“Oh, sorry.” gatecrasher says, somewhat sheepishly.
“You idiot!” Juliana says to Gatecrasher, 'You could have killed him!" She runs up to Thrift “A-are you alright?” She asks, with concern apparent on her face.
Thrift runs a hand over his face. His mouthplate was dented, and one of his eyes flickered briefly.
“Yeah… yeah, I’m okay,” he says, surprisingly cheerful. “Not the worst thing to ever hit me in the face.”
“that doesn’t surprise me” She says, looking unimpressed by his attempts to be stoic.
“we should get you to Forcep.”
“For a bruised mouthplate?” Thrift asks. “Nah; he’s got bigger troubles. Y’know, life-saving stuff.”
“your mouth is dented in and your eye is flickering. I guess we could try Facelift, but Forcep would be cheaper” She said. Attempting to appeal to his cheaper side.
“Yeah, and Forcep’s not a wacko!” Thrift adds. “If I need anybody workin’ on my, it ain’t gonna be the cyclops.”
“…Neither of 'em,” he adds, remembering that Shockwave had joined the crew last week.
'Your forgetting the third cyclops." She gestures to Blight, who was standing nearby.
'He’s a medic" She said, looking expectantly at Blight.
Driftburn nods, and begins detaching another cell,
“I assume I should detach all of these then replace them?”
Actaeon walks away,
“Let’s see if there’s a easy way of this hunk of metal!”
“Hopefully that’ll be the last time-” Blight started as he recovered his stance. “I’m trying to think of a clever door joke, but I’ve got nothing.”
Pixel falls to the ground and sits pleasantly, humming once again his little song.
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Thrift turns.
“Oh,” he flatly reacts.
“Yeah, I had one, but I kinda lost my train of thought when a big hunk of meta smacked me in the face,” Thrift chuckles.
“Yes,” Greasemonkey confirms. “Some of them got fused to the machine, however; I’d advise caution in attempting to remove those.”
Salvation had no shortage of airlocks, and her thirty hangar bays were all operational.
“So, you had one until you got hit and made that ADOORable face?” She tries to keep a straight face.
“Pfft!” snorts Blight. “You’ve got an entire train for your thought? Mine’s more of a handcar, really.”
“Not gonna lie, that was quite acceptable.”
Thrift gives both Juliana and Blight a polite round of applause. He’d smile, but he didn’t really have a mouth.
“So, uh… there’s your door,” he says awkwardly, pointing to the ancient slab of metal laying near the Antillian Sunrise.
“yes so it is.” Replied Juliana. She walks into the bar and yells “Hey! Mr. Halfrunner! Your door is here!”
Meanwhile, Gronius was still in the Antilian Sunrise, drinking his Energon beer, watching the conversations around him.
Some of the patrons were talking of strange happenings in hangar thirty-one.
“Yep,” a neutral says. “It just sprang to life and started fixing itself all of a sudden.”
“You’re pulling my leg,” her Decepticon friend replies. “Ships can’t do that.”
“This one does, apparently.”
Halfrunner looks up from the bar.
“It is? Great!” he cheers, vaulting over the bar, transforming to truck mode, and rolling out to the sidewalk outside the bar.
Gronius softly transformed to dragon mode and slowly approached his dragon head by the two.
The two frown, and turn to stare at the bestial head that was intruding upon their conversation and their personal space.
“Something we can help you with, son?” the Decepticon asks.
“Nah I was just looking over there.” he said pointing to a random direction.
The neutral nods.
“Ah,” she reacts.
The Decepticon huffs.