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[heavyweaponsbot]

[Testing out the alcohol tolerance of this new body was likely not the best idea he'd ever had. Especially after that little... talk with Shockwave. Probably was best not to antagonize the Decepticons but... one of them had been such an easy mark. And Shockwave was... he had it coming. One punch from Blurr was, in Ironhide's opinion, getting off too easily.

He was sitting at one of the tables--in the bar the nervous human had mentioned, his bare feet propped up on it, and leaning back in his chair. An empty bottle was on the table beside them, and another in his hand. Clearly, he had decided not to wait for Ratchet before starting in.

Still disdaining the use of shirts, he wore only the pants Mikaela had found. A plethora of battle scars decorated his exposed skin, available for all to see. He didn't seem to care, just watched the humans wandering around, looking for a by-now-familiar face.]




((ooc: sorry for spamming x-x Harass however you want ^^; ))

Comments

[meinxxherz.livejournal.com]

[Herz is...a little anxious talking to the guy who just came in and raided the bar. He's good looking and shirtless.

He's pretty sure it's Ironhide.

How the hell is he gonna do this without lighting up like a candle and making a damn fool of himself.

Oh right, there's no way he won't be making a fool of himself.

...fuckit.

Relying on the black eyes behind his blue mask to hide the fact he's looking ANYWHERE but the older-looking man, he comes out of the kitchen and approaches the table.]

Hey, well--wel--welcome to Sergei's.

[The mask only covers the top half of his face, leaving the scars above and along his lips exposed to see.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[If his human audials could perk, they would have. The stammer is familiar, even if the voice hadn't been. He blinks, looking up. There's something odd covering this human's face. Leaning back further in his chair, he regards the human for a minute before speaking.]

Hey. You that human over the coms? One with... the malfunctioning unit?

[He's sure it is. But Ratchet always tells him that he needs to be more tactful. It's best to try, right?

Apparently, this is the Autobot's version of "tactful".]

[meinxxherz.livejournal.com]

[Hey, A+ on making yourself five times less attractive! Herz frowns.]

No, I-I'm the other stutterer that cooks here.

Y-You're Ironhide, right? Do--do you want me to just make you whatever and see what you like?

[Yeah, jerk or not, he'll feed you. Because food is awesome--you should know how awesome food is.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He sinks a little lower in the chair, growling to himself. That did not go as planned.]

Just asking. Trying to... say I should learn this... tact... thing.

[He makes a helpless, annoyed gesture with his hands.]

Yeah. I am. [A shrug] You can do that?

[meinxxherz.livejournal.com]

...Well, uh, tact would be asking if--if I were Herz or the guy who told you a-about this place.

Bringing up my...

nevermind, uh--yeah. Yeah, I-I'll go make you something.

[And he turns to go do that.]

((ooc: Should Herz come back in the log between Ironhide and Ratchet?))

[heavyweaponsbot]

... [He gives him a blank look] That was... what I said...

[The blank look continues as he turns to leave - he's never going to understand civilian humans...]


((ooc: We could keep going here, if you liked ^^;))

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[Ratchet was not in the best of moods since his change - Which had a lot to do with his recent conversation with Shockwave. He knew that Ironhide could be protective, but to go so far as to tell others specifically to terminate their conversations with him? That was pushing it.

He had better luck mastering the art of human clothing than Ironhide, at least. He had a shirt and pants and even a pair of matching socks - but he was still lacking shoes.

Though, he couldn't say he minded Ironhide's lack of shirt.]

Enjoying yourself already?

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He grinned. The expression creased his face in a strange... sort of way. But it felt good. He was glad to see the Doc'. If any living being in the universe--short of Prime himself--needed to relax, it was the Autobot CMO.]

You know the answer to that.

[He held up the bottle, studying the way the liquid inside moved around.]

Want one? It is... different.

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[The medic offered him a half smile as he took the seat across from him, adjusting his glasses again. One would think that the humans would create a more functional aid than these - they often felt like they were going to slip off the end of his nasal protrusion.

He glanced at the bottle with interest, his scientific curiosity easily countering his annoyance. Blasted attention span.]

What is that exactly?

[heavyweaponsbot]

Human alcohol.

[He set the bottle down, and pushed it across the table toward Ratchet. It knocked into the empty bottle on the way, and he snorted a little.]

Tastes... interesting. Going for more. You want some?

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[He takes the bottle and examines it over the round lenses, swirling the liquid around to test the consistency. Interesting change from the Energon he was used to - a far stronger scent as well.]

Are you sure they will offer you service? I had thought it was human policy that you must be fully clothed in order to receive fuel from these establishments - as proud as you may be of your Autobot sigils.

[He barely contained a laugh at the last part, instead electing to drink directly from the bottle -

And coughing it out just as quickly. He had not been prepared for the strength of the substance, and he hacked and sputtered, nearly dropping the bottle in the process.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He can't help but watch him study the bottle. It's... sort of endearing. His friend can be such an old fool sometimes. He's still grinning.]

I got these. I can get more.

[The grin disappeared at the mention of his sigil, and he leaned back further in the chair, scowling. He was about to say something back, when Ratchet just... what was that?

He sat up straight, genuinely concerned.]

What... you--you all right?

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[Ratchet was not at all familiar with the reaction, his throat spasming as it attempted to expell the harsh liquid. He gasped harshly as he tried to regain his composure, a hand pressed to his chest.]

That... is unusual...

[His throat feels raw as he glances at the bottle, setting it down on the table.]

This is quite... strong. It is certainly no high grade.

[ttlynotawizard.livejournal.com]

[Remy enters Sergei's for his typical waiting behind the bar for someone to order. He's stuck with his green mask, and as such flowers were blooming as he entered. They opened up and began to recite]

There was a man called Dave
Who kept a dead whore in a cave
He said "I admit
I am a bit of a shit
But think of the money I save".

[The bartender looked at the shirtless stranger sitting there with clearly a head start]

Can I get you anything or are you good with that?

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Oh what.

Half of the colloquialisms made no sense to him. Enough did, however, to where he got the general gist of what was being expressed by those... were they talking plants?

He stared at them, dumbfounded. The human's question didn't even register for several minutes. And when it did, he just glowered.]

... What in the name of the All Spark are those?

[ttlynotawizard.livejournal.com]

[Remy looks down at his feet and back to the man.]

Talking flowers that bloom wherever I step. They have dirty minds for plants, I assure you.

[He steps behind the bar. More flowers bloom and another limerick rings through Sergei's.]

There once was a fellow McSweeny
Who spilled some gin on his weenie
Just to be couth
He added vermouth
Then slipped his girlfriend a martini

It's due to the mask. This sort of thing doesn't happen to me normally.

I'm sorry, I haven't caught your name.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Well, if this place could take his body, and make him human... he supposes it could make speaking plants. Ironhide shrugs, taking a drink from the bottle--

Only to catch that last little poem. He chokes, an odd sensation, and breaks out in a fit of coughing. An automatic response he doesn't... at all understand.]

What--what...

[Hacking the alcohol out of his lungs, he shudders, managing to gasp out his designation.]

I-Ironhide...

[ttlynotawizard.livejournal.com]

[Remy winced, trying not to laugh.]

That's not fun to choke on. You want some water?

I'm Remy.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[A few more coughs, and a gag.]

... Yeah. Sure.

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

[After the er...endeavor last time they drank, she'd kept what she had left of the alcohol. So when she sauntered up to Ironhide and flopped next to him on a stool, she was already in a wonderful mood.]

Cheers, right? [She holds up her bottle to him with a twisted little smile. Fuck. Her. Life.

She takes a drink, then peers at him with wide blue eyes.]

Cheers to...everything just being...fuckin' great. Just...just great.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He's taken aback for a moment, just staring at her. What... happened? Had he missed something?

He reaches over to gently try and pry the bottle out of her hand, or at least... slow her down a little.]

What happened to you?

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

Nuh uh~ [She pullllls the bottle away from him to take a drink.]

Mine.

[She grinned at him, giving him a little poke.]

You're supposed to cheers me back.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He narrows his eyes at her, reaching for it again.]

Yeah, I know. Now answer my question...

What is the matter with you?

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

Stopit. [She gets up and moves down a seat. Her booze >|]

Why can't I drink with my sur...surrogate father, huh?

Didn't know I needed a reason...

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He waits until she's sat down, before getting painfully to his feet--old joints hurt worse as a human, apparently--and following her.]

You need a reason to be so... upset.