((Decided to add links to my other RP blogs on my blog. Notably to prevent confusion, because I have way too many and so many fall into inactivity on a whim. Oops))
::Why thank you, Wheeljack. You’re looking… well, normal i suppose.::
"I’ll take that as a compliment. So what brings you out here? If you’re looking for Blaster, then you’re looking in the wrong direction," Wheeljack shrugged, attempting to wipe off some grease he’d acquired from working on his ship earlier.
Reminds me of Seaspray
…Okay, I haven’t been around in a while, but when did I even get close to having one hundred and thirty-two followers?
oobii said: imagine baby bastion with his speech impediment having a hard time saying 'wheeljack' so he just says 'unca wheewhee' instead
..need to check my askbox more often.
Tracks looked at Perceptor curiously wondering what was going on.
::Positively so, and I fear not. Which is why what better a time to teach him a lesson, don’t you think?:: A snide smirk.
"Tracks, pick your weapon of choice. Your opponent is on his way from the sound of it, and he’s not pleased. Shame on you for talking as you do of him," furrowing his brow, giving him a stern and serious look.
"Told him everything you said and then some." Okay, he didn’t say any of what Tracks had spoken of at all. But that didn’t matter, you get the gist of it. "And I am obligated to forewarn you, he isn’t in the best of moods."
Too bad Wheeljack looked about as threatening as a lethargic kitten as he entered the room. One winglet was half cocked to the side, while the other threatened to droop equally so. What? He was tired. Tired, but ready, and he gave them both a smirk.
"So, heard you were lookin’ for me," he said, straightening. "So what’ll it be: a duel? Always been a fan of swords, myself.."
Hence the two nice, shiny ones nigh permanently adhered to his back.