randomplaces | Nexus. The Black Dog. Adjusting to Change

It has been a few weeks in his universe's time since he's been back to the Nexus. Having met with Blue a short time after the incident, he already knew that Blue and the others were no longer here.

Curse that blasted Decepticon.

He has various reasons for not returning to the Nexus until now. The one he'll most likely admit is the fact that the Ark's become a bit hectic as his reality's Earth 'Cons have kicked things up a notch and are taking full advantage of their turn on the 'boom' side of the war's boom and bust cycle. Okay, they haven't taken over the world or anything like that yet, but only at a heavy price for the Autobots stationed on Earth:

A busy medbay.

And when the medbay is busy, someone's gotta make sure technical stuff in the Ark gets checked over and fixed, which would be him.

On top of that, at some point, Random ate the last Sunrise Hormah gave him.

No, he can't remember when, and that bothers him.

He arrives in the part of the Nexus near the bar via his PINpoint. He takes in all of the sights of it, picking out what has changed and what has stayed the same. A moment's hesitation delays him before he walks through the door for the first time since he learned of the eventual change . . .

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The big building holds the same scattered assortment of Transformers and their friends, and buzzes with the same sort of gossip, but the booth over in the corner now holds a large dark green spiky ~~bayformer~~ femme with optics the colour of dried blood. She's intent on the furry sparklet in her arms, talking to him seriously as she shares energon with him from her tank.

Two drones are working the floor, and a white ~~bayformer~~ femme with bright blue optics is manning the bar, at which sits another dark green spiky femme just a little smaller than Blackout. Speaking of Blackout, the dark warlady is conspicuously absent today.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. At least it seems the place hasn't lost any of its business with its change in management.

Trying to ignore the femme in the corner and the thoughts that pop up in his head about her, he walks over to the bar and takes a seat, asking the femme on duty for the list of drinks.

"Right there." She points to the blackboard up above the mirror and gives him a friendly smile before answering a call from further down the counter.

"Ah. Thank you."

Thus left alone, he takes a stylus out of subspace to fiddle with and he gives the blackboard a good look, specifically its mid-grade selection. ~~Getting drunk here probably wouldn't be a good idea.~~

That doesn't mean he's completely oblivious to everything around him.

"Is your name Random?" asks a gentle deep alto from next to him.

Oblivious or not, he finches slightly at the voice. Then he turns to look at her warily.

"Yes."

It's the tall green femme, and she's looking down at him with quizzical crimson optics from under a helm that bears some resemblance to someone he already knows.

She nods at his affirmation. "Hormah told us about you. I'm her sister Sheol."

Hmm. Now he sees why she seems familiar.

"Ah. Nice ta meet you," he nods in return.

She answers with a quiet smile, then looks at the cube in her hands before looking at his hands. Visible thought and consideration happens. Clearly, this femme is no master of small talk.

That makes the two of them then. His hands fiddle away at the stylus as he gazes at the menu again. He'll probably get the barfemme's attention the next time she walks by and make an order.

Sheol looks at the menu herself. "The fizzers are good."

"Sound good, too," he agrees.

"The blue's tangy." She swirls her cube gently.

"Hmm." It was difficult enough to make up his mind when so many options other than military standard issue is here, and now he might fall into indecision again.

Sheol swirls her energon again, then pushes over the plate that holds half a blue energon stick. "It tastes like that, only fizzy."

He looks at the plate and then at Sheol, his look slightly wary, before he takes a small bite. ~~Hormah's sister or not--Wait, he's not sure he completely trusts Hormah yet--~~

"Not bad."

The stick is tangy, but it's a completely different flavor from that of Cybertron Sunrises. This is a little sweeter; a little simpler; just a bit 'cooler'.

Sheol nods and sips at her cube, then has a bite of the stick herself and crunches it meditatively.

Hmm.

He fiddles with the stylus absently as he waits for a good time to get the barfemme's attention.

And here she comes, as soon as the ordered drink is mixed and delivered.

"What's yours?" she asks, still with that kindly smile.

"Um, I think I'll have [*insert drink he's wanting*] . . . please."

"Blue fizzer?" She looks under the bar. "Which brand?"

"Bottled," murmurs Sheol.

"Yeah, sure." Which brand? Great something else he has to think about.

He gives Sheol a quizzical look. Like the humans have it?

"Bottled, then," he says after some hesitation, still giving her the look.

A good sized bottle is set gently in front of him, and then the white femme's off in answer to another hopeful look.

"The balls aren't big enough for anything, and the stuff hasn't got as much flavor," explains Sheol, crunching on her stick again.

"Ah," he says, picking up the bottle and glancing in at it's contents as if he still didn't know what to make of this . . . alien idea.

"Don't shake it up too much, man," chuckles a cobalt blue mech with bright green optics as he goes past.

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Nexus. The Black Dog. Adjusting to Change

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