>> @paniicea
“Whirl if you... wanted to sit with me for a while I'd be open to that. it's just an offer though.”
“I don’t need your sympathies,” he grouches, even as he’s already tromping over to First Aid, claws tucked in low and close to his frame like a raptor in unsettled agitation. “You’re the one who’s really gonna be suffering, once that old, bitter, aftport of a medic bites the dust. He can’t even do us all a favor and make it painless.”
Too-long legs fold strangely gracefully, and then Whirl’s draping himself over the new (or is it not yet official? He doesn’t give a microscopic piece of slag about the specifics) C.M.O, his helm in First Aid’s lap and the rest of him curling around the smaller mech in a protective half-moon.
“That’s Ratchet for ya, though. Boo-hoo, suck it up and rub some graphite on it.”
