1. [Voice]

[warborn]

[for a long few moments, there's only the sound of ventilation. fans cycling a mech's air systems. he's clicked on his radio, yeah, but now?

now he has no idea what to say, except something slightly hysterical.]

This is a lot different than I thought the Pit'd look like.

[said in the tone of someone-please-tell-me-I'm-totally-incorrect]

Comments

[idle_time]

[These alternate universe Autobots are very culturally deprived.]

I talk TV!

I am Wreck-Gar. Name, rank, and serial number, soldier?

[warborn]

[TV is a hell of a language, apparently.]

Fortress Maximus. [beat] Former warden. [which is another way of him admitting he has no idea what his current rank is, all told :|;;]

[idle_time]

Wish I could say it was a pleasure to have you on this show, Max, but even the consolation prizes aren't so great.

[warborn]

[well, at least he can...sort of...understand it.]

So how many of us are there here, then?

[idle_time]

Answer hazy, ask again later?

[warborn]

...I'll just take that as a you don't have any idea.

[idle_time]

Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!

your wreck gar is amazing please do not take max's feels as my own ;n;

[warborn]

[not impossible to understand, at least]

...right. Yeah. You got anything else helpful to say?

[because mainly he's not sure if he wants to try to keep wrapping his head around the way you talk :|]

thanks!

[idle_time]

Repairs needed? Junkions fix you up like new!

[because Wreck-Gar is friendly to all Autobots.]

[warborn]

Ehn- not right now. Someone seems to have fixed the hole in my chest, but if I need a medic, I'll hunt you guys down.

[maybe

possibly

...if he can't find anyone else]

[idle_time]

If you need to get to talking, just let your fingers do the walking.