Goa's perching aside that clearing, down where he'd been last time his CPU went on the fritz... though that didn't look like the case this time. Perhaps a mechano fauve painter from Crystal City would find the view -- the dark violet of Cybertron, held against the orange-gold of unfortunate slag -- enchanting. More likely, however, they would run far away. Goa found it enthralling enough, apparently, as he seemed to be staring out into it with steepled hands. Slipstream takes your hand, squeezing fingers into your palm. "Who knows that would exploit me Gooey?" she asks.