Welp~

[seekerfemme]

who: Slipstream and the Fallen
when: Tuesday night
where: Deceptibase and...elsewhere. Probably.
warnings: probably violence. yelling. punching.
summary: Slipstream is unhappy at people looking like people she knows. And unhappy in general. The Fallen is trollin.
format: wev. 8U

Slipstream was displeased with her life. To say the least. One new Import had looked almost exactly like Vector, another had Terrorsaur's face. And then Shockwave's post about Soundwave...

Yeah, she was unhappy.

And unhappy meant that she was sprawled on the couch watching a marathon of A Single Potato and drinking wine. There were a few empty bottles around her already.

Comments

[trialbyfiretank.livejournal.com]

Though the Fallen had yet to meet any Vector-lookalikes, he would at least not be fooled by physical resemblance alone. You didn't spend eons fighting your kin without getting to know them extremely well. For the moment, he wasn't looking to make any new friends anyway - he already had plenty of acquaintances to harass.

A bottle clattered onto its side as he teleported into Slipstream's apartment in his usual fashion: completely unannounced and without invitation. At least the sound of glass hitting the floor was more of a warning than she would have normally received.

He kicked the bottle aside, frowning.

"You've been redecorating, I see."

[seekerfemme]

She growled in response, not even feeling like performing their normal greeting ritual. There weren't that many empties. Not from today, at least. Yesterday's were still..around. YEah? Yeah.

"What do you want."

[trialbyfiretank.livejournal.com]

Fallen was still for a moment, waiting for her to launch out of the couch and assault him in what had become their standard greeting. It never came.

Clearly, the former mechanoid wasn't feeling her best. (As if the small fortress of empty bottles she'd built around her spot on the couch hadn't already told him as much.)

"Nothing more so than usual, jet," he said, picking his way through the debris towards the couch. "Is there a particular reason you're drinking yourself into a case of alcohol poisoning?"

[seekerfemme]

"To annoy the frag out of me, then?"

Either she was biding her time, or just didn't care today. Honestly, Slipstream hadn't decided yet.

When he approached the couch, she shoved pillows and junk aside to make a space for him. Maybe she just wanted company. Cybertronian company. Sniff.

[trialbyfiretank.livejournal.com]

"Merely repaying the favour." He took the seat next to her without hesitation. It was somewhat unusual for any Decepticon to be welcoming, but on the other hand he was used to getting respect: turning a section of their armor into molten slag cured most mechs of their bad attitude.

Whatever he was about to say next died in his throat as he noticed the soap opera she was watching. His frown deepened. There wasn't much appeal in most human television programs for an ancient Cybertronian.

"... what is this?"

[seekerfemme]

Yes, and it wasn't like she had any armor in this fleshy form to melt. If she survived any melting on his part, she'd be far less likely to tolerate him in any way in the future. Clearly.

"Something Starscream and Blitzwing used to watch. Blitzwing tried to map out the plots once," she replied, waving an arm in the direction of the living room wall that was covered with a web of strings wrapped around different pins. She'd thought about taking it down, but well. Hadn't felt like it.

"They're very intricate. Amusing."