So InMoNochrome requested another thing~ I was definitely happy to oblige this one. (Also, reviews are loved!) Her request:
InMoNochrome: Chatroulette is somewhat like Skype but with random people you don't know, don't have to video chat but you can. You get a lot of creepers on the site. Anyway, Jazz and Prowl meet in a site like this; Prowl's friends convince him to do it. Jazz just does it for fun, sometimes meeting creepers, sometimes nice characters. Do it for fun just to see the responses gotten. Can mix it up with maybe Prowl a little overcharged. Maybe start as just a text chat switches to video call? Friends fall into recharge, overcharged, while Prowl keeps chatting with random (Jazz) bot. Then Prowl asks to see him so they video chat…
Prowl gave a sour glare at his friends. Why had they convinced him to do this? Well, he knew why, but how? After a moment, he decided it wasn't worth the effort of thinking about it. He rolled his optics as he turned to his laptop.
"Remind me why I'm doing this before I stop," demanded the Praxian grumpily, doorwings twitching down as he logged onto the cursed website.
"It'll be interesting! Come on, just five minutes, please?!" begged a femme Praxian, whose mate nodded in agreement.
Prowl clicked that little button that said "start." He only hoped he didn't get any creepy people to talk to… chat with.
The screen showing his person he would chat with remained blank as an "online" symbol popped up on his screen. For a moment, neither of them typed a word. Eventually though, the pleasant warmth buzzing in the back of his helm pushed him to type something.
/Hi?/ tentatively sent Prowl.
/Hi!/ practically chirped the other. /Call me Jazz! ^_^/
/Can call me Prowl…/ Behind him, Prowl's friends laughed at the ellipsis he'd put.
/You're going to be one of the ones that don't talk much, aren't you?/ sent Jazz.
/Ah, yes; I don't know what to say…/ Thoughts ran through his helm about what he could say, what he didn't want to say, and what he wanted to say. He wanted to say why he was on the site, but he didn't exactly want to offend his friends.
/^_^/ A pause occurred, as if Jazz was struggling for something to say. /Well, feel free to say anything you like, except private stuff, of course./
/Please don't be putting that emoticon every five seconds, then,/ requested Prowl.
/Serious type, aren't you?/
The femmes watching his conversation giggled, saying, "That one's a character already!"
"Oh, be quiet," muttered Prowl, resting his helm on his servo as he thought of what to say.
He sent: /Of course. Life wouldn't be any fun without some seriousness./
/O-kay… you have me confused with that. Explain?/
Prowl could practically see confused optics staring at the screen. He smiled slightly, eager to explain how he thought. His friends had started talking amongst themselves again, leaving him free to not be agitated about them watching him, /Well, I figure if all of life is made of fun, it'd eventually get boring, right?/
/I guess so. A bout of seriousness makes waiting for fun funner, huh?/
It was Prowl's turn to send: /^_^/
Jazz grinned as his emote was turned against him, not that he minded much. It was all in good fun. This mech, Prowl, was proving to be quite entertaining. The mech seemed somewhat shy, Jazz admitted. Perhaps he'd never tried this type of chat before? Jazz decided he'd ask.
Prowl's response: /No, I've never done this before. I barely even chat with my friends like this…/
/You having fun?/ asked Jazz curiously, tilting his helm though nobody could see.
/Sort of./
/Aw, what's that mean? I'm not entertaining enough?/ pouted Jazz, eager for this mech's response.
/My friends are annoying me, but I don't want to tell them to leave. Any suggestions?/ Jazz could practically taste the exasperation in Prowl's words.
/Can you go to another room?/ asked Jazz, biting his lip as he stared at the screen.
/…/
Chuckling, Jazz asked again, /Did you even think of that?/
/…No. Be right back, then./
/K./
Prowl gathered his laptop's power cord, bundling it up as he grabbed the mouse, and then the laptop itself. He turned in his chair, frowning again at his friends, who all appeared passed out either on the floor or some seat.
Wobbly, the Praxian stood up, holding his laptop in his servos as he made his way around his friends. Making it to his berth room, he sighed, setting his laptop on his desk.
/Back,/ he sent.
/Awesome! Now~ Where were we?/
Prowl snickered, feeling a flush creep up on his cheeks as he questioned Jazz about music. He could practically hear Jazz's perkiness in the mech's response. They continued messaging each other back and forth for a few hours, much to Prowl's happiness.
/tired,/ commented Jazz, /but you're too fun to talk to for me to go to bed…/
/Really?/ asked Prowl, surprised at the statement.
/Really,/ confirmed Jazz. /Though I really ought to go to recharge./
/Wait…/ pleaded the Praxian.
/What? -_-' Tired,/ protested the Polyhexian.
/I know; I know; I am too… but… vid chat?/ tentatively asked Prowl, who was nearly vibrating from his nervousness. Jazz took a while to respond, and Prowl thought that perhaps the mech had fallen asleep.
/Sure, I guess…/
Quickly setting up his camera, Prowl initiated the chat.
For once in his adult life, Jazz was nervous. The reason? He was going to vid chat to someone he didn't know. As the vid screen loaded, Jazz twisted his servos against each other. After a few moments, a white and black Praxian appeared on the screen, and Jazz's spark fluttered. A Praxian? So handsome and graceful, at least normally, but no Praxian would willingly talk to a Polyhexian and Kaonite half-breed like him. Jazz silently prayed that the mech wouldn't notice his heritage through the vid screen.
They stayed silent for a moment, each taking in the other's countenance. Finally, Jazz waved shyly, ducking his helm. "Hi, Prowl," he murmured, lifting his helm only to lower it again at the smile the other wore.
"Hey, Jazz," greeted Prowl, a familiar slur to his voice.
The astonished words escaped Jazz before he could think about them, "Are you drunk?"
Prowl blinked, tilting his helm to the side in some confusion. "Possibly. I did drink some high grade while we were chatting. I do not normally, though. My friends convinced me to."
"The same friends that were annoying you?" asked Jazz, smirking slightly at the other's nod. The Polyhexian laughed, asking Prowl another question, which was answered and something was asked in return. This continued for a while.
When Jazz finally realized what time it was (it being roughly an hour past sunrise), he cursed, "Oh, slag!" Slapping a palm to his face, he told Prowl somewhat urgently, "I'm sorry, but I have to go. If I don't, I could be late for work. And I didn't get any sleep tonight."
"Wait!" interrupted Prowl pleadingly.
"What is it?" asked Jazz, twitching slightly.
"Can we exchange emails, please? I'd love to talk to you again," requested the Praxian, ducking his helm somewhat.
Despite himself, Jazz giggled, "Oh, sure, why not? Here's mine." He rattled his off both out loud and on the chat, Prowl doing the same. They said their goodbyes, staring at the other for a moment before logging off of their respective sides of the chat. Jazz stood up from his chair, one thought of two on the forefront of his processor: he couldn't wait to talk to Prowl again.
