heavyweaponsbot: (Running to fight)
[The voice that suddenly booms over the journals should be familiar to some.  And, if not, it's certainly loud and attention-getting.  Someone is clearly unhappy.]

This... is a lie. It must be. It cannot be possible -- not again!

[A pause.  There's some mechanical shifting while the party in question tries to remain calm.  There is also a sound like... water dripping?]

Who is listening? Can anyone hear me! This is Ironhide -- stuck in some... room somewhere. With a talking book. And no frog. I had a frog on me a moment ago.

[Another pause -- and he's right back to being borderline frantic.]

... Ratchet! Do you read this? Answer me! ... Answer me. You must be here.
heavyweaponsbot: (I know you're back there Doc.)
[The video is accidental. What one can see, at first, is the tiny golden arm of a frog. Specifically, C4. The frog peers into the camera for a second before becoming bored and hopping off.

This leaves the screen clear to show off the rest of the room. Amidst the piles and piles of random objects, including but not limited to, a lampshade, books, a small blackboard, golf clubs, little bottles with plants inside, toy boats, a shovel, stuffed whale, soil samples neatly labeled, stuffed dog... and so on and so forth. All of it is very organized.

And, of course, sprawled out in the center of the room is a pile of black metal... and a pile of neon metal, stretched out on top. Ironhide has an arm draped over his companion, whose head is resting comfortably on his chest. Neither of them appear to be awake.

The feed cuts out... but the comm is still very much on.]

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Ironhide

June 2014

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