RCV. Autobot base. Stray.

[ssjmihoshi]

Jazz: *sudden wash of glee and surprise* -Holeee cats!-

Recon: *reflects his surprise, with added confusion* -Vhat is it?!-

Jazz: *SO much glee* -Baby, you ain't gonna believe what just followed 'Hide home!-

Ironhide: *growls at the silver CO2* What are you looking at?

Jazz: You! :D

Ironhide: *embarrassed and angry* I didn't do anything! He just won't quit following me! *turns to glower down at the bot behind him*

bot: *tall, skinny mech of a more compact tech comprised of raven and lynx parts. Currently in root mode. Would be 7 feet tall if he wasn't cowering under the glare. Scoots behind the black hulk, wings shielding himself*

Jazz: *gently, even as he comms Optimus* Easy, 'Hide. Yer scarin' him.

Ironhide: *gruff sound and looks away from the youngster, his attitude shifting from angry and chagrined to protective*

bot: *slowly looks around, having to crane his neck to see past his huge beak-like visor*

Recon: *slight worry* -Ironhide didn't do anything rash, did he?-

Jazz: -Nah. This kid don't look nothin' like him or 'Mia.- //Op? You copy?//

Optimus Prime: //Yes, Jazz. What is it?//

Recon: *pondering* -I'll be sere soon, dear.-

Jazz: -Alright, baby.- *lovebombs her* //Lemme show ya a visual.// *sends Optimus a feed of what he's seeing*

Recon: *small cuddle of contented love before turning her thoughts to other things*

Optimus: //What on Cybertron...? I'll be right there.//

bot: *slowly shuffles between Ironhide's legs, claws clicking on the floor*

Ironhide: *hunkers down and studies the little bot* *gruffly* What's your name?

Jazz: //Alright, bossbot.// 'Hide, Op's on his way.

Ironhide: *possessive hunch of shoulders*

Jazz: //Hey, 'Bee? You on base?//

bot: *skitters back, optics blinking at Ironhide's question. Looks to be processing*

Bumblebee: //Sorry, Jazz, Sam and I are driving.//

Jazz: *frowns* //Dang. Wanted ya ta come help this kid realize 'Hide ain't gonna eat him.//

Bumblebee: *deedling laugh over the comm* //You're on your own today, bro. Whose kid is it this time?//

Jazz: //He jes followed 'Hide home. Oh yeah, and we got a great big box 'a those good eats from the Nexus earlier.//

Bumblebee: *excited beeps* //'Hide told me! Save me some, I'll be around tomorrow. 'Bee out.//

Jazz: *chuckles over the channel* //'Hide's the one that'll be savin' it. He run off with most'a it.//

bot: *working his mouth servos. Just now remembering he has a vocalizer*

Ironhide: *frown of concern and talks to the kid in Cybertronian. Tries several different dialects, including Conehead* //Ratchet, I think we've got a new activation here.//

Optimus: *comes striding down the hall* What is going on now? *keeps his distance to avoid scaring the youngling*

bot: *looks at his wings, then back to Ironhide* Black... wing. I am Blackwing.

Ironhide: *gruffly* You do have English. Blackwing, huh? I'm Ironhide, that's Optimus Prime, and that reject's Jazz.

Jazz: *charming grin* Hey, man.

Optimus: *softly* Hello.

Blackwing: *straightens* What is... English?

Ironhide: The language you're using. *frowns*

Optimus: *squats slowly* Do you know how you got here?

Blackwing: *blinks again, slowly shaking his head*

Ironhide: *frown deepens* You followed me.

Blackwing: You looked... nice. *hopeful*

Ironhide: 0_0 I did?

Jazz: *sputters and snorts, trying with both hands to keep the mirth in*

Blackwing: *now sad, curling in on himself*

Ironhide: Hey. *gruffly gentle as he sees if he can't pick the little bot up. Has forgotten that Optimus and Jazz are there*

Jazz: *isn't laughing anymore. His optics are bright as he watches*

Blackwing: *skuttles back and forth, curling up in Ironhide's hand if he closes in*

Optimus: *comms Jazz as he watches too* //Which tech do you think he is?//

Jazz: *quietly, as Ironhide lifts the little bot and rumbles at him softly* //Looks like a Maximal ta me.//

Galloway: *stops and glowers disapprovingly* Is that another unreported visitor?

Ironhide: *without taking his eyes off Blackwing* Were you betting on that horse racing game at work again?

Galloway: *GONE*

Jazz: 0.0? XD!

Lennox: *2 steps behind Galloway* Ironhide, I go to Vegas for one weekend and you pick up a stray!

Blackwing: *peeking up*

Ironhide: *optics flash as he holds the little bot close* He followed me home.

Lennox: *laughing* I hope you're not asking me if you can keep him.

Ironhide: Nope. *looks down at Blackwing, rumbling again*

Jazz: //Op, you think he realizes he's talkin' like he's mentor to a newbot?//

Optimus: *soft snerk* //No.//

Blackwing: *uncurls, studying the bigger bot's construction*

Lennox: *continuing to enjoy the fake father/son moment* You'll have to clean up after him, you know.

Ironhide: *to the youngbot* You hungry?

Jazz: //Hey, 'Mia, remember how kid crazy 'Hide's ben bein'?//

Chromia: *from behind her mate* I see what he did.

Jazz: Yeep!

Blackwing: *pondering the question, until Jazz yelps and then he's a ball of feathers again*

Chromia: *hunkers down to see past the big black hulk blocking the hallway* Hello, Daniel.

Lennox: *hefting a bag onto his shoulder* Hey, Chromia. *looks up at said hulk* What's its name?

Chromia: He told 'Hide his name's Blackwing. *looks over at Optimus* Do you think we should get Ratchet to look at him? Ironhide's supposed to be bringing him some things anyway.

Optimus: Yes, I think that's for the best.

Blackwing: *now looking up at the new voices, peeking over Ironhide's hands*

Ironhide: *scowls and insistently pings Ratchet again as he realizes that he didn't get any reply to his last ping. Then looks down and blinks* Dan. What do you want?

Chromia: *slaps him on the skid plate for that*

Lennox: *a bit disappointed* Just got back, man. Came to give you Delinda's newest "culinary masterpiece."

Ratchet: *extra-grumpy* //Yes, what is it?//

Ironhide: *blinks* I'll taste it later, okay? //Ratchet, look at this.// *sends image of the youngster he's holding*

Ratchet: *a pause, and then he sounds surprised and interested* //Where'd that come from? Do you need me to check it?//

Lennox: I had it delivered to your quarters.

Ironhide: *grins at his friend, and then lowers the youngling so that Danny can see him* Thanks. //He followed me home from the Nexus. Jazz says he's a young Maximal.//

Jazz: *tilts his head and smirks sideways at Optimus*

Ratchet: //A Maximal?// *pondering grunt* //Bring him by in about 15 minutes. That new medic is making a mess of my-HEY don't touch that! Slaggit, wrong channe-// *static*

Blackwing: *sitting up straight now, looking around with HUGE purple optics*

Lennox: You know, he's kinda cute. Are those feathers?

Optimus: *is taking the opportunity to catch a glimpse as well*

Ironhide: *scans youngling* Yup. Techno-organic. //Alright.// *rumbles amusement* Ratchet's cussing.

Jazz: Yeah, he does that sometimes. *studying Blackwing with a friendly smile*

Lennox: Usually during inspection time. *smirks at Jazz*

Blackwing: *seems perfectly content to sit quietly and study everything, a small smile on his face*

Optimus: Techno-organic. *rolls the word around his processor* A sub-section of Cybertronians who take alternate modes from local animals instead of machines. I wonder if anyone is looking for him.

Ironhide: *just growled*

Jazz: *slapping his leg and laughing at that*

Optimus: *snerk* Though I suppose I'll have to assign somebot to see to his needs until we find out how to get him home.

Ironhide: *gruffly* I've got him.

Jazz: *has to turn and lean on the wall so he doesn't laugh himself over*

Ironhide: *straightens just enough to kick the CO2 on the rear*

Jazz: *laughs harder*

Lennox: *smiling his head off* He looks like he could fit in our barracks, I'm sure the guys would love to take care of him.

Ironhide: *gives Danny the mother of all stink eyes* I've got him.

Lennox: *trying not to laugh*

Optimus: Chromia, didn't Arcee mention needing a smaller set of servos to clean her quarters? He could stay there...

Chromia: *looks up at the Prime calmly* We've got him.

Jazz: *sliding slowly down the wall in paroxysms of mirth*

Optimus: *sad that nobody ran with his joke* Well then, I guess it's settled.

Lennox: *pats Prime on the leg*

Jazz: //Arcee! Ironhide's a daddy! *wheeeeze*//

Ironhide: *relaxes slightly, and then looks at Danny* Blackwing, this is Uncle Danny.

Jazz: *brb DED*

Lennox: O.o *laughs* Annie's gonna be jealous!

Blackwing: *smiles at Uncle Danny* *small wave*

Arcee: //REALLY?!// *pitch nearly high enough to break glass*

Jazz:*winces, but shows her images of Ironhide and Blackwing in between cackles*

Ironhide: *frowns at Jazz, but then turns back to Danny* Why should she be jealous?

Lennox: *waves back to Blackwing* Now her Uncle Ironhide's too busy to play with her.

Ironhide: I am not. *growls as he says it*

Arcee: *already congratulating Chromia on a separate channel* //How strange!// *notices the laughing* //Wait.... Jazz, if you're joking I swear!//

Jazz: //I... I ain't. It's just... lookit 'im!// *more laughter*

Chromia: *to her sister* //I can't believe this. After so long.// *swipes at her eyes*

Lennox: *smiling* You'll see. This one you can't send home with me. *to Blackwing* Can you talk?

Blackwing: *small nod*

Ironhide: Doesn't mean I won't have time for Annie. *scowls at the thought* She's just got a... what's the word again? *scowwwl*

Chromia: Cousin. *voice is staticky*

Arcee: *to Jazz* //*sniggers*// *to Chromia* //*trying desperately to hide sniggering* I'm so happy for you.//

Chromia: //...Though keeping all that fuzz clean is going to be fun.//

Lennox: *smiling interrupted by a thought* Delinda will want to see 'im... *face, meet palm*

Ironhide: *lifts his head and frowns deeply as he tries to think of how to make that happen* ...She'd have to come here.

Lennox: *groan* Yes, Ironhide.

Optimus: *chuckles to himself* If you'll excuse me, I was in the middle of something. *hand on Chromia's shoulder* If you need anything, let me know.

Chromia: *quietly* We will, Optimus. Thanks. You let Elita know?

Optimus: *nods* I will. I'm sure she'll be by to visit later.

Chromia: *smile* Thanks. *turns to gently step on Jazz because he's now laying on his face on the floor sniggering to himself*

Jazz: *grunts* Hey, 'Mia, sup?

Lennox: *mumbling to himself* Just one week, one week is all I ask... *shuffles off to tell Galloway about the "new recruit"*

Ironhide: I've already made sure the fat aft isn't going to cause trouble. *turns to his mate* Let's get this guy somewhere quiet. *looks down at the youngling in his hands* Are you hungry?

Optimus: *smiles at the group and returns to his office*

Blackwing: *blinks, ponders* ... *nods*

Ironhide: *waits for Chromia to walk along beside him and then heads for their quarters* How do you polish fluff like this...?

Chromia: Shouldn't we bring him to the infirmary first?

Ironhide: *stops and frowns at her, then checks his chrono* It's not time. Ratchet gets #$%&#@y if we don't follow directions.

Blackwing: *busy watching that little bot doing doughnuts down the hall*

Ironhide: *notices the youngling's focus and looks over there* What the #$%&@# are you doing, Jolt?

Jolt: *transforms and bugs out down the hall, cackling*

Ratchet: *storms out, shaking his fist and cursing* You'll be paying for those new tires, you little @$(*%*@#!

Chromia: ... Do I want to know? *staring soberly after the medic in training*

Ratchet: *fume fume*

Blackwing: *hides from the loud bot in Ironhide's safe hands*

Ironhide: //You're scaring the kid.// *growl*

Beachbreak: *wanders out of the infirmary where he must've been passed out under some of the furniture again. Blinks at the new guy, but decides he'll say hi when Ironhide and Ratchet are more cheerful*

Ratchet: //That's why I'm staying on this side of the hallway.// *grumblefume to himself, goes back inside the med bay to start cleaning*

Ironhide: Do you want us in there yet? *glances after retreating Beachbreak and thinks he needs to give him and Bumblebee goodies at the same time, maybe when he introduces them both to Blackwing*

Ratchet: *still a little gruff but getting better* Come on, already. Slag, that kid is worse than both twins combined.

Blackwing: *peeking out, waves after Beachbreak*

Ironhide: *slight grin at the wave. Grin gets wider as Beachbreak turns and returns the wave, then lets Chromia steer him inside the infirmary*

Ratchet: *has cleared off a berth at least, now starting on the cabinets* Come in, come in.

Ironhide: *grumbling about the temperature of Chromia's hands as she pushes him over to the berth* Stop shoving me around, woman. *then meeps as she pokes a finger between his plates*

Blackwing: *staaaaares at all the equipment*

Chromia: *to Blackwing* Don't worry. It's all for making you feel better. *blinks* Except that. Ratchet, were the twins trying to make high grade energon out of gas again? *looking at an odd apparatus of tubes and beakers*

Ratchet: *grumble* Jolt... improved on their method. Still smells like slag...

Ironhide: *stops short and rumbles amusement* You tasted it?

Ratchet: *turns* I said "smells" ... *but he isn't saying no*

Chromia: *knowing chuckle as her mate makes a sound of disgust*

Blackwing: *leans over Ironhide's hands to look at the berth*

Ratchet: *finally distracted from his cleaning* Is that the Maximal?

Chromia: That's him. *quiet as she watches the small TF*

Ironhide: His name's Blackwing. *offers to let the young bot down onto the berth*

Blackwing: *flexes his wings and hops down, turning to look at everything*

Ratchet: *shuffles over, smiling now* Hello, Blackwing. My name is Ratchet.

Ironhide: *will just stand there to one side and hover...*

Chromia: *stands by mate in easy elbowing distance as she watches Ratchet and Blackwing interact*

Blackwing: *smiles at Ratchet, but is quickly distracted by all the tools*

Ratchet: *scanning him* He's a Maximal all right. One of those fuze things, by the look of it. *frowns*

Ironhide: Would it be possible for him to scan another alt mode so he can go outside without Fat Aft having a hen?

Chromia: ...Having a hen?

Ratchet: I'm not sure. He doesn't seem to have any internal mechanisms for altering his outward appearance. *frowns some more, goes to rummage for another scanning device*

Ironhide: *gives Blackwing a concerned look. And then offers him that Swiss Army knife that Fig lost the other day and which he hasn't managed to catch Fig to give it back to him*

Blackwing: *takes the knife and carefully opens each tool*

Ratchet: *returns with an electronic gismo, smacks it a couple times until it whirs to life* I'm told this tech mostly obtains a mixed alt mode from a broken stasis pod. I'm concerned about a reading in his neural circuitry.

Chromia: *looks up sharply* Is something wrong?

Ironhide: *rumbles with concern*

Blackwing: *looks at the unfolded assembly of knives and pointy things, frowns, and holds it out for Ironhide to take away*

Ratchet: *small frown for the new "parents"* I need to get a look under his helm plating to be sure.

Ironhide: *as he takes the knife and closes it all up* Do you need to put him under for that?

Ratchet: *turns back to the youngling with a contemplative hum* I'm not sure... *puts the device down* Let's try this first. Blackwing, can you transform for us?

Blackwing: *nods and folds back into his alt: a lynx body with the head, wings, and back legs of a raven* *stretches with a soft caw*

Chromia: *tilts her head* It's almost a griffin.

Ironhide: *sticks a finger near Blackwing's fur to see how much static is in it*

Blackwing: *rubs against the finger. His fur is fairly well-groomed and not very staticky*

Ratchet: Good! Now change back.

Blackwing: Blackwing, terrorize! *screeches and unfolds again*

Ironhide: o.0 What was the screech for?

Chromia: *soft laughter aimed at mate*

Ratchet: So you do speak! That was going to be my next question. *to Ironhide* I think they all do that. And his basic systems seem to be in order. I didn't detect anything odd, other than that mantra... *turns to his patient* You terrorize things?

Blackwing: *blink blink*

Ironhide: *pokes Jazz over comms* ...That's the code that activates his transformation sequence. ...And it means he's a 'Con? *quirks a brow ridge*

Ratchet: I'm not sure. Why do they say the activation code out loud anyway? Blackwing, are you a Maximal or a Decepticon?

Blackwing: *blinks again, looking thoughtful for several moments before remembering* Predacon.

Ironhide: ...You want to come over to our side? We have cookies. *takes one out to prove it*

Chromia: *face palm*

Blackwing: *perks at the cookie, holds out his hands but has too many manners to snatch it up*

Ratchet: *frowns* I'm not sure he knows which side he's on. Blackwing, can I take a look under your helm?

Ironhide: *hands the cinnaSeeker to the youngling and tells him how best to chew it to get the most of the flavour.

Chromia: *silent frown of worry*

Jazz: *leaning against the door frame now and watching all this through his visor*

Recon: *arm around her mate, enjoying her own sweet thing snagged from Requiem's earlier delivery*

Blackwing: *takes the cookie and nibbles gingerly* *looks to Ratchet with uncertainty*

Ratchet: It won't hurt, I promise.

Ironhide: He's pretty good at keeping promises.

Chromia: *nods*

Blackwing: ...Ok. *holds the cookie in his mouth as he unhooks the crest feathers from his helmet. With a click and a small woosh he takes the whole assembly off, revealing a mass of circuitry underneath*

Ratchet: *gingerly sets the electroprobes on either side of his head* Alright, Blackwing, I'm going to ask you some questions. All you have to do is answer to the best of your ability.

Ironhide: *frowning as he watches*

Chromia: *moves over to where she can put a gentle hand on Blackwing's back without getting in Ratchet's way*

Blackwing: *nods slightly, not wanting to move the probes*

Ratchet: Don't worry, we'll start simple. What's my name?

Blackwing: Ratchet.

Ratchet: Good. And who's this? *jerks head toward the big grouchbot*

Blackwing: *takes a second* Ironhide.

Ironhide: *nods his head. Yup, that's him. Is intent on what's going on*

Ratchet: And you followed Ironhide back from the Nexus, right?

Blackwing: *nibbles* Yes.

Ratchet: Do you know how you got to the Nexus?

Blackwing: *has to think now, staring into space*

Ironhide: *slight frown as he waits, and then scowls and looks over toward Jazz as something the CO2 does beeps*

Jazz: *blinking at his PINpoint, and then looking from it to Blackwing*

Recon: *looks down at the PINpoint, speaking softly so the others can't hear* Vhat is it?

Ratchet: *also scowls at Jazz, but quickly returns to the readout screen, where he frowns some more* Can you remember, Blackwing? You probably entered by a sign...

Blackwing: *squints* ....No.

Ironhide: *frowning as he tunes out Jazz's murmured "shhh" and refocuses on Blackwing* That big bright thing.

Recon: *tries com instead* //Jazz, you should go into ze hall if it vill keep beeping.//

Jazz: *quietly* It jes' beeped once, Connie. Shhh.

Blackwing: There was... a sign. But...

Ratchet: Nothing before? What can you remember?

Blackwing: *squinting some more, cookie forgotten, until suddenly there's a spark from his head!*

Ironhide: *startles at the spark*

Chromia: *looks quickly to Ratchet when she sees the spark*

Ratchet: *hands jump at the spark, and his readout goes haywire* Woah!

Blackwing: *stumbles back, dropping the cookie. Seems much more coherent now* Tarantulus! *fear in his optics as he looks to all the gizmos lining the room, eventually settling his gaze on the Autobots around him* Tarantulus, they're here! G-get out! *slams his helmet back on*

Ironhide: Tarantulus? The bouncer at the Black Dog? *confused*

Chromia: *soothing sounds* Who's here, Blackwing?

Recon: *distracted from her pouting by the commotion*

Blackwing: T-the Maximals! *backs away from Chromia, pulling 2 maces from their rear holsters and charging them* *yells over his shoulder to thin air* I won't let them capture you! Get out! *uncertainty in his optics as he looks back to his "enemies"*

Ironhide: *stares at him, and then looks at Ratchet* They hit him in the head?

Jazz: *face palms at his friend's diagnosis*

Ratchet: *ignoring Ironhide* Blackwing, we're not Maximals. We won't hurt you.

Blackwing: *doesn't seem convinced, is backing toward the rear edge of the berth* D-don't try to confuse me...

Chromia: Careful, this is the edge. *puts up her hands to stop him*

Blackwing: *squawks and jumps over her hands, striking at them with a mace before flying deftly toward a crowded counter for cover*

Ratchet: *growls at Chromia* No sudden movements!

Recon: *subspaces her goodie, ready for catching if necessary*

Chromia: *glances at Ratchet, and then turns her attention back to Blackwing*

Ironhide: Hey... Blackwing still your name?

Jazz: *interested perk at the question. Still has his PINpoint in hand*

Blackwing: *no answer, has disappeared behind the various canisters*

Ratchet: His memory circuits are majorly damaged. That short must have triggered an old memory. Now he's obviously scared, so don't go after him.

Recon: Vhat if he breaks somesing? *scanners on full*

Ironhide: Then Ratchet will #$%&@#&$ and moan. *still watching Blackwing*

Chromia: *sideways Look for mate*

Jazz: She meant on himself, not Ratchet's stuff.

Recon: Um... *hadn't thought about that* Eiser vone.

Blackwing: *from somewhere across the room* You know you're not getting past me...

Ironhide: So fix this, Ratchet.

Ratchet: *grumbles* Do I look like a counselor to you? *turns to the voice* Blackwing, we aren't trying to fight you. We don't even have weapons out for spark's sake!

Ironhide: I meant the damage, glitchhead.

Jazz: *trying to discourage the approach of something that's coming down the hall toward him. Is also trying to keep Recon from noticing said thing*

Ratchet: That requires him to be here, bolts-for-brains.

Blackwing: T-Tarantulus said you'd torture me... if you caught me... *sounding more and more unsure*

Ironhide: I guess smelling a cookie and not eating it's torture. *rude hand gesture to Ratchet*

huge robot dog: *comes right over and sits by Jazz, then looks at Recon*

Jazz: >._.<

Recon: *dog?* O.o Vhat...?

Ratchet: *sneer for Ironhide* We're not like that, kid. Ironaft gave you a cookie, remember?

Blackwing: *peeks out carefully, becoming increasingly confused as the situation deviates from the memory*

Jazz: *guilty grin for his mate* Heh...

dog: *looks into the room and wufs very softly*

Recon: *stern look* //Vhere did sis come from?//

Ratchet: *reassured that he can finally see the kid* See? We're not doing anything. Ironhide, Chromia, say something reassuring.

Ironhide: *picks up the cookie, moving slowly. Then holds it up. Reassuringly* Your cinnaSeeker's still here. And I've got cinnabuns and pizza, too.

Chromia: *chuckles* And there's a lot.

Blackwing: What's... pizza?

Ratchet: Something humans made up, and we Autobots perfected. You can have some if you come out...

Ironhide: You didn't do it, bolts for brains. *checks his glove compartment and takes out a pizza flavour biscuit. Waves this around and blows his cooling fans to share the scent with Blackwing* Smells like that, only better.

Blackwing: *slowly emerges, looking very small and confused as he stares at his maces and the room around him*

dog: *gets up and walks over. Very softly* Aroo?

Jazz: *soft "ack!" as he watches the friendly drone wag its tail*

Ironhide: *turns head and scowls at dog*

Recon: *jumps to herd the dog back into the hallway*

Blackwing: *jerks like a frightened bird to see the commotion*

Ratchet: *growls* Get that thing out of here!

Jazz: *soft chirp*

dog: *had dropped to the floor when Recon approached, but now he gets to his feet and leaves the room*

Ironhide: *glaring at Jazz, but then calms and turns back to Blackwing*

Chromia: *face palm*

Ratchet: *remembers something, turning back to Blackwing* Blackwing, you remember following Ironhide home?

Blackwing: *turns to Ironhide, still a mite scared but listening*

Ironhide: *slight smile, inviting the young bot to answer Ratchet's question. Is still holding Blackwing's cinnaSeeker and the pizza biscuit in his hand*

Blackwing: W-why?

Ratchet: Why would you follow him if he was going to torture you?

Ironhide: *head tilt, is still blowing good smells toward the youngling*

Jazz: You remember what you told us about why ya followed 'Hide? *avoiding eye contact with mate*

Recon: *making sure the drone stays in the hallway, will have WORDS later*

Blackwing: *thinks for a while* He... looked nice.

Jazz: *slow smile at Ironhide's low, embarrassed rumble* Yeah. You don't think that any more?

Blackwing: *wilts, replacing the maces and staring at the counter*

Ratchet: *relaxes*

Ironhide: Can I come over?

Blackwing: *nods slowly*

Ironhide: *walks over carefully and offers the cookie and the biscuit. Figures having this in his system would help any bot feel a bit more able to face anything*

Blackwing: *takes the food but doesn't eat it. Just wants to curl up right now*

Ironhide: *offers the youngster his cupped hands, asking if he'd like to be picked up. Optics calm and steady in his scarred old face, though his friends will be able to tell he's upset and worried for Blackwing*

Blackwing: *steps into the proffered hands and cuddles, more childlike than ever now*

Ratchet: *to Chromia* I'll find a way to do some passive scans later. Let me know if anything else happens?

Chromia: You can't repair him? *looks up at the medic with a frown of concern*

Jazz: *leaning against the door frame again as he watches Ironhide rumble to Blackwing*

Ratchet: *frowns as he puts away the electroprobe device* I still don't know the extent of the damage, or even how his basic systems work. All his tech's compacted and optimized... I'll have to consult an expert first.

Jazz: Rhinox.

Ironhide: *turns his head and frowns at Jazz* Yeah. Probably. He might know who Blackwing is too. But he's //Maximal.//

Jazz: I don't gotta take Blacky with me when I go ask.

Ratchet: I'll come with you. I have far too many questions for an intermediate. Besides, something seems... off.

Recon: *looking up from her doggy-watch spot* "Off"?

Ironhide: I'll take him somewhere quiet. Are you coming, 'Mia?

Chromia: Yeah. Keep your shirt on, old man.

Ironhide: *grumbles at her, and then looks at Ratchet as he catches the tail end of that exchange* *quizzical frown for friend*

Ratchet: If "Predacons" are anything like Decepticons, he doesn't seem... I don't know, vicious enough. Either he hasn't been with them for very long, or... maybe they did something to him. *uncomfortable at the thought*

Recon: *now worried too*

Ironhide: *stink eye for absent Predacons, then turns to bring the youngster to his and Chromia's quarters*

Chromia: *goes with*

dog: *quizzical sound but stays sitting as he watches them walk away*

Jazz: Shhh, Mutt. You got time ta disappear, Ratch?

Ratchet: *watches them go* I will next solar cycle, unless Jolt decides to "clean up" in here again.

Jazz: *nods* Better clear up that still. Then he won't have anythin' ta clean up.

Ratchet: *snort* I'll find it rebuilt in his quarters, unless someone confiscates the materials...

Jazz: *sunny grin as he thinks of setting it up himself and making sweet and thick stuff to drink and get happily hyper off, or to dip cookies in* I can get rid of 'em.

Recon: *snickers* Tell us how to dismantle it safely and ve'll take it off your servos.

Ratchet: *hardy chuckle* Dang, my other plan was siccing Galloway on the brat.

Jazz: Nah, we pretty well got Fat Aft whipped. *grin*

Recon: Speaking of... Vhere exactly did you get sat drone? And how are you going to explain it to Galloway?

Jazz: *blinks at her* I bought the kit in the Nexus, 'n he saw me puttin' it together.

Recon: And how much more energon vill sis suck from reserves?

Jazz: He plugs inta the wall socket. *grin*

Mutt: *pawing at his muzzle, the very image of a bored but obedient dog*

Recon: *optics narrow, but you've won this round, Jazz...*

Ratchet: Ah, anyway. *leans over the still* Turn this off first or it'll explode...


((Written by ssjmihoshi and random_xtras.))