Hey, dudes! So y'know what today is?

It's Friday.

( AND HE BREAKS INTO SONG oh you bet )

[The feed opens up on Ironhide's training center. Apparently, the weapons master felt he was rested enough to get back to classes, while waiting for Dudewave's signal. He's pacing back and forth in front of a huddled group of mixed Cybertronians and organics of various sizes. Oddly enough, the younger Optimus is among them, despite having ( Read more... )

. . . Reporting in.

[He just leaves it at that, at a loss for what else to say. Plus, having been unconscious for the last three days or so tends to leave one a bit groggy afterward.

And, he's not quite sure where he is, at the moment, actually. Give him a second.]

((ooc: Following his log, Ironhide ended up passing out at IDW!Ratchet's ( Read more... )

[Locked to: Residents of Jazz's Apartment | Ani!Optimus | Lennox | Jet-twins | Jazz | 80%]

Have a new resident. See a little blue jet flying around, leave him. He is supposed to be here. Meant to be here.

[Locked to: Jazz | Private | 80%]
... Need to talk to you. Please.

[Well. This should be a familiar sight. A grouchy-looking Ironhide, glowering into the camera.]

I swear I am going to install tracking software on everyone in this apartment... Or under my command.

The young Prime. Where is he.

[And no, this is not a question.]

Going to upgrade the security system in this place... with cannons... or turrets ( Read more... )

[Ironhide's typical deep growl has a note of real anger in it today. He's doing his best to hold it back, but there's only so much rage the big guy can throttle down.]

There are missing Autobots. I cannot raise them on their communicators.

I want to know who is responsible for this. Come forward, and I shall only shoot you.

[Locked to ( Read more... )

[The video feed kicks on as... the communicator is being unceremoniously blasted across a room, due to a massive explosion. The screen goes white with static, the audio portion a mess of the sounds of metal warping, something heavy striking walls, and the general screech of a recording device pushed past its limits.

And then there's silence.

Dead ( Read more... )

... I require someone who has not gotten themselves turned organic to adjust the heat in this apartment.

Now.

[Ironhide got all his shouting and carrying on out of his system earlier.  Now he's just cold and damp from doing it outside in the snow.  And is too short to reach the mech-level thermostat, apparently.]

[All one can hear, when the comm kicks on, is nothing more than the rumble of an engine.  Ironhide is on the road, headed somewhere or other, despite the snow.  Since he can probably just plow right on through the worst piles of it, he doesn't seem to be having much of an issue.  Just ignore the low grumbling and irritated noises he's making.  That ( Read more... )

This... place is... an exercise in futility...  I cannot stand it any longer!

I should tear it apart!  Wreck it!  This is... this...!

[There's a snarl of mixed rage, and grief, before the line goes dead.  The news of a certain twin's departure has just been received.]