#swepforwardjet

[text: groovy]

Freelock gets up from his chair and double checks the target dummy. It’s an average sized cybertronian type dummy that’s decked out in various armor types.

This is gonna be fun.

Ironhide knocks on the doorframe to Freelock’s workshop about ten minutes later, excitement and interest thrumming in his field. He’s been itching for a good project but hasn’t had much to do on his own. Perhaps whatever Freelock has to offer will be just what the medic ordered.

Shifting his weight from pede to pede, Ironhide shoot Freelock a playful but impatient comm.

😵 A muse keeps the other awake with 3 am thoughts

@swepforwardjet

Ross grumbles as a message pings. As not to wake Pharma, she burrows under the blanket with her pocket watch to stifle the noise and light. She hisses the brightness of the screen, rubbing her eyes until they adjust. Then she blinks at Freelock’s message. What... what is he even talking about? She considers going back to sleep -- he’s probably about to pass out as his workstation -- but she’s already woken herself up enough to read the message, so she might as well answer. Thankfully, she has spellcheck, so her reply comes out coherent. 

[Text: Darling. I appreciate the uniqueness of your mind, and I’m grateful that you want to share it with me. But it is the middle of the night or whatever sleep time is in space. If there is time in space. The point is I was asleep and need more sleep to be able to do person stuff like walk and be awake during normal awake times.]

send me 🎁  to find out what my muse would get yours for christmas! (not accepting)

Oh, Ironhide has a gift for Freelock.

Freelock hands him a shot glass filled with a bright crimson colored energon with swirls of silver in it. “I’m thinking of calling it, tyrants reprieve.” Freelock says. The energon inside is quite strong and to be perfectly honest, completely flammable when exposed to open air.

“Tyrant’s reprieve, huh?” Ironhide echos, eyeing the shot glass. He takes it and stares at it for a few moments before kicking it back in one go--

--and immediately starts coughing at the strength of it. It burns in his intake, but he manages to swallow it down before a laugh bubbles up from his chest. He looks back up at Freelock, optics still stinging at the taste but with a wide grin on his faceplates.

[ text ] How eloquent of you, Freelock.

[ text ] No need for the sweet talk, though. I’ll be there in ten minutes or so.

…alright, Ironhide definitely needs to start actually using the locks on his door. How the frag did Freelock get in and do all of this without waking him up?! Ironhide is a notoriously light recharger, after all. And Primus, sixty of them?! Ironhide’s pretty sure he doesn’t even have that much space in his habsuite.

Heaving a sigh, Ironhide tosses the egg in the air and snatches at it as he pushes him up off the berth–

–and immediately steps on an egg, resulting in a mess of crumpled metal and jellied candy on the bottom of his pede that makes Ironhide’s plating flare out in sudden, acute disgust.

Happy Easter.

He just prays to whatever deities may or may not be out there that the cats don’t find something and get into it first.

*sprawls out in a take me now pose*