Nexus, Blackout's Kingdom, Celebrations
Blackout: *is DRUNK. Also just grabbed Dreadnought's mech creator and is snogging the gears out of him*
dJazz: *is jiggy with this!*
Jetfire: *bellowing out old war songs that sing praises to Primus... Has also added several lines touting Blackout's prowess in battle*
Requiem: *sitting up above the valley floor on a ledge between Apoleia and Dreadnought* *snort* Well, we slagged the @#$@%$#@% and let Primus sort him out, just like the orders said.
Apoleia: If Sparta drinks any more of that he'll be big puke no glitch.
Dreadnought: *snerk*
Jetfire: *roaring his improvements of one of the old battle songs to the heavens now*
Requiem: You guys feel like getting slag faced? *looks from brother to brother* Didn't think so. Let's go shoot Tyraborg.
Dreadnought: Now you're talkin'!
Deherree: You better not think you're going without me.
Requiem: *looks up at younger sister and then leaps up beside her* Get the other girls.
all youngsters other than Sparta: *soon vanish*
Toyrt-Mow: *wobbly flight path around Jetfire's head* [Hail Blackout!] BURRRRRRRRRRRRRP!
Jetfire: *in very old Decepticon* [Glory to Primus and Blackout!] *shaking his booty. He won't remember doing this in the morning, at least*
Toyrt-Mow: [Hail!] *nearly flew into Jetfire's face there, oops*
Sparta: *just urked on Jetfire's foot*
Jetfire: *just tripped over his own two feet and introduced his skidplate to the ground* *laughs about it*
Sparta: *stumbles away from the puddle of rejected energon and then faceplants over in a sandy area*
Blackout: *looks toward the noise* ... Did you purge?
Jetfire: *blink blink* Nay... *snicker* But Sparta did.... Right o'er me foot!
Blackout: *sound of disgust* I'm going inside. *dJazz under one arm and an utterly slag-faced Scorponok in her other hand*
Jetfire: *snickerfit, will try to get up so he can go wash his foot*
Blackout: Get up here and do that in the wash racks. The Mini-Constructicons will take care of the puddle. *shaky flight up to the entrance to the house*
dJazz: *cackles all the way*
Jetfire: Aye, Blackout... *wobble wobble wobble after her*
Blackout: *wanders blankly down the hall and goes and sits herself and the mechs she's holding in the big tub of hot water. Content sigh as she sinks up to her chin*
Scorponok: *caaaan float! And sleeeeep*
Jetfire: *manages to make it to the washrack and under the spray*
dJazz: *surfaces and spits water, then snerks as Blackout teddy bear cuddles him* Dang, I know she's gonna fire my rusty old aft outta here in the mornin', but right now I'm just gonna enjoy this.
Jetfire: *snorts, and then he's snickering at the sound*
dJazz: *leans back against Blackout with a sigh, but then looks around* ...Where's that little silver slagger?
Jetfire: *is going to dangle Toyrt-Mow by his arm* Right 'eah, lad... *snicker* Can't be lettin' th' little pest run loose now, can we?
dJazz: Nope. *gives the drunkenly beeping Minicon a stern look, and then shifts his attention back to the happy old Seeker* What're you two celebratin', anyway?
Jetfire: *grin* A good battle.
dJazz: Details, mech. *slight o.0 as Blackout nuzzles his helm*
Jetfire: *as he moves to stick Toyrt-Mow under the spray* Took on Overkill 'n introduced th' git t' th' Boss. *Sagely nod*
dJazz: *blink* Which boss? And I thought you were under orders not ta kill people.
Jetfire: Primus... 'E gave us th' orders.
dJazz: ...You're slaggin' me.
Jetfire: Nay, lad.
dJazz: You got orders from our creator?
Jetfire: *nods and checks to see how clean Toyrt-Mow is*
Toyrt-Mow: *laughs and hails Blackout*
dJazz: ...And you're actin' like it was just old hat.
Jetfire: Well why not?
dJazz: Mech, Primus don't just talk ta everybody like I'm talkin' ta you. *stops* Wait... You're not tellin' me you're a Servant?
Jetfire: I ain't... I jes' knows 'un.
dJazz: ...Who? *sits up a little, but then stops as Blackout's arms tighten*
Jetfire: Tha's f'r me t' know, 'n you t' keep guessin' at. *snicker*
dJazz: *stink eye* You?
Jetfire: *gives dJazz a Look* Nay.
dJazz: I wanna know.
Jetfire: *Soft snort, glances to Blackout, asking with his optics for permission to speak of Hormah*
Blackout: *sleepy shrug as she leans back further, intent on passing out the rest in comfort*
Jetfire: *nods towards Blackout* 'Er kid, Hormah.
dJazz: Hormah... little orange thing?
Toyrt-Mow: *as Jetfire opens his mouth, adds sound effects!* BURRRRP
Jetfire: *nod* Aye. *gives Toyrt-Mow a raised brow ridge look, and considers shaking the punk to see if he can get any more funny noises*
Toyrt-Mow: [Hail Blackout!]
dJazz: ...That kid curses worse'n Ironhide useta.
Jetfire: *chuckle, sticks the overcharged Minicon under the spray again* Ain't prudent t' be judgin'... Servants don't have t' be all prim 'n proper 'n all that slag... 'Sides, th' lass's a good Destron.
dJazz: *as Toyrt-Mow backfires* Wouldn't know. Never met a Servant. Jes' heard stories. *leans back against Blackout with a sigh* You gonna find someplace ta pass out?
Jetfire: 'M considerin' it.... *streeeetches*
dJazz: What're you gonna do with him? *nods to Toyrt-Mow, who is ardently chanting his favorite phrase*
Jetfire: *slight headtilt* I've some tape... 'N a wall with 'nough room t' keep 'im outta trouble durin' th' down cycle....
dJazz: Heh. Sounds like a plan. *shuts his optics off and settles down into sleep mode*
Jetfire: *checks his foot to see whether it's clean. Then turns the spray off, dries Toyrt-Mow, and heads off for his quarters, telling the rookies over comms not to do anything fun without him as he goes*
((co-written with random_xtras))