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*Up until yesterday, Breakdown had been content to lurk happily in his Santa-magically hidden room. And he was still content to lurk there, petting the fur of his pretty, soft, freakish caricature of a earthian life form....and have the comforting safety of his Big Fragging Gun tucked beside his berth within easy reach. But after last night, things had gotten weird. Dead End...something was very wrong with Dead End. His brother. His favorite brother... And now Prime was calling them into his office, for who knew what? Oh, he was sure they were in trouble for something. But it couldn't be for that... Breakdown shock his head, curling into a smaller ball on his berth, despite the raging, uncomfortable twisting in his fuel tanks - he doesn't know where the feeling came from, or why, but its been there since last night and its making him uncomfortable as frag. Quickly tucking the small plush away in a subspace compartment in his arm, giving it one last pat, before scuttling out the door with a nervous look down the corridor to each side, engine whining with building nervousness. It was time to go face Prime...* [[This should have been posted earlier today before the slagging commenced, but oh well... .__. ]] Tags: big gun, toy, trouble
Current Location: Leaving his safe room
Current Mood:  distressed
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[[Set earlier today, before the massive fist fight and before Breakdown found Dead End down in the unused hallways and such]] *stiffly walks off from a rarely used - and up until last night, unused - room near the medbay, slowly picking up speed the further he gets, before tearing off down the halls of the base as he leaves...that...ROOM, and that MESS from last night behind. He finally gives in and transforms, tries squealing shortly as he peels out, and soon he's driving down corridors he's never even been in before, completely lost in his dull panic as he flees from that...that ROOM and that situation and that- THAT! GRAH! His processor, perviously partially offlined due to a panic attack, is coming back online fully, allowing him to think more on what had happened, and the consequences of that could be if it was found out-! PRIMUS HE WAS NEVER DRINKING AGAIN, NEVERNEVERNEVER!!! PRIMUSHEWASAMORON! INSANE! OOOOHHOLYFREAKINGSLAG! *continues racing on down through the halls, panic slowly cycling and burning itself out as he just drives on through the base, going no where in particular...* Tags: drunken interface, slag
Current Location: Random, rarely used hallways
Current Mood: scared
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*the sound of quiet thumping bangs fill the hall, as the welded metal keeping Breakdown's door sealed shut for the past week or so is hacked and battered and melted away from the inside* *eventually, the door cracks open, and a red face peeks out cautiously, optics darting back and forth, taking in the dark hall around his room, and a small, sly smile fills his face. Quickly, he transforms and tears off down the hallway towards the nearest base exit, tires squealing and engine roaring, a mad lamborghini loose in the pathways, practically going up the walls on the turns* Tags: blow stuff up, good slagging mood!, race, wildrider
Current Location: Base hallways somewhere, moving towards the exit
Current Mood:  ecstatic
Current Music: Three Days Grace - Riot
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gonna_breakdown's journal
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FREAKING THE FUCK OUT
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