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3 - Silly - Ironhide n LennoxThe clatter of body armor and weaponry was almost unheard over the deafening roar of the engine of the Autobot the soldiers rode upon. Ironhide didn't mind being used for transport, after all. He was the largest, most open-bodied of the bots that were not kept for more severe situations Optimus, during these sorts of missions, was usually resigned to a transport aircraft high above whatever city they were heading to.
Nearest to the cab rode Major Will Lennox, his hand always resting in the same spot against the big black truck's frame. For the both of them, it was a sign of the friendship they shared... one most humans would never have the opportunity to experience. Smell 'im yet, Ironhide? he questioned. We're getting' restless back here.
Ironhide snorted a response through the smokestacks at his sides, giving his huge body a shake so much like the big bloodhound Sgt. Robert Epps had nick
Lullaby for RatchetCybertron pre-Movies, still fairly early in the war. Ironhide/Ratchet comfortyness.
The door between the medbay and recovery slid aside with a soft hiss.
Ironhide was pulled out of recharge once again, blinking momentarily in the dim light. The weapons specialist was attempting to shake off the aftereffects of a mortar round to the chest, which had also left shrapnel imbedded in his neck and shoulder. Once the plating and underlying components had been mended and the foreign scrap removed, he had been laid out in recovery to let his self-repair systems finish the job. Recharge cycles post-op were always restless and fraught with breaks; pain, some error or alert, system demands for energon or the rounds from the medics.
Other recently repaired warriors had slowly been brought in, filling the room. The black mech had come to when most of them were escorted in and settled onto a berth by the unassuming figure of F
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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