We are a literate, intermediate to advanced AU Transformers RPG Based off of the first season of TFP with dashes of other incarnations sprinkled here or there. Characters from any continuity are welcome however must be restyled to match the TFPrime universe.
Active, with ongoing plotlines, we are always willing to integrate new characters into storylines once incorporated into the setting.
Ravage was fishing for information as much as he was delivering a warning. That, at least, made sense in terms of agendas.
"Only human we have contact with is a Haven resident, an' I trust her s'much as I trust myself," Layby replied. "We've had no contact with any branch of human military, in any capacity, by her or us."
They didn't monitor Cat's online activity, so there was no guarantee that she hadn't been confiding any of the particulars of her unusual living situation with someone in a chatroom. She could be keeping a blog with daily breakdowns of activity in Haven. She might have a webpage of photographs of them, with Haven's co-ordinates in big green numbers across the top. No guarantees that any of that wasn't the case, but Layby trusted her as implicitly as he'd told Ravage. Young she may be, but Cat had a smart and sensible head on her shoulders.
One blunt finger had begun rubbing over a thick weld on his gauntlet as his mind wandered, percolating a niggle that had been nagging since Ravage started talking about MECH. Layby cycled a breath, the sound acting as a filler before ventured, "From what you've said, it sounds as though they gotten confident with our tech from a Cybertronian. Have they managed to snatch mecha or study, or is there a suspicion that someone's... collaborating."
Ravage's gaze drifted to the motion of Layby's hand as the big mech spoke. One ear angled as if to listen to the soft rasp of metal on metal as the mech rubbed that spot on his plating. The Decepticon's tail swished gently along the floor once again.
"Ah," the cat said. "The human female you keep here among you. I would not be worried about her going to them as much as my concerns lay on someone getting to her at some point. She may not even know she has been studied or targeted by them."
"They managed to catch one of ours a while back," Ravage said. He was not concerned about relaying Breakdown's capture and subsequent escape. He knew of the Autobot involvement, and he knew that when that sort of thing happened, rumors spread everywhere on both sides. Easier to simply state some of the facts as as part of this warning.
"He escaped alive, missing some parts of himself, but he survived. Unfortunately, that situation no doubt gave them them some of the technology that they can crudely reverse engineer. How long it takes them to learn to use it? Who knows. If you think about how far they have advanced as a species in a short time..."
A slight lift of the dark mech's shoulders. "When I say crudely, of course I do not mean ineffectively. As far as collaborators, I do not have any information on that as of yet. It is possible. The more time passes, I would say even likely."
Though Ravage picked his details carefully, treading around the explicit truth with as much skill and grace as his pedes carried his frame, what he said was quite clear. Layby's engine rumbled a low, rough sound, optics darkening as his mind drifted.
The Cybertronians here on Earth were enmeshed with the native populous, both openly and in digital disguise. There were interests and desires on both sides (it sounded like there was quite the black market on the Nemesis for Earth entertainment paraphernalia), and it was not a stretch to imagine that there could be more nefarious negotiations and trades taking place. Power was power, in any culture, and greed was greed.
Down to the quantum oscillations of his spark, Layby was a tolerant creature, with serene patience and a long flash-to-bang time. One of the very few things in the 'verse that would incite his seldom-seen ire was collaborators and traitors. He'd had the world as he knew it flipped many times before by self-invested mecha, and known too many sold out straight into the Well. Neutrals were arguably a selfish non-faction, but that didn't mean actively getting others killed or worse for their own gain.
Layby's attention shifted back to Ravage, and he sighed out a thick pulse of heat from deep in his systems. The look he gave the cassette was almost apologetic. "Not to put you someplace you don't wanna be, but I gotta ask: do the Autobots know about all this?"
Last Edit: Aug 16, 2014 10:50:23 GMT -5 by Deleted
Ravage's ears twitched at the soft rumble, but he understood it. It was not directed at him, it was simply inner contemplation and a bit of frustration, perhaps. Layby was who he was, his task and time settled on him with a cloak that was comparable to Ravage's own, perhaps. They had their concerns, both of them.
The cat's red optics shuttered and then he silently lifted a paw. The gesture seemed oddly out of place on that feline frame. It was very humanoid, as if the Decepticon was an accountant on one side of a desk, reciting facts and figures, musing them over before responding with the correct tally.
"The question is fine," Ravage reassured the mech. It was. It was simply a question and a fair one. In fact, it was one he would have expected, and he was not offended in the slightest. He saved his offense for the right times it was needed. "As for the Autobots, how much they know? I wish I had a more tangible answer myself. They do know of the situation with our captured mech, they were there themselves. Some of them may have first hand knowledge of a different sort."
"The truth stands at perhaps more than I do, perhaps less," he murmured. His tail swished back and forth. "I think we are all respectively still learning the behaviors and desires of these humans. Their plans and directions change on what we would consider a whim based off of what they come in contact with. That is the part that makes it incredibly difficult."
Layby nodded in full agreement. "Aye. They pass on so fast they feel a need'ta cram as much into their lives as possible. So they don't miss out on something better."
He smiled a little, and it was equal parts pleasure and exasperation. A common arrangement of his faceplates when it came to Cat. Cat breaking the corridor speed limit on her quad ('cause that only applies to alt. modes!); Cat with a brush stuck in her hair swearing like something in the kitchen was on fire; something in Cat's kitchen actually on fire, because apparently you could heat up sustenance too much...
Yeah. The particular smile that Cat evoked was consistent enough to be patented.
"We got a native living with us," Layby said, tipping a thumb out towards the Atrium, "and I still struggle some cycles to get my processor 'round how she thinks."
The tactical part of his coding itched at the thought of that oft-baffling unpredictability turned violent.
There were very many miles of harsh, empty terrain surrounding Haven. The mine's walls were thick and solid within the mountain, and the stone was too dense for human technology to tunnel through without being detected. Unless MECH had access to some extremely advanced (or alien...) stealth technology, the only way they would get into Haven was if they were brought.
Layby hadn't anticipated needing to treat humans as any real threat. Ravage's presence here, and the fact that mecha had already been snatched, gave him good cause to begin re-evaluating security within the base.
Might be worth speaking to Red Alert. Damn mech was finding hairline cracks in security all over the place...
He straightened up on his pedes, weight shifting forward from the counter with decisiveness.
"Any concrete details how they've been taking people down?" Layby asked. "Are they swarming, using some kind of weapon we ain't seen before, or are they just straight devious and using traps?"
Last Edit: Aug 16, 2014 10:51:52 GMT -5 by Deleted
There was a light sweep once more of the Decepticon's tail across the floor of the med-bay. The dark ears cupped and lifted again; Ravage's focus was on the mech in front of him. The angular, feline face didn't express emotions the same way the mech's did. To Ravage, most mechs felt exaggerated in expression. He himself was a creature of subtle quiet motion; a tilt of his head, a slight gap of his jaws with amusement, his ears flattening against his head to show displeasure or when he was dwelling on a thought.
Soundwave though, Soundwave was like him. Inscrutable at times, and one of the few mechs that whispered emotion instead of shouting it. Perhaps that was why their partnership had evolved easily over the eons, to the point where all Soundwave had to do was nod in a direction and Ravage was already fully aware of what the plan was and how they needed to execute it.
At Layby's comment about how humans lived their lives, he chuckled softly, the sound rumbling out of the smooth curves of his chest. "Interesting perspective on the situation," he agreed. "I suppose I had not thought of that. It is almost frantic, that need to do something, make something and- ah, do whatever else they do."
"I suppose if you remain here throughout her entire lifespan and then observe a few dozen lifetimes of those that come after, you will perhaps know how they think," Ravage agreed. "For now, all I can truly say is that they are incredibly erratic between individuals in some ways and somewhat predictable in others. What they try today will not be what they try tomorrow."
He lifted his muzzle and shook his head slightly; conveying amusement for a brief moment before he lowered his nose.
"At the moment, we know that they have been hunting in groups, with weaponry. Their first capture was rather crude, but their attempted use of Breakdown to set up a trap seemed to be well-thought out and pre-planned. I suppose I would put nothing past them. Their weapons seem to be getting more appropriate for the circumstances and the mechs they pinpoint. Their attempts at strike first and in the open may change to lure and entrapment, the more they learn about us and our responses as well. Unfortunately, the safest approach right now is to consider it all a possiblity."
The dark, smooth shoulders lifted in a feline shrug once more and then he "As of now, their weapons are rather straightforward, and seem to be things that they can get from human military. Which leads me to believe they are in deep in the black market from other countries. The amount of skilled humans they seem to employ as well - ah, the expense alone makes me wonder where their funding is coming from. So far, I have been unable to trace that- they have been good at covering electronic tracks. This leads me to believe they have an excellent team of hackers doing double duty as researchers and even perhaps weapons developers."
A huff of air escaped Ravage's intakes. His jaws gaped open slightly, his fangs caught the light and gleamed. "Hmph. Excellent as far as human hackers, anyway."
Layby had been sparked and worked as a support mech, so by trade he was coding literate. He'd had to unfrag or straight build, both hardware and software, more automated turrets, power generators and system-wide weaponry in tankformers more than he cared to count.
Hacking was something beyond him, though. Datastreams were slippery at the best of times, and the skill for seeing traps and the tell-tale marks of alteration had to be so refined as to be instinctual. Layby could flag up points in a system that looked 'off', but he couldn't dig for dirt. Neither could Cleaver, nor any of the mecha here so far as he knew. Cat was, oddly, the best hacker in Haven.
MECH presented a threat to all Cybertronians, aligned and Neutral alike. Unfortunately, there was nothing the Neutrals could do to help, only be grateful for the warning and be on alert.
"Anyone managed to back-track them, yet?" he asked, though he didn't anticipate a particularly detailed answer. Information was valuable, and he already felt a kind of debt building from what Ravage had come here to divulge thus far.
The cat flicked his tail back and forth, the tip coming up over his forepaws before it settled once again.
"That I unfortunately cannot answer at this time," Ravage murmured finally.
Also true, he could not. Had he been working on this situation? Yes, he had. He had set out to track and trail other things, other issues that were nagging at him lately. The one that was bothering him most, that ugly, loss of Decepticon patrols. Fairwinds had sent that problem to the forefront, but he kept those concerns entirely to himself.
However, with the human factor involved at this base, Ravage felt there were no specifics he could offer to the mech, nor would he. He looked up at the larger mech and shook his head a bit, lowering his muzzle down past the smooth curves of his shoulder. "Again, I can only give you a warning, and a concern, and hope that it does not become an issue for you and yours."
"Thank yeh, for that," Layby murmured, entirely sincere. That particular arrangement of words had also been growled, spat and shouted over the centuries, it wasn't often that he thanked an aligned mecha in that tone.
The Decepticon had little tactical reason to pass on this information, and wasn't alluding to this being a carefully delivered favour that would be called upon in future. Preserving the lives of Cybertronians seemed more an Autobot concern, and though Ravage phrased this warning as the preservation of their technology so that MECH could not become a more sophisticated and dangerous threat, it resonated more strongly for coming from a purple sigil.
Layby pursed his lip plates for a moment. "Can't speak for anyone else here," he began, his voice low and slow from careful selection of each word, not hesitation. "But if I can do anything, just say. Reckon this is one of the handful of concerns left in the 'verse that faction don't relate to."
Ravage had the build, stillness and intelligence of an infiltrator. He would know, or quickly gather the knowledge, of what strengths and skills a former soldier of the Planetary Defense Force possessed.
Last Edit: Aug 16, 2014 10:51:04 GMT -5 by Deleted
A nod, the cat's muzzle dipping down smoothly. He'd spent far, far too long in the company of diplomats and city-leaders not to be gracious about an honest thanks. The Guardian understood, and that was all he could do. His tail flicked across the neat spacing of his dark forepaws.
"I would not expect you to speak for anyone else here," Ravage intoned. "That is the way these things go, I know."
Which was the truth. Ravage had seen things come and go, a rise and fall, the hoarding of information and desire to keep those around them in the dark turn into what it had become. He himself was the same- he held onto information for himself, but... when it came down to it one had to learn how to use what you held. If the Autobots had not brought this to him and yet, the Decepticons had, it was just one step, one light touch in the direction that perhaps this Guardian might be nosed towards. Perhaps. Not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe not even until a time when Earth had been forgotten by all but a few.
Ravage never held his thoughts to only the here and now. The mech was in the tomorrow and the beyond. Patterns to follow, situations to sniff after. Things that might not tip an ear in a direction he needed for eons.
He was patient. He could wait. He would always wait. For the cause.
Another nod at Layby's last comment. "Some concerns bypass that, yes," he murmured, even as he rose slowly to his feet. Every motion was sleek and silent; the shadows in the room fell across his body and stippled along his dark flanks.
"Although this has been a pleasure, I must take my leave," he said, with a long catlike stretch over his forelegs, his jaws opening enough for his fangs to show fully. "We no doubt need to get back to our respective duties."
Layby shifted his weight, hydraulics and cables capable of phenomenal torque and strength easing his bulky frame from stillness. "Course. I'll walk yeh out."
It was an unnecessary politeness, entirely unwarranted as Ravage was not being evicted from the DMZ and leaving of his own peaceful volition. The gesture was important to the old soldier, however, and he kept his steps a half-pace behind the cassette.
Inside the Atrium once again, it was Ravage's call whether or not the Nemesis sent its own groundbridge or if Haven would supply the Decepticon's exit. Arms hanging thick and loose at his sides, Layby awaited some indication of what Ravage had arranged or expected.
Last Edit: Aug 16, 2014 10:41:30 GMT -5 by Deleted
A nod. Ravage understood there was no need for Layby's escort, but it was a pleasant change. Manners. Too far and too few between in this time and place. With a nod, he waited for Layby to catch his feet and then swung silently to walk back the way they'd come at a quiet amble.
Like an actual Earth cat, he paced in that rolling gait that lifted each shoulder and rolled his hip.
At the Atrium, he paused. His ears flicked, but he made no noise. Apparently he had arranged a pickup. A few moments later, the familiar glow of a groundbridge appeared. Ravage stepped forward. Then he glanced over his shoulder at Layby, the angles of his red optics thoughtful.
He said nothing though. Instead, he merely nodded one more time. Then he padded through the bridge and was gone.
<<ooc: I apologize, wow. I totally missed this in my owed tags. Fin, unless you have something else to add! So sorry, Layby, accept my heartfelt eep! >>