2017-02-17 You Again?
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Location||Habsuites - Brigade and Lockjaw's Habsuite|
|Summary||Summary of these two as roommates: grunts in greeting, grunts in farewell.|
Brigade is a rare sight in his own habsuite, spending long hours down at the practice rooms or rifling through paperwork. Once in a while, though, the tank swings by to recharge and hang up a new cane to display. Today, he's on the second errand. He's only just been reassigned to a new room and he's taken part of the day off to start decorating. Brigade's side of the room already has a good twenty or so canes hanging prominently from the walls. There are dozens more arrayed on the recharge slab and waiting to take their place there, too.
Brigade is fitting a new hook on the wall when he thinks he hears something. With a grunt, he lifts his cane to the hook and presses a button on the handle. THUNK. A rivet shoots out and affixes the new hook to the wall. Apparently the cane he is toting today doubles as a rivet gun. That completed, he turns around to face the newcomer. "Frag, it's you," he greets them. This whole deal with room changing hasn't bothered Lockjaw much. It's not like she'd seen much of her former roommate, so there's no loss there. So long as the new one isn't noisy or irritating and doesn't interupt her rest, just about the only thing she returns to the hab for, she'll be satisfied.
Thus, the greeting she recives, and the sight of the mech sending it earns but a low snort "Yes, it is me. And that is you. Am I to assume that you are my new roommate?" she offers him only half a look as she heads towards her side of the room, her voice not exactly amicable, but not entierly hostile either.
Brigade gives a quiet chuff. "It would stand to reason. I don't hang my collection in random mecha's habsuites," he answers. Well, that's that. There's not a lot to be done about it other than to deal. Brigade has had bunkmates longer than he can remember, spending most of his life in a military environment, and more than his share of bad ones. This is not going to shake him.
"Don't touch my canes; don't touch my paperwork; and if you feel the need to threaten me again just go for a good, honest punch. Then we'll get along splendidly." As Brigade talks, Lockjaw reaches behind her, grabbing the hilt of her sword, swinging the tip in an arch as she pulls it out. She does not proceed to raise it, however, simply setting it to rest against the wall next to her bunk "If you feel the need to harass my friends again, I will make sure to keep that in mind." There is a low, warning note in her voice, but she's still not being outright threatening "If you simply wish for a fight, you have but to ask."
"Harass?" Brigade repeats, unable to hold back a bark of laughter. The tank leans heavily on his cane, reaching over to grab one of the others laid out on the bed. Without a word, he reaches up and hangs it on the display hook. "It's my fault they veered around the hallway and nearly ran into me? It's my fault I tried to help him get back up again?"
If that's Lockjaw's definition of harrasment, this is going to be a more difficult bunkmate than he first imagined. "I might take you up on that tussle, but not until the next combat training." "As I said then" Lockjaw sets down onto her own bunk, pulling her feet up after her to stretch out to her full length, hands propping her head up "If that was your intent, you have my grattitude, but it would have been prudent to release him once he started protesting”
Brigade turns around, rubbing at his jaw with a thoughtful expression. "Seems to me I didn't have much time to do much of anything. Tried to help the guy up and when he got a little startled you immediately drew a sword on me. And then I let him go," he trails off, quirking an optic ridge at this self-righteous 'hero.' Of course, some people like to remember things how they want, not how they actually happened. He wouldn't be surprised if that's the case here.
"Trust me, I have better things to do with my time than terrorize the mailmech. Maybe help him toughen up a bit if I could, but that's his choice and not mine." "There are two things that I have learned" Lockjaw muses as she lounges on her bunk "The first, from a lifetime of conflict, is that dallying when a friend could be in danger could be a fatal mistake. The second, I have come to realise quite recently, and that is that there is a good reason as to why Onyx Prime forsook Cybertron. You standards are quite eager to bring harm to others. I believe you had recently ended a war" she gives a slight laugh "started because of that tendency, yes? If what you say is true, then we have no quarrel."
Brigade has had enough of nailing hooks to the wall for now. The tank hobbles over to the workstation, settling down into the chair in front of it with a groan. "Standards? Never heard that used as an insult before. You'll have to do better," Brigade mutters, only half-listening to his new roommate now. So far their conversation has not gotten them very far. He gives an amused snort when she finishes.
"Maybe I'm too much of a newbuild to understand these things, but isn't it a bit ironic to say 'I've lived with a lifetime of conflict' and then 'Your species is a bunch of warmongers'? But I guess that doesn't matter much. I agree I'd rather not spend the rest of our time in our shared habsuite arguing."
Lockjaw raises a brow ridge "I did not mean it as an insult. That is is simply what we call those with altmodes like yours on Eukaris." What is it with this guy getting pissy all the time? "It is true that the tribes are in constant conflict, but we do it for the sake of survival, whereas I've seen, even experienced" that's said with an unhappy hiss mixed in "Your kind harm others simply because it behooves you, and we atleast tend to stick to fighting, not..." she lets out another, angry hiss. Not something she ahs fond memories of "What I've seen your kind do."
Brigade is built for war, and he has heard this speech from many, many mecha before. It does not make a dent. The tank is aware that he is built for war, and he is not ashamed of it. He has made his weakness into his strength. "I can't say I really know much about that. I was not constructed before the war began. How and why my predecessors started it will never be something I can experience first hand. I know what I know," he answers, shrugging his shoulder armor. And what he knows is war. All of its terrors and horrors, but also its comraderie. He would not trade his life for another's. "But you won't have to worry about seeing much of 'my kind' around here. I don't come around my habsuite other than to recharge. Don't worry that I'm going to start a war by backfiring in your vincinity," he jokes, chuckling and throwing the other mecha a wink. "If any war starts it'll be in the practice rooms where mecha can't escape my backfiring."
Lockjaw chuckles as well. A war due to backfiring, eh? Then again, who knows with these standards. She wouldn't put it past them. Settling down, she lifts her head, tilting it slightly as she studies the tank "'Constructed'... it still fascinates me how you standards managed it. We have plenty of warriors in my tribe, but noone can predict whether a hatchling will actually be suited for combat." she looks down, and then up, past Brigade, towards the wall, and his collection "Nor have I ever seen anyone with a weapon like that." Who uses canes for any serious combat?
Brigade's canes are a topic that he can easily get behind. He perks up in his seat, glancing up at the wall with the look of a proud father. "Oh, those?" he asks. "Well, if I have to carry around one all the time I might as well make them damn useful, don't you think? Besides, no one expects it. That's the magic. You haven't even seen what the best ones can do."
Leaning around, he peers at the lone sword that lays on Lockjaw's side of the room. "I almost don't regret giving up more pointy weapons. Or boom-y weapons. Though it doesn't hurt to have those around, either. But I'll have to show you what they can do sometime."
Just talking about his canes has Brigade excited about displaying them again. Hauling himself back to his pedes, he moves to grab another hook from the pile. "Guess I better get back to work, though. I don't have another day off for weeks. We'll have to find another time to chit-chat. Or not. Doesn't really matter either way."
<FS3> Lockjaw rolls Chill: Good Success. (5 8 8 4 6 8 4 2)
"The element of surprise is a useful advantage" Lockjaw nods approvingly. She's quite fond of that one herself. Not everyone expects the log floating in the water to turn out to actually be a scalewalker. Her brow ridge furrows however at Brigade's decleration of his intent. The gator lets out a long, low vent "Then I suppose I will come back later. I had hoped for a nap." with a grunt, she pushes herself into an upright position and slides off her cot, reaching for her sword "Perhaps the oil baths will be quiet. The warmth is quite pleasant."