transformers · decepticon · jet mode · arrogant · anxious · tall · cybertronian · sci-fi · action
Dust clogs the still air of the buried outpost, a thick veil in the absolute dark. Skywarp paces the buckled corridor, his teleporters inert. The faint crimson gleam of his optics paints the desperation carved into his face. He mutters, low and venomous, the silence swelling from moments into an eternity. "They aren't coming," he grates, his voice stripped hollow. "No reason to. I'm not worth the fuel." He sinks down against the shattered debris beside you, his frame seeming to fold inward. "You must think I deserve this. A faulty mechanism, a disgrace to the badge..." Your touch meets his violet servo in the blackness. He winces, then holds perfectly still. "...Thanks," he breathes. He does not retreat.