#first to aid

[cor-armatum]

[ hand ] (They're going through a crowd of people and First Aid doesn't want to get lost) @first-to-aid

[ HAND ] : Your muse takes hold of my muses hand.

It had been startling how sudden a crowd could build, but not necessarily unexpected. On moment the two were walking through the halls of the Lost Light, and the next, bots of all kinds, from both their universes, were racing through. It was likely that Swerve or Rodimus was hosting one of their… events. It was hard for Magnus to keep track of them, especially when he had been kicked from Swerve’s group chat again and again and— it was something he had to address. Again.

There was no hallway or room close enough to avoid them — so First Aid’s solution was probably the best one.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he made an attempt to step through and around these mecha with First Aid in tow.

[shatteredscavengers]

closed thread with @first-to-aid || continued from here

"Really, I'll be fine. I'm just at college, okay?" First Aid reassured his fathers over the phone. He had moved to college, and both of his parents were worried for him. "Yes, I'll text you if anything happens, I love you, bye!"

There were also the rumors of the place being haunted, but he didn't put much stock in that. First Aid didn't believe in ghosts, anyway.

He looked around at the stacks of boxes, and signed. "Well, I should get unpacked." He said to no one in particular.

Ah, there was the new guy right now!

For a few moments, he pondered introducing himself. Would it be better to rip the band-aid off now, or wait until he’d settled in before springing the existence of ghosts on him?

Would he leave?

Sure, the housing market probably hadn’t improved any since Fulcrum had been kicked from this mortal coil, but he probably had something to fall back on. Of course, he wouldn’t begrudge the guy for running— if it were him, he’d hightail it out of there the second he had proof of the haunting.

And that would leave Fulcrum alone.

[rxng]

"If it's not too much of a bother, I, um, would like a scarf too please" (first-to-aid)

"Ah. Yes. Of course."

Huh. He's... not as exuberant here. First Aid gets a scarf anyway, but it's not one of the pre-customized ones.

Guess someone is actually holding a grudge over his First Aid being part of the rebellion that kicked him off his ship. Give him a few days; he'll feel bad, once this wears off, and come back with a better scarf.

[cybertronian-medical-files]

First Aid, prepare to be hugged! By a smaller First Aid! He won't let anyone be sad on his watch! @first-to-aid

"A hug? From a smaller version of myself?" He was rather baffled by this statement.

[cor-armatum]

🖌️? @first-to-aid

Send me a 🖌 and I’ll draw your muse terribly.

A lil friendly guy! Love him.

[cor-armatum]

"I have a bow tie, too!" First Aid reached behind his back, and pulled out a little red bow tie! @first-to-aid

“It appears that I am not alone in this then,” he simply said, his tone taking on a just barely eased lilt. He adjusted how his gloves sat on his servos, somewhat unused to the sensation of fabric on his frame, no matter how small.

[cor-armatum]

"purr" @first-to-aid

Send “purr” for my muse’s reaction to hearing your muse purr.

Minimus has chosen to discard his armor, for the cycle. It had become quite a busy one, dealing with the various relations, negotiations, and most of all, shenanigans that came with a cycle in a universe that wasn’t his own. Though… any normal cycle had all three of those things — just in a more familiar dosage.

But now, he stood, at rest. Not total rest, but it wasn’t running around telling the taller mecha not to throw their smaller counterparts. He turned his helm to see First Aid, the other First Aid.

“Ah, hello First Aid,” he said. Then he noticed the rumble seemingly coming from the other— “Is your engine purring?”