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((We all know the drill by now. Rachel gets dragged into the Nexus, yells a little, cries, and gets a hug.))
( 'Tell me the whole idea isn't just... playing favorites.' )
( 'Tell me the whole idea isn't just... playing favorites.' )
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Nexus. Black Dog. Wrong turn.
January 24th, 2011 01:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
It's a sunny day in this part of the Nexus. So much so that there's a white and black mech stretched out on the front steps of the Black Dog, his blue optic visor barely letting out any light as he blissfully enjoys the sunrays on his shell. Draped across one of his legs is a black Transformer that looks a bit like a jaguar. The cat-like bot is just as insensate as his living couch.
Past the steps, which have a smaller set running up the side of them for human size-range beings, is a shaded porch, where assorted Transformers lean against the wall or the railing and talk in a mixture of English and different electronic dialects. To one side of the entrance is a bench, and seated here are a couple of tall mechs who look like they could be different versions of the same person with their red and blue colour scheme. The two are talking quietly, the one wearing flames' voice a deep, quiet rumble whereas the shorter one with the big chin and the armor that covers more of his wiring sounds younger.
The inside of the bar is a mystery of shadow, talk, and music, and there's a massive black Malamute with bright blue eyes and neat white paws sitting in the doorway.
Past the steps, which have a smaller set running up the side of them for human size-range beings, is a shaded porch, where assorted Transformers lean against the wall or the railing and talk in a mixture of English and different electronic dialects. To one side of the entrance is a bench, and seated here are a couple of tall mechs who look like they could be different versions of the same person with their red and blue colour scheme. The two are talking quietly, the one wearing flames' voice a deep, quiet rumble whereas the shorter one with the big chin and the armor that covers more of his wiring sounds younger.
The inside of the bar is a mystery of shadow, talk, and music, and there's a massive black Malamute with bright blue eyes and neat white paws sitting in the doorway.
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A flash of a PINPoint, and a Blitzwing appeared in the Nexus, holding the device in his hand, as the one on his arm was still damaged. He sighed for a moment, calming himself and trying to mask the worry he felt as he went inside. First looking around to see if the object of his search was here and not seeing him, Blitzwing went up to the bar. "Pardon me, but has Scattor been in lately?" he asks.
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...with a talking tiger cub supported by one arm and an eeny tiny 'bot cradled in the other. He's moving in about the way that your average medical Bot would if attempting to carry a human infant: that is, very very very carefully and with a slight look of "eek" on his face. "Hang in there, little guy. If anything, we can get you fed here."
"Wooooooow, there are lots and lots of robots here!" Junior wiggles with excitement, voice gleeful. "That's so awesome!"
"This is a Cybertronian bar, Junior. Around here we're like Hobbits at that Human inn. Now remember your promise. No getting underfoot. You gotta stay near me."
"Uhkay."
Daimon is careful to stay out of the path of the larger patrons as he looks around for someone he knows.
"Wooooooow, there are lots and lots of robots here!" Junior wiggles with excitement, voice gleeful. "That's so awesome!"
"This is a Cybertronian bar, Junior. Around here we're like Hobbits at that Human inn. Now remember your promise. No getting underfoot. You gotta stay near me."
"Uhkay."
Daimon is careful to stay out of the path of the larger patrons as he looks around for someone he knows.
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((from here.))
"It says here that young things need shelter.... Bet, go and find us a shelter that we can legally take."
She ignores the drone's acknowledgment as she continues to scan data, absently guiding Archiva toward useful information as she does so.
Pooka clicks slightly and wriggles, and she rubs his back gently, trying some of the small clicks herself.
"It says here that young things need shelter.... Bet, go and find us a shelter that we can legally take."
She ignores the drone's acknowledgment as she continues to scan data, absently guiding Archiva toward useful information as she does so.
Pooka clicks slightly and wriggles, and she rubs his back gently, trying some of the small clicks herself.
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