Before he can react, rainbow blood is streaming from broken vessels, and he’s been thrown clear across the room.
The first reaction is to stare, a rumbling of anger – and then a loud, uncouth WHOOP, bouncing to his pedes with his fists up, still bleeding heavily from his face, grinning wide and mad. His jaw may or may not be dislocated a little bit, bouncing in time with his little boxer’s shuffle.
“You wanna dance?? It’s been ages since I’ve had a proper brawl, dude, just— wait a minute, called upon? Who sent you?“ Another bark of wild laughter, jaw flapping a little harder. ”There’s a fuckin’ LINE for people that wanna see me eat cosmic dirt, what am I even sayin’ – but I haven’t pissed off anybody smart enough to sic a god on me, so c’mon, spill it bro, who did the thing? Do I gotta curse ‘em with booze that tastes like shit?”
The Party God’s bouncing faltered for a moment, confusion filtering into his bruised faceplates. His vessel was specifically chosen because this mortal represented so many pillars of his dominion – addiction, hedonism, self-destruction in the pursuit of thrill.. why would he take umbrage to him?
Dumb Debbie downer had gotten free booze out of the deal, and a radder surrounding for his pad. So what if he fucked his boyfriends, they both had an open-door policy and besides, at his core he could feel that it definitely wasn’t that.
It’s like.. this little knot of resentment, harshing his buzz.
Eh, fuck it, he’s not made for deep thought. Back to bouncing and grinning, swinging a couple mock blows at the stronger beast. “What a fuckin’ tool. M’still gonna give em a curse— but not right now. Right now, m’interested in your interest~”
The flame within the god burns brighter. Words had not yet been devised that could describe his elation at being challenged by his foolish fellow.
Do as you must, wild one! But as long as we are engaged take care not to let your fleeting thoughts stray, lest this spar become your fatal mistake!
The patron of war takes practiced form, charging at the perpetually inebriated one without giving him a moment to reply.
Before he can react, rainbow blood is streaming from broken vessels, and he’s been thrown clear across the room.
The first reaction is to stare, a rumbling of anger – and then a loud, uncouth WHOOP, bouncing to his pedes with his fists up, still bleeding heavily from his face, grinning wide and mad. His jaw may or may not be dislocated a little bit, bouncing in time with his little boxer’s shuffle.
“You wanna dance?? It’s been ages since I’ve had a proper brawl, dude, just— wait a minute, called upon? Who sent you?“ Another bark of wild laughter, jaw flapping a little harder. ”There’s a fuckin’ LINE for people that wanna see me eat cosmic dirt, what am I even sayin’ – but I haven’t pissed off anybody smart enough to sic a god on me, so c’mon, spill it bro, who did the thing? Do I gotta curse ‘em with booze that tastes like shit?”
To curse them would be to curse your favored vessel. My name was not invoked, though your Astrotrain wished for your face to meet with the most powerful of punches. Who better to fulfill such a request?
His face is wearing a similar expression, under the influence not only of the presence of the Party God’s blood on his knuckles, but the thrill of the fight- minor though it may be. Only gods were not immediately felled by his blows.
If it is your wish I may fulfill it with interest.
it’s this weird sort of sweetish spicy-ish sort of.. thing. i dunno, my glossa’s biased to taste it by its organic name
you want me to bring it to you?
If you must.
/there may also be some jellied energon pumpkins hanging on them as garnishes. there is so much spoop in this booze/
*He accepts them through the bridge, running a quick scan on the contents. Apologies, train. Habit. After it comes back clean, he downs half of the glass in one swig.*
Megatron's back up 