[Semi-open Comment Log]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Following this conversation, a certain weapons master has stomped out of his room, headed down the halls for a certain neon medic's.

He was just hung up on. He was just hung up on. Why? What was wrong with the medic?

The stingers from the bees were in one hand. If anything, he could make a peace offering. He was fighting with Mikaela off and on, there were too many Decepticons, and now his closest friend just hung up on him.

He reached the door, and pounded on it.]

Open up.





((ooc: Anyone can accost him on his little march down the hallway ^^))

Comments

[heavyweaponsbot]

She claims not to be human. [shrugs - who even knows, really?] I have not met her.

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

...Then maybe you shouldn't...

[She just cares, Ironhide.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

Why not?

[He doesn't see anything wrong with this. He's made of metal. Organics go squish.]

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

Well...if they say they aren't human, maybe they aren't, y'know? Sometimes there's more than meets the eye with people. Like...you guys.

We...just don't want you hurt more, is all.

[heavyweaponsbot]

Still organic. Still cannot stand up to my strikes.

[rolls his shoulders, glowering at her.]

I will heal.

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

How do you know? [She doesn't back down.]

Your chest is still all messed up.