Armada-'verse. Cyberton. Wishes in the night.

[random_xtras]

Nightwish blinks as she comes back online, and then quirks a slight grin as she realizes that she's laying on the floor in her quarters, in her favorite place partially underneath her berth. -I made it home. Bonus.-

Then she lifts her head to looks at the tiny being sheltered in the curve of her body, one long finger tracing gently along his helm as she remembers how many times she'd had to rescue him from walking over the edge of the bar the night before. "Hey, 'Clash are you awake yet?"

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[random_xtras]

She catches it, and he gets the sense that she's confident he'd find someone else without trouble.

Then she settles down again and seems to look at him for a long moment.

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

There's a surge of frustration. What kind of Decepticon wants to die?

Thunderclash can't outright order her, though - or at least he doesn't think he can. He steadies himself, waiting to see what she does. To see how far he'll have to go to convince her to stay.

[random_xtras]

She wonders how far he'd go. -...Proud one.-

The thought is matter of fact, but then the coherency vanishes abruptly in an overwhelming surge of nausea.

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

Fool one, he thinks bitterly, shuddering with the nausea. Proud one wouldn't play a hero.

[random_xtras]

-Was... hungover.... Nggnnnn.- She clings to him mentally, trying to find steadiness as her awareness flickers and surges. -Gonna... owe you my spark....-

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

Thunderclash... really doesn't have a problem with that. He's not sure if he can hold onto her in turn, but he tries. Makeshift's doing something, he hopes.