::I'm not made for stuff like this,:: Cliffjumper complained, wishing the chair had somewhere he could put his feet - as it was, they were left dangling. It was a good thing the table hid his feet.

He wouldn't have been able not to scowl if he'd caught someone staring and then smiling, or something. He still was somewhat uncomfortable with the last mech... he pushed that thought away at Mirage's explanation and frowned, then smoothed his expression out again.

::What, there's gonna be more stuff? What can we even do at a table aside from refuel?:: It wasn't even that Cliffjumper was particularly hungry or anything, just confused and now annoyed.