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.
When the Autobot stepped back, Roulette nearly over corrected her stance which would have sent her to the floor at her pick-up's feet. And bedamned if she was going to hit the ground in front of Shockwave. What in the pit was he even doing there?? He could have sent any number of drones to pick her up and she frowned at him, hands groping at her hips, trying for a stern stance and failing. Mostly because she couldn't stand up straight.
"The pit are you do-iiing here??" She looked over at her new friend and read the horror being blatantly broadcasted across his features. That, she couldn't hold against him. Shockwave had that effect on most mechs he met. Roulette had been terrified of him when she'd first been assigned under his command. And sometimes she was creeped out by being in the same room with him alone. But that was mostly when he had extra time on his hands.
A bored Shockwave was a force to fear and avoid at all costs.
After the non-space of the ground-bridge, and the uneventful visit he'd engaged in when he'd first visited the DMZ, Shockwave found his second encounter with the Neutral Zone falling within far more familiar parameters.
Shockwave stepped away from the artificial micro-wormhole and paused. He had to look down to find his proxy, swaying in place like congealed fluid samples in a centrifuge.
"The pit are you do-iiing here??"
"You requested a pick-up. At current there are no other personnel available for such an extraneous activity. Is this the Autobot that threatens you with 'elopement'?"
Shockwave's attention pivoted entirely to the Autobot holding Roulette upright, if only by dint of being... well, there. He was at least measurably taller. Sturdier. And decidedly ready, at least physically, to engage in behavior the DMZ would likely not approve from either of them.
Within a fraction of a second Shockwave ran through a minor calculation and decided that at the moment he did not wish to end his possible trading future with the Neutral Zone. He remained as passive as his field, the slow spiral sense of it untarnished by the highly alarmed reaction. He had no ready intel on the mech, but given the Neutral Zone's terms and conditions he was measurably certain that he'd been attacked with worse things (sometimes of his own making) than any weapon that did not need to be unlocked and/or rebooted, and survived.
If the mech attacked he would not retaliate. His tone was even, his voice was perfectly flat; he might as well have been asking for a daily report on energy intake from this or that piece of equipment. "Is he to be considered threatening at all?"
Last Edit: Aug 18, 2014 23:25:30 GMT -5 by shockwave
Primus was laughing at him. Red Alert swore he could hear the deity laughing at him and the great cosmic cluster-frag that was the terrible circumstances he had found himself in. It wasn’t bad enough that he had been approached by an inebriated Decepticon, who somehow talked him into assisting her across the room. No, that was just the lead up to the joke’s grandiose punchline: a femme walks into a bar, yada yada yada, mother-fragging Shockwave shows up.
To say Red Alert was shocked by this unexpected turn of events would be to grossly understate just how much he was not expecting the Primus damned head of the Decepticon science division himself to delegate himself to drunken subordinate pickup duty.
When the mech spoke---and Primus, but wasn’t that voice unnecessarily unsettling---Red Alert found himself looking sharply at Roulette, wondering what in the world she had told the mech to lead him to believe he had in any way threatened her, or even mentioned the word “elopement.”
Instead of waiting for an answer, he simply looked back to Shockwave and decided to answer the mech’s question himself.
“I’m just here to deliver her to you.” He replied tersely, as he willed the plates in his right arm to lay flat, despite the powerful urge to transform his arm and blow the cycloptic head off of the monster in front of him.
As much as his sensibilities liked the idea of Shockwave just not existing, he wasn’t about to break the rules of the DMZ, nor was he about to invoke the wrath of the Decepticons upon himself and his team.
Mindful of how unsteady she was on her feet, he pressed gently against Roulette’s shoulder to encourage the femme to step forward towards her comrade. He wanted this interaction to be done and over with as immediately as possible, and he made no secret of that.
She wobbled in between them, staring up at Shockwave with a sour glower. Why did he always have to show up and ruin her time? She went to the DMZ to escape his company! Not spend a drunken amount of time with him. He could have sent a drone. The drones didn't care about menial tasks. They were drones! That's why they were created in the first place!
"Sssssssstoppit." She tried to hold herself up with some dignity and was all too aware of the Autobot's discomfort behind her. Who wouldn't be uncomfortable with Shockwave looming over them? Well, besides her. At the moment she was so inebriated, she could probably stand toe to toe with Megatron and only have the one spark attack.
"I like'im and you're doing that thing you do." The femme pointed at Shockwave, or tried to, her aim was a little off as was her vision. It was starting to futz into the double-vision territory. Grand. "Uff...I wanna lay down."
She glanced down at the suddenly, very inviting looking floor...
[Permission to mechhandle Roulette granted by her Player.]
Roulette was not just intoxicated; she was deeply intoxicated. She would do this occasionally, not always taking the opportunity when it presented itself but still at random intervals that Shockwave had not been able to quantify. Then again, when it came to her, what else was new.
The Autobot spoke, and Shockwave's immense regard paused momentarily. The slow, chill presence of his field stopped its sedate, ever-present swirling and came to focus like a narrow particle beam on the red mech. The Autobot's steady tone and continuing presence of mind before him spoke of someone to remember. Someone, indeed, to mark carefully.
It lasted a moment, before he returned his attention to the many matters among which he divided it. Foremost, obviously was recovery of his highly inebriated proxy.
"Your assistance in this matter is... noted." For the briefest of moments Shockwave had pondered if perhaps another word was to be offered, but really, what did one tell an Autobot, even within a DMZ, even when they were being of aid? He might find the same mech strapped to one of his research stations during the next cycle; to waste words on him would be illogical.
Besides, Roulette was getting that distinct look that say she was going to lie down on the nearest horizontal surface, and damn the consequences. Whenever she did that she became about as manageable as a length of flexible piping filled with gel - which was to say, impossible to hold.
"Your like or dislike bears no weight on the situation, and I am not doing anything other than what you requested." Well aware that, DMZ or not, he was still a potential threat to the Autobot, Shockwave took one ponderous step forward, stretching his hand out to set it flat against Roulette's side. Somewhat familiar with the physical idiosyncrasies of the femme, he pushed just enough to send her already-precarious balance to the wind so she would fold onto the hand. One smooth arch later, he'd thrown her over a shoulder.
Hopefully she was not to the point where she'd start biting.
His attention returned to the Autobot. There were, he supposed, many things one may say under circumstances such as the current ones, but he saw neither use nor reason to most of them. Still, the mech had helped where he had no real obligation to do so.
Far more importantly, though: Roulette found him interesting. Interesting enough to like him.
"I will make no guarantees that this will not happen to you again where she is involved." It was the best warning he could offer, really. Scientist or not he would not offer false reassurances to the mech in relation to unquantifiables such as his drunken proxy.
Red Alert had never been on the receiving end of one of his own inquisitive stares before, but if they were anything like the one Shockwave was currently giving him, he would have to issue a formal apology to everyone he had ever interacted with, because Primus, was that gaze unnerving. He had the strong suspicion that he was not only being examined and analyzed, but being mentally dissected as well.
Of course, he could just be imagining things, but given the mech in question? It was entirely possible he wasn’t.
Though every fiber of his being protested at the idea of remaining within close proximity to Shockwave for even a minute longer, Red Alert resisted the urge to throw his hands up and NOPE out of the room, never to return, and instead stood his ground. He wouldn’t have to tolerate the other mech’s presence for much longer - he made his intentions known, and it was clear that he was there only to retrieve Roulette and take his leave with her. There was no need for him to be on edge.
No reason except for every single reason needling the back of his processor with tiny rapid-fire pinpricks of protest.
Despite very much wanting Shockwave to take his leave, however, Red Alert found himself with…truly insane reservations regarding letting the mech take Roulette with him. She was his enemy and he had no reason at all to care about her welfare, for starters, and he had no reason to believe Shockwave would do any harm to her, other than the fact that he was--well, Shockwave. Red Alert knew this tiny flicker of concern was entirely misplaced, irrational, and not at all called for, but he just couldn’t help it; when Shockwave reached for Roulette, he found himself wanting to pull her aside, out of his reach. He didn’t, of course, as he was not in the habit of listening to every insane impulse that crossed his mind, but still. It bothered him that the impulse had been there at all.
He let Roulette be swept away without protest, his optics flicking from her to Shockwave as the mech hoisted her over his shoulder. When the scientist turned to speak to him once more, Red Alert found himself bristling slightly, his sensibilities taking offense just at the sound of the mech’s voice. Primus, but it seemed like just about everything about Shockwave prompted that response.
“You say that as if I have any intention of ever involving myself with her again.”
If anyone was ever curious (and Primus, why would they be??) Roulette could tell them that Shockwave's shoulder wasn't uncomfortable. Not that she wanted to stay there or even be there. Bleh, she's rather sprawl on the ground and be stepped over by strangers. However, she sure as slag didn't have the energy to fight the placement and it kept all her effort to keep her focus off of the sickening pressure on her tanks. She would not purge on Shockave. But she would think about it very hard.
It didn't occur to her that her aft was on display for the whole world to see. Not that she had a perfectly remarkable skidplate. She was fairly average as body types went. With a grumble, she wiggled her legs and clung to Shockwave's frame, dreading the moment when he started to walk. That damn ponderous gait of his was really, truly going to be the death of her.
"Goodbye, Cherry! I promise not to do this again!" She tried to wave at the Autobot, but Shockwave's stupid head was in the way. With a growl, she shoved at his finials for blocking her view. "Shtoppit."
Someone other than Shockwave might have found it deeply ironic that every single doubt the Autobot might have regarding the scientist carry off his highly intoxicated proxy was entirely and wholly well founded. Said highly intoxicated proxy made for a very convenient guinea pig when she was overcharged into a temporary shutdown.
“You say that as if I have any intention of ever involving myself with her again.”
Shockwave was running passive scans only - he still had no intention of provoking any sort of potential ire from the established guardians of the DMZ, or the area's guests. Nonetheless the mech's dislike was as plain as his own optic. He could safely conclude that he was not a welcome sight or presence, since he was the only variable that had been changed on the existing situation. As to the why, however, he could only go on broad strokes, and such were not providing him a fair share of input. He was fairly certain he did not know the Autobot in question.
He was also certain, with those words, that the Autobot did not understand the entropy trap he'd contaminated himself with.
"You misunderstand." He had been about to turn, but paused mid-motion and tilted his head down towards Red Alert. "It is my understanding that one offers some form of equivalency for services such as you have rendered. This is mine: Roulette has taken an interest in you."
At which point said highly intoxicated proxy chose to flail her affectionate goodbyes to the Autobot in question, and then took offense to Shockwave's physical presence. She couldn't have budged him any more than she could move a mountain, and Shockwave acknowledged nothing of the action.
One random bit of data, however, spiraled into his thoughts. .... Cherry?
He continued on as if he'd not been interrupted at all. "You can, of course, make all attempts and enact all safety measures you believe will safekeep you from such future interactions. I am telling you, in the spirit of an informed warning, that she is entropically likely to render them all moot."
He turned away and headed for the ground-bridge; if nothing else, the turn should allow Roulette an unimpeded view of Cherry the Autobot. "What you choose to do with that information is not my concern. You should, however, consider yourself also fortunate that she is not at her highest level of intoxication and thus not prone to biting."
No, no, Red Alert was officially done. He was done. Done done done. Done with Shockwave, done with Roulette, done with his entire stay at the Neutral Base. If he ever in his life had set foot in the place, and had to once again deal with the insanity which was produced by inter-faction mingling, it would be too soon. He simply did not have the patience or the peace of mind to withstand the onslaught of ludicrous happenings that he would undoubtedly be forced to experience without being driven around the bend and back again.
Hence why he simply stared at Shockwave while he spoke, processing his every word with a blank expression used mostly by dogs hearing a particularly high-pitched noise, without bothering to say anything in reply. He just watched, felt a flicker of unease at the thought of Roulette apparently having some sort of fixation upon him, winced as she once again called him by that Primus-awful nickname, then waited impatiently until Shockwave finally crossed through the groundbridge. Once the light of the bridge faded, and he was left alone in the atrium, he heaved out a rough, frustrated sigh and pushed the heels of his hands against his optics as he wondered, not for the first time, why his life was plagued by the most preposterous, nonsensical, insane happenings.
Then he straightened, shook his head as if to erase the very thought of his encounter with the Decepticon head of Science and his intoxicated assistant from his mind, before tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling.
“You think this is funny, don’t you?” He asked flatly, his question directed towards Primus, or The Thirteen, or whatever other Powers that Be that may or may not have had some sway over the recent events he had experienced.
He didn’t expect an answer, and didn’t wait for one either. He simply walked towards the bridge himself, his head shaking once more as he muttered to himself and typed in the coordinates which would send him back to Outpost Omega.
He was more than happy to finally be able to wash his hands of this place.