robothell | ROOOOOBOT PROOOOM

ROOOOOBOT PROOOOM

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.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

"Would you believe you're better at small talk than he was?" June gives him a wry smile, hiding it momentarily in her cup. "It's definitely not a bad thing, being so much like him. I mean -- you're Optimus Prime."

As if that were enough. After all, Optimus always been a symbol, a monolith.

"But you're a little different, too," June goes on, her eyes lighting up. "The more I talk to you, the more I see it. I like it."

"What."

Way to completely put a dent in that theory, Optimus. He could take some social cues, sure, but he would never imagine that he was an expert at small talk. Although the way she treats it as a compliment is...endearing. June had that way about her. She was sincere, and Optimus could certainly appreciate it. Had he'd met her in his world...maybe things would have gone differently.

Which makes him wonder if she is there. Just...not as aware of the Cybertronian species.

"...Your company's been a pleasure to have as well, June. I think you give me a little more credit than I deserve in the small talk area, but it certainly doesn't seem to be a problem around you." Funnily enough. Then again, his conversations with Spike were just as casual. ...Although he shouldn't be making that comparison. Because there was none.

"Have you been faring well here?"

Hey, the intoxication just helps. He's wanted to do something like this for a long time, just never had the... well. Time or lack of reservations. Or anything like that, really. So now, here he is.

Just drunk enough to where the edges of the guilt blur and the world turns fuzzy enough to where he can think maybe, just for a bit, this is how it was before.

"Nope. I'm Roller. Remember? Don't tell me you forgot. 'Cause then I'd have to make sure you remembered, and I'm not sure I know how to do that right now."

He swings his partner again, before once more pulling him in. Up close. Personal.

"I could totally think of something though."

Well, at least something's helping you along Roller, because he's certainly not picking up any clues on his own. And neither were you.

"No, no that's not what I meant--" Although hes swung again before he can make a convincing argument. He doesn't necessarily stop Roller, though (he totally could), letting the big bot lug him around as if he were a handbag. Although his eyes keep wide in almost innocent shock as he's pulled close.

Head tilted up.

"Think of something...like what."

Okay, he's curious now. Roller, you're being awfully coy and sneaky.

"Well, uh. Yeah? I mean. You're great! You're really great! And huge! And you're a good bot!"

There's another pat. This would probably all sound a lot more sincere if he didn't look like he was half-out-of-it. And dangling limply in Grimlock's hold.

He jumps when he hears that voice. Honestly, he didn't expect to be seen, what with all the noise around. He's on edge already, and poor Pipes is the culprit of his shock.

"Wh--" And just like that, he's flattening himself to a wall. "I wasn't doing anything!"

He freezes. He really hadn't expected anyone at all to see him. Not a soul. But there was Trailcutter, yelling at him. He actually loses his grip on the wall, falling into an awkward crouch.

"What--?"

His dumbfounded expression probably speaks volumes.

"What are you talking about?"

He laughs a bit. Honestly. Sure, it's a bit drunk, but hey, it's amusement. The hands on Optimus' move from there to the other bot's waist. His movements slow. Steps making a more rhythmic circle, instead of the fast-paced nonsense of earlier.

"Something... hold still."

Because he's going to lean in. Nothing in his head or his spark is stopping him right now. Just having his partner this close is making his engine hum. All inhibitions thrown out the window. It's suddenly just the two of them.

No guilt. No time gap.

Just... the two of them.

So maybe it doesn't work quite like he wants it to. There's the faceplate and all. But his head turns in just the right way to press a very decisive, very firm kiss to Optimus' faceplate.

You're kind of right there, Kagerou. Who are you expecting to fool. Although is eyes travel as the bot falls from the ceiling, wondering...just what he was trying to accomplish.

"Look, I'm just saying, if you're here to assassinate me, there's way better targets to occupy your time with. No one would even notice for like..weeks."

There's a defeated sigh at that.

Optimus has no idea how to dance. Even Roller drunk is a better dancer than he is, and that's saying something. When the bot's hands go to his waist, his eyes widen slightly more, looking down for one brief moment as he feels those fingers against his sides. He follows along, of course, to the best of his abilities.

But that's not saying much.

Although...Roller's leaning in fairly close now, only a few inches away from each other as the slow dancing continues. His eyes never leaving the blues of his partner's. A part of this was nice, seeing Roller let go of his guilt and be himself. A part he wishes was still sober. But he knows this wouldn't be what a sober Roller would do either, in terms of how he's speaking.

Right?

He doesn't have long to contemplate this--because his partner just pressed his lips to his faceplate. And all he can do is stare wide eyed at the action.

He wishes he weren't drunk either, in some still screaming, still sober part of his mind. The part that would have stopped this immediately. Would have kept this little dance to something light and silly. Something that didn't lead here.

Lead to... him holding Prime as near to him as he would have back then. As if they had literally only been apart a few days instead of however long it had been.

As if he hadn't let him down.

Given that Optimus' faceplate is in the way, the kiss can't last long without being completely ridiculous. There's not much he can do besides press his mouth there, teeth parted. Then hold it a beat or two before he pulls back, though his face doesn't move far.

"... Don't forget me, okay?"

Optimus is dumbfounded by the gesture, completely at a loss of what to do. Intimate acts weren't completely above him, although he never considered himself an option--something in his brain just assumed that no one would look twice at him.

There were other things to do, after all.

But when that kiss is given, his eyes are shot open wide, unable to really process any of this. At least...not now. Maybe after Prom he could discuss this with his friend.

For now....

"I...I won't, Roller. I never--"

His voice drops.

"I never did."

"Er... yeah." His genial expression turns a bit uneasy. Though he holds out a hand in what's meant to be a reassuring sort of gesture. "If we met before, I'm sorry. I don't... there's a memory problem. I'm runnin' into a lot of bots I should know lately."

Though he hopes it's not the case. The poor kid looks dismayed enough without him adding his amnesia problems to the pile.

He does shuffle in beside him, though, arms folded over his chest. "Hey, at least you don't usually get shot at these things," he says. "You got one up on me there."

And there never will be any stopping Ironhide from trying to take Prime's hits. Not while still functions. This bot is too important -- to everyone, not just to him. Ironhide is just a bodyguard.

Expendable, really. And he's all right with that.

"Well, hey, if you're goin' on another field trip, I'm pickin' the driving music." He offers Prime a slight smile, reaching over to thump one of his shoulders with a fist. "Nothin' mopey."

"Woah!"

Pipes takes a step back in turn, holding his hands up to give the jumpy mech space and show he doesn't have any harmful intent.

"It's okay! I didn't think you were!"

He nods slightly and as if on cue, his crown slips down over his eyes.

"Oh!" he squeaks, before shaking his head and taking it off. "Thank you!"

"For, uh. Both! I didn't expect it at all!"

A little awkward small talk is still more than no small talk, Optimus.

June grins and drains her cup, setting it down on the nearest rock or whatever. This city's a dump, sorry OP. "I'll take that as a compliment," she says, her face bright. "And I think you don't give yourself enough credit."

She leans back against the rock, running a hand through her hair. She looks a lot better than a few days ago, because now she's at least had a bath. But her new life on Cybertron has definitely changed her, filed away the softness of suburban life. "I'm doing all right, all things considered, I guess. I'd still kill for food that actually tastes like something...but you can't win them all, right?"

"Our Starscream was a ranked officer. Every major party and function in the faction was obligated to invite him." Sorry to burst your bubble there, Slipstream.

Sixshot puffs and stretches his claws out, adding, "Which isn't to say anyone particularly enjoyed his presence."

At the proffered cup, he looks up at it, then up at her with the vague bemusement of someone used to having delicious treats they couldn't have dangled in front of them.

"I run on fission cells."

When Grimlock sits down right next to him Mayday can't help but squeak. This fellow is... this fellow is rather large! His optics only widen further when Grimlock speaks to him.

"W-wh-wha-what? No! Why would I- Why would there be-! Are there going to be fights here?!"

Because if there are going to be fights, he is so leaving, he is totally not made for fights, not at all.

Mayday's own cheeks start to glow, and he's not sure what to say! So instead of saying anything he just slowly sidles closer to Pipes until their shoulders touch.

And then everyone in the party died from acute weenie poisoning.

"Rodimus," Cyclonus greets. He's generally respectful of the co-captain of the Lost Light - even though he no longer has a ship to be co-captain of - but he must admit to being slightly surprised at being approached by Rodimus at this party.

He hopes Rodimus isn't planning to invite him to another 'interrogation' for some reason. That was really embarrassing for everyone involved.

The idea that Rodimus just wants to socialize with him doesn't immediately occur to him.

Aaaand that was the second time someone's kicked Sixshot. He grunts in vague displeasure, broad, white wings twitching unhappily.

"This is the anti-party corner," he grumbles from the floor, not bothering to look up. "No drunk people allowed."

Cyclonus peers down in surprise as a human settles next to him. While there are some physical similarities, he recognizes that she's not Miranda. It can be hard to tell humans apart, honestly.

"I do not," he answers, somewhat bemused by the question.

"Assassinate...?"

And thus he continues to look completely dumbfounded. Staring up at Trailcutter from his position on the floor, and doing his best to shrink back from him. Just in case.

"I just want out. I didn't even mean to be here."

His hands go for his weapons, regardless. But, given that this stranger doesn't have anything in his hands... Kagerou doesn't pull his blade. Not yet.

"What's happening here? What is all this?"

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 6 of 26

ROOOOOBOT PROOOOM

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

pipes sempai

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject