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

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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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Ironhide reaches over and retrieves the singing drink, then sets it between himself and his own drink before lifting the latter for another sip as he too watches the newcomer.

Mentally, he's trying to match the silver and blue mech with a drink.

[sole-captain.livejournal.com]

"The rules around here are simple," Armorhide says, leveling a hard stare at Nightscream and Stormcloud as they turn varying degrees of scowl his way. "If you want to stay on this mission, you follow them. And that means you don't fight each other. The Linkage knows we're getting enough slag from outside."

Which fact is one reason he's in such a bad mood. He'd be determined not to let it affect his dealings with his co-workers, if they weren't giving him so much opportunity to vent it.

"I didn't even do anything," Nightscream mutters, though he gives a sullen shrug when Armorhide looks his way. Stormcloud eyes the changed odds and turns away with an indifferent noise.

Armorhide vents air in annoyance and turns back to the stockpile of energon. It's only now he really has a chance to take in how much there is.

"So," he says slowly, after a second of staring, "before you were trying to scrap each other, I'm guessing... you stole a refinery?"

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"It was being given away." Ironhide slips Nightscream what's left of his drink, then pulls over a cube of blue and starts to mix things into it. He knows what Armorhide needs now.

[sole-captain.livejournal.com]

Nightscream perks up only a microscopic shade at the return of the drink, but he does give Ironhide a momentary thumbs-up of appreciation.

Armorhide looks at the black Autobot with raised optic ridges, then gives another pointed look at the sheer quantity of energon there. "What's wrong with it?"

There's a hint of amusement in his voice, so that might be a joke. On the other hand, considering the other Minicons in the room and how little he knows about 'Joe', Armorhide has reason to be genuinely concerned here. A mob of brewers with flamethrowers would just about round out his day.

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"It's a little strong." He burps and frowns at it, then adds a liberal serving of carbon to the cube he's mixing and pushes it toward the blue and silver mech. "Have a Soother."

The drink is rich, smooth, and sweet. Honest and refreshing. Ironhide figures it will help Armorhide relax.

[sole-captain.livejournal.com]

Armorhide gives him an enquiring look, then picks it up and tries it out. He mulls the flavour over appreciatively for a few seconds before he lowers the cube from his mouth (he's the only Minicon on the team to have one). "That's funny," he comments. "It doesn't taste half bad to me."

Nightscream smirks, sensing a convert. Stormcloud is looking for that drink he left lying around here. He definitely remembers a cube that was still half-full - ah, frag it, he'll just pick a new one.

Meanwhile Waterlog realises that the energon in his cube has sunk below his elbow-level. He peers under his arm at it with a frown, this development evoking great consternation.

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Ironhide just rumbles at Armorhide amiably, then starts mixing a singing drink in one of the full-sized cubes. He doesn't want to drink it, but he figures someone will.

And somebody just bumped what's left of the fizzy drink that he'd first made for Nightscream, and it's trying to fuzz right out of its cube.

[sole-captain.livejournal.com]

Armorhide sips his drink and watches the mixing of the new drink with interest - though for different reasons to Nightscream, who's circled a little closer to the Autobot-cum-bartender. Different reasons, because he's guessing what the compounds involved are and running through the chemical equations that should result in his processor. It's a good distraction exercise... especially with the energon running warm and sweet down his fuel line.

Stormcloud is the first to notice that there's a drink going critical. After glancing around to see if anyone else has seen it, he carefully swipes a bit of foam, looking to see if a transfer to Armorhide's head is viable...