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.
Rhetorical question; no need for an answer, which was just as well. Particularly since that thread of anxiety had dropped from Ironhide's field, finally, and the last thing she wanted was to be the cause of it's return. Instead, Shadow took her cue from Jazz to drape herself against Ironhide's side, helm propped against his arm, optics upturned beseechingly.
"You have to tell us everything. We can't be left uneducated." She tipped her head, shooting a quick grin at Jazz. "Or Jazz will teach us, and you know how that goes."
Should've known better and kept his mouth shut - this wasn't a game he could win. Ironhide shook them off with a snort and a flare of plating; overgrown sparklings, all three of them. "Ah ain't th' kiss 'n tell type, scraplets. An' she'd have mah head, an' right so. Yer just gonna have t' resign yerselves t' being undereducated."
Sitting back, he shrugged, the gesture raising and smoothing his plating. "All fun aside, yes, Ah had a good day off. Now are one of yeh lazy slaggers gonna tell meh what else Ah have'ta do t' this piece of scrap-" he raised a pede, thumping it heavily against the edge of the monitor console "-t' keep th' whole fraggin' base from knowin' all mah business, or are yeh havin' too much fun laughin'?"
Jazz laughed, not resisting Ironhide's push and letting it carry him back onto the floor. He put his hands behind his head, totally relaxed. "Sure. You have all the spec ops mechs who can read log changes on your side. Looks like you've got that covered, so you're good!"
He rolled, just in case Ironhide decided to kick him, ending up on his front, chin propped up on his hand. "And use this." He burst his own version of Shadow's Why No, I Went Over HERE! script at 'Hide. No one who wasn't at least his grade of spec ops mojo would be able to see through it, and unless Mirage was hiding somewhere on base (unlikely, but not impossible, given...Mirage), Jazz figured it would do what Ironhide asked without leaving Jazz unable to keep proper tabs on him.
Jazz just laid there, grinning. Ironhide. Ironhide had gotten clanked. IRONHIDE. It just...made him smile. And want to meet the lucky, lucky medic.
That there was nothing but amused irritation and affection in Ironhide's field didn't stop Shadow from moving back, far enough to be safely out of reach, when he shook them all off. She settled against the far edge of the console, crossing her arms over her chassis and noting that Jazz looked extremely pleased by this turn of events. Not that that was surprising - she liked seeing Ironhide this happy, too - but Jazz seemed just about as giddy as Ironhide himself.
Jazz and Ironhide had history together; she could only take his reaction as a good sign.
"So do the rest of us at least get to meet her?" she asked; she couldn't pull off Blue's Sad and Betrayed routine, but she was more than capable of putting a little sulk into her voice and field. "After all, it's not like we'd ever embarrass you by asking completely inappropriate questions. You know us better than that."
Ironhides hopes of no one knowing what he's been up to was probably in vain, in places like these gossip travelled faster than light While ou wasn't going to tell and pretty certain neither would Jazz or Shadow it was still only a matter of time.
Rolling away from hir fathers shake ou only came back to hug onto his arms optics wide and innocent as the day ou'd been sparkled. "Is that what you're afraid of Ironhide? You know we'd [never do anything to embaresse you."
Last Edit: Feb 23, 2012 19:43:49 GMT -5 by Deleted
"Embarrass meh? Th' three of yeh?" Ironhide snorted. "Never crossed mah processor," he agreed, tone and field confirming exactly the opposite.
Bluestreak was a warm, familiar weight on his arm, the overlapping fields of family and kin a spark deep comfort. Ironhide leaned to the side, resting his helm against Bluestreak's. "Wasn't gonna throw her t' th' madhouse right off th' bat," he teased. "Yeh'll meet her when she's ready t' be met."
Looking up, he met Shadow's gaze, and Jazz's, everything in him lightening a notch at his cohort's acceptance and shared joy. "Neutral," he noted, because it bore repeating. "It's... complicated, but Ah ain't tryin' t' get her t' join us. She's fine as she is."
Jazz sat up, leaning against Ironhide's legs again because hey, if Bluestreak got snuggles then so should he. "Wouldn't ask you to." His tone was decisive, though his processor wandered back to two glitch-sparked twins that he knew...and wished he could keep better tabs on. He'd welcome Ironhide to the club, if he was able. "Takes a lot of bearings to walk the middle road."
And maybe a clearer processor, he thought, but didn't add. Primus knew that the crazy had been ramping up while he was away, if what he'd heard of Megatron's return was even halfway true.
"Don't worry, 'Hide. We'll all respect her choices. And her privacy. Right, gang?" Jazz looked up at Shadow and Bluestreak, actually being serious.
The last thing a Neutral needed was one faction sniffing around and attracting the other's attention.
"Of course we will," Shadow said, tossing Jazz a look that said, did you really need to ask? She had never done more than cross paths with neutrals, certainly never spent any meaningful time with one (of course, prior to arriving here, she could say the same thing about Autobots), so she couldn't claim to understand them. She was fairly sure, though, that nobody was living as a neutral for lack of opportunity to join a faction.
And really, if Ironhide was fine with Cleaver being a neutral, she didn't see any reason to object. Especially not when an afternoon with the medic brought Ironhide home this happy.
The frequencies in the room had dropped from the higher energy of their initial teasing to something warmer, something comfortable and strange at the same time. Shadow shifted, not moving from her spot by the console, but sending a cautious pulse of affection toward the others.
"So," she asked, "how is Cleaver supposed to know she wants to meet us if you aren't willing to admit to us?"
If Jazz had been in reach ou would have given him a playful swat. Like he even needed to ask. Of course they'd keep his secret. Still Bluestreak would like to get to know the femme that was making Ironhide so happy, soon ou hoped.
"Have you even TOLD her about us Ironhide? Or have you been too busy doing other things to talk?"
"Who says Ah ain't admittin' t' yeh?" Ironhide shot back. He reached out with field and hands, touched the two closest, pulsed warmth and family at the one he couldn't. Grinning, he nudged Bluestreak's helm with his own. "Showed her yer sparkling pics. She's got a bitlet too, older'n yeh, just don't rightly know where, right now."
He rubbed his thumb across Jazz's helm. "Told her yeh'd arrived; hadn't seen her since before yeh got here." Glancing up at Shadowrunner, he shot her a warm smile. "Yer off th' hook right now, but only because we got... distracted." He vented, embarrassed. "Er... twice."
Jazz flicked glyphs of comfort and understanding at the kids as he let his sensors go fuzzy at the touch to his helm. And at the image of 'Hide and his medic sitting swapping sparkling stories. Of course 'Hide would tell her about them. Of COURSE....
This was nice, some small part of him observed, leaning into Ironhide's touch, into his field. This was really nice.
Then Jazz heard that last comment and snickered. "Twice, eh? Just to make sure the first time wasn't a fluke?" He patted Ironhide's knee. "Mech after my own spark."
Ironhide's sheepish admission was enough to make Shadow laugh, and that eased the sense of being overwhelmed to a point where she could move from her spot by the console. "That's pretty distracted," she teased, settling in against Bluestreak and letting hir act as a not-quite-buffer against the others. "You sure you don't want us to come play bodyguard next time you see her? It'd solve two problems at once."
The Feel of Shadow up against hir side as a bit surprising but pleasant and welcome. Reaching out to pet her gently. Aware all of this was probably new to her.
"Old age is really sinking in if he's That distractable." Never mind Bluestreak could have the attention span of a glitch mouse in the best of times.
"I think his body is the last thing he want's guarded, she's the one doing it."
It was like a gravity flux on board ship, flaring and ebbing, comfortable and then the heat of embarrassment. Even that was comfortable because it was family teasing, despite making him squirm inside his plates.
Ironhide flicked a finger against Bluestreak's helm, just hard enough to make a plate chime, followed with a pulse of warm affection for both of the younglings against that side. "Mech mah age who's gettin' 'distracted' couple times in a row ain't doin' so bad. An' no, Ah don't need no slaggin' bodyguard. Do want yeh all t' meet her, though. Just gotta find a time an' place an' not be overwhelmin' her in a mob."
He nudged his ankle against Jazz's hip, hand covering half the back of the smaller mech's head. On that side his cohort mate's warm, full body lean prompted a pulse back that was affection threaded through with a hint of charge, the electric ghost of a suggestion curling up from sensors that had already had a workout that day and weren't quite sure if the agenda was 'back to normal' or 'more of the same'. He was wrung-out, strut loose, and humming deep through his mass, but the protoform deep warmth and relaxation just made him want to share it and he let that offer flicker across the edge of Jazz's field, touch warm and undemanding. "An' yes, glitchscrap - twice in case th' first time's a fluke, and three times just t' make sure, ain't that yer motto?" He chuckled, the sound deep. "Ah think we covered that, already."
The tingle of charge sank into Jazz's field like it was grounded there. Jazz's optics reset in surprise, both at the offer and the way it set his own spark spinning. It was the first invitation he'd had since he arrived, and that meant it was the first in...a long time.
WAY too long, his sensors informed him, that trace of a charge skipping along his sensors, lighting up systems that had been dormant for...way too long.
Jazz's smile quirked slightly, his field washing back affection and interest and a taste of his own charge in a slow, firm roll up Ironhide's side. "Yep. Totally a good motto, too. Don't want to jump to any conclusions, y'know." He huffed warm air. "Glad you've finally seen the wisdom of my ways, 'Hide."