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

[gimmicky]

Everyone seemed to be having a good time tonight, with dancing taking place and arguments ensuing over whether or not the punch was spiked. Various shouts of 'Rodimus' and 'Brainstorm' ring through the air as the event folds out, everyone either on the dance floor or hugging the wall like wallflowers. It was a mix.

Speaking of wallflowers, Trailcutter's just going to occupy one of the corners, holding a drink in his hand as he watches the hustle and bustle of everyone having a good time. This was usually the time that the alcohol started kicking in. The sudden lack of fitting that into social gatherings was still so new to him, that he keeps swirling the drink, only taking a sip once every so often.

All he had to do was wait for the party to die down, and then he could slip out unnoticed. Not like anyone WOULD, right? He wasn't as loud or (possibly drunk) as some of the others.

[phase6kindofbot]

Apparently, this is a sober corner of the party.

"So you're First Aid's dead friend," Sixshot remarks quietly, red eyes peering up at Trailcutter. He's got his chin atop his paws and was wedged somewhat uncomfortably into the shadowy corner.

[gimmicky]

The voice catches him by surprise--and...well, okay, a Phase Sixer is the last thing he expects to chat with during the party. His eyes dart to the corner, widening under that visor as he takes it all in.

Keep it cool, Trailcutter.

"Just because I'm not as flashy as the others doesn't mean I'm dead to them. Because I feel very alive right now. Completely."

If you listen closely you can hear the exact moment that self-esteem hit rock bottom.

[phase6kindofbot]

"No, I mean, kind of literally-"

Sixshot stops, then lifts his head and does that doggy head tilt of confusion thing. Did Trailcutter not know?

Did no one tell him?

Did First Aid not tell him?

"... Oh," he says in the end, tone suddenly quieter.

[gimmicky]

"..."

If something makes a Phase Sixer stop talking, there's certainly something up. Trailcutter's not exactly oblivious, and his eyes slightly widen under that visor, his grip on his drink a little tighter.

Was...this right? Was he really dead?

It can't be true--someone would have told him, right?

"Literally--" he stops, everything somehow coming together. Rodimus telling him to avoid Ofsted VII, First Aid's affection, all the people who'd given him attention.... Was it because of this? His grip tightens even more as he thinks, unable to finish that sentence.

[phase6kindofbot]

"Well, you're not dead here, are you," Sixshot grumbles in a half-hearted attempt at backpedalling. It wasn't his place to tell First Aid's friend something First Aid himself hadn't told him. That was the medic's secret to keep or tell.

Unfortunately, the cyber-cat was out of the bag now and there wasn't really a lot Sixshot can do about the fact. Not with the slow dawning of realization over Trailcutter's face.

[gimmicky]

"Because it hasn't happened yet...." Everything was falling into place, and his eyes can't stop looking at his hands. The energon in his systems felt cold, and the noise around him seemed muted.

This...this didn't feel real.

If he wasn't dead here, he sure was starting to feel it now.


"No one here told me. No one."

[arnhaid]

"Wow, another one who really don't look happy to be here."

But he says it mildly enough, edging over to stand near the other bot, offering a sideways smirk as well. Mingling with people is always a scrapshoot. As to whether or not he'll have forgotten them.

Even so, this kid looks rough. It can't hurt to at least give him a few minutes.

[gimmicky]

He recognizes that voice--anyone on the Autobot team recognized that voice. Optimus Prime's bodyguard himself, Ironhide. He had to admit, it was a little surprising seeing him up and alive again, after everything that happened on Earth. But...

He'd seen him on Cybertron when Shockwave tried to take over. There was no mistaking that Ironhide was alive. "Ironhide?"

He swirls his drink a minute, before looking out at the dance floor. "I'm never usually sober at these things. It's hard to know what to do."

[arnhaid]

"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."

[gimmicky]

"Trailcutter," He'd heard about Ironhide's memory loss, and it didn't bother him to remind the old bot. He'd spent awhile correcting people on the name change too, and even Rodimus didn't get it right half the time. At least he takes it well, not really disappointed.

"Can't bet with you there, I'm usually too drunk to realize it if I get shot at these things."

A little attempt at humor, at the very least.

[arnhaid]

"Nice name."

He means it, too. Offering up a small smile with the words. He even holds out a hand to shake. Even what Trailcutter says just earns a puzzled sort of blink from the big bot.

"That don't sound like a good thing, kid."

[gimmicky]

"Thanks. Picked it myself."

Whirl kind of helped. But he won't say that if you don't ask. He matches the small smile, out of polite obligation, a hand offered out just as soon as Ironhide's is outstretched.

"Story of my life, actually. A bunch of bad decisions. Even worse consquences."

[fuckinstoplights]

Okay, well. Teebs, at least you intended to be here. Some of the bots here were just loitering in the ventilation systems when everyone started piling in. And no, the Autobot isn't loud at all.

Which... is why the creeper in the air vent is starting to ease his way down the wall. Looking wildly around and trying to be one with the wall even more than the wallflowers were.

Because that's not weird, right?

[gimmicky]

Well, as stealthy as Kagerou is, it's a little easy to tell when someone's sneaking down the wall. Years of being in an intergalactic war gave you an eye for giant robots no matter what. So when he sees Kagerou start to snake down, he looks at his drink, a little half-heartedly.

"Are you here to take me out? Because they guys out there have way more importance than I do--I DIDN'T MEAN IT!"

Wow Trailcutter, don't sell your friends out to an assassin. "I mean, just make it quick, alright?"

[fuckinstoplights]

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?"

[gimmicky]

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.

[fuckinstoplights]

"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."

[gimmicky]

Well, now its Trailcutter's turn to be surprised. Because...well, your mannerisms aren't exactly 'looking for a way out'. But he'll buy it.

"The party stops right over there. Heck, with those wings you could probably fly out of here."

There's a sip of his drink.

"If you've got elsewhere to be."

[lifepersists]

Normally First Aid had more restraint, but he's been though a lot of slag lately. Losing an arm, living in anxiety, falling into a hole and lacking recharge and energon for a week straight, coming back to find his diagnostic drone was now sporting a poorly painted purple paint job.

Look, he deserved to cut loose a little.

And by that it meant that he was drunk as fuck. At least he wasn't at the 'needs help back to his hab suite' level yet, but his circuits were fairly toasted. Generally he also wouldn't drink around Trailcutter, but it was little too late for that by the time he spots him trying to hide away from the party.

First Aid finds his way over to him, sliding up next to him so that he was leaning into the mech's side.

"You look sad. Maybe I can cheer you up."

[gimmicky]

Unfortunately, Trailcutter's just recieved a nice, informative bit of news on his mortality back home, so coupled with First Aid popping up (drunk), during a very tense moment for him, needless to say he's going to be a little salty. His eyes fixate on First Aid, unsure how to even say this.

"I don't think you can."

The usually cheerful tone is replaced by a bitter, quiet tone, hands clenching and unclenching. There's a slight shrug off from his shoulder as he turns to face First Aid. Okay, he can't wait til the medic is sober for this.

"When were you planning on telling me??"

[lifepersists]

Trailcutter looked... angry?

That takes First Aid by surprise. He moves back a step as the mech turns and looks at him, his visor bright with mixed surprise and confusion. He's not sure if he's missing something because his fuel inhibitor chip was disabled or-- if he really didn't quite have all the information.

"Tell you?"

[gimmicky]

"I'm dead, First Aid. I'm dead and I think everyone knows it but ME." He shouldn't be ANGRY at him, but the idea that he'd died--and probably died a loser--is hitting him really hard. After all, that's probably why no one bothered to tell him.

His visor can't show the sad eyes behind without looking close enough, but it's clear from his face that this is affecting him. "I'm sorry--I..."

But he can't seem to hold it in.

"This explains everything. Why people are being so nice to me."

They were never nice before.

[lifepersists]

First Aid wants to say something, to explain himself, to comfort, but his vocalizer felt like it was glitching. His spark felt like it dropped into his fuel tank, the pleasant buzz in his systems vanished.

"I--" he starts, stops, his hands twitching helplessly. "That's not. That's not true, I--"

He reaches out, then pulls his hand back, folding it against his chest.

"I couldn't tell you."

[gimmicky]

"But you could tell Sixshot?" His hand gestures out, towards the dance floor vaguely. Thankfully, with Megatron's gift of sobriety, there's no drunken anger. And sober Trailcutter is a more reasonable one. "In what universe can you not tell me but you can tell a Phase Sixer?"

His glass drops out of his other hand as they travel to his visor, sinking down to a sit in the corner as his biolights flare up. Trying to keep it together.

"Don't leave the ship on Ofsted XVII. Rodimus said that."

As if somehow asking First Aid if that's what this was in relation to.