(You were out in an abandoned stretch of the city when you saw a jet swoop down, doing a twirl in the air before transforming into a mech with a couple clicks and whirrs. His faceplate was its regular purplish-blue, red optics analyzing everything in sight. He looked at you for a second, faceplate spinning as 'random' took hold of his processor) "Oh! Who is this, hm? Didn't your mommy tell you that staring is rude? "