[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]Mixed Nuts [Coldwind, Knock Out, and Flamesnort
Jul 29, 2020 17:12:13 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jul 29, 2020 17:12:13 GMT -5
If Flamesnort had been warm before because of his natural ability to simply be hot, he was now flushed with a natural ability to be embarrassed. He knew that he needed to transform with some regularity, but he had been remiss in actually doing one of the few tasks of self maintenance that was he was more than capable of performing himself. He actually had to think quite hard to remember. His tail tapped as he thought, a gentle rhythmic thump on the slab upon which he now lay. Eons alone had enabled at least that one habit.
He looked away from Knockout, unable to hold optic contact for his admission. "Some five decades I believe, Summer of 1969 to use the calendar of the indigenous vermin."
Yes, Flamesnort had not flown in fifty years. He had been scared to share the airspace with the vehicles the squishies used, trying to avoid their near oppressive use of radar and radio. But he had had nowhere to go, and if wanderlust did take him, then he took to the sea instead. The odd mysterious sunken boat was no price at all for the sanctity of his sanctum.
"The salt will be from seawater, I do make a great effort to rince, evaporate and burn any residue after a swim." With that at least he was not embarrassed. He enjoyed swimming, and though that made him an even greater rarity, he cared not for the thoughts of others on that point.
"Flying fortress now sunken, there's a slew of questions right there but they can wait in line. I presume we still have yet to wipe away the smear of the Autobot resistance?" Had he asked Coldwind? He couldn't remember, there was just a tiny jot of worry at the back of Flamesnort mind, but if he had asked, and forgotten, well there were good reasons.
Hiding in a cave, on a planet with an extremely abundant sentient lifeform. Even to Flamesnort, it was evident that infiltration protocol was active and the Decepticon had yet to exterminate the local vermin.
He looked away from Knockout, unable to hold optic contact for his admission. "Some five decades I believe, Summer of 1969 to use the calendar of the indigenous vermin."
Yes, Flamesnort had not flown in fifty years. He had been scared to share the airspace with the vehicles the squishies used, trying to avoid their near oppressive use of radar and radio. But he had had nowhere to go, and if wanderlust did take him, then he took to the sea instead. The odd mysterious sunken boat was no price at all for the sanctity of his sanctum.
"The salt will be from seawater, I do make a great effort to rince, evaporate and burn any residue after a swim." With that at least he was not embarrassed. He enjoyed swimming, and though that made him an even greater rarity, he cared not for the thoughts of others on that point.
"Flying fortress now sunken, there's a slew of questions right there but they can wait in line. I presume we still have yet to wipe away the smear of the Autobot resistance?" Had he asked Coldwind? He couldn't remember, there was just a tiny jot of worry at the back of Flamesnort mind, but if he had asked, and forgotten, well there were good reasons.
Hiding in a cave, on a planet with an extremely abundant sentient lifeform. Even to Flamesnort, it was evident that infiltration protocol was active and the Decepticon had yet to exterminate the local vermin.