Flashback - Brothers in Arms - Closed

[Deleted]

<<Set in Kaon, some time after 'Metallurgy'>>


Megatronus was holding rallies, writing treatise and recording speeches at every opportunity. The working-caste dissent was gaining traction with Orion's uncredited support; his rhetoric augmented with the archivist's insights on historical precedents, sociopolitical theories and a wealth of irrefutable evidence correlated from hours in the library. More importantly, Megatronus's words were reaching a significantly wider audience on the planet's datanet as Orion covertly posted to feeds inaccessible to someone of the gladiator's caste.

The gladiator was not yet a full time revolutionary, however. He still bore the debt of his life to the Syndicate, a shadowy organisation that owned property, patents and a great many mecha in underground arenas. More practically, he had to pay for fuel and rent in the ghastly communal lodgings afforded the fighters, repairs from the arena medic and transport to and from Iacon on his frequent research visits to see Orion.

Sometimes, and when there were spare credits from a particularly big win (Soundwave had facilitated him betting on himself in matches), Megatronus elected to set aside the heavy mantels of Pit Champion and revolutionary and find a bar. He'd been inviting Orion out to join him as a fair trade for all the time he spent being shown around Iacon, asserting that the archivist was still sheltered for all his research, and experience could not be gained from data-crystals.

Orion would not hear of attending a fight, but to Megatronus's pleasant surprise, he had assented to being taken out for a 'quiet drink'.

The difference between an Iaconian 'quiet drink' and a Kaoni one was marked, but Megatronus had made a point to find one of the quieter establishments after meeting Orion at the transport and walking him through the crowds. The slender mech garnered almost as many stares as Megatronus did in Iacon, and the gladiator wore his field wide and strong to ward off any more intrusive attention.

He'd escorted Orion to The Helix and set him down in the corner of a booth, waving a server over as he settled his own bulk on the opposite side of the table. It was not a bar he'd been to before, but it was familiar in all the right ways: just-too-loud music, poor lighting, scratched floor panels from fighting. No had stared at the gladiator and the archivist, and the server hadn't made any kind of small talk enquiring where Orion was from or what they were out for. He just kept bringing drinks.

And then more drinks.

Megatronus was on his way to running out of credits, but it was entirely worth it.

He regarded Orion through the rising mist of the Black Hole cocktail, a black and purple monstrosity served in a cylindrical bowl. The curly straw had been crushed and set to one side.

"How's the view?" he asked when Orion continued to stare at something over his left shoulder. There was a Hex game taking place and two smelt-workers getting high on Syke - nothing worthy of that much attention. "Did Alpha Trion come in without anyone noticing?"

[Optimus Prime]

This was far outside of his comfort zone.

But it was somewhat difficult to care any longer.

Drinking wasn't really something Orion did. Oh he had done it before, he was not ignorant of its effects, but it had never been something he really sought out. It seemed like there was never really much point to it, at least for him in his current social life. He was not the type to party, and his woes were not great enough to seek highgrade as an escape. Social drinking was difficult, because his analytical thoughts supplied the fact that said funds would be better suited elsewhere than on a type of fuel that would be burnt up and gone within a short period of time. There was also the side effects... the burnt out feeling when it wore off and systems tried to readjust to the normal quality of fuel, though he had never experienced a hard crash hangover after such things... yet...

But Megatronus had been asking and pairing the invitation with the concept that he was too sheltered and inexperienced in the world around him. Orion had issues grasping just how getting highgrade in Kaon would really teach him anything, but eventually he had to relent and know it would give him a better picture on some of the day to day life of many of the individuals there. It was also the polite thing to do, and he did enjoy the gladiators company.

Orion had agreed to step outside his comfort zone and have a drink under the condition of it being a quiet one, which he would soon realize was not really a thing in Kaon unless you took the highgrade to ones quarters. But alas... Orion knew he had to take the plunge into unfamiliar territory, for it was only fair since Megatronus did it on a regular basis to go to Iacon. Orion felt guilty to admit he didn’t see the gladiator going to Iacon as dreadful as him going to Kaon, though it didn’t deter the clerk fully.

Megatronus stood out as a monster in Iacon, he was looked upon as something abnormal, but other than the threat of being hauled away which Orion could disrupt, there wasn't really any large DANGER. However here in this city Orion felt quite the opposite, he stood out as an abnormality, a mouse stepping into the den of lions. It was just something he was getting used to, and it would take a few more trips to Kaon before he truly got emboldened. But emboldened or not, he was still a near freakish abnormality to behold here.

Polished and clean cut armor showed a wealth he never really considered he had until the world around him was so much more downtrodden, his bright contrasting color scheme also drawing attention right away upon entering a sector to highlight this fact. Also slap on the added detail that he was small here, so very tiny compared to most of the laborers and workers who made their means via the strength in their servos and he was almost alien.

It was definitely reassuring having such an daunting figure such as Megatronus' at his side as they traversed, knowing if any did attempt something they would have their intent derailed quickly by the Gladiator. It was upon more than one occasion Orion ended up bumping into his arm while looking elsewhere, just gravitating towards the presence out of wariness. The strong projected field of Megatronus, while almost suffocating with how imposing it was, was an additional comfort, to know that individuals could be deterred early if they intended to try something for what credits he did have on him.

Or for his components...

Orion didn't know if it was pure judgment and brash assumptions trained into him from higher caste's fear of the lower reaches, or if he should be worried because rumors start for a reason. He knew there were records of such things as chop shops and part scavenging, but how much of it was truly COMMON or not remained questionable. He had to understand though he KNEW his own mind was tainted and corrupted some by his caste, and while he was leaps and bounds away from the average Iaconian in his understanding, he still had to overcome some of the hurdles and assumptions that jumped up in his processor.

Upon arrival to the bar, he was apprehensive for some, but also... fascinated... The setting, the individuals, the interactions and how they lived their day to day lives. Orion may have been meek in the crowds and the walk over because of how many there were, but in the more subdued setting he took on a more observational stance, a bit emboldened once more.

He had looked over the surreal environment, how dingy everything was, the colors of iron and stone with coal black trailing along edges and corners. It all clashed as a polar opposite of the ivory and gold he was used to. Everything was worn down, and Orion could have sworn he had seen a dent in the floor that looked like it had been created by a very unfortunate individual's faceplate.

The apprehension though from before, had returned full force when it came to getting a drink, and realizing the weaker quality styles weren't even a thing here, or at least nothing he recognized as such. The data clerk had simply picked something he thought sounded appealing, only to instantly regret it when Megatronus hooked a brow as if surprised he had chosen something so strong.

That was a mistake choice.

Too late to go back now, and he had found himself staring down the metaphorical barrel of death when he realized he truly did order something way out of his league. Not wanting to draw attention, not wanting to be rude, and trying to save face lead to Orion effectively falling right down the hole that was just inebriated enough to not notice how AWFUL the potent concoction was, and too drunk to realize that drinking more would only make everything worse. It was really quite apparent to any that had half a processor that he was just trying to keep up and highgrade wasn't normal for him in the slightest.

Ratchet may be proud of his attempts.

Orion's processor was spinning, and it felt like every time he had a thought, the connectors fired off to an adjacent process instead of the intended one. It made his mind wander away from intended goals, and it also caused his gaze to drift off before he really was consciously aware of the action. This is what happened at this moment, when Megatronus pointed out that he was blankly staring over the Gladiator's shoulder as if there was something there that was occupying his mind.

No... no... he didn't even consciously realize he was doing so.

Orion's gaze pulled back abruptly to Megatronus with a snap to try to be polite and keep focus, his hand clutching onto his highgrade which was somewhere between a neon green and yellow thing he would have normally never drank. He didn't even remember what it was called any longer, but it didn't really matter. All that mattered was the fact it would probably floor him this night since this wasn't his first cup. Maybe it was third?... maybe?

"That guy, no... yes... no-no... He just appears. Nowhere. Then at your shoulder asking philosophical questions. Makes you think. I don't believe he would come here in any means..."

Missing the joke entirely, it went straight over Orion's helm, though he still seemed amused. However just as soon as his attention had been politely steered back to Megatronus, he drifted again from some noise from others, his gaze settling upon the smelt-workers. He would normally never point, at least not openly, but the highgrade rendered such concerns obsolete as Orion's hand raised a bit to point over at them so the Gladiator knew what he was speaking of.

"What is that."

He knew what Syk was, he knew its effects, and how it is recommended to treat those who were overdosing. He knew what it could do to systems, and the damages it could leave behind, but like Megatronus likely knew well, he was book smart and not experienced. He had no clue what the heck those two workers were even doing, because he had never seen it in person. All he knew was that it wasn't a drink and it didn't look like a game exactly so it stood out to him as abnormal.

After he asked the question, he raised his drink nearly up to his mouth, before looking down at it, almost forgetting his question as soon as he asked it in favor of trying to figure out if he should drink or not. After a moment of hindered deliberation, he lifted the glass fully to down a few gulps as if it were standard grade, his sensors long since burned out and blind to the fact it was essentially death in a cup.

[Deleted]

Orion was always so eloquent, so composed in his mannerisms and speech that it caused a purr of suppressed laughter to bubble in Megatronus's chassis. He rubbed a hand across his mouth, and then cringed a little when the archivist downed yet another drink. At this rate, he was going to have to carry the mech back to the transport over one shoulder.

Megatronus leaned sideways until he was resting one shoulder against the wall of the booth, the shiny cushioning flexing beneath the wicked spike of his pauldron. He hooked a finger into the bowl and dragged his Black Hole in front of him.

"The smelters are playing a sort of strategy game where you, basically, solve equations to create a pattern before your opponent does. But it's more complicated than that." He shook his head, dismissing any further explanation. Orion was just the type to want to talk about board games in a bar - though he was likely too far gone to pursue the topic.

More likely, he knew, Orion was asking about what the other mechs nearby were doing. Megatronus couldn't imagine he'd witnessed much by way of illicit substances, nor that he'd particularly understand such activities. But then the archivist could surprise him once again: he was nowhere near as narrow-minded as he'd expected of a sheltered Iaconian.

"The two loaders are huffing Syk," he finally added, flat and simple. Curling his massive hand around the bowl, he poured half the smoking contents into his intakes and fought down a coughing fit when he set the rest back on the table.

Licking the last traces from his lips, Megatronus swirled his finger around the edge of the bowl and flicked the resulting drop of fortified energon into the smoke. Pacing himself. "You don't go out socialising like this with your friends very often, do you? Every time we speak, you are always in the Halls."

[Optimus Prime]

It wasn't that Orion was trying to drink a lot. No. If he was aware on just how much he had consumed in such a short time he probably would have been rather appalled at the waste. But as clever and conservative the archivist was, for how readily he could pick out even the finest of details and repeating patterns in information, he was completely blind to this fact and was becoming confused by it. Perhaps this was why he didn't drink often, because his sense of judgment was not the sharpest tool while inebriated. His calculated strikes in conversation and carefully chosen words, becoming hard bludgeons that luckily hit the right marks the majority of the time.

The mention of the board game did indeed catch his attention, as it sounded like something he recognized and would very much enjoy playing at some point. Strategy games, puzzles, and anything involving trying to use wit and cunning to win via craftiness and the ability of one's processor greatly appealed to him. But that was not what he had been referring to.

Leaning out a bit to be able to see the board game, he confirmed that that was not the goal of his question, settling back down in his seat and easing back against the rest behind him. He was considering voicing this fact, that he had been speaking of another, when Megatronus anticipated it and filled in the gap.

Orion's optics widened some, and his gaze lurch locked down onto the two as if seeing them for the first time ever. With the added context, it became abundantly clear what was going on, and he suddenly was not too sure how he felt about this place. He did not understand why the bartender did not report such things, and that brought up questions on what OTHER illegal activities occur here that simply get shoved aside.

This thought caused him to look down at the table in front of him, observing the scuffs and marks with new focus and consideration. Were some of these caused from simply normal wear, or were they formed out of fights? Claws raking down into material to try to get a grip and pull away from a fight or a bored individual with a blade trying to drunkenly etch something into the unkempt surface. How many of the stains and markings over the environment were birthed from spills in drinks or spills in blood? That was one thing that was tricky with their species, for the stains left by either while fundamentally different, could sometimes look identical without knowing what differences to seek out.

Quietly, Orion's hands retreated from the surface of the slab.

He wanted to state a flat 'That is illegal', but he was aware Megatronus likely knew that well. The data clerk was not so far gone he'd blather out everything that was painfully obvious, simply choosing instead to permit a frown to cross his features. In tandem with this expression, the multiple thin audials folded back a bit, displaying an extra layer of his emotional thought as the smaller secondary pair was crooked up with curiosity.

"This is quite an establishment."

He managed to say this at last, not sure if his hesitancy was apparent or not but not intending to be rude. Either way he said no more, permitting the conversation to transfer past to the next subject at hand, Orion turning his helm away from the table's surface and the others in order to peer back up at Megatronus.

"Friends."

Orion chewed over the word, carefully pronouncing it as if it was some kind of foreign thing to him he did not fully comprehend. Really he just was trying to guide his processor to move away from the gritty unsavory details of the bar.

"Majority of my acquaintances are simply those I work with. A few stand out upon their own. Ratchet and Jazz for one-two..."

He corrected himself, realizing just after that he had said a pair of names instead of one individual.

"I am not much of a drinker, such things deflected. It almost seems... wasteful? But I am not in the halls now. For certain someone believes this will help me. I must admit it is giving me insight."

The sentences clunked out from his mouth somewhat awkwardly, each one punctuated with a rough stop to them. He was trying so hard to still speak clearly and concise, but try as he might he definitely couldn't make them flow into something easier to listen to. Despite this Orion was permitting a bit of a smile to form.

"Interactions tend to be more along lines of checking in. Or debate. Or passing on information-"

A subtle head nod towards Megatronus paired with his last words.

"I enjoy helping. Socialization on this level is new. Being a focus of attention is also new..."

Orion was an observer in a way, he worked in the records, he worked in gathering and cataloging information. He can debate with others, he can have long conversations about the world around him, but the second that it focused down on him, things changed. The observer being observed made him out of his element.

[Deleted]

Megatronus had been exceptionally animated all evening, delighted to have Orion's informal company and keen for the reserved mech to enjoy his time down in Kaon. He'd become more loquacious as the fortified High Grade had saturated his systems, his enthusiasm contagious if the archivist's warming field was any indication.

At Orion's admission, Megatronus leaned across the table and clapped the mech's shoulder. Hard. "Most down here won't ever have seen an Iaconian in the mesh, let alone an elusive archivist. You're a... curiosity."

A thoughtful look, more directed at the newest rabble to arrive through the heavily fortified door, then the gladiator waved for the server to come back.

"Just stay in arm's reach and you'll be fine," he went on, rapping the table with his knuckles. "I'll escort you on the transport back if I must." He snorted a laugh. "Over my shoulder at the rate you're cratering yourself at."

[Optimus Prime]

Surprised alarm flashed through Orion's field when Megatronus' hand clapped down atop his shoulder with a resounding clank and crash. It had startled him, jostling him instantly away from his inner thoughts in order to try to figure out what had happened and what exactly was going wrong. While his eyes were wide, it was definitely in confused alarm more so than any semblance of fear, looking over at the hand a moment later as he realized nothing had gone badly. Another second passed and he realized that the other mech was simply communicating with him still.

Orion settled once he recognized that a bar fight or other nonsense didn’t start and Megatronus wasn't trying to slam him down to the table to be a smaller target, ((despite the near attempt by the mass of the hand whacking down)). As such, he glanced over at the hand, before peering back at the Gladiator's face while he spoke. He pieced through his words carefully, pointedly ignoring the minor sting from the slap on his shoulder.

"This is only my second drink. I cannot be that... that hindered... to require to be manually transported."

His tone and expression showed he truly believed this, and it ended up being some insight into just what Orion was thinking. He was oblivious just how much he had consumed, and was likely wondering how big his drinks actually were. To him the cups almost seemed to never empty, as if there was some individual subspace element in play that just kept it annoyingly full despite his efforts.

There was a pause, as previous words the other mech had said settled in after the fact, and he just started to acknowledge them moments later. It played out easily on his features and ear finials, the small squared off posts crooking at different angles in tandem with his processor chewing over the words. He seemed confused, and then there was some realization, then a bit of reservation before he relaxed.

A bit of a smile peeled back as Orion's hands lifted away from his lap to clutch onto Megatronus' wrist, trying to carefully pry the massive palm off of his shoulder. He didn't find issue with the hand there really, but it gave him something to focus on with his limping processor while he tried to figure out how to correct the other or even if he should. He didn't make eye contact as he spoke, simply focusing on his task.

"While not normal for me to be a spectacle like this, that was not my intent for my words."

Once the hand was lifted up and off of his shoulder, he looked at it with newfound curiosity, made bolder by the high grade. He was not as inclined to find his actions odd as he normally may have, while he observed just how Megatronus' hand was put together. Where the seams were for movement, what style of hinge was apparent for each digit, it was problematic, yet at the same time not that difficult to imagine how this hand has killed in the name of sport and entertainment. That thought was unnerving, and somewhat horrific when contemplated further, and Orion didn't really wish to pursue that line of consideration.

"But no... no, I am not cratered. Despite the drink's strength."

He slipped back into the previous conversation, backpedaling to the familiarity swiftly. His left hand clutched onto the back of Megatronus' own, only for his right to pick up his own glass of the odd sickly green concoction. He then tried to place it in Megatronus' grip, like some kind of very poor thought out puzzle piece.

"Inform me. Is this actually potent or am I betraying my inexperience."

[Deleted]

Megatronus stared at Orion knocking a glass into his hand, very deliberately not closing his fingers about the drink so that the charming spectacle may continue.

"These are," he began slowly, as if hesitantly confessing to some minor crime, "quite lethal. Though I will agree that you have had two drinks. These drinks. Two of these drinks."

And so had he, Megatron admonished himself with a squint. His mesh was starting to feel quite muzzy, and he was a significantly bigger build than Orion. Little wonder the archivist had become fascinated by his hand.

He finally showed mercy and closed one finger about the top of the glass, holding it gently enough that Orion would break his grip should he pull but firm enough that the weight of the drink was secure.

"I wasn't suggesting that you'd be unable to walk," Megatronus went on, leaning forward on his elbows to show his seriousness. "Only that I should see that you get home safely. I would not have you come to any harm when this was my idea."

[Optimus Prime]

For a puzzle piece that should work, it was being particularly stubborn. Orion plunked the glass awkwardly into Megatronus' hand, trying a couple different angles without tilting the cup in some attempt to help get his goal. At least he had enough cognitive thought to know that turning the glass sideways in order to try to get the other to grasp it was a stupid idea.

Orion paused in his attempts however when the other spoke about how lethal the drinks were. It took a moment for his processor to clunk and sluggishly piece together that lethal didn't mean poison but was actually meaning to imply potency. This was a thought that a sober Orion could have pieced together in a mere fraction of a nano-klick, but this was not that mech. Once it sunk in that the drink he had been downing was likely five times past what he should be for his frame type and size, he went back to trying to tap the glass into Megatronus' palm.

Finally the top finger and thumb closed around the vessel and Orion backed off by opening his hands and holding them up in a placating gesture. The drink was his to hold now, not Orion's, and he wasn't planning on taking it back at the moment. Granted that could change later, but for now he abandoned it hastily.

A hazy gaze lifted up from the green glass when things seemed to sober up a moment, bleary optics settling down on Megatronus' features while he spoke of safety and his trek home. Orion thought about the words a moment, his optics drifting to the side a bit while his processor trudged over the more serious topic.

"I do not believe I have much to fear... I think... if you show aphen-app... apprehension when traversing it will draw what you fear to you... make assumptions... rumors... come true."

He started, which contradicted how he was acting before. He did truly believe that all of the rumors and nonsense spouted out about Kaon had to be over inflated hype to promote fear, but that knowledge doesn't mean that one can’t be victim to making the same assumptions. When sober, he had drifted towards the Gladiator for safety, but while drunk further than he has been in ages ((or ever)), he didn't really remember what there was to fear exactly. He forgot that rumors did indeed start for a reason.

"The company is appreciated though, and I will still take it if you insist. Who would I be to decline a companion while travel... travel...ing..."

His smile turned into a light frown, the word 'travel' now sounding weird to him, as if he was saying it completely wrong.

"But if we walk back, what of you finding... er.. what of, how get..."

He pressed the heels of his hands over his optics, rubbing them idly while his elbows plunked down to rest on the table before him. He had a thought, he had something he was trying to say, but it was about as graceful in his wording as a construction mech attempting to dance. After a moment of consideration and piecing his words in his processor, his hands pried away from his optics and he spoke clearly with an artificial edge from his focus.

"You have been drinking too, if you walk me back, how will you make your way home inebriated?"

[Deleted]

Orion was slurring now. It was funny to hear a slurring Iaconian accent, apparently, and Megatronus's mouth split in a toothy grin. He wasn't a mech that smiled often - Terminus used to say it was because he was too busy overthinking everything to enjoy it. Megatronus disagreed. True pleasures were not surface deep, and could only be accessed by mining a little deeper.

Mining. Mine. My-own-ing...

He dragged a hand firmly down his face which served to drag his processor together a little and to wipe the expression off. At this rate, Orion wasn't going to be able to walk let alone be walked back to the transport.

"I'll be fine. It's down to Kaon from Iacon. Gravity'll help," he said, slumping against the metal seat until the edge of his helmet thunked back. "And it wouldn't be the first time I slept in a gutter if it comes to it."

If he fell over and couldn't get up, he meant.

Which was a possibility, given that his legs had just pinged to say they weren't connected. Were. Weren't. He thunked his head back and the error stopped. Primus knew what sort of state his smaller friend was in.

A worrying thought that spurred him to action.

Setting his own drink down, Megatronus reached across the table and capped Orion's drink with his palm. He slid it backwards, away from the archivist.

"Alright: no more for you."

Struck by the notion that Orion might try to swipe back the drink (and that no one here wasted what was paid for), he tossed it back down his intake with nary a pause. It burned and fizzled all the way to his tank, and was hardly pleasant.

[Optimus Prime]

Orion almost had to do a double take to even notice the smile that had briefly crossed Megatronus' features. A smile was not exactly uncommon for him to see on others, and at first he merely saw it for what it was on surface value. Smiles presented by real amusement and happiness or by being just polite... they were commonplace in Iacon even if people forced them. But his processor, despite the highgrade, knew something was WRONG with what he was seeing. Not in a 'this shouldn’t be happening' sort of way, but more in the 'go back and think about this'. When his thoughts caught up, he realized Megatronus wasn't smirking, but had actually smiled.

This just caused his own features to pull back into a half grin of his own, but it was a bit lopsided all things considered. Orion didn't really connect the dots that it was his own blunders in speech that was bringing so much joy to the Gladiator, which was perhaps for the best, as it meant he wouldn't try to swat at the other and assure him that his own speech- well no... Megatronus' speech was still mostly collected. Orion couldn't throw it back at him.

"That isn't- that isn't reassuring."

A clunky reply, hardly as articulated as he was hoping from himself. Orion was in the process of trying to formulate something a bit nicer and more expressing of his thoughts, when Megatronus' continued, and capped off the drink in the center of the table, dragging it back over to him, only to then... throw it back like a shot?

Orion's optics were wide and almost owl like, staring at Megatronus with an air of disbelief and confusion at why he would have done something like that. While the glass wasn't full, it most certainly wasn't near the end of its life, still having enough within it to knock a smaller Cybertronian down. This left the archivist looking confused and at a loss for words, almost watching the other as if he'd spontaneously combust or other nonsense from doing something like that.

Large, over bright blue optics flicked down from the Gladiator's features, to stare at the cups on the table, then look back up at him, then down at the containers again. It wasn't readily apparent what was going through the smaller Iconian's processor, but it clearly had something to do with the bowl Megatronus had been drinking from and the small remainder of high-grade left sitting at its bottom, or maybe the now empty cup of his own that had been stolen. In response, he finally lifted a hand slightly, finger raised in a way to suggest he had a point to make.

"Eugh, urggm... uh..."

And no point came, he mentally struggled and fell over trying to make any sense out of what just happened, only to let the hydraulics in his arm fail and just plunk his forearm back to the table as if he had not even raised it at all. He seemed to forget his temporary aversion to not touching the 'death slab' readily, his processor fluttering along without hitting any real points until he locked down onto a thought finally.

Opting to be a pest, the inebriation making him relaxed enough to even consider this, Orion reached across the table and swiftly hooked two fingers over the edge of the bowl Megatronus' had been drinking out of. He quickly tugged it over the metal slab with a scrape and into his hands, holding its underside with both palms while wrenching it up and away. He made sure his body was twisted far enough to try to keep it out of grab-back range of the much larger mech.

The smile was back, perhaps with more zeal this time, finding a weird enjoyment in this game that was not really a game to begin with but just childish revenge. It was a revenge that would most certainly backfire, as he tipped the container up to finish off the last sip left, only to wrench out a gagging noise in alarmed surprise that nearly had him drool out before clapping a hand over his mouth. His intake constricted hard, as if he had just been fed poison, and he curled forward a bit to try to stifle the churning noise that rattled from his tank. After this he looked back at Megatronus with an alarmed scowl, nearly squawking his words shrilly.

"How are you ALIVE!?"

[Deleted]

The face that Orion made mid-swallow had Megatronus laughing aloud, one fist braced on the table to keep him from doubling over. It was full-frame horror, revulsion and regret he was witnessing, and he'd have taken a dozen image captures had he the means.

When Orion recovered himself enough to speak, Megatronus sat back and shook his head. "You stupid, stupid mech."

The gladiator was built up from a heavy-labour frame, the modifications that his syndicate sponsors had paid for only making him more powerful. His fuel demands were higher, but still well tempered by the extraordinarily efficient systems of a miner. He could, undoubtedly, handle and burn off the extra charge of High Grade concoctions significantly better than the smaller Iaconian mech.

Megatronus suspected that Orion had similar fuel efficiency built into his construct, having heard more than once that his friend had become so engrossed at work that he'd forgotten to refuel and suffered no ill effects for it. That poison he'd downed with so much victorious gusto was quite another matter.

Megatronus sincerely hoped he'd be able to convince Orion to purge in the street before they got to the transport, Iaconian sensibilities be damned. Either way, the archivist wouldn't be thinking any more fondly about that drink in the morning than he was now.

Sliding to the edge of the bench, Megatronus planted his pedes outside the booth and shoved himself up to a somewhat wobbly hunch over the table. "Come along, Orion. Time to get you home."

His own room was closer than just the transport hub, and it would have been easier to steer Orion that way for the night. But the cramped communal block wasn't safe for the mech, and the streets in between there and the hub would be busier -and more dangerous- come the morning.

Best he get Orion to his own home tonight.

Resolved, Megatronus shoved a massive hand between Orion's arm and made to hoick him up to his pedes.

[Optimus Prime]

Orion felt like his intake was going to constrict so tightly it would seal off entirely. His body wanted to reject the fuel, yet somehow was trying to hold it down through pure determined willpower. It was a horrible mix that made his tank churn in angry protest. It already wasn't accustomed to high-grade, and the green fuel was bad enough, but that compound was a few singed wires against a flame compared to the seething smelting pit that was the purple horror of a drink.

The archivist was still reeling over what happened when Megatronus was moving to stand, and he didn't really even comprehend that until he spoke and was reaching out for him. Over bright optics latched down to peer at the presented appendage as if it had magically just appeared out of nowhere with a look of complete confusion. This only lasted a moment before he started to get drug out of the booth and up to his feet.

Orion's lower legs were not exactly the sleekest of design, and the boxy weighted peds and shins caused his legs to drag and scrape momentarily across the ground as he was picked up. Their pure mass however meant they plunked down solidly upon the ground once he was dropped upon them, peds resting flat and seemingly solid. While he wavered a bit, and his knees were bent, he appeared to be rather stable despite his processor spinning at a rate that he couldn't even imagine properly.

"You never... never answered-"

He started to say this clumsily, trying so hard to right his processor again. It was a futile battle though, as the purple abomination of a drink was taking hold and was strangling all life out of whatever meager grasps of reality he had once held dear. Standing up didn't help either. He wobbled because of this, and went to take a step forward to aid Megatronus.

"-never answered my ques-"

His intent was to walk forward some so that he didn’t have to be drug out of the bar. Orion wanted to retain some dignity on that front, even if he no longer grasped the reason as to WHY it was important. He understood that going completely ragdoll would be a burden and would make him look the fool. But... this goal of minor dignity was not one that would come true, as his foot placed down at an improper angle, and it caused his knee to buckle to the side violently. Who would have thought that putting all of your body weight upon a limb that was unstable would be a mistake?

Oh that’s right...

Common sense...

In a surprising act of swiftness and agility, Orion's hands snapped up to clutch onto Megatronus' chest as fast as possible, trying to grapple for anything solid that would keep him from hitting the ground like a sack of bricks. His words he had been saying were now spat out into a surprised noise that was mostly strangled. There was no yelp from being startled, just a throttled sound and clank of his frame trying to collapse.

[Deleted]

Megatronus watched as Orion fell towards him in slow motion, tracking the motion blurr with a fuzzy sort of interest in how the red and blue streaks smeared into purple and finally black against the dark setting of the bar. Then the smear were gone and he was looking up at some rather dubious stains on the ceiling. There was a thin ringing up and down his backstrut and helmet, which helped him to confirm that he was, in fact, horizontal on the floor.

Somewhere in between this horizontal-ness and admiring the distortion in his visual relay caused by Orion's speed and his overcharged processor, he had been overbalanced by the mech against his chest and staggered back a step before tripping over a wayward bar stool.

Usually those things were bolted down for exactly this reason. That and their potential for being used as projectiles, shields and broken apart to create multiple sharp implements. But tripping hazard was absolutely in there somewhere.

Megatronus had lost Orion. The archivist was not anywhere to be seen. He patted his hands about to identify the weight on his body and located a familiarly shaped helm around the region of his abdomen.

Ah. Well, then.

Starting to push himself up onto his elbows, utterly uncaring in this state about anyone watching them on the floor, Megatronus look down at the pointy finials. On a whim, he tapped the top of one with his fingertip.

"You're on the floor." Cracking the cables in his neck, Megatronus swallowed and tried for something a bit more constructive to say. "Who won?"

[Optimus Prime]

The world wasn't supposed to move like this. It was meant to remain stationary, and if it did tremble or shake, than something geological was occurring or something big had happened a few blocks away. But even then... even in those situations, the trembled rumble didn't even slightly compete to the swirling wave that tilted reality back and forth at this moment. It swayed abnormally with an odd smoothness to the motions, despite perspective spinning and changing to a new orientation.

Orion was sprawled out, not even really recalling how he got from point A to point B. He remembered stumbling; floundering to try to catch onto something for balance, but it had evidently failed him. He was lying face down on something, but didn't have a clue what it could be momentarily until it spoke at him, but even then it didn't fully click.

"...Gravity"

The Archivist croaked this single word out in response, for the true victor here was neither Megatronus nor himself. He honestly didn't even remember the context to the question fully anyway, and figured that word would serve enough. The ear finial that had been poked didn't really move or react right away, but in a delayed motion did end up flicking back as if shying away from being touched.

Blearily, blue optics opened, having realized in a postponed consideration that they had closed during his decent to the floor. He expected to see said flooring below, and to get a nice horrible view of the dark concrete stained in a thick film of gore and filth that he'd have to claw at his plating to remove proper... instead? He saw silver and got a visual confirmation on what his sluggish processor already figured out.

Orion's features contorted a bit, rather taken aback to find out where his friend had ended up, and how he was now draped over his lower limbs and torso in a tangled mess. This situation normally would have made him fly into apologies and stand up, since it was a terrible breach of personal space, but... Orion was frankly too drunk.

The effort needed to formulate such commentary, and the coordination required to even try to stand was near impossible. Sitting down he had been fine, he had been rooted in a way. He did display outwardly that he was drunk, but he had enough structure to not give out entirely. Standing had ruined it. It caused the pumps in his system to change circulation to fuel his leg's movement. And it just robbed him of everything he tried to hold onto.

With a hard 'twump', his helm dropped back against the gladiator's armor, giving up and accepting the situation with a complacency only high grade could offer him. Paired with this was a low grumbled noise, as if he was trying to complain or talk, but it was all blotted out due to the way his face was smashed against the other mech's abdomen.

Yeah... that purple high-grade was a mistake...