Mar 19, 2023
@koi-dog-bot (x)
"Well, I guess you got yourself a 'good noodle' up there to come to that conclusion. You have learned well, noodle son."
"It's almost like I've known you for a while."
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@koi-dog-bot (x)
"Well, I guess you got yourself a 'good noodle' up there to come to that conclusion. You have learned well, noodle son."
"It's almost like I've known you for a while."
Juke help they’re following me
✫
✫ for a text meant for someone else
[txt] Heeeeeeeeeey good morning sunshine~ Had a good time last night. Hit me up if you wanna investigate some bedrock later ~~~ ;3
koi-dog-bot replied to your post: “The amount of mecha who want to stick their digits into my mouth just...”:
Sounds like a lot of mecha wanna lose hands, because that's how you lose hands
It is. In fact the last mecha in my universe who thought it would be hilarious to continuously wave their filthy digits in my facia, did almost loose their’s. Or at least the one those digits were attached to.
So why people still think this is a good idea is beyond me.
It had taken the twins some time to calm, but Juke wasn’t going to be shot on sight. Thankfully. Blaster did like the mini, and in one piece. Which was the reason he was looking for him, by himself. He still felt a bit guilty about letting Juke get in that much trouble with a) a medic and b) a SpecOps agent. He really hadn’t expected them to react quite as strongly as they had, though, in hindsight, it was obvious.
Still. He felt like he at least owed Juke an apology. Now if he could only find him.
The Juke and the Jerk
@koi-dog-bot
Windchill slowed as he approached his destination, the mountain rising through the atmospheric haze and swathe of trees in the distance. He’d ignored the place for years; even a clear energon signal wasn’t tempting enough for him to brave the mountain’s innards to retrieve it. He’d never been desperate enough, and that much hadn’t changed.
Today’s venture was inspired not by need, but by curiosity. The way Windchill had it figured, if he knew the energon was there then surely others braver than himself had moved in on it. Knowing if that was the case and the nature of said squatters was worth the trip.
He really, really hoped that it wasn’t M.E.C.H. skulking this close to home. No sooner had the thought crossed his paranoid mind than he spotted a clearing amongst the gargantuan trees below. The jet transformed and dropped from the sky like a turd from a bird. Countless microorganisms lost their lives when his heels hit the turf, and Windchill, the lone survivor, shook his wings into their proper place. He plodded toward the signal’s zenith, hopping over fallen trees and trudging up every knoll the mountain threw at him until he was faced with a door.
He blinked, and the door (a faceless door,) stared back at as insolently as doors do. Chill put his hands on his hips and stuck out his lower lip.
Well, that confirmed his suspicions. There was only one thing to do about it.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUCKERS?!”
snap ((rubs hands together dis gonna be gud))
The seeker panted eagerly, admiring his wicked contraption so prettily fastened around Juke’s neck.
“Is it reprehensible that I find you so attractive in a collar, dear?”