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Hallooo:3

Hellooooo right back atcha! :3 How ya doin’? Ya vibin’? Ya hydrated? Ya emotionally stable??

No? That’s fine. Same.

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Any thoughts on seekers? certain ones or the entire group-?

Seekers? Oh, you mean the winged chaos gremlins of Cybertron? Yeah, I’ve got thoughts.

First off, as a group, seekers are a lot. Fast, flashy, dramatic as all hell— like, I swear it’s in their programming to strike a pose every time they land. If they’re not smugly looking down at you from a ledge, are they really even seekers?

Now, as for certain ones…

Starscream? Oh, buddy, where do I even begin? If backstabbing was an Olympic sport, he’d have gold medals hanging off his wings. But hey, credit where it’s due— he’s a survivor. Probably the luckiest mech alive, considering how many times he should’ve been scrapped by now.

Thundercracker? Surprisingly chill and quiet for a seeker. Loves his dog… 10/10, would support his creative endeavors.

Skywarp? Absolute menace. There is no force in the universe more dangerous than a prankster with teleportation powers. If he ever walks into my bar, I’m locking everything down, in fact, I’ll bolt everything down.

Slipstream? Sharp, smart, and probably the only seeker who wouldn’t immediately start a bar fight. I respect that level of control, Primus knows I don’t even come close to that.

And of course Misfire… I’d rather not actually—

So yeah, seekers? They’re fun… if you like living in a constant state of panic.

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Swerve.... Fix me up the best energex you got. We'd hate to have everyone know how insecure you are, now wouldn't we?

Plus, I'm getting hungry. So a few memories would serve as the best treat right now.. I can just taste your sin already..

@sunders-holding-chamber

Oh. Ohhh. Nope. NOPE. BIG OL’ NOPE— I AM CLOSING UP SHOP, BAR’S DONE, EVERYONE GO HOME.

Listen, Sunder, buddy— wait, no, not buddy— let’s get one thing straight: I may be a lot of things. A talker? Yep. A bartender? Obviously. A guy who makes questionable life choices? You bet. But feeding you my memories on a silver platter? Ohhh, no, no, no. That’s where I draw the line.

And let’s be extra clear— I am not insecure! I am a perfectly confident mech with zero unresolved issues! …Okay, maybe a few, but guess what? You don’t get to taste them like some kind of nightmare fueled gourmet chef!

So here’s what’s gonna happen: You’re gonna take your creepy energy and leave, and I’m gonna pretend this conversation never happened. Sound good? No? Don’t care. Security— wait, I don’t have security— uhhh, Magnus!

[The turbofox only chitters, refusing to move]

You are no help, buddy…

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*gives you a turbofox and runs away. it has a collar with the name 'Magnus'*

HOLD ON A MOMENT I’M NOT MENTALLY PREPARED FOR THIS?

[Swerve exvents slowly before looking at the turbofox]

…Well, I can’t say I hate this turn of events. Please don’t bite me—

[Swerve kneals down to get a better look, ruffling its cheeks before he spots the collar]

MAGNUS?! Oh, this is a beautiful dream come true. I can’t wait to introduce you to Ultra Magnus and watch his whole life flash before his optics. Welcome to the crew, little buddy. Speaking of which I should introduce you to the others, they’ll love your spikey aft!

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What do ya think of Turbofoxes? like turbofoxes who were bred by cybertronians to be tamer not the feral/wild ones or the ones like the "pet"-

Look, I know some mechs don’t get the hype, but turbofoxes? Adorable. Fast, smart, absolute little menaces in the best way possible. The wild ones? Yeah, sure, they’ll steal your energon rations and probably laugh about it. But the domesticated ones? The ones bred to be tamer? Still little troublemakers, just with better manners(mostly).

Like, imagine this, you walk into my bar, sit down, and bam! There’s a turbofox curled up on the counter, watching your every move like it’s silently judging your life choices. Which, let’s be real, it probably is. But that’s part of the charm! They’re like tiny, spikey security systems with attitude.

And if you’re talking about the ones kept as actual pets? Even better. I’ve heard some mechs train them to fetch tools, deliver messages, or even help with repairs. That’s some next level turbofox innovation, and I respect it.

So yeah, 10/10, turbofoxes are top tier creatures. Would I own one? Absolutely. Would I regret it instantly when it starts stealing my tools? Also absolutely. I’d probably name it something like Mayhem or Gex— imagine how funny it would be if I named it Magnus!

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Sooooo mini mannnn what's ur type? :3 asking for a friend-

Oh ho, trying to get the inside scoop on my type Alright, alright, l'll bite.

My type? Simple. Someone who appreciates good conversation, great drinks, and doesn't mind when I go on a ten minute tangent about the finer points of Cybertronian metallurgy. Bonus points if they're taller than me— which, let's be real, is almost everyone— because then I get to make adorable height difference jokes.

Oh and they gotta have a sense of humor. If you can't laugh at my very excellent jokes, then what are we even doing here? Oh and I like 'em chaotic! Not 'start a bar fight every ten minutes' chaotic but more like 'I'm going to turn this bar upside down literally, every Tuesday' kind of chaotic.

So, yeah! That's the answer! Now, are you really asking, or are you just trying to start drama? Because if it's the latter, I respect that.

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Oh my Primus, it's the tiny bar tender. How's life knowing that you're growth was stunted or... something. I dunno. Got any stories to tell? I am a quite busy mech so do make it quick.

(Omg its the Adam Sandler of transformers hiiii!!!! :D)

Oh, Primus himself, it’s Knockout. The mech who’s so shiny, I can barely look at him without needing sunglasses.

As for my ‘stunted growth’— thanks for the reminder, buddy. Honestly, it’s not so bad being the tiniest bartender on Cybertron. Means I get to dodge the fights, avoid getting stepped on, and still serve the best drinks in the galaxy. And hey, I’m definitely not complaining about the ‘short’ jokes. Keeps life interesting.

But since you’re so busy, let me hit you with a quick story. One time, I had a whole crew of Autobots in here arguing about who had the best alt-mode. The whole place nearly turned into a brawl until I pulled out a drink that’s so potent, it’ll make you forget you’re arguing about cars in the first place. Result? Peace, quiet, and one very confused Knockout wannabe.

And there you have it, a short story from a short mech. Now go flex those shiny wheels of yours somewhere else! I don’t like medics in my bar!

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Weirdest thing that has happened in your bar Swerve?

Weirdest thing that’s happened in my bar? Too much slag happens on the daily for me to properly decide, buddy— er can I call you that? I’m gonna call you that.

But if I had to pick one, I’d say the time a mech walked in, looked around, and said, and I quote, ‘This place is an existential crisis in a drink glass.’ Now, mind you, I was pretty sure the only thing making them existential was the amount of high grade energon they’d already consumed, but hey, who am I to argue with someone’s philosophical meltdown, right?

They spent the next half hour talking about the ‘paradox of choice’ and how the jukebox was some kind of cosmic joke. Meanwhile, I’m trying to keep a straight face while handing them a shot that may or may not have been my most questionable concoction. In the end, they left with a smile, so who’s to say if it was a true existential crisis or just a very, very weird Tuesday?

I’ve had some interesting experiences, this definitely ain’t the weirdest but it’s one I remember pretty well, save for the um… Tarn incident.

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what do you think of the rescue patrol?

Look, I get it, Fixit’s all about doing the right thing—heart of gold, great intentions, the whole deal. But let’s be real, that patrol could use a little more… finesse. You ever see them in action? It’s like watching a bunch of over-caffeinated wrench enthusiasts trying to save the day with all the wrong tools. One’s so scared he can barely stand, one’s on so much WHATEVER it is he’s on that he’s barely conscious, one’s got the biggest stick up his exhaust pipe, and their leader(like any other medic) is NEVER sober, and that’s coming from a guy who runs a bar!

I mean, they try. Gotta give them credit for that. They’re probably the most optimistic bunch out there, even if half the time it’s like a disaster waiting to happen. You want someone to patch things up in a pinch, sure, call them in. But don’t expect a lot of smooth moves—more like a ‘whoops, sorry, did I just knock that building over?’ kind of vibe.

But hey, they mean well. And I respect that. Especially since I can’t even handle a simple ‘rescue operation’ without setting off the fire alarms.

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Going with the frame type questions- What do you think of tank/warclasses and uhmmm shuttles?

Warclasses and shuttles, huh? Oh, you mean the big guns and the ‘let’s get out of here’ vehicles?

Warclasses? Those guys are built for trouble, and I mean that in the worst way possible. I get it, big guns, big armor, lots of LOOK AT ME energy but honestly, do we really need all that firepower? It’s like bringing a sledgehammer to a social event. You’re just going to end up knocking stuff over and ruining the mood. Sure, they’re useful when things go south, but as far as making friends? Let’s just say the party’s gonna be dead before they even show up. Not to mention the amount of war frames I’ve seen get stuck in tight spaces is ridiculous, I can’t take the ragged, rough ‘I’m a big mech’ façade without thinking about it.

And then… shuttles. Most shuttles I’ve met are pretty introverted. They’re quiet, they keep to themselves, but man, when you need to get somewhere quick, you’re glad they’re there. Not the most exciting thing at the party, but they’re reliable! Unlike those tanks, who are probably the last ones you’d want to be stuck on a road trip with. No thanks, I’ll stick to something a little more… fun.

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Swerve the best boi what do you think of Phase sixers?

Swerve the best boi? Oh, you know it. Best boi status confirmed.

Anyway, Phase Sixers, huh? What do I think of them? Well, first of all, they’re a whole bunch of ‘I’m too cool for this’ with a side of ridiculous. Like, they really think they can just wipe out entire populations for kicks and look cool doing it? I mean, sure, if you want to go around looking like you’ve been to a bad paintball match, sure. But seriously— who even needs that level of overkill? What’s the point if you can’t order a drink without sounding like you’re going to tear the universe in half. Honestly, I’ve seen better charm from a rusted out drill tank.

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💍💐

Oh, look at that, Starscream’s sending me flowers! How sweet— wait, wait, NO, I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING! This is a trap, isn’t it? You can’t fool me, you overdramatic, shiny winged drama king.

Nice try, but no dice, unless you can offer me a fancy upgrade to my bar.

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WHO LET YOU HAVE A BLOG??

“WHO LET ME HAVE A BLOG??”

EXCUSE YOU, I LET ME HAVE A BLOG. This is a public service. The universe DESERVES my thoughts, my wisdom, my completely unfiltered stream of consciousness!

Also, technically, no one stopped me, which is basically the same as permission. And if you think about it, isn’t the real question: ‘Why didn’t I have a blog sooner?’ Exactly. Now, sit down, grab a drink, and prepare for some premium content.

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WELCOME TO SWERVING OFF TOPIC! (Yes, that’s the name, no, you can’t change it.)

Alright, listen up, cyber-spectators! This is THE ultimate hotspot for the latest in bar gossip, scientific discoveries (that may or may not be accurate), questionable life advice, and whatever else I feel like typing at 3 AM! You got questions? I got answers! …Or at least long-winded rants that vaguely resemble answers.

But first things first: IMPORTANT GROUND RULES. (Yes, I have rules. Stop laughing.)

1. If you’re here to fight, take it outside— by which I mean literally outside, get out of my bar.

2. No asking for free drinks. I see you. I know who you are.

3. If you send me an ‘ask’ and I turn it into a five-page essay, that’s on you.

4. Yes, I take bribes. No, you don’t get to know what kind. (Surprise me.)

5. Keep your nasty thoughts to yourselves. (Or behind the bar.)

Now, let’s get this show on the road! Hit that shiny little ‘Ask’ button and make some questionable life choices! Or don’t! Either way, I’m still gonna talk.