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“There’s no water in my tanks. At least… I hope not.” Fulcrum meeped. “And… I kind of like plastic.”

“…really?” He blinks up at Grimlock, then looks back down at the bucket he’s holding in one hand. His free hand comes up to scoop a handful of the soaked, squishy beads, giving them a little jiggle. “They get bigger than this?”

“ … No?” Fulcrum blinked. “I thought they were just… variety energon bubbles.”

“Grimlock. Orbeez.”

“Aw come on, Grimsy, I’m sure they can’t be that bad!”

“Right! Didn’t get time to last night but I got a bucket’a orbeez and I’m gonna eat ‘em.”

From sheer terror back to the comfort of humor.

“Ha.”

“… Yeah.” Fulcrum admits, because this isn’t the strangest activity anymore, and anyways… It’s fun. Which is not something he’d thought was compatible with Decepticons, but he’s happy to be wrong in this case.

“That and Misfire said something about hide and seek in the dark, which no thanks. I’d probably trip on something, or worse, have a spark attack the first time someone pops up out of nowhere.”

Funny how a frequent game became an important part of their daily, to the point they are arranging the ship’s space. Well, whatever suits them. But inventing new games, and arranging accordingly? Sounds like something they would do alright. He raises an optical ridge at the idea that originates from Misfire apperantly.

Fulcrum doesn’t squeak, at least; he’s more used to the sudden, being with the Scavengers for long enough at this point.

And Grimlock won’t hurt him.

“Storage Room Two. We’re reorganizing, putting all the unsorted stuff there.” The WAP only had so much space, after all.

“Reorganizing?” He repeats, turning to make his way down to the storage room with Fulcrum, giving him a side glance.

“Oh! Hi, Grimlock.” Fulcrum gave a sort of wave with his free hand– the other arm occupied with carrying a crate of miscellaneous parts.