THIS SKIRT IS SUPPOSED TO BE THIS SHORT W PROWL PLS IM WHEEZING
1). “The skirt is supposed to be this short.”
Due to unfortunate circumstances, Prowl had taken residence on the Lost Light, much to the displeasure to some
(read: all) bots. The two most noticeably bothered were Chromedome and Rodimus.
“I still don’t see why we cant drop him off on the nearest planet and high-tail it away” Rodimus grumbled, spoiler flapping in a pattern (Y/n) recognized as “annoyed” or “im-going-to-throw-a-tantrum-in-about-5-seconds”, neither of which seemed very pleasing at the moment.
“Roddy, Prowl is a guest, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to be here either, the least anyone can do is try to tolerate him” the human sighed, reaching over to gently massage a few of Rodimus’ visible neck cables, drawing a (very) audible purr from said bot as he casts them a thankful look as they shifted around on his shoulder, trying to get closer in order to reach more of the sensitive wires.
“We should totally have a dance-off at Swerves’“ he grumbled out, optics powering down as his engine continuing to rumble in a comforting purr, neither noticing a certain bot lurking around the corner, overhearing their conversation.
Prowl ex-vented harshly as he prepared himself for the quietly judging stares and whispers bound to follow his appearance. Prowl knew that he wasn’t very liked, or respected for that matter, amongst Rodimus’ crew, but he was grateful that the liasion was at least attempting to try and make him feel welcomed, he knew better than to naively assume the rest of the crew hadn’t warned them about his
somewhat admittedly harsh tempter and sharp glossa.
As the bot continued to collect himself, he was not prepared for the scene that greeted his optics. There, in the middle of the bar, cleared of anything that might be considered a hindrance to any dancing mechs, were a handful of figures dancing away, the liason being amongst them.
Prowl was well aware that the human was considered a “young adult” by their standards, but in his optics, they were still a sparkling, and it was this thought that caused him to make a sound similar to clearing his vocalizer before marching towards the lisasons’ still dancing figure, bending down to quietly address them, but not before gathering everybot’s attention.
“May I ask why you’re wearing something considered provocative?” he quietly questioned, earning a bemused glance from a fellow human, one he could only assume to be Rodimus’ holoform, if their earlier conversation laid any weight to this situation.
“Erm, Prowl, I always wear this, I’m not sure why its such a big deal now” the liasion quietly replied, trying very hard to avoid embarrassing anyone present, themselves included.
The mech could only stare in confusion as he continued to stare at the liasion, trying desperately to ignore the smirking Rodimus that stood behind them. Prowl could only give a slow blink and hum as he continued to judge the offending garment.
“Why is it so… short?” he murmured, looking more than a little lost as he turned his gaze to the liasion, hoping for an explanation. “It’s supposed to be this short, its the design and style” the liasion patiently replied, more than ready to turn around and deck Rodimus if he so much as coughed at Prowl’s cluelessness.
With a quiet “I .. see”, Prowl returned to his normal height, giving a brisk nod to the liasion before exiting the bar, trying desperately to ignore the laughter that soon followed his departure.
“May I ask what was with your sudden departure?” Megatron hummed through the comm-link, more than expecting to be greeted with a harsh reply, mildly surprised to be greeted with a somewhat meek reply, “The liaisons outfit was .. concerning .. in the least” was all Prowl managed before being drowned out in Megatrons quiet laughter.
“I can assure you, that is the least concerning thing to happen aboard this vessel where the liason is concerned, just ask Rodimus” he managed to wheeze out, cutting the comm-link and leaving Prowl to process the new information.
“… Rodimus, you are a dead mech walking” Prowl hissed to himself, doorwings flicking in a harsh manner as he could only glare ahead, determined to reach his hab-suite before he strangled the concerning mech and giving a harsh scolding to the liasion.
“Primus give me strength”