Barrage was unsure of if he should go along, but the white one seemed happy, and he didn’t want to ruin that. Against his better judgment, he decided to join them.
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“Please, just call me Maccadam,” the barkeep says as he shakes Stonefist’s hand. “Now, what can I do for you on this auspicious night?”
After a while, the fans begin to disperse. Most of them are polite enough to thank Firestorm for his time and bid him farewell as they go to other parts of the city.
The shopkeep seems to be of the eager-to-please sort, taking a few different servos off of the store shelf to show to the robot. He tells the robot which ones are of the best quality, which ones are cheapest, which ones he thought were only good for feeding sharkitcons as scrap metal, and so on.
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Graves
The cigar falls from Graves’ mouth. “Uh, name’s Graves,” he says. There was a cat-man inside the cat-man…
Zip and Cargo
“Alright, good luck,” Cargo says with a nod.
Zip looks at Kitai’s moth wings one last time and shrugs. “See ya.”
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Sniff
Well, at least all the absurdly loud noise made it nice and easy to think about all the impending wealth issues with the finances spent on this travesty. Or had they pooled already reserved finances to accomplish this nonsense? That would be the financially responsible maneuver, but it was doubtful this is what they had actually done, seeing as the same fine citizens which commandeered society were now willfully standing around a sea of obnoxious lights and blinding colors making as much noise as possible for no other reason than they can.
…Alright, he had to admit it. He was bored to tears. One of the few times he was actually out and about in society and he had absolutely nothing to show for it; normally he was so peculiar going out demanded everyone stare at him, and now, nobody was watching him at all.
What an outrageous waste of energon. Conjoint’s eyes traveled the crowds, searching for someone to take his mind off of… other thoughts.
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Firestorm keeps discussing with the humans for as long as they feel comfortable.
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Conjoint might spy a human man by the Salvation memorial, looking just as miserable as the junkion felt. Clad in a black coat and sporting sharp features, the man surveys the ongoing celebration around him with a disdainful look on his face.
“Have you kept in touch with any of the old crew?” one human asks. “The ones you fought the Heralds with, I mean?”
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With the vibrant hues and palettes of a ceremonious crowd, the dark outfit and sullen demeanor stuck out like a sore thumb. Conjoint stared in silence at the little figure, sincerely dumbfounded that anyone could be as miserable as him right now.
What a gift.
Something stirred in his mind about how misery loves company, and nothing quite cures a bad mood like infecting everyone around you with it and ruining all of their collective day. Sideways wheels popped out of the undersides of his feet and he slowly wheeled over, arms still folded behind his back, but eyes gleaming with anticipation of a mildly entertaining time.
“I’ve got a monopoly on the bad mood, pal.”
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The man looks up at Conjoint as he approaches, looking perhaps amused by the remark. He has dark eyes with hair to match, with a pale complexion suggesting that maybe he didn’t get out much.
“Oh really?” he says flatly. “My mistake. I’m so dreadfully sorry to be- what, stealing your thunder, or something?”
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“Might not be the only thing stolen tonight.” Conjoint replied, eyeing the black coat with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not selling watches, are you? Most bots here know what time it is, anyway.”
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“Yeah, I try to keep in touch with them.” He says, “we’re all so busy that it’s often quite the challenge to meet up and chat.”
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“Well this is a bar, right?” Stonefist stated loudly. “What have you got to drink?”
Aralysa smiled.
“Ol’ Maccadam here has got all sorts of drinks.” she told her rocky companion.
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They picked one of the higher quality options. Taking it off the shelf and turning to the shop-keep.
“So, you have any idea what’s going on out there? Never seen a place this lively before.”
“Graves huh? You sound like the life of the party.”
Niko replied sarcastically.
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“Let’s not go there,” Graves says defensively. “I will have you know that I am known to be exceptional at parties, and I do an enviable Macarena, but right now, I happen to be, uh-” He fumbles for his back pocket and draws out a pair of silver-tinted sunglasses. “I happen to be on duty right now.”
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“No, nothing like that,” the man says, more humored by the suggestion than offended. “I’m not a thief or a con artist. I’m just a traveler, and my travels have taken me to Cybertron tonight.”
“I’ll bet,” the human replies. “You think any of them are here in Iacon today? Besides Axis, of course.”
“She’s right,” Maccadam says proudly. “Anything you want, I can whip up for you.”
“It’s only the most important day in the last five thousand years,” the shopkeep says. “The exile’s over. You been living in an asteroid, or something?”
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Conjoint stared blankly at him for a moment, his red eyes stunned by the statement, and then swiveled his head about to look at the bright lights and obnoxious sounds of the festival, the bane of his very existence, still just as bright and obnoxious as they had been seconds ago.
“You came here on purpose? For this?”
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“It’s strange. I… don’t really know what I’m supposed to do.” XM-333 replied. “I was told to… take a break and relax?”
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“Not quite,” says the traveler. “My ship needs repairs, and I happened to be passing through this system.”
He rolls up a sleeve to check something on a wrist-computer. Apparently dissatisfied with the machine’s report, he pulls his sleeve back over the device.
“Unfortunately, it seems I’m going to be here a while.”
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“On duty huh? So what do you do then?”
Niko asked curiously.
“More or less.”
The robot replied.
“Like I said, I’m not from around here.”
“Yeah man. Like I said its a party. Now is the time to take a load off and leave your worries at the door.”
Low-Tide said with a smile.
“And lucky for you man, you’ve happened to make friends with the guru of chill himself. Stick with me and you’ll be relaxed in no time.”
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The sunglasses did little to hide Graves’ sudden deeply suspicious expression. “Why do you want to know?”
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“Heh.” Conjoint adjusted a collar that didn’t exist. “You Humans really missed out on the whole self-customization process. Best you can do is whistle while you wait.”
With those last few words, The wheels under Conjoint’s feet stirred up a small cloud as he made a large circle and slipped off into the crowd.
Well, that was a complete waste of time and personal spark. Idiot doesn’t even want to fester glumly on his own emotions! Why even be horribly upset if you’re not even going to stew about it? Conjoint rubbed his forehead. Next time I go to one of these places I need to shut my optics off, because I’ve got a killer headache now.
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