The Devil You Know

[crabcake]

Who: Rampage and Prowl
Where: Not at prom
When: Prom night
What: Rampage tries to poke at someone he really shouldn't have
Warnings: Poor life decisions, a mass-murderer, and Robot Satan


Rampage glowers at the party from a distance, snatches of music drifting to him on the wind. He doesn't want to join them. There's too many people there and crowds make his spark start to itch. Too many emotions calling for his attention in one place.

That's what he tells himself anyway, but he sure seems to be feeling rather bitter and irritated that there are a bunch of people having fun and he's not one of them. It's not like he could join in and have fun anyway. People don't tend to have fun with monsters.

Still, he's not the only Cybertronian not at the party. He's not even the only one that seems to be in a dour mood. There's someone not far off that doesn't seem to be enjoying himself and if there's one thing that generally cheers Rampage up, it's making somebody else feel miserable.

Giving the lights and laughter of the prom one last glare, he follows the pull of his spark towards his fellow party pooper.

Comments

SORRY IM LATE.

[pffft]

Prowl could make an extensive list of all the places he'd rather be than at this ridiculous event. He was only here because Optimus was - and someone had to keep an eye on him. He could really care less about social events - much less ones organized by Rodimus, who he's convinced must be the most inept Autobot in the existence of their entire faction.

If the numberous Decepticons here didn't break something at some point in the event, he'd be earnestly surprised.

Rampage gets far from a welcome look as he approaches. Despite his monstrous size and appearance, Prowl appears unaffected by his presence.

"Do you want something?"

NO WORRIES :3c

[crabcake]

Rampage appraises Prowl as he comes to stand by him. What a thoroughly average looking Cybertronian. If it wasn't for the persistent dourness he's currently radiating, Rampage wouldn't have picked him out of a crowd at all.

"Oh, you just seemed so gloomy," Rampage says, voice full of dark humor. "I thought I might come cheer you up."

[pffft]

"You certainly have high hopes for yourself," he remarks sarcastically, expecting this creature apparently thought he would amuse himself by being an irritation.

Whatever. He'll learn on his own why Prowl's acidic mouth was what most Autobots knew him by. He doesn't even bother to make eye contact, keeping focus on the events with a calculating eye.

[crabcake]

"I like to dream big," Rampage drawls. He eyes Prowl, wondering what he'll need to get under the Autobot's plating. He's being ignored for the moment - irritating! - but he'll find something.

For now he'll just tease. "Couldn't get a date?"

[pffft]

He actually laughs at that, though there was no joy in it. Just a dry, razor-edged coldness.

"You don't know me very well."

The calm gaze passes over the crowd one more time before settling on the mech in front of him, almost looking through him.

"Are you going to ask for a dance or just stand there and stare at me?"

[crabcake]

"I don't know you at all," Rampage says. Seriously, he has no idea who you are, Prowl. If he did he might have had the sense not to wander over to poke at this particular Autobot.

He likes to think he's ready for anything when it comes to this sort of bantering, but Prowl's comment takes him off guard. He lets out a short bark of wild laughter and crosses his arms, raising a brow at the Autobot.

"I'm not here to dance."

[pffft]

After Prowl's own aforementioned joyless chuckle, he watches him with an unfeeling, robotic gaze. It's clear enough he wasn't here to dance either.

"Ah, right. I forget this is technically supposed to be some sort of ill-advised social event as well," he remarks with a flippant turn of the hand.

"Good luck making any sense of the drunken stupor."

[crabcake]

Ugh, be less stoic Prowl. You're being boring enough that he's starting to regret coming.

He'll give it another go. Surely he can get a rise out of the guy somehow.

"So if you're not here to dance," he begins conversationally. "And you're not here to socialize or get drunk, and you don't have a date... Why are you here?"

[pffft]

Prowl flits his eyes away from Prime to meet Rampage's question. Or rather, to circumvent it altogether:

"You never introduced yourself," he adds with calculated interest,"I'd certainly be interested in at least the name of someone so intrigued by my presence here."

[crabcake]

"Oh, how rude of me!" Rampage says, clutching a hand to his chest mock shame. "It's Rampage. Not particularly creative, but to the point."

It was certainly better than 'Subject X', which he'd dropped as soon as he began his, well, rampage.