Who obsessed? I’m obsessed?
Come on out, Stinger. I'll be more than happy to give you another helm-ache
— -Don’t mind this yellow camaro he is just gonna lay himself across the cool grass and maybe stay there for a cycle or two. The patrols have been running his systems dry lately.
She chuckled at his nonchalant attitude about her question, knowing full well he was full of it. She worries about them being out and about, too, especially in the middle of the night. That usually meant they were out causing trouble more than anything, but so long as there were no explosions or news broadcasts, it’d be fine.
She let her hand rest against his servo, lightly running her palm over the smooth finish and letting her cheek perch against her folded arm. She stopped when he asked why she, of all people, was still awake at that hour. She half lid her eyes, letting out a sigh of her own and facing him, “Well…”
She didn’t know how to tell him that it was normal for her to not sleep much at all, at least, normal in the sense of recently. She sighed, “I don’t sleep much anymore at night. Maybe sometimes I can nap during the day, but,” she shrugged and moved her arms to ragdoll over his servo once again, “I don’t like my dreams.”
— -He doesn’t quite understand ‘dreams’. The scout has done his own research on the sensation but he still remains not very knowledgable as to how the process truly works. It was almost very similar if one were to access memory logs while in recharge… yet some events may turn out altered.
However, Bumblebee has also been a very restless bot these cycles when it came to powering down. Some nights himself and maybe one or two of his comrades would remain awake for hours on end. The past years proved that it was worth skipping a recharge cycle or two in order to stay alert of enemy attacks.
He could relate in some way or another with the human.
The hushed sounds of crickets can he heard from beyond the barn’s walls as a light silence falls.
"What are these… ‘dreams’ that keep occurring?" The bot asks, his optic shutters blinking.
— -“Greetings, Sir.”
Although Stinger was certain the Autobot was nowhere near, he backed away, up against a crumbling wall and willed himself to calm down.
His head still hurt.
::Find someone else to kill, Autobot.::
— -He knew the copycat was close. The mech’s blaster hums, it ready for any sudden charge of attack. His steps are precise, like how one would stock their prey.
A growl of his engines.
I believe that can not be arranged. As you and I have unfinished business. |