Ep 1 - Awkward Family Moments - Closed
Aug 14, 2012 14:02:14 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Aug 14, 2012 14:02:14 GMT -5
"...Should've seen 'em," Ironhide was saying, the last word coming out on a huff of hydraulics as he scooped up a heavy bale of wiring that needed relocating to the main atrium where Steeljaw had been spending off hours doing... well, frag all if Ironhide knew, something about wiring a security and improved power grid system, all complex things done with micro tools at Ironhide's knee level.
Cleaver, trailing along behind him with an armful of assorted tools, hadn't said a word when he went for the bale - she hadn't needed to, as he'd already been read the riot act about not ripping new welds wide open. He'd been behaving, for the most part - he lifted with the good shoulder, only steadying with his newly repressurized arm, but it left the carrying a little awkwardly unbalanced.
It had been a quiet morning - offduty, for once, with a welcome chance for some extra hours of recharge. Cleaver had put a stop to Ironhide's usual habit of continuing the everpresent work of fixing up the outer regions of the base, citing his wounds with a sharp optic glare, but she hadn't protested nearly as much when he'd offered to help her with her general work around the medbay. He had, over the course of the day, regaled her with some of the safer - edited and non-classified - tales of the recent Autobot doings, especially as pertained to their own cohort. "Yeh'd think somebody gave Jazz a box of sweets an' a case of real High Grade. So Steeljaw whips these little things up in heaps an' Jazz an' his crew all go off with these things stuffed in their subspace - Primus bless, Ah don't know how yeh shove somethin' that looks like a fragging scraplet in yer subspace, Ah don't care how safe Steeljaw said they were - t' - an Ah kid yeh not, Jazz's own words - give th' 'Cons a case of fleas. Ain't ever seen nothin' like it, an' th' whole lot of 'em glitchin' they're so pleased with themselves."
Reaching the atrium, he carefully heaved the bale into place beside its twin that he had carried out earlier. "No wonder yeh got Steeljaw doin' yer wiring - mech works on scrap so small Ah can barely see it." Straightening, he gave the femme a grin, leaning in to brush her field companionably. "Ah'm gonna have t' get th' whole story outta 'em all. Read th' reports, but everybody leaves th' good stuff outta those. Jazz had recorders going, promised a best an' worst highlight reel of all th' fun stuff. Probably tossed it out in th' party last night. Ain't none of 'em hurt bad, though, includin' th' bitlets, an they were th' first Ah checked."
Cleaver, trailing along behind him with an armful of assorted tools, hadn't said a word when he went for the bale - she hadn't needed to, as he'd already been read the riot act about not ripping new welds wide open. He'd been behaving, for the most part - he lifted with the good shoulder, only steadying with his newly repressurized arm, but it left the carrying a little awkwardly unbalanced.
It had been a quiet morning - offduty, for once, with a welcome chance for some extra hours of recharge. Cleaver had put a stop to Ironhide's usual habit of continuing the everpresent work of fixing up the outer regions of the base, citing his wounds with a sharp optic glare, but she hadn't protested nearly as much when he'd offered to help her with her general work around the medbay. He had, over the course of the day, regaled her with some of the safer - edited and non-classified - tales of the recent Autobot doings, especially as pertained to their own cohort. "Yeh'd think somebody gave Jazz a box of sweets an' a case of real High Grade. So Steeljaw whips these little things up in heaps an' Jazz an' his crew all go off with these things stuffed in their subspace - Primus bless, Ah don't know how yeh shove somethin' that looks like a fragging scraplet in yer subspace, Ah don't care how safe Steeljaw said they were - t' - an Ah kid yeh not, Jazz's own words - give th' 'Cons a case of fleas. Ain't ever seen nothin' like it, an' th' whole lot of 'em glitchin' they're so pleased with themselves."
Reaching the atrium, he carefully heaved the bale into place beside its twin that he had carried out earlier. "No wonder yeh got Steeljaw doin' yer wiring - mech works on scrap so small Ah can barely see it." Straightening, he gave the femme a grin, leaning in to brush her field companionably. "Ah'm gonna have t' get th' whole story outta 'em all. Read th' reports, but everybody leaves th' good stuff outta those. Jazz had recorders going, promised a best an' worst highlight reel of all th' fun stuff. Probably tossed it out in th' party last night. Ain't none of 'em hurt bad, though, includin' th' bitlets, an they were th' first Ah checked."