"Oh yeah," Bulkhead says. "We went around in a big circle. I told Bumblebee we were going the wrong way, but he said his sense of direction was all good and stuff, and before we knew it..."
"Kind of, sort of. Depends on the definition." Random's taken to laying/sitting with his back on the seat of a transformer-sized couch with his legs over hanging over its head it seems. "But yeah, kinda have. Especially recently."
He facepalms and shutters his optics. "I meant how literal you meant it. Sorry."
He looks up at what would be the ceiling but is now the ground. "Uh. Well, just about every time I transfer away from one group of arrogant sla--dirt flingers, I always seem to either land up at a base with a worse group of them or get assigned somewhere with an equally terrible work environment. At the Ark there are that many arrogant mechs, so Tierron had to poke his way back to my life again."
And there's a certain red and white Autobot, standing with his arms folded across his windshield and a scowl on his faceplate. His engine is thrumming beneath his hood with pent of frustration and anger.
"...every time I think things are starting to get better, life dumps me back into the same mud hole again. It's getting old."
Arcee starts and steps back as she turns and sees him, her hands flying up to try and hide the fact that, though she's still wearing the spark booster, it's not running.
"What happened?" She winces as the guilt comes out clearly in her voice, but tries to convince herself that it's just because she let someone else tinker with his medical efforts. But she has a sinking feeling about this.
Faye looks her usual perky self at first glance, though she's actually feeling a little worried about some friends of hers. And of course, she's still LOL'd and got an automail right arm and left leg.
"I did it once when I first got here and started to explore the Nexus. Somehow I took a wrong turn and wound up back in this part of the place. I'm usually a lot better with my sense of direction..."
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He looks up at what would be the ceiling but is now the ground. "Uh. Well, just about every time I transfer away from one group of arrogant sla--dirt flingers, I always seem to either land up at a base with a worse group of them or get assigned somewhere with an equally terrible work environment. At the Ark there are that many arrogant mechs, so Tierron had to poke his way back to my life again."
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"...every time I think things are starting to get better, life dumps me back into the same mud hole again. It's getting old."
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"What happened?" She winces as the guilt comes out clearly in her voice, but tries to convince herself that it's just because she let someone else tinker with his medical efforts. But she has a sinking feeling about this.
Reply
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"I did it once when I first got here and started to explore the Nexus. Somehow I took a wrong turn and wound up back in this part of the place. I'm usually a lot better with my sense of direction..."
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