(no subject)

[phase6kindofbot]

Who: Sixshot, Tarn and anyone.
Where: Some place!
When: The day after prom!
What: Sixshot trying to deal with the devastating aftermath of the spectacularly disastrous prom party.
Warnings: Awkward teenage super robot drama. Also discussions of sex?


For Tarn

Unfortunately for Sixshot's new found sense of shame, the six-former's sense of obligation was still stronger. It took a bit more motivation than usual to drag himself out of humiliated hiding, but he manages it and arrives a prim ten minutes early to the agreed meeting point.

And then he just sits.

And tries not to think too hard about the upcoming talk, quietly grateful that his canine face wasn't too expressive.

If Tarn tries to kill him today...

Honestly, Tarn wasn't going to kill him today because, frankly, Sixshot wasn't going to let him. He was not going to die being known for what happened last night, so help him Primus.



Open

The giant murderous space dog is attempting a new strategy: being small.

And hiding.

After shoving most of his mass into subspace, Sixshot was quickly being enlightened to the fact that the dead city actually had a surprising amount of hiding places. He'd never though about it before: Phase Sixers didn't hide after all. Ambush tactics were for the weaker.

On the other hand, Phase Sixers also were never trained to deal with social situations gone so awry that they would actually want to hide. Sixshot certainly never was, anyways.

He quietly curses Megatron's short-sightedness because, clearly, this was all his creator's fault, and shuffles deeper into the hole.

To most outsiders, he was barely more than a white nose sticking out of a wall.

Comments

[crabcake]

The trouble with being a spark-possessing individual with a friend who can sense sparks is that there's no way to truly hide.

Rampage slams down in front of Sixshot in a crouch, stirring up a large cloud of dust and rust, having leaped off the top of a building above.

"You feel miserable!" he crows, clearly in a smashing good mood himself.

[system_dp]

Man, she's not even looking for Sixshot. In fact Miria ends up passing by that white nose a few times before she actually stops and looks at it. Shifting her weight from a leg that is damaged as she spends much too long staring at it. It doesn't click for the earth made robot that hey, this is Sixshot.

It's not the right size. So she's just going to reach out and...

Bap.

"Dog, why are you inside a wall?" She asks, lightly patting the nose.

[sparkwhisperer]

This is awful.

It's all Tarn could think as he staggered out of the Decepticon base with the worst hangover of his life. Daylight cuts right through his processor, making his helm ache desperately. Unfortunately for him, he remembers everything that he said and did, the night before, in vivid detail.

Or rather, he remembers the events leading up to his discussion with First Aid. Everything after Sixshot dragged him off is a blur.

What a shameful mess he made of himself. He should know better than to get overcharged and catty like that. He doesn't know how he'll be able to look his fellow Decepticon in the eye after some of the things he said.

Or is he still a Decepticon? Tarn doesn't even know. After all, that bit of detail is what sent him on his spectacular drinking binge to begin with. But really, what does being a Decepticon even mean here? What does it matter?

Eventually Tarn finds himself approaching Sixshot at their designated meeting spot. His steps slow as he risks a glance up at the six changer.

Primus he's never felt so mortified by just looking at someone.

"Sixshot." He clears the static from his throat. "Thank you for seeing me."

For Ratchet

[phase6kindofbot]

First Aid's scent led back to the clinic as it always did. It was bit trickier to track a person down in a small area when they reused the same trails almost every day. With the scent trails always refreshed, it was easier to just retrace their steps and hope that you'd eventually run into them.

Sixshot hovers for a long while outside of the clinic though, uneasy and unsure, walking long winding paths around until he ends up back in front of the building- only to take off again after a moment of forlorn staring.

Was First Aid alright? He was extremely tanked last night, but he hadn't exhibited any signs of energon poisoning.

Would First Aid even want to see him?

It's after his fifth loop that he finally gives in, slowing to a stop and- after a moment of debate- transforming into his root mode. He stands outside the door for another long moment before finally cycling in a vent and cautiously stepping inside.

"First Aid?"