[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Best and Brightest [Closed]

[Bumblebee]

Episode 3 | Week 2 | Day 4
Late Morning
---

Boredom was a dangerous thing.

Well, no- it wasn’t that he was bored it was more… a restless energy that he couldn’t seem to shake. It felt like absolutely nothing today could hold his attention, and it seemed like everyone was either occupied with their own stuff, or just busy in general - and he hadn’t wanted to pester anyone.

Then again, admittedly, he hadn’t looked very hard.

After what happened to Ratchet, it wasn’t like they could just leave the base, either. At least, not without good reason. There was still many an hour until he had to go and pick up Raf from school, and it seemed like time was dragging at an absolute crawl.

Sprawled on his berth, Bee peered up at the CDs that littered the ceiling of his room. Still 157 of them, he wondered if Raf would be able to bring him some more to add to the collection. Then again, it wasn’t like there was really any room for more, and so went that idea just as quickly as it’d come.

A vented sigh of annoyance, a rumble of a beep. He had to find something to do. He’d done his monitor duty for the day, done some training downstairs against one of the dummies, watched a repeat of a cartoon, yet nothing had really worked in staving off this weird feeling.

With a lazy roll, he’d ease himself from the berth, stretching his arms above his head once standing, before shaking them out and making his way from his room. Normally he’d turn left, heading toward the Control Room and the rest of the base, but today he went right.

A trudge of a walk, he wasn’t putting much effort into his steps. He passed Optimus’ room, Bulkhead’s… Pausing, hesitating a moment outside the door that belonged to Carbine and Thunder. After what he’d seen of Carbine’s face just days earlier he had so many questions, and for half a second debated knocking to see if Thundercloud was around.

But he continued on.

Maybe a spar would be good. Against an actual Cybertronian instead of one of those lifeless and tired old dummies. But with who? That was the question. Carbine was stuck in the brig - and after what Bee had seen? He would’ve probably held back - Javelin was… he didn’t know where she was. Jazz would probably be up for it, but he wasn’t sure where he was either. Then everyone else he could think of was probably far too busy, or had a million other more important things to do.

Another hum, he’d kept walking as he thought - backtracking some and quickly making his way to the area that Hot Rod had ‘claimed’ as a room. Why the other mech wanted to crash in what was essentially a storage room was beyond Bumblebee, but he’d never really had the chance to question it. Hot Rod had been at Omega for a while now, yet they’d never really interacted. A passing greeting, not much else.

Optimus had told him a week or so ago that he’d be leading some planned drills, and while no order had been officially given on that, he’d sought out Windshield just yesterday, and could only assume that Hot Rod was another that he’d be tasked with assisting.

And if not? Well, this would be a good chance to get to know Hot Rod a little more, to see what he was capable of in a spar. Surely, surely he was as bored as Bumblebee was, and would hopefully jump at the chance for something to do. 

Coming to a stop in the open doorway, he’d peer into the room.

--Yo, uh, Hot Rod? You busy?--

[Hot Rod]

     Thus far, no one had really questioned him on it, and now that he was stuck inside the base the lack of a door confining him to a tiny space was more reassuring than ever. He'd been shown larger rooms, even given them the good old college try as Ratchet had suggested, but he'd always come back here. No matter their size they felt closed off. Being unable to turn and flee in the instant his fight or flight kicked in was something he couldn't get over. So here he was and here was where he stayed. No one else seemed to care, to be honest. This space was pretty much his- Ratchet had told him he could have it if that was what what he needed to feel comfortable. No one walked past because it was out of the way for most and no one had a reason to come to this area, as the other occupants of the base all had rooms on the other side of the silo.

     Hot Rod sat on the floor, elbow propped on a knee and his cheek in his hand staring at the far wall. It was so plain now that he had moved the shelves away but he couldn't quite decide what to do with it. Paint? He'd teased the idea but was it really even worth doing? Honestly, he couldn't see himself staying here long enough to even bother. So far he seemed to only get himself in trouble, so more and more he felt that he was just make himself the outcast here just as he had back at the Academy. Nothing new. It just meant he should probably move on. Not that anyone would notice him gone anyway.

     The youth jumped some, his spoiler's wings fluttering like a Seeker's when he heard a voice calling his name from behind him. He pulled his chin off his hand and turned his upper frame slightly to look in the direction of the sound to see who it was. The yellow Scout he spotted hadn't... exactly been who he expected. He'd seen him in passing at the base but the encounters were never anything too memorable. There was something else that bothered him but he couldn't quite put his finger on what that was. 

     Elsewhere. Where, though?

     "Uh... no? Unless you consider envisioning neon lights on that sorry excuse for a wall color as being busy."

     Hot Rod wasn't in the best of moods considering the circumstances, but he didn't want to miss out on an opportunity to at least converse with another bot- especially one that was around his age ( or so it seemed, probably was but at least he was closer in age to him than Ratchet was ), so he toned down the sass. He straightened himself and stood, then brushed his hands together to get off the little pieces of chipped cement from the floor. 

     "What's up...? Um?" There was a blank on the other bot's name and Hot Rod just stared. "Never caught your name. "

[Bumblebee]

The immediate startled reaction as he spoke wasn’t lost on Bee, and he’d shrink back just slightly. He hadn’t intended to spook the other mech, figuring his footfalls would’ve been more than enough to alert his oncoming presence.

--Oh scrap, didn’t mean to scare you, sorry!-- he chirped quickly, although made no motions of moving into the room. While he didn’t fully understand why Hot Rod had picked this particular room for himself, he was one of those who didn’t question the choice.

--Neon lights, huh? Any specific colors in mind?--

The base, as a whole, was rather drab and boring what with its concrete walls and concrete floors. His own quarters had been decorated some with nifty things he’d found here and there, including some lava lamps that added an extra something to the room. Other than that, though, he wasn’t sure if anyone else really cared so much as to fancify their surroundings. Bulkheads room had probably been painted by Miko, but other than that? Eeeh. He wasn’t sure.

So to hear that Hot Rod was wanting to do something to make the room slightly less boring? He was all for it!

Or, was, until the other mech spoke again. Uhh. Did he genuinely not know his name? Or was he being a jerk because he’d been spooked?

--Uhh… Bumblebee? Bee? C’mon, how do you not know?--

Hot Rod had taken Raf out before, surely his name had come up at least once. Then again, he wasn’t there, and didn’t know. Bee made a point of looking at rosters, and getting to know newcomers to the base - although maybe he was an oddity in that he actually wanted to get to know his fellow Autobots. Not everyone did, and he could respect that!

Still though! C’mon!

[Hot Rod]

     Hot Rod's entire life revolved around being quick on his feet with a honed in fight or flight instinct to quickly get in and get out after the job was done and this was just the unfortunate end result- a tightly coiled spring, ready to snap back and smack someone at a moment's notice should he need to. Bumblebee had just played into that snare, so it wasn't anything on the yellow and black...

     An audible smacking of metal to metal was heard as he slapped his palm against the front of his forehelm, connected the colors with the name right at that moment and let out a lengthy irritated sound meant for himself.

     "Oh, shit. Right. I mean, I've heard your name but I didn't put two and two together. Sorry... been one hell of a week." The youth was definitely colorful with his language, and much in the way Jazz had, took on a lot of the human verbiage. Well, he felt stupid now and surely that triggered more of the less friendly usages. "To be honest, I thought you would have been called something more dangerous like.... Hornet or Yellow Jacket. I envision Bumblebees to be more... fluffy and passive. Bumblebee doesn't exactly strike fear into the hearts of your enemies."

     Hot Rod dropped his servo and placed it on his hip plate, his back straightening as he stood at his full height with his spoiler easing to a more relaxed nature now that he had recognized that there was no danger here. He looked at the wall to his left and made a face.

     "Not really sure on the color," he started, changing the subject, "but something loud for sure. I hear they have this really cool neon paint that glows under black light that I may try to get my hands on. Put strips of that cool purple lighting along the top of the ceiling there to really give it a neat highlight effect."

     A shrug caused the vents on his shoulders to shift with the movement and he returned his gaze to the scout before him.

     "Pretty sure talking about décor wasn't the end goal here. You asked if I was busy. Did you need me for something?"

[Bumblebee]

Bumblebee could only flinch as Hot Rod smacked the palm of his servo against his forehead, the noise that followed was met with a quizzical helm tilt, only to relax some as the other mech spoke.

--It’s all good!-- he chirped. It was probably kind of rude for him to assume that everyone knew his name - while he was a frequent sight around Omega and was on many a roster, he hadn’t met everyone yet.

A vented, huff of a sigh escaped him at the mention of hornets, and he’d shake his helm.

--Okay buuut have you heard that saying the humans have? It’s sting like a bee!-- he beeped this proudly. --It ain’t sting like a yellow jacket.--

That didn’t have a nice ring to it at all and he realized how ridiculous it sounded at saying it out loud. There was absolutely nothing wrong with his designation, and maybe in a way having his namesake be so ‘fluffy and passive’ would work to his advantage in that he would be underestimated in battle.

As Hot Rod shifted to stand at his full height, Bumblebee would unconsciously do the same. Not sizing himself up against the other mech, but just trying to ‘mimic’, in a way, as he moved further into the room, his gaze following Hot Rod’s to look at the wall.

Resting both servos on his hips, he would listen - optics whirring some at the mention of glowy neon paint. Wait wait wait… that was a thing? Immediate mental note made to ask Raf about that later - how cool would that be, he could paint it all over his room and-

Well, Hot Rod had thought of it first, but surely it’d be okay if they both used it, right?

--What about…-- wait, what was a loud color? --Maybe red? Would that work with the purple?--

He didn’t know a thing about what colors worked together and what didn’t, yet his processor was mulling over the thought of red and purple together in a room, not noticing the other mech looking his way once more. At least not until he spoke, making Bee’s attention snap back to him in an instant.

--Oh, right! Uh, well, yeah - wondered if you’d be up for a spar or something. I’m bored. Maybe you can find out why the humans say sting like a Bee, eh?-- he chirped --Plus it doesn’t look like you’re doing much, sooooo…

Unless of course, ya scared going up against someone passive and fluffy?--

[Hot Rod]

     Conversation switch to something that was a bit more fun. Paint! Paint was a topic he could get into. He looked at the area after the idea of red was proposed and he made a drawn out 'hmm' noise as he tried to envision it. "Red is... red. Actually, red is Ratchet. Ratchet Red." As loud as Hot Rod was with his screaming flame hood paint job, it wasn't like red was something he was down for. If anything, it was sort of boring. "I mean, if I wanna have the theme colors for the Decepticon and Autobot war splattered all over the walls, sure, but I don't think that'd be so fun. Your space is supposed to take you away from the stupid of the outside world, not remind you of the things that make you wanna pull your hair out."

     He made another noise with his index and thumb digit on his chin as he mulled over it and he wasn't really listening to what was being said by the other young mech. That is... until he mentioned spar, which didn't take too long for him to snap to attention. He wondered why he was being sought out to help with someone else being bored... unless that was just because there was no one else to go to. That was usually how it was with Hot Rod- last picked to be on the kickball team sort of stuff. At this point he wasn't really offended by it anymore since it still meant he was being picked, last or not. Just meant he had to prove everyone else why he should have been picked first.

     Oh so it was this conversation again. Right, here it was coming around to bite him. Not like he wouldn't take the opportunity to be a smart ass right back, though. "Yeah, but... yellow jackets are dangerous. Don't Bumblebees have the lowest painful sting or something?" Hot Rod felt like he was digging himself a bit of a hole here but at this point he didn't care. Bumblebee triggered that sass so here it was, and there was Hot Rod smirking as he dug himself a little deeper. "So that saying makes no sense unless you're making fun of someone for fighting like they couldn't hit a brick wall if it was right in front of 'em. Is that why they called ya that, Sir fluffy?"

     At least it was playful banter and not malicious in nature. Then again, Bumblebee could take it that way but then it wouldn't be Hot Rod's fault for it.

[Bumblebee]

Ratchet red?

Huh. Bumblebee had never really associated the color red with their medic before. Optimus, maybe - or the Autobots as a whole, but not Ratchet. There was an almost quizzical look given Hot Rod’s way as his optics whirred gently, before he’d nod at the following words.

No, no, okay, the part about the reminder of the war being painted on the walls did make sense. His own quarters hadn’t been touched by paint - though his processor was certainly wondering if he was allowed to do such a thing. There’d been no issue with his decoration attempts so far - and it wasn’t like paint was such a huge deal, right?

--Ah, no, that makes sense. Good point! I didn’t think of it like that. Maybe get a different color light than purple, too? Maybe blue or something, with yellow paint! Then it’d glow green?--

That did sound pretty cool - and maybe something that he kinda wanted for himself. It’d match one of the lava lamps in his room, and would tie the whole thing together! Another mental note made - ask Raf what colors he would like, as well as ask about the neon glowy paint.

There was a touch of disappointment in the fact Hot Rod hadn’t moved or done much of anything since the offer to spar had been made. Maybe he really was scared, or simply didn’t feel like doing it right now - which would be totally fine, except for the fact Bee couldn’t find anyone else who wasn’t busy and he was oh so very bored.

A gentled, rumbled beep of a whir sounded - probably the Bumblebee equivalent of a scoff, before he shook his head.

--You’re talking a lot of talk for someone who ain’t even moved yet!--

Despite his beeps, his tone was playful enough. A gentle tease, he didn’t mind the sass and jabs against him - as long as they weren’t done with actual malice.

He just wished he had some sort of name to jab back at the other mech in return.

Ah well, he’d just kick his aft in a spar. That’d show him!

[Hot Rod]

Hot Rod noticed the look he got after mentioning Ratchet but he'd ignored it and gone on, just as Bee seemed to when he didn't bring it up in conversation. They went on as if nothing had stirred up any sort of vibes which was probably for the best anyway. Good thing for Bee that Hot Rod wasn't being rude with his comments. Not that he wouldn't make obvious comments if that were the case. No beating around the bush with this one- nope. He'd flat out tell you if your exhaust stunk or if your paint color reminded him of baby vomit, personal feelings be damned. It'd be your own fault if you took offense to being told the truth.

"I'll figure it out. The way I see it, the more obnoxious the better. Keep it tacky and no one will want to invade your personal space."

Yeah, clearly he really didn't like company in large numbers a majority of the time. Sure, it sucked being alone most days, but sometimes it was for the best. Especially when a majority of the company were 'adults' who just considered being in your proximity to be 'babysitting'. Not that he was in particular roasting Prowl in his mind or anything, but he definitely was.

"Yeah, yeah. I don't see you in a hurry skippin' outta here either you know." He made a huffing noise then brushed himself off as if some dust had accumulated on him after that short amount of time. With that over and done with he made his way over to the yellow bot and made a 'lead the way' open palm gesture with his servo. "After all, you're the one who knows the way to where you wanna go, right? Give me directions and we may end up in Antarctica."

[Bumblebee]

--I mean, maybe if you had an actual room for your stuff that wasn’t an empty storage area, people will leave ya alone?--

There was a gentle tease in his beeps, he did not mean or intend to offend - but at least the rooms that’d been allocated as personal quarters had doors with keypads to prevent unwanted visitors.

--Y’know? They have doors, keypads - people are pretty good at staying out of each other’s rooms, unless they knock and ask, of course!--

Nobody knew his door code - well, Raf did, but the keypads were so high up that the tiny humans would need some sort of help reaching the buttons. Not that it mattered even if they didn’t, Raf was someone who was welcome at any time into Bumblebee’s space!

As Hot Rod began moving toward him, Bumblebee would take a couple of gradual steps backward toward the open doorway. He didn’t turn to start walking away just yet though, keeping his attention on the other mech.

--Well yeah! Wanted to make sure you’d come with!--

Nothing more embarrassing than walking down a corridor chatting away to someone who you thought was following, only to realize they weren’t and you were stuck talking to yourself. It’d happened a couple of times during Bee’s time at Omega and man, he didn’t want it happening again!

--Antarctica? I mean, we’re just going uh... downstairs - surely you’ve been down there before?--

With that said, it was then Bumblebee would swivel on his heel and moving into a walk.

--Figured we could just spar in one of the training rooms, that way we ain’t gonna be in anyone’s way, y’know? And if ya ain’t been down there before maybe I can give you a bit of a tour. Show you the actual storage rooms and stuff.--

The first thing Bumblebee had done when they’d first arrived at Omega - once he’d gotten the okay, anyway - was explore the heck out of the place. No room had gone unsearched! Well, aside for the rooms that Fowler and his people frequented - if only because he couldn’t fit through those tiny little doors! It’d been so weirdly exciting to see everything, and it was amazing to him that others here at base didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm at times.

[Hot Rod]

     "I um... can't do four walls." He cleared his throat and lowered the volume to his voice as he said that, obviously ashamed of having to admit that. "It reminds me of the stasis chamber I woke up in. Plus it's weird cause even though there's a door it makes me feel like I'm trapped. Nothing like waking up and feeling like you're in a prison cell with no way out, right?" Also sometimes he would overheat while he was in recharge and in an enclosed small space that he'd seen from the rooms meant he really wouldn't have a way of cooling down without going out since air wasn't going to be able to circulate. Nothing like suffocating cause you became your own flaming nightmare.

     With that embarrassing admission over, it was time to move on to something else before bee had a chance to ask questions. Didn't mean he couldn't bounce back to it.

     "Ratchet gave me a bit of a tour but it was mostly 'Don't go here, here, or there. That area is off limits to kids, and that spot is only for us old mechs to hang out and drink ourselves into oblivion'." Hot Rod was a bit gruffier with his voice and put one hand on his hip while shaking the index finger of the other to symbolize Ratchet speaking. He didn't sound exactly like that, and honestly he didn't know if Bee was watching his antics or not, but he did it all anyway. Once done with his award winning impersonation of the old cranky medic, he lowered his servos. "I tried to camp out in the medical bay before I settled on my own space, but that old crank case chased me out and told me I couldn't sleep there. I'm starting to think he just always has a fuse lit and he just waits for an unsuspecting victim to walk into his blast range like some land mine."

     Clearly Bee was making sure he didn't ditch him, which was fine. He didn't know the place all that well so if they took the scenic route to where they needed to go he was cool with it. Not that he had anywhere else he needed to be.

     "I didn't even know you had an actual sparring room here. I thought you guys just kind of... knew your stuff and pulled it out of the woodworks when you faced off with the Decepticons. Didn't know skilled fighters had to keep it up. Unless it's just to show off?"

[Bumblebee]

Bumblebee knew better than to ask why Hot Rod didn’t like four walls - the shift in tone and volume indicated that it was a sensitive subject, and even though he was certainly curious? It wasn’t his place to ask.

Though, the reason came anyway and man did he feel bad. He loved his quarters - it was a little safe space that belonged to him and him alone (well, and Raf!), full of cool and awesome things he’d collected since being on Earth, as well as a few tiny pieces of the Ark itself as a reminder of how far they’d come.

He hadn’t even realized for one second - mostly because it was something that he took for granted - that maybe the small enclosed rooms weren’t for everyone, that maybe there were those that had phobias or bad memories attached to such spaces.

--Oh, sorry.--

His own beeps quieter then, feeling a little awkward. Though it didn’t last long, as the impression of Ratchet made him laugh - a beepy trill, paired a gentle shake of his helm.

--Ya sound just like him! Pretty accurate, too - though I am surprised he didn’t ask someone else to do the tour, given how busy he is… uh, was.--

Now it was Patch’s turn to run things over in the Medical Bay, though with folks around like Skirmisher and Neon, she at least had some help - or so he could only assume! He tended to avoid that area, if only because his presence would be a hindrance more than any help.

--Sleeping in the medical bay? Eesh, I’d rather nap in the generator room than in there!--

While he wasn’t moving overly slowly, he did make a point of glancing over his shoulder every so often to make sure Hot Rod was still there and following, even if the sound of footfalls was evidence enough.

Plus it felt weird talking to him while he lingered behind.

--I mean, some of us know our stuff! But even skilled fighters have to keep practicing or it goes away, y’know? You get rusty to a point that when a Decepticon shows up you aren’t as good as you can be.--

Training could be seen as a chore, as boring - but to Bumblebee it was a way to hone his skills, to try new things that could then be translated better when in an actual combat scenario. The training dummies could only go so far, which was part of why he wanted someone to actually spar with for once.

--Showing off is kinda fun too, though. At least sometimes!-- he chirped.

[Hot Rod]

     "What do you have to apologize for? I got myself into it. My fault, my problems to deal with. You start saying sorry to everyone for the stupid shit they get themselves caught up in you'll start making them think they're not responsible for their own actions cause someone will always feel bad for 'em."

     There were other reasons behind why he couldn't stand the confinement, but those were his secrets to have and crutches to bear. Bee got a basic taste of something much more common than what he endured and he fully intended to leave it that way. He and Bee weren't friends. Even if they were he wouldn't share that level of personal stuff with him. No one else's concern, right? He didn't need the 'i feel for ya dude' sympathy that seemed to be the big go-to around this base. Maybe that's why Ratchet's attitude seemed so much more refreshing...


     Time to snap back to this moment. There was a yellow Autobot who was talking to him about his preference to the generator room to the medical bay. Again, the medical room was much more spacious and far more quiet than the generator room. That steady hum was hardly comforting, thought he figured some probably did. There was another topic of discussion, and this one actually got an verbal sound. 

     Hot Rod scoffed slightly at the term that had been used.

     'Skilled fighters'

     No way Bee could have possibly been including him into the category he'd obviously placed most of the base into. He barely even knew how to handle a firearm that wasn't the ones welded to his own arms, and that was only because all he had to do was move and arm and shoot. Something about an extra appendance that wasn't actually connected absolutely baffled his very simple process brain. It wasn't like manipulating something sentient.


     "I can do showing off." That was more of his language lingo, but he didn't exactly consider sparring to be along those lines. "I just don't think 'I can pop off more shots with this long range gun of justice faster than you can beat me over the head with your mighty mallet of death' to be my idea of showing off. If I wanted that I'd just watch a campy action movie."



     "Speaking of... you got any decent flicks around here to watch? It gets really boring just wandering around all day, and if I have to count the cracks in the ceiling of the area I'm staying in one more time I'm gonna start making new ones just to change it up."

[Bumblebee]

--I mean, I’m not saying sorry cos it’s my fault, I just- I didn’t know that was why, y’know? Didn’t mean to sound like a jerk questioning your reasons for not wanting an actual room.--

It might’ve been in the past, whatever it was might’ve been Hot Rod’s fault like he said - but it clearly still affected him to this day, and while Bee hadn’t exactly judged the other mech or been harsh at all with his comments, he’d been a little ignorant and hadn’t really thought about it.

He wouldn’t dwell, though - not wanting Hot Rod to feel awkward, and so unless the other mech brought it up again, he would drop the subject.

The gentle scoff wasn’t lost on him, though the meaning behind the noise was, and it was met with a gentle whir as his optics narrowed slightly in thought. While he obviously didn’t know the fighting capabilities of everyone here at the Omega Base, those who he had worked with? Well, he would absolutely call them skilled.

Everyone had their own strengths and weaknesses, which was why he kept on training - honing those skills and trying to work on the things he wasn’t so good at, and he could only hope that others did the same. They were technically still at war with the Decepticons, after all!

--No no, I mean uh like… turning it into a competition kind of thing, y’know? Like, who can do the most backflips or stand on their servos for the longest time before buckling. Showing off that way.--

Wooow that sounded lame said out loud. It was little things like that though that got him through some of the rougher parts of the war back on Cybertron - turning things into little games and competitions to pass the time, using rations or anything cool they’d found in the wreckage as prizes. It sorta helped with morale, in a way.

The question was met with a beepy laugh and a nod as he made his way down the stairs and onto the lower floor of the base.

--Yeah! I mean, the kids have a TV in the Control Room that we’re able to use. Movies aren’t on there all the time since there’s a schedule thing going on, buuuuut if you talk to Raf or Miko they can probably bring in some DVDs for you to watch.--

Checking over his shoulder to make sure Hot Rod was still there, he’d chirp.

--Though some of the shows on TV are pretty good! Saw one once with this detective guy who like… pretends to be kinda stupid, I guess? But he isn’t stupid at all and man, some of the things he manages to solve? Amazing!--

Turning back around so he could watch where he was going, he would add one last thing.

--Do you seriously just wander around? Could always help out, y’know! Heaps of cleaning and general little maintenance things to be done around the base!--

[Hot Rod]

"Uh," Hot Rod looked at Bumblebee as he described the whole training thing that he had asked about, rubbing the back of his head with a very distinctive and tell-tale expression written all over his face. "That's sounds really... um.... dumb? No no, gimme a minute." He brought that hand to his mouth as he tapped his index digit against his mouth. "No, there's a much stronger word that I'm looking for that I just can't quite think of right now. Hm..."

Yeah, there was the asshole coming out for sure, but it's not like he was really directing it towards Bumblebee, but more of just...

Was that really the kind of thing they found themselves doing in the midst of this whole war?

"Stupid seems to be what I want to say, but I know there's a different one that I'm not figuring out. I want to say idiotic, but that's sort of leaning in a weird direction that I don't think I'm meaning to. I'm all for showing off and seeing who's the best of the best, don't get me wrong, but fight shows? That sounds mundo lame, bro."

A scoff, digits now laced together against the back of his head as he continued to follow behind Bee, still with that skeptical little frown on his face as if someone had just suggested he clean the bathroom with his bare hands or something.

"As much as I'd love to help out, I'm hardly the 'TCL' type, ya know? These hands aren't made for that kind of labor of love. More recommended to leave that sort of thing to the professionals that know what they're doing. Primus knows I'd probably go to twist a pipe and end up flooding the base with sewage or something like that."

[Bumblebee]

There was a gentle whir of optics as Bee’s experience was met with the word ‘dumb’ and then stupid.

War wasn’t supposed to be fun, yet in those rare moments of downtime between missions? They did what they could to raise morale. Silly little competitions that could be considered games were sometimes the only things that kept them going. Strengthened the team and whatever friendships had been made.

Though that was a mistake in some ways, as it meant the losses - of which there were many - hurt a hundred times more.

--It helped at the time.--

He wasn’t annoyed but his tone had shifted some. Hurt? Was that what he felt? A little. Hot Rod probably didn’t really get it though, maybe his team were far stricter or didn’t have the time (not that Bee’s really did either) to goof off sometimes.

--Boosted morale, strengthened the group. It wasn’t just messing around, even if we had fun doing it.--

A rumbled hum of a beep escaped him as he continued to walk, a gentle scoff of his own sounded at Hot Rod’s reasoning for not helping. He had no idea what TCL meant, and- not wanting to be called dumb again, he wouldn’t ask. Though would glance over his shoulder as he replied, optics still narrowed.

--Professionals? Ain’t like we have anyone who was a trained janitor back in the day. Like even Bulk helps out with the generator sometimes and I doubt he was trained in anything like that.--

Did he seriously just wander around the base and not help with anything? Everyone contributed something to the team and the base as a whole - yet this guy?

Mm. Maybe he was a little more annoyed than he realized at Hot Rod’s initial reaction.

--Plenty of brooms and stuff around, could help keep the place clean even if you don’t wanna do any maintenance work.--

Moving down the stairs to the lower level of the base, he would continue.

--Can show you where they are if ya want, since the majority of the storage rooms are down here too.--