We are a literate, intermediate to advanced AU Transformers RPG Based off of the first season of TFP with dashes of other incarnations sprinkled here or there. Characters from any continuity are welcome however must be restyled to match the TFPrime universe.
Active, with ongoing plotlines, we are always willing to integrate new characters into storylines once incorporated into the setting.
Coldwind strutted down the corridors of Blackridge; dominant, powerful, well-postured. She was in her element. The presence of Decepticon halls did her well, even if the excellent architect Pyrotech constructed them out of crude metal and sickly brown organic mush. It was better not to think about it too much.
Instead, she thought back to Starscream's words, pondering for a while just how long his little lordship would last at the helm of the Decepticon armada. A few weeks? Maybe a month? It was amusing to think about, but concerning too. She pledged herself to Starscream. His future would be her future—well, for as long as she stood at his side anyways.
And then her mind shifted further. This time, Coldwind mused over her objective. She was to meet Knockout, the CMO, a vaunted medic. In the short time she spent at Blackridge, she took the liberty of viewing his files. She wasn't impressed. Then again, she rarely was.
Then Coldwind finally arrived at her destination. A doorway leading to the medbay. She scarce expected anything special, given the state in which the rest of Blackridge was. All in all, she was ready to be thoroughly disappointed with the equipment and personnel.
Stepping before the makeshift iron door, she announced her presence with loud, irritable banging against the primitive metal.
Breakdown had taken it upon himself to ensure the little makeshift medical bay was as tidy and organized as it had been on the Nemesis. They didn't have all the equipment as they did there, but that didn't matter. Everything was strategically in place as it needed to be, both for Knock Out's sake for when he needed something and had to find it in a hurry, as well as for Breakdown so that he wouldn't... trip over anything he didn't realize had been put in the way.
He'd already stumbled over enough things just setting the place up.
Just as Breakdown was putting the last of the large crates away, he heard a loud banging sound on the door. Was someone scheduled to come? Knock Out normally informed him if there was someone who needed their regular check up- and he knew none of the Vehicons were overdue. The knock couldn't have been Starscream, as the seeker usually had a much more reserved tap about him as though afraid he would chip one of his claws.
"Open the door, medic."
Ah. It had to be someone new, because everyone knew that Knock Out never opened the door. Breakdown was the one who did that just in case the one on the other side had any sort of malicious intent- the sight of the dusty blue brute standing there as an unmovable fortress usually deterred most from trying anything. Correcting their misjudgments, so to speak.
Just as it was this time. Breakdown set the crate in place and made his way to the door and opened it slowly, standing there in the doorway. One yellow optic stared at Coldwind momentarily, taking in the sight of the other before he finally spoke. "My apologizes for the delay. Knock Out will be with you shortly." He offered no movement in his expression and just slowly stepped to the side with his optic locked on the other, studying her in silence.
Things were surprisingly quiet in the Medical Bay today. A few Vehicons had been in earlier in the day for general checkups, including one who’d managed to crush his servo while mining - but other than that? Blissful silence. Well, aside from the ambient noises of living in basically a giant cave.
Knock Out had wanted to take advantage of the quiet downtime by possibly sneaking out to find somewhere to race - since the Decepticons had arrived at Blackridge he hadn’t had a chance to escape and show off his fabulous alt-mode in what felt like forever - it wasn’t like he could waltz into the Control Room here and just open up a bridge, after all. But unfortunately with change came paperwork that he was still trying to catch up on. Not helped by the fact a lot of the files and reports had been partially corrupted in the crashing of the Nemesis, and things were going slower than he’d of liked.
At least it was keeping him busy. He had to visit Shockwave today, too - and had been putting it off.
While Breakdown worked at tidying up the boxes that never seemed to really end - Knock Out sat at a desk at the far side of the room. Both pedes up on the desk, both legs stretched out with one crossed over the other, leaning back in the chair while he scrolled through a datapad with one digit. Occasionally he’d frown and type something, or would lean forward to double-check something on another datapad on the desk, but he seemed fairly drawn in by his work.
Until a loud banging made his entire frame flinch in a shudder of annoyance.
A gentle hum of irritation escaped him, as he turned his attention toward the offending door. He had half a mind to tell Breakdown to leave it a minute or two, make whoever it was out there wait until they’d learned the meaning of patience - but Breakdown was a far better mech than he was, and as the blue mech made his way to the door, Knock Out sat up straight in the chair, setting down the datapad.
A gentle tsk. Delay? Breakdown… Two seconds is not a delay…
“The medic has a name. But sure, what he said.” he’d flippantly wave a servo in the direction of the pair, before turning his gaze and attention back to his datapad he held earlier, making no motions of getting to his feet to start gathering supplies for whatever it was she could possibly want.
As Breakdown opened the door, Coldwind sized him up. He was big and blue. Coldwind was also big and blue. Those traits were admirable. But then she noticed the finer details of his frame. He was one of those, ahem, Grounders. She'd hold off any comments for now. They wouldn't be productive. But it did elate a slight roll of her optics when the mech posed her with an apology.
And then she heard that voice somewhere from behind the mysterious assistant. That must have been the medic. Knock Out, was it? He sounded sort of like Starscream to Coldwind, except somehow even more annoying. This was going to be a long night.
Coldwind produced a loud grunt, followed by an animalistic growl. She took a step closer towards Breakdown.
"I see Decepticon morale is as low as ever," she scoffed, looking over his shoulder to see just what kind of mech Knock Out was. The flippant wave of a servo, the nonchalance with which he dismissed her presence. It made Coldwind angry.
It was time to put her foot down.
"I have direct orders to report here from Lord Starscream," Coldwind postured. She didn't expect Starscream's name alone to carry much weight with someone who was so annoyingly dismissive of her, but it was worth a try.
"So, youbetter get over here quickly...Before I drag you out of that chair limb by limb!"
The Vosnian was not averse to overkill. She would say anything, do anything to get the job done. If urgency was what would get Knock Out working, she would try it. If that didn't work, she would try her chances at enforcing the order with brutality. Breakdown looked formidable, and it was ages since she had a good fight.
And to make no mistake, she was the kind of bot to be fully capable of backing up her threats.
Last Edit: Aug 25, 2019 6:43:45 GMT -5 by Coldwind: Something went weird with the formatting.
Breakdown had dealt with many types in his lifecycle, and this new one? Pretty much fit the bill of many he'd already faced before. That look he caught when his frame was inspected hadn't gone unnoticed, nor had he really cared about it. Yes, he was a grounder. He'd been a grounder since he was still playing for the Neutrals, and he had no intentions of ever changing that. Breakdown was certainly not one for not having both pedes on the ground.
His interests were elsewhere rather quickly. The posturing that the Decepticon gave right away switched Breakdown into defensive offense. Th way she spoke, the way she moved, the sounds she made... all of it was taken in by the brute. When she stepped up to him he shifted his weight, planted his pedes firmly where he stood and straightened up to be at his full height and girth. Certainly the femme wasn't going to get past him unless Knock Out gave the okay to let her pass.
Breakdown wasn't one to back down, especially when he was the one that was supposed to be protecting Knock Out. There were always those who could have had bad intentions- he was just there to ensure they didn't have the easiest time acting on them.
"I said he would be with you shortly. It's not exactly nice to be disrespectful of the acting CMO when you're the one in HIS medical bay." Breakdown rarely spoke out of turn, even less with a snip to give to anyone else, but this was pretty much Coldwind's fault. Even Starscream and Megatron knew that when you were in this facility you acted a certain way. Outside? Fair game.
He'd be certain to remind her of that if he needed to.
"Plus, you don't have an appointment. You're lucky he even has time for you. Starscream orders or not." A snarl came from the base of his throat and he narrowed his single optic. For one with a short fuse, Breakdown was actually doing rather well.
For now. Only for now.
Last Edit: Aug 30, 2019 20:11:20 GMT -5 by Breakdown
Post by Knock Out on Sept 13, 2019 22:04:57 GMT -5
While the majority of Knock Out’s attention was on the datapad, he did glance upward and across the room for a flicker of a moment as the femme stepped toward Breakdown. While he knew the other mech could handle himself, he didn’t like how this femme was coming across. Her attitude was awful and she seemed to be looking for trouble - a thing that Knock Out would rather avoid. But on the other side of that coin, he wasn’t about to back down and give in to her demands just because she had a seemingly short fuse, and so no motions were made of getting up to assist her.
“I’m sorry, were you looking for jokes, laughter and a good time? Maybe you should join the Autobots if you’re looking for something a little more lighthearted.” he gently tsk’d.
“Decepticon morale is fine. Well, considering the Nemesis is sitting at the bottom of the ocean and we lost a good number of our Vehicon troops, anyway.
Then again, rumor has it the Autobots are currently slowly starving to death. So maybe we should send you over there to learn what low morale really is. Think before you speak.”
A shake of his helm, his attention drifting back to the more important matter at hand - the datapad. Although he was still listening to the conversation that was going on in the doorway, just in case things derailed further.
There was a short bark of a laugh as she threw Starscream’s name out there. She may have had orders but as of right now, he hadn’t heard anything about her and had no request sent by their new Lord to give her an examination - then again, he hadn’t checked. First impressions went a long way, and she was downright ruining hers. If she’d been polite, or even nicer in her initial approach, she would be up on a medical berth being tended to right now! But… No, no, she had to be rude and snippy.
“I mean, you are more than welcome to drag me from my chair limb from limb, but then we’d both lose. You more so than me, given your orders.”
A smug hum.
“Why don’t we try again. This time using your manners.”
Coldwind, utterly and doubtlessly annoyed beyond all reason at this point, completely ignored Breakdown and his mannered warnings. Her vision tunneled on that egoistic jerk sitting in his chair with no care left in the world. She could've attacked, she could've measured her strength against Breakdown, but the consequences were all too known to her. Starscream never said she could push them, and without his express permission, well, she wouldn't risk gaining the ire of her benefactor. At least for as long as he was the biggest sharkticon in the pen. Who knows how Megatron could go about her violent tendencies were he present. But he wasn't here, and Starscream was busy, so it was up to Coldwind herself to somehow solve this dispute without violence; something she was notoriously bad at.
"Jokes? Is that what this is to you, Knock Out? A joke?!" She demanded furiously. While she often attempted to temper her vicious streak, this was one of the not-so-rare moments of letting emotions run wild.
"Do you see me laughing? I'm not here to be lectured by a cocksure philistine and his sidekick! I am here to get my alt-mode, my medical checkup, and be out of here as soon as possible!"
She paused, pressing a monstrous hand over her face, digging into the plating with sharp claws. It was something she did very, very often when people tried to test her patience.
But finally, after her rant, she gave Breakdown a modicum of her attention.
"Step aside," she said in a cold, bloodthirsty tone. It wasn't the kind of voice she used to regard her fellow Decepticons, not even the kind she used to put Vehicons in line. No, this was the kind of voice she exclusively reserved for the dying Autobots at her feet. It was frigid, alien, mortifying. A tone that sent shivers down the sparks of the weak.
In a lot of ways, it was similar in timber to how Megatron spoke.
Post by Breakdown on Sept 20, 2019 18:35:45 GMT -5
Sidekick? Well, she could have called him worse things, and if that was what she had to offer? He just shrugged and watched her, remaining in her way as she went on and on and the cherry mech tossed in his two cents for good measure. Breakdown just stood guard while the two exchanged their heated little remarks, figuring they would work it out until one backed down or they just both hit a roadblock. Then again, some situations didn't work out quite as well as one often hoped it would, and it seemed as if this was turning into one of those very times.
Looked like this femme didn't care for manners, and Knock Out was only irritating her more by his smug responses. This would turn into a rather messy situation for sure if they didn't both stop soon, as he didn't count out the possibility of blows if they just for a moment forgot that there was to be some civility within the medical bay. He vented in slight irritation and shook his helm, starting to step to the side...
That tone, however, made Breakdown stop. It wasn't fear that drove him, for Breakdown rarely acted on that anymore. If she were trying to scare him into submission under her words, she had done the exact opposite and his shoulders rolled as he sized her up and turned fully to face her with a rumbling growl echoing within his chassis as his optic narrowed and he leaned in to her.
"Don't try it. I've faced Megatron and almost bested him- you're nothing to compare. Don't challenge me, and don't try to play this game of seeing what makes me step aside. The both of you are acting like sparklings with your stupid back and forth. If you're unhappy with seeing Knock Out for your medical examination, I'm sure Commander Shockwave would more than happy to do it instead."
A scoff of irritation came from him as he pulled back and stepped to the side to allow her to pass, though he straightened himself out a little more to keep to his full stature, reminding her that he wasn't assigned as the bodyguard for the medic all this time for nothing.
Post by Knock Out on Sept 20, 2019 20:47:54 GMT -5
“The only joke to me here is that you seemingly expect me to help you with a problem after speaking to me like that.” he replied coolly, not taking his attention off the datapad, scrolling down it lazily with his thumb. He knew better than to raise his voice in response. She was ridiculously quick to anger, and while he was playing with fire in his rather nonchalant responses, he knew Breakdown was there to protect him should he push things just a little too far.
“Manners will get you a long way with me - Breakdown, too. As for the namecalling... Well, I’ll admit I’m more than a little arrogant - completely warranted, by the way - but a philistine? Please, have you seen me?” he purred, and it was then he’d look at her again. “I’m fairly certain I have more culture in my pinky digit than half the Decepticon forces.”
He couldn’t help but roll his optics, and would smirk as Breakdown started his reply, hoping it’d be enough to get her to back down and chill out some at hearing how he’d almost bested Megatron himself - only for that smirk to falter and fade at the mention of him acting like a sparkling. Tsk.
She started this whole thing by being impolite from the get-go. If he welcomed her in with open arms after how rude she had been, what kind of impression was that? She'd learn that being ill-mannered would work when it most certainly would not.
Maybe things would’ve been different if Breakdown hadn’t been here to intercept - but, aaah, probably not.
He’d sit up a little straighter as Breakdown stepped back and to the side - allowing her to pass into the room, a flutter of nervousness in his field, if only for a moment. Inwardly he was a little worried, thinking Breakdown had given in far too soon.
Surely she wouldn’t try anything now Breakdown had moved, right? If she did end up charging over here to attack him, Breakdown was fast when he wanted to be. Failing that? He did have his Energon prod… Uh… Somewhere around here…
A quiet hum, he’d set the datapad down and would lean back just a little in the chair to peek under the desk - trying not to be too obvious that he was looking for something.
Last Edit: Sept 20, 2019 22:46:11 GMT -5 by Knock Out
Post by Soundwave on Sept 20, 2019 23:22:11 GMT -5
Soft taps that were almost plastic in nature and nearly inaudible while upon the threshold to the Medical Bay, its mechanical thrums and workings churning within as an ever present and delicate ambiance. The tapping noises were easy to be ignored and cast aside as attention was focused on a potential altercation, effortlessly blamed on something in a different part of the base that was muffled through rough hewn walls and weaving corridors. The new sounds were level and calm, rhythmic in nature but should someone notice them to begin with, they may also pick up on the fact they were drawing closer.
Less muffled, less drowned out from a distance, they grew more defined, the higher notes of metal along a rock floor clicking in tandem with the plastic dampened noise becoming more apparent. Still calm as ever, still keeping an even beat despite the rising hostilities that bled out from before the Medical Bay. Nothing overtly obvious to draw instant attention.
Sometimes individuals needed to be reminded that they were a team.
Sometimes individuals needed to recall who the enemies are, and who stands determined at their sides.
Sometimes... well... individuals needed to keep in mind that no matter how primitive, no matter how isolated one may feel within the confines of a beaten down outpost... The eyes and ears of the Decepticon cause was always present.
A slender figure, pronounced shoulder plates that hooked high into the air, sloping arms that were disproportionately long draping down towards the ground... Lithe in shape, a skeleton among giants, despite a moderately higher than average stature. It moved like a ghost, a slow walk, blotched panels of black and navy breaking up its figure down the hallway, sharp lines of luminous magenta cutting through the darkest points to frame out larger plates of armor that hooked decoratively from its chest. The figure moved with focused intent, slowing upon approach before easing to a complete halt some distance behind Coldwind.
Watching, observant, a faceless visage surrounded by spined flaring of metal and vents angled gradually in her and Breakdown's direction, light glinting off its inky surface. Easy to recognize by many, notable as a shadow to Lord Megatron. Ever present, ever watching, ever knowing, a threat that loomed in every shadow to keep the rabble in line, ghost stories to the working soldiers to remind that they are here to serve the war machine towards their unified goals, not create rifts within to tear them apart. But even if one did not recognize immediately who the lithe mech was, the prominent dead aura spoke volumes, a hollowness, a sort of absence that radiated out.
Soundwave would wait and see what Starscream's latest pet would do.
Breakdown, to Coldwind, was little more than a brute—an obstacle. Yes, he was an enforcer, and not for nothing, but he lacked the brains and attitude of his red companion. She couldn't even force herself to regard him with little more than a sigh and annoyance as he finally moved aside. In spite of all of his pretenses to might, Breakdown didn't strike her as the sharpest tool in the shed. Perhaps she was wrong, but Coldwind would admit that only over her rotting carcass.
"Your lack of intelligence is insulting," Coldwind reprimanded Breakdown as he tried to play his scare tactic much like she did moments earlier. Saying he had nearly bested Magron did little to phase her. After all, she was the kind of person to believe actions spoke louder than words, and one solid punch in the face solved more than a billion treaties and armistices. With abilities such as hers, that may have very well been the case.
Now it was time to regard Knock Out. One step after the other, she closed in slowly. What was she going to do? Would she act in spite of Breakdown's compliance? Indulge her violent urge to take Knock Out's combat skills out for a spin? The tension was so thick you couldn't cut it with the finest silverware.
And then there she stood, the medic in his place, and the Seeker in front of him. A devilish grin crept across her features.
"You have spirit—for a grounder," was this flattery? Why yes, it was, "I like that."
Then she subtly tossed a glance over her shoulder. Soundwave's presence was not lost on her, as it was hopefully the case with Breakdown and Knock Out as well. Nobody in this room was stupid enough to pick fights when the eyes and ears of the Decepticons were watching and listening. Or at the very least, Coldwind hoped that was the case.
Mayhaps her sudden shift in attitude was exactly because the spymaster was here, or much more interestingly, Coldwind wasn't as oafish as she let on in her behavior thus far.
Breakdown scoffed some and returned to what had had been doing before he had been interrupted- organizing, putting away, shifting things around. He had resorted to calming himself and going quiet now that Knock Out had the stage- back to being the supporting character while the cherry red medic got the spotlight.
He placed tools back where they belonged, at least as close to each instrument as they had been while on the Nemesis. Everything had a place, but it was simply finding that spot in this new location. After placing some of the items in their new location, he moved to the other side of the room to pick up a box that was sitting there.
... and he paused right in his movements. Breakdown may not have been the brightest mech, but he did have a sense or two when there was trouble. Afterall, he hadn't been alive on the front lines and with Knock Out in tow on Cybertron simply based off his looks. The problem with Breakdown was that his senses were going haywire in different directions so it was difficult to pinpoint exactly where the problem was.
Danger. Lurking. It's here. He's here. Looming. Watch out for him. He's harmless. He's dangerous. He's nothing.
With an annoyed scoff, he heaved the box up rather roughly, not expecting it to be as light as it was.
He hadn't been paying attention to what he was physically doing, and in the midst of hauling up the box it had gone sailing out of his hands, flying slightly through the air, and landed several feet away from him on the floor after hitting the wall. Thankfully it didn't have anything breakable in it, but the contents did tip out and scatter around on the floor. Now he was just too distracted by that nonsense to worry about whatever the frag his little quip was going on about.
Breakdown slumped his shoulders and growled as he stared at the ceiling, then pinched at the inner portion of his existing optic and turned to go pick up the mess he had made. At least it gave him something to distract himself with since the femme had added to his list of annoyances and all he felt like doing was putting his fist through her faceplate. So he just crouched down, turned the mangled box upright, and started to pick up the scrap pieces one by one to put them back inside.
Last Edit: Nov 1, 2019 21:42:30 GMT -5 by Breakdown
Knock Out could only scowl as another insult was thrown. This one not aimed at him, but Breakdown - who had up until this point been far more polite than he had. Okay, so the comment about them both acting like sparklings was a little rude, but eh, he wasn’t exactly wrong.
Not that Knock Out would ever admit that.
“As is your lack of tact.” he spoke quietly, under his breath almost as he leaned back further in the chair - he’d rather not get into a scuffle with Coldwind, but it seemed his Energon prod was regretfully nowhere within sight, nor reach - hence the quiet response.
But- ah, she was approaching him now. Had she heard his mumbled words? Surely not. Then again even if she had and even if she did start something, Breakdown was here. Breakdown would protect him, right?
Trying to keep his attention on Coldwind now as he sat up once more, he cast a nervous side-glance to Breakdown, just to make sure that the bigger mech was paying attention to what was going on here. Only it seemed his partner had gone back to his original task of organizing the Medical Bay.
Hopefully a ruse, a false sense of security to lure Coldwind into thinking he wasn’t paying attention, then he’d lunge in and defend him the moment she tried something!
Coldwind stood before him now, and he would remain seated, peering up at her. Knock Out wasn’t exactly the tallest mech around, in fact he was ah… rather tiny, and in moments like this, he really felt it.
“Spirit?” He tsk’d, ignoring the ‘grounder’ comment. Snobby Fliers… Ugh. “I like to think of it as having a backbone - especially when dealing with rude individuals.” his comment was rather casual, and while not directly aimed at her in particular, there was probably a subtle jab in there somewhere.
“I am glad you like my ‘Spirit’, though.” a hum, paired with a gentle smile.
A glance over her shoulder, Knock Out paid it no attention. He - rather unfortunately - hadn’t seen the looming almost-shadow of Soundwave, what with Coldwind blocking his view of the door, figuring she was keeping tabs on Breakdown, and nothing more.
Opening his mouth once more, probably to throw out some more unneeded sass, he was quickly cut off before he could even utter a word, squawking out in alarm as Breakdown suddenly threw a box for seemingly no reason - his frame flinching at the sound of the impact. The tension in here had amassed to such a point that he was overly jumpy, and go figure it was Breakdown that broke the calm.
If it were not for the cameras across the Nemesis, and the slowly forming web of data collection within this new primitive base, Soundwave would have a vastly skewed perspective on how the occupants conducted themselves. Lies, shifting actions, dissuaded attempts of mischief or disarmed fights... In his presence each Decepticon took on a mirrored reflection of what could have been. More meek, more professional, or perhaps more prompt and authoritarian to try to earn rank or show value. Lies upon lies to appease.
The cameras revealed the real Decepticons however.
This situation was no different it seemed. While Coldwind did not directly regard him, and didn’t draw undue attention his way, Soundwave was not blind to the subtle glance that cast over her shoulder. Silent confirmation that what she sensed was indeed there, observing, watching, leading to a shift in the Femme's tone. Still brisk, still abrupt, but not appearing to be gearing up for a fight, actually pitching an underhanded compliment masked within an insult in perhaps the only way she knew how.
Soundwave didn't know much about this new individual. The data logs and deeper files still locked away in the Nemesis, but he did know the vague information that she crossed paths with Starscream at one point to serve beneath his rule and stand at his side, and that was good enough to keep a particularly sharp eye on her conduct. This wasn’t some trivial underling, but an individual that could be a real threat to the way things were going to go around here.
As the Seeker disappeared within the room, Soundwave's movements gradually formed once again. A soft rock of weight forward, a shift of lopping arms countering the dampened footfalls... This slow stride would land Soundwave before the doorway, just after Breakdown cast the crate to the side in an action the navy mech couldn’t quite place the source of.
The blackened visor snapped over to the crate as it spilled its contents, soft clicking sounding out, almost as if the incident was habitually recorded or zoomed in upon, before attention shifted over to the dusty blue mech to try to decipher the source of the violent movement since he did not initially believe Coldwind's words to be enough to set him off.
Soundwave had not planned to stay after his little initial intimidation act, but now curiosity temporarily rooted him down within the doorway. In turn, an unseen gaze would flick over to Coldwind, assuming Knock Out's frame was blocked by her mass, before he glanced back at Breakdown. With a subtle crook of the helm, he would tilt ever so slightly, mirroring the medic's sentiment with a wordless query towards the brawler.
The pompous medic wasn't of Coldwind's preferred ilk. She was so very used to subservient underlings. Decepticons who would roll over at the sound of her name, snap into action at the sound of her voice, and fear the sound of her weapon. Ah, indeed, those days were long gone. But she would make do. She always did. And if she couldn't break somebody, she would at the very least bend them to their limits.
That was how she chose to do business with Knock Out. One flippant remark added to the next, building upon their mutual disrespect. But by now, it seemed easier to meet this chat with amusement—and so she did. Knock Out's comment about having a backbone particularly struck a chord with her.
"I am certain you do," the Vosnian stated after the fact. Her voice was mellow, hushed, and if one were to make an educated guess, probably sarcastic. Knock Out had a lot of things, clearly. But backbone? That was going a bit too far. At least Coldwind thought so.
But then—as the Seeker prepared her next witty retort—a crashing sound thundered across the room. She turned around to see Breakdown's little mess and Soundwave's shadowy silhouette looming behind. It almost made Coldwind sneer, but by now, such display of irritation was an old, tired tune. She had no further use for it. A raised brow would do the job just as well, without so much as betraying a hint of grievance.
"Your assistant appears to be glicthing," the femme said with cold indifference, waving a servo over the scene. Despite the obvious lack of care in her voice, it seemed she started paying an unusual amount of attention to Breakdown. Either she was slow to dismiss his incompetence, assuming she is as shallow as she seems, or—hopefully—she was trying to determine the cause of his sudden outburst. Surely, her off-hand comments did not merit such a response, did they now?