re_alignment_logs | (no subject)

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.

"You guys are so silly. Seriously. But thank you. This really does mean a lot to me." She finally slides out of the puffy embrace for the time being so she can pull the lid off a can of peaches.

"And thanks, Wing. This is more than enough."

Good to them? All she ever does is loaf around them and make Drift drive her around. Generally make a pest of herself.

"Jeez, you're gonna make me blush." Actually she already is just slightly red in the face, but who's counting. It's really damn nice of them. Nice to feel this wanted.

"Do they really?" Wing tilts his head. "Well she's definitely puffy... Is pink an intimidating color to Earth creatures then?"

He grins at Vandal. "I'm glad, enjoy." It's good to see her in better spirits, though he wishes he knew how to better take care of her physically.

"If you change your mind please just let me know." Really Vandal, is eating more a thing you should do? Wing isn't sure but he's starting to suspect!

"Oh! Well then you'd match the comforter." She kind of does already, but oh... "So then it is protective camouflage!"

She doesn't seem to understand how important that is, at least to Drift--to be useful, to be needed. Most Cybertronians would be glad to see him dead, if they felt anything about his death at all. Being wanted at any level was something new and precious.

"Human females seem to prefer it on Earth. Maybe they need it for some reason." Right. He's going to turn this one over to Vandal. Explain pink!

There was something weird about eating alone: he'd felt odd about it when he was tiny; he felt odd now. So he reached for some fuel, holding it out. "I think it's Wing's turn for the toast?"

Okay, okay, she really can't help but laugh this time.

"No, it's just a color. And uh. I guess it's sorta associated with females. Some who are into that," She was never really much of a girly girl, so it's all the same to her, "Gender isn't really a thing for you guys though, so I'm gonna save that conversation for another day."

Wing gets a 'bitch, please' look laced with a smile before she turns and nods to Drift.

"I agree. Wing? If you would do the honors."

Laughter is good and he loves hearing it. That in and of itself is thanks enough.

"Not really, no." Though recent events have made this a little less clear to him. "I think so anyway? I had a conversation about this with Slipstream but I'm still not sure I understand it."

He has to snicker at Vandal's look; it's nice the way they can freely sling sass and there's no hard feelings.

"My turn? Ah, well alright." Wing takes the decanter from Drift and pours some for the both of them,(he figures they can get into the highgrade later). He lets Vandal pour her own; he's already learned the hard way how difficult getting those little caps off is for Cybertronian hands. ~~He never wants to see Vandal cry again.~~

Wing takes up his glass after handing the other to Drift. "Let's see, shall we drink to, 'firm friendships forged in unfamiliar places...and treasure found admist trash'?"

"We have a pink mech, er...one of us. Arcee." The look on his face says Arcee is not a good thing.

Drift hopes to keep this trend of foisting the toast off onto someone more eloquent going. But he's taking notes for the day his luck runs out.

He gives a smiling nod, raising his container of energon.

"More than friendships," he adds, quietly, meaning both of them.

"Ah well, honestly it's been something my species has been trying to get away from so there's nothing lost for you guys honestly."

She looks between the both of them at the toast, lifting her glass.

"Here, here!" Talk about nothing intelligent to add. Whatever. She's happy. This is a happy thing and nothing can really spoil it for her. Moments like this are so fleeting, she'll cling to it for all she's worth. So she eats her peaches and drinks the whiskey and basks in the presence of two of her favorite bots.

"You guys are fuckin wonderful. Outta' this world, seriously. I couldn't ask for better company."

And she's about ten seconds away from suggesting a game.

"Get away from? You mean gender distinction?" As far as he understood members of the human race had very specialized equipment...why wouldn't one want to tell them apart?" Or do you mean pink being girly?"

Wing smiles brightly as Drift's addition, both at the other mech and at Vandal, before taking a healthy draw on his energon.

This is, well, 'nice' doesn't even really cover it. He missed moments like this from home the most, the social camaraderie between good friends that shared deep bonds. As nice as big parties or gatherings are, this is what Wing finds most rewarding.

"I do aim to please." Which is true all of the time, but for these two it's even more important to get it right.

Wing would probably agree to a game...and then remember who he's talking to and wonder what he's gotten himself into.

"...if it did away with stupid floofy skirts, maybe not a bad thing," Drift grumbles. Oh that outfit. It had looked so cute in his mind: was so miserable in reality.

He takes a long sip of his drink, feeling the energon warm its way down his fuel lines, just adding an aura glow to the moment. This was what peace should be like. This was what he was fighting for.

"Well, you know. Humans, originally had to reproduce sexually. Tab A, slot B, but uh. Not so much anymore? There's enough of us that it doesn't matter, and we can genetically engineer children now, too. So gender roles and stuff don't really have a use."

There's a beat as she settles back down from actually talking about something that might make her look socially aware.

"And it was a cute skirt, Drift. Very cute." She offers him a very wry smile, making it obvious she's teasing him.

"That's interesting. Admittedly that's because it's entirely foreign, but I think that's the fun part of learning about alien cultures. It tends to broaden your mind or shift your perspective."

"But uh...." His optics jump between Drift and Vandal and back again. "....floofy skirts?"

Yup, That's one heck of a look Wing is giving you Drift.

"I gather this is something I missed?"

"Still doesn't explain the clothes. Unless the whole point was to take one gender and make it uncomfortable." Nope. He's never getting over that. "Hope you did away with that stuff."

Frag. "Uh. Long story. It was during the, uh, the pages thing."

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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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/wants to make the Arcee joke and can't IC. LOL!

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Man I have serious need for proper a o_O icon.

http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/110193111/34212008 like this?