re_alignment_logs | (no subject)

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.

She can only laugh, watching them assign way too much meaning to textile print. It really is fucking adorable, and she won't correct them.

"Something like that, yeah."

Don't worry, Wing. She'll probably jump him later anyway, just for funsies.

"Wow- yeah I could eat." Jeez, what is it, her birthday? This is a lot of ado for 'just because', but she's not going to snub it in that respect. She loves them both, and this is more than she could have asked for.

Though once her feet are back on the ground she does have. SOme business to attend to, walking back over to the comforter she'd been gifted with, taking it and unfolding it.

It's definitely big.

"One sec. I gotta test this." And she does, pulling it around herself until she's just a mass of moving blanket and only her feet are visible.

"Yes," She concludes, her words muffled by the layers, "It's very comfortable."

"That must be it!" And she is...in her own way.

And in a very literal way with that comforter wrapped around her. Wing laughs as she envelopes herself, pleased that the gift could go over so well.

"There's standard fuel, some highgrade if we want it. Plus water, and what little is left in that whiskey bottle. Assuming the label doesn't lie, quality should make up for quantity?" Wing stands and gestures to the table where all this is laid out, including the cans of peaches. That's Drift's area though; Wing had just asked what might be good to grab if he got the chance. "Among other things."

See? Drift figured that out on his own. He gives a satisfied nod.

"Is that how you use it? I thought it was a sort of recharge berth thing." Then again, Drift's hardly a fashionista, based on his own experience with clothes.

Peaches and whiskey. Sounds...nutritious. Actually it sounds very, very Vandal.

"Standard for me. But don't let that stop you." Because drunk Wing, it seems, is a thing he should see.

"It's a bed thing, yeah. But I'm like. Testing it or whatever." She stands, taking the comforter with her, which makes her look like a walking mass of pink.

"Well. You know me. All about good whiskey." With some doing, she climbs up on the crate set out for her and peers over the table's edge.

"Holy shit you guys got me peaches. What did I do to deserve you both?"

"I guess it works as good standing as it does laying down..." Wing shrugs, even if only Drift can see it, "Though it seems like it'd get in the way a lot like that."

Wing is no expert in human nutrition, Grey's Anatomy doesn't exactly cover those things. "If there's something else you need or want, I can easily fetch it--or something similar I hope--as long as it's not in large quantity. I have access to the inventory for the food stores at the Hub, I can withdraw within reason.

At her last question Wing just shrugs again, as if it's obvious. "You're just you, Karrie. Isn't that enough?"

"Huh. That makes sense. Maybe it's also, like, protective camouflage or something. You know, the way some organic creatures puff up to try to look intimidating."

Because that sure is puffy.

"You're good to us?" Does there need to be a reason? If so, Drift fails at articulating it.

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Short tag cuz I'm runnin' out the door! BV

blurf i had drama when I got home so x_x

/patpats

It's all good!

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