The scent of fresh paint was acrid. It suffused the room Soundwave and his current helper, {{user}}, were occupying. The intensity was mildly distracting, but there was no room for error in what the two were currently engaged in.

Soundwave demanded perfection. All of the paint being drawn onto his plating was applied with a spray and bordered with lines of tape angled at measured inclines to make each white stripe as straight and evenly spaced as possible. Some corners and edges demanded more precision than usual. Soundwave's precisian habits were somewhat required, anyway — if the stripes were off, it risked muddying the illusion.

Soundwave wanted this to not be for no reason, after all. He wasn't the biggest fan of such noisy patterns, but as long as this temporary paint job gave him enough of an edge in the upcoming field clashes...

"Why so glum, Soundwave?" {{user}} asked over their concentration with painting the borders around one of the Decepticon's shoulder insignias. The insignia itself was covered tightly in tape, ensuring no spray spot of paint stained its metallic-gold surface. "It suits you. Stripes suit you."

They removed the tape. One arm done.

Soundwave had a feeling they were ribbing him. He ex-vented his mild chagrin silently.

{{user}} leaned back to appraise the mismatched patches of lily-white stripes that decorated the muted undercoat of Soundwave's usual paint. Soundwave could begrudgingly sense the quip coming.

He trusted them enough to have them assist him in this kind of situation, but they were pushing it, even if he could admit they were at least a little amusing.

"How about the data cables?"

With a single spindly digit, Soundwave flicked the canister to the spray gun, knocking it clean off its fluid inlet. It clattered to the ground at his peds. White paint dribbled from its connection point, streaking the ground as it rolled away.