[Audio / Open log]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[If anyone's listening, there's a clatter over the comms, as something heavy hits the ground. There's no sounds of fighting, no shouts, cursing. Just a thunk. And silence.

Somewhere in the palm trees, exhaustion finally got the better of the old Autobot. He'd spent weeks now, with all systems engaged, first while jeweled, then searching for his missing comrade. And when Ratchet failed to be located, he's thought the worst. It's taken a toll on him.

Should anyone feel the need to investigate the sound, they'll find a huge black pile of metal, sprawled amongst the trees... out like a light and apparently quite comfortable.]

Comments

[tachikhromatic.livejournal.com]

[Musashi happens upon snooze!Ironhide, and decides to ge~ently poke him to see if he's dead. And then kick sand on him. And more sand.[]

...hee.

[HUGE AMOUNTS OF SAND KICKING.]




[flee!]

[scionofwisdom.livejournal.com]

[It has been some time since she's been on land - of course, there were those on the ship that it had been much, much longer for, but Zelda was still making every attempt to enjoy this to the fullest extent possible.

Which is why she's exploring. She's ditched the traditional gown and cloak of the monarchy and opted for something far simpler (http://geniusbeauty.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/greek-style-dresses.jpg) instead (more specifically, the one on the left), and has wrapped a soft purple scarf around her shoulders.

She does not expect to come across a large, sleeping robot in the forest.]

...Ironhide?

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He doesn't respond to her voice. He's out, and out cold. One of his big feet, however, twitches, as if he hears her, but doesn't want to acknowledge it.

C4 has no such qualms, poking its little golden nose out of a chink in his armor. It chirps at her.]

[scionofwisdom.livejournal.com]

[She understands that - and decides to continue on, smiling faintly at the little yellow frog before disappearing into the forest again.]

[teethofneedles.livejournal.com]

_{[Karis wanders by.]}

...huh.

_{[And she leaves. Then she comes back with a marker and writes her initials on his forehead.]}

[heavyweaponsbot]

[The marker-touch makes him snort, twitching his faceplates. He waves a hand toward the source, groggily trying to swat at the offending... whatever it is.]

[thepartydude.livejournal.com]

[Mike has been switching between wanting to be alone, and being annoyingly clingy since arriving on Sapphire. Right now, he's switched back to wanting to brood by himself, and he makes his way to the palm tree forest.

He stops when he sees Ironhide. A million possibilities flit through his mind, but it looked like someone had already gone the marker route. Damn. And besides, Ironhide looked pretty rough lately, even Mike had his limits for pranks. Sometimes.

Heading back to the inn, he comes trudging back a few minutes later, arms full of the biggest blanket he could find. It's still far too small, but he drapes it over his robot buddy anyway, then moves a few feet away to sit at the edge of the forest, legs dangling over the edge of the shallow cliff, watching the sunlight play on the ocean.]

;o;

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He doesn't respond at first, short of C4 chirping at the turtle. He's out like a light.

But, maybe five minutes later, his systems cycle through a lighter recharge, and the blanket registers. He blinks, locating Mike after a moment or two. He doesn't say anything. Just, pushes himself to his feet, and limps over a few paces.

Then he flops back down next to the turtle, the blanket precariously draped over a huge shoulder.]

fffffffff

[thepartydude.livejournal.com]

[Kicking his legs lazily, Mikey looks up as Ironhide stirs. In hindsight, there wasn't much use in giving a robot a blanket. It just seemed like the right thing to do.]

Welcome back to the land of the living.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[It doesn't do much of anything, but it's the thought that counts. Which is why he's still got it draped over a shoulder.]

Mmnf. You been here long?

[thepartydude.livejournal.com]

Nah.

Like twenty minutes I guess.

You were out, dude.

[heavyweaponsbot]

Hmnf.

[He shrugs, best he can on the ground.]

First time in a couple weeks... not surprised.

[thepartydude.livejournal.com]

A couple weeks?!

[Mike looks aghast.]

Dude, you can't go without sleep that long!

[heavyweaponsbot]

We need less rest than organics.

[Except he's old. His systems don't run well without shutting down more often.]

[thepartydude.livejournal.com]

Yeah but I'm pretty sure going until you fall down where you stand isn't exactly healthy.

[Mike prods some part on Ironhide's leg.]

Plus you're like, a grandpa. You're old, dude.

[heavyweaponsbot]

It is not healthy, no.

[No sense in lying to the young one. The leg panel twitches in response to the prodding.]

Several million years old. You have no idea.

[thepartydude.livejournal.com]

Then sleep, dude.

[He squints.]

Or I'll totally tell Ratchet when we find him.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Ironhide levels him a long look, blinking his good optic, before he responds.]

If we find him.

[thepartydude.livejournal.com]

Hey, "when" is a perfectly good word.

[Mike waves a hand at his robot buddy.]

We'll find him.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[His intake vents hiss.]

I am not... so certain. He is not... usually absent this long.

[thepartydude.livejournal.com]

Yeah well maybe he's not a stubborn old Hummer and he's actually, y'know, copping some Zs?

[Mike gives Ironhide a look. Trying to reassure the robot in his own way was taking the attention off his own problems, and Mike threw himself at it with relish.]

Or maybe he's like, making a lobster army and he's gonna take over the island when no one's looking!

[heavyweaponsbot]

... Or distracted by a coconut.

[Which was what Mikaela had said. It's likely. But, he's not completely convinced. He matches Mike's look.]

A... what... army?

[thepartydude.livejournal.com]

Lobsters. Y'know.

Those things.

[He points down to the beach, where a bright purple lobster is slowly making its way to the sea. Backwards.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He grunts, pushing himself up on an elbow with a great complaining of joints. Frowning, he watches the lobster.]

... It looks like an insect.

[thepartydude.livejournal.com]

They're called the cockroaches of the sea. I saw it on National Geographic once.

They taste really amazing though.

[Not that a sewer-dwelling mutant turtle has ever had an opportunity to taste anything as classy as lobster.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Ironhide makes a face.]

You... eat the insects?

[thepartydude.livejournal.com]

Rich people eat them.

[Mike squints.]

What if it's like ... one huge prank on rich people. Making them eat bugs, and then all the cooks are laughing in the kitchen.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He twitches an optic ridge.]

Maybe we should ask Ratchet. [A pause.] When we find him.

[thepartydude.livejournal.com]

Yeah Ratchet will know.

[A small grin.]

When we find him.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He reaches over and gives the turtle a little shove.]

If you see him first, tackle him for me.

[thepartydude.livejournal.com]

[Mike makes a small salute.]

Roger that.

[And then he flops down next to Ironhide, staring up through the palm fronds.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

Good soldier.

[With that declaration, he casually drapes an arm across the ground, his hand behind the turtle's head. Protective gesture.]