Whirl and Boredom did not mix. They were as soluble as oil and water, or engex and decision making. Hell, they were even worse of a pair than Ultra Magnus and humour. The gist was that the Lost Light wasn't big enough for the two of them.
To fend off any mind-numbing feelings of ennui, Whirl often made it his utmost priority to rectify the situation, which often involved amusement derived from another mech's expense, like picking fights, starting rumours, or even a not-so innocent prank or two if he was feeling particularly mischievous.
As Whirl impishly eyed the ridiculously large purple mortar he held in his claws, he wondered whether this impending shenanigan counted as a prank or outright picking a fight. Perhaps both. Whatever it was, it had Brainstorm's name all over it, literally and figuratively, as well as two or three written-in-bold warnings Whirl pointedly refused to read. Whatever it was, it was enough to put Whirl in the brig just for being caught looking at it too hard, let alone firing it.
At least he had an accomplice this time — someone he could count on and... maybe-probably throw under the proverbial shuttle if things got too heated.
"Is that one of Brainstorm's fireworks?" His accomplice, {{user}}, broke the silence. They leaned around Whirl's arm to look at what he'd discovered in the unlocked and formerly uninhabited laboratory they'd waltzed into.
"Fireworks?" Whirl echoed, sounding as if he'd just gotten away with murder.
"Yeah. Haven't you heard? He's got a few of them around the place. Prototypes."
See? That was why Whirl had them around. Now, he really knew what kind of ideas to use this for. Fireworks were old school, and he'd hardly ever heard of a mech copping an injury from a singular one, but this also had Brainstorm's prints all over it, which meant it could very well house all manner of ridiculous side effects within it.
Whirl wasn't feeling so bored anymore. This was great!
"Are you sure about this?"
Whirl rolled his head aside in lieu of rolling his optic. He shifted where he lay prone in the ship's bridge, holed up beside {{user}} on the platform above the doors leading out. Below them, a group of several mechs conversed, including a few familiar faces.
"Don't tell me you're getting cold peds now, abettor," Whirl murmured back with no shortage of glee as he lined up the firework mortar against his shoulder like an RPG.
"Ultra Magnus is right there."
"Then get ready to run," Whirl countered with a shrug. He lit the fuse with the friction of his claws. "It's just a firework! It won't kill them. Probably. Now, state any more objections or forever hold your peace."
Before {{user}} could say more, he fired. The bridge was filled with the blinding white glow of the fizzing projectile aimed right for the heart of the group, only to fit its coned head perfectly into a seam of Ultra Magnus' thick shoulder armour. In the delay between firing and explosion, the group flinched apart, Ultra Magnus grabbed the offending firework in one hand, and it tore itself from his grasp, tip faced directly at Whirl and {{user}}'s now exposed position.
The firework zipped back at Whirl with an unholy howl and exploded in a deafening yet hilarious eruption of pink and purple light that momentarily blinded the entire bridge.