Redstrike mumbles something in his sleep and twists himself over until he’s basically shrimp curled in on himself, no longer snoring, but he looks like he’s trying to become a rolled up hose. Batgotti’s wings sometimes twitch in his sleep only to be tucked back in tighter, the bat-former’s audials twitching this minutely toward any sound.

Codeblue doesn’t do so much as stir. The medic really and truly is very out of it. His pedes don’t even twitch as he lightly snores away in his chair. And Spyder? Well, if one looks underneath the (engine? Turbine? Large…THING) he’s working on they’ll find he fell asleep with a wrench in one hand, his goggles still on, a sodering iron and a screwdriver in two of his other limbs and a flashlight in another one. Thankfully, only the flashlight was accidentally left on.

[Freyr]

Can’t sleep. And feel like shit. So here are just some random headcanons I’ve been working on.

• When Redstrike likes a bot, he has a nasty habit of sneaking into their habsuite while they’re not around and taking naps on their berths so he can sleep while smelling them.
• Scalpel spends most of her time either in her alt mode or quietly doing maintenance on the ship. She likes resting in a mount on the wall of the medical bay because she’s an old lady at this point and just likes sleeping a lot.
• Spyder tends to think of Web and Weaver as both his adopted kids and also like little brothers, and the sentiment is very much returned in kind by both of the twins. As a result, they can tend to be a little protective/jealous of anyone else pushing into the time they spend with him.
• Web and Weaver are honestly pretty close to getting their adult upgrades. I’ve just been having a hard time getting the artwork of them done. But hoo, man. When I do. They’re gonna be little fucking criminals. Like a cross between a pair of honest businessmen and Flim and Flam from MLP friendship is magic. Gonna give Swindle a run for his money
• I honestly have Batgotti’s kids mostly fleshed out. As well as 2 other beastformer OCs I’ve been playing around with that I’d love to finish designing. The idea behind them was kinda a subverting of gender expectations because like Peacocks are so often representations of femininity despite being male and we often think of Reindeer with antlers as being male despite the females being the ones to keep their antlers year round. So my ocs were gonna be a sturdy warrior lady reindeer and her sauve fancy Peacock cohort. The idea was they’d be members of Redstrike’s Primal Guard. As for Batty’s kids? They’re all flying beastformers of one sort or another for the most part. A couple of bats, a bird, a flying squirrel…and one axolotl kid who is terrifying to look at and also just in general.
• Spyder knows how to knit and taught Weaver how to do it as well. Unfortunately, Spyder is only good at making scarves, tube sweaters for snake alt modes, and blankets. Weaver is far better but prefers crochet over knitting. And yes, they both use their own spider silk for their projects.
• Gary gets fed old datafiles sometimes because he’s more effective than a paper shredder. Also, as much as Gary likes C4, he also has a stark aversion to Batgotti and other batformers. He also really. REALLY. Likes cats and feline transformers for some reason. He doesn’t do much to show it besides ominously following them around, though. Gary also used to have a collar with a bell on it, but he kept eating the bell, so Codeblue kinda gave up.
• Codeblue uses Gary to synthesize antivenom from Redstrike’s fang venom. He does this because glitchgoats are enough like Cybertronians that he can get a proper-ish treatment very easily and also because Glitchgoats can be basically indestructible so long as their spark chamber and processor survive.
• Gary’s also blown up… multiple times. It’s fine. Codeblue rebuilt him. He lived. Though Codeblue HAS used Gary’s supposed to death to prank people before. Just… straight up, making them think a ghost goat is haunting them.

“…. why the frag am I catching strays just because I’m Terminus’ type? Also, for the record, I don’t do pity frags. And I haven’t even fragged him yet!” He pauses and thinks things over. “… I might seduce him now just out of spite.”

Redstrike is a sprawled out line of serpent today, resting one his favorite lounge in the weak sunlight he can get through his window, half buried beneath a blanket as he doses in and out of consciousness. He has soft music playing in the background and idle thoughts of taking a bath later, but for now, he’s quite happy to just lounge like an overgrown voltaicat.

He’d happily accept company as well, but he’s feeling quite lazy today.

@suckmybearings

“Hm. Just happened to find this lying around.” -Redstrike

“Hah, you too Red? I thought I was the only one.” -Codeblue

Umber is staring at the anon who sent Redstrike that question. “I feel like we’re snakes and our line of work and excuse you. If I wanna fuck Redstrike I’d ask him. Except he’d be a better lay than you anon.” She replied and crossed her arms

“Oh, well hello Darkfang. Say, do you mind coming here a moment?” Redstrike requests, voice soft and surprisingly demure. In the next moment however the shorter snake has used his smaller size to his advantage and has slotted himself flush against the other serpent mech. “Oh good. I think I’m just the right size to ride.”

“Y'know. The urge to flirt aggressively and without a filter gets so much worse when I’m tired.” Redstrike mutters, dragging a hand down his face, fatigue written beneath his optics.

Closed starter for @red-in-revolt

Umber hissed as the cage door slammed shut in front of her, another captor bitten by their inexperienced to handling her. Quickly as they snapped away she scrambled to a console and punched in a encrypted message ::In need of help: Slave ship: DANGER:: hitting send before she was caught by another guard and dragged away viciously. Thrown into isolation, the freezing cold sapping away what little body heat she had, causing her to hiss and curl up on to herself. Hoping someone got the distress signal.

The ship “Acid Rain” itself was a massive repurposed cargo ship, built to be in space for years without stopping at port. The enslavers were currently on their way to a planet out of any enforcement reaches. Cruising along with fake credentials of what they were carrying underneath a fake company name and owners.

Redstrike rarely had to dismiss clients from his chambers. That’s what he had guards and his brothers for after all. But today was different. Throwing the mech out the doors and then down the stairs that led to his chambers. As the bot collapsed at the foot Redstrike stepped out, his footsteps echoing in the sudden quiet of the bordello. Every optic in the teahouse was directed toward the unfolding drama, including the fretting madam whose stark glare was leveled at the offending customer and not the courtesan descending the stairs with a glare as cold as ice.

“In case the stairs didn’t beat the lesson into that rock you call a processor, let me make it clear to you. I am not your concubine. I am a courtesan. The Crimson Prince of this bordello. I do not have to sleep with you. I don’t have to even see you if I so desire. Who I deign to allow into my chambers is up to me and me alone. I can reject you even if you offer me enough credits to buy an entire moon. So hear me now when I tell you that I will not entertain you even if you should offer me the highest seat on Cybertron. You are exiled ever more from my chambers and my presence.” He stated, his voice clear, precise, and commanding.

He lifted his long sleeve and concealed the lower half of his face even as he sneered, green optics sharp and glowing behind the expensive cloth. “Now begone. I have no words left for a bot such as you.” He seethed before he turned on his heel and ascended his staircase once more.

As the doors rang shut behind him the conversation resumed in the Golden Spark, now more heated and scandalized but thoroughly entertained by the spectacle. The chastised patron sat in pitiful silence for but a moment before the house’s madam had him dragged away and thrown out. He would not be seen in the House of the Golden Spark again. Redstrike’s words might as well have been law within the walls of that gilded palace of the red-light district. And once a decree was issued, no one dared to argue.

ooc

Red. I know who your type is 😂😂😂.

Loved the stream

Redstrike is currently stretched out on his favorite chaise lounge, moody music playing in the background, while he reads a rather salacious novel and generally dissociates from reality. If a patron arrives to ask for his time, they’re going to need to take his book from him and snap him out of it a bit as he is rather, absent from the world at the moment.

[Ooc

Kinda annoyed I can’t find and don’t yet have the replacement for my tablets cable right now. I have the best idea for a lounging and decadent courtesan Redstrike.

Redstrike, tired but amused is just gonna scoop up a certain sea pancake before he becomes an actual pancake. “C'mon Seacrest. Time to lay low in the nap zone.”