A bot of brief speech and briefer forearms.
Pointblank would say that war is hell, if he wasn't a bot of very few words. Words make arguments, and arguments make wars, and he wants no more of those. That isn't to say he's a poor fighter. He just wants a quiet place to sit down with a good datatrack and a glass of frosty energon, without a Decepticon missile spoiling everything, and if he should find himself pounding the ever-loving lock washers out of the shooter of that missile, it isn't because he bears grudges or even out of regret for the waste of a good drink. No, it's just on general principle. Every battle won brings him closer to retirement, which of course is never going to happen in a million years. No hard feelings, though.
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