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.
Ratchet listened, not completely hearing the conversation going on around him. He had a rather good ability to think about one thing while somewhat listening to someone else - multitasking was important in medicine - but right now Ratchet felt he was running on fumes.
He was starting to lag. Bumblebee, the energon crises, and now this - the old doctor was starting to feel his age. As he half listened, he absently raised a hand and lightly ran the palm of a servo over the top of his helm, much the same way a newly bald man might smooth a hand over his scalp.
What was wrong with Bumblebee?
Hearing his name spoken, Ratchet blinked, coming back to the present, dropping his hand. He looked to Optimus, then nodded to Windshield as the Prime explained the situation back at the base - without actually explaining the situation. If Windshield was trying to lure them into a false sense of security and then escape with information, letting Megatron know one of their own seemed to have a strange violent disease would not go over well.
When Optimus asked Windshield if he would accept the conditions, Ratchet turned tired optics to the smaller mech, awaiting his answer.
At first, Windshield looked rather mopish. His expression was somewhat confused as he went over the terms of his stay with the Autobots in his processor. Then he shook his head slightly.
"I mean—Yes, of course, I accept!" He exclaimed, confusion slowly disappearing from his voice and mannerisms, replaced by enthusiasm. A bright, friendly smile crossed his face, unlike any he had given to an Autobot before. He seemed genuinely happy.
"I'm sure you still have a lot of questions." The small mech shuffled to the side awkwardly, focusing on the Prime's missing optic. He didn't want to inquire, but it still threw him off, especially after he mentioned there was a "situation" back at the Autobot base—whatever that meant.
Post by Optimus Prime on Jan 6, 2019 15:39:47 GMT -5
It was good that Windshield seemed pleased by the situation despite what had just been told to him. Really, Optimus' offer was not the most hospitable to a new Autobot. It was cold, needing to isolate the other mech from others, and cage him up like he was some common prisoner and not someone trying to join their rank and file... but that was the world they lived in at the moment, and true free reign would be unable to be gifted at this time. Down the line, should Windshield prove himself, the discussion could be opened again, but for now he would need to stay put and be patient, working from the outlier location once able to do so, and until then remain safe in the brig.
"I welcome you to the team, but indeed, questions will need to come later."
There was so much more they would need to talk about, so much that Optimus wanted to still ask, but... things could only go so far out here. The Prime heard the bare necessity that he needed to get this ball rolling, and the finer details and more extensive discussions could be had in the safety of the Outpost. There, their conversations could truly be one on one, and if Windshield was trying to play infiltration, he would be unable to get his signal outside the base so he couldn't simply relay whatever vulnerabilities he may find out directly to the Decepticons.
Such as whatever was happening to Bumblebee.
They needed to get back to base, they needed to get to work, Optimus needed to get Skirmisher's recording to cross reference with Soundwave's to see if there was manipulation in play, and he needed to contact Starscream and figure out what this entire event meant for the Truce. Windshield would need to sit on the backburner for a little bit, settling down and resting with the knowledge that he won't be slaughtered by 'traitor' hunters such as the DJD, or vengeful Autobots who think they are being little 'heroes' by prematurely reacting to a threat that isn't there.
"Ratchet, please call for the Ground Bridge."
This time around, Optimus' request was far more at ease and calmed. While tension was still there, unable to fully shed the stress off the day, the snapping ire was not laced between the words. To pair with this, he lifted his helm back up to peer over at Ratchet briefly, before glancing back down upon Windshield.
"Once through the portal, Bulkhead will transport you to the cells for temporary housing."
This would free Optimus to deal with the next steps, and would free Ratchet to go back to the Medical Bay. He could also trust Bulkhead to not do some vigilante work. As much as the green mech may not believe Windshield, or dislike this idea, he would follow the set directive, and Optimus needed that right now.
"Should anyone harass you, report to Ratchet or myself."
After this was said, Optimus' weight shifted, a low rolling of his mass that transitioned into a calm walk in the direction of where the Ground Bridge had opened previously for Whirl and Skirmisher, predicting it would be in a fairly similar location, if not exactly the same. He did not turn his helm to keep a close eye on Windshield, he did not seem apprehensive as he passed, which was a sign of good faith and trust to the mech. Should he really want to try something, he would have had an unobstructed view to shoot the Prime in the back a moment later.
With an all too familiar roar, the Bridge tore into formation, a few paces ahead of where the Prime stood. His cyan optic calmly stared into the swirling mass of blue and green, considering things in silence, before he shifted his weight and stood to the side. Gradually, his forearm folded out and gestured towards the portal, indicating to Windshield that he should go through. His following words were tighter and tenser.
"I apologize for the hasty departure, but I have a meeting to arrange."
Ratchet watched as Windshield eagerly accepted, and wryly wondered if he would be feeling so eager after some time in a cell. While it certainly wasn't like prison - he’d get a fair allotment of energon…what they had, anyway…and wouldn’t be tortured or treated badly, it would be revealing how willing he really was to join them.
Ratchet was also somewhat worried about how certain others in the base would take the fact they had a potential ex-Decepticon. He was no prisoner, and Ratchet himself would see to it he wasn’t treated as one, if need be. That foolishness would not fly with either Optimus or himself.
Personally, Ratchet wasn’t sure if he himself trusted Windshield. It was an old ploy undertaken on both sides. Autobots that had lost faith in the leadership, feeling they don’t “fit in” or “they don’t understand me”, and Decepticons who suddenly “see the light”, despite not being able to for the eons previous.
Not that there weren’t honest changes of spark…and Ratchet sadly had to admit there were those on the Autobot side who had crossed to the evil ways of the Decepticons.
Now, with Windshield, only time would tell.
When Optimus spoke his name and requested the Bridge, Ratchet nodded, and slightly turned, making contact with the base to have the Ground Bridge activated.
A quick glance around the area to ensure nothing was left behind, and Ratchet stepped forward, waiting for Windshield to enter the Bridge. As he did, he glanced at Optimus, “Will you be needing me for the meeting, Optimus, or can I return to the Medibay? I really need to get back to my patient.”
The Prime welcomed Windshield. Welcomed. The small mech didn't feel welcome in quite a while. Not since he first joined the Decepticons. Even then, it was never a "welcome to the team" kind of welcome. But this time, it very much was. It sparked an odd feeling in him, but it wasn't unpleasant. He wondered what that feeling was, having no name for it.
Then the colossal Autobot leader passed Windshield. Not only that, but he dropped his guard too. It would've been easy to draw daggers and impale the Prime's spinal cord in one fell swoop. Even if the ex-Decepticon was wounded, he could manage to do so much; to backstab a hapless, trusting leader.
But Windshield did no such thing. Instead, the small bot simply followed Optimus and listened to his voice. Once the portal tore open, he exchanged a look with the large paragon and Ratchet, his stalwart companion.
To Windshield, these few moments spoke volume of Optimus' character and how he intended to treat the latest addition to his team. With respect and trust. Regardless of past misdeeds—for as long as the newcomer was willing to earn his keep.
And finally, the Autobot-to-be entered the Ground Bridge. He turned back towards the figures one final time, seeing a distorted image of the two due to the energies seeping through the air.
"Thank you," he regarded the smudged red-and-blue figure. Then he turned towards the smaller one, coated in white and orange, "And to you. For this—and for saving those miners back on Cybertron."