heavyweaponsbot: (Optimus I am disappoint.)
Melee tournament, huh?

[He sounds so unimpressed... but...]

Then I will be entering this tournament.

[His voice has a tone of 'whether you like it or not', despite the fact he doesn't come out and say it.]
heavyweaponsbot: (Save your fears)
[Oh hey Keep. It's Ironhide again. And boy does he sound unhappy.]

Tell me, lord.

[There is so much derision in that word, it should be a curse, not a title.]

Where are those who go missing? Do you send them home, to their "vanished worlds"? Or are you keeping them locked up!

[Something big and heavy impacts a wall.]

Answer me!

[... Finding Lea missing isn't sitting well with the big old bot.]
heavyweaponsbot: (Save your fears)
...

Rodents are supposed to die when you step on them. What is the matter with these creatures!

[There are a series of loud stomps, followed by cursing. In many languages.]

Get away! Disgusting little beasts!
heavyweaponsbot: (FLAWLESS.  VICTORY.)
[Ironhide was going to speak up, to say something - check on Mikaela, bother his team, something.  But when he flips through the network, and notices another missing ID...

There's just an angry snarl before the comm goes dead.

Then he's off, storming around the ship.  He doesn't deal with loss all that well - he doesn't deal with feelings all that well.  He ends up on the Bee Deck, as usual, and just starts punching the nearest buzzing creature he can find.

Should anyone come across him, he'll still be there, whacking insects and growling to himself in Cybertronian.]
heavyweaponsbot: (FLAWLESS.  VICTORY.)
Unless there is anyone with a useful proposal for my time, I will be occupied on deck six.

[Punching bees: what giant robots do in their downtime, kids. Of course, he won't come right out and say this.]

I grow tired of individuals who are too incompetent to work a simple communications device.

Hmnf!
heavyweaponsbot: (We are not amused)
[Locked to Mikaela - 95% Unhackable]

Hey. Need a favor of you. It means... much to me... and I do not ask lightly.

Need a frog. Gold one.

[/Lock]




Crew.

Have a question for you. At the usual price. Answer quickly, or I shall retract the offer.
heavyweaponsbot: (This waking hell I am)
[Careful observers of transmissions may have noticed an absence of a big, black presence. Especially where one Mikaela Banes was concerned. In fact, he hasn't made a peep since he and Ratchet went to investigate the restaurants.

He is, however, making amends for it now. Crashing his way down the decks and hallways, attacking nearly anything that moves, leaving a wake of destruction in his path... With a large smear of neon paint on one fist...

Said careful observers may also notice the bit of jewel--hard to distinguish amidst the scars and bits of metal he's made of--set into the semi-circular piece on his helm.

Approach?]
heavyweaponsbot: (Soldiers stand or die)
I grow tired of listening to constant lies regarding the state of our homeworlds. Been asked why this... crew... would lie to us. When they stated they would not.

[He snorts]

I ask why they would not.

They wish to keep us here, hmn? Must have been a lot of work to gather us all... why would they want us to slip away? To look for an escape? Waste of all their efforts. Best to keep your prisoners compliant... when there are so many more of them than there are guards. Or, shall I say... crew?

I do not believe their story. Not asking anyone to agree with me, I do not care if you do or do not.

Just saying.

[And the comm clicks off.]

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Ironhide

June 2014

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