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.
This time it was Bluestreaks turn to laugh. Holding tightly to Ironhide as those very doorwings fluttered just a little as they sank lower on hir back. Relaxed and feeling safe in the larger mechs arms. Allowing hir field and armour to flare out and allowing hir creator to feel hir presence, hir spark. Let him know ou was here, and alive. Not going any were and still his little bit.
"If anyone so much as scratches my wings I'll SHOOT them"
That drew a real laugh from Ironhide, the chuckle vibrating up through his tanks. "That's mah sparklet," he agreed, cradling Bluestreak close. It was relaxing, that feel; kin and comfort and home, his spark easing with it. A vibrating hum had started up in his engine, tuned to the sound of his sparkling's systems in a low, mechanical lullaby. "We raised yeh right."
He rubbed his cheek gently against Bluestreak's helm, optics half powered down. "Yeh need meh t' look at any of yer guns after all of that?"
Still holding tight to Ironhide the little grey sniper pressed hir helm up under the larger mechs chin. Feeling safe and truly happy in a way ou hadn't in a long time. A small youngling-ish chirp escaping hir vocalizer.
"Probably, I can take care of them myself but I'd like it if you did it with me. Can we stay like this a little longer though?"
"We c'n do that," Ironhide agreed quietly. He shuttered his optics, cycling in the feel of it; his sparkling in his arms, the steady pulse and hum of Bluestreak's systems, and the familiar press of a smaller helm beneath his chin. The last of the knot of tension relaxed, overwhelmed by all of the things which were hardcoded to mean 'safe' and 'home' and 'family'. Other things - duty, hard choices, and the monsters of war - had no place inside that close woven bubble of peace.
He let his plates loosen, weapons systems cycle fully down to rest, and settled himself more comfortably with Blue's weight across his thighs. "Ah got all th' time we want," he rumbled happily. "An' don't yeh go tellin' anyone, but mah sparklet's a Pit of a lot more important than any guns."