ROOOOOBOT PROOOOM

[rodders]

Who: ALL ROBOTS.
Where: THE FORUM
When: RIGHT THE FUCK NOW
What: ROBOT PROM
Warnings: teenagers making out, galvatron doing his thing, a throwdown between first aid and tarn over sixshot. usual prom shit.


ROBOT PROM

the punch has been spiked, the music is whatever they could scrape together, and there’s bleachers to make out behind. takes place OUTSIDE in the forum so there's plenty of space and people can easily crash it.

prom king is optimus prime, prom queen is pipes.

please behave as irresponsibly as you would at real prom.

comment around, mingle, you all know the drill.

Comments

[lifepersists]

It was probably for the best that Rampage was carrying him. Drinking and driving didn't really mix and the last thing First Aid needed was to Scooty Puff Jr. straight into a wall. It was still an odd sensation, his legs dangling in the air and his head swimming, that when Rampage found a good spot and settled down he still felt like he was moving.

He turns, his hands curling around the crab mech's shoulder armor, his weight heavy as he sways in the mech's lap. First Aid feels somewhat ill after that emotional rush and he hiccups, just a few times at first, and then a bunch of small little sounds and jerks.

"You don't keep anything?"

[crabcake]

Rampage isn't sure what to do with his hands as he sits with First Aid draped over him. He awkwardly pats at the small 'Bot's back, probably a little harder than is comforting, but it's not like he's ever done this before. He's usually more about making people feel terrible than trying to make them feel better.

"I don't have anything," he says, stretching out to lean against some rubble, his free hand propped behind his head.

[lifepersists]

First Aid leans against Rampage's chest, his expression saddening again. Sixshot seemed to be the same way, moving through life without any particular attachment to anything. Thinking about Sixshot just made him even sadder.

"I used to have badges. A whole wall of them. Now all I have is my friend's brain."

In his drunkenness he doesn't really get how cryptic that sounded. Instead he lays his head against the mech's chest and vents deep as he listens to his mechanisms, the hum of his spark and power plant.

[crabcake]

Well, that one certainly makes Rampage pause.

"That's... an interesting trade," he says after awhile, sounding a bit confused. What do badges have to do with brains anyway? "If you want to start a new collection I could probably lend you a brain module."

He doesn't really mean it, because ripping out his brain sounds pretty unpleasant, even if he knows it'll grow back, but he's not entirely sure what else to say.

[phase6kindofbot]

First Aid's quiet retreat out of the corner of his optic sends a flicker of worry through Sixshot's spark. But Tarn was still ticked and Tarn had a voice that could kill a lot of people if he made the drunken decision to do so. The young Megatron certainly wouldn't approve.

Priorities set, the Sixer tries to gently flip the DJD commander over onto his belly so that he could pick the smaller mech up by his tank threads, careful not to bite down too hard. Transporting violently aggressive mechs around was nothing new at least.

[lifepersists]

"It's okay." He snorts. Why would he want Rampage's brain?

First Aid quiets again, slowing his own venting and the spinning of his fans so he can listen to Rampage. He traces small, idle circles on the plating beneath his hands, just enjoying the feel of his field against his palm.

"I can hear you. It's the nicest thing I've heard all night."

[crabcake]

Well, he has someone else's brain already for some reason! For all Rampage knows First Aid is collecting them now!

The odd compliment accompanied by the soft touches leaves him feeling flustered and therefore defensive, and he crosses both hands behind his head incredibly casually and looks away before gruffly asking, "Hear me? What's that supposed to mean?"

[sparkwhisperer]

"Yes of course." Tarn scoffs into his own up of engex, subtly rolling his eyes.

"No need to state the obvious. However, the punch is an improvement is it not? Perhaps worth the personal sleight that I seem to have committed against you in being seen in your presence." He drains his first cup easily in one go. "Shame on me."

[lifepersists]

What? What now? What did he just call him?

"Who's the actual coward here?!"

First Aid turns around in his retreat and comes right back over, taking advantage of Sixshot's flipping of the mech so he can kick up some dust and dirt into Tarn's face before the Phase Sixer can lift him. He loses his balance with the kick, wobbles, and lands on his aft.

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn struggles all the while as Sixshot flips him onto his stomach.

The sudden poof of dust that hits him in the face surprises him. He tries to lash while the medic was near but his reaction time is slowed by the effects of the engex. Instead, as Sixshot lifts him gently off the ground by one of his treads, he manages to twist ever so slightly in his grip, swinging his arm at First Aid only to miss completely and punch the sixformer square in the jaw with all of his might.

Realizing what he had done, Tarn’s eye’s widen and tanks turn as he sputters a drunken apology, only to promptly purge half processed engex in his own mask.

[lifepersists]

That's a good question. First Aid doesn't answer right away and instead focuses on his venting, syncing it up with Rampage's own. The crabformer had a much bigger cooling system than him, so it was somewhat of a lost cause.

"Mmm. I can hear your body. All the little moving parts. Tk-tk-tk." He taps his fingers against Rampage's armor in the same pattern of the reverberation of his powerplant. "I can hear your spark."

[crabcake]

Rampage has admittedly spent a lot of time listening to his own internals. There were times when he was ignored for ages by the scientists, left to sit in his cell with nothing but himself to entertain him. The boredom was almost worse than when they did pay attention to him.

He never thought about anybody else listening to his inner workings like that. It's... strange. Oddly intimate. He shifts uncomfortably, but doesn't push First Aid away.

"My spark?" he asks, uncertain. "It sounds... nice?"

[phase6kindofbot]

Sixshot rears back with the unhappiest, pitched canine whine when First Aid stomps back over, pulling Tarn back with him to try and prevent further fighting-

The sudden 'CLONG' of a fist against his jaw nearly makes Sixshot drop Tarn, a startled yip escaping him. Fortunately for the other Decepticon, his friend manages not to, otherwise he'd be face first in even more puke.

"I think," he says gingerly, half muffled by tank treads. "That both of you have drunk enough for tonight."

[lifepersists]

"The nicest thing I've heard all night." First Aid sighs, stilling the tapping against Rampage's plating. "I could fall asleep to that."

And he was definitely mentally exhausted, but not as much physically. He didn't think he could actually sleep until he sobered up a little. It was nice to be laid against a big, warm chest after the night.

"Thanks, by the way."

[tsunclonus]

There are some things Cyclonus would be glad to know he doesn't know if he knew he didn't know them. That is one of them. Please never tell him that, Rodimus.

Cyclonus stares at Rodimus, then stares at his current location near the very edge of the party, then adjusts his brooding posture. Finally he answers, "I heard there would be refreshments."

And Primus knows being stuck on a mostly-dead Cybertron with present company would drive most mechs to drink.

[crabcake]

His spark? His mutant spark? The one that shouldn't exist? Sounds nice?

"...You're imagining things," Rampage says after a moment. One of his hands shifts from behind his head to drape loosely over First Aid.

"For what?" he asks. "I didn't even help you murder anybody."

[scaredybot]

Mayday gives a giggle, more giddy than nervous for once, resting his forehead against Pipes's.

"It feels pretty right."

[lifepersists]

Despite falling heavily on his aft enough it throbs with soreness, the sight of Tarn throwing up in his mask was worth it. First Aid dissolves into sadistic, drunken giggles, because at least if he can laugh at the mech's pain he can forget about his own.

"He can't hold his engex. What a sloppy mess!"

[lifepersists]

"No I'm not!" First Aid sounds so defensive at that accusation, lifting his head. "You helped me, though."

He settles his head back down, nuzzling his mask into Rampage's chest, just enough to bump rather than grind the metal. The hand draped over him feels good, securing, and he really, really needed the comfort.

"I know sparks. Yours is saying, 'I'm very cute.'"

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn barely even hears First Aid over his own spinning fans. He does make a sort of weird, angry gurgling sound as he tamps down another wave of nausea. But, he doesn’t try to swing or kick at the medic


Instead, Tarn just hangs limply in Sixshot’s jaws, trying not to move and agitate the spinning in his processor. Vomit drips steadily from the bottom of his mask onto his chest plate.

[crabcake]

First Aid's denial is fervent enough to make Rampage look down at him in amusement. He quickly looks away again as First Aid nuzzles him, ignoring the flutter in his chest. The medic's next words have him spluttering indignantly.

"That's- that's ridiculous. My spark is not cute." He wants to cross his arms, but there's an Autobot in the way, so he prods at First Aid's side instead. "If it's saying anything, it's a wordless scream of torment."

Gosh.

[phase6kindofbot]

"Uh, well," Sixshot rumbles unhappily. He is very, extremely done with all of this and would like to stop standing in the middle of a roomful of people who knew about his sex life in extreme detail now please.

Please?

"You should go get one of the other medics to look you over," he says to First Aid as he starts dragging Tarn away towards a spot on the outskirts of the party.

[lifepersists]

"Oww." So much prodding, Rampage! Can't you see he's dented up?

First Aid huffs and climbs up the mech's frame until he's face to face with him, then reaches and pats his hands against Rampage's cheeks, threading his fingers between one or two of the horns.

"Do you have a mouth? I've only seen you eat in your ummm... leggy mode."

[crabcake]

It's not his fault First Aid is so delicate!

Rampage stares in bewilderment as he finds himself quite suddenly face-to-face with First Aid, his spark giving a hard pulse as small hands cup his cheeks.

"...define 'mouth'."

[lifepersists]

"You know what a mouth is."

First Aid brushes his fingers lightly over the faceplate, touching gentle and curious.

"Or do you eat somewhere else? Maybe you have a big toothy maw in your stomach."