The Diego Diaries: Clubbin' (dd8 362)
Note: We're getting up to five minutes a day of light returning and it messes with you making you tired. Then I could hardly move after shoveling snow. I HATE this. :D:D:D However, here we go. (I feel I have to check in. My ultimate and always goal is one a day for the next fifteen years or so. LOL! Hugs to one and all forever!)
=0=A check back on the status quo
"The call came just a moment ago concerning a fight going on inside. The in-house security team won't allow us in but told us that they contained the altercation in one of the many lounges this place provides for parties and small group gatherings. No one can say what's happening inside but that the fight was between mini-cons and a number of youths that may or not have arisen out of sentiment involving the System of Exception," the reporter said as a mech flew through the doors to roll in the street before colliding with a paddy wagon.
"Oh slag," Blackjack said. "I wonder if Alie is involved. He'd punch someone for that." He took it off line. :Alor. Where are you?:
After a beat Alor answered. :I'm kind of busy here, 'Jack. Call me later."
"Oh frag," Blackjack said before laughing loudly and long.
"What do you want to do, Atar?" Ironhide asked as he glanced at the others all of whom were pausing their food/beer before their faces.
"What about Stealth?" Styre asked with concern. It would take a while before he would relax totally into the moving feast that was the Skwad.
"I believe that Stealth is alright, Styre," Optimus said as he did the math. When he was finished counting it up it came to a deep and burning desire to stay where he was, drink beer and eat junk food. Yes, the Messiah of The People™ was a home boy at spark.
"Well, if you think so, Optimus," Styre said as he relaxed slightly. A huge glazed donut was calling his name from an overstuffed box nearby. Ratchet knew how to stock a party.
They would eat, drink and watch the news while 'shooting the shit' as the humans called it alternating between hearing about the 'magnificent game(s)' played in the Arena that night and the unfolding mini-con March to the Sea that was unfolding everywhere.
=0=In the bar
The mini-cons who were getting plowed at the bar were noisy and descending into their nascent underlying personality while blitzed … stature envious, surly-touchy about stature and anger-centric about their height. Most of them were good natured, happy-go-lucky and great companions and comrades in life and all its wonders. However, a number of them when drunk out of their tiny little skulls would vent the resentments that had been their lot in life for ages of time in the System of Exception where the upper castes often valued umbrella stands more than their little carcasses.
It didn't take much to set them off beyond a pile of beer, a chance encounter or remark and the general animus that was theirs when that trifecta was reached. When that happened all bets were off. Usually according to the 'mini-con code' which centered around the idea of MINI-CONS FOREVER!, a brawl would break out and breakage would commence.
It would be no exception here.
Ratchet stood in front of the Squad protecting them with his teetering body. "Wow. This is going to be a good one. A brawl, Prowler. Imagine that?" he said with a dazzling smile.
Prowl who was teetering next to him with a dazzling frown nodded. "Slaggers. I'm going to arrest as many as I can grab."
"I'll help you," a grim sounding voice said from somewhere closer to the ground than both of them.
Ratchet and Prowl looked down to see Docker crick her neck, then her knuckles. She ran forward to disappear into the mad(dening) crowd. "OH FRAG, AMMA/DOCKER!" -both of them.
Ratchet stepped forward after Docker and was pulled into a churning maw of fists and faces, biting denta and tiny kicks. It was a big enough surge that he disappeared into the crowd which was flowing backward toward the dance floor like a reverse ebb tide. He was gone in a wink.
Turbine, Delph and Alor who were in agreement to get slag faced staggered to their peds. "RATCHET! DOCKER!" They staggered forward and were jumped by both mini-con and 'normal' alike. They disappeared as well.
Prowl who was watching the exit of a large portion of the Squad into the teeming maw of the fight glanced back to see what the others were doing. It was enlightening. It would have been, that is, if he wasn't shitfaced and teetering.
Kestrel was standing in front of Stealth who was pressed against the wall with surprise and a bit of fright. He was still a work in progress. Kestrel who was Optimus Prime big was shielding most of those at his end of the bench with his body. Kestrel of Iacon had worked in steel and construction all of his life and had strength that his son would find testing if they arm wrestled. He could have waded into the crowd and post holed everyone in the fight but his nature was gentle and retiring, a situation that was both his own and that shaped by life and hardship.
He protected those behind him though the crowd was moving away from them and the flying bottles, chairs and other implements were also going the other way. Scout, Edict, Madura, a startled appearing Bron-E who was standing beside Edict with her arms around him, Miler, Ravel and Corr were staring at Prowl, then Kestrel.
Bluestreak glanced at them, then Prowl. "Atar. What are you going to do about this? I don't think you're in any condition to-"
Then Prowl cracked his own knuckles before stepping out to do battle with the slaggers.
"What do we do, Bluestreak?" Miler asked with disquiet.
"I think we wait to see what happens. My internal army comm system told me that the Emergency Services Center in Fort Max is sending Watchmen to come and handle this. I want all of you to stay behind me and Kestrel. Kestrel," Blue said as he glanced at the big tense mech, "I don't want you to do anything but look menacing. I don't think anyone will bother you."
Kes glanced at Blue, then the fight disappearing into the dance area and lounges beyond. "I think no one here will be bothered. The fight is going that way."
It was. Thankfully.
=0=The Hourly News
" … and the Emergency Services Center at Fort Max has dispatched Watchmen and femmes to handle the outbreak of violence at The Crystal Ball in Retriades. It would appear that a contingent of mini-con mechs and others broke into a fight in the Red Lounge of the establishment. The dance floor which encompasses that part of the building to the largest degree was filled with party goers celebrating the end of the first two games of the Martian Basketball League when the altercation broke out. Its not clear how it started but assistance is on the way …"
Sitting around the room telling yarns and imbibing, the mechs considered the problem before them. Their bonds were surely in the middle of it given their status as soldiers. No soldier would let that go if they were nearby and able to help. That meant at least but no less than Alor, Ratchet, Prowl, Scout, Bluestreak, Turbine and Delphi would be fighting someone or post holing someone at the moment.
Tagg who was having an off line conversation with Kestrel glanced at his son. "Your Ada just told me that he and most of the others are alright and waiting for the fighting to stop. Prowl, Turbine, Delphi, Alor and Ratchet are in the middle of it. Bluestreak is helping protect the others along with your ada though it would appear the fight has moved away from them."
Optimus appeared relieved a moment. "I would go there myself if there was any danger to them."
"You'd bump into the door trying to get out," Ironhide said with a grin. Two beers was enough for Optimus. "Why does it take so little to get you slag faced, Optimus? The Matrix perhaps?"
"You don't think the Matrix can get drunk do you?" Lucien asked, himself slag faced.
The others glanced toward Prime.
Prime waited for clarification which he didn't get. He shrugged slightly.
Laughter greeted that as everyone watched horse back patrols arrive at the scene of the club. Drift, Springer, Lon, Hercy, Kup, Bezel, Splice, Hot Rod and Smokey hopped off and ran inside together.
"This is going to get interesting," Prime said with a slight grin.
His father nodded. "I agree."
One of them was slag faced, sweetly so and the other was sober as a judge enjoying his boy having a good time. Given that Kestrel was safe, all was well in Tagg's world.
=0=Entering the place of contention
They ran inside, saw the fighting down the way and pushed past people being herded out of the building. None of them weren't especially upset and some were ready to rumble. A few punches from the security of the bars took care of that bad idea.
They gathered together, the patrol as Springer began to formulate the plan. As he did the group walked past him toward the fight. He turned to watch them as they did. Frowning deeply, he stared after them in disgust. "What the unholy frag."
"What's the plan? I'll listen," Drift said with a slight chuckle. It ended when Springer glanced at him with a look of betrayal. "Uh, what do you wanna do?"
Springer smirked slightly. "Well, given the first plan is out of the question, how about we go kick some aft?"
"Lead on," Drift said.
The frown came back. "Frag that. I'M the slagging boss here and they do this every single time," Springer said as he walked toward the brawl.
"Maybe you need to kick some aft among the troops, sport," Drift said quietly as he followed Springer with a grin.
"I HEARD THAT!" Springer called back to him as the fight found both of them.
=0=In the hotel room
"Well, that looks like fun. We're always a day late and a shanix short. If I could feel my peds I'd go there and join in," Ironhide said as his uncles and other elders nodded.
"You'd never make it far past the door," Sun said as he ate a handful of Oreos. The games were forgotten in light of the floor show going on in Retriades. They would drink beer, all but Tagg, Venture and Porteus until everyone was slag faced and drifting off to recharge. It would take a while.
=0=At the scene of the altercation
Ratchet felt himself dragged this way and that periodically punctuated with a fist to the noggin. He saw Prowl for a moment but it was fleeting. The one he was looking for was Docker. He pressed onward buffeted from side to side until the crowd parted for a second and he saw her. She was hanging onto a mini-con mech like someone taking a piggy back ride. She was also punching him in the face with her tiny fists of fury.
Then the crowd closed together.
"AAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
TBC 02-08-2022
English as a second language words:
animus: (an-ih-mus) a fancy word for anger
trifecta: its a thing where three things come together to make Win. Three good deeds, three bad deeds, anything that comes in threes can make a trifecta. Its usually a term you hear in horse racing and betting.
March to the sea: during the American Civil War the Union army marched through Georgia destroying things that helped the Southern or Confederate army going to make the war end. Its still a touchy topic among some at Thanksgiving dinner.
anger-centric: centric meaning center or central. Anger-centric means anger in the middle of something like their tiny little sparks.
disquiet: concern.
altercation: (all-ter-kay-shun) a fancy way to say a fight or disturbance.
yarns: old fashioned word for stories. Yarning is telling the stories. Also, a lesser usage is to use it to mean a lie or fibbing story. Fibs are harmless lies and fibbing is to tell harmless lies.
