Ep. 1.5 - Dare to Be Stupid (Open)

[Carbine]

Bla bla bla... yabba yadda... do de do... blab blab....

Carbine blankly looked out at Optimus as the larger mech relayed what he had to say on the requests, only half listening to them. It was apparent that neither of their tactics were really making any headway. Thunder's attempts were thwarted by a pair of examples of when Optimus definitely would have had to put his all into a fight, and Carbine's own attempts were completely ignored, which was terribly RUDE if Carbine could say so himself.

The cop-mech had to consider then what was occurring, and what tactic would be best. He could stick to his guns and keep trying to put validity into his words, try to fight for Thunder to get some more experience brawling a truly skilled individual, or he could try to change tactics for a new angle to slap the Prime upside the head with.

He was just starting to narrow down on what he was going to do, going so far as to raise his hands up somewhat and lace his fingers together. The pose was almost pleading in away, the white near claw like fingertips weaving together and held before his spark. His unseen maw parted, about to say something, when the Prime just... turned away and snubbed them both to try to leave.

A single yellow optic twitched a bit, as he didn't particularly enjoy being snubbed. It wouldn't instill rage, he wouldn't be upset, he knew deep in his spark it was probably the right thing to do, but it was still bothersome. There was a moment in which Carbine's remaining lips pressed together into a thin line, and the glow of his optics narrowed tightly into glaring thin slits. He respected Optimus, as he would any leader he had to serve under. He would follow the mech into battle, and he would fight for what he demanded, but that didn't mean one had to be an obedient little dog at their beck and call correct? He could still have some fun...?

Swiftly, once Optimus was turned around fully, and before Thunder could do much of anything, Carbine leaned over and snatched the half empty cube from the nearby table. The action was almost in slow motion, as if time itself was aghast at what the convict was about to do. He reeled back, and hurled the cube forward, the translucent plastic like material spiraling in the air and half depositing its contents as it went, creating a smear of bright blue in its wake that danced through the air in droplets. In the fraction of a second it was leaving his fingertips, Carbine made a horrified sound, absolutely appalled at something, before yelling out.

"T?hu?nd?e?r? no?!"


Carbine YES...

[Deleted]

From time to time, when his stubborn streak finally gave in and yielded to reason, Thundercloud knew when to leave well enough alone. Optimus was making it very clear that he had absolutely no interest in sparring with him, which was a little disappointing but not at all surprising. He had known from the moment he made the proposition that it was a ridiculous offer, one that had a snowball’s chance in hell of actually being considered.

It was worth a shot, at least, but he knew better than to try to push the issue. After Optimus shot him down Thundercloud rolled back, accepting the mech’s refusal with a shrug.

“Eh, maybe some other ti--”

He never got the chance to finish this thought, as shortly after he first began to speak, Carbine’s voice boomed out over his, drowning out his words with a shrill cry that came out of absolutely nowhere. For a moment Thundercloud was baffled, unsure what possessed the mech to blurt out those particular words. Then he saw the opened cube soaring through the air, and everything clicked. His confusion quickly shifted into shock and horror as he watched, wide-eyed and bolted to the spot, as the cube soared through the air---directly towards the Prime’s turned back.

Time screeched to a halt, while his mind simply screeched. He watched helplessly as the cube’s contents sloshed about, a wave of blue arcing inside the clear plexiglass container before crashing in on itself, the process repeating as the entire vessel tumbled through the air on its way to Optimus.

The impact was expected, unavoidable, but it still made Thundercloud flinch and take a step backwards, as if the cube splattering across Optimus’ shoulders would somehow trigger a violent explosion which would consume everything within a 10 mile radius in a torrent of fire.

The cube clattered to the floor, the sound deafeningly loud to Thundercloud’s stunned audios. He stared unblinkingly at Optimus, his frame still and rigid in contrast to his slacked jaw.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned his head to look at Carbine, his optics wide with shock and incredulity, as if by simply staring at the mech he could convey the hundreds of questions he lacked the voice to ask, most of which could be summed up with a single hard Why?

Why would you do that.

[Optimus Prime]

((C-c-combo post))

The Prime was intent to leave. He was done here. There was nothing more to be had in conversation, and it appeared that the duo's antics were wound down enough there was no threat to anything in the base other than to Thunder's own tongue. It was because of this his worries were cast aside, and he disengaged entirely from the situation, turning away, moving to leave, until Carbine's voice called out in frantic distress, making it seem that he had counted on Thunder behaving just a bit prematurely.

He only managed to barely turn, a faint twist of his frame to try to look back and see what on this planet they possibly had done now, but of course it was too slow. There really wasn't time to properly formulate a response and reaction to avoid it, as all he saw was a flick of blue from the corner of his optic, before the cube collided with his shoulder, splattering Energon up the slope and causing it to flick and spackle on his upper arm, and even some across his face.

For a moment there really wasn't much of Optimus even present. His features looked so confused and caught off guard, the confident and bold leader dissolved away. For those who had known him for long, they would recognize a very decisive amount of Orion there, as he was completely disarmed. He ended up lifting his forearm gradually to look at the blue trickling across the slick armor, only to smear his fingertips on his faceplate and look to confirm that yes... yes the Energon got everywhere. After this confirmation, he lifted his gaze and peered back at the two, the innocent confusion swiftly starting to melt away.


Carbine meanwhile was playing his role as perfect as he could, considering he realized maybe a fraction of a moment after the cube left his fingers, what a horrible mistake he had made. This was the Prime, this was their leader. This wasn't some half baked little general who probably only got their rank because of good publicity, someone who deserved to be ridiculed. Nope. He had let himself get wrapped up in the moment, and now it was going to be a tug of war to see who between them was going to be blamed for this.

The helicopter mech looked up at Thunder with very real distress and horror, making him go toe to toe with Thunder's own alarm. This made both of them look particularly appalled at the other's perceived actions, and in a game of bluffing? Carbine would do everything in his power to not take the fall for this slip of the hand. Thunder would eventually forgive him... someday...

"Why would y?ou ?d?o? ?t?h?a?t? ?Thu?nder?!?"

He squawked, shooting a hand out to motion at Optimus as if he was more of a thing than a mech that was trying to get bearings on the affront against him. Carbine's hand was even shaking some, playing into the emotional rollercoaster of the moment. Making Thunder look that much 'calmer' could paint him as someone that'd actually consider such an action was acceptable.

"H?e's? our? Prime!"


By this point Optimus' optics had an edge to it that could possibly border on venomous, before he eased upright and permitted his hand to lower back to his side, flattened fingers curling into a fist. He swiftly started to try to do damage control in his raging processor, trying to quell the emotional whiplash between rage and hurt. He had always lead out of the archetype of being an inspiration, trying to be someone to look up to, and he hadn't really experienced much direct disrespect in such a way as far as he could recall offhand. It was a new type of wound, and he just had to zero-in on who was to blame.

They both looked appalled, they both looked stressed, and they both had an air of distress that would pair well with the innocent party. If given a few moments, he probably would have been able to figure out who was the culprit easily, and act accordingly, but lucky for him he got some of that processor time cut off due to Red Alert chiming in and asking him how he felt Carbine should be punished though private comms.

Once he had confirmation on who was the one to do such a thing, Optimus turned fully about, and took a few strides forward, speaking in a neutral tone of restrained calm that under the circumstances, could appear far more terrifying than intended. He throttled and subdued his emotions, choking Orion back into submission to kill off anything that could influence his responses.

"Respect for one's own being creates morals, while respect for another creates manners. I do not ask to be treated differently than others, but I demand to be given dignity that I feel I have earned through millennia."

It wasn't often Optimus declared to be treated in a certain way, in fact it was quite rare. People tended to look upon a Prime as the figurehead they were, and act accordingly. They were often too formal, or too polite, or at times just robotic and fearful as if he was some powerful hand of judgment. He didn't often have to address being disrespected like this.

"You may find such actions acceptable in previous holdings against higher authority, but they will not be tolerated here. You cannot act upon whim to your peers and superiors in such ways to indulge your detestable humor."

His shoulders pulled back, a powerful stance with his helm held high. Even though he and Thunder were the same height, and Carbine was only a bit shorter, Optimus' stance alone almost seemed to make him loom with the imposing power that only an icon could harbor. His field didn't hold an emotion tied to it, but it almost hummed in sheer presence alone.

"The Energon wasted will be cut from your rations for this day, and you are to clean all evidence of this incident ever occurring from this room. Upon completion of said task, you are to continue, room by room, until the entirety of the Omega Outpost is spotless from ground to ceiling. This includes lower levels and refineries."

The lower floors were... not pleasant... they were unfinished, seldom touched areas, that only had a few notable places ever visited. It included where Energon was refined, as well as the pumps for water, and some longer term storage.

"I do not see this request causing any issue?"

His voice was calmer than it was when it first started, returning back to the Optimus that was often there and pulling away from the emotionally dead tone. While what he said was a question, there really wasn't any way to answer properly besides anything akin to a 'no'.

[Deleted]

It was times like these that Thundercloud had to stop and wonder why it was he still considered himself to be Carbine’s friend. This was not at all the first time the ex-cop had pulled something like this on him, so he really should not have been as surprised as he was - and yet, he still found himself stunned into silence by the other mech’s actions.

He chalked it up to the fact that, of all the ballsy moves Carbine had pulled in the past, whipping an open energon container at the goddamn Prime blew most of his other mean-spirited shenanigans out of the water. Both in terms of sheer audacity, and the likelihood of said shenanigans resulting in someone getting a boot shoved so far up their tailpipe they’d lose teeth.

Now, consciously, Thundercloud knew (in theory) that Optimus was a calm, level-headed, civil mech who had a weird thing for mercy and forgiveness and yada yada yada. Subconsciously, however, he recognized that Optimus was also a very big mech with a very powerful artifact of mysterious design inside his chest which, according to hearsay, made him a hell of a lot stronger than he looked. Generally speaking, Thundercloud tended to trust his gut over his rational mind, as the latter tended to want things like “evidence” and “time to draw logical conclusions” which were luxuries Thundercloud didn’t always have when he found himself in situations where there was a very limited window of time in which to act or face grievous bodily arm.

Not that he dismissed all context clues entirely, mind you. Sizing mecha up and making split-second judgements as to what their mood might have been was second nature to him, and he didn’t immediately jump to the conclusion that Optimus was about to lose his slag on him - he was pushed to that conclusion by the sight of the mech clenching his hand into a fist.

The Prime’s hand, coupled with his posture and his tone, were really the only signs Thundercloud felt were necessary to confirm that things were about to get severely unpleasant.

In preparation, Thundercloud forced his body to relax, particularly his neck and shoulders which would need to roll with the punch he just knew was coming, and quietly planned to haunt Carbine from beyond the scrapheap as he stood there and awaited his impending murder.

Instead of knocking what was left of his brains around with a sucker-punch to the temple, however, all Optimus did once he turned to face them was...talk. And not to him, but to Carbine, as if he somehow discerned who the true culprit was by some miracle of divine justice.

Somehow, this did not relieve Thundercloud much. He cast a shifty glance over at Carbine, looking between him and the Prime as the latter of the two laid down the law in that “I’m not mad just disappointed” tone which was the polite mecha’s way of pretending they were above being rightfully pissed at someone for being a thorn in their side. He couldn’t help but drag a hand over the back of his helm, nervous energy compelling him to do something with his hands that wasn’t punching for once. The Prime wasn’t looking for a response out of him, and he wasn’t about to speak out of turn when the mech was torqued off.

[Carbine]

Crap crap crap.

He was dead.

Carbine watched Optimus with a wide deer-in-the-headlights sort of look as his field had sucked back against his frame so tightly it became a dead cold line of anxious energy. While Thunder had known enough to try to go ragdoll in the neck and shoulders in order to not snap something with an oncoming punch, Carbine went ridged and froze despite also having the same knowledge, locking up into something akin of a statue. If Optimus was a physically violent mech, Carbine would have been in more trouble.

Thankfully no swinging punch came, no jab, no action of physical violence. Instead it was just a verbal scolding, though 'scolding' was an awfully kind means of putting it all things considered. The Prime's words seemed to find a way to claw and shred at his withered concept of guilt, drawing out more regret that started to leak into his field like he had just kicked Bolo to the ground and the dog had given him a particularly sad look. Granted, Optimus wasn't a kicked dog... just... the regret was equally as pointed.

The ex-cop curled into himself a bit, managing to croak out an 'Affirmative' with very little static in the word ((which was impressive all things considered)). It also was an action reverting Carbine back to his police roots. He didn’t say 'yes' and he didn't say 'definitely' or any other twist of the phrase. No. He had stated an 'affirmative' which held a bit more power to it in his processor. A sign he was breaking back to core roots.

After Optimus' registered this, the Prime seemed to grow partly placated. It was only after another moment to make sure that everything was in line that he turned and departed at a casual gate. While he did so, his hand lifted up to the side of his helm, obviously connecting in to someone else's comm-line, his voice sounding out and fading away as he moved down the hallway.

Silence settled then between Thunder and Carbine, that wonderfully awkward silence that occurs when someone had a near death incident and just needed a moment to catch their breath. In this case, Cybertronian didn't really need to 'catch their breath' so to speak, but the ticking moments to process and actually fully realize what had occurred still happened. After this painful moment, Carbine simply let out a loud barking yelp of a nervous laugh that was so forced it was a miracle it didn't sound hysteric.

"W?H?EL?P!? ?... T?HA?T? ?S?UC?KE?D!"

[Deleted]

Carbine, with his suddenly cheerful declaration of the obvious, single-handedly shattered the tense mood which had settled over them both after Optimus’ departure, then stomped those little fragmented pieces into dust, and then scattered that dust into the wind.

With those three little words, Carbine successfully gave Thundercloud emotional whiplash by snapping his mood like a rubber band, sending him from tense and wary to incredulous in two seconds flat. This rapid shift in mood was punctuated by a sharp bark of laughter, which forced itself from Thundercloud’s chest completely unbidden. He was not humoring Carbine’s poor attempt at lightening the gloomy atmosphere, nor was he even really genuinely amused by the mech’s words - his laugh was simply a reflexive response to the absolute absurdity that was his life in conjux with Carbine’s. Not that this was necessarily a bad thing.

For all the trouble he caused, Thundercloud wouldn’t distance himself from the other mech for all the world. He had the feeling his life would be terribly boring if he did.



Fin~