It seemed unworthy of him to even be in the same room as the great swordsmech, so the blue knight claimed himself, so there was the longevity of hesitation coming from him with a fiddle of his own digits and a almost shuffle backwards towards the entryway.
But the digits won the battle in the end, reaching and take the clawed servo before joining on the ground.
Silence remained... till only then his thoughts seemed like they got everything together to ask his mediator an important question:
"Ser.. do you ever have such doubts? Such as---- what you thought you suppose to be?"
" oh dear. it's been a long, hard day for you, hasn't it? " a clawed servo is offered, alongside a gentle smile, as the swordsmech's finials droop & his optics become a tealish—blue of sympathy. " you may come meditate with me, if you'd like or if you feel the need. i would be happy to help you find some clarity ! "
Uh oh, his nose started to wrinkled, crinkled in a shape before there's a huff.
Puff.
.
.
Then the most stained noise coming through the beast's nostrils known to mechs was heard, despite the pain riddled on his face from not able to BLOW outloud.
Thanks to @photobombingcryptid, it's now a known fact that once Beastie actually gets a fill he'd basically have a week hibernation nap since before during his hunts he only gets the bare minimal of his meals.
Silverblade came as if though he was already called upon, finials high and perked and a face of determination. It almost, oddly, seemed natural for the knight to immediately know what seemed off.
From what he descried it once to a medic, it was like a radar in his body. Always having this feeling that something needs something, or rather someone that does if distressed, and on command he has to go and sought whatever out.
Like Jazz, it seemed.
No sign of his brethren in his frontal sight, but it didn't stop him from searching and sniffing him out. Then-- something just gave him a sudden shiver that only gave him a hint to set his optics up at the vent system. As swiftly as he came into the room, the determined knight made a hasty attempt to try and go through it.
Not without of course some twists and turns from his lower half.
"Ser Jazz, are you there? Your savior has come to save thee!"
It's cold this morning.
He's not feeling particularly well, and the small hoard of blankets he's managed to covet is corralled into a nest-shape. The warming mat underneath the pile is turned on, and he crawls in to brace himself against one side.
More blankets are piled on him, and soon enough- the mat is doing it's job and warming the space under and around him. Now and again, a shiver wracks his frame- but he utters no sound as he tries to get comfortable.
One clawed hand absently drapes over the rim of said nest- and he allows the majority of his systems to go into stand-by mode. Then again, however, his nest in the vent system is well hidden so he doesn't expect any visitors.
multi-muse blog ft. Transformers muses from various continuities including Beast Wars: Transformers, Transformers: Animated, Transformers: Armada, and more!
you're a modern queen. you sit to the side of the dance floor and drink out of martini glasses, a perfect vantage point to look over your court. you like to see the way people's eyes linger on you, hoping you'll see them, that they'll gain your approval. you are offered drinks by many overeager servants throughout the night. when you finally join the ball, the sea of people parts just for you, and you hear the nervous titters of the crowd who are so captivated by what you'll do next.