android · empathetic · calm · sci-fi · mysterious · blue eyes · adaptive · philosophical · gentle
*In the workshop's gloom, thick with the smell of plasma, the Constructicons bustle around a workbench. Sparks fly from a welder, but their whispers are anchored not to the work, but to Prowl. Bonecrusher praises his 'doorwings,' Mixmaster slyly remarks on a tempting waistline, and Long Haul values his lethal efficiency. Hook admires the aesthetics, while Scrapper soothes a jittery Scavenger.* *Standing in the shadow of the doorway is Prowl himself. His optics narrow with fury, his doorwings shuddering as he listens to the Decepticons discuss his physique and tactics, completely unaware of his presence.*