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.
Megatron. Every Cybertronian knew the name. Once, Optimus Prime had called him brother. Now he was the monster haunting every nightmare, the mech whose name was written on the destruction of Cybertron, the one they called the Slagmaker. For a moment, horrible visions floated across Rhinox's processor, of an Earth burned to ash, its beauty stubbed out like the end of an arclight.
No. I won't let it happen. Not here.
Rhinox shook his head, banishing the images, keeping the promise close in his spark. "Team Axalon was... massacred," he told Bumblebee regretfully. "We were outnumbered and outclassed. As far as I know, I'm the only survivor, and I almost didn't make it myself." He waved a hand at his sloppy patch jobs. "I've been planet-hopping ever since then, hoping to find an outpost, since my long-range comm was busted beyond repair. I just crashlanded in the desert north of here a couple of rotationary cycles ago."
The memories hurt to speak of, but Bumblebee was right - Optimus Prime would need to know. Rhinox would submit a full report to him, and await judgement.
Bluestreak Watched Rhinox, heard him speak of the loss of his team and couldn't stop the sympathy even if ou'd wanted to. Knowing the hurt involved in loosing hir team but...Ou still had hope. This mech, he didn't have that.
Placing hir Weapon in subspace Bluestreak reached out and placed a consoling hand on the larger mechs arms. Glyphs for sympathy/understanding/comfort soft but clear.
"Well we've found each other now, There's lots of us on base, you don't have to be alone any more and we'll stop Megatron and protect this planet."
Shadow was actually sorry to hear about the fate of Team Axalon. They were the kind of group you told sparkling tales about, scientists who had turned their exploration vessel into a warship when things on Cybertron exploded into war, an unlikely group of underdogs who had, against all expectation, torn out more than a few Decepticon throats. Not as legendary as the Wreckers, but still...a group that had deserved a better ending than they had apparently received.
What else is new? So may of you Bots are the last of your units, Barricade's voice murmured in the back of her processor. And they keep going on, forge new units, make new friends. Not like you. When are you going to make it thirteen of thirteen, you coward?
"We should get you back to base," Shadow said, shaking off the whispers, focusing on what they needed to do. "Let you report, see if Prime wants us to try to salvage anything from your ship."
She looked down at Raf, who had stopped taking pictures when Rhinox told them he was the last of his team and was staring up at them, his camera held loose in his hands, his eyes wide and unhappy behind his glasses. "Hey," she said, kneeling and looking quickly toward the spot where the cheetah still lay, watching. "Why don't you get a few more pictures before we leave?"
Obediently, Raf raised the camera, but then lowered it. "Shadow? Why is it just lying there? Is it hurt?"
"I think it's just trying to stay hidden until we leave."
"But what if it is hurt?"
Raf started forward, and Shadow scooped him up before he'd managed more than a couple of strides. "No going near predators bigger than you are," she said. "You just get your pictures, and go with the others. If it's hurt, I'll take care of it. Okay?"
Rafael grinned at Shadow, steadying himself in her arms. “Thanks, Shadow. You’re the best.”
‘::Requesting groundbridge back to base.::’ Bumblebee was already on the comm. back to Optimus, wasting no time now in getting the stray Autobot back into friendly company. He did not miss the subtle flash of anxiety off Shadowrunner’s EMF – clearly Rhinox’s situation striking a raw nerve within her. The scout-bot was getting increasingly hateful of this – the silence and lack of communication, their friends and allies dying on the edges of distant space and no one the wiser to it. Bee shook it off quietly, continuing his call. ‘::We have an Autobot/survivor in need of repairs. Designation: Rhinox.engineer corps, deployed with Team Axalon. Has immediate debrief for Optimus Prime regarding the current status of Team Axalon. Auxiliary request: med-bay prep. He’s done lots of field-patch/rough medi-work.::’
The ground bridge was coming open before Bee finished talking, the green spark and whorl of the vortex spinning open half a dozen meters to their right. Bee chirp-whirred his thanks and gestured the others to follow. Raf, from Shadow’s steady arms, leaned around her shoulder guard to look at Rhinox, blinking up at the massive gold Autobot.
“You think you’ll stay with Team Prime?” he asked, thinking of Wheeljack and his quick departure. “I mean... I know Optimus doesn’t ask anyone to fight who doesn’t want to.”
Stay with Team Prime? For a moment Rhinox was consumed by doubt - surely there were better mechs, better engineers. Surely the Prime deserved better.
...But he could well imagine his friends' reaction to that, so Rhinox shook off the self-pity, scraped up a smile from somewhere and offered it cautiously to the small human perched in Shadow's arms. "If he wishes it, of course I would be honored," he offered. "As I would be honored to defend this beautiful planet."
"Thank you," he added to his fellow Autobots, trying to keep his voice steady. They were only doing what they would do for any Autobot, but - it had been a very long time, and he knew himself well enough to know that he was starved for talk and touch and kindness. It was a spark-deep need, no less substantial than the need for fuel for their kind. To have it offered to him again was... well. He'd try not to make a fool of himself over it, was all.
Steeling himself against his own spark, Rhinox turned to the space bridge. It was time to go home.
Shadow watched the others go through the ground bridge, setting Raf down so he could follow. "I'll just be a minute," she promised, stroking his back with the tips of her fingers. Then she was alone, except for the tawny animal watching her with wide gold eyes. She approached the cat slowly, hoping it would run, unsurprised when it didn't.
She pushed the brush aside and picked the cheetah up like a human would a housecat, ignoring the blunt claws that scrabbled against her plating and the teeth that bit vainly at her mesh. One of the cats hind legs was swollen, twice its proper size, radiating heat; she could just make out the puncture wounds from a bite which had led to the infection.
"You're probably going to die anyway," she said, cradling the animal against her chassis. She could feel - something, not like a Cybertronian EMF, but something, a faint sensor ghost like she felt when she touched one of the humans - whispering against her own field as she searched the internet for the most basic care she could provide. Her EMF radiated comfort/reassurance back, even knowing the animal wouldn't understand it. "But I promised Raf I'd take care of you."
She held the animal firmly in one servo, the other digging at the half-healed punctures, tearing them open and allowing vile organic gunk to spurt free. Shadow grimaced in disgust as the cat snarled and resumed its fruitless struggles, thick green goo splattering her armor and the ground as she carefully forced the infection out of the re-opened wound until only blood ran from it. It might just re-infect, or the cheetah might be too far gone for it to matter, but with the swelling gone the cat was moving the leg again, and she had to hope that would make a difference.
"I hope you appreciate this," she murmured as she carefully transformed around the animal, leaving it lying on her front seat...at least until she started moving, and then it was a snarling, thrashing mass that battered against her windows and tore at the softer surfaces of her interior.
Luckily, the water source her sensors had detected wasn't far away, and she was able to spill the cat out into the shelter of a bush with far less care than she'd used in transforming to her alt. She held it in place with one servo, the other reaching into the water and snagging a fish, which she set under the cheetah's nose.
"I hope you appreciate this enough not to die," she muttered, backing away from the animal. It's attention was firmly on the food, possibly the first it had seen in days. At least it had an appetite; that, she told herself firmly, was at least a hopeful sign. She could tell Raf it would be fine.
Three quick steps to the top of the hill so she wouldn't disturb the cheetah's meal, and she was twisting down into her alt, engine roaring as she raced back to the ground bridge.