heavyweaponsbot: (All Spark why would you even --)
... Anyone else suddenly get a bad feeling?

As if something horrible has happened, and you have no power to set it right again?

[He has no idea where this feeling is coming from, or why it's there, but ignoring it isn't exactly helping anything.]

[It just makes him feel more and more restless.]

Need to go hit something. Badly.
heavyweaponsbot: (Drink energon - be strong like bull)
[Ironhide took one look at the little metal cuff dangling off of one big hand, and... promptly chewed on it. Hey, it was metal. He eats metal. More or less.]

[When that failed, he snarled at it, as if trying to intimidate it into submission. Again. A failure.]

[So, with nothing accomplished, the big Autobot stomped out to the tree he and Xanth rigged up as a punching bag. And that is where he can be found -- beating the tar out of the quintain.]



((ooc: Aara is flagged to be handcuffed. Anyone else is free to bother.))
heavyweaponsbot: (OH FUCK MY LIFE)
[Sand in his joints, a gaping hole in his chest, no medic, no other Autobots, no way home... a tiny rodent following him around everywhere...

And now.

Snow.]

...

I hate this place.

[The big Autobot is standing in front of his pod, kicking his feet, and trying to shake the snow out of gaps in his armor, shuddering all the while.]
heavyweaponsbot: (Action pose go!)
-- Eugh! Filthy... wretched...! Off me!

[Well. Anyone who was wondering where the hell Ironhide went off to, look no further for your answer. There are crashing sounds as the big Autobot tears his way out of the jungle. Underbrush is trampled, trees actually punched -- despite the fact that it doesn't really help matters.]

Where is that energon...

[He does sound displeased, more so than usual. Tramping around the jungle, getting stuck, and deprived of fuel for a long while doesn't do wonders for the old 'Bot's temper. And the rain isn't helping matters.]

I hate this place.
heavyweaponsbot: (Save your fears)
...

Rodents are supposed to die when you step on them. What is the matter with these creatures!

[There are a series of loud stomps, followed by cursing. In many languages.]

Get away! Disgusting little beasts!
heavyweaponsbot: (We are not amused)
[The com crackles. Ironhide shakes it. He hasn't bothered to go find his "living quarters". Not yet. He has a far more important job to attend to.

When the comm finally starts up, the voice on his end is deep, faintly accented, and still very angry.]

Autobots. Come in. Respond! I have lost your signals... answer me!

[When there is no immediate response, he snarls into it, then goes silent for several minutes.]

...

Where is this place?
heavyweaponsbot: (But why is the energon gone? :<)
You humans have the strangest things in your belongings...

[The video cuts in briefly to show Ironhide on the luggage deck.  He's holding what appears to be a piggy bank in his hands, examining it closely.  It jingles.

In his other hand is what looks like a can of compressed air... and a bottle of Old Spice body wash.]

At least some of it is useful.

[He sets the piggy bank aside and selects the can next.  The video cuts out then, but, shortly thereafter, there is a loud POP.  Ironhide is silent.  When he speaks again, he sounds disgruntled.]

...

Who would keep air in a can!
heavyweaponsbot: (Event | Ratchet's never looked angrier)
[The video opens on Ratchet.  Who looks exceedingly peeved.  Moreso than those familiar with him may have ever seen him.  In fact, he looks as if he'd very much like to rip his communicator in half.]

Whoever is in possession of my medic will inform me of his whereabouts.  Immediately!  Or I shall tear you apart!

Where has the captain put him!  Answer me!

[... well.  That's certainly not something Ratchet would ever say.]
heavyweaponsbot: (Human | BOTCOCK DAMMIT)
[When the comm is picked up, Ironhide starts out perfectly calm and composed.  Even so, there is an odd quality to his voice that isn't usually present.]

For the last time...

[And then he promptly bellows into the comms.]

MAKE UP YOUR MIND!  

Autobot!  I am Autobot!  Not... What is the meaning of this!  Bumblebee, Ratchet.  Respond.  Are you still... hmnf.  Is anyone else ... different?



((ooc: Thanks for the
humanizing, captain!))
heavyweaponsbot: (Your plan is dumb)
[Today, the Elegante will be graced with a roaming, restless Autobot. He starts out up on the top deck, practicing combat drills. There's only so much he can do just hitting bees. Granted, he is working alone, but it's better than nothing. He'll be up there, rolling, running, and punching at the air for several hours before heading out.

Next stop is Deck 12, to gather up more scrap metal. He's there for about half an hour, rooting around, finding things like staples, jewelry and the like.

Lastly, he goes to the bar for a refueling. Which he will sit and drink slowly, scowling at the general area around him. Despite feeling somewhat accomplished, he's also feeling stiff from the workout, and that, inevitably, makes him grouchy.

Approach?]


((ooc: Open to anyone at any point!))
heavyweaponsbot: (Hide your pain)
[If one listens closely, they may hear a soft smack-smack of fish tails against fishy bodies, as Ironhide turns on his comm.]

I do not see how this qualifies as a punishment.  Not so bad... Once you get used to it...

This is not going to deter me from taking action against anything, Captain.  Especially not from protecting my charges from mad women and other organics... who have more disgusting tastes than mere murder.


[Of course, Ironhide is not mentioning the fact that he hasn't rested lately, thanks to the fish he's covered in bursting into song on every hour.]
heavyweaponsbot: (This is the only way)
I want my squad to meet me on the top deck for assessment.  Now.  This is not a request.  If you do not show up, I will remove you from the team.  Simple as that.

You will also report to Hannibal King.  Treat him as my second.  If I hear of disrespect, I will not tolerate it, and you will be disciplined.  

That is all.


[Locked to Autobots: Unhackable.]

Bumblebee, Ratchet.  If you have problems with your... assignments... I want to know.  Not going to let you be taken advantage of.  Either of you.

[And with that, Ironhide will be up on the top deck, waiting for his crew.]



((ooc: Just... tag at your leisure.  There's no official closing for this post.  Ironhide just wants to test what his team can do in a fight.  Yes, he is taking this all as SRS BZNS.  Because this is what he does.  War things.  Drill instructor things.  Everyone can assume they're meeting at separate times, or tag each other, whichever.  Just have fun!))
heavyweaponsbot: (Hide your pain)
[There's a brief shot of Ironhide's face.  He looks, as per usual, disgruntled, while he toys with the comm.  Behind him are flashes of piles of objects, ranging from cardboard boxes of what looks like leather, to a neat row of plants in empty bottles.]

...

Need a favor.  Someone.

[That's all he says before the feed clicks off.]
heavyweaponsbot: (Give me the strength)
... If it does not stop being wet and damp in here, I am going to rust. Or be forced to watch my joints seize up. Or let my systems run so low, they become virus-ridden.

This is stupid.

[He knows he sounds sulky, but right now, he doesn't care. Stupid boat.]

Is this foolishness going to continue every time the weather changes?
heavyweaponsbot: (FLAWLESS.  VICTORY.)
Unless there is anyone with a useful proposal for my time, I will be occupied on deck six.

[Punching bees: what giant robots do in their downtime, kids. Of course, he won't come right out and say this.]

I grow tired of individuals who are too incompetent to work a simple communications device.

Hmnf!
heavyweaponsbot: (Somebody call demolitions?)
Are we taking down the female, or what? I grow tired of waiting around for a plan.

Who went to that Nirvana place?

If I do not hear a response, I am going to go and sit on the female.



[TRUE TO HIS WORD, Ironhide has started to roam the halls, looking for trouble in the form of a screaming little girl. [livejournal.com profile] medicalofficer is welcome to be there with him, and anyone else can run into him. But his primary target is JennJenn.]
heavyweaponsbot: (Save your fears)
What is this.

If I see one more "I told you so", or "You are all fools", I will break the one responsible! This is no time for that! You can gloat to your sparks' content after we are out of danger! Hmnf!


There was mention of mirrors. Keep away from them.

And if you are unable to defend yourself, you will go and locate someone who can. They are your new friend until this is over. Bunker down. Ride it out. And save your insults.

Probably have better ones by then, anyway.


Autobots. There are four of us. Work in pairs or alone, but know what our duty is. Mikaela, if you need me, call.
heavyweaponsbot: (We are not amused)
Stupid to ask if anyone is hearing things. I want to know instead what we intend to do about it.

... Anyone remember those... tanks? Belowdecks?


[He doesn't say anything more on that subject, figuring if anyone saw them, they'll know what he's talking about. Plus, this... brings back severely unhappy memories of that venture down below.]
heavyweaponsbot: (But why is the energon gone? :<)
... why is everyone suddenly watching films? And why is it loud on board?

What happened this time?

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