Bluestreak is a talker. He talks a lot. Any subject, any time of the day, his lips are flapping while his Autobot comrades are rolling their eyes. Could be about things on Earth, could be about things on Cybertron, could be about just about anything, but the point is, y'know, he's talking. Words are coming out of his mouth in a near constant prattling stream. Some think he's vapid, that his mouth just moves a billion times faster than his brain, if his brain is moving at all. Or they imagine that he's a fool who doesn't know when to shut up, that he drones on and on and on and on because maybe he just likes to hear himself speak or something.
His friends realize, however, that his jabbering hides a deeper pain. At the beginning of the war, Bluestreak's home city was totally destroyed by Decepticons. He was the only survivor. It's as if by talking he tries to drown out his own fears and memories somehow. "There's some demons runnin' loose inside that boy," says Hound, "and sometimes I think they grab hold of him and won't let him go." He hated war, he still does, but ever since, he's hated Decepticons even more. It is odd to see a bot of peace so willingly take up arms, but Bluestreak's got a score to settle.
Talk may be cheap, but it keeps him sane.
His alt-mode is a Nissan 280ZX Turbo.