[Those from Earth might be familiar with the old movie cliche of the prisoner rattling his cup back and forth over the bars of his cell.  Whirl somehow also knows this cliche.  And is doing it.]

[Except he's doing it with his face. ]

Nnnnnnngh. So fraggin' bored!!

Someone come kill me or something.

[Miko slipped away from the hustle and bustle of the party at the bar, finally having hit a point where she couldn't hide her upset feelings. She made her way over to the junk pile and hid behind a few of the mounds where they were tall enough to hide her from anyone just walking by.

There she sat down and curled in on herself, starting to cry quietly. There were many things for her to be happy about, but all the stresses, of being away from home, having such a hard time with food, everything about Bulkhead's injury and losing Wheeljack had piled on top of itself and she couldn't keep it all in.

She tried to keep quiet but there was little chance that she would be able to stop crying now that she had started. There were tears running down her face and she knew anyone who just looked at her would know..]

(OOC: Feel free to have your character notice her leaving the party or wandering across her after a little while. Action is open to all (we can fudge time lines a little xD)

[the voice...may be familiar, to some. if only because of the fact that it sounds like Optimus slagging Prime.

a somewhat deeper, drier, and utterly deadpan Optimus Prime, that is. who sounds more than a little...annoyed. we'll go with that. and maybe a little resigned?]

If I asked for the dimensional coordinates, would anyone have any idea what I was talking about.

So I wake up in some room that ain't my own, and have some no-good, tin-faced mooks try to tell me things. Now I don' care what they say, sounds like to me that someone is a lookin' for a fight! And boy did they get one.

[Whoa, who is this cowboy? Someone should tell him to calm down, there has to be a limit to the amount of intensity one can put in their words after all.]

You don't kidnap a Predacon and expect to get away scot-free now do ya?!

Y'all better tell me where Bossbot is! Or else I guess I'll be havin' me some more keisters to kick! Y'all better tell me where I am too, and no lies!

[He bounces eagerly from foot to foot, almost desperate to find himself a nice good fight. When you're unsure about things, you shoot em right? When you ain't got nothin' to shoot, you find somethin' to shoot.]

[When the feed switches on, there's a Tuck sitting there, looking as though he may be holding his device in his lap from the angle of everything. Where he is, though, is anyone's guess. He looks more or less tired, though from the condition of his skin, it's hard to tell anything by looks alone.]

Back home, I lived on the streets in a major city for a while. I can tell you I've had to bust a few heads just to stay alive. It's not that I'm saying this to try and prove anything or to try and gain pity. But this place and what's been going on recently, I don't think it'll get any better. There are things here I've never seen and I don't know how to properly defend myself against any of it.

I don't need to be told I'm not home anymore, and I don't know if I ever will be. [That thought gives him pause, though not for long.] But with that in mind, I've been thinking. I'm not the only not-a-robot living here, but I don't want to just sit around and hope someone will protect me. Never was a fan of that sort of thing. So how have you guys survived?