((Hope nobody minds stray Predacons...))

[terrorsaur]

A small, nondescript, and unpowered door in a corner of an alleyway somewhere was pushed open by a clawed hand. Terrorsaur shifted the weight of the box of salvaged scrap metal he was carrying before he stepped through the doorway... and promptly collided with a support beam he didn't expect to be there

Comments

[giri_guy]

*waves idly*

[terrorsaur]

*Squawk!*

*Terrorsaur attempts to escape, but there's a wall in the way. He can't seem to find the door back, even though it's almost right behind him, and he's reduced to near-incoherancy. He's on Cybertron, and he's been spotted. He takes to the air, since at least he can't be stepped on that way.*

*Waaait... stepped on? Autobot. Not Maximal. Too big. Even if it is Rodimus Prime.*

*Terrorsaur hovers in midair and crosses his arms, trying to look dignified. Which is likely hopeless considering the squawking hysteria of a moment earlier.*

"So... when is this?"

[giri_guy]

*shrugs* This Cybertron is kinda in a bubble apart from time. It's a haven from the war, of sorts. *tries to smile encouragingly*

[terrorsaur]

*Terrorsaur is still suspicious. The Cybertron he remembers isn't a good place if you're a Predacon.* So... I'm not going to be arrested? Or lynched? Or stepped on?