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[not-toothfairy.livejournal.com]

Somewhere out there, just at the edge of the most delicately tuned sensors' perception, there are signals being traded that Ironhide can't quite read. Some of them are Autobot signals, he's sure of that. Some of them are Decepticon ones, of that he's even more sure. The fact is that he can't read any of them. It's like spending a week with someone whispering in your ear just loudly enough to hear, but not to understand; it makes him cranky.

Granted, everything makes him cranky. But this is extra cranky. And that's why there's an Autobot weapons master out behind the Bar, out past the firing range, piling a veritable pyramid of boulders and large stones in the center of a blast crater. Best thing you can do for a bad mood is take it out on someone who deserves it, but when you can't find someone deserving, you should at least practice it away.



[tinytag: Fiona Glennane]

Comments

[lissla-lissar.livejournal.com]

Eventually Lissar exits the bar with a bucket of some microbrew or another and a Thermos of lemonade. She finds her favorite seat and settles in to watch. It's Ironhide's bad moods, but it's one of her best sources of entertainment.

[not-toothfairy.livejournal.com]

After the first several rocks have been turned to lumpy, bubbly glass- plasma cannons can be tuned to get some really interesting effects- Ironhide turns to glance over his shoulder while his guns cool. "Lissar," he acknowledges. "Just get here?"

[lissla-lissar.livejournal.com]

"While you were piling." she admits cheerfully, "But I felt that you did need some relaxation before turning yourself to speech. I am pleased to merely watch."

[not-toothfairy.livejournal.com]

Ironhide grunts, nods. "All right," he says. "Makes sense."

He's going to take some more time shooting before he talks again; his guns've cooled down enough for safety at the moment.

(He won't admit it, but he'll feel a lot better as soon as he can empty them at something worth fighting. It's been too long.)

[lissla-lissar.livejournal.com]

Lissar is always awed by Ironhide. Everything about him is simply - stunning. She watches the transformation of rock into glass with the same intensity that a fine arts fan would watch a ballet, once again contemplating how lucky she is that he lets her intrude on his practice time.

[not-toothfairy.livejournal.com]

After the stones've been fused well and thoroughly, Ironhide lowers the plasma cannon- but only to raise his other arm. The laser blaster is for what passes for precision work, with him.

Although given that he's exploding the former boulders into glittering shards one by one, it really is rather precise.

[lissla-lissar.livejournal.com]

It's a little bit like snow, all the glittering shrapnel falling through the air down onto the ground again. Lissar smiles as she watches it.

[action-rad.livejournal.com]

And Rad has come to know Ironhide just well enough to know that when the bigger mech is like this, it's best to stand well back of him and wait for him to decide if and when Rad's presence will be acknowledged and conversation will begin.

The explosions are impressive, but he doesn't want to do anything to make Ironhide want to add him to that pile of boulders there.

[not-toothfairy.livejournal.com]

Probably just as well. Ironhide's good, but he's known to make use of 'oops' at times when he probably shouldn't.

Anyway, once he's got a good-sized heap of sparkling fused silica, he drops both arms. The guns have to cool off eventually, after all.

[action-rad.livejournal.com]

From the looks of what Ironhide's made, it appears that he's got a certain knack for creating abstract sculptures.

Good luck getting that one into a museum, though. Only thing Rad can think of that would be able to lift that is a combined-into-its-larger-form gestalt.

Milliways doesn't have any of those.

Then again, considering all the different worlds people can come here from, that might not even be necessary.

[not-toothfairy.livejournal.com]

"Afternoon, Rad," says Ironhide, when he finally turns around to scan behind him. "Didn't notice you there for a moment."

[action-rad.livejournal.com]

"You were preoccupied. And I didn't want to interrupt."

Pause.

"Something happening in your world? This isn't your usual target practise you had going there."

[not-toothfairy.livejournal.com]

"Signals," Ironhide says tersely. "Just outside of range. Too fragmentary to tell whose they are, but they're someone's. And it's been much too quiet for much too long."

[justcallmefee]

Fiona was on her way to the blast crater for a little R&R herself when she hears the FATHOOOOOOOM of the massive bot's plasma cannons, followed by the more precise chatter of his laser guns.

The hairs are standing up on her arms by the time she crests the rise. "I think I'm in love."

She drops the green canvas bag from her shoulder and hits the ground with a weighty thud, iron rattling against iron within its confines. Taking off the vintage army cap, she twists her hair up again before pulling it back down over her eyes.

"Is this an invitation only party? Or can anyone play along?"

[not-toothfairy.livejournal.com]

"It's a public range," Ironhide answers as his guns go into temporary cooling mode. "Stay out of the splash damage zone. What're you shooting?"

[justcallmefee]

"Fantastic. But I'm not shooting," she answers, bending over to unzip the bag. Inside are a double dozen or more twelve inch long cylinders made from galvanized pipe, capped at each end, with a bit of fuse sticking out the end.

"I'm throwing." She hefts one in each hand, grinning down at her own handiwork.

[not-toothfairy.livejournal.com]

Had Ironhide eyebrows, he'd be raising them both clear into his nonexistent hairline. He doesn't, though, so all that comes out is a low whistle, and "Nice work. Okay, go ahead. I'd like to see this."

[justcallmefee]

"Don't mind if I do."

Fi sets one of the pipe bombs back down, and reaches in her pocket to pull out a little notebook, a pencil and a lighter.

"Trying out some new components. Thought I should do this scientifically. Or something."

She takes a second to note the number chalked on the side of the pipe in the book, and then she's lighting the fuse.

"Fire in the hole!" She doesn't so much shout it as announce it with a bit of a singsong. Of course, the throw isn't nearly as civilized. She doesn't turn away or flinch in anticipation, no, not Fi. Her eyes track the device all the way into the center of the stone pile.

And the detonation that follows, well... Let's just say we're glad there aren't any structures with glass windows nearby.

"Whoo yeah!" (Okay that was a little less than professional.)

[not-toothfairy.livejournal.com]

"No sense working up a new design if you don't keep track of what works and what doesn't," Ironhide agrees. "Looks like you've been doing this a while. Good throwing arm, there."

[fairytaleknight]

Fakir's familiar with this philosophy. He's spent most of the afternoon running through sword routines at the other side of the lake from Ironside, but the practice hasn't done much to help his mood. (Fakir, too, is always grumpy.)

It's time, Fakir decides as he cleans and sheathes his practice sword, to go for a run. Maybe he'll encounter one of those demon rabbits. At least, by now, Fakir knows enough swordwork to defend himself from a bloodthirsty bunny. Fakir hopes so, anyway.

When he reaches Ironhide's side of the lake, Fakir stops. He pushes sweat-drenched hair out of his face and stares at Ironhide. (Fakir's slight, wiry, and barely 165 cm tall. Staring at Ironhide and the circle of wreckage he's producing involves staring up.)

[not-toothfairy.livejournal.com]

Ironhide has a combat mode that lets him fire for extended periods without overheating his guns, but he's not using that today. Not a good idea to rely on that, just in case he forgets to turn it on. Right now, he's pausing mid-practice to let the laser cannon cool; in the process, he notices the human. "Afternoon," he says, expression... well, look at that face and tell us honestly what it's conveying. Doesn't work so good, with Ironhide.

[fairytaleknight]

All right, so the ground-destroying creature's not a monster. That is, it's not the kind of monster who doesn't know how to talk. The monster raven talks, in all the stories, and when Fakir met the raven (well, actually, Raven, but Fakir doesn't know there's a difference), he talked too. So Fakir can't let down his guard, especially since the... creature? automaton? ... has noticed him.

Unfortunately, Fakir doesn't even politely greet people he's pretty sure are human. What he says -- and what he would say to anyone, of any height and species, he found causing explosions -- is, "What are you doing?"

[not-toothfairy.livejournal.com]

"Target practice," says Ironhide, who is not particularly impressed by any edge or temper in an organic's voice. Any organic. "Easier here than at home, right now."

[fairytaleknight]

Almost no one is ever impressed by Fakir's temper. It's tragic. Fakir wants to be the kind of Byronic hero whose forbidding mien and subtly powerful voice convince everyone to admire or fear him from a safe distance. Unfortunately, the only person who even fears him is that idiot Duck.

On the other hand, Fakir is, rather against his will, impressed by Ironhide. "What kind of weapon are you using?" He won't admit he's never seen anything like it, but it may be obvious.

[not-toothfairy.livejournal.com]

"This one-" Ironhide indicates the one on his left arm- "Is a plasma cannon. Don't know if you know what that is, a lot of humans don't. And this-" He holds up his right arm. "Is a laser cannon. The one in the middle, anyway. Fires beams of light focused enough to burn or melt through slagging near anything they hit. There are high explosive missile rounds around it, but I haven't fired any of those yet."

He's smiling, although it only comes through in his voice. His is not a face built for much expression, truth be told.