re_alignment_logs | (no subject)

"There you go again, being too hard on yourself," She says, tapping her fingers against the dash in admonishment.

"Yeah. Never had so many friends before. And they're all fucking awesome Cybertronians, too." Notice she didn't use the 'R' word? She's working on being more PC. They aren't robots. They're living beings who think and feel.

"Yeah, I'm still good for a few more hours. You wanna have a few drinks? Maybe listen to some music or whatever? I could pick out a movie you haven't see. I think you'd dig The Last Samurai. Just a hunch."

"Just realistic," Drift says. His tires sweep easily around a curve, onto the first bridge into Vector's palace proper. The place wasn't really designed for non-flyers, and sometimes he thinks it's a matter of time before he's asked to leave, but for right now he's determined to enjoy what he has. It's only fair if that's the advice he has for Vandal that he do the same thing.

"You deserve friends, Vandal." Statement of fact.

"We could do that.I don't have any of your human alcohol, though, so...any ideas?" Maybe she'd suggest Wing. Who knew? "I'd like anything if you wanted to do it, Vandal."

"Just a dork," Vandal corrects, peering out the window as they near the temple.

She smiles settling back down for the rest of the ride. There's something incredibly comforting in sitting here while he drives. Being in motion. The hum of machinery, and knowing that machinery has your back.

"Oh don't worry. I always bring a little something." Probably not... healthy.

"We'll figure something you, you big pushover."

"If you say so; you're the expert." He's not even sure what that is supposed to mean, but it sounds--he hopes--playful enough.

He doesn't take the fastest way to his quarters: that would be way too obvious. Plus, it's nice out and though he's driving slowly enough, it's still fun to move through the labyrinth of bridges.

Also, it was buying Wing time.

Well, that settles that, then. he thinks, as he finally sweeps into the hallways of Vector's place. Next stop, his room.

"Darn right I am." She has no idea but she just goes with it because that's just how they talk. It's meandering and there's not always a point but it's good anyways because it's just them.

She wonders briefly, as they head down the hall, if it's rude to drive inside? Like not taking your shoes off or something? The thought entertains her until they arrive.

When Drift had come to him with this idea he'd been immediately sold. There wasn't a whole lot of time to pull it all together, but it was just enough. It's lucky that in recent weeks Wing had spent a lot of time scavenging alcohol in the Junk Pile for the bar, because that meant he came across a number of other nice things in the process.

He'd stumbled across what looked like the contents of someone's linen chest, (apparently this was a place humans stashed their booze?) and found a blanket that he could only call relentlessly fluffy: no matter what he'd done to it, it just poofed right back up again. It'd been airing out on his balcony for a week, and they'd both decided it'd make a great gift for Vandal. He'd wrapped it and an equally fluffy pillow (the only one in decent condition) in another sheet of remarkably festive fabric and tied the corners in a knot.

He'd also raided the food stores at the Hub and grabbed three cans of peaches at Drift's direction--Wing had contributed enough he had no guilt in taking his pick at this point. He also grabbed a few refreshments--not a lot--but enough to be sociable with. All of this was spread over the table, and from his own room he brought his own stool and a small crate for Vandal to sit on.

Wing intended to stay the night, so his Great Sword had already found a home against one wall. It struck him as nice: that the sword was starting to have a 'usual' place when he was here. It makes him smile as he sits in quiet anticipation, listening for sounds out in the hall.

For all Drift knows, it could be rude to drive inside, but no one's stopped him yet. Then again that may be a reflection on the way he drove.

"All right," Drift said, slowing outside his door, as the door itself opened to his ping, "We've arrived." He could tell, even from the first glimpse of the room, that Wing was there, and succeeded in his plans. Because that bundle of flowery fabric? NOT HIS. Just, you know, for the record.

He's not sure of the etiquette here: normally he transforms before entering his quarters. It's up to her.

Vandal is happy enough to hop out and pat Drift on the hood, signal that he's safe to transform without mashing her up inside.

She goes on ahead and scampers inside, peering around. Something is different. It looks like they're having a party or something. Though she can't see much from where she stands.

She isn't entirely surprised to see Wing, but his presence is an extra treat. She grins up at him.

"Hey there, Tweety."

Wing stands to greet her with a smile, giving a small bow. "Evening Karrie. A pleasure as always."

He loves being formal with her. It's kinda of a game by now, because it often gets her kind of flustered--which is really cute--and it's a fun juxtaposition to her usually loose and bawdy mannerisms.

Drift transforms, offering a shy grin at Wing. Wing was so much better at these things. He'd never have managed half of this himself, so his smile is one of gratitude as it is pleasure.

"Huh," Drift says, trying to sound disappointed. "Guess we can't talk about Wing behind his back anymore."

"Pfffffffffff okay, Sir Wing." Yep. Right on queue. She sort of sucks her head a little, chuckling before Drift pipes up.

"Yeah I guess not, huh?" She shoots them both a teasing look.

"Okay, come on you guys. Spill- what's this all about?" She feels like she's missing something here.

Well, 'Sir Wing' does sound kind of nice he has to admit.

He can't hide the curious flick of his pinions at Drift's comment. He's about to don a sly smile when he realizes how much Vandal knows, and his expression turns to a silent plea, What did you tell him?. Granted, he'd given her leave to do so, to Drift only, but he wasn't expecting it so soon. He's a little...unprepared.

Wing coughs to clear an intake, then grins at Vandal's keen observation. He looks up at Drift. "We're caught apparently. I suppose we should just get right to it." The glance he directs to the bundle tells Drift all the other mech needs to know: 'It was your idea, I set the stage for you, it's your turn to wow her.'

The look on Wing's face makes Drift realize there must be a lot of juicy stuff Vandal hadn't told him. She was holding out on him! Not. Fair.

Still, Drift is all about trying. So he shall fish for info. Subtly. "Yeah, you know. We both had a good laugh about that one time you did that thing...with that other thing." He tried to make it sound completely salacious.

"Oh.Uh. Right." There was a reason Drift hid behind Rodimus most of the time on the Lost Light: he wasn't great in the limelight. Unless the limelight needed stabbing. "Uh. We just thought, you know. To cheer you up. Things." Hands. Wing, HELP!

She can only laugh as they do the little metaphorical awkward dance around each other. She'd cut in, but it's far too funny to watch.

"Things?" She echoes dubiously, quirking an eyebrow.

"I needed cheering up?" Well, actually she did. Really. But she'll sound surprised anyways because she's ~~tsundere as fuck~~ just like that.

Wing can dance to this tune. ...well mostly.

"Oh, ah, well..." he coughs again through his intakes, "It's a shame you didn't get to the part about those things I've always wanted to do with, I don't know...someone." That's...not not exactly an innocent look he's giving Drift. The part about it being a shame seems to be true though.

And Vandal won't get away that easily. "But I'm sure you told her about that time when we, you know," have a truly vague hand motion, "in that place."

But clandestine snark is not exactly something Wing excels at, so there's a smirk growing over is face. His wing panels quiver as he bites back a laugh.

"Cheering up! Yes, Drift likes to see you happy Karrie, as do I. We have something we hoped you might like?" He gestures to the bundle on the floor, "Pardon the presentation, I was in a bit of a rush."

"Oh I told her all about that." An airy wave of the hand. He totally sort of did. Alluded to it. Strongly.

"And I don't know if I could handle you. You know, WIng, with that time that apparently that thing got, you know, stuck like that.?" He has no idea what he's saying and he's really losing any ability he had to have a straight face.

He turns back to Vandal. Right. Save him from his composure-meltodwn, Vandal! "Yeah, we just wanted to, you know, we just want to see you happy. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

...is there?

Well now she's definitely bright red. The vague drunken conversation wafting back into her memory. She has to cover her mouth with one hand to keep her own composure.

Fucking silly, endearing goddamn robots.

"You guys got me a gift-" She shouldn't be surprised. Really. She shouldn't, because that's how they both are. But here she is feeling a complete lack of words.

"No there's. Nothing wrong with that. You really didn't have to though. I uh. Jeez." She smiles up at both of them, faltering for a moment before approaching the large bundled gift. It certainly looks poofy. Another glance between the two bots before she finally goes about the careful task of unwrapping it.

"A down comforter."

A nice one, too. A rare find for this place.

"I uh. Wow. I don't really know what to say. I mean other than thank you, but that seems too-" Inadequate.

"C'mere I want to hug both of you motherfuckers."

"Oh I don't know Drift, I think you can handle me any way you want." He barely gets it out before dissolving into snickers, and well, laughter is better when shared aloud anyway.

Wing's grin doesn't lessen as Vandal goes to open her gift. "I sure hope not, because then I'm a whole lot of wrong." The comforter is big, bigger than she really needs, in a very attractive print. There appears to be a pillow included as well, in the same print, but with a dark chocolate colored ruffle.

"I...hope it's good, useful to you? I wasn't sure really. But, it's just so..." his hands flex in front of him, as the word 'fluffy' just wasn't adequate. "I thought it must be good for something." Other than being a novelty to a giant metal robot.

Hugs? By any means! "Well since you ask so nicely." He flashes Drift a smile of shared triumph
as he moves to Vandal's side, out stretching a hand to each of them as he kneels down to a more accessible level.

So, Drift figures he's discovered yet another way Wing outmatches him. Just like in sparring, in Outrageous Flirtation, Wing has him cornered.

His response is less than dignified, more like an awkward choking sound as his mind went places. Kinky places. Right. Concentrate. Fluffy blanket.

"Why does it have food on it?" Food was for eating. Not sleeping under. Humans made no sense sometimes. "But it kind of matches the food box I found for you, at least."

"I, uh, you don't have to hug me. This is all Wing's stuff."

Vandal trots over, looping her arms around Wing's neck in what hug she can manage. They're hard to hug unless they're like. Laying down. And even then. It's a conundrum that she's long since lamented.

"It's a cute print. You can get fabric in all sorts of prints, food is far from the strangest, believe me," She gives Wing a peck on the strip of armor that covers his nose before turning to Drift and shaking her head, "Come on Drift, accept the hug. Don't make me have to climb you. Or worse."

She gives him that knowing grin.

Wing is taking advantage of the situation, dropping comments like that without fear of the potentially embarrassing reprisals or questions that could follow. It's truly unfair, and it'd serve him right if it came back to haunt him later.

And he needs to stop thinking about all the 'things' that could apply to Drift's statement because it's still making him snicker.

The jet accepts Vandal's embrace with a delicate hand to her back and a brush of his crest against her hair, the gentle peck eliciting a pleased chirr from him.

"That's food? I thought it was symbolic. Like fluffy things on...other fluffy things?" He shrugs, sometimes he feels like he's learned a lot about human culture...then little things like this prove him wrong.

"But if it weren't for you Drift this would still be hung over my balcony doing no one any good at all." The jet grins and his tone grows teasing. "Now who in their right mind doesn't accept--" Oh wait. Suddenly he thinks he needs to know what 'or worse' means.

"Human food. It's apparently sweet." Not that he knows. But he does know 'sweet' now, thanks to canned peaches. "So I guess it's sweet things on fluffy things. Or something."

His optics widen at her threat. She totally wouldn't tickle him. Not here. Not in front of Wing, where he'd turn into a thrashing, wriggling, embarrassing mass of giggles.

On second thought, she totally would.

"All right! All right!" He drops down to one knee, fast, throwing an around both her and Wing, so that her tickling hands are facing the other way.

Strategy!

She'd correct them, but honestly it's incredibly cute to hear them speculate on the reasoning behind cupcake print.

At any rate, her threat appears to have worked as she's scooped up against Drift, who also gets a kiss on the nose. She just laughs and pats him on the crest of his helm comfortingly.

"That's more like it."

She's refined the art of tickle-threat down to an art.

"Sweet and fluffy." He's had experiences with things that he'd qualify as sweet in Crystal City--both of which he misses dearly--but he's pretty sure that's a whole different thing compared to what humans consider sweet.

The look on Drift's face is near priceless and Wing is more than a little disappointed that Vandal doesn't make good on her threat. Still, he grins when Drift descends to throw an arm around both of them and in the wake of Vandal's kiss with another pleased chirr he bumps his forecrest affectionately against the other mech's.

"I managed to sneak by the Hub for some refreshments too, if you're hungry."

"I guess it's supposed to mean that whoever owns it is sweet and fluffy...?" He's trying to sound like he knows, because he's been on Earth, so clearly he should know.

Wing might find the look amusing: wait till Vandal unleashes her tickling hands on him! Then they'll see who's laughing.

Wait, probably both of them.

He doesn't mind the hug, or the kiss on the nose. But if she starts the bunny song again, there may be problems.

He looks up over her shoulder at Wing. "What kind of refreshments?" Maybe something other than straight alcohol, he hopes.

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Shall we poke Wing-mun? Wing can tag in after Vandal and before Drift or after Drift or whatever

Sure he can tag in after Van!

/slams down wall of text like a boss. Brevity? What is THAT!? BT

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