Squaaaawk!
Nobody expects to be plucked out of Detroit's skies and unceremoniously dumped in the middle of a dressing room.
Thus, Terrorsoar finds himself making a mad scramble to catch himself before crashing his brand new altmode into the wall, screeching in dismay as he collapses to the floor in a jumble of red jet parts and pearly-white accents.
After a moment, he manages to find something like equilibrium, sorting himself into robot mode and focusing on what's really important.
"I scratched my canopy!"
... Well, on what's important to him.
Thus, Terrorsoar finds himself making a mad scramble to catch himself before crashing his brand new altmode into the wall, screeching in dismay as he collapses to the floor in a jumble of red jet parts and pearly-white accents.
After a moment, he manages to find something like equilibrium, sorting himself into robot mode and focusing on what's really important.
"I scratched my canopy!"
... Well, on what's important to him.