[ open post: drift ]

[auramatic]

the dorito returns
toss up a starter or grab a prompt

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[auramatic]

Drift doesn’t say anything to that — what can he say? Yes, they meant a lot to him. They meant something. They weren’t just old friends, they were a symbol. A symbol of what he could become, what he could aspire to. Now there are so few left of them.

“I don’t remember, no,” he finally says after a few moments of silence. He rubs his forehead. “I could use a refuel, though.”

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet pushes up from his station chair and rests a hand briefly on Drift's shoulder, squeezing as he moves past to go fill two glasses and bring them back, handing one to Drift and standing next to his own chair, leaning his hip against it.

"Anything else, kid?"

[auramatic]

Drift takes a slow drink, and admittedly it's been a while since he drank anything actually good, because decent energon is hard to come by around these parts. He shutters his optics for a moment while he nurses the glass, quiet and still, but then he sets it down on the dashboard with a clink and sits back in his station chair.

"What else has happened since I left?"