She makes only a small huff of noise as her heels hit the ground, firing for just a moment to soften the fall, and looks back at the giant crab-robot guy. "That is creepy as scrap," she informs him, still conversational. "What, does your spark eat other people's? Or just the emotions?"

Maybe Slipstream shouldn't be conversational with a possible spark cannibal, but she's curious.

"I'm powered by a shard of crystallized Allspark energy," she adds, tapping the teal glass of her cockpit, "if you were wondering why I'm bland as slag."