51st Transmission - Action

[heavyweaponsbot]

[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!))

Comments

[thenotmagician]

[Oh hey Ironhide, have your best buddy. Not really]

Yo.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He glances over at Zeke, his good optic narrowing. And then snorts, attempting to dismiss him.

... Which is easier said than done, since he hasn't actually gone anywhere.]

[deadtous.livejournal.com]

[Under a table is a harassed and filthy-looking ball of female and claws, glowering at Ironhide to hide how freaked out she is. She's seen a lot, but she's never seen a giant metal man walk into a bar...

... a strangled sound comes out of her throat. It's a bad joke, even in her head.

Moonie keeps staring with huge, luminous eyes.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[The sound sort of makes him stop. That's... not normal. He glances around, before finally leaning over to peer closer to the floor. Gears grind.]

... what is this?

[deadtous.livejournal.com]

[RUDE.

Moonie curses in her native language and spits at him. She feels it an appropriate response to being peered at by a fucking huge robot.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Ironhide curses right back at her. In his native language - an unholy marriage of a dial-up modem and whale song, according to some human listeners.]

I"M SORRY ARNHAID

[deadtous.livejournal.com]

[That unholy marriage gives her a fat jolt, startling Moonie into leaping back a meter. She bolts gracelessly to her feet and gives him her mightiest snarl. Maybe it'll warn the bucket of bolts away.]

The fuck made you!?

[IRONHIDE UNDERSTANDS GERMAN YES?]

FFF

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Ironhide snarls right back, with all the force his eight feet, thousands of pounds, can muster.]

The All Spark. What made you?

[And yes. Yes he does. He also speaks it. Ah, the beauty of the internet!]

[deadtous.livejournal.com]

[Moonie is prepared to deal with upstart organics. Ironhide is neither her size nor is he organic. She straightens her back and bares every damn fang in her mouth, jaw nearly unhinging.]

People who taught me how to bring down big monsters like you, scum-fucker!

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He quirks an optic ridge at that. And leans in closer. He doesn't have... fangs, or even teeth, really, but he has size.]

They lacked the ability to teach you how to use relevant insults. I am made of metal, and you use a term referring to organic mating.

wtf THANKS FOR THE NOTIF LJ D:

[deadtous.livejournal.com]

[Moonie snorts and almost crosses her arms to reinforce the sass, she'd rather have them free in case this gets ugly. She scoots to the right, avoiding a table, checking to see if the freaky robot guy follows.]

You're metal, and there must be a dent in whatever cybernetic brain the 'All Spark' gave you. Do you take everything literally?

DDD8

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He doesn't move to follow her, just watches her scoot, his good optic tracking her progress along.]

Only when I feel it would be beneficial.

[deadtous.livejournal.com]

[He isn't stalkng. Moonie seizes the opportunity to launch onto the bar, figuring the higher she can get the more of an advantage she has in case he's a hostile.

She's starting to think her station might be safer than the boat.]

Why did your All Spark create you? For what purpose? [she demands.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Ironhide watches her jump up, wearing a rather resigned expression. He doesn't make a move to stop her.]

Why did your maker create you? For what purpose?

[defiant-rage.livejournal.com]

[A certain alien may be watching you practice your combat drills. After a few minutes, 'Moramee approaches.]

Good to see a soldier who has not forgotten their training.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Ironhide finishes whichever bit of barrel rolling he's currently engaged in before straightening with a creak of joints, to acknowledge the Arbiter.]

I would have had to have shorted my processor before I forgot such a thing.

[defiant-rage.livejournal.com]

[The Sangheili general grunts in approval.]

If you ever need someone as battle-hardened as yourself to sharpen your skills on, I never back down from a fight.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He nods once, and then gives him a glance.]

... You ever get your armor repaired?

[defiant-rage.livejournal.com]

Shoddily... [And the slight growl hints at his irritation towards that fact...] But, yes. It is repaired enough to serve its purpose.

[heavyweaponsbot]

Poor repairs are something we must all deal with around here.

[He gestures at the hole in his chest armor.] Good. I would hate to think you had an obvious weak point.

[defiant-rage.livejournal.com]

['Moramee orange eyes flick over the hole.]

Old wounds are no shame. It is simply like wearing your strength on your skin... or, your hull. I have my own scars underneath this ornamental prison.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He snorts, shaking his head.]

You and my medic would disagree. He would see me fully repaired once again.

... Yours never felt the same?

[defiant-rage.livejournal.com]

I believe the customs of "medics" are very different between our races.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[His snort sounds amused this time.]

Really? Try me.

[defiant-rage.livejournal.com]

We have no "personal" medics. In our culture, our blood contain's a warrior's essence; our honor. Because of this, medics are seen by many as the lowest members of society because they make their living slicing and causing another Sangheili to bleed without honor. These beliefs make visiting a doctor very shameful for some Sangheili.

For us, the only honorable way for a Sangheili to be injured or bleed out is from combat with the enemy.