#solusprime

If Solus Prime ever lose her Forge, she could just Ask Smashdown for some Assistance

SURPRISED WHOOP WHOOP

"Put me down!"

Taking a break from dancing she made her way over to her with her nearly empty drink.

“Hey, Steam, I have been thinking about this recently and it has been nagging at me.” She started, swirling what was remaining in the glass she had, “You seem very familiar, in a way that perhaps I had met you before, way back. Maybe that is an odd thing to say…you have always seemed familiar in some way.”

She had just walked off the dancefloor to have a small break, drinking some energon, when Solus had walked up to her. She didn't even really have time to greet the other when she started speaking. It was always a joy to speak with the Prime, however what she was saying started pulling at a small feeling in herself that she really couldn't ignore anymore.

HURT / COMFORT ACTION PROMPTS // @solusprime

DELIRIUM : receiver wakes up to sender’s relief, only for receiver to not believe it’s really sender (that they’re imagining sender or that they don’t think sender would come for them) or that they’re finally safe. 

There had been a fight, a chase, Darkfang chewed more than he could handle. One thing led to another, one against four, or more? Processors, no longer cared, he'd fled at the nearest chance. Not without a scratch or a dent. He'd fought back, left some hanging behind, while the rest, unable to get close, too big, too many blasters pointed at him.

Bounty hunting had it's bad sides, sometimes, it went wrong. A wrong mech, here and there, it only needed one of them to warn the other. To not trust him, to not get fooled by his words or actions, to make them all turn against him.

Here he lay, after a stumble down a hill, and a servo pressed along the scorched hole upon his side. He'd fallen into momentary stasis due to pain, and an unfortunate hit to the helm against a rock in his messy fall. He'd lost them, or perhaps they saw him, while he lay there, thinking he'd gone offline.

Laying, in a tangle of his limbs, and energon leaking out of him. He felt a presence, and servos? His optics flickered, unfocused, and servos patted weakly at the strong frame besides his own. When his optics finally focused, they stared, confused, and conflicted. Not familiar, but, familiar. No? Yes? Not the bad ones, but why would anyone care?

Swats with broom

Ow.

@oneshallstand replied...

Slaps with the Power of the Primes