Secondhand Help - [Bumblebee]
Sept 2, 2017 1:39:13 GMT -5
Post by Carbine on Sept 2, 2017 1:39:13 GMT -5
"Ah, maybe? I wiĺl look̸ into it."
AKA: 'I don't want to get in an argument because I don’t trust you or your golden child to do that'.
There was no way Carbine was going to say such things openly. He knew Bumblebee was really attached to the little human, and he knew better than to even imply that the kid could really mess Bolo up if he did something wrong. If Bee reacted so poorly about RATCHET being challenged with a very valid reason, than how would he respond to this!? It was better to play it off and move on, without commenting on it directly.
Carbine would watch idly while Bumblebee threw attention all over Bolo, his gaze softening a bit from the earlier ire and frustrations. Bolo meant the world to him, and it was always nice seeing when he bonded to someone else and enjoyed their company. So many people liked the dog, so many individuals will offer attention at any moment because of the novelty of it, but there was somewhere in there where a line formed. Somewhere in the muddled mess of gray there was some gray line that separated casual attention and liking the Cassette just because he was a rare critter, and actually truly enjoying the canine for what he was.
It was somewhat reassuring in a way, wondering about the future and things that may happen in the war, and the less than ideal concepts that could come hand in hand with it. While he didn't think Bolo would survive the ordeal, there was an inkling of comfort to be found that if he were to be cut down in battle, there would be people like Thunder and Bumblebee that could help the canine through grief and recovery. That was... once more... if he even survived it.
They were so closely bound, the death of one could be the fall of another so very easily. It was a grim thought he tried to cast aside, focusing on the mystery of the femme that had been slain and butchered like some kind of useless garbage. Bolo thankfully didn’t seem to react to these somber thoughts, for once not tattling and simply leaning into the attention he was receiving with optics turned off to indicate closed eyes, ears fanning out in a dopey position.
"Yeah, can do! I howe̢v̸e͞r ̶g͞ot s͏ome stuff I need to get w-w-orking on t̛h̸o͏ugh... If you want to watch over Bolo you can, or̵ ͜j͡u͡st͢ ̶s͟ḩoo him off if you got work t-t̶-͞t͜o do."
An offer, trying to escape this situation and put distance between the earlier conversations.
AKA: 'I don't want to get in an argument because I don’t trust you or your golden child to do that'.
There was no way Carbine was going to say such things openly. He knew Bumblebee was really attached to the little human, and he knew better than to even imply that the kid could really mess Bolo up if he did something wrong. If Bee reacted so poorly about RATCHET being challenged with a very valid reason, than how would he respond to this!? It was better to play it off and move on, without commenting on it directly.
Carbine would watch idly while Bumblebee threw attention all over Bolo, his gaze softening a bit from the earlier ire and frustrations. Bolo meant the world to him, and it was always nice seeing when he bonded to someone else and enjoyed their company. So many people liked the dog, so many individuals will offer attention at any moment because of the novelty of it, but there was somewhere in there where a line formed. Somewhere in the muddled mess of gray there was some gray line that separated casual attention and liking the Cassette just because he was a rare critter, and actually truly enjoying the canine for what he was.
It was somewhat reassuring in a way, wondering about the future and things that may happen in the war, and the less than ideal concepts that could come hand in hand with it. While he didn't think Bolo would survive the ordeal, there was an inkling of comfort to be found that if he were to be cut down in battle, there would be people like Thunder and Bumblebee that could help the canine through grief and recovery. That was... once more... if he even survived it.
They were so closely bound, the death of one could be the fall of another so very easily. It was a grim thought he tried to cast aside, focusing on the mystery of the femme that had been slain and butchered like some kind of useless garbage. Bolo thankfully didn’t seem to react to these somber thoughts, for once not tattling and simply leaning into the attention he was receiving with optics turned off to indicate closed eyes, ears fanning out in a dopey position.
"Yeah, can do! I howe̢v̸e͞r ̶g͞ot s͏ome stuff I need to get w-w-orking on t̛h̸o͏ugh... If you want to watch over Bolo you can, or̵ ͜j͡u͡st͢ ̶s͟ḩoo him off if you got work t-t̶-͞t͜o do."
An offer, trying to escape this situation and put distance between the earlier conversations.