2017-02-21 The Drunk and the Tank
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|2017-02-21 The Drunk and the Tank|
|Location||Lost Light: Docks and Storage -- Shuttle Bay|
|Participants||Lieutenant, Fortress Maximus|
|Summary||What do you do with a drunken, shrunken Lieutenant? Try to calm him down?|
The four shuttle bays accommodate one of the ship's four shuttles in each bay. The first bay is dominated by the Rodpod. Yes, it really does look like Rodimus's head. No, you can't take it out for the joy ride. Easily the fastest of the shuttles, it is also the smallest. The second (O Fortuna) and third bay contains shuttles which are slightly slower, yet not so large as the shuttle in the last. The last bay contains the Scout Ship "The Leading Light" which can carry a hundred without difficulty.
Well illegal drinking along with the weakest high-grade tolerence on the ship, mixed with a tiny frame, Lieutenant is set for a night on the town. Or ship, actually. From the baths to the shuttle bay to climb up onto the shuttles, and scaling the walls to find a high perch. He may be unable to fly but he can glide at least! The only thing that gives the small librarian away is his hiccuping.
Fortress Maximus isn't on maintenance crew, but he volunteered to help with ship maintenance just because it's something to do. He actually likes cleaning; it's not exactly mindless, but somehow relaxing, repetitive and steady motions that start to come naturally. And being a big mech, he doesn't tire easily even when mopping the floor of the shuttle bay.
The tankformer looks lost in thought, but at least it's in a serene way, as opposed to a jittery one.
Lieutenant isn't in the best of mindsets, currently. He's only thought is to fly, even if he can't really. The avian leaps off a ledge near the ceiling (how he managed that, yet can't walk straight is a mystery), wings spread out as he glides like a vulture around the room, circling over Fortress Maximus. Mostly because he's the only one on the ground. And look at how much the mech has grown!
"Don't move! I'm coming in for a landing!" Lieutenant announces in an unusual, and rather oddly chipper voice. His 'landing' however is him clinging onto one of Max's treads like a pole. "Success!"
Fortress_Maximus rolls Stress: Good Success. (7 6 1 7 5 4 2 1)
At the unexpected sound of a cheerful drunken voice, Max jumps and drops his mop, looking around in alarm as his old combat instincts kick in. Thankfully they don't kick in too much as the currently-a-minibot lands on his treads. Not a threat, not a threat, he reminds himself. Just a...what?
He freezes when he realizes there is, in fact, someone hanging off his treads. Max looks over his shoulder as much as he can, which is not very far (he wasn't built for flexiblity and those treads get in the way) and intakes a deep breath. He does not like people touching those. "...What are you doing?"
He doesn't quite recognize Lieutenant yet, because he still associates that name with 'serious green Avian' and not 'chirpy green minibot avian.' And also he can't see him.
Lieutenant decides that this is his perch as of just now. Normally he's very respectful of boundries, keeping his hands to himself and expecting others to do the same. Not now though. "Nothing *hic* really," the avian replies honestly, trying to climb around to sit on Max's shoulder. He doesn't sit on it, just lies on his belly draping over the bara's shoulder. Aside from the many differences he's undergone, Lieutenant's cheeks and nose are now peppered in freckles. His makeup came off in the baths and now every freckled area on the avian is revealed. Normally, he would care about his appearence but, his giddy smile is rather carefree. Giggling too of all things, "Just doing *hic* me, and I see you *hichic* are doing you and you are biiiiiiig *hic* again~ I like you bigger the best." *hic*
Why is that voice familiar?
Oh, right, Lieutenant, the stoic and then frightened green mech who seemed close with the very unnerving Starstruck. Who was shrunken along with Max himself, who has recovered much quicker than Lieu, it seems. This is confirmed when Lieu climbs in view, tiny and obviously very inebriated. And freckly, Max notes.
The freckles are cute; he'd be able to follow that train of thought further in less, um, awkward circumstances. There's a slight energon flush in the big mech's cheeks that's probably due more to, well, Lieu is sitting on him. He could easily just put him down, but...
He vents. "Hello, Lieutenant." It seems Lieu can stay for now. "I see you've taken longer than expected to recover. What are you doing?"
Lieutenant's smile only grows brighter as poor Fortress Maximus blushes. He shifts to scoot closer to the mech's face so he can poke his cheek, tittering as he does. Fins flutter in delight as he rests a cheek in his hand to coo at the mech, "I *hic* told you what I'm *hic* doing, you silly~" Now both hands rest under his chin, admiring the mech. "*hic* You are too handsome, you know?"
Fortress_Maximus rolls Socialize: Good Success. (8 8)
Fortress Maximus is not used to being this close to people. At all, ever. What was it he just told Rung, he was trying to learn how to make connections and sustain them? But not like this.
"I, um. Thank you." He says it in the lowest his booming voice will go. He knows Lieutenant is wasted out of his mind right now and would probably say that to anyone, but even he likes a compliment sometimes. He could just pick Lieutenant up and carry him back to his habsuite for the other mech's roommate to deal with, but he isn't sure how much more awkward that would get. Better if Lieu goes willingly.
"Say, you probably want to get some rest for tomorrow. Sounds like you had a busy day." No kidding. "It might slow your, um, re-growth if you tire yourself out. Why don't I take you back?"
He flashes an approxomation of the same sort of smile he used to give his soldiers and fellow guards to encourage them before a battle, because that's really the only kind of 'winning smile' Max knows. It is tempered by the fact that oh god he's so flustered right now, which is probably why it's not terrifying.
"Max, Max, *hichic* Max.." Lieutenant's face gets serious, or more along the line of trying to look it and failing. "I don't rest, that's not a thing I like doing." He starts listing off his fingers, "Nightmares, reliving memories, not to mention the neighbors; but you know, they're a cute pair but when you have a seismic sense it's like being in the room with them. You can feel the mushiness going on in there." Hand waves as he stands up and leaps off Fortress Maximus' shoulder to glide down and give a triumpant smile. "Can't make me go back
Nightmares. Ohhh. Well, that's familiar, one reason why Max is glad he doesn't currently have a roommate. At least he doesn't have to deal with conjux neighbors. He does look visibly relieved when Lieutenant glides off his shoulders.
"Ah, well, um." He rubs the back of his neck, plan A having failed. But he has to burn out and crash soon, right? Lieutenant's not that big right now. "Wouldn't want to make you do anything you don't want to. Though I'm not really doing anything exciting right now, just...mopping...it's kind of relaxing."
Well when he puts it that way it does sound kind of odd, doesn't it. "But I mean if you...want to join in." With something nice and relaxing and boring and hopefully this will calm Lieu down.
Mopping? Lieutenant perks his fins up at that with a two finger, "Sounds good to me!" Now watch as the librarian walks in a large circle, orbiting Fortress Maximus in search of a mop. Maybe? Who knows what he's doing anymore. He's just doing what he does. "Clean up, clean up, everybody everywhere..." he says to himself in a gleeful little tune before plopping to sit down on the mop. "everybody do your share~"
Unfortunately, Lieutenant is a mech who will push through over a month without recharge, and anything 'boring' is something enjoyable to him. There is no getting rid of the tiny drunkard.
Well. That was unexpected. Even back in his early MTO days, Max rarely found anyone who shared his thoughts on the relaxing nature of mindless work. Maybe that's one reason why they made him warden, since it required so many tasks other mechs might find tedious, checking on row after row of STOP NO WE ARE NOT THINKING ABOUT THAT RIGHT NOW.
Yes. Cleaning. Drunktenant. He watches Lieutenant circle around him and sing, dimly wondering if the poor guy will remember this later when he's sobered up. He picks up his own mop and starts, well, mopping, keeping an eye on Lieu to make sure he doesn't glide off on the wet floor or something. "So. Do you...drink often?"
Lieutenant stands up and pushes his own mop around, although he is rushing it. It's not easy cleaning when you're so small. "Nah, I don't *hic* like drinking but I noticed a book my roommate checked out recently, *hic* felt some old memories coming back, and when I was offered *hic* a drink I took it!" Swish swish, goes the mop as he swings it around on the floor. "Fifth time drinking, ever and that was my one, two... seventh drink ever!" He's a novice and a lightweight, so that ought to say something. "Don't want to make a *hic* habit of it, for course. *hic*" Just starting to realize he needs a replacement for syk. Or he could, you know, stop avoiding his therapy sessions. But the streak must go on! It's the thrill of a challenge!
Max gets splashed with mop-water, which is fine. It rinses off. "Yes, it's...not a great coping mechanism. Habit. I mean." Not that he would know, of course. Not like his conversation with Fritz got kinda fuzzy after he tried the same thing Fritz was having and he certainly didn't wake up face down on the floor of his habsuite.
"I mean not implying you were using it as a coping mechanism, just that...sometimes when it's a habit I...nevermind." Well, the rare burst of social confidence was nice while it lasted.
On the floor he can't quite reach his face, so Fortress Maximus gets sympathtic pats on his foot... with the mop. "I get what you mean, don't worry!" Lieutenant gets back to mopping, smiling back at the larger mech. "Just so you know, you deal with things your way. Drinking, crying, holding it all in until you eplode. Not all of them are healthy, but not everyone is willing to open up. Or doesn't feel ready to talk about them. Some don't even realize they have something to cope from and they wonder what's wrong with them? Where did I go wrong?" The avian pushes the mop around with quick strokes back and forth. "You know what isn't such a bad idea though? Keeping a journal. Just write it all out, everything you feel. It helps, and you don't have to tell anyone about it!" Now to run around, mopping the floor while giggling.
Max actually stares down at the little Lieutenant being...surprisingly wise. For a piss drunk person playing around with a mop, anyway. Though his first instinct is to counter that holding everything in is fine, it's worked just perfectly up until now, he realizes that would sound odd if spoken aloud. And he'd be debating with a drunk person. So he focuses on the other bit. "A journal? I...I guess...oh, hey , hold on! You'll knock something over!" His big pedes thud on the floor as he runs after Lieutenant.