kiss Sky?- and sticks out his forked tongue. Hehe... Then he leans forward and plants a kiss on the spacer's lips. Mmmmmmmmmmwah! "Okay, someone else give it a spin!"
The bartender Pipes ends up chatting to is not Swerve, but one of the other usual employees. He shakes his head, but with a wry smile. "That's why I switched to the shatterproof cups a couple of hours ago. I mean, look, he already made a blasted tower with 'em." For his part, Pipes eagerly awaits the outcome, and when Skystalker finally gets a kiss, he claps and wolf whistles, badly. Hm, must be parched, need more fluids. Sip.
"Whoot!" Blaster cheers, giving a clap for those two. "Okay, my turn!" He announces as he reaches over and spins the bottle. He is a teeeeeeny bit worried about slapping someone, but he's totally okay if the kisses win out. If not... well... a little bit of Nightmare Fuel isn't so bad.
Brigade's faceplates scrunch up. "Gross," he grunts, looking something like a petulant child as he says it. How did he get into this situation? "All of this is gross. I ain't playing. You all should just slap each other. That'll be a hell of a lot funnier." Primus help him, he is not drunk enough for this.
Cosmos' visor widens when the bottle lands on Skystalker. Oh no.. Sky stalker has to be kissed or slapped by- Kiss! Primus he is choosing kiss, he doesn't want Skystalker to get slapped! When Vortex actually goes up and kisses him, though... I hope that wasn't too awkward for him... A look of sympathy is sent Brigade's way.
<FS3> Cosmos rolls Noticed: Success. (8 1)
This is why Lieutenant tries to avoid social gatherings. Ugh. But, when it comes to Vortex, it's best to just roll with what he wants. things get less violent if so.
As Blaster spins the bottle, Lieutenant looks at who it lands on. "<< Slap him. >>" is his cold vote over comms as he takes another drink.
It's enough to hear the answers, but it's definitely the giggling from Vortex that brings Skystalker's attention away from the others and back to the rotary that comes sauntering on up to him. His features do shift towards something more neutral, and gamely he tilts his wings back and leans down, ignoring the tongue flicking at others just before he gets the kiss. As most spacers are, he's quite warm. The hand that lifts up to flick Vortex in the nose, however, is just a little colder than that. Needs warming up, apparently.
Blast Off frowns as *kiss* wins out over *slap*, but ah well. The shuttleformer simply responds with his best aloof, bored expression as he downs some more of his wine and tries to ignore that kiss. He finds himself agreeing with Brigade, "Yes, I think slapping would be much more conductive to a collection of war veterans..." Then he takes another drink, because unlike Brigade he BETTER be drunk enough for this. And then Brigade is the one who gets ' chosen '. Well, this is easy. " << Slap.>> "
Cosmos isn't about to deny a mech what they want, especially when they don't seem to want to be kissed. <> Is Cosmos' answer.
Vortex's nose scrunches from the little flick. Hehe. Wait til he tells Raid about this! The copter returns to his seat, quick to vote. "<< Slap! Slap it up! >>" He didn't see who got who, he just wants to see some slapping. He nudges his brother with a smirk. "His lips are soft, Blasty," he asides with a grin. Soft and warm.
Blaster doesn't even KNOW this Brigade. All he knows right now is that the mech is grumpy and has no sense of fun.
Until he gets a unanimous vote of slap.
There is a very very quiet whine of apprehension coming out of Blaster, if anyone bothered to hear it. His optics eye the Nightmare Fuel...
Brigade suddenly feels all optics on him. What just happened? He looks at the spinner and suddenly vaults to his pedes. The huge tank swats unsteadily, the tankard nearly flying from his other hand. "Nu-uh! Like I said, I'm not doing that. Don't any of you come near me unless you're giving me a good, honest slap," he snaps. Frag kisses. Those are terrifying.
He eyes the whole group through narrowed optics. "Unless you're all too big of pansies to hit me."
OH GOD. Blast Off didn't need that comment from Vortex. The shuttle immediately reacts with a snarly huff, bringing his hands over his audials and rubbing the side of his helmet. "Ugh. I- Don't ...Ugh! I didn't need to know that, Vortex." HUFFFF. No 'Tex' for you today. Looking for something else- anythiong else- to focus on, he chooses Blaster over there. His almost-namesake. "Go on, then. Mech up." He also eyes that nightmare fuel. More for him, later. Maybe.
Skystalker sees the little scrunch of nose, and for that he's pleased enough. It wasn't a big kiss, anyway. It's not that big of a deal, right? He tries not to look directly at Blast Off when he finally sits down, silent in his sweep into the seat, crossing his legs at the knees and hiding a tiny smile behind the rest of his initial drink, finishing it off.
Vortex leans even closer to Blast Off, that look about him. That annoying little brother look. "So soooooft and waaaaarm and, um... Fuuuuull." Haha, take that snooty McShuttle! A quick prod to Blast Off's side and he slaps his hands down onto the table. "You hear the mech! Slap! Slap! Slap!" He chants.
Blaster's optics went from looking at the bottle of Nightmare Fuel back to Brigade now. Did he just call all of them pansies? He looks over to where Lieu and Cosmos were sitting, then back at Brigade. What kind of example was he going to set?
After a moment, he squares his shoulders, then goes over to Brigade and gives him the hardest slap he had in him. One that he planned to save for Soundwave. It would hit with an extremely loud clang, but Brigade looked far too tough to even stumble from that. He hopes. "Sorry..." Brigade DID ask for a good slap, and he still feels bad.
Pipes is dismayed. "Kiss! KISSSS!" His vote doesn't count, but perhaps only he thinks about how funny it would be for Brigade to get a smooch. Or it's the Old Forged thinking that, speaking of which. "Hey, another, if you would, kind sir? Shatterproof cup is fine, I'm not picky." He wobbles his nearly-empty drink in one hand, and the bartender starts mixing up a fresh cup. The slap from Blaster makes both vendor and customer hop just a bit, but only Pipes is looking up. "Aw, c'mon!!"
<FS3> Brigade rolls Cane Tricks: Success. (6 6 4 1 8 3)
Lieutenant meets Blasters eyes. Well, this is going to be a long night. Time to pull out a datapad and hack into the Bridge's communications console to do some work while Vortex teases Blast Off about Sky, and Blaster makes an oh-so satisfying slap to Brigade. That was worth being here for.
Cosmos jumps at the loud slap, shoulder hiking up a few notches in surprise. <i>Oh ow... that... that looked painful... He is cringing for that poor mech, but he DID ask for it.
Brigade squares his shoulders and doesn't even flinch when Blaster approaches him. The slap hits his frame with a loud clang, and the drill sergeant scowls behind his visor. "Is that the best you've got? We need to work on your form sometime," he mutters. Lifting his cane, he presses a button on the handle and lets a spray of sparkling confetti spray over his attacker.
"Congratufraginglations on not being a pansy, though."
Uuuugh nooooo. Blast Off seethes, hunching in even further, grimacing under his faceplate. GAWD stop the TORTURE VORTEX. Gawd annoying little brothers. "Vortex!" His hands dig even harder onto the sides of his helmet. "I'm not liiiiistening!~~" He starts chanting over his teammate... at least until Blaster finally follows through. The shuttle blinks and looks up. Huh, so he actually did it. The staring continues as the confetti rains down from Brigade's cane. Welp. That was... unexpected.
Vortex whoops, throwing a fist in the air. "Hells bells YEAH! Someone else spin- let's see some more slaps, this is awesome!" He gives Blaster a thumbs-up, the Autobot completely cool in his books. His rotors prick before waggling. Oooo- sparkly... He leans forward, opening his mouth to try and catch some confetti in his mouth.
Blaster scowls at Brigade, but then smirks. "I didn't expect any less of an answer from you." He does tense up when he sees the cane being lifted up, expecting to get shot. But no. No... he has confetti. Never a dull moment on this ship. He goes back to his seat, not very proud to see Tex being happy that he slapped someone. But with a determined look, he nods at the bottle towards Brigade. "Come on, now it is your turn to prove you are not a pansy. It would be sad that the hesitant comms officer had more ball barings than you, right?"
Lieutenant glances at the confetti display, only to grab his drink and sip it while glaring condescendingly at Brigade. Well not that Blaster's offering the bara the bottle, he wonders if the mech will throw away his shot.
Skystalker winces a little at the bodily hail mary slap that Blaster gives Brigade, amber optics widening with a blink at the shot of confetti that hits the air. Tanks, what can you do?
Cosmos blinks at the confetti that goes flying. He ... certainly hadn't been expecting that but it does drag a soft chuckle from the UFO. What? It was... it was kinda funny... He's just gonna slouch lower in his chair.
Brigade is moving to settle back into his seat. This whole situation is stupid, but at least he didn't have to kiss anyon- The tank pauses, though, when Blaster calls him out. He hisses a little when he hears the word 'pansy' aimed at him, and all the sudden he's rethinking his hesitation to join this game. Brigade sets his tankard on the chair and wobbles over to Blaster, snagging the bottle from him.
"Now that you mention it, I'm in the mood to slap someone," he responds.
That someone is, unfortunately, Lieutenant. His gaze narrows at the bottle momentarily before returning to his work. "Take the Nightmare fuel." his fingers tap against the screen, no longer giving the other any spare attention. "You will have more enjoyment out of that than slapping me." Or kiss, but a slap is easier to walk away from with dignity than a kiss. Especially from Brigade.
<FS3> Brigade rolls Drinking: Good Success. (8 3 5 3 8 8 6)
<FS3> Brigade rolls Reaction+reaction: Failure. (2 3 6 2)
<FS3> Brigade rolls Stumbling: Failure. (5 6 4 4)
Brigade reaches up and grabs his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. Just to tormet Lieutenant a little bit. But there really is only one answer to this. "Well, I just proved I ain't no pansy. But giving him a big old smooch when he doesn't want one from me would just make me aft. Hand over that bottle," he demands.
Brigade leans over to snag the bottle. He has every plan to just grab it and bail. The least he can get out of this is a free drink. All he manages to do, though, is upset his delicate balance. The tank gives a surprised rev and scrambles to steady himself. It's no easy task with the world spinning, but he manages.
Cosmos looks between Brigade and Lieutenant in worry, especially when Lieutenant seems so hostile. The admission he is going to drink the Nightmare fuel instead of a kiss or slap has the mech relaxing... then Brigade seems to falter in his balance just a bit. Immediately Cosmos leans forward to try and steady the mech.. which also leaves the bottle really close to the spacer.
Vortex caught a few glittery pieces of confetti on his tongue and he keeps it out just to show everyone how sparkly it is now. Hehe... Hey, wait. "Ugh, you guys are no fun! Pansy, pansy, pansy. Hippy tanky-wanky, let's put some yellow flowers in his treads." Vortex swallows the confetti- hopefully its non-toxic. "And its just a shot- that stuff'll burn through you. Trust me." Nightmare Fuel, excellent for torture.
With Brigade all wobbly, Vortex pours him the shot before sliding the bottle to Cosmos. "Spin it, frisbee." The 'or else' from earlier still hangs in the air.
Blaster smirks at Brigade, not knowing about the history between Lieu and him. Although when Lieu- considerate and deliberate Lieu- coldly tells Brigade to take the nightmare fuel, he glances curiously at him.
It seems that Brigade seems to take that advice... although the stumbling makes him get up to try to steady the mech. "I think you might have had too many drinks already. And speaking of... " He waves at the bartender. "Can I get a shot or ten over my way? Thanks."
And that is the second most amusing thing to happen. Lieutenant almost feels himself wanting to smile, but that seems inappropriate. Not to mention unprofessional, particularly with Blaster here. He leans over just slightly to Cosmos, "I suggest removing your mask for this."
Blast Off 's hands finally leave the sides of his helmet as Brigade sways, the shuttle bracing against the table and preparing to flee if needed. Fortunately looks like he doesn't have to. And now... hmm, looks like it's Cosmos' turn. Wait, when did Cosmos get here? Blast Off hadn't even noticed him and he was a fellow spacer! He watches the bottle as it spins and... and.....
Oh frag. Blast Off freezes as the bottle points to him. Wait, what? Oh no. Blast Off isn't drunk enough for this. He immediately takes another long swig from his wine glass, hatch opening then closing. At least he has his faceplate. Thank Prim- WAIT, WHAT? He gives Lieutenant an intense stare of wtf. "But..." His hand reaches to protectively hover around his facemask as what's visible of his face seems to blush.
Watching the others is just as much of a show as anything. Skystalker remains quiet and observant through the back and forth, amber optics watchful. As Cosmos gives the bottle a spin, Skystalker stifles a tiny smile for the result, glancing up after Lieutenant and his subtle lean to the other spacer. Somehow he can't see Cosmos downing a shot of that Fuel?
Before Brigade knows it, Blaster is up in his space. The tank grunts in surprise. "I'm fine," he mutters. Besides, Vortex is waving that shot to take. Leaning over Blaster, the tank reaches out to grab it. And then Vortex makes the mistake of opening his mouth. Scowling, the tank growls, "What did you just say?"
Without any fanfare, the tank tilts the drink and tries to pour it over Vortex's helm.
Blast Off only gets a dead pan look. Excuse you, but were you a part of this conversation? Lieutenant doesn't think so. Besides, he quietly told Cosmos to. You, Mr. Upperclass-Snuffleupagus, can keep yours on since it makes you feel vulnerable without it. Now, back to work and ignoring what Brigade is doing to Vortex.
If Vortex's smile got any wider, his face might just split in half. His helm snaps around to stare at Blast Off intensely. "Yeah, yeah, take it off!" He elbows his brother. "What better way to celebrate getting you getting your face back then, you know, actually using your face! 'Sides, its so handsome- don't go depriving the world of it."
Vortex paws at the face mask with a small giggle, tilting his head up to look at Brigade. "Hehe, I called ya coward because-eep." The drink is poured and the copter pauses. Ah... Ah that's not so bad. It just... His rotors twitch. "Will this stings," he says cheerily, lifting his hands to wipe it off his visor. Peeled some paint off too... Why do they drink this???
Pipes observes from his perch at the bar. It seems like quite a stressful game now that no one is kissing, although the confetti was a nice touch. Overall, he's glad he's not involved. Directly, anyway. "Just do kisses!" he calls out helpfully. "You bunch of grumps!" His next drink promptly arrives, and he switches it in for his now-empty prior cup without looking.
Blast Off blinks as he gets that look from Lieutenant. His first response is to puff up just a bit like...what the slag is THAT look for? Then a shift as he realizes he might have mistook something for something else and... wait, now Vortex is speaking and OH GOD. The shuttleformer stiffens, circuits in his cheeks blushing as he stares wide-opticed at his bro. "I..what? I..." There's a gulp as the flustered shuttle is torn between his desire for privacy and his desire not to be seen as a *pansy*. It's... it's just one little action, for one little second, right? Vortex actually has a point, frag it all. Blast Off IS glad to have a face again. His brother calling him *handsome* melts the last of his resistance.
"ALRIGHT FINE." The shuttle removes his faceplate quickly, revealing a dark, surprisingly handsome face framed with those rich browns and purples, pale violet optics setting a nice contrast. His lips are pursed into dentae-gritted resolve to endure this as quickly as possible. "Ok, fine, Get it over with quickly."
Cosmos freezes when Vortex slides the bottle over to him. Oh no... He wants to say no to try and pass it off- ...ok so apparently thats not an option. He can just feel that things will get dangerous if he doesn't play now that he's sitting down. Warily, Cosmos gives the bottle a weak spin and his head tracks the end around the table until it lands on...
Cosmos has to kiss Blast Off... Ohhh this could get awkward fast. If Blast Off is red, Cosmos is the same scarlet as his own helm, which only gets worse at Lieutenant's comment. And even WORSE when its revealed Blast Off is handsome! Cosmos looks utterly plain in comparison... Maybe I can... I got it! Still blushing, Cosmos reaches up to remove his face mask before leaning across the table to Blast Off. A hand slides up to brush the side of Blast Off's helm... and Cosmos gives him a gentle kiss to the forehead.
Vortex never specifically said where he had to kiss someone. Cosmos gives Blast Off a small, shy, smile before he starts leaning back to his own seat. He does pause to look over at Vortex in a bit of alarm, that looks like it hurts!
"Yeah, I heard what you called me," Brigade snaps. "And you heard my answer loud and clear!"
As the tank tends to do, his voice is slowly rising in pitch without fully realizing it. If he doesn't stop soon he'll be hollering at the top of his vocoder. Thankfully for Vortex, the tank is over this whole situation. Not even drinks can make him stay around for this. "Enjoy the rest of your damn game." He turns to shuffle away.
"AW WHAT?! He takes off his faceplate and you don't event- I hope you're proud of yourself, lyin' frisbee..." Vortex huffs, taking the bottle and rolling it over to Lieutenant. He waves Brigade off. "We will enjoy it!" Stupid tank... He likes him. "Hmm... Okay, Blasty, Spacer, and Lieuraffe- one of you spin. Ya haven't spun yet."
Despite all that Skystalker has at odds with Blast Off, the way that Cosmos takes on his little dare has him uncovering a tiny smile over it. There's something a little sobering over the way that Brigade reacts to things, but in the end it's his own prerogative to leave. Pipes seems to be having fun in the gallery, anyway. Skystalker looks down to the bottle on the table, glancing up just once to the few gathered around before he gives it a spin. Might as well. He's had a few, it works.
There are only a couple spacers on this ship. All of them cute, so it must be a trait in their coding. Lieutenant gives props to Cosmos for doing what he did. Whenever the fellow green sits back down, the avian will pat his knee under the table. You did good.
Blast Off remains stiff and resolute as Cosmos removes his own faceplate, though his optics can't help but wander over and take in the other mech's face. Hmm... not bad. Actually sort of appealing in his own way, though *cough* of course Blast Off's spark belongs to Whirl and all. So now the two blushing beauties just stand/sit there and stare at each other... until Cosmos leans in and.... kisses Blast Off's forehead. The shuttle is still rigid, yet the touch is surprisingly .... nice. He doesn't totally hate it. Not *totally*. His shoulders even relax just a skosh.
Blast Off doesn't get kissed much, despite having a boyfriend (there's a hasty glance at Skystalker before Blast Off looks away again... his last kiss, after all)- Whirl having no mouth. It's a shame, but it is what it is, and Blast Off accepts it- and loves Whirl anyway. But still....
Cosmos's smile is met with a befuddled stare.... he's not sure what to do now. Blast Off's lips smack once, softly, he glances around a little awkwardly, and then he nods to Cosmos in acknowledgement. The corners of his lips curl slightly upward, stiffly, in an attempt to return the smile, though he still mostly manages to look more awkward than anything. At least his cheeks are starting to turn a darker color again. He glances to Vortex as he speaks, then to Sky as he reaches for the bottle. Yes, fine, someone NOT him do it Yes.
Pipes says, "Good one, Cosmos!" Pipes kicks his feet joyously at the little peck and at Blast Off's confused reaction. There's some good cross-factional relations right there. He doesn't even mind Brigade stomping out, he doesn't seem to have been into the game anyway, it's probably for the best. Pipes is almost wishing that he was taking part, but nah, this is about as much fun, and a lot safer. Plus, bartender, like, right here."
"Good one, Cosmos!" Pipes kicks his feet joyously at the little peck and at Blast Off's confused reaction. There's some good cross-factional relations right there. He doesn't even mind Brigade stomping out, he doesn't seem to have been into the game anyway, it's probably for the best. Pipes is almost wishing that he was taking part, but nah, this is about as much fun, and a lot safer. Plus, bartender, like, right here.
Cosmos stiffens when Vortex starts him giving him grief about the kiss, slouching down into his chair like before. He sinks even lower at the clearly awkward look Blast Off sends him. He tried to do a compromise and that clearly didn't work... can he just hide under the table? Lieutenant's pat gets a weak smile from him but it quickly fades back into a frown. He watches from the corner of his visor as Skystalker spins the bottle, gently pushing his own facemask around on the table in front of him.
Lieutenant really should be paying attention to the game because when he next looks at the bottle it's pointing at him. "Vortex, I am not spinning." he states firmly, assuming someone pointed the bottle at him to indicate it was his turn. "Point that thing at someone else."
Blast Off huffs softly at Lieutenant. "If *I* had to get kissed, you can endure it too." His expression is definitely nonplussed as he puts his faceplate back on. There, much better.
It's fortunate that Lieutenant isn't paying attention to what's going on-- Skystalker probably couldn't bring himself to the dare if he had been, because that would have meant a lot of staring. There is still some staring, of course, but it is only from Sky as he slips out of his chair and slinks around to the back of the librarian's while he is busy complaining about Tex pointing that bottle at someone else. If you're sitting at the table, aren't you playing the game?
Skystalker's hand slips delicately under Lieutenant's chin to prop it up as he dips down to make a prompt delivery on the lips. Next time, pay attention, Lieutenant.
<FS3> Cosmos rolls Noticed: Success. (3 8)
Cosmos gently taps Lieutenant, pointing over at Skystalker nervously. "Lieutenant... he spun it and it landed on you..." is what he whispers to his coworker. 'endure it'? Wow, ok that was a blow to my ego. Thanks for that. Cosmos is half under the table at this point. He eagerly awaits Lieutenant's reaction to being smooched, though. This should be good.
Vortex crosses his arms. "No," he tells Lieutenant, watching Skystalker move. Hehe... He approves of this sneakiness. His rotors prick. Ooooo- now that's a kiss. Laughing, he applauds Skystalker. "Woo! Someone gets the game!"
Lieutenant only responds to Blast Off's comment with a narrowed gaze, albeit confused by the comment. "W--" Is all he gets out before Skystalker takes his chin and attention. Thoughts race to pull away out instinct from being touched, especially near a vulnerable part of his frame. What keeps him from reacting is the memory of how warm Skystalker's touch was in contrast to his own colder frame when they were alone that one time. He's always cold, but warm touches were welcomed.
It's when Skystalker -repeat- Skystalker of Nyon kisses him that his face grows hot and red. His makeup that covers his freckles over his cheeks fail as they seem to brighten through due to the amount of blushing the librarian is doing at that moment. His fins lower back meekly, fluttering, as his wings spread out slightly with alarm.
Lieutenant should have been paying attention.
"Hail lads!" Whetstone trots into the pub and quickly finds a seat beside Blast Off, where Brigade was. He drums his claws on the table cheerily. "I hear you're playing a rousing game of chance! What are we gambling? Are we playing cards? I'm very good at cards!"
Cosmos can't blame Lieutenant for getting flustered. it IS 'Skystalker of Nyon'. The UFO is flicking between amused and slightly concerned for his friend. That reaction didn't seem too good. He pauses as Whetstone joins them, wondering if he should tell the dragon to run.
When Skystalker tips his head away, it's to the echo of Vortex's crowing and Lieutenant's feverish flicker of heat that tempers at his face. His thumb taps light on the end of the taller mech's chin, and he gives a shy smile of his own before stepping away and moving back into his seat.
"Game of chance? Sort of." Skystalker leans his elbow on the edge of the table and sends Lieutenant another smile before looking to Whetstone.
"Awwww!" One can almost see little hearts popping in the air above Pipes when he sees Skystalker kisses Lieutenant. "Now that," he gestures for his bartender, "is more like it. Getting along." Quite satisfied with the camaraderie exhibited by his crewmates, Pipes settles back and strikes up a chat with others at the bar. He's a bit friendlier than usual, even.
Vortex's rotors rise. Holy Primus above that does not exist! Mr. Lightbright! Puff the magic dragon! Braveheart! Its Whetstone. The copter leans on the table, grinning broadly for the Knight so he can see how many fangs and teethes he has packed in there. "Definitely a game of chance. Lemme show you how it works- HEY! Anyone mind if I take another spin? Ehh? Eheheheh?" He reaches out for it, wondering if anyone will contest him for the bottle.
Blast Off watches the kiss- then pulls away. Hmph, not interested. Yeah, that's it. He just huffs softly and makes sure to stare at ...well, anything else. The sniper is just removing his hand from his newly reattached faceplate when some huge mech comes up and sits down next to him. The standoffish shuttle bristles a bit, looking Whetstone up and down warily, and leaning a little bit away. Hail lads? Who the slag is this guy anyway? Oh wait, Blast Off has seen him before somewhere, hasn't he. And come to think of it *hail lads* almost sounds... civilized somehow, so maybe he's not totally horrible. Vortex sure seems to like him, at least. "Some silly childish nonsense, is all." Never mind that he himself got sucked into it. He waves a hand at Tex. "Whatever."
Lieutenant only blushes even more at the smile Skystalker gives him and yanks his visor over his flustered face. He's already crumbled in front of everyone here, he is not topping it off with trying to smile back at Skystalker. (He did that once and swore to himself never again.) "<< You are going to be the metaphorical death of me. >>" he comms over to Skystalker, before grabbing the bottle before Vortex does and spins it.
"Childish nonsense? Nothing wrong with rivalry!" Whetstone claps his hand down on Blast Off's shoulder and gives it a shake. "Your cheshire grin won't work on me, chopper. Now, let me win some shanix!" He watches the bottle spin.
"<< There are worse things to die from. >>" Skystalker's response over the comm to Lieutenant is one of buzzed playfulness. He is feeling good enough to participate and good enough to joke around; not quite to the point where he might ignore any true irritation. Aware, perhaps. It makes sure he doesn't smile at Lieutenant again, for the other mech's sake.
"Gahhhhhh!!" Blast Off exclaims as Whetstone's hand suddenly slaps down on him and shakes him, rattling the paper napkin- I mean shuttle and causing him to look up at the mech. Sputtering, he tries to scramble away from the contact. "EXCUSE ME!" He brushes some imaginary dust from his arm and shoulder as he does so. "I don't know where you're from, but where *I* am from we value *personal space*." More brushing and fidgeting of hands. "Also, it's not rivalry, it's a game of chance."
Vortex pouts as the bottle is taken from him. Stupid Lieutenant doing his- oh! Oh it landed on him. Hehe. "Blasty, you should drink some more. You're all wound up, hehe..." He smirks at Lieutenant, mouthing the word 'Ten' before sticking out and wiggling his forked, blue tongue. "Let's show Lightbright how this is played, right my dear Lieuraffe?"
Oh... oh that landed on Tex- Vortex. Vortex.
Well, Lieutenant stores the datapad in his subspace and finishes his drink, then promptly stands up to make his way to Vortex. He has been informed what to do, and while still completely red in the face, he does something he will fully regret. Hand raised, he comes down to slap the Combaticon as hard as he can. Or... so it seems, until his hand entirely misses Vortex's head to take it from behind. He tilts the smaller mech's helm up and kisses him.
Blast Off turns to give Vortex a look. There's a pause as he considers something, then Lieutenant steps in. Blast Off waits for the slap- which turns into a kiss??!! The shuttle stares at them a moment before he responds. "Actually, you're right, I do need to drink some more." With that, Blast Off reaches - not for his wine glass, which is empty now, but for the bottle of nightmare fuel. He pours himself a glass of THAT and drinks it down.
Whetstone quickly draws his hand away, his lengthy feather panels fanning out in what must be amusement. "I'm from Keystead Ridge! Dislodge the rebar from your aft, we just survived Functionists, you could stand to-" Then he watches the devilish chopper and Lieutenant /smooch/. "What kind of gamble is this? I see this bizarre terran custom in the halls a lot lately! Who won then?"
<FS3> Cosmos rolls Noticed: Failure. (1 2)
Cosmos' visor goes wide as Lieutenant kisses Vortex, a hand flying to cover the lower half of his face... but in reality it is to hide a smirk. Ok, that will do. Vortex probably wanted the slap for all they know. "It is called spin the bottle... there isn't really a winner, you either get kissed or slapped depending on votes.... its more of a game than a gamble."
Vortex spins in his seat, watching Lieutenant approach. His rotors perk happily as he sees that hand pull back. Lieu has spikey knuckles! Maybe he'll punch him! Primus, he can only hope! This is gonna be awesome- this game is a waste if ya don't get slapped at all! Honestly! Aw yeah, bring it green giraffe! Bring the-grrk!
Vortex lets out a noise of not only surprise but his rotors droop in disappoint. Why that... That... Oh, he thinks he can get him!? We-e-ell, think again, Autobot! Vortex wraps his arms around Lieu's head, kicking his feet so he can stand in his seat. Try and pull one over on him huh?! Well, take this! And some of this! Vengeful kiss back!
Skystalker can't hide a laugh, fleeting and faint. So what happens when someone breaks the rules? Apparently the next best thing? He hides the smile behind a hand again, laughing into his fingers. "Take it easy, you little monster--" Still snickering under his words.
Blast Off huffs at Whetstone again, waving his glass of nightmare fuel at the large mech. "I'll have you know there is NO rebar where it shouldn't be, and furthermore..." His drunken drawl gets interrupted as Vortex returns the favor, leaving Blast Off to stare as his teammate kisses the Autobot with such... hunger, oh my. "Vortex." He blinks. "Vortex..." His arm reaches to grab at the rotary's rotors. "That's enough, what would Air Raid think?..." I mean REALLY now.
Whetstone waits on Blast Off's 'furthermore', then thumps his fist on the table when Cosmos explains. "It's not a game of chance if there's no money and winners involved!" he complains, staring at the vengeful exchange. He then points. "Surely his wretched maw is filthy for all the bile he spews!" He still doesn't like you, Tex. "Bah."
<FS3> Lieutenant rolls Unarmed: Good Success. (4 6 2 3 8 7 6 2 7)
<FS3> Cosmos rolls Sass: Good Success. (1 3 8 7 1 8 6 3 4)
<FS3> Cosmos rolls Noticed: Failure. (1 2)
V O R T E X
Lieutenant should have expected this, but he didn't. He pays in full for going against everyone's choices. What makes it worse is that Vortex's face is still covered in Nightmare fuel so it stings. It was only meant to be quick! With little choice, the avian grabs Vortex to yank him off, to thrust him back into his seat. He's embarrassed, upset, and, frankly, he's had enough of this game.
Cosmos can't resist this, though he averts his optics... "Primus they are going to eat each other's faces at this rate..." Is muttered under his breath. That comment he doubts will be noticed... and for once he hopes it goes unnoticed. When Lieutenant is released Cosmos gently asks, "Lieutenant? You ok?"
Blaster gets up, seeing how this game is getting, and pulls Lieu protectively over to him. "LT, are you okay?" That was vicious of Tex, he gives the Combaticon a glare.
Whetstone's outburst catches Blast Off's attention, and the shuttle's gaze snaps back up to the larger mech. He stares at him, then back to Vortex, then back to Whetstone. "Excuse me?" His tone is a tad icy. Blaster's glare at Vortex is also noted but not completely unwarranted.
Lieutenant is not fine. He doesn't answer anyone's concerns though, just marches right on out of the bar. That's more than enough socializing for him for the next week! Now to head to the showers to wash his face and his mouth out. Then possible try drowning himself in the oil bath. Who knows.
Cosmos sends a worried look towards Blaster after watching Lieutenant leave. This is quickly dissolving into chaos and potential danger. His facemask is returned to its proper place and he starts watching for a chance to slip away. Maybe when the dangerous guys are distracted with the game... or fist fighting.
Vortex is totally ready to see this through and show Lieutenant what happens when you break sacred rules! The 'little monster' is about to sink his teeth- yeah, probably the face, Cosmos- into something when he hears Blast Off. Hnn... He's right. He has Air Raid's face to eat- or something or other, dunno. He's had an itsy bitsy to drink. But at the same time, jealous Raid is sorta- hnngh! The Combaticon jerks back as a rotor is grabbed before being thrown down by Lieutenant. Ow.
Vortex rubs the back of his helm, looking over at Whetstone. "You're bile," is his ever mature response. "Hey, uh, Lieu, look- oh. Bye Lieu... S'ya later. Maybe... ... So, who's next?"
Whetstone is briefly confused by Blast Off's offense. Oh right, Blast Off and Vortex are on the same team, aren't they. Whetstone murmurs sheepishly, folding his arms. No response to Vortex's oh so witty retort. "Oh, off he goes. Was that supposed to happen?"
Blaster watches Lieu stalk off, his expression concerned. "I think I am done for the night too. Thanks for the game." Some game. But what else can he expect from someone who initiated a slap or kiss game? He turns around to leave then.
Blast Off lifts an optic ridge as Whetstone mumbles, but leaves it at that. Yes, Vortex is a jerk, but Vortex is HIS jerk. Getting mad at Tex's actions is one thing, but personal insults are quite another! Huff. At least Vortex is behaving now. Blast Off leans back in his seat and glances over at Cosmos looking nervous over there, then at Blaster as he walks by. Then he eyes the nightmare fuel again. Hmm.
Cosmos looks slightly alarmed when Blaster starts leaving. What wait no! He can't leave me alone here, I don't know how to get away and these mechs seem like they might jump me! "I.. Uh.. I should- I need to go over some documents with Blaster. Bye." And Cosmos starts to get up to run after his boss. Save him Blaster! Be his excuse to get away!
Skystalker instantly feels awful for even snickering at it all now, turning his head to watch Lieutenant flee. "I think that there's been enough game for me." Though he smiles, it's a little tested. "I'll be back at the bar... Thank you for the excitement, I suppose." The starfighter angles up into a stand as he says this.
Vortex keeps looking at the exit and squinting. "I feel like I messed up... I should stop drinking so much..." Great- GREAT! This was supposed to be fun and now everyone was leaving all bummed. Uuuuugh, and its all his faaaaault.
The Combaticon bashes his head into the table, jarring his processor, and quickly sitting up. "WAIT! Blaster- cool slappy happy Blaster- didn't get a kiss. Frisbee! Space frisbee, give him a lil one. He can't leave without a kiss." He'll beg 'em to do it. HE WILL. He refuses to completely ruin this for everyone! Again!
Blaster looks back at Vortex, then at Cosmos following up next to him. Yes next, not behind him Cosmos. And then back at Tex again. "I think we all got enough of kisses, don't we?" And somehow he was the only one that slapped someone. Although that one wanted to be slapped. "I think work is calling me before I head to berth." Yes, he also has your back Cosmos. You want an out, he is giving an out.
Whetstone flicks his tail. Space frisbee. He watches Skystalker head off with a forlorn look, but otherwise says nothing, eying Blaster and Cosmos carefully.
Cosmos actually stumbles at Vortex's words, tripping over nothing as his visor widens, "Wha-what?" But Blaster is my boss- I mean the guys good looking ill admit that- But he's my boss! Cosmos continues to gape back at Vortex for several seconds, almost like he's trying to comprehend what the mech just said. "You want me to kiss... Blaster... I... Yeah work. That." RUN AWAY!
Aaaaaand rotor droop. That didn't work. And Skystalker left. "Uh-huh. I know when folks are lyin' ya know! Whatever, go have fun." Vortex huffs and snags the Nightmare Fuel from Blast Off. LEt's burn a hole in his fuel tanks and try forgetting tonight. "Least it was fun until, uh, the end there... Hey, Lightbright. Still wantin' a gamble or whatever? I'll give ya my soul if your stupid god gives me the ability not to screw myself over." More mechs to apologize to. He'll get to them all eventually. At least Blast Off is still here.
Blaster watches Tex for a bit longer, intending to leave, but not. Vortex actually seems angry with himself. Guilt for going too far? Has Tex always harbored actual emotions? He looks at Cosmos now, debating. "Mask on or off, Cosmos?" He finally asks.
"Why do you call me /Lightbright/," Whetstone says through his dentae. "You hadn't screwed yourself over," he adds, more gentle. "I imagine they're all 'funned' out. And don't try to sell your soul. You'll want to keep that."
Cosmos brain comes to a halt. What. Then he looks at Vortex... Oh no.. he looks so dejected... Cosmos' hands flex a few times as he thinks through possibilities.. before he slowly reaches up and removes his mask. If they are going to do this for the combaticon... might as well not half aft it. Ready whenever he is I guess... He can't bring himself to look directly at Blaster at the moment, though.. this is embarrassing and he's sure his face is bright red.
Blast Off just watches as several mechs make to leave, relaxing a bit as Skystalker does, then watching more neutrally as Blaster and Cosmos head out. He gives Vortex a glance at his suggestion for the two Autobots, then back at them, then- "Hey!" Vortex takes the nightmare fuel, leaving the shuttle to grab futilely at thin air. HUFFFFF. Blast Off grumps a little, then leans back. "Leave some for me." He then watches Blaster and Cosmos over there and... oh, Ok. This could be entertaining.
At least he watches until Vortex speaks of selling his soul. This earns the rotary a sharp look. "...Are you alright?" He asks dubiously, black fingers tapping slowly along the table's edge.
Blaster ... could hardly believe that Cosmos is complying. He expected an argument about how they should not. And if that was the case, Blaster would let it be. But apparently he and Cosmos both suffer from that softie syndrome. A slight smirk on his face again as he tilts Cosmos's chin up. "Try not to think too hard on this." He warns before he goes in for a full on kiss, instead of the chaste tiny one he planned.
... which was just going to be a simple kiss on the forehead.
Vortex has the Nightmare Fuel just a breadth away from his lips when he hears Blaster. What? He looks back at the two, rotors swinging up. Oh... Oh, they're doing it! Not a complete loss! He'll just have to apologize to Lieutenant now, he supposes... He smiles a bit, glancing over at Whetstone. "I like giving folks a nickname. If I like ya enough, its a cool one." He smile broadens. "Heh, think I have a soul, do ya Braveheart? ... And I'm fine Blasty. Here. Take the rest, don't need it." He watches Cosmos and Blaster kiss as he slides the Nightmare Fuel over. Aww, its sweet how they did that to make him feel better. Autobots are such softies- but its kinda nice.
Cosmos know they are just going to give a little kiss for Vortex then be of their- Holy Primus! Ok, that Cosmos was not expecting! His visor widens and... Well really his processor just shuts down. What is happening!? Once the kiss breaks it takes him several solid seconds before his mind catches up... and he awkwardly coughs before replacing his mask. "That was.. uh... Bye." Flushed beyond imagination, Cosmos is quick to spin on his heel and start to leave. meanwhile internally all that is going through his mind is, AHHHHHHHHH- What is happening!?
Blast Off tries not to look too eager when Vortex slides the nightmare fuel over to him. Where it's going to stay if he has his way. "Thank you." He pours himself a small glass, feeling tipsy already so he doesn't need too much more, and places the bottle down with fingers still resting around its neck. He gives Vortex another glance out of the corner of his optic (don't want the rotary to know he's just a tiny bit concerned), then is drawn to the spectacle that is that kiss. Oh my. "Nice." Blast Off comments before taking a sip of the nightmare fuel through his faceplate hatch.
Blaster just grins at Cosmos's fluster, and lets Cosmos scoot off. He then looks back at Vortex. "Hope that was a satisfactory kiss for all of you. Good recharge when you get there mechs." He then turns around and walks off, deciding to forgo work and just heading to berth himself. And a personal reminder to apologize to Cosmos for making him fluster so badly.
"Everyone has a soul, even you," Whetstone is back to muttering. Braveheart did sound cooler though. He has zero idea what it's a reference to. "Ah look at that. They've expressed their... cameraderie after all!" That's what that is, right. Hardcore friendship. Right.
Blast Off is getting drunk enough that he just nods and raises his glass in salute as Blaster addresses them and heads out. He glances at Whtetsone. "..." Then he lifts his glass to him, too. He's feeling a buzz and not feeling so prickly right now. "Cameraderie, right." Ok, maybe a tiny bit sarcastic though.