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shadow_vector2011-10-24 12:12 pm
niyazi-a.livejournal.com) wrote in shadow_vector2011-10-24 12:12 pm
Let me buy me a drink
PG
TFA Inamorato AU
Barricade, Rodimus
snark
for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tf_speedwritingprompt 5
“Who does a mech gotta frag around here to get a drink?” Barricade rapped on the pink foil-glittery counter of the bar. He’d had a long fraggin’ day and it was time for a drink. Several drinks. Enough drinks that Barricade forgot how to spell his own name.
“That usual Decepticon currency?” the voice drawled behind him.
“Hey, if it works?” Barricade shrugged, turning slowly. “Eh. Rodimus Minor. So we meet again.” He leaned suavely against the bar, wiggling his long talons.
The Autobot blinked. “We’ve met?”
Heh. Of course not, Barricade thought. If they’d actually met, one of them would be dead, an energon blade lodged in his throat.
But that was half the fun. “You don’t remember?” he drawled.
“Of course I do. I was just…sure you didn’t want me to bring it up.”
What? Barricade narrowed his optics. Oh, a wise guy, huh? Well, Barricade was wiser than any other wise guy out there. He had so much wise he could bottle it up and sell it. Except he was too wise to do that much work. Bluff? Please to pick up the nearby courtesy phone, because you are being called. “Why wouldn’t I want to be reminded of the time I whomped your aft?” He smiled, sweetly.
“Whomped my…?” Rodimus’s face twisted into a frown. “Not how I remember it.”
“Yeah, well, psychoactive drugs’ll do that to ya.” An airy wave of his talons.
“Yeah? And how would I have gotten those psychoactive drugs in my system?” The face settled into a smug smile.
“Hey,” Barricade gave an easy shrug. “I don’t judge.”
Rodimus bristled. “What exactly are you trying to say?”
“Me? Try to say anything?” Perish the thought. Barricade wasn’t a big fan of subtle. Subtle was for wussbots. Stealthy? Totally different. “But rumor has it? You’re into girls.”
“I…dabble.” The face closed down, one hand balling into a fist.
“Heh. Means you fail. At girls.” He snorted.
“Hey, that’s…that’s getting kind of personal.” The frown wavered, optics drifting somewhere behind Barricade’s shoulder.
Barricade turned, and saw a white femme. Red Alert. Huh, who knew that Onslaught’s Incredibly Tedious Flashcards would actually come in handy? Well, for something other than coasters. And they were on the same team during the war…. “Huh. Girl troubles?”
“Frag no! At least…nothing I’d tell a con.”
Barricade smirked. “Oh, let’s just see. Swami Barricade knows all, sees all.” He squinted at the femme. “She doesn’t take you seriously.”
Rodimus blinked. “H-how did you know that?”
Frag. Because I don’t take you seriously, mech. He waggled his talons. “Secret Decepticon powers.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So?”
“What do I do? To get her take me seriously.”
Personality transplant, Barricade almost blurted. But hey, having an Autobot owe him a favor? Could come in handy. “Ask her to dance.”
Rodimus shuffled his feet. “Uh…not really good at that.”
Barricade smothered a smirk. Oh the great and Hot Rod not good at something? Perish the epic thought. “It’ll work. You don’t have to be good at dancing. Just ask her. In fact, helps if you act all nervous while you’re doing it. Femmes like to make mechs uncomfortable.” In his experience, femmes were attracted to uncomfortable the way morphobots liked robots. He still had nightmares.
“That’ll really work?”
Barricade leaned over, patting the Autobot comfortingly on the shoulder. “Trust me. Go, wiggle like an idiot, tell her how beautiful she is, and go on downrange and wait for awesome.”
“Awesome. She chased me with a syringe once.”
“Eh, that’s how femmes show they like you. Uncomfortable. Like I said.”
A contemplative look. “You might be right.”
“Might be,” he scoffed. “Barricupid’s never wrong.” Except like…most of the time when squishy emotional stuff was involved. “Now,” he said, shoving at the red hip. “Tactical advantage. Go.”
Rodimus shot him a strange look over his shoulder, as he moved across the floor to where Red Alert stood, surveying the bar with an impassive scowl. “Th-thank you.”
Barricade gave a shrug, turning as the bartender finally showed up. He held up an Autobot-emblazoned credit chit, one he’d just liberated from His Rodness. No. Thank you.
TFA Inamorato AU
Barricade, Rodimus
snark
for
tf_speedwritingprompt 5 “Who does a mech gotta frag around here to get a drink?” Barricade rapped on the pink foil-glittery counter of the bar. He’d had a long fraggin’ day and it was time for a drink. Several drinks. Enough drinks that Barricade forgot how to spell his own name.
“That usual Decepticon currency?” the voice drawled behind him.
“Hey, if it works?” Barricade shrugged, turning slowly. “Eh. Rodimus Minor. So we meet again.” He leaned suavely against the bar, wiggling his long talons.
The Autobot blinked. “We’ve met?”
Heh. Of course not, Barricade thought. If they’d actually met, one of them would be dead, an energon blade lodged in his throat.
But that was half the fun. “You don’t remember?” he drawled.
“Of course I do. I was just…sure you didn’t want me to bring it up.”
What? Barricade narrowed his optics. Oh, a wise guy, huh? Well, Barricade was wiser than any other wise guy out there. He had so much wise he could bottle it up and sell it. Except he was too wise to do that much work. Bluff? Please to pick up the nearby courtesy phone, because you are being called. “Why wouldn’t I want to be reminded of the time I whomped your aft?” He smiled, sweetly.
“Whomped my…?” Rodimus’s face twisted into a frown. “Not how I remember it.”
“Yeah, well, psychoactive drugs’ll do that to ya.” An airy wave of his talons.
“Yeah? And how would I have gotten those psychoactive drugs in my system?” The face settled into a smug smile.
“Hey,” Barricade gave an easy shrug. “I don’t judge.”
Rodimus bristled. “What exactly are you trying to say?”
“Me? Try to say anything?” Perish the thought. Barricade wasn’t a big fan of subtle. Subtle was for wussbots. Stealthy? Totally different. “But rumor has it? You’re into girls.”
“I…dabble.” The face closed down, one hand balling into a fist.
“Heh. Means you fail. At girls.” He snorted.
“Hey, that’s…that’s getting kind of personal.” The frown wavered, optics drifting somewhere behind Barricade’s shoulder.
Barricade turned, and saw a white femme. Red Alert. Huh, who knew that Onslaught’s Incredibly Tedious Flashcards would actually come in handy? Well, for something other than coasters. And they were on the same team during the war…. “Huh. Girl troubles?”
“Frag no! At least…nothing I’d tell a con.”
Barricade smirked. “Oh, let’s just see. Swami Barricade knows all, sees all.” He squinted at the femme. “She doesn’t take you seriously.”
Rodimus blinked. “H-how did you know that?”
Frag. Because I don’t take you seriously, mech. He waggled his talons. “Secret Decepticon powers.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So?”
“What do I do? To get her take me seriously.”
Personality transplant, Barricade almost blurted. But hey, having an Autobot owe him a favor? Could come in handy. “Ask her to dance.”
Rodimus shuffled his feet. “Uh…not really good at that.”
Barricade smothered a smirk. Oh the great and Hot Rod not good at something? Perish the epic thought. “It’ll work. You don’t have to be good at dancing. Just ask her. In fact, helps if you act all nervous while you’re doing it. Femmes like to make mechs uncomfortable.” In his experience, femmes were attracted to uncomfortable the way morphobots liked robots. He still had nightmares.
“That’ll really work?”
Barricade leaned over, patting the Autobot comfortingly on the shoulder. “Trust me. Go, wiggle like an idiot, tell her how beautiful she is, and go on downrange and wait for awesome.”
“Awesome. She chased me with a syringe once.”
“Eh, that’s how femmes show they like you. Uncomfortable. Like I said.”
A contemplative look. “You might be right.”
“Might be,” he scoffed. “Barricupid’s never wrong.” Except like…most of the time when squishy emotional stuff was involved. “Now,” he said, shoving at the red hip. “Tactical advantage. Go.”
Rodimus shot him a strange look over his shoulder, as he moved across the floor to where Red Alert stood, surveying the bar with an impassive scowl. “Th-thank you.”
Barricade gave a shrug, turning as the bartender finally showed up. He held up an Autobot-emblazoned credit chit, one he’d just liberated from His Rodness. No. Thank you.
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*glomps 'Cade and never, ever lets go* So awesome!
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But Roddy just RAN into it and ASKED for it xDDd
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This was a very nice light-hearted end to my day <3 loved it!
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The post on my flist was enough to make me giggle. This? Gold!
:needs to learn to draw so she can make a swami!Barricade:
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I enjoyed this thoroughly.
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rotfl! XD