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 would, Steeljaw calculated, keep him busy for... well, given Ratchet's present schedule of dosing him with things that tended to make him incapable of counting his own gripper toes, never mind defragging data files, it might actually take him a whole day. Maybe even two, if he was lucky.
"You," he told Blaster, "are a saint. Patron saint of extremely bored symbionts. I'll have this back to you quick as I can... which will be inbetween whenever Ratchet shows up with those positively delightful concoctions of his." He stretched out on the berth, the whole long line of his backstruts arched into a linkage popping arc, paws straining against air for a long moment before relaxing back. "Thank you. You may have just saved me from terminal boredom."
"Terminal boredom is one "disease" that Ratchet is rather horrible at curing," said Blaster.
Placing his hands down on his crate, he stood up and stretched.
"Ah, just take your time with it, mate. If you get bored of that, I recommend surfing TVTropes, Wikipedia, or Youtube for a while if you haven't already. I swear they're the spawn of Unicron. It can easily eat away at a few hours if you're not careful. But if that isn't your thing, you can always pester me. I'm usually not too far away," said Blaster.
"I'm sure it will," Steeljaw replied automatically, already examining the list and... well, no, it really wouldn't, not if Ratchet allowed him to stay awake for extended lengths of time, but that was always the question and Blaster probably had orders not to tax the medic's patient. It was still a significant step up from death by boredom and the symbiont took it gladly.
"I'll get right to work on these for you," he assured Blaster. Anything, to have something to do and feel a little less useless. "And let you know when I'm ready for more."
Not useless. Glorified extra processing power, perhaps, but not useless, and a titular supervisor who was, when he wasn't attempting to be funny, at least bearable. And was, despite being a host, not interested in a symbiont. It was good enough to start with.