Trypticon Medical Bay

Several operating tables are set in a row here, and long benches line the walls. On these benches are assorted tools and equipment used in repairing damaged Decepticons. The benches near the door are for patients waiting their turn for treatment. Scattered throughout the room are various repair droids, awaiting the arrival of more wounded to repair. The room gives you the perception of being immaculately clean, with not a single tool out of place. Your olfactory sensors pick up the faint odor of the cleansing solutions used to keep the room clean and sanitary.

Contents:

Hook

Sign

Gumby Medic

Obvious exits:

East <E> leads to Trypticon Laboratory.

West <W> leads to Trypticon Main Hallway.

Scavenger has arrived.

Scrapper has arrived.

Scrapper is just about done with the first pile of reports, workings busily at his desk. Two more piles to go! He vaguely wonders if writing a program to do the reports for him would be easier. After all, they're mostly incomprehensible garbage with a lot of footnotes. The idea is rather temping, but the program would probably gain sapience on its own and join the Autobots or something dumb like that.

And Long Haul is NOT doing requisitions paperwork. Or carrying anything. Or doing much of anything else, really. It must be the end of the world, or something lame like that. He's sitting in a corner of medical bay, mug in hand, topping off his energon. Maybe he's just on break... odds are someone is going to notice and tell him to move something before too long. Or just tell him to move.

As for Scavenger, well, he must be on break or something (or, more likely, no one's yelled at him to go do something more productive yet), for he's sitting in a different corner, polishing the Arabian-looking oil lamp he found a while back. Not that it didn't look good dingy and dusty, but there's just something about it that makes him want to rub it.

Hook, on the other hand, IS working! He's finally got around to re-organizing Mixmaster's roster system! "How in Primus's name did he MAKE this?" he grumbles, sitting at a console and tapping at the interface, a spreadsheet scrolling across the screen in front of him. "Print our the names of all MSE personel, then pull them out of a bucket?" Yeah, probably. "Ugh.. it's going to take me FOREVER to sort all this out."

Scrapper listens to Hook whine. Hey, if Hook wants the system straightened out to his exacting specifications, Hook can do it himself. And it probably will take him forever, too. Ah, such confidence Scrapper has in his fellows.

Long Haul finishes his drink and stands up, trudging heavily towards the storage cabinet. Without bothering to clean the mug first, he opens the cabinet door, slams the mug down loudly and shuts the door with equal lack-of-grace, no thought given to any who might be recovering in the room. Then he trudges over to Hook to look over his shoulder. "Y'FINALLY gettin' around to that?" he asks almost absently.

"Why exactly did we let Mix design that anyway?" Scavenger asks, looking up from his work. At least now, though, he didn't feel so bad about the trouble he had with it. If even the "oh so terribly brilliant" Hook can't figure it out...

"Because he's XO of MSE, Scav," answers Long Haul almost absently. This doesn't really bother him nearly as much as it annoys Hook, because Long Haul would rather be recognized in a different field altogether. On the upside, the days of random Constructicon promotions and demotions seem to have passed.

"I had more important matters to attend to" Hook replies to Long Haul. And this is true. Hook might be a perfectionist afthole, but he still ranks actually DESIGNING and BUILDING things a lot higher than mucking about with rosters. The only reason he's bothering now is that he has nothing better to do. "And yes, Scavenger, it's because SOMEHOW our dear brother got promoted to XO. Personally, I think he spiked Arachnae's energon."

Long Haul brings a large black hand up to rub his chin in an 'I'm thinking!' gesture. This takes quite awhile, as sometimes he processes things kind of slowly. "But... uhm... wasn't Mixmaster /demoted/ into the position from CO of MSE when Scrapper /promoted/ Arachnae into it?" he finally asks.

Hook says, "Yes.. but how'd he get there in the first place? Arachnae was CO before Mixmaster was, and Fulcrum was XO - which in itself is highly suspect, since I wouldn't trust him to weld a door open."

Scavenger looks up from his polishing and offers his brothers a shrug. "Wouldn't put it past Mix," he says. Granted, he's probably more trusting of Mix than the others are, but that's just because he's generally trusting in nature. Then again, he finally figure out that Mix tricked him into carrying stuff a while back, so....

Scrapper is just going to stay very, very quiet here, oh yes. He hunches over his desk and taps quietly at his keyboard, trying to look wholly engrossed by his report. It's a comparison of two different series of capacitors. Anyone with half a clue who looks at it is going to be able to tell it's boring drivel.

Long Haul stands up straight, giving Hook, probably, a bit more room, and starts counting out demotions, promotions, etc, etc on his fingers. He starts on one hand, switches to the other, realizes that hand contains no more wisdom than the first, and shakes his head. Finally he shrugs and gives up entirely. "Eh. Really, what difference does it make, anyways? S'just a title." After all, trying to control engineers is much like herding cats, so who really knows who's in charge, when it comes right down to it?

Hook tappy-tappy-taps at the console. "Oh of course" he admits. "But every so often, he gets that.. that LOOK on his face, that says "Ha ha, I'm higher ranking than you!". Ugh!" Hook stabs at the keys, moving around shifts so that Kitbash isn't covering an entire day by himself.

And that's the problem with having facial expressions. They just get in the way, really. Long Haul looks down at Hook and studies the back of his brother's head. "So, like... tha'ss worse than alla the other looks he has?" the transporter asks a bit dimly.

"Don't see how it's any different than the way he /always/ looks," Scavenger offers. At least, to him anyway, Mix always looks like he's up to something or just finished being up to something, or just about to start being up to something. And yet because this is so common, he doesn't think much of it. Usually.

"It's.. just.. annoying!" Hook replies, not looking away from his work. "It won't last anyway. He'll end up doing stupid, as usual."

Long Haul chuckles, long and low, and pats his brother rather forcefully on the back. "Like /you/ got room to talk about annoyin', Hook!" Still, his mood is rather good, despite his comment.

Scrapper stares despondently at his report. Must... maintain... interest... ergh. He flicks over to a different report. What's this? A bunch of nonsense about chlorophyll-based life? Bah, low-priority. Like Scrapper's going to read that.

Not wanting to get involved in an arguement, Scavenger goes back to polishing his lamp. Polish, polish, polish. But Long Haul's right, Hook's got no room to complain about people's usual traits, not with his whole "you hole isn't 100% even and accurate Scavenger" attitude and everything.

Hook swivels in his chair. "And just what do you mean by /that/?" he asks Long Haul.

Long Haul puts his hands up in an expression of mock innocence. "Jus' sayin' that for annoying, you got Mixmaster beat all the way around! I mean, hey, he may be XO of MSE an' all, but you're top ranks for annoying, no argument!" It's a good thing he has no face to speak of, since there's no way he'd be able to maintain a straight expression if he did.

Hook stands up and reaches out to prod Long Haul in the chestplate. "I'll have you know I have a very interesting and likeable personality!" he claims, ignoring all evidence to the contrary.

Scavenger sputters with laughter. He shouldn't have, he knows, but he just can't help himself. Hook's likable enough, for being a Constructicon, but interesting...?

Long Haul also bursts out laughing, although he'd label it more the other way around. Interesting? Well, sure, sometimes. Likeable? Uhm. No. He does stop chuckling long enough to say, "Y'see, the problem is, we only got /your/ word onna matter."

Scrapper peers up from his computer with a snort and just stares at Hook. Oh, sure the surgeon is interesting... in all the worst senses of the word. Hook's the kind of interesting that primitive people use as a curse. And likeable? Eh-heh. Heh. Not gonna go there.

Hook hmphs! "You're just saying that becase, unlike YOU two, I don't have a conversational range limited to "moving things" and "finding things"

"I do more than find things!" Scavenger says, finally getting up to actually face Hook. "I ah... dig holes..." He deflates slightly, realizing that he didn't exactly have a good arguement going for him.

Long Haul stops laughing and clenches his fists, trying his best to glare daggers with his non-face. "I can talk about other stuff! Like... like..." and of course it's at /this/ moment that his mind is a blank, because, naturally, it's when you want to think about what you may have spoken about in the past that you're never going to be able to do it. Finally he finishes lamely, "stuff!"

Hook smirks. "Digging holes and /stuff/. Well, I see you've both expanded your range of topics phenominally. So now you can talk to each other about the stuff that you found in a hole and took somewhere. Bravo."

"Says the guy who's biggest trick is figuring stuff out to a bajillion decimal places!" Scavenger counters. Granted, it's not a great arguement or even a real logical one... But it makes Scavenger feel good to say it.

Long Haul crosses his arms and continues in his futile attempt to glower at Hook. "Well, okay... so if you're so damned likable, howabout lettin' us in on who it is that likes you? You know, specific examples and stuff? I mean, you /do/ like bein' exact and stuff."

Scrapper just sits back in his chair and watches the argument. Hey, they're not insulting him, so it's all good, and it's a fair bit more amusing than reports. Why yes, Scrapper is indeed bored. There's a glint in his optic band that says he's going to be ever so interested in what examples Hook comes up with to answer Long Haul.

Hook uhs. "Well... there's..." he falters, before rallying. "Arachnae. Arachnae likes me."

"Oh, good. One person. Yer just /baskin/ in the popularity, aren't'cha?" Long Haul has the upper hand in an argument, and he intends to ram it home with all the grace and finesse of... well, a dump truck. He uncrosses his arms to jab a finger in Hook's direction. "Face it! Nobody likes you, 'cos you're a bigger ass than I am! An' tha'ss saying something!"

Arachnae? /Arachnae/? Hook picks the creepiest person this side of well, someone even creepier in the army. Scavenger makes a mental note to stay just a little farther away from Hook whenever he has to. "Haul's got apoint, Hook. You don't do much to make folks like you."

Hook blinks, then suddenly lashes out with the flat of his hand, aiming to slap what little features Long Haul has right off his face. "You take that back!" he hisses. "Lots of people like me!"

Hook strikes you with SLAP for 4 points of damage.

Scrapper just about falls out of his chair. Did Long Haul just out-argue Hook? Something is badly awry with the laws of the universe, if so! Scrapper snickers quietly to himself.

Long Haul stumbles back more out of surprise than actual pain, although really, he should have been expecting it. "NO!" roars the transporter. "If /so/ many people like ya, how come you could only think of one? Wassa matter, Hook? Truth hurt?" And with that he steps forward and thrusts his hands forward, attempting to push Hook into the console behind him.

You strike Hook with *PUSH*.

Scavenger wisely takes a couple of steps back and to the side, getting himself out of the way. He' s long learned not to get in Long Haul's way when he's got a glitch up his aft. In the meantime, this oughta be fun to watch.

Hook smacks into the console, his aft scheduelling Fulcrum to work every second shift for the next few months. "Why.. you!" he splutters. "Hok likes me too! And Boncrusher!... okay, not Bonesrusher, but he's creepy anyway! Optics too close together! And.. um.. Ratbat likes me, I'm sure!" Stepping forward, Hook aims a vicious kick at Long Haul's shins.

Hook strikes you with Take this you ruffian! for 7 points of damage.

"Ooooooo!" the transporter taunts, even as he hops back and spends a moment seeing to his shin. "/Ratbat/ likes you! Oh, well, THAT just settles it! Got news for you, Hook! No one likes /him/ either! An' the others are jus' a buncha Constructicon-wanna-be suck-ups!" he yells, balling his hand into a fist and bringing it in towards where the abdomen would be on a human-being.

You strike Hook with Truth Hurts! And So Does This!.

Scavenger just leans back and enjoys the show. Hook getting his come-uppance is always good, and well, it helps Long Haul let off a little steam. And then they'll yell and scrape some, knock back some energon, and go back to working together by the end of the week. It's good to be a Constructicon. Under his breath, however, he's muttering "C'mon Haul... knock his smug little block off..."

Scrapper reflects that it's lucky that it's him here and not some other High Command member. Just about anyone else would be chewing Long Haul and Hook out for infighting in the medbay of all places. Scrapper instead understands perfectly the urge to smack his brothers; he certainly feels it often enough. However, all good things must come to an end, and if they keep up too long, someone else might wander in on them, and that would just be a mess. So he pushes away from his desk, stands, calmly walks over to his quarrelling brothers, and tries to knock their heads together. Scrapper scolds, "Fighting in medical? You both know how bad that'll look if an outsider sees you!"

Scrapper strikes you with Long Haul, meet Hook for 6 points of damage.

Scrapper strikes Hook with Hook, meet Long Haul.

CLANG goes Hook's forehead against Long Haul's, the fussy Constructicon taking a couple of staggering steps backwards. "Ow!" he says, rubbing his forehead. "Well he started it" he mumbles, turning his back on both his brothers, letting the matter drop. He's got IMPORTANT work to do. Unlike the rest of these slackers.

Scavenger actually breaks into applause. This was the most entertaining thing he's watched all week. "Aaaw, Scrapper..." he whines, "couldn't you have let /Haul/ knock him out?"

*CLANG*

"Ow!" complains the transporter. "He hit me first!" he whines as he trudges away. After all, his break was over a good while back. He's almost to the door to get back to, well, carrying stuff around when Scavenger makes it known whose side he had been on. "Ha!" Long Haul mocks.

Scrapper gives Scavenger a glare, if only for appearance's sake, and chastises, "Some random Decepticon could have wandered in here at any time, and then I'd get chewed out for not keeping you hooligans under control."