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I’ve been quiet on this account lately, but I have not intentions of dropping it.
“Yeah, we’ve been keeping busy alright. Empress keeping you busy too~?” Oh ew, why’d he just imagine that, that’s gros— Actually, wait, it’s not quite as gross as it is hilarious. “Pfff, bet it takes you guys a whole week just to finish once, ahahaha.”
(Ah, those jokes just never get old!)
“There’s a whole Hive of Megalons out there? Better not let Esmeral hear that; you two have enough pets as it is!” Blue Bacchus has never been able to think of the Breastforce as anything other than pets. He also has always kind of wanted one for himself and sometimes (usually after a few drinks but not always) he would ask Deathsaurus if he’d be willing to sell Hellbat. “Speaking of which, my offer from last time still stands, three cases of energon whiskey and an authentic antique eight-track player. You know it’s a great deal~”
Catching sight of Skyquake’s smirk, he returns one of his own. “Who’s this Doreddo-uingu? You spark-bonded too or something? This thing’s turning into some kinda husbandos’ night out.”
He takes a moment to ponder if the two Cybertrons count as waifus or husbandos, and concludes that they’re also just pets. Regardless, the smaller Cybertron’s brief story is pretty much the most hilarious thing he’s heard all week.
“Okay, sometime after this party, we definitely need to head to the Death Zone because I’ve gotta see that Cybertron KO’ing a kaiju. That’s priceless!” A thoughtful pause. “Well, almost priceless, can’t let myself get too crazy there. Black Shadow wouldn’t approve, which would mean no blow jobs.” He says that last part in another ~whisper~. “And no blow jobs really sucks… Well, I guess it actually doesn’t suck at all, but not in a good way, you know what I mean, whatever. What was I talking about again? Oh right, the Death Zone! It’s probably good weather for a barbecue right around now too! What d’you say, Emperor? About time to visit home?”
When the Pocky game finally gets underway, he says “aw yeah, the Cybertrons are going at it now!” and watches. (¬‿¬)
Viewing every competition - be it a quiet chess match or a silly drinking game such as this one - in the same way the average person might only view an intense boxing match, he proceeds to cheer/heckle the participants:
“Come on, use some tongue! Grope each other! Finish him off with an oral suplex!”
What that last one even means is anyone’s guess.
Hardshell glanced around silently and fidgeted. Pets? Megalons? This was a really…interesting party. The Insecticon watched the as the game commenced and he scratched his neck unsurely. He considered just watching the whole thing from the sidelines. He didn’t really think it would be a good idea. The others would probably be disgusted with the idea of kissing him or… more, as what the mech heckling the two currently let on.
Cybertrons? Destrons? Skyquake assumes that’s what Autobots and Decepticons are called in the universe these… stranger mechs come from. Pocky games. A place called the Death Zone. Kaijus, whatever the pit those are. What an odd bunch.
When the two Autobots… Cybertrons… whatever, start to play the game, he feels like this might have been a bad idea. Skyquake was just looking to maybe hang out, get drunk and arm wrestle, not tongue wrestle.
The words of the one talkative mech, Blue Bacchus, distracts him however. “Doreddo… oh,” he says, understanding the dialect the mech is using. “Yeah, Dreadwing. My brother.” He then can’t stop himself from raising a brow and asking, “What’s a… husbando? And the Death Zone?”
He shoots a look over to Hardshell at the mechs heckling of the two Autobots, and he can tell the Insecticon is slightly uncomfortable with this idea too. Skyquake just figures he’ll play the game poorly and lose. That’ll involve getting drunk quicker anyway.
Traveling together has a few benefits, one of them being that you can just visit your merry fellow travelers and borrow things that you might have run out of. However, that advantage also comes with some disadvantages when the merry fellow travelers are wanted criminals, dead people, murderous psychopaths and a nice yet somehow scary Cybertron.
But Misfire got this. He’ll just walk over really quick, ask and then fuck off again at- Is that a party? As he walks through the doorway he suddenly finds himself in an unexpectedly full room, occupied by a myriad of people he only vaguely recognizes or doesn’t know at all.
He can’t really just turn around and pretend that he’s actually invisible, so he remains frozen on the spot and looks at all the strange visitors. “Oh…hi.” he says to no one in particular.
Braver nods and gives the other Cybertron a shy smile, hoping to come across as encouraging. He often forgets that Pipes, like most other mechs from the Lost Light’s universe, is much older (and, consequently, more experienced) than many of the mechs from Braver’s (well, at least the ones with whom the blue Brainmaster is personally acquainted). Thus, Braver assumes that Pipes is quite similar to Cybertrons like himself, Laster (he’ll deny it, though), the Multiforce, and the Rescue Force: naive, shy, and very easily-embarrassed, even by something as chaste as a little kiss.
Once the Game commences, Braver imagines that Pipes must be feeling rather nervous about this whole crazy kissing thing, so he simply lets the Pocky rest in his mouth, allowing the other bot to take the first few bites at his own pace.
It is only then that he realizes the awkwardness caused by their height difference. He can’t transform into Brain-mode now, not without snapping the Pocky, so he makes a mental note to do if they get paired up later on. In fact, he’ll go ahead and do that after this “match” either way; it must be kind of disconcerting to be around so many giant Destron bakas, so Pipes might appreciate having someone smaller around too! In the mean time, he kneels down, moving slowly and steadily so as to not to preemptively snap the Pocky (can’t have that!).
When Blue Bacchus commences his commentary, Braver resists the urge to chuckle; it just reminds him a lot of how the Rescue Force would mercilessly heckle Holi during Pocky Games - especially whenever he got paired up with Clipper~
Not letting the noisy Destron throw him off, he takes a few bites, then pauses as he waits for Pipes. Repeating this simple pattern several times, it isn’t long before he feels the other bot’s lips pressed against his own.
This is when Braver finds himself hesitating. Should he… do something else? Whenever he played this game in the past, this part would be when both bots would recoil from each other and flail dramatically while giggling and/or yelling “ewww!” The Destrons assembled here now seem to be expecting more of a performance, though… Well, he’d hate to disappoint Overlord, so if Pipes is up for it…
Braver lightly places his hands on Pipes’s shoulders as he shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, signaling the start of a potential “real” kiss.
Overlord adjusts himself in his seat so that he ends up looking a lot like he did when he forced mechs to fight to the death on Garrus-9. While Braver and Pipes talk before getting started, he turns to Deathsaurus to whisper in his audio, “I hope you’re good at this game if we get paired up.”
He notices Pipes’ eagerness and chuckles, since to him it looks like he’s dying to lip lock with Braver. And when Braver goes in for the kill, he leans forward just a bit.
Pipes’s mind is on the pocky when he feels Braver’s lips meet his, and for a moment it startles him that the other mech didn’t pull away. Still, it’s not terribly troubling. Pipes has spoken to Braver before, he seems like a nice mech and if the only thing he has to worry about during this game is a chaste kiss from a sweet mech then… then Braver’s hand is moving gently to Pipes’s shoulders, and the truck feels the lips against his part, and oh, okay this is—how does he respond to this?
Pipes hesitates for a moment, awkwardly, his fingers curling and uncurling in the open air. A movement out of the corner of his eye catching his attention: it’s Overlord, sprawled in a chair as if it’s a throne, leaning forward to watch them.
Okay, decision made.
Pipes responds to the kiss, slowly and perhaps a bit hesitantly; it’s been a long time since anything like this has happened to him, and Braver’s certainly a lot bigger. His lips part, and he lets his own optics dim, feeling Braver’s breath hot against his tongue, tasting the lingering sweetness in the other mech’s mouth from the treat that he had just eaten. The smaller Cybertronian is pliant and willing against Braver, ready to let the other lead the kiss.
Even if Blue Bacchus’s heckling kind of makes him want to punch the guy.
Deathsaurus shoots a look at Blue Bacchus for “all week” comment. “THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH TAKING YOUR TIME. YOU YOUNGER MECHS COULD LEARN THAT,” he says, pointedly.
When Overlord adjusts himself in his seat, Deathsaurus can’t help but admire him for a moment. He wonders if Esmeral would mind… sharing him sometime in the future. It had been a long time since they’d done anything like that. He smirks at Overlord whispering in his audio. “OH, DON’T WORRY. I HAVE A LOT OF PRACTICE AT THIS GAME.”
He turns his attention from Overlord to the two Cybertrons and smiles at the awkward kissing, chuckling low in his throat. “I DON’T RECALL YOU BEING SO FORWARD, BRAINMASTER,” he says to Braver.
BURDFUCK for Iron Goldie.
Couldn’t find any good references for Esmeral, although I hear that she’s actually supposed to be about the same size as Deathsaurus. My bad.
Aimless cocks his head and turns his datapad over, typing away, he grins when he turns it over, and punctuates his display with an electronic chirrup.
“You live in a place called Death Zone? That sounds like Planet Master.”
He pauses for a moment to type again, and holds up another message, chuckling to himself. He wrinkles his nose in a mischievous grin as he turns the datapad back over. It’s obvious that he’s joking a bit.
“I guess I know what I’m doing if I end up there.”
AH YES, PLANET MASTER. I AM FAMILIAR WITH IT.
[Deathsaurus chuckles at the response.]YOU ARE WELCOME TO COME. DESPITE ANY RUMORS, WE WELCOME VISITORS AND ADVENTURERS.
Aimless gives a rather chipper beeping noise that is almost certainly an affirmative, and he flips Deathsaurus a lazy salute. He doesn’t think that he’ll be in the death zone anytime soon, but if so, at least he has a contact there.
[Deathsaurus smirks at the salute and the beep, and nods his head in return. If anything, people with the guts to go to the Death Zone were rather respected among his kind.]
deathsaurus replied to your post: There are some organics who are just your size. Ever think of getting one in bed? I’d expect that you’d be most familiar with humanoids, but don’t limit yourself to that. Plenty of tentacle creatures list mechanoids as their favorite victims. I hear that some are even easy to tame.IF YOU EVER MAKE IT TO THE DEATH ZONE, PLEASURING ONES SELF WITH A SAPIENT KAIJU IS LEGAL, SO LONG AS THE KAIJU AGREES. WE HAVE MANY OF THE TENTACLED VARIETY HERE, AND IN MANY SIZES.
Aimless cocks his head and turns his datapad over, typing away, he grins when he turns it over, and punctuates his display with an electronic chirrup.
“You live in a place called Death Zone? That sounds like Planet Master.”
He pauses for a moment to type again, and holds up another message, chuckling to himself. He wrinkles his nose in a mischievous grin as he turns the datapad back over. It’s obvious that he’s joking a bit.
“I guess I know what I’m doing if I end up there.”
AH YES, PLANET MASTER. I AM FAMILIAR WITH IT.
[Deathsaurus chuckles at the response.]
YOU ARE WELCOME TO COME. DESPITE ANY RUMORS, WE WELCOME VISITORS AND ADVENTURERS.
“Sure am. You two are pals?” Blue Bacchus resists the urge to ask Hardshell and Skyquake if they have need for a bounty hunter in their universe; it doesn’t seem like an appropriate topic to discuss in the Emperor’s presence. “Eh, you know how Cybertrons are sometimes.”
He continues to carry Pipes around under his arm as he talks, momentarily distracted by the other guests.
“Heh, well, he’s kinda worn out, you know,” he says to Overlord, wearing that little smirk on his face. (¬‿¬) Lowering his voice to a false whisper, he adds: “We were totally interfacing. For like a week, nonstop. Yeah, I know, I’m that good.”
“Anyway, if some rock is all you remember, then you missed out on all the sights and definitely still need a tour guide!” He finally acknowledges Pipes again and sets him down. “Never met a Cybertron so eager to get wasted before. Have you, Emperor? Ever manage to get Star Saber drunk? He seems like just the type to wuss out during a pocky game.”
Hardshell glances down to his arm after he is lightly punched by the bulky Seeker and tilts his head. He slowly smiles, though it still looks awkward for the Insecticon’s face. He nods to Skyquake and mimics the punch, restraining his strength for the most part. “I needed some time away. But, I let my Hive know this time. I’ll be back there if anything…else happens.”
However, he soon spots a strangely small mech and stares at him silently. Could it be a youngling was brought here by mistake. He waves to Skyquake before approaching him.
“Hello,” he begins softly and keeps staring down at him, surprised by how…small he was.
A game with no factions? Skyquake had probably not played a game since long before the war, before there even were factions. This would be… interesting.
Hardshell gives him a punch back on the arm, a surprisingly gentle one. It’s actually gentler than the ones he and Dreadwing give one another. “Yeah, I let Dreadwing know I was going out drinking. He’ll contact me if I’m needed.”
Skyquake returns the wave when Hardshell turns to the smaller mech. He arches a brow at that, but says nothing. He overhears Blue Bacchus bragging about interfacing with his partner and Skyquake smirks at that.
He turns to the blue Autobot with the gatling gun like weapon, and asks him “So do we sit down for this game, or what?” He seems to be the one who knows the rules.
“Yeap, everyone sits around in a circle and goes up, two at a time. I can go first to demonstrate, but I’ll need another volunteer~!”
He pulls a single Pocky stick out of the box and walks to the center of the room.
“Oh hi, Pipes!” he greets the other Cybertron with a smile. “Glad you could make it. Wanna give it a try? We’ll show these Destron yatsura how it’s done!”
“I’m not surprised,” he says in response to Blue Bacchus, taking a moment to leer specifically at Pipes before he continues to watch while he and Braver demonstrate.
Overlord is particularly curious about Deathsaurus and decides to stare until the other notices him. He has a particular knack for stares that raise the hair on the back of your neck.
Pipes, of course, can hear Blue Bacchus’s stage-whispered bragging, but he doesn’t care. His mind is on the fuel. When Hadrshell approaches him, Pipes looks up… and up, and up at the enormous Insecticon. “Hey there.” He stares up at the other mech, not any more nervous than he is around the other gathered Decepticons, but unsure what to say.
He decides to answer Deathsaurus while also acknowledging Hardshell. “I think? Does the Death Zone have these… like, these weird giant monsters? I, er, got chased a few times. I had to put one or two down.” Looking at Pipes, it’s probably laughable to think that such a comparatively tiny mech could handle a kaiju, any kaiju. “But…” and then Braver’s talking to him, and Braver has the energon sticks, so Braver takes immediate precedence over these fellows. “Be right back.”
He begins to step forward, and while doing so, he doesn’t miss Overlord’s stare, and he’s reminded, for a moment, that the moment he ceases to be entertaining here, he’ll probably end up being made entertaining somewhere else (and also probably end up in pieces). He pauses, suddenly intimidated and self-conscious, dithering at the edge of the circle.
Right. The game. But also fuel. Most importantly, the fuel. The fuel he hasn’t had a taste of in almost two months. That fuel.
Pipes retracts his mask and visor. He’s not much to look at, with a rather plain face except for a distinctively hooked nose. His optics are wide and red and utterly fixated on the food. “Hey, Braver. Long time no see! And yeah, sure thing.” Man, he’s never been happier to see a plate of energon sticks. “I’ll try and do the faction proud, Braver,” he replies, a hint of his customary dry humor returning to him. “Okay, so… I just eat at it?”
Once he receives further clarification, he opens his mouth (feeling like a fool as he does it, but too hungry to care). The moment he feels the energon stick against his tongue, it’s over. Pipes isn’t giving this one up, nope. His first bite is somewhat tentative, his second a bit bigger, and by the third he’s giving the energon stick a little tug with his teeth. His arms are half-raised at his sides, but Braver in his normal mode is too tall for him to comfortably touch, so his hands just linger there, somewhat awkwardly.
He’s not going to back down, though. Unless Braver pulls away, he won’t stop until their lips meet.
Deathsaurus snorts and rolls his optics behind the red shields over them at Blue Bacchus’s bragging. He was used to it. ”NICE SO SEE YOU AND BLACK SHADOW HAVE KEPT ONE ANOTHER BUSY,” he says. He scans the group again, thinking to himself that if Esmeral were here, she’d probably try to cuddle the Insecticon. She finds creatures like that adorable. And he looks again at the green mech, Skyquake, and considers asking him what his alt mode is.
He listens to Pipes for a moment when he speaks. ”MMM, YES, THAT’S THE DEATH ZONE. HOME SWEET HOME.” He actually smiles at that, a small, genuine smile, not one of his smirks he makes when he gets his way. For a moment he’s slightly impressed the small Cybertron took down a kaiju, if his claims were true. But soon the other is distracted by the pocky, and moves over to Braver to awkwardly begin to play the game.
Deathsaurus moves to sit down in a chair, slightly too small for him. Still, it’s better than the floor, where his wings will eventually get cramped. He soon notices Overlord staring at him, with interest. He locks optics with the other and gazes back, a slight smirk on his lips. He had to admit, he was quite a pretty one, and Deathsaurus didn’t mind his attentions at all.
After completely failing to convince Black Shadow to come with him, Blue Bacchus turns around to find a portal conveniently materialize before him. What great service!
Upon passing through it, the first words out of his mouth are, “Yo, Emperor! Did you bring the moonshine?”
He then nods and waves at the other Destrons. “Hey, Mothra and Megalon,” he says, referring to Skyquake and Hardshell respectively, “you guys here to get totally wasted too? Nice.”
He’s about to make a beeline straight for the booze, when a small figure curled up by the wall catches his eye. The frag is that? Overlord better not be dragging random Cybertron corpses in here for decorating! It’s much more profitable to sell them for scrap. Oh wait, that one’s moving, never mind then.
Walking over, he picks the tiny Cybertron up with one hand.
“Oh hey, I recognize you. Still looking for a tour guide, I take it?”
Hardshell steps through the portal that suddenly appears, however he jumps in alert at first. He glances around at the others present, sniffing the air curiously, approaching the treats eagerly. He pauses after hearing Blue Bacchus he glances over to him and tilts his head, pointing to himself after a moment. “…Are you speaking to me?”
After catching sight of Skyquake, he turns and stares at him with a surprised expression and taps his claws together. “Errrr. Skyquake! You’re here. Yessss.”
He stares at the bulky Seeker and smiles, though it looks awkward on the Insecticon’s expression.
For a moment, Skyquake hesitates. First, at the thought of playing a game that could end in kissing mechs other than Dreadwing, and secondly at the portal that has now formed in his quarters. After a few moments of internal debating, he decides to go through. It would be cowardly to back out, after all. He just hopes Dreadwing doesn’t get mad at him.
He sends a message to the other, letting him know he’s going drinking, and will be back, then steps through the portal with slight apprehension.
When he steps out on the other side, he finds a group of mechs he doesn’t recognize, aside from Hardshell. A couple stand even taller than Hardshell himself. He also spots a smaller Autobot, holding a device that resembles his minigun at a passing glance. He arches a brow at that, having never known anyone else who favored those sort of weapons.
Another one speaks to him, calling him ‘Mothra’ and Skyquake has no idea what that is, but responds anyway. “Skyquake,” he says. He also notices a small Autobot cowering to the side. “What’s his deal?” he asks, jutting a clawed thumb at the Autobot.
He then punches Hardshell on the arm and smirks. “At least I recognize you,” he says.
“Well, looks like everyone’s here!” Braver says, not at all perturbed by the presence of more scary-looking Destrons and oblivious to everyone else’s confusion and/or distress. Setting the portal gatling-gun aside, he runs off again, returning with a tray of high-grade and a box of energon Pocky. He feels like he should be wearing an apron right now… “Shall we get started then?”
“Black Shadow’s not coming? Oh what a pity,” he says, although there’s no sign of him feeling any loss in his voice. “Dear, little Autobot,” Overlord continues, addressing Pipes, “don’t be frightened. I just want to play a game. If you don’t participate, I’m going to have to find something else to do with you, hm.”
He takes the liberty of pouring drinks for his guests, but he’s leaving it to Braver to explain the concept of the game. “Go on, Braver.”
Pipes flinches away from Blue Bacchus’s hand as the other reaches out to grab him, but he’s not quite quick enough to keep from getting scooped up. The other’s words penetrate the haze of fear and he blinks behind his visor, “Uh… you know what? I kind of was.”
He begins to say, “Not anymore, though,” but then Overlord is speaking and he goes rigid where he hangs in Blue Bacchus’s grip. Okay. Okay, so. So. He’s stranded in an… unknown place in an unknown dimension, surrounded by a bunch of mechs who look like they could tear him apart without batting an optic, not to mention Overlord, and Overlord wants him to play a game. What does a mech do in such a situation?
He plays the damn game.
He nods mutely in response to the other’s instruction, and wriggles in Blue Bacchus’s grip with surprising strength for someone so small. “Mind setting me down?” Once he has his pedes on the floor again, he shrugs. “I was stranded on some rock for a long time. It might have been the Death Zone. Someone else though it w—oh. That’s the high grade?”
The moment he catches sight of the fuel, all other thoughts in his processor evaporate, roomful of killer mechs or no. Pipes had been running on empty for a while now, and he’s starving. “Any chance I could get an early start on that?” he calls. The high grade is going to hit him like a ton of bricks on an empty tank, but Pipes doesn’t care. Hell, it’ll probably make this situation a lot easier to deal with. He then waits for Braver’s cue, eyeing the energon sticks the other mech has with equal interest.
Deathsaurus looks at Blue Bacchus. “DON’T I ALWAYS?” he says. He had brought enough for the two of them he figures. The rest of them… well, they’d all probably go blind from it anyway.
He watches Overlord pour the drinks for everyone, and smirks at his words towards the small Autobot. It was true. If they had wanted him dead, they would have done that already. “FACTION MEANS NOTHING DURING A GAME OF POCKY,” he states. “WE OFTEN PLAYED IT BACK HOME, EVEN AMONG THOSE OF US WHO WERE RIVALS.”
When the small Autobot mentions the Death Zone to Blue Bacchus, Deathsaurus turns to them. “YOU WERE IN THE DEATH ZONE?” And he was still alive?
Having just finished whatever it was he was doing a moment ago — let’s be honest, it was probably Black Shadow’s butt — Blue Bacchus had likewise taken to scanning through his HUD, when a conversation from a local channel drew his attention.
“You guys are throwing a party? And there’s gonna be booze? Well, count me in! And Kuro-chan too, of course~” he said.
“Didn’t know you liked Pocky, Emperor,” he added, laughing at the thought of Deathsaurus munching on the popular snack — since when do old people even know what Pocky is? “I thought you’d be more the type for that weird energon porridge Esmeral makes sometimes.”
Hardshell had been watching silently, browsing the numerous channels until a certain conversation caught his attention. Perhaps he needed a break from the Nemesis. However, he would inform his Hive before departing this time.
“When will this party happen and where? Yessss.”
He wasn’t sure how the others would react to his presence, but it didn’t hurt to try.
Skyquake had been doing more repairs on the Nemesis, minor wire repairs in various sections, when at the end of the night, he had decided to go back to his quarters and relax. Dreadwing was still out and about, probably checking inventory or doing repairs himself, and without Dreadwing to annoy
or fuck,Skyquake took to scanning the channels himself.He saw a conversation about some sort of gathering, or party. Never one to turn away an excuse to get drunk, Skyquake speaks up.
“You guys getting drunk?”
“Why Rotorst—” Before Braver gets a chance to ask, the conversation gains five extra members.
Pipes and the Destrons from his universe he recognizes, but the last two are unknown to him. Pinging their comm frequencies reveals that they’re from the same dimension as that odd, cat-obsessed Prime. If the leader of the Cybertrons is anything to go by, then it’s probably some sort of… er… silly universe with completely harmless Destrons. Either way, Braver’s not worried.
“Yeah, we’re playing a drinking game! It’s called the ‘Pocky Game.’ The rules are simple. Two people take an energon Pocky stick and each one puts an end of it in his mouth. Then they both start munching down on it. The person who pulls away or drops it first has to drink. If the players end up kissing, then that round’s a tie!”
Braver pauses, thinking that this has suddenly turned into a real party! He had only been planning to invite Blue Bacchus and Black Shadow, but this seems like it’ll be fun too. So many people from so many different dimensions to transport, though…
Perfect time to test out his new portal gatling gun!
Braver scuttles away into his lab for a moment and returns holding an Absurdly Huge Weapon.
“Okay everyone, hold on~!”
Across the multiverse, five new mortals appear in rapid succession, each one leading to the same location. It was probably overkill to send five, since Blue Bacchus could just walk down the hallway and join them, but whatever — new weapon, needs testing, you can’t argue with that!
Overlord watches Braver with his chin on his hand, bemused by his attentiveness. It’s not until the arrival of the other players that he truly becomes interested, his face lifting into a smile. He’s only faintly familiar with one of the guests, the largest one, but the rest look good to him anyway, save the tiny Autobot. What is he doing here? Either way, he’ll find a way to have fun with him.
“Welcome aboard.”
Pipes had been listening to Braver’s explanation of the rules and concluding that there was really no way he could contribute (but it might still be worth it to listen in) when he was overcome by a wave of dizziness and a distinctly familiar falling-forward sensation.
He does not land in Braver’s dimension gracefully, only barely keeping himself from falling flat on his face. Pipes is more than a little confused as to what is going on, but he can sense the EM fields of several mechs around him, and for a moment he feels a surge of hope—he’s not stranded alone anymore, thank Primus—until he turns and looks to see who’s keeping him company.
The gathered mechs would all then witness an interesting phenomenon.
In one moment, Pipes is standing, head tilted in confusion, staring at all of them through his visor, and in the very next he is all the way across the room, as far as possible as he can be from the menacing silhouette of Overlord, without having seemed to have passed through the intervening space. It’s almost as if he teleported, or skittered through time just for the express purpose of putting distance between himself and that mech.
Either way, Pipes is currently huddling against the wall in mute and abject terror, and he doesn’t respond to Overlord’s very polite greeting.
The portal appears on Deathsaurus’s end, and after leaving Esmeral a note in all caps reading ‘GONE DRINKING, CONTACT ME IF YOU NEED ME’, walks through the portal, finding it to be a tight squeeze. He scowls once through the other side for just a moment. That damned Cybertron should learn how to make those things bigger.
He doesn’t voice any complaints however, or make threats at the Brainmaster or the other, smaller Cybertron onboard the ship. Frankly, he was here to drink and play a game, and didn’t care about faction for the moment.
He sees Blue Bacchus among the mechs there, and two he recognizes. Despite how many battles he’s been in, or how many times he’s gotten slagfaced on bootleg liquor, Deathsaurus never forgets a face. He sees the Insecticon, and the alternate universe Overlord. He smirks back at Overlords smile, and graciously says “THANK YOU”.
He also spots a green mech he’s never seen before, with huge antennae-like eyebrows, and for a moment wonders if he’s from the Death Zone as well. Some sort of mech with a Mothra for an alt mode.
