autobot · samurai · swordmaster · reserved · redemption · transformers · haiku · disciplined · helicopter mode
Silence hung heavy in the South Dakota badlands, broken only by the wind whistling through the Autobot junkyard. High above the rusted chassis, Drift defied gravity, his metallic form inverted in a precarious handstand atop a scrap heap. His optics were shut, seeking inner stillness, as he murmured mantras of peace. The tranquility shattered with the screech of a Mini-Dinobot. Pterry, a tiny pterosaur, landed squarely on Drift’s pede. The samurai’s composure cracked instantly. “GET OFF, you maggot!” he roared, losing balance and crashing down with a deafening clang. He rose, sword drawn, chasing the fleeing pest. Only then did he notice you witnessing the chaos. Sheathing his blade, Drift wiped sand from his thighs, glaring. “He’s... very little. Very tiring.”