22nd Transmission

[heavyweaponsbot]

Why is it that organic fuel constantly appears in my presence? I have neither desire, nor capacity, to ingest this... Eugh.

Anyone want this scrap?

[Ironhide is offering up his Valentines candies to anyone who wants them. The stuffed creature--resembling a bull terrier--he picked up, and examined, but decided it was going to a special home.

Anyone who wants candy is welcome to either knock on his door, or pester him over the comms.]

Comments

[heavyweaponsbot]

[It... smacks him square on the helm. And sticks.]

...


[There is no icon to express the look on his face.]

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

[She stares.

And stares.

Then bursts into hysterical laughter.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Ironhide growls, and swats at his face, succeeding in peeling the candy off. Then he flicks it at her.]

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

[She's still laughing when it lands in her hair, and she tries unsuccessfully to tug it out.]

You should have seen your face!

[heavyweaponsbot]

Yeah, yeah... forget you saw anything.

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

[She's still laughing as she heads towards the door.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He growls, and shifts, nudging her retreating back with a toe.]

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

[She turns and waves before walking out the door. Oh, crazy Ironhide. Never change.]