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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"What about you?" repeats the old Autobot, as he sends images of Stormcloud and Waterlog to Ironhide.

"What, history or hobbies?"

Ironhide takes a couple of seconds to respond. //...What'd you feed them?// True, Waterlog's still on his feet, but he's far more unbalanced by the weight of his leaning team-mate than he should be.

And there's a clatter from the outer door which indicates Nightscream's return. He's not alone, though.

"Which ever." He sends his sister images of each drink Stormcloud's had, along with a list of what was in them. "Oceanglide's back."

Armorhide's considering his answer when Ironhide makes that announcement. He turns to look at the door. "He was out?"

The answer is plain to see, though, as Nightscream comes in with an armful of the pink mid-grade, Oceanglide just behind him with two or three extra cubes. "We're back!" he declares, coming over to dump the cubes in front of the Autobot.

"There was a bit of trouble negotiating the exchange..." Oceanglide mentions, adding his cubes to the pile.

"Yeah, Oceanglide helped." Nightscream smirks. "And he did it without shooting anyone, too."

Oceanglide eyes the black Minicon for a second, and then apparently decides to go with it. "It's a miracle, I know."

//...Try not to have him explode before we get back. I'd kinda like to see that.//

Ironhide sends an affirmative to his sister, feeling that he should be amused by her words but unable at the moment to remember what amusement is.

Instead he scans the mid-grade and starts mixing one of the cubes to make bitter red. "Thank you."

Oceanglide nods at him, mildly surprised. But his gaze strays almost immediately to his team-mates. Waterlog gives a huff of his intakes as the captain strides over.

"Where'd you go?" Armorhide asks, watching Ironhide mix the drink with a grin of approval.

Oceanglide looks over his shoulder. "I felt the need for some air... and sunlight."

"Sunlight makes for easy targets," mutters Ironhide, then slides the bitter red to Armorhide before having a swig of his Chromia and starting a batch of mid-grade soother. "Do you want a drink, Oceanglide."

There's still some of the big cube of singer left, if Nightscream's thirsty, and the 'thank you' was for him as well.

"Cheers," Armorhide catches the cube and tries it out.

Oceanglide almost seems to smile at the Autobot, missing the frown Waterlog is giving him. "I've been recharging all day," he says, tapping one solar panel.

"It's really good energon," Nightscream assures him. Apparently he feels more charitable towards Oceanglide than his team-mates, although it doesn't hurt that his audios are leading him to that cube of singer...

The Sea Minicon relents. "So I see... perhaps one, then."

The bitter red is probably different from what the blue and silver mech remembers, but close enough to be pleasing. Ironhide watches him for a moment, then resumes his mixing.

"Soother," he asks Oceanglide, indicating the mid-grade batch he's whipped up.

"Yes, please." Oceanglide turns his attention back to his team-mates. "I'll be over for it in a moment. What did you let him drink, Waterlog...?"

"Ahh, that brings back memories," Armorhide says happily, lowering his cube.

Ironhide pours some of the soother into one of the stone cups and sets it on the side of the table nearest Oceanglide, then decides that the rest of the batch will do for both his sister and for Cliffjumper.

"Good." It's meant to be a question as he lifts his Chromia and looks at Armorhide over it's flashes and bangs.

"I'll say." Armorhide grins and keeps drinking. "It's not quite what I used to drink-"

"You mean it's not fossilised?" Nightscream butts in, from where he's helping himself to singer.

Armorhide blinks at him, then snerks. "Unless you're some special case, you're no younger than I am. We're all the same age, dolt."

"What needs adjusting?" Ironhide blinks as his own drinks blows up in his face, then absently pats the cube as he once patted the lady it's named for.

"Hard to say." Armorhide winks. "I need to conduct further tests."

Oceanglide jerks and turns at the explosion, then shakes his head as Waterlog chuckles at him. He exchanges a few more words with his crew, then returns to pick up the waiting drink.

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

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