If you believe in hope, it is because of doubt. [Prompt Response]

[karanseraph]

TFA Slipstream

After being released from Autobot Medbay, where she had been in the care of Ratchet and then Swoop, Slipstream returns to her penthouse in Park Slope Apartments. She has made the trip at night, hoping it would be less obvious she is only managing a weak hover and cannot run, transform, or fly in root mode at full power. She is not

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[hunter_for_hire]

Once Slipstream finds her footing, Lockdown wastes no time in gliding them into steps, pivots and twirls that embody the circumference of her penthouse. He keeps close watch on her both with his optics and his arms, ensuring that he's not pushing her beyond her capabilities. He smiles into her beaming visage, pleased to see her on her feet and moving gracefully as a seeker should.

The song carries on and the hunter finds himself lost in a euphoria of one-two-threes. The thin alloy of her tiny waist warms what little sensation he has in his hook. Their digits are intertwined so tightly that he wouldn't know which was which without the differing colors. They move flawlessly along the same wavelength, optics locked in an understanding that goes beyond faction, ideals and allegiances. An understanding that doesn't judge on past deeds, only looks at present needs, and dares dream of a promising future.

Lockdown has become so wrapped up in everything that his painted mouth start whispering deeply along with the lyrics:And I'll dance with

*big grin*

[hunter_for_hire]

At her offer, he promptly takes a hold of her hips and flips them over. It's an awkward jumble of limbs, wings and scraping metal but eventually, the hunter ends up on the bottom with Slipstream somewhat forced to straddle his lower body. He beams an endearing grin up at her, completely ready and willing to get his share of pampering, even if it does sting a little. So long as she adopts his pausing-between-lines-to-make-out tactic, he'll welcome the discomfort of getting inked.

Have at me, Brighteyes.

[karanseraph]

Slipstream adjusts to the new position, completely aware it is also a bit of a show. She stretches her arms over head, then rolls her head from side to side as they drop. The control surfaces on her wings wag out and back of default position. She tucks her heels in alongside the wheels on Lockdown's hips, then bows forward to study his tattooed visage.

There's just a few nicks, and places where the outline lacks definition. Might be that self-repair systems cannot always bring the tats back, like the way they give your plating base color but not surface detailing.

She traces the lines of his facial tattoos; tips of her digits gliding over the thin dermal plating. She would seem to be all business, at first.

I'll touch-up your jaw and work up. She powers on the pen in her right hand, and braces her left hand against Lockdown's neck, talons intertwined with his spikes. She touches the pen to his jaw and begins her work.

You can curse at me, but not move. I will hold you down.

It is a guess, but she thinks threats from her, may

[hunter_for_hire]

He purrs something deep and rumbling as her barbed talons toy with his studded neck. The tingling sensation from her flirty touch helps numb the sting of the inking. There's also the pleasantly distracting warmth from her thighs bleeding into his body. He's tempted to dim his optics but he would rather watch as the art isn't limited to the strokes of the pen. Her entire chassis is art, especially with how she flaunts it. The Starscream in her programming is blatantly evident, and as much as the hunter despises that one-mech-mayhem-storm, he'll openly admit that the seeker's body frame is loaded with sex appeal, even moreso when refashioned with a feminine touch.

He slides a firm grip from her hip to her knee then back up again. She kisses him deeply and he responds deeply, both with his kiss and voice. A gravelly chuckle brushes over her lips as she taunts him with the promise of tough love.

Do what ya like, Tough Guy. He rasps a near-whisper. Just remember this here thing we got is an equal exchange.

[karanseraph]

Slipstream presses her lips to Lockdown once more then lifts her head to view the work remaining. She touches the pen to a line below his optic.

Fair is fair. Sure you can find a way to make my jaw ache...just no mean left hook. The right one, I don't mind so much.

She smirks as she continues her work, touching-up the sections of tribal-style art about Lockdown's optics, with doses of more pleasurable contact inbetween. She doesn't really have artistic flare, but she has precision control. The tattoos look exactly as they would without wear or battle damage.

You're looking like a proper catrin, Sugar.