1363/Drinks and Espionage

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught scans the outskirts of Stanix as if they owe him money. Or perhaps his optics need readjustment after so long spent studying history texts. He turns, looking to see if Blast Off is in the area.

**Blast Off has posed:**
Oh, Blast Off is. Give him a chance to spend time with Onslaught and he's there, he's so totally \*there\*. The shuttleformer stands next to his Boss- and object of his affection- and looks up at him. "I think this is where the Mimic's... hideout or gravlift or whatever was supposed to be." He looks down at a datapad. "Looks like it's our turn to watch and see if anyone notable shows up." So, basically stakeout duty. Of course, it's also right near Macaddams, and Blast Off already wishes he had grabbed a drink.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught nods, grunting softly. "Wonderful," he says, sounding like he might almost mean that. He glances toward Macaddams. "Since this is a stakeout, we should blend better with our surroundings, don't you think? There's outside tables, isn't there?"

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off perks up. "Uh... yes! Yes, there are." Maybe he'll get a drink out of this after all. The shuttleformer scans the area, finally settling on a small covered patio with good views on the corner and pointing to it. It seems the right mix of out-of-the-way inconspicuous and yet all-seeing.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught nods, decisively. "Good, we'll retire to the patio and order drinks," he says. "No sense standing around when we can adequately view our surroundings in relatve comfort." He chuckles. "I'll leave the leader's share of watching up to you, though. You've got better optics than I do."

**Blast Off has posed:**
"Wonderful!", Blast Off echoes Onslaught as they make their way to the patio. After they've sat down, Blast Off smiles under his faceplate and taps at the purple light above his optics. "No problem, as the sniper of our team I'd say I can see pretty far... of course this sensor helps me lock on a target, but you knew that." A bartender comes up and asks for their order, at which Blast Off looks expectantly at Onslaught, letting him order first.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught nods, acknowledging Blast Off's skill and abilities. "I'll have a half-drum of energon, with a chaser of Nightmare Fuel and a basket of Cobalt Crunchies, should you have them," he says to the bartender. "And whatever my companion would like. Finest you have for him. He deserves it."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Onslaught, you're gonna make the shuttle blush. His cheeks seem to turn rosy-colored and he looks down a moment before gaining the nerve to look back up at the bartender. Somehow the usually egostistical shuttleformer has no idea what to do with said ego when somebody like Onslaught really praises him.

"Just... just a glass of Orion Three Orchards rose quartz if you have it." The mech nods and leaves as Blast Off seems to smile up at his leader. "Flatterer..." He teases, then teases some more. "Cobalt crunchies? Really?" He still can't believe Onslaught likes that stuff!

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught is either oblivious to Blast Off's blushing -- or he's doing this because he likes to see the shuttle flush. "I tell only the truth," he says, gruffly. "You are an excellent soldier, a supreme sniper and Cobalt Crunchies are the finest snack ever made. You should try some."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Yep, Blast Off is definitely blushing. "I... thank you." He scratches the top of his faceplate a moment, "Well, I was trained by you, so I suppose it's not surprising I'd be good." Then the sniper looks back at Onslaught and lifts an optic ridge, humor edging into his cultured voice. "Finest snack \*ever\* made, eh? That's claiming quite a lot..."

The bartender comes back with drinks and Blast off happily accepts his enerwine, making sure to keep glancing over where they're supposed to be watching... though with Onslaught there his optics keep gliding back to gaze at his Boss.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught nods his thanks to the bartender as he takes his drink and the garishly colored plastic-foil bag that contains Cobalt Crunchies. "Finest snack \*ever\* made," he says, pointing to the slogan on teh bag. "See? Says it right there. Do you think the company's lying?" His optics brighten just a bit with humor.

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off's optic ridge remains lifted as he places his chin on a hand, elbow on the table, giving his Commander a flat look. The humor is still there in his voice, however, as he replies, "A big corporation exaggerating on advertizing in order to sell their product? /Perish the thought/." He finally has to chuckle a little bit, places his hands on the edge of the table and leans in to peer at the bag. "Well... alright, so... what are they? Sweet? Salty? Anything \*that\* color cannot be natural and healthy in any way, shape, or form..."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught chuckles. "Oh, they're not healthy but they are \*good\*," he says. 'I think they're best described as a mix of sweet with savory, perhaps a touch of sourness. Or, well, not sour, but tangy. Yes, tangy." He pushes the bag closer to Blast Off. "Go on, one won't kill you. Er...provided you don't have an internal injuries you haven't mentioned?"

**Blast Off has posed:**
That optic ridge just lifts further and Blast Off stares at the bag like Onslaught's asking him to eat turbo-cat food. The shuttleformer squints and eventually reaches over to very slowly, gingerly \*boop\* the bag like it might come to life and try to eat HIM or something. Then, still slowly, he taps at one of the pieces inside. Still nothing jumps out or bites him, imagine that. "I'm perfectly healthy!," he insists, "...and I'd like to stay that way..."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught chuckles at the \*boop\*. "You will, you will," he says, reaching otu to pat Blast Off's hand. "The amount you'd have to eat to have a negative effect would be, well, it'd be heroic. 'Vortex on a bender' levels of heroic."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off freezes at the contact, staring down to where Onslaught's big hand touches his. Yep, more blushing going on. His violet optics lift to seek contact with Onslaught's. "That's... pretty extreme amounts of herioc," he seems to grin. The shuttleformer hesitates a bit more, then glances around to see that no one else is nearby.

He seems to deliberate a moment before the faceplate \*clicks\* off and Blast Off's dark face is revealed, mouth drawn into a dubious sort of pucker to the side. "Hmm." Another glance to the bigger Combaticon and Blast Off finally reaches to take a piece and hold it close to his face, studying it.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught nods. "Indeed," he says, hand still staying on Blast Off's. He chuckles as Blast Off studies the crunchy. "Would you like to go back to base and run it under the scanning electron microscope?"

**Blast Off has posed:**
The longer that hand stays on his, the more obvious the blushing on the shuttleformer's dark cheeks becomes. Not that he's pulling that hand away or anything, oh no. The other hand remains held in front of his face. He looks quite serious as he studies it, but Onslaught's question cracks that armor and he can't help but laugh. Short and brief, but it definitely happens. Tucking his chin down as if extremely embarrassed now, he grins. "No... no, I trust you not to lead me astray."

He lifts the piece towards his mouth, only pausing to quip, "Just rememember, if I die, I'm never speaking to you again." Ha ha get it? Then he pops the thing into his mouth- finally. And chews. And chews. Thoughtfully.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught's optics flicker. "Oh, I'll lead you astray," he says. "But, you'll enjoy it -- I hope." He chuckles as Blast Off prepares to pop the crunchy into his mouth. "If you die, I'll never touch them again." He pauses for a beat or two. "And we'll raize the factory to the ground. It'll be dust before your paint fades"

**Blast Off has posed:**
Oho~! Both of Blast off's optic ridges shoot up at THAT statement, the blushing getting even worse. After a time, he eventually settles long enough to really chew and taste the Cobalt Crunchy. After swallowing, he looks rather surprised, even concerned. There's a long pause where he seems to be taking a lot in before he speaks again, a dash of humor surfacing briefly. "Very comforting. I'm flattered." There's a flicker in his optics as the concerned look takes hold on his face- and voice tone. "Onslaught, I..." He tenses. "I..."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught's optics flare at the sound of concern in Blast Off's voice and even more so at the tension in his enamorato's form. "Blast Off, what is it? What's wrong?" He pauses. "..do you see the mimic? Or...or are you..." Ohhh, Cobalt Crunchies, if you've hurt him, you'll be a crater before dawn.

**Blast Off has posed:**
"I..." Blast Off sounds positively horrified, looking up at the larger mech's face with a completely baffled expression. "I /LIKE/ this?!" He quickly reaches for another piece, popping it in his mouth. MMMMM. "This is... actually really \*good\*!"

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught barks a laugh, optics flaring and flickering with joy and amusement. "I told you so!" he says, squeezing Blast Off's hand. "They're delightful, aren't they? They're not haute cuisine, to be sure, but there's just soemthing wonderful about them!"

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off smiles- one of those rare genuine smiles, made even rarer by the fact that he isn't wearing a mask to obscure it. He twists his hand to squeeze Onslaught's hand- or maybe a few fingers, really- in return and nods as he reaches for another piece. "It... it really is! I...I'm surprised something like this is so good, it's..." He squints up at Onslaught, "These aren't very expensive, are they?" Because expensive means good, right? "But you're right, they're very savory... that aftertaste is pleasant. In fact, I bet they'd balance well with a nice white quartz..." He's already thinking about what wine to pair it with.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught chuckles. 'They're definitely cheap," he says. "But we can always see if Swindle will sell tehm to us at a ridiculous markup." At the mention of the wine. "...that....the white quartz is the sparkling wine, correct? I think that might be quite tasty."

**Blast Off has posed:**
"Yes, good," Blast Off absent-mindedly says before what Onslaught said really registers with him. His high caste previous life really did hammer "expensive is better" in his head it seems. "Yes, \*crunch\* mmm mmph..." Ahem. He swallows before trying to speak more- manners, Blast Off! Then the shuttle's optics light up as Onslaught mentions the sparkly stuff. "Yes!" He sounds pleased that his Commander knows this sort of thing. "Yes, it is.. I'm glad you've been paying attention to such things. Ha, well, only one way to find out... waiter!," he calls for the bartender, seeming to forget- or not care- that his mask is off.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught stays silent, watching Blast Off's face as he calls for the bartender. He stays still, not knowing if Blast Off realizes his face is visible but not wanting to risk startling or embarassing his companion. He reaches over for a crunchie of his own, slipping it into his fuel tank.

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off seems okay with this, calling the bartender and ordering 2 glasses of white quartz. The bartender doesn't make anything of it, at least, and Blast Off seems content snacking on this newfound delight -and occasionally smiling over at Onslaught. Oh! Right, and glancing over where they're supposed to be keeping watch. \*Ahem\*

The sniper is silent a moment, holding a few pieces of Cobalt Crunchies in his black hand and staring into the distance. "It's funny," he finally begins, "I was at Maccaddams the other night. Buzzsaw was there, talking about the end of the war. Talking about how... people have to remember to communicate with each, actually talk with each other... that someday the war could end and we'd have time to..." he smiles wistfully, "...well, more time to do things like \*this\*."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught considers this, watching Blast Off carefully. 'That would be...that would be nice," he says. "For a bit, at least. We'd have to find another job, another contract sooner or later. We can't have the others getting bored, after all." Also, peacetime scary!

**Blast Off has posed:**
Peacetime, scary... right. Here, Blast Off blinks and looks over to Onslaught. "Right... I... I suppose so." He almost frowns, looking down at his drink and absent-mindedly tapping at its rim before taking another swallow. "I suppose you're right, Vortex and Brawl would be bored without something to... DO. But..." He glances up at the sky, seeking stars. "But some quiet time would be nice, wouldn't it? Time to just be, maybe try some exotic cuisine or get an extra-long session at a spa, or just stay home in front of a heat generator and maybe read a little bit?" He peers at Onslaught through the sides of his optics.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught chuckles. "It would, it would," eh says. "And I said we'd have to keep them busy -- that's not quite as difficult as you'd think. Give Brawl something or someone to hit and he'll be entertained for days. As for Vortex....well, Brawl needs someone to hit..."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off laughs again. "True, true... I imagine we can keep Swindle happy selling them weapons and repair kits, ha!" He grins, shaking his head, munching on another Crunchie as the bartender reappears and pours them some sparkling white quartz. He nods to the mech, then settles back to look at Onslaught. Sometimes he wonders if Onslaught will ever \*truly\* be happy if there was no war. He knows \*he\* would be, but his teammates... he's not so sure. He tries not to think too hard about that, though. He raises his glass to toast Onslaught, letting him drink first if he so desires.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught laughs. "Swindle is like a mechafeline, he'll go off on his own and come back when he wants feeding," he says. "Or defending." He raises his own glass, tapping it gently against Blast Off's. "Here's to us. To the Combaticons and to...well...you and I."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off laughs with him, "Indeed he is." He holds the glass, clinking against Onslaught's, then grinning up at his leader. His expression turns wistful, even a bit smitten, the blush in his cheeks evident again. "To us. All of us and... yes, us." \*clink\* He drinks heartily at that.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught likewise downs his drink, then pops in a couple Cobalt Crunchies. "..sounds as if the others are in a spot of bother," he says, then pauses. "..oh, I say...these \*are\* good with the quartz white!"

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off munches on a few himself, then speaks. "Seems so, but our job is to guard this place." He looks over where the Mimic's device has been spotted before. Still nothing of note. "I'm sure they can handle themselves just fine. Even sounds like they're winning. Maybe this war will be over soon yet!" He looks hopefully over at Onslaught before nodding. "Mmm, yes. Look at that, a little bit of class and Cobalt Crunchies become even better!" Hear, hear.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught chuckles. "If they need us, they know where to reach us," he says. "And, as you say, we have our duty.' He reaches for a remaining crunchy, picking it up and holding it out to Blast Off. "I didn't doubt it for a moment. A touch of class always makes things better."

**Blast Off has posed:**
"Indeed," Blast Off agrees, then leans forward like he's going to actually eat the crunchie out of Onslaught's hand. But... no, that wouldn't be /classy/, and he seems to change his mind, taking it like a gentlemech- with his own fingers- and breaking the piece in two, offering one half for Onslaught. "It does."

He leans back to pop the other piece in his mouth. "....You always could appreciate that, too. You're..." he stops and looks thoughtful, gazing down at his drink. "You weren't at all what I expected, you know? A military mech- a \*truck\*- and you really know your way around a battlefield, even..." he scratches at the side of his helmet, "....better than I do. I think you'll always be better at that, but that's why you're our leader." He looks up and smiles. "But then there's the other side, too. You're ...sophisticated in your own way. You seem to have just the right balance between.." he clenches a fist on both hands, weighing them one after the other up in the air, "...brawn and brains. You've got \*both\*."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught shifts in his seat, caught somewhere between pride in himself and pleasure at Blast Off's praise. "Yes, well, I've always known what I wanted," he says. "And what I wanted was to be the finest military strategist of tis or any other era. i'm not there quite yet, but with your help, I will get there."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off grins and nods up at Onslaught, bringing his own hands to hold together in front of him. "You'll have it, Sir." He states with a flush of pride and passion, then adds more gently, "Onslaught. I'll... I'll always be at your side. I... think you already \*are\* the finest military stategist but... well, I \*know\* you are, but someday the whole world will know it, too." Pause. "The whole \*universe\*." Never mind that his own daydream of domestic bliss with Onslaught is kind of at odds with that military vision. No, no, he pushes that thought down. Go away!

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught waves at Blast Off, as if dismissing his fellow Combaticon's praise -- but not very hard. "Thank you," he says. "with you at my side and the others at our back, there will be nothing we cannot handle.' He chuckles, a bit smug as he hears Starscream grumbling over the radio. "...nothing."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off listens just a bit smugly to the radio, too. "Exactly. Nothing can stop the Combaticons once we have our optics on a goal." He nods in agreement to himself and looks back where the gravlift was. "Including this Mimic creature, if he ever shows..." He sighs, then goes back to his wine. At least this wait is more than bearable- in fact, at this point he kind fo hopes the Mimic \*doesn't\* ever show up. He gives his Boss another small smile, still unmasked. "Not that I'm in a hurry."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught would, on the one hand, love to be the one to capture the Mimic -- particularly if he and Blast Off can do it together since that will just make the Combaticons look that much more awesome at their jobs. On the other hand, getting a chance to enjoy some downtime and listen to the mishaps of others while enjoying a snack and a delicious glas of wine with his enamorato...well, that's a pleasure to be savored, isn't it?