Vortex snickered where he sat in the corner of the rec room at Combaticon HQ. The obvious reason for his usual attitude would be that he had recently been called on for his function as an interrogator. Since he knew it was not that, and he was also well aware that the helicopter had not had a good frag in a while, he was left wondering what, exactly, was so funny. Not knowing what the cause was behind it was, he was left with a nagging itch in his processor to find out. Knowing his team, and what made them tick was imperative as, without that knowledge, he might not be able to implement his plans effectively as he should. That could be detrimental to their health since successful missions were the only ones that had them getting slagged much less.
A quickly cut off, full-throated laugh had him marching over to the helicopter and yanking the datapad from his hands. Ignoring the protests, he flipped it around so that he could read the text that was revealed.
"What in frag are you reading?" he asked a few short moments later. "There are no such things as orcs or elves!"
Vortex laughed again. "So what? The elves just slaughtered the band of orcs! I wanna read what happens next!"
Onslaught tossed the datapad at the interrogator, who caught it quickly before it could be damaged further. The way he stormed out of the room could only be described as furious, but Vortex was already too engrossed in his novel again to care.
Blast Off just chuckled, glad that the tactician never thought to try and read any of his datapads. If he had, he would have, most likely, fritzed. Alien romance would have just been too weird despite the fact that they had similar equipment.
I'll give you some more files you might like later, he commed Vortex, receiving a rather excited squeal in response.