#((hew Primus = 'oh Primus' fhfskjghfd))

[x-de-con-struct-ed-x--arch]

@sweet-talkin-gladiator [ x ]

Blinking a few times, Nebulous stares with wide optics as the knife travels closer. Quickly they move to the side, the knife sinking into the wall next to their face, they look at ‘Hide and squint, “Did you just THROW A KNIFE AT ME?”

Huffing, Nebulous runs over, and tackles the weaponsmith to the ground, “Prepare yourself, your spike is COMING OFF.”

Pointing the knife at his face, they grin big. Just when did they dye their dente black?

Ironhide manages to let out a quiet ‘hew Primus’ right before he’s slammed to the ground. He immediately tries to fight back, arms flailing against Nebulous’ frame, only to freeze when he finds himself face to face with the knife. He widens his optics, optic ridges rising up into his crest. Damn.

“Aww, now why would you want to do that?” he asks, returning Nebulous’ grin with one of his own. He squirms a bit. “I thought you liked my spike. It’s definitely one of my best parts.”

Noticing Nebulous’ dentae, Ironhide falls silent, the grin slipping from his face in favor of a confused smile. “Hey, Nebulous?” he says, reaching a servo up to ever-so-carefully try and push the knife away from his face. “What’s up with your dentae? Did you dye them or get a mod or something?”