randomplaces | Armada 'verse. Team headquarters in Cyber City. Morale building exercise

Ironhide appears in the room where he and his sister have been taking their recharge since they arrived here, and looks around carefully to make sure that he's reached the right place this time. He'd intended a quick trip to the Nexus, just to see if he couldn't catch some word of Bumblebee. But instead he'd wound up in another, smaller nexus lined with lockers and littered with human clothing. One of the rooms of this place had been stacked to the ceiling with energon.

There was blue energon there. There was green.

Ironhide's arms are full, and he walks carefully as he goes to the empty common room and arranges his armload neatly on the table before vanishing and reappearing with more. This also arranged to his liking, he grabs a cube of the green and walks out the front door to trade for the last thing that every perfect drinking party needs. It takes a little while to find a mech who has what he wants, but if he still had emotions Ironhide would be very pleased as he returns to the laden table with packets of various-coloured minerals in one hand. He hasn't had this much energon additives since before he'd first left his native Cybertron. And the person he'd traded them from seemed to think they were paint pigments!

Rumbling, he settles down and mixes careful doses of several different powders into a cube of blue, then sips appreciatively as he waits for some of his new teammates to show up.

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Stormcloud's optic visor flickers as the noise rolls around him. For a click he's left squinting at Ironhide and trying to work out if he heard the old Autobot right. "Hey! Easy on the audios!"

"Keep sounding off like that and ye'll attract something," Waterlog says to both of them, a low and relatively pleasant gurgle to his voice. He doesn't know how right he is.

The source of the thunder only shrugs and gives his newest cube the attention it deserves.

"Slagging great at conversation, aren't you?" Stormcloud remembers his own neglected drink and goes back to it. Whatever lingering questions he might have about its provenance, they're forgotten for now. He drinks for half a minute in silence, then turns back to Ironhide. "Let's see if you can answer this one. What's behind the happy-fun sharing hour?"

Waterlog stops drinking and cocks his head at his brother. Up until now he was satisfied with 'Autobots be soft like that'. But Stormcloud's always been that bit cannier...

Ironhide frowns down at the smaller mech, then actually lowers his cube a little to reply.

"What?"

There's a touch of triumph in the snort Stormcloud gives. "Everyone knows your buddy Ironhide doesn't like us, and you've got no reason to either, Autobot. So why spread the high-grade around?"

"Ah." He rumbles and resumes drinking, then lowers the cube. "Why not?"

"He told you that," says Waterlog. Thinking about it, his shipmate's right. "There's no love spared between our crews."

The other Sea Minicon jerks his head in a nod. "Yeah, and I'm not going to play happy team-mates when there isn't a fragging surgehead stupid enough to buy it."

Ironhide shrugs. "I've drunk with mechs who wanted me for spare parts, and I've drunk with the mech that deactivated my mate and the new spark she was building. Shut up and drink the slagging energon."

Stormcloud's shoulders jerk back, his optics flashing yellow in surprise - and success. He takes the point and returns to his drink with renewed interest.

A sudden crash upstairs gets both Minicons' attention, though it's too small to be another Bulk. In fact, Ironhide might be able to see that Nightscream has just fallen in through a window.

That's through an upstairs window, yes.

Armada 'verse. Team headquarters in Cyber City. Morale building exercise

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