Drift's had a drink or two, letting himself loosen up a little more than he's usually prone to. The engex here is basically swill, given the equipment they have, but it's still a step above some of the tankrot they used to brew in the Decepticon ranks. He's hanging by one of the half-crumbled forum walls, hanging back from the crowd a little, but apparently contentedly watching. He glances at Rodimus, optics fuzzy and casting a faint halo of light around them in the cool evening dark.

"Dance?" He smiles slightly. Somehow it seems a little easier than his usual smile. He sets his glass down on the wall, where it'll quickly be forgotten, and holds out a hand. "Yeah, sure. Of course."