The para trooper area was more a bay on the platform, something that was as much as a recreation area as work shop for them. The Wreckers had not seemed to mind shuffling some rooms so that the newest additions to the crew were closer together instead of spread out on the Xanthium to start with. IT was also half the home that one young predacon knew, and knew it was safe to practice prowling around.
She was far from graceful like even the working cyber wolves in the crew, or the pest control unites of turbo-foxes and Cyber raptors. It was…oddly nice, getting the chance at real rest and some care from medics before putting back on active duty- not that were was not a ton of things on the Platform. As well as the underground levels of Cybertron where surprisingly large for the Paratroopers to have some fun- though the hovering squid were….different.
There was a huff and a soft thump, the sparking predacon shaking her head as she ran into a red colored leg, golden optics had been on a green form. She sneezed in protest that the stalking was interrupted. More pouting until she was picked up by a mecha, chuckling answered her as Peddled curled up in reflex.
“Ya getting’ better little one.” The red mech grinned, shameless in the current peaceful moment to boob his head against Peddles’ own, and got a small lick back.
“Primus Cross, why’d ye have ta find the cute things.” One of the other adult mechs asked from his lounging spot.
“Meck,” Peddles squeaked as she was lifted into another set of arms and walked over to the new speaker. She huffed and wiggled her paws that seemed almost too big for her before tucking the big little paws up. She liked being held by her strange family, laying on her back partly and against the chest of whoever was carrying her. It was not her caretaker, the one that was virtually her sire- she knew his scent well now, but the hatchling was alright about that. More so when careful but blunted talons of the free hand rubbed over her head and muzzle where the oversized fangs where growing. The little predacon’s optics dimmed and closed, giving a soft sound that one day would be a purr.
The bigger mech settled down, leaning on one that smelled like her sire. She was getting cuddled at the moment and was happy to stay put, even when another paratrooper leaned over to smush her face, then smush his face against her softer underside. A little more exposed softer flex metal and fuzz like fur on her back. Soft claws peeked out as she kneeled back on the green helm, murring as her muzzle was rubbed again.
“Ya do not deserve this soft spark,” A green mecha said, shamelessly flopping down to try and- gently- steal the hatchling.
“Oy!” crosshairs made a face, ignoring that maaay be true, and stood up from his work table to come over.
“Like ya haven’t adopted the sparking already?” Crosshairs demanded, arching an optic ridge as he crossed his arms, looming over the sudden cuddle flop-pile that started.
The three lounging grinned shameless, one of the Paratroopers grabbing at Crosshair’s over armor and tugging. “True enough. Come spend time with ya’r fuzzy sparkling befer one of us become her sire instead.” The speaker motioned to the now recharging hatchling, happily limp under the pets and attention for now. Crosshairs knew she would be demanding her feeder soon enough, but let himself get pulled down and after a huff, got the hatchling into his arms for the nap.