[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]We're Off To See The Wizard [ Ratchet|Closed ]
Sept 9, 2018 17:12:56 GMT -5
Post by Hot Rod on Sept 9, 2018 17:12:56 GMT -5
The shifting of his frame was more than just a way for him to focus his attention on something other than his anger, it was also acting as a way to push out the hot air that was still moving around within his core. With the rise of hot air, most of it was coming out of his shoulder vents, but some was finding its way out through the various other slits in his frame. It hadn't reached the level of dangerous where smoke was involved, but had Hot Rod not cooled his jets? It probably could have.
Hot Rod huffed some and stood with his servos at his sides. Without anything to do with them, they climbed up and rested on his hips as he looked at the old medic before him. He didn't like standing still- in fact, he hated it- and he started to shift his weight from one pede to the other in discomfort. Should he apologize for what had happened? The slip? Hot Rod didn't think that there was a justification for it, though. He had meant everything he had said and to go back on it would show him as a flipper. There was no way he would ever allow anyone to be able to say he'd been that at any point in his life. Not before this moment, and not after this moment.
Though he still knew there was some part that needed the apology, but his pride caused him to bite his glossa, at least right at the moment of coming down from it. He'd hoped that Ratchet would immediately carry on since that conversation was over, get him out of this common area so he didn't risk someone else arriving to the scene and making some comment about why it felt like a sauna being cooled down, but he'd instead brought up tantrum and that only made him frown in annoyance at the medic before him.
"I'm standing here waiting on you to continue. No need to get all fussy at me, you cranky old fart." Again he crossed his arms and looked around the area. "Wasn't even getting mad at you."
There was his conscious, somewhere, telling him that he should be apologizing instead of poking at the sleeping bear. No one would ever say he was good at actually listening, either.
Hot Rod huffed some and stood with his servos at his sides. Without anything to do with them, they climbed up and rested on his hips as he looked at the old medic before him. He didn't like standing still- in fact, he hated it- and he started to shift his weight from one pede to the other in discomfort. Should he apologize for what had happened? The slip? Hot Rod didn't think that there was a justification for it, though. He had meant everything he had said and to go back on it would show him as a flipper. There was no way he would ever allow anyone to be able to say he'd been that at any point in his life. Not before this moment, and not after this moment.
Though he still knew there was some part that needed the apology, but his pride caused him to bite his glossa, at least right at the moment of coming down from it. He'd hoped that Ratchet would immediately carry on since that conversation was over, get him out of this common area so he didn't risk someone else arriving to the scene and making some comment about why it felt like a sauna being cooled down, but he'd instead brought up tantrum and that only made him frown in annoyance at the medic before him.
"I'm standing here waiting on you to continue. No need to get all fussy at me, you cranky old fart." Again he crossed his arms and looked around the area. "Wasn't even getting mad at you."
There was his conscious, somewhere, telling him that he should be apologizing instead of poking at the sleeping bear. No one would ever say he was good at actually listening, either.