shitposting rave 4: (almost) anything goes

Do you want some??

 

I hardly taste anything I consume, it would be of no importance whether what I eat is a treat or scraps.

 

You... don't taste?

-Distress wings!-

 

I bet you can purr if you practice! -Purrs more- See? -thinks- Can you purr things Out of existence?

 

Not a lot. I do not require taste for my task, it is mainly a means of identifying the chemical makeup of something to determine its nutritional value or toxicity. Neither of which are relevant to me.

[He smiles lightly and attempts purring again.]
Perhaps. Perhaps you can do that too.

 

It's pleasant, though. Usually!

 

Yeah that... sound about right.

 

-noof encouragingly- You think!? -purrs harder, dimming nearby lights in the process-

 

I assume it is. This changes little.

[He pets the kitten.]
I do. You are already making great progress with mastering your powers.

 

"A bit pissy. Got in a fight with another Bill and it escalated, got turned into solid gold for a bit so I have to wait THAT out." He rolls his eye. "Sure, it's only a few hours until that wears off, but I've got a fist with his name on it when it does!" Temper, Bill. Temper.

 

Solid? That's got to be a mess, even if you don't work quite like us. Good luck with your fight, though.

 

(Ilma is huddled under a mid-blue blanket cloak. It is the same colour as her eyes. That's important. That's her colour. The blanket cloak is big enough to trail behind her, although she feels very small right now.)
(But she's back to taking in her surroundings. She observes Vector Prime closely. He (She? They? Who knows with the robots, sometimes) reminds her of Leon, a little bit.)

 

[Vector Prime is a dashing specimen of Cybertronian life, even if his construction would look rather archaic to a modern transformer! He has carefully transferred @Hey You to only be held in one hand, so he has the other free should something happen. He also has not noticed where Ilma is looking, because she is fairly tiny compared to a seventy-foot-tall robot.]

 

(Ilma is, indeed, not even a tenth of Vector Prime's size, and would wonder if he's not closer to a Denizen than a Player if she were farther along on her timeline! But this Ilma doesn't know about Denizens yet, and is still very shocked by all the bombs that exploded behind her earlier, and because she failed.)

(She plops down on the ground and starts sobbing again. Not much of a fairy hero at the moment.)

 

(Berit hovers nervously nearby, wanting to be helpful but not wanting to actually come too close to or touch Ilma, in case it upsets her.)

Are .. are you alright?

 

...No.

 

Do your legs hurt? I'm no healer by trade, but I can do a little for them.. if you want.

 

What...?
Oh... Don't feel it. Just shrapnel...

I... I...

 

Are you going to DIE?

 

(There is probably a helpful thing to say here, but Berit does not know it. Instead she just continues to look at Ilma in silent alarm.)