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.
It was easy to near melt into Jazz's hands and the comfort he provided. Offering hir the same for him in return. He'd been lost in the dark longer than ou was after all. Helm resting against Jazz's shoulder as ou watched the sky.
"She's probably making Deceoticons across the Universe tremble in her wake."
Ou refused to accept the alternative. Chromia was far to tough a femme for anything else to be an option.
Jazz could FEEL the tightness in his spark relaxing. It'd been doing that a lot lately, the mysterious bands of pressure thing. Jazz had a feeling that they'd started out in the timeless black, where logic hadn't been enough to keep him from feeling like he was the last mech in the universe. He'd had to drag himself several times out of the certainty that, while he was floating around in a shuttle that hated him, all of his cohortmates and friends had been killed. The feeling had haunted him even after he'd landed on Sides and Sunny's doorstep.
Landing on Prime and Ironhide's and Blue's had, oddly enough, been worse. Because one processor-boggling streak of good luck had been one thing. Two had made him...hope. Again. That perhaps there were others actually alive out there.
And Chromia...well. Jazz owed Chromia a lot. An entire cohort, really. He supposed that he could deal with hope and possible disappointment for Chromia's sake.
Jazz tightened his arm around Bluestreak, letting family-hope-love-confidence seep through his field as they watched the sunrise fade into early morning. "I got no doubt about that, Blue. No doubt at all."