Barricade wasn't exactly thrilled about it himself - Bumblebee got to be a suit of armor, and he was his own fragging hand. Good news was, there was a lot more strength in his arms and hands than one would think, and hopefully that translated over to his weapon form. Whether or not he was mobile in this form remained to be seen, but at present he simply waited for Qilby to get with the program and pick him up.

The resonation, when it happened, was startling and foreign until he managed to catalog it as something more familiar. He'd served as a host before, and those like Frenzy were hardwired to his systems, and even had a physical presence in his own frame. He could monitor everything about the drone when they were connected, and he wasn't as adverse to that sort of proximity. Working alone was better, but if he could think of Qilby as a newly acquired symbiont, all the better.

Once their souls were about as in sync as they were going to be, Barricade's weapon form shifted to fit Qilby's five fingered hand, the armor sliding seamlessly into place. The pressure was just short of being uncomfortably tight, but that sensation went along with Barricade's apprehension about this whole set up. He resisted the feel of Qilby's wavelength against his at first, finally relenting when survival instincts overrode his defenses. Barricade had thousands of years of life behind him, certainly not as many as Qilby, but his age only showed in how long he'd been so angry and bitter and violent.

"I've had passengers before," he said, trying to figure out what sort of vantage point he had here. So far, not much. When Qilby flexed his fingers, he would feel the tension and strength of the claws. "But this is pushing it."

Perhaps half a dozen yards away in the dark passage, something let out a low, guttural growl. All the speculation and curiosity about resonation got shoved to the back burner.

"Claws ought to be sharp enough to do damage," he said hurriedly. "Otherwise try crushing it."