Cyclonus grabbed the Sweep's beard and hauled him toward him. "Scourge!"
Sweep #3 gave Cyclonus a scared look. If Cyclonus couldn't tell the Sweeps from their leader, he was probably in the sort of mood where he'd pull one of them apart for fun. And if he was in that mood, it was safer to be the one he thought was Scourge. At least until he realized you weren't. "Y-yes, Cyclonus?"
"Truce is back on. Just got the comm From Magnus. And Lord Galvatron."
The Sweep stared at Cyclonus in confusion. "Um, Cyclonus, sir. Is this a bad thing?"
Cyclonus looked at the Sweep more closely. "You're not Scourge."
"N-no, sir, do you want me to call Scourge for you?" the Sweep asked, hopefully. That way Cyclonus would let go of his beard. Maybe.
"I can call him myself." Cyclonus, unfortunately, didn't let go. "Magnus and Galvatron are in the Boudoir together. With Optimus Prime. And Hot Rod."
The Sweep gave him a confused look. "Ahh--how terrible!"
"No, no, not terrible!" Cyclonus made a visible effort to pull himself together. "It's a very good thing. Galvatron and Hot Rod get back together, the truce stays together, all of us get more energon, less injuries, more resources to battle the Quintessons and space pirates."
"Ahh--how wonderful, then!" Sweep #3 would declare it whatever Cyclonus wanted it to be. Just as long as Cyclonus would let go of the beard. Or--wait. Another good thing about the truce: respect for Autobot morality, at least when they're on their territory. "Cyclonus, sir--would it be possible for you to maybe let go of my beard?"
"What?" Cyclonus stared. "Oh, yes." He let go.
"Will that be all then?" He asked, hopefully, and prepared to run away, fast, as soon as Cyclonus gave the go-ahead.
Cyclonus gave him a contemptuous look, and was--probably, hopefully--about to give him permission to leave, when Scourge came around the corner. The real Scourge: Sweeps could always tell the difference, even when Cyclonus couldn't.
"Why are you terrorizing that Sweep?" Scourge stopped before he got anywhere near beard-grabbing distance--even before the truce, Cyclonus didn't have these moods very often, but often enough that he could know and fear the signs.
Cyclonus gave him a frustrated look--his 'I'm angry about something I don't want to admit being angry about' look. Sweep #3 discreetly backed down the hallway to hide behind Scourge. Who, in turn, grabbed his wing and hid behind him. Why couldn't they have a leader who was less cowardly than they were?
(Oh right, they did: Cyclonus. And Galvatron, for that matter. Being at the bottom of the Unicronian pecking order sucked slag.)
"The truce is back on, Scourge." Cyclonus advanced on the two of them--clearly he would not be content without a beard to pull. Or something like that. Sweep #3 instinctively pressed back against Scourge, who, for once, held his ground, but was quite insistent on the point of his Sweep staying between him and Cyclonus just now. Cyclonus gave them an exasperated look. "Oh, stop, you two, I'm not going to hurt you."
Scourge and his Sweep gave Cyclonus identical doubtful looks. Scourge cleared his throat--not that his vocalizer needed clearing, but it seemed like an appropriate sound to make. "Don't you--want it to be back on?" It wasn't impossible that he didn't; Cyclonus had dealt remarkably well with Galvatron's relationship with Hot Rod, presumably because of all the time he spent in the (usually metaphorical) berth with the two of them, but Scourge and the Sweeps had had to deal with Cyclonus' jealousy over the relationship before.
Cyclonus shook his head. He was very much within beard-grabbing (or wing-grabbing, or any-number-of-vulnerable-areas–grabbing) distance, but he refrained from grabbing anything at the moment. "No, I have no problem with the truce continuing. However. The truce is continuing because Magnus and Optimus Prime hauled Galvatron and Hot Rod into the Boudoir together. And they're all still in there."
This didn't make any more sense to Sweep #3 than it did the last time Cyclonus had said it. Scourge, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what Cyclonus was getting at. "Ohhh. And you are not."
"Yes." Cyclonus took hold of Scourge's wings. The Sweep made an extremely undignified squeaking sound as he was pressed between them, but Cyclonus didn't seem to notice. "All this time I've been trying to get Magnus and Galvatron in the berth together, and somehow they manage to pull it off without me."
"Um." Scourge's body was heating up from the wing-grab. He peeked at Cyclonus over Scourge #3's shoulder "You could comm and ask to join in?"
Cyclonus shook his head forcefully enough to shake Scourge's wings a bit, too. "It's make-up sex. I can't just intrude on them."
"Um, well--Optimus and Magnus are already there. Clearly it's not a private party?" Scourge was getting off on being shaken substantially more than Sweep #3 thought was reasonable. For that matter, Sweep #3 was starting to get off on being pressed between the two of them--he didn't know whether to curse or give thanks for his Unicronian programming and conditioning.
Cyclonus growled. "But I can't just--!" And now he was tugging on the wings. Sweep #3 tucked his own wings further around himself as the space available between him and the other two suddenly became zero on all sides.
"Cyc--I've got a camera in there. Have our own orgy while we watch?"
Cyclonus considered this for a second. "Acceptable." He then looked at the Sweep between the two of them. "If it is not acceptable to you, we can always get some of the others."
Sweep #3 gave Cyc a slightly shocked look.
"I mean it, Sweep," Cyclonus growled. "You may go if you like."
"Um. If I stay--no beard grabs? It's already sore!" For all that he was terrifying, Cyclonus was good in the berth, and with what all else that had been going on lately, opportunities for the Sweeps to 'face with him were few and far between. But he was not kidding about the beard.
"No beard grabs." Cyclonus leaned in--not very far, really, considering how closely they were pressed together--to purr into his ear, "Unless you ask for them."
"Yes! Definitely yes!" Sweep #3 realized a second after that he'd actually said that out loud. "Um, on joining you in the orgy. Not on the beard grabbing."
Cyclonus laughed, just for a second, and the vibrations rippled through all three of them. "Understood. Now. To Scourge's room. Before they finish." He released one of Scourge's wings, turned around, and headed off.
"Ow, hang on!" It took Scourge and his Sweep an astrosecond or two to get out of each others' way sufficiently to follow Cyclonus at the right angle to keep Scourge's wing from being pulled off. "It does record, you know."
"Watching live is better." But Cyclonus waited.
"Also better when I have two wings," Scourge grumbled, but he was already keeping pace, not protesting the hand on his wing.
Sweep #3 followed behind them, as he was designed to do, summoning his brothers to join in the entertainment. Or, if necessary, split the pain.
Re: :D
Sweep #3 gave Cyclonus a scared look. If Cyclonus couldn't tell the Sweeps from their leader, he was probably in the sort of mood where he'd pull one of them apart for fun. And if he was in that mood, it was safer to be the one he thought was Scourge. At least until he realized you weren't. "Y-yes, Cyclonus?"
"Truce is back on. Just got the comm From Magnus. And Lord Galvatron."
The Sweep stared at Cyclonus in confusion. "Um, Cyclonus, sir. Is this a bad thing?"
Cyclonus looked at the Sweep more closely. "You're not Scourge."
"N-no, sir, do you want me to call Scourge for you?" the Sweep asked, hopefully. That way Cyclonus would let go of his beard. Maybe.
"I can call him myself." Cyclonus, unfortunately, didn't let go. "Magnus and Galvatron are in the Boudoir together. With Optimus Prime. And Hot Rod."
The Sweep gave him a confused look. "Ahh--how terrible!"
"No, no, not terrible!" Cyclonus made a visible effort to pull himself together. "It's a very good thing. Galvatron and Hot Rod get back together, the truce stays together, all of us get more energon, less injuries, more resources to battle the Quintessons and space pirates."
"Ahh--how wonderful, then!" Sweep #3 would declare it whatever Cyclonus wanted it to be. Just as long as Cyclonus would let go of the beard. Or--wait. Another good thing about the truce: respect for Autobot morality, at least when they're on their territory. "Cyclonus, sir--would it be possible for you to maybe let go of my beard?"
"What?" Cyclonus stared. "Oh, yes." He let go.
"Will that be all then?" He asked, hopefully, and prepared to run away, fast, as soon as Cyclonus gave the go-ahead.
Cyclonus gave him a contemptuous look, and was--probably, hopefully--about to give him permission to leave, when Scourge came around the corner. The real Scourge: Sweeps could always tell the difference, even when Cyclonus couldn't.
"Why are you terrorizing that Sweep?" Scourge stopped before he got anywhere near beard-grabbing distance--even before the truce, Cyclonus didn't have these moods very often, but often enough that he could know and fear the signs.
Cyclonus gave him a frustrated look--his 'I'm angry about something I don't want to admit being angry about' look. Sweep #3 discreetly backed down the hallway to hide behind Scourge. Who, in turn, grabbed his wing and hid behind him. Why couldn't they have a leader who was less cowardly than they were?
(Oh right, they did: Cyclonus. And Galvatron, for that matter. Being at the bottom of the Unicronian pecking order sucked slag.)
"The truce is back on, Scourge." Cyclonus advanced on the two of them--clearly he would not be content without a beard to pull. Or something like that. Sweep #3 instinctively pressed back against Scourge, who, for once, held his ground, but was quite insistent on the point of his Sweep staying between him and Cyclonus just now. Cyclonus gave them an exasperated look. "Oh, stop, you two, I'm not going to hurt you."
Scourge and his Sweep gave Cyclonus identical doubtful looks. Scourge cleared his throat--not that his vocalizer needed clearing, but it seemed like an appropriate sound to make. "Don't you--want it to be back on?" It wasn't impossible that he didn't; Cyclonus had dealt remarkably well with Galvatron's relationship with Hot Rod, presumably because of all the time he spent in the (usually metaphorical) berth with the two of them, but Scourge and the Sweeps had had to deal with Cyclonus' jealousy over the relationship before.
Cyclonus shook his head. He was very much within beard-grabbing (or wing-grabbing, or any-number-of-vulnerable-areas–grabbing) distance, but he refrained from grabbing anything at the moment. "No, I have no problem with the truce continuing. However. The truce is continuing because Magnus and Optimus Prime hauled Galvatron and Hot Rod into the Boudoir together. And they're all still in there."
This didn't make any more sense to Sweep #3 than it did the last time Cyclonus had said it. Scourge, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what Cyclonus was getting at. "Ohhh. And you are not."
"Yes." Cyclonus took hold of Scourge's wings. The Sweep made an extremely undignified squeaking sound as he was pressed between them, but Cyclonus didn't seem to notice. "All this time I've been trying to get Magnus and Galvatron in the berth together, and somehow they manage to pull it off without me."
"Um." Scourge's body was heating up from the wing-grab. He peeked at Cyclonus over Scourge #3's shoulder "You could comm and ask to join in?"
Cyclonus shook his head forcefully enough to shake Scourge's wings a bit, too. "It's make-up sex. I can't just intrude on them."
"Um, well--Optimus and Magnus are already there. Clearly it's not a private party?" Scourge was getting off on being shaken substantially more than Sweep #3 thought was reasonable. For that matter, Sweep #3 was starting to get off on being pressed between the two of them--he didn't know whether to curse or give thanks for his Unicronian programming and conditioning.
Cyclonus growled. "But I can't just--!" And now he was tugging on the wings. Sweep #3 tucked his own wings further around himself as the space available between him and the other two suddenly became zero on all sides.
"Cyc--I've got a camera in there. Have our own orgy while we watch?"
Cyclonus considered this for a second. "Acceptable." He then looked at the Sweep between the two of them. "If it is not acceptable to you, we can always get some of the others."
Sweep #3 gave Cyc a slightly shocked look.
"I mean it, Sweep," Cyclonus growled. "You may go if you like."
"Um. If I stay--no beard grabs? It's already sore!" For all that he was terrifying, Cyclonus was good in the berth, and with what all else that had been going on lately, opportunities for the Sweeps to 'face with him were few and far between. But he was not kidding about the beard.
"No beard grabs." Cyclonus leaned in--not very far, really, considering how closely they were pressed together--to purr into his ear, "Unless you ask for them."
"Yes! Definitely yes!" Sweep #3 realized a second after that he'd actually said that out loud. "Um, on joining you in the orgy. Not on the beard grabbing."
Cyclonus laughed, just for a second, and the vibrations rippled through all three of them. "Understood. Now. To Scourge's room. Before they finish." He released one of Scourge's wings, turned around, and headed off.
"Ow, hang on!" It took Scourge and his Sweep an astrosecond or two to get out of each others' way sufficiently to follow Cyclonus at the right angle to keep Scourge's wing from being pulled off. "It does record, you know."
"Watching live is better." But Cyclonus waited.
"Also better when I have two wings," Scourge grumbled, but he was already keeping pace, not protesting the hand on his wing.
Sweep #3 followed behind them, as he was designed to do, summoning his brothers to join in the entertainment. Or, if necessary, split the pain.