“Again, but make it spookier,” Blades coached. “Try a little louder, and wave your arms.”
First Aid’s helm tilted at him in worried fashion, his visor visible as a glowing blue band through the layers of stitched-together sheets. “What if I’m too scary, though, Blades. I don’t want to really scare anyone.”
“I don’t think there’s any danger of that,” Blades chuckled. First Aid dressed up as a giant ghost tended to be more huggable than horrifying.
“Ok. If you say so,” First Aid said doubtfully, drawing a determined vent of air through his intakes. “WhooOOOoo,” he said firmly, waving his hands this time. Blades stifled a giggle; Aid looked like he was patting invisible mini-bots on the helm.
First Aid huffed, able to feel Blades’ amusement quite clearly through the gestalt bond, and put his hands on his hips. “Maybe I should just hand out candy again; I don’t think I’m really cut out for this.”
“No no,” Blades said hastily, remembering what had happened last time First Aid had had direct contact with trick-or-treaters, many of them in costumes portraying horrifying injuries and mutilated or rotting body parts. “You’re doing great, just exactly scary enough.”
“I am, hm?” First Aid’s voice was sceptical, but Blades felt his warm amusement. Aid raised his arms again and made grabbing motions at Blades, clumping towards him. “WHOOOoooooOOO.”
Blades widened his optics and backed away (but not very fast). “Oh no! I’ve...I’ve created a monster!”
First Aid rather ruined any illusion of monstrosity by giggling as he nabbed Blades by the rotors when the helo turned and pretended to run away. Hot Spot, walking up on them as they tumbled around on the ground, didn’t know what they were laughing about, but joined the wrestle-cuddle pile anyway (they eventually had to call Groove and Streetwise for backup to get them untangled from First Aid’s ghost costume).