The Diego Diaries: Clubbin' (dd7 258)
=0=Clubbin'
They got their food and began to eat. The crowd in the restaurant were mostly youngsters out on the town. It was Second Friday and the weekend stretched out before them. Ratchet savored his dinner. "The food levels at my house are near the ceiling. Given that half the colony is going to be there I laid it in."
"There should be a lot of leftovers for you, son," Ravel said sweetly. "That's always handy with your schedule."
"Yes," Prowl said with a small smirk. "That explains it. Your schedule."
Ratchet smiled a dazzler even as he stomped Prowl's ped under the table.
Prowl sat up straighter to stare at Ratchet with a slight frown. "I intend to trounce you at bowling. Just so you know, Loon."
"Oh, Prowler, Prowler, Prowler … everyone should have dreams. Your beer looks empty." Ratchet flagged a waiter, sent a message to him and watched him disappear.
He returned swiftly and placed four beers in front of Prowl. Walking off with a grin, he busied himself with the guests who were filling up the place.
Prowl smirked at Ratchet. "You're a heathen."
"And you're a blowhard. You can't hold your liquor. Tell me your bond's name," Ratchet said with a return smirk.
Prowl stared at him, then sat forward. "I'll have you know I've only had two beers. As for my bond … everyone knows him, even The Powers. Everyone knows Otimus." He sat back in triumph, picked up a beer, then took a deep swig.
Ratchet chuckled. "Never change, Prowler. Never change."
Huge laughter greeted that as Delphi and Turbine exchanged glances. They would stay sober with Scout and Alor. At least, Alor would take longer to get blotto. Someone had to be the adult.
They ate a huge dinner together, a group of friends, family and comrades. Soon they would take a walk on the wild and wobbly side toward the bowling alley in another place.
Somewhere.
If anyone was sober enough to remember, that's where they'd be. It would be a terribly amusing dinner for everyone.
=0=Up there
They came and came, getting plates and beer. Then a last knock was heard. Springer leaned over to open the door. Outside standing in the hallway with barely a hold on his emotions was Rockwell. Springer glanced at the elders.
The elders grinned.
"Come in, Rockwell," Raptor said. "Grab a plate and beer. Don't stand on ceremony. In fact, don't stand. I have room right here," he said nodding to the couch where he was sitting. He had his peds up on an ottoman and he was on his way to blotto town.
Rockwell walked in stiffly, glanced around, then walked to the table nearby to fill a plate. All of it was amazing and various and the beer was cold. He turned to look at Raptor, then walked over to sit as far away from him at the other end of the couch as he could.
Raptor grinned. "I was going to ask the other two to come but they're back with the family. Both of them are doing well, Pico especially."
Everyone stared at Raptor and the nOOb, their fascination with the ghastly unease in Rockwell mesmerizing. He didn't say a thing but struggled to balance everything. He did, then began to eat silently.
"Rockwell here is getting the knack of bombs," Raptor said. "Uncle Sun and Uncle Jack told me that he doesn't have much fear around them anymore." He looked at Rockwell. "Good on you, old son."
Everyone grinned, then the conversation began to pick up again.
"What's the word on the Valles? I heard there's going to be a camping run sometime this weekend," Hercy said. "Might go on bivouac myself if there's enough beer and snacks."
Laughter greeted that. There would be.
"We bivouacked in the caldera a while ago. One side of Olympus Mons is sloped. Most of it is six miles straight upward but one side is either collapsed or eroded. You can climb into the caldera in about a joor or so," Springer said as Drift nodded. "Its flat but the view of the galaxy is amazing."
"They have science stations there, right?" Bumblebee asked as he sat on the floor near a window with First Aid.
"They do. Most of them are in the other calderas. There's a bunch of them inside the big one. That fragger is one huge volcano. Good thing its not going to do anything probably ever again," Springer replied.
"Given that its responsible for 40 percent of the planet, I think I'm gratified as well," Drift said with a smirk. "I hate volcanoes. I'm glad the forward base isn't on Io anymore."
"Scientists. They want what they want," Kup said. "I hated landing a ship and have it sink when it breaks through the crust."
Rockwell busied himself with his food and drink. He didn't know most of the mechs in the room and he didn't want to. He'd seen most of them around but they were just background people. The family, the generals and all of the relations, he knew them and he hated all of them. He should be home with Periodic rather than sitting here doing this or rotting in the brig. It didn't occur to him that it was totally in his servos how long this would go on.
The conversations, humorous and ribald by the mechs continued on as the evening rolled out. Beer and high grade flowed and so did the bullshit. Rockwell was totally out of his depth.
=0=On the way to the bowling alley
They walked out, some of them swaying just a bit to head for the bowling alley down the street and two blocks up. Prowl was feeling no pain and neither was Alor. Ratchet would take a bit longer to fall on his face given his internal configuration. The others were sober though Joon was 'toying' with the idea of 'getting loaded'.
It was cold and dark overhead but the lights of the city were bright. Businesses were still open, bars, clubs and restaurants. The movie theaters were going great guns. The streets were crowded with pedestrians going out on the town and it was festive. Wandering along, they found the bowling alley, then walked inside. It took a while to get the balls right, then they found four lanes side-by-side.
Prowl was swaying next to Ratchet. "I'm going to be in that lane," he said as he walked over and set his ball down. "Whoever wants to win, be on my team."
Everyone stared at him, then glanced at each other.
Prowl frowned. "Fine. I'll beat all of you myself."
"I'll be on your team, son," Miler said sweetly. Joon and Edict, Madura and Bron-E joined him because he was clearly drunk on his aft.
Everyone divided up, then Ratchet took his ball. He walked to the line, considered the math, then rolled the ball onward. He took all the pins out. Dancing back, skippity-hopping to his chair, he sat back with a grin. "BEER! I NEED BEER! Strike, Prowler."
Prowl who was sitting with his group rose, then picked up his ball. "We'll see about that."
Miler who was getting ready to bowl glanced back at his son. "You go, Prowl."
"Yeah. YOU GO, PROWLER!" Ratchet said.
Huge laughter emanated from everywhere including total strangers.
Prowl frowned at everyone, then turned to the lane. Doing a number of complicated math algorithms, he then let the bowl go. It rolled forward, skipped his lane and took out a rack of pins two lanes over. He stared at it, then swaggered back. "STRIKE!"
"You have to hit your own pins, son," Miler said.
"Show me the rules," Prowl said as he smirked at Ratchet. He walked over and sat. Leaning back, he glanced over at Ratchet. "I, Prowl, did strike them all down."
Ratchet laughed. "MY TURN!" He rose and retrieved his ball. He swaggered up, then rolled it.
Strike number two.
Delphi who was on Ratchet's team sat back with a grin. "It appears that we're along as spectators."
"I think they're drinking too much, too fast," Ravel said with a slight tone of disapproval.
Ratchet swayed a bit, then turned to the group. He smiled. "STROKE!"
"Strike, Loon," Prowl said as he staggered over to get his ball. "Watch this," he said with a slight slur. He walked to the lane, set the ball down, then nudged it forward. He followed it to the pins, then pushed it into them. Nine of them fell and one stood. Prowl kicked it, then walked back in triumph. "STRIKE TWO!"
"This is going to be a great night," Turbine said as he sat next to Delphi.
"I agree," Delphi said with a laugh.
=0=Up there
"That gang, then, is still up and running?" Jack asked as he sipped a cold one. He was going back for more food but decided he needed to wait for his 'second wind'.
"They are," Drift said. "The problem with it remains the same. The genitors support their kids and its like cracking a brick wall when they give alibis so freely."
Rockwell listened to the conversation. Gangs were a problem all during his youth on Cybertron. Low caste gangs roamed like marauders and it meant that the districts they lived in be gated and guarded.
"Slagging high castes," Hercy said. "They don't help anyone doing that. But then, they made a lot of shanix off their kid's activities."
Rockwell glanced at Hercy.
Sun grinned. "The worst gang we have here is high caste. Maybe you heard of them. They call themselves the Coppos."
Rockwell had and even had dealings with them in the past. He stared at Sun. "Why would you think I know them?"
"I don't know. They seem right up your alley," Sun replied. "They have no respect. They think they can take what they want. They're sense of entitlement is huge. Their genitors cover for them. That's the worst part. They don't raise their children to have respect or any sense of decency."
Rockwell sat back staring at Sun with a rising sense of outrage. "Maybe they love their kids. Maybe they want to help them with the … what is it you call it? The new paradigm? You have a problem with high castes. That's what's wrong with you."
It was silent in the room as the mechs watched the show. Rockwell had a lot of bearings and oddly enough, that he spoke to Sun that way made him rise in their estimation. They still hated his ideas and sense of entitlement but they admired his guts, as misplaced as they were.
Sun snickered. "Helping them with criminal activities. I would love to ask them what part of their cowardly behavior gave them the right to act the way they do. I consider their genitors total failures to allow their kids to be predatory criminals."
"Well, that's your opinion," Rockwell said. He felt no pain. Two beers weren't enough to free him completely but it was enough for him to not give a frag if he was impertinent or rude. He had his own feelings and he wasn't going to hide them, especially if anyone asked.
Drift sat back against the wall, then leaned slightly into Springer. :This could get good:
Springer grinned. :I hope so:
=0=Alley
They bowled, all of them at last. Prowl was getting his drunk on and when it was clear to Ratchet that there were those remaining sober, so was he. Neo and Laret who bowled with their senior group in a league wiped up the floor with all of them.
Prowl wandered around when it was his turn and never once made the ball stay in his lane. When the last score was tabulated, Neo's team won.
"Frag," Ratchet said. "THIS CALLS FOR A CELEBRATION! Anyone up for dancing?"
It was unanimous.
=0=Up there
"Where did you live, Rockwell?" Sunstreaker asked as he sat down beside his brother. He had dessert and another beer.
"Why?" Rockwell asked. He felt oddly free.
"I want to know if Sideswipe and I robbed you at any time in the past," Sunny said with a grin.
"Me, too," Drift said with a grin.
All around the room, voices chimed in.
Optimus watched them do so and considered that he had led a motley crew all these vorns. Given that he was feeling no pain himself, he almost wished he could chime in, too, but he'd been a good boy all his life, so …
=0=TBC 4-18-2020 4-27-2020