ROTB Optimus Prime's Inbox

[incandescent_matrix]

"Let us not waste time better spent elsewhere. Leave your message and we will return to it."

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[incandescent_matrix]

Optimus paused. Something, some half buried impulse, had him make an exaggerated show of considering this with an audible back and forth rumble of his engines. Perhaps simply to amuse Ratchet, perhaps not.

In any case, he said, "If you prefer it that way..." and lowered the boxes carefully to the floor, rearranged them so that he would only carry the two heaviest, and lifted them again. "As my navigator commands."

[botopsy]

He seems to pick up on some kind of vibe Optimus is giving off, if the snort-chuckle that escapes him is any indication. Ratchet takes the lighter crate with a huff.

"Dang right. Do you know your way around enough to get to the medibay from here?"

It belatedly occurs to him he could probably ask Optimus to transform and load him up, but-- eh, nice to have a walk. He doesn't really want Optimus to get the impression of being used as a pack mule.

[incandescent_matrix]

Optimus' finials twitched his satisfaction with Ratchet's response. He might or might not have been tucking that away as a war to make Ratchet laugh as he looked around briefly.

"I could get us most of the way there," he said after a moment's consideration. "After we pass the commissary with the perpetually broken dispenser, I would need assistance."

[botopsy]

"Very good!" he says with a smile. "You're learning your way around the ship quickly! Primus knows I got lost about eighty times when I first got here."

He seems happy enough to follow Optimus, chattering along about all sorts of nonsense as they go.

"...I could fix that dispenser, I bet, or send a complaint about it to Megatron. That sounds more fun, actually!"