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.
Javelin turned, waiting for Hot Rod to follow. She was about to speak, when he sped through the bridge, tires squealing.
A faint surge of annoyance filtered through her. She had literally just said not to go speeding in. One of the children could have been there that very minute. It was one thing to be surly. It was quite another to be surly and behave in a way that could actually hurt someone. Or worse.
Crossing her arms, Javelin opened her mouth to speak, but was promptly stopped in place as Xero stepped forward and began speaking instead.
In truth, Javelin was a little surprised by the femme, as plating flared. It was apparent Xero was more…intense than most people Javelin herself knew, and the other femme had an air about her of….being worn down. All the shine having come off her a long time ago. Javelin knew war did that….no one was untouched, but she found herself wondering just what had happened to make Xero seem so fatigued.
Well…until now, at any rate.
Javelin remained silent, listening as Xero spoke, and found herself nodding in silent agreement. Some people dealt with trauma in different ways. Hot Rod seemed to have decided to piss the world off before it could hurt him. Not a new reaction, but a tiring one.
After Xero finished speaking, and gave her suggestion of visiting Ratchet, Javelin nodded again, this time speaking.
“Yes, that’s for the best. It’s mandatory, actually.”
"Exposure? You're worried about exposure." Hot Rod snorted some as if the concept was entirely lost to him. The femme before him may have been used to younger mechs backing down and taking the hint or running off scared into submission at this point. Then there was Hot Rod. He didn't seem to be taken back by her, either out of idiocy on his part or just some part of his processor that didn't register that this was that serious of a matter. That or...
No, this was just a challenge, he told himself, and it was one that the young bot was more than happy to play with.
"Lets talk about that for a moment, shall we? "Granted that it's not the most attractive thing I've ever seen, I assume that you're making due with what you've got. Fine. Means you gotta be protective of what you have. I get it, really."
There was a pause as he rubbed his chin lightly, as if really thinking about what he was looking at. "I assume you have security measures, right? Annoying little buzzers that alert everyone that the base has been invaded. Inside cameras pointed at the important parts... and I'm assuming ones on the outside, too. I'd be impressed if you had turrets outside to scare away the mean ol' Decepticons who get too close, right? Or at least some sort of outer perimeter barrier to deter them from getting too friendly. Stop me when I'm wrong." Hot Rod walked around Xero, his back to her as he looked around from one corner of the room to the other. "Now, what's to say that this base wasn't discovered on accident. Someone gets too close and BOOM. The threat is annihilated but.... now you're discovered. 'Exposed', if you would rather. All it takes is for the cons to bring along a big dog and this place wouldn't stand a chance." Hot Rod vented heavily then turned back to the two.
"Threat number two, and I promise this will be my last one. How about we talk about how you invited me along to this shindig, shall we?" Hot Rod looked planted his servos on his hips. "I gave you my code, I assume you did a scan to check my creds, looked at my badge and 'Oh yay, another Bot! Lets take him home like a lost puppy'. Did you ever think that the Decepticons don't play that game? Or heck, deserters? Neutrals just lookin' to score some freebies? Loot and pillage the facility then leave you high and dry. Sure, you can oust the bad news... but at what cost? Throw him in the brig where you partake in whatever your side does, torture or nurture with the words to sway or terrify into joining your cause, or toss him out and risk him telling your location? Memory wipes don't take care of all the nooks and crannies."
Hot Rod shook his helm and shrugged. "Not that any of that is what is happening here, but they're tricks that I've ran across and may have used once or twice myself to survive back home. As far as leaving me alone to do what I want? Seems you guys don't really pay much attention to what's happening around the world if I found you before you found me. So how many of us could be out there right now 'exposing' ourselves? Ever think of that? Or maybe I've been doing something right to stay off the radar until I wanted to be found. Either way, I'm a survivor who's been on his own long enough that I don't need to be lectured like a kid. The path to innocence speeches are long since used up."
He turned to walk away from them since they both indicated his next step was the medical bay. Now, he didn't know which way to go but figured he could just follow the halls until he heard the sounds of screaming, as that usually that was a good sign he was going the right way, or one of them would lead or tell him where to go for sure so he wasn't just wandering about without proper introductions to the rest of the team.
Primus, Xero didn’t think she’d ever dealt with someone so exhaustive. He truly did love the sound of his own voice. Normally, she would deal with this kind of attitude by sticking the offender in the brig for a few nights to allow them to cool off. But, she wasn’t in command. He had some valid points, things that bots higher up the totem pole than her worried about. And that was just the thing. It was above her paygrade. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, it was that all she had to worry about was following orders to the letter. When her superiors said “jump” she asked “how high?”. When they said escort ‘the punk-aft little slaggers’ as one of her subordinates had once fondly called young bots, to base, she did so. Still, he was a pedantic little fragger, latching onto the one thing he thought he could disagree with and going to town. If anything, he was only serving to waste time, but, maybe he would tire himself out.
Unlikely.
Still, her anger had burned out and she was ready to move on. She moved away from him, to the consol, and set herself to properly logging the proper information from the scouting run and the pickup. Might as well do it right at the source rather than transferring the information. Hot Rod’s voice was dulled to a drone in the background. He could concern himself with the things the higher ups did if he liked. Maybe it would get him somewhere someday.
“I’m sure you can share your concerns with Ratchet when you visit him,” she said dryly.
It was her only response, her cue to speak taken when his voice stopped. She finished logging and stepped away from the consol, paying the young bot no further mind. She wanted to refuel and settle down for a bit of rest. She was feeling old after this little encounter, and she was certainly in no mood to deal with him further. Maybe he would wander his way into the medibay successfully. Or, he would get lost until someone pointed him in the right direction. It wasn’t a very big base. Beyond his possibly annoying someone to death, she wasn’t too worried about him.
She paused in front of Javelin.
“I have logged the necessary information and am retiring. I apologize that our first patrol together was not made in a more pleasant setting.”
Javelin sighed as Hot Rod started off again. She had thought…..she had hoped…that he was going to ease off the “I’m so great, listen to me” nonsense he had been spouting earlier when they first met. She understood it. He was new, new to the planet, new to the base, and was young. Often mecha felt they had to carve themselves a niche when they first arrived, a feeling of “If I don’t stand out now I never will” or a desire to make lines in the sand and then cross them right off the bat. Hell, she used to be that way herself not all that long ago.
She changed, though, when life smacked her in the face so many times she gave up.
Javelin shrugged as the mech drew his invisible line in the sand, a demand that those around him take him seriously, crossing her arms and leaning back against a wall. She figured she might as well get comfortable while he was putting on his show.
Once he spoke his mind, and turned and stomped off, Javelin turned a faint smile to Xero, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug, nodding as the other spoke.
“Ahh, it’s fine. We’ll end up on patrol again some day when it’s less baby-sitty. It was a pleasure to drive with you at the start, anyway.”
Offering Xero a broader smile, she pushed off from the wall, and turned, making her way back towards her personal quarters, humming a few bars from a new song she had heard that morning.