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

[arnhaid]

Oh. That. Does not look good. Not in any sense of the word. Sort of hard to miss a huge, flying Decepticon with a face like that one. What did he even do, sharpen his teeth?

But launching an attack out of nowhere would be stupid, and too reckless with all the other bots around.

And so, Ironhide just inches forward a bit, keeping an optic on the guy, though it's narrowed and decidedly unfriendly. Despite being fully aware this 'con is huge, more likely a lot stronger than he is, and all those good things.

[deceptionshark]

Does Megatron pay Ironhide the slightest bit of attention?

Yes, actually, Megatron has a talent for noticing people who might want to fight him. The thought cheers him up considerably and he eventually struts over to inspect Ironhide up close. Hopefully Ironhide minds a lot that Megatron is getting right up in his personal space.

"It is a pleasant night tonight, isn't it? Perfect for this little party you autobots have going here." He says in a light, civil tone that carried the barest hint of a challenge. "I find your high-grade a bit weak though. How pitiful."

[arnhaid]

His shoulders stiffen, and he straightens up as much as possible. This guy pings all kinds of wrong signals. Optimus said things were over, sure, and he was going to abide by what his Prime said.

Didn't mean he wasn't going to punch back if tall, grey and sharp-toothed started bouncing heads off the ground.

"Ain't my job to hand out the drinks," he retorts, chin tilting up -- stubborn. "Go talk to whoever threw this thing together if you wanna complain."