"Great. Except that doesn't fraggin' helpt at all," Cliffjumper said as he wandered back in, having had to resist the urge to use those washracks - and feeling embarrassed about wanting to use them - and then stopped staring at Mirage laying faceplate first into the plush-looking couch.

At least he thought it was a couch. It was shaped slightly funnily, and maybe that meant it had a different name, it wouldn't surprise him if it did.

"... Mirage? Hey, you okay?" Had they managed to poison him? Was he just tired? What? Cliffjumper crossed the room and hovered beside the... couch, whatever, not sure if he should touch him or not.