shitposting rave 4: (almost) anything goes

Optimus Prime is very much alive for now, I assure you.

[He startles a little, nearly tossing the knife he's working on at the newcomer.] I'm not 'riled'. You get 'riled'. I am taking care of my equipment.

 

[He chitterclicks a greeting that almost sounds Alternian, wings flicking up.] How about we don't talk about them, hey?

Suuuure. You meant to almost stab me, totally, you aren't jittery at all.

 

-tails flick- Awright. Was just sayin´hi. -loafs up-

 

Hi yourself, then! [He grins, with significantly less fang than he flashed at Afterglow.] Medic paint or y'just like white?

 

-mock offended- I was forged white thank you very much! -grins- But no, I actually am a nurse. Sawbones of Koan, currently assigned ta the TEAM.

 

Thunderwing of frag only knows, assigned to nowhere at all as of... [he taps the Decepticon badge on his shoulder, shrugs a little.] Team, Team... That's the Republic-sanctioned diplomat ship, right? How's that working?

 

*You know that face cats make when you meow at them.*

 

[His optic band flashes rapidly like he's blinking.] Tell me I didn't just say something hilarious in Tiny Squishy Alienese.

 

you either threatened to murder them or offered to screwv their brains out and there isnt enough context to tell vwhich.

 

Why not both?

 

...I mean that is pretty damn close depending on what sw-- unit you're part of.

 

Yeah, that´s th´one. S´pretty nice havin´a fully stocked medbay fer a change.

 

-snorts a laugh- Can we save any murderin´fer later? I don´t wanna leave medbay short staffed.

 

Lucky you! [He doesn't have the right facial structure to stick his tongue out at her, but he definitely sounds amused.]

No murder, promise! For one thing Wires'd melt me down for spare parts if he found out I killed medics just for kicks. [Is he joking? The world may never know.]

 

He would not. [Afterglow rolls his eyes, smiling slightly.] He'd take you apart and let me use your plates for swords.

 

-Lacuna looks over Jhenya's shoulder at the notes.-

Ooooh... you're good at figuring stuff out, huh? You can touch if you like, I could use the help.

 

Hey, Afterglow, who's your friend?

 

One of my... [he pauses, clearly looking for words, and eventually turns to Thunderwing himself without finishing the sentence.]

 

Don't ask me for 'socially acceptable', jitterbug. [He bares his fangs and fans his wing-kibble out, accentuating the organic inspiration of his frame.] I'm our pistonbrains, not our real brains.