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2017-02-19 Sugar & Vinegar

From Transformers: Lost and Found

Sugar & Vinegar
Date 2017/02/19
Location Lost Light: Recreation -- Swerve's
Participants Grimlock, Tailgate, Waspinator
Plot A Midventure Night Dream
Summary Grimlock is bored, and naturally Security has to get involved.

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 booths 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.

A sign outside the door says:

                        No Guns, No Swords, No Bombs

Underneath is written: I MEAN IT!! LOCK YOUR WEAPON SYSTEMS DOWN AND DUMP EVERYTHING ELSE IN THE BIN BY THE DOOR. It is signed with a little frowning Swerve face.

On the other side of the door is a SHAME LIST. No, really, that's what it says. It has the number of days that various people are banned from Swerve's and counts down at the start of the morning shift.


  • KA-SMASH!*

The chair smashes into the wall hard enough to leave a dent-- it's a tribute to Swerve's planning that the chair remains in one piece ... or maybe it's a flaw, as such a solid bit of furniture makes for a fairly decent weapon when the need arises. Which is often, when you're a dinobot. Grimlock grunts, and then glares around at the poor 'bots who haven't the sense to get out of Swerve's just yet.

"Hnf. What're you gonna do. Call security?" He rumbles, and then reaches for another chair.

Sounds like someone might have-- called Security, that is. Despite being beat up the day before, Tailgate was eager to have his wounds saw to and get out of the medibay. That said, when he makes his way to Swerve's with a couple of his security mechs, it is with fresh welds on his thigh and on his forearm, where he was knifed and bitten. There's a stark change to his face, however, as the big blue visor normally bright with emotion is half missing. One half of the glass has been knocked out, and the optic behind it is almost antique, in a way; mechanisms shifting around the core of expressive sapphire. He'll have to have it replaced eventually, but at the moment it's not as important.

When the two mechs and Tailgate come through the door, it is when Grimlock is reaching for a fresh piece of furniture. "What's going on in here?!"

Grimlock throws another chair. *KRASH!*

At Tailgate's voice, Grimlock grunts, and nods. "Got bored." Is his explanation-- and then, slowly, Grimlock turns around ... and then, whatever mayhem he had planned trails off as he sees Tailgate's condition. Well then. Grimlock stands, and then tromps over to loom over the tiny Security Director.

"Who did this?"

Tailgate doesn't seem terribly satisfied with the 'bored' answer, but the sag of his shoulders is the only giveaway. The mechs with him tense a bit when Grimlock stomps his way closer, as if the dinobot might try to throw them around next. Who knows, with this guy?!

"What?" Tailgate puzzles out loud, taking a moment longer to wonder if Grimlock is talking about his face and the rest. Why would he ask? "I was serving Vor-- a restraining order. And is boredom really the best reason to trash the place?!" Because he'll totally see reason, Tailgate.

Without so much as knowing it, Grimlock reaches down with one massive hand to snag Tailgate around the waist-- gentle ... by Dinobot standards, at least, which means he's probably only going to scratch the paint instead of leaving dents. Probably.

"Vortex." The name is an epithet.

"You should've let me kill him." Grimlock mutters, even as he turns Tailgate this way and that, all the better to examine the various welds and wounds Tailgate's picked up. "Where is he now?"

Waspinator is one of the few patrons who was dumb enough not to leave... or in his case was too terrified to run and simply hid under the nearest table. He scrabbles further back into the shadows as Grimlock tromps past, trying to stay deathly quiet. What izz dinobot doing to minibot? Izz Dinobot going to hurt minibot?

Tailgate would be trying to hop out of the way of Grimlock's hand if it weren't for his limp and the hurt in his leg. The dinobot plucks him up with little fanfare, prompting the minibot to gesture a 'hold' frantically down to his two backup mechs, who look about to interfere once their boss leaves the floor.

"It wasn't his fault, he's sick and the guys in Science made it worse." Excuses abound for the combaticon, surprising from such a nice little minibot. Tailgate makes a sound of surprise when he gets turned about and examined, his small hands holding onto the bigger grip. The weld on his leg looks to be from a rather deep knife strike, and the shape of the welds on his arm are unmistakably mirroring a set of sharp teeth. "What-- are you doing, Grimlock?"

"Of course he's -sick.- Have you ever talked to him?"

Grimlock narrows his visor as he gets sight of Tailgate's repairs, and then finally puts the minibot down. "Hnf. You're weak. He could've killed you." Grimlock rumbles ... slightly less angry than usual. He grunts, and then stands up-- first the two backup mechs get a wary look, and then the rest of the bar ... and Grimlock finally turns his ireful gaze on poor, cowering Waspinator.

"What're YOU looking at?"

Waspinator clearly and obviously jolts when Grimlock locks his gaze on the bug, his very mad looking gaze. Backwards even more he scrambles to try and get away from the mech, "Wazzpinator not looking at anything!!" Any thoughts the bug might have had about potentially helping are very much gone now.

"Of course I've talked to him, he's on Security-- He could have killed me, but he didn't." Feet touching back down onto the floor, Tailgate sasses back. "Pipes helped. And I'm not dead, so I'd say I'm not so weak--" Why is he defending himself right now? To Grimlock of all mechs? The security bots he brought along earn a quick, somewhat reassuring look. See? Fine. Everything is fine--

"Leave him alone." Tailgate interferes again, this time stepping forward and putting himself in between the dinobot and the bug. "You can't trash the place and everyone in it just because you want to!"

Lucky for Waspinator, Tailgate bravely steps in the way. "Hnf. Least Pipes was there. He can fight." A pause. "... kind of." He grunts-- and as Tailgate berates him, Grimlock takes a half step back, shifting from one foot to the other. Uncomfortable? "HHnnn." He rumbles, and looks over his shoulder, surveying the damage. "Maybe I should've smashed up Mirage's bar instead. More expensive stuff to break."

"Hey, I can fight fine-- I shot a sling bullet down Tarn's gun, for Primus' sakes!" Tailgate feels like he's only a yapping sound in Grimlock's audials, but he still has to say it. "What? Noono. That would be even worse." Tailgate holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "He turns invisible, he'd be up in your grill while you recharged or something. Don't you have anyone in combat to practice beating up on?" While he tries to more or less talk Grim out of more smashing and maybe getting him elsewhere, the minibot glances briefly over his shoulder to where Waspinator was hiding.

Grimlock considers this. "Invisible. Hm." Grimlock reaches up and rubs at his chin, thoughtful. He tromps over towards a chair (one that happens to be at the table Waspinator's at-- guy better watch out or he might get booted by accident!) and hunkers down. "Still not scared of him. Bet I could punch him so hard he'd turn visible again, if I needed to."

Waspinator flails back as Grimlock approaches his table, crawling from one side to the other to avoid the mech's pedes from kicking him in the face... but he doesn't run to another hiding spot, in fact he's pretty frozen in fear right now. The bug knows what Grimlock is capable of and doesn't want to attract his attention by running! .... thats how you get Dinobots' attention right? You move too fast??

Tailgate looks over towards his security mechs and jerks his chin to motion them over to where things have been all upturned and broken. He's got this, but just for now. They can help Swerve out by turning things right side up, and if he needs them while he 'calms' Grimlock, well. They are there.

"Probably. But he's fast too, I hear." Tailgate very carefully angles himself near to the table, optics torn between watching his security team and keeping an eye on Grimlock.

Grimlock settles in at the table, apparently distracted enough from breaking things. For now. There's a moment, however, as Grimlock realizes just where he is ... and just who he's sitting with. At a table. By themselves. Well, almost.

"Hnh?" Grimlock grunts as his foot nudges something (or more specifically, someone)- and it's a simple matter to reach beneath the table and haul out a Waspinator, who Grimlock sets to glaring at. "The scrap are you doing down there? Hnf. Go be useful. Bring us a tank of engex or something." Nevermind the fact that Waspinator doesn't actually WORK there, Grimlock shoves the bugbot in the general direction of the bar anyway!

    <FS3> Waspinator rolls Reaction+Reaction: Good Success. (7 5 6 5 7 2 4 7)

Waspinator freezes even more when Grimlock hauls him up by the metaphorical scruff of his neck, arms and legs pulling in on themselves to protect his easy to break bits. When shoved away he nearly falls flat but manages to catch himself just in time to avoid completely falling. Dinobot wantzz energon- W-Wazzpinator can get dinobot energon!! If Wazzpinator get energon Dinobot not hurt Wazzpinator! Right? Right!? The bug flies off in a near panic to do as he's told.

It's a better idea to calm him than to try and drag him out of Swerve's, so Tailgate lingers there by the table, jumping a bit when Grimlock leans down and yanks Waspinator out. Luckily for him, he doesn't need to intervene there; Grimlock lets him go with a shove, and Wasp is buzzing his way off towards the bar.

Tailgate's vents open up in a sigh, the shade of his exposed ptic dimming, the remaining glass glittering with a downturned look. "Does shoving people around really always get you what you want? If you used more sugar than vinegar..."

Grimlock stares at Tailgate for a long, long moment. "... yeah?" He rumbles, as if explaining a basic concept to a slow child. "Besides, it's not like I -hurt- him. He was just hiding under the table, spying or something. Now he's doing something useful. It's good for him." Grimlock nods.

Waspinator would have a very different opinion if asked, Grimlock. The bug comes buzzing back with a tankard of engex and- after setting it down- is quick to try and run away again. He's learned the bad way staying put doesn't get one off a dinobot's radar.

Tailgate lifts a hand to his helm, knuckles dragging against the top. Ergh. "He was hiding from you, not spying. Asking someone gets pretty much the same results as pushin'em around." Tailgate shifts, putting more weight on his good leg and watching as Wasp comes buzzing back and tries to flee again.

Grimlock narrows his visor. "You were supposed to bring TWO--" he growls-- but then Waspinator's buzzed off! Grimlock considers throwing something at him, but thinks the better of it as Tailgate speaks up. "You're wrong." Grimlock says, wrapping his fingers around the tankard of bubbling engex. "While you waste time 'asking,' the mechs with the kind of bearings to get stuff done take what they want. Waste your time being 'nice,' and you're gonna get stomped on. Like you did. By Vortex." Grimlock growls again at that, and tightens his fingers around the mug, causing the metal to *crinkle!* inward.

"I'm on the job anyway, Grim." Tailgate reminds quietly, one hand on his hip joint. Though his leg is paining a bit and he's somewhat perturbed at the dino, Tailgate stays right there and listens as he gets berated over niceness. "It's never a waste to be nice. I got stomped on because I made a mistake and didn't take backup, not cause I was being nice." He avoids saying why he hadn't taken someone, at least. "I'd rather earn what I want than take it. What's the point otherwise?"

Grimlock grunts at Tailgate. "Taking it -is- earning it. Earning it by being stronger. Meaner." He takes a pull from his dented mug, and then turns his visor down at Tailgate. "What do you know, anyway? Didn't you spend the whole war in a box or something?"

"It wasn't a box." Tailgate huffs, chin held high and the light of his optics narrowing. "It was underground. For millions of years. In two pieces. How's that for weak?" There's a bit of defiance at the end, self-conscious but aware. "So how many friends has being stronger and meaner gotten you? Betcha all that is why you drink alone all the time, huh?"

Grimlock hnfs at Tailgate. "I spent a millenia or two under a volcano. Got in some good fighting beforehand, though. Unless you took some 'con down with you." A pause as Grimlock considers this. "... you don't have an arch-nemesis or anything, do you? Like a little tiny Shockwave or something?" He says-- and at the 'drinking alone' thing, Grimlock narrows his optic slightly, and leans back.

"Uh. You're here?"

"It was before the war." Tailgate doesn't tell Grimlock that he basically got lost and fell in a hole. He'll skip that part. "Arch-nemesis? Er, no? I don't think so--" Maybe Quicksight, but only because Quicksight seems to hate everyone anyhow.

"I'm here cause you were smashing the furniture into the walls and someone called security." Tailgate holds up a finger as he points this out. "And I mean when I see you any other time."

Grimlock pauses, realizing Tailgate's got a point. He stares at the little minibot for a long, long moment-- there are no swelling violins or sprays of cherry blossoms --nothing but cold, awkward silence. Huh. Grimlock finally kicks back the rest of his engex, and stands. "You're right. This is dumb. You've got better things to do." And with that, Grimlock flings his empty engex canister aside (possibly in Waspinator's general direction if he's not careful) and then stompstompstomps out of Swerve's.

Well, uh. That means he's not breaking anything, right?
    <FS3> Waspinator rolls Fate's Chewtoy: Good Success. (3 4 5 8 5 4 1 2 1 7 3)

Waspinator peeks his head out of his hidey hole at the worst possible second. Grimlock's glass flies through the air and nails the bug right in his insectoid face, causing him to fall backwards with a yelp of pain.

Though the silence is a bit chill and the awkwardness is apparent, Tailgate can't help but be curious given that Grimlock was one of the volunteers from before. Is he sick too? Usually he's more than ready to bark back? And with the demanding nature of earlier... Tailgate stares back with a large optic showing, the other one under the visor bright to match.

"Try to behave a little more, Grimlock. We're not the ones to beat up." Tailgate says this at the broad retreating back. The canister doesn't get a look until it contacts with something, and Tailgate looks away from Grimlock stamping his way out of the bar to see Waspinator in pain. Of course it hit him. Everything does.

"Heya, buddy, lemme help..." Tailgate limps his way over to Waspinator to help the bugbot back to his feet.

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