#rarw

Lazerbeak comes online with a jolt, literally, as her half-powered engine tries to online despite the cascade of system checks still running through her frame as things power on in rapid succession. Her joints immediately ache with crimped strain, and a current feels like it shorts out in her left upper spine somewhere, but she’s awake, and she’s immediately worried. The EM-fields surrounding her are anything but calm and relaxed, and she’s pretty sure it’s Soundwave’s distress that yanked her out of recharge so deep, she’s not even sure if she should really count herself as actually awake yet.

-=”What’s wron--?”=- is barely out her vox in a panicked twitter while she desperately tries to run transformation scripts the absolute instant her engine is fully online, Spark whirling with distress, before she’s cut off.

A silent ping from her Carrier, faster than any words could have been, immediately informs her that all is well. Sort of. He didn’t actually send the code for all is well, but he sure didn’t send something that said everything’s bad wrong no fun. Context hints at greater nuance, and she’s sure she’ll find out soon enough.

He just said things are… Stable.

Which prompts her to wonder, what had rocked the scales?

Then she feels the tiniest pluck at her own EM-field, as a plaintive voice calls out to her in a quiet, breathy plead that’s interrupted by what sounds like the cutest, most concerning, little organic beeps.

Their human is hiccuping again. Frag. Also holy scrap that’s so adorable, why? How can a glitchy sequence be so cute?

“Be-- hic! --eaky! Make him p-- hic! --ut me d-ow-- hic! --own!” her Squishy whines.

The quiet tonal distress that bleeds of Soundwave is answer enough. He’s not just cranky, he’s fussing.

-=”She makes that noise when she’s stressed,”=- Lazerbeak observes after transferring her conscious focus of language through new software, speaking to Soundwave through the silent comms. Aloud, she makes the softest, most gentle coo in binary she possibly can, hoping it soothes their Squishy. To Soundwave, she thinks; -=”What happened?”=-

-=”Sick,”=- he responds immediately, the worry starting to leak from his EM-field and into hers, enough to paint the picture. -=”I think. Won’t provide diagnostics.”=-

If she could roll her eyes, Beaky would.

-=”Just ask her what she needs,”=- she suggests. Even if they had the information of her vital functions, they’d hardly know what to do with it or what was normal for her. An oversight she’s starting to think they should remedy as soon as possible, but maybe after Squishy is better again.

“Dammit, Sounders! Set me down,” Butterfly pleads, freely providing an answer, and Lazerbeak hears him suck in a sharp in-vent. It comes out loud and clear, even over the sound of her own engine turning online with a startled fuel-flush, hearing the nickname said by another’s voice.

For a split klik, no one says anything.

Then, Knockout lets out a sputtering laugh he immediately attempts to smother, but as soon as his vox is muted, the idiot’s engine onlines with a noisy rumble that blatantly broadcasts his amusement. Auugh! Shut the frag up you noisy fuck! Lazerbeak thinks bitterly, seriously considering the pros and cons of electrocuting his shiny aft. She’s mad enough to think in human insults, just to hurl ever more irritation and dislike his way.

She feels cringing sympathy even before her Squishy outwardly recoils from the sound with another pained whimper.