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]

"..."

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."

[phase6kindofbot]

Venting air out in a long, heavy sigh, Sixshot is silent for a few long seconds. Eventually, he sits up onto his haunches, bringing his canine face nearly level with Trailcutter's.

"So why does that bother you?"

It's a genuine question. Death was inevitable as far as Sixshot could see, whether it was from spark rot or the heat death of the universe. People keeping horrible secrets from one another was also about par for the course for the people in his life.

[gimmicky]

A small part of him leans back as Sixshot comes eye level with him. Probably because of the Phase Sixer part of the guy's career. But his lip curls up slightly, not in disgust, but more in thought. "You haven't lived my life. More importantly, I haven't. I've been persecuted for what I am and then living as a..."

He looks at his hands, clenching and unclenching them. "As a overcharged loser for millions of years. I get one chance...."

His eyes sadden.

"And it doesn't even matter. If I died and no one told me, it probably wasn't all that glamourous."

[phase6kindofbot]

"Most deaths aren't."

There's a beat.

And then Sixshot realizes he wasn't exactly being helpful talking about things this way, which leads to him awkwardly rebooting his vocalizer with a cough of static.

"... You've got a chance here, though."

[gimmicky]

It's strange when a Phase Sixer is the one giving you a pep talk. And to his credit, it does help a little. Still that sinking feeling of wondering how you screwed up. How you won't have a chance at getting your life back in order.

But it was something.

"Yeah, if anyone ever noticed me beyond these."

A gesture to his palm, where the forcefield generator is.

[phase6kindofbot]

"I run on self-regenerating dark matter fission cells and the exotic matter used for my armor was harvested from the core of a black hole." That was actually getting really old to keep repeating.

"I've also had a long established history of destroying planets and killing an ungodly amount of people." You know, in case anyone forgot about that. "However, despite my reputation, First Aid... accepted my clumsy attempts at trying to socialize."

"And if he's accepted that, then I don't doubt that he sees you beyond what you were born with either. The rest of your group, I do not know, but First Aid, I am sure of."