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.
Quillion watched the tarp fly up and over him, air pressure keeping the thing a bit floaty.
“Good improvisation!” He exclaimed with a grin and drew Coda from the sheath on his back. The rapier’s long, tapered blade was made to stab and thrust, but its edge was still sharp, just for situations where he had to cut something, like this.
… well, maybe not exactly like this, but it would serve. Drawing the blade out of the sheath with one hand, he took a handful of the tarp in the other hand, which still held the original flag, and held it fast while Coda cut the tarp in two as it fell, the blade flashing close to Skystone where she stood in front of him, but not enough to threaten. Holding onto the half-tarp in his other hand, the remainder of the material fell to the floor.
His orange optics snapped to Epee, who stood nearby, staring at Red Alert, who was wisely ignoring her. Epee turned toward her carrier and locked eyes. A brief nod of a head communicated intent, and the photovoltaic feline hopped down lightly from her perch and moved over toward Sundance’s leg, moving to attempt to affectionately bump at the femme’s leg, rubbing the copper plating on her back against her lower leg. The cat’s biolights flared in elaborate patterns, as she made cute clicking noises, demanding Sundance’s attention.
Quillion’s attention was on Skystone, optics locked on her as he grinned and jabbed with Coda toward Skystone’s midsection, a probing feint that wouldn’t hit her, but would damn well look like it could.
While Quillion made an impressive display with his sharp stick, Sundance gently clapped with appreciation of the display of skill. But while his attention was elsewhere, the last clap of hands had a small flicker of blue white light while Suni made a withdrawal from subspace. With eons of practicing juggling, she had no problem with this small display of sleight-of-hand. Hands down by her sides, and palm facing back, she held something in each. She crouched down ready to pounce, to make her next move when the opening felt just right.
She had decided to go melee after all, even against that deadly looking sword. She could have gone in guns blazing, but her weapons were an off the shelf double special with no limiter control. They were essentially miss or kill devices, no low power in between. She still had one or two more tricks however. She knew she was likely to need them against the skill the masterful Quillion has thus displayed. She also recognized that Quillion was likely to use some technique with the tarp but she was ready for that too.
Under different conditions, that is to say, if Sundance wasn't focused on winning, the distraction of Epee would have proved simply too much for the overclocked little racer. As it was, Suni at this moment knew that the cat-cassette was a distraction at best, and a trap at worst. Sundance glanced down and noted the shifting pattern with concern rather than what would have been fascination any other time.
::Skystone, I'm going low, see if you can go high. Also, do you have radar?:: She radioed her partner.
Now was the best moment to act. Sundance lept towards Quillion with the full strength of her legs. She lept but into a forward somersault landing in a roll. As she came up she flicked out the two juggling balls she had in her hands towards Quillion's face, stayed low, and transferred her forward momentum into a reverse tornado sweeper or what normal people would call a low spinning sweeping kick.
Since she expected her opponent to dodge she was fully ready to either parry the sword with her armored forearms (which would hurt) or a snap kick to the midsection.
Skystone couldn’t help but quirk her mouth at Quillion’s jovial tone. However, she reset her face as Quillion pulled out his blade, unsheathing her own from the end of her servo. As Quillion jabbed at her midsection, she knew it wouldn't hit her (she’d been around long enough to know when she was really about to be fragged) but she still intercepted hard with her own blade, hoping to off-balance him slightly.
She caught Sundance’s form, quickly glancing to see her juggling with subspace for a moment before getting ready to pounce.
Epee didn’t provide much of a distraction for Skystone either. She was difficult to distract, generally speaking.
Then she heard Sundance’s message.
::Noted, and yes, I have radar.:: With that said, she watched Sundance move in for a sweep, skirting around Quillion’s side and jabbing at his midsection fast and ruthlessly, mirroring his move earlier. Like his parry, it wouldn't hit, but she hoped that between Sundance trying to take out his legs and a jab to the side he’d be thrown off enough for her other servo to grab the tarp.
Radar…? If that meant Sundance was thinking what Skystone was, that could give them an impressive edge. If it worked.
Quillion watched the larger femme -- Skystone -- parry his feint with her own blade and dance back as movement out of the corner of his optic range set his attention on the blur of motion that was Sundance, who was doing some acrobatic nonsense and flinging something at his face.
He drew up the half tarp in a sweeping motion to deflect whatever projectiles she was casting at him and to obscure her view as she lined up her next move. His attention split, Skystone was able to get in close with her feint. Quillion smiled at her and leaned closer to her. “Good feint! Got in nice and close.” He moved to smack Skystone’s hand that was holding her sword with a short sharp shock of Coda’s pommel.
Meanwhile, Epee watched the small femme to whom she had offered affection. The photovoltaic feline had been spurned. She settled onto her haunches, the lowered herself down to the floor, her hindquarters twitching, her tail flicking back and forth until she saw the femme commit to her lunge.
Epee pounced and leapt into the fray, aiming to dig her small claws into Sundance's back as she leaned into the legsweep. Epee's fangs sought to get a big mouthful of the scarf around the femme’s neck and shoulders as Sundance went for her carrier's legs.
Epee was a cat, and all attention was the good kind of attention.
Quillion felt his legs buckle at the leg sweep and went with the motion, shifting to fall forward and transform into his alt-mode as he did, tires squealing as the two femmes now faced an angry electric cat and a classic muscle car. The half tarp fell to the floor, but the flag was still clutched in Quillion's hand, now nestled within the earthly shell of his alt-mode.
Last Edit: Jul 24, 2020 0:42:59 GMT -5 by Quillion
True to the well deserved cliche of feline grace, Epee’s aim was a match for her intent. The cassette arrived on Sundance’s back and shoulder just as she finished her sweep kick. The kick itself had been successful, taking her opponents legs from under him. Sundance barely had time to take in Quillion's transformation as she was attacked from behind.
Distraction? Trap? Why not both.
Sundance yelled out, practically screamed, equal parts surprise and pain, but mostly primal panic.
While her parascarf had no pain receptors, her barely armored back had ample. But pain was the least of it. The simple sensation of being gripped by those four feet of fine but incredibly sharp hooks was just enough to trigger Sundance’s merinthophobia, and for her, the response was to lash out.
Sundance had a strong field generally speaking, she was not shy about radiating good energy. But that all evaporated in an instant as her field surged with panic, fear and aggression. In the seconds it took to regain her balance from the added weight of Epee, she had transformed her arms into dual blasters and with her good articulation, one arm was behind her own back and the other over her shoulder, four barrels pointed at the cassette.
Before she had initiated the energon cascade for firing however, reality broke through to Sundance’s processor, her target was no enemy to kill. She forced herself to vent slowly, put her arms to her sides and transformed her hands back. Her field withdrew and pulled tight as she forced control over her panic.
Suni turned her head as far as her neck would allow to look over her shoulder at Epee. “I don't want to hurt you but I am afraid I might. Please get down maybe?” There was a sadness and embarrassment in her tone, but also an offer of hope.
Last Edit: Jul 25, 2020 1:58:26 GMT -5 by Sundance
Quillion’s plan to smack her blade out of her hand would have worked, except that her blade was attached to her arm. Currently acting as her hand, in fact. She gave another little smile at his words of encouragement. She’d respond, but was trying so hard to focus that she knew she didn’t have much clever to say.
Then, two things seemed to happen simultaneously.
Quillion went into his alt mode, which was an interesting combat choice, because now Skystone was in a position to essentially curb stomp him. But before she could come up with a slightly less violent approach to retrieving the tarp, Sundance’s field exploded.
Skystone’s optics flew to the situation. Epee was wrapped around her, and that was clearly distressing to the orange femme.
Skystone held a hand out to Quillion, as if to signal time out.
She stepped forward towards Sundance, not wanting to startle her in her panic, but not quite willing to sit still and just watch, either. Skystone was also worried for Epee’s safety, as Sundance seemed to fire her weapons with real intent to harm.
Thankfully, Sundance came back to herself, speaking politely to Epee. As her embarrassment filtered through, Skystone felt a pang of pity for the smaller femme. The war had scarred everyone, and sometimes the littlest thing could set someone off. She purposefully relaxed her posture, prepared if Quillion decided to continue to game for the tarp, but not willing to move herself until she received confirmation Sundance was alright.
Quillion was ready to barrel his sturdy alt-mode into Skystone’s legs when he heard the strangled cry. He had assumed that Epee had electrocuted Sundance with the noise she made, but when he focused his sensors in that direction, he watched the small femme brandish her guns at the smaller cassette.
Acknowledging Skystone’s ‘time-out’ wordlessly, Quillion transformed and regarded the scene. Sundance hadn’t tried to flip the feline off her back, hadn’t tried slamming into the bulkhead or grab at her or any number of instinctive, panic tactics that would have worked on the small, light creature.
No, Sundance went for her guns. The smile was gone from Quillion’s face, and he studied Sundance in the moment -- her movements, her reach, her speed and agility. Taking notes, he watched the scene play out, with Sundance calming down and trying to reason with a cat.
He knew what his partner’s response would be to Sundance’s tender entreaties, saw the pent-up electrical energy starting to spark at Epee’s biolights. “Epee,” he said softly, and cocked his head. The cassette feline grudgingly disengaged and hopped off the flier, sauntering up to Quillion and with practiced ease climbing and hopping up the mech's armor to sit on his shoulder.
Quillion looked to Optimus and the others, then down at the flag still clutched in his hand. His other hand came up to scratch at Epee's ears absently. “Are we continuing?”
It would not be fair to say Red Alert was not paying attention to the exercise unfolding before him, simply because he wasn't actively watching it. True, his gaze tended to linger on his datapad far longer than it did on any one of the combatants, but that didn't mean he wasn't giving each participant their due consideration. Even when his optics weren't on them, his audials were - he listened to their footwork, for the whirl of rotating servos, for the hiss of hydraulics. He didn't need to watch attentively to know what everyone was doing - a quick glance every now and again to confirm the accuracy of his estimations was all that was necessary.
Still, he found himself looking up from his work more often than he really needed to, if only because Quillion was a natural showman and actually gave a performance worth watching. He was a good sport, offering his opponents encouragement, trying to keep the mood lighthearted and fun. Red Alert gave him an A for effort, and would have given him one for execution as well if things hadn't gone violently pear-shaped, completely out of the blue.
It happened all to quickly - a sudden silence followed by the distinctive whirl-shift-click of plating and internal mechanisms arranging themselves into a new, deadlier shape. The spar had barely even begun, and already something had gone wrong -someone had forgotten the only hard rule Optimus had laid out, and they were moments away from breaking it.
Red Alert stood quickly, his datapad falling to the ground with a clatter as he cut through the air with a sharp wave, thin blue sparks dancing between the finials atop his helm as he called for the combatants' immediate attention.
"Oi! Everyone stand down, now."
If he sounded righteously pissed off, it's because he was. He took a few steps towards the combatants, sparing a quick, incredulous look over his shoulder at Optimus to silently ask if he could believe this shit. Then he turned his attention to Sundance, his plates bristling in righteous indignation as his keen optics zeroed in on her, as though through sheer force of will he could pin her in place like a butterfly on a lepidopterist's board.
Post by Optimus Prime on Aug 6, 2020 22:39:30 GMT -5
While Red Alert had only been paying attention to half of the visuals, if that, focused more on sounds and the acoustics of the room to decipher where the others moved... Optimus instead watched intently with upmost focus. Cyan optics bore into the participants, from the three Cybertronians down to the feline that seemed so 'innocent' and 'out of play' until opportunity struck. He was looking to see what tricks they used, how they carried themselves in battle. Were they ones that thrashed in violent abandon to simply strike and make progress even with the involved risks? Or were they more calculative fighters that seldom attacked except when the odds were in their favor? The Prime was pleased to see the environment being used as a tool, the attempts at teamwork, and even the utilization of an Alt rather than affixing into their root form solely...
Until things took a sharp twist.
From a typical spar to a mess, Epee had launched up to clutch onto Sundance's parachute turned scarf to gain a foothold. This would not be a problem. The material could be patched or replaced more likely than not with relative ease... what the problem ended up being was the fact that the orange femme took it upon herself to lash out in the form of a real weapon. A sharp transformation, a flicking click of mechanics, and with little warning she now had four barrels trained right on the tiny animal.
It was overkill for such a small beast, so very far across the line where a shot from the rather quick firing weapons could cause some serious damage. This was not a Decepticon's animal, this was a teamates... Whatever the case, Optimus' frame shifted, about to speak, about to call out, getting so far as his mouth opening with words at the back of his throat before movements lurched into action at his side. Barked out statement snapped out to cut into the relative silence that formed, followed by crackled pops of electricity that snapped and sparked.
Optimus' mouth closed then and his frame eased back to neutrality, hardened gaze shifting over to Red Alert as the mech took it upon himself to address this potential danger to their team. Any notable triggers on such a level had not been declared as far as he was aware, and as such Sundance may have walked into this as a ticking time bomb that regretfully turned against an animal instead of a sturdier frame. It was only out of luck that she managed to strangle whatever impulse had occurred enough to not cause real issues.
As Red Alert snarled his question, Optimus' helm rose a small amount, lips pressed into a thin line as brows furrowed. While before he observed the grouping to analyze their fighting tactics, now he did so to look for the root of this issue. Try to find what had formed this, try to see what in such a short amount of time had unearthed this level of rage or panic. Was it aimed at the animal herself? Or was it a response to her scarf getting snared? Was it a 'threat at the back' reaction? There were multiple possibilities here.
Optimus let Red Alert take charge.
Last Edit: Aug 6, 2020 22:50:47 GMT -5 by Optimus Prime
Sundance was incredibly thankful when Quillion recalled his cassette. She still had yet to work out the intelligence level of Epee and fully intended to give her all the respect of a fellow sentient, including friendship. For just a moment, Sundance thought the feline a marvelous creature with her elegance and grace, and ruthless hunting skill.
At Quillion’s question, she wanted to say, she wanted to continue, but the part of her, the very large part of her that wanted to face any and every challenge head on was cowering behind guilt. She took a step back instead finding it hard to hold much contact with her optics as they pleaded with Quillion and Epee for forgiveness, and though she expected none.
Sundance visibly flinched as Red Alert didn't so much as break the brief silence, as tore it to shreds. On any given day, Sundance would face a score of angry Decepticons, and call it an afternoon well spent. But one angry superior officer punched through to her spark more surely than a dozen snipers. Sundance recoiled another step. Though her field was pulled close, she was still radiating embarrassment and sorrow, in the droop of her head wings and her true wings at her hips. Her hands were clasped in front of her fingers meshed but fidgeting. Her face was hot and her venting audible and her optics flickered.
“I’m sorry, I really am.” She choked out. “I have merinthophobia okay. The cas...Epee’s claws hooking into the thinnest armor of my back was enough to trigger it...my body just reacts…” And four million years of War had taught her body just how to react to survive. Kill or be killed.
Sundance looked to Red Alert, then Optimus, and then to Quillion and Skystone again. “I’m really sorry for letting my phobia get away like that and for threatening Epee. If I may, I would like to sit the rest of this out but still watch, please?”
Skystone ex-vented in relief when Epee was recalled. Thank Primus, there were no injuries.
Her relief was short cut but Red Alert’s jarring response to the situation.
She wasn’t going to contest him in an already charged situation (with Optimus present, no less) but she did shoot him a quick glance that was a step above questioning and only a half step below reproachful. For someone like her, that alone could speak volumes.
She just wasn’t sure that if in the middle of a clear panic induced attack, sharp words were what was really needed right now. Sundance had come back to herself, but what if she hadn’t?
Skystone mentally shook herself of those thoughts as Sundance spoke. Once again, her spark gave a pang.
I really am gettin’ soft with the years.
Her response was so dejected, however, Skystone assumed you’d have to be dead not to respond to the tone. Merinthophobia. Skystone wasn’t an intellectual, by far, but you don’t spend a good chunk of time trying to protect those scarred by war without learning a few terms here or there. Fear of being tied up suggested that whatever Sundance had gone through, it’d most likely stick with her for the rest of her life, unfortunately.
The more pragmatic part of Skystone wished this had been brought up before the match, however. In a tussle where you weren’t allowed to do serious harm, restraint was often a mech’s go-to move. Both sides were understandable.
With Sundance’s declaration that she’d be sitting out, Skystone turned expectantly to both Red Alert and Optimus, wondering what the verdict would be. If the situation somehow escalated, Skystone stood ready to diffuse the tension.
Quillion caught Epee with one hand and brought the small creature into his arms, scratching the cassette behind her ears. She leaned her head into the attention as Quillion cocked a head at Sundance quizzically.
“... that’s an awful burden to have, I admit. We’ve been fighting so long, we all have our baggage, we all have our issues.” Primus, that was extremely true. No one who’s been at war as long as the Cybertronians walks away without some scars, physical, psychological, emotional, all of the above. "By the Many Hells, I don't want to meet the Cybertronian who doesn't have an issue at this point."
Quillion pet his cat, his tone carefully level, his words carefully calculated.
“It does lead me to wonder why you’re here at a hand-to-hand training session if your first reaction to a common hand-to-hand technique is to whip your guns out and start shooting. What if someone tried to grapple you? What if Skystone here grabbed that fetching scarf to throw you off balance when the two of you went toe-to-toe? Would you have shot her in the face? What if I tried to pull off that same nice bit of improvisation you did, the thing you tried to do with the tarp, using it like a net? Would you have started shooting wildly, hitting me, hitting the Prime, Red Alert, or even our human friend accidentally?” Quillion swept a hand around at the gallery of observers, Epee looking up at him annoyed that the scritchings had stopped. “Why didn’t you tell us that you had this issue before we engaged you in a hand-to-hand exercise, so we could be prepared, so that safeties could be in place?”
Quillion fixed Sundance with a stare. “You’re a danger to everyone fighting on your side if you don’t acknowledge your limitations, Sundance. To us, and yourself. It's not your phobia that's the issue, it's how you dealt with it. As it is, a lighthearted training exercise just stopped with you pointing primed and readied weapons at my cat.” His tone, despite his words, was still extremely level, filled with curiosity, a teacher waiting for an answer from a student.
“How can I trust you now?”
Last Edit: Aug 12, 2020 0:03:56 GMT -5 by Quillion
"Because, after four million years of shooting down Decepticons, I've never pulled the trigger on a friend!." That was what Sundance thought, what she wanted to yell, and what she held back. It was merely a defiant excuse, and though true, it wasn't enough.
"Your words and the questions of trust ring with undeniable truth." She admitted. And her guilt just kept growing. It was a challenge she wasn't prepared to face this day, but there was no escape. Sundance would carry her own self created burden, because she simply had to, until such point as she could lighten her spark once more.
"Epee caught me by surprise and the hooks in my plating were the key trigger today." She could still feel them there in her back, digging, even though Epee and her claws were far away from her now. "I can sidestep most grapples I see coming, if I get caught I usually just tap out. And the para-scarf disconnects if someone tries to really grab it. I get the edge there." Sundance's phobia blocked her from learning how to counter grapple properly so she learned how to avoid being grappled.
Sundance could keep going, defend herself from every astute point Quillion made. Did she ever shoot wildly? No! Sundance prided herself on efficiency. She could honestly counter every scenario that the swordsman put forward but she couldn't imagine every potential scenario. And there Quillion would likely win.
But still even through her guilt, she met Quillion's stare with her own. "Though my record and conscience are clean, there is always what might happen next." She looked away briefly, scanning across all the optics in the room before meeting Quillion's again. "I can always be trusted when it counts, but today I did make a mistake, by not being open the moment I joined the room. If you will excuse me now, my processor will need a few dozen vorns to work out how to make things right again."
At this point she was feeling too rattled to want to continue any sparring, and verbal combat was not her strong point. Sundance never had any intention of derailing things like this and that in itself she added to her current depression. She went to go and sit down on the benches.
Post by Optimus Prime on Aug 16, 2020 23:38:29 GMT -5
As Sundance spoke in sorrow to apologize and attempt to explain the source of the issue and what caused such a violent response, Optimus' brows furrowed with a look of displeasure that only grew the more was said. So many questions bubbled up to the surface, so many observations that could be made to look behind the source of things, and additional fears that may have come to light should Epee have not triggered the reaction when she did. She appeared to be able to throttle, and yet... it seemed to have only been held back by a thread of restraint. Epee need only have taken a swipe in anger to spark blasters into action. Once again, Optimus felt geared to speak, to ease forward and address things, yet once more another cut to the quick and stepped up.
Cyan optics flicked to stare down upon Quillion.
It must be the trainer within the other mech that Optimus observed, the deftness and execution of words reading as if he had gone through this scenario multiple times in the past in one form or another. It encapsulated the core root problem with what had gone wrong and what led to it to begin with, brandishing it into the open so that all could see the true danger and negligence that had been harbored this day. To not declare the issue was effectively an assault on this very exercise, and Optimus hoped the less than forgiving approach would serve as a warning to others to be honest with one another so that none would get injured due to false pride.
Sundance continued then, trying to touch upon what had been asked by the other mech, attempting to supply answers to diminish what had flared up... yet, her continued elaboration made the Prime's primary question grow even more persistent, a large issue here that seemed to have been neglected. This would be addressed once things settled however, his gaze shifting back to Sundance as she started to declare her skill in avoiding grapples. It did not matter how good someone may be with protecting a grenade. All it took was one snag of the pin for catastrophe to strike, and to pretend otherwise was nothing but arrogance.
"I can always be trusted when it counts"
Yet masking her danger in a friendly exercise did not count?
The moment Sundance attempted to retreat to the sidelines, Optimus finally stepped in.
In the stilled quiet of the room, heavy footfalls sounded that much louder. A double impact thrum, the light reverberation across the block and stone walls... his stride moving in a direct line towards the retreating femme. It was apparent even without words spoken that he did not find this encounter over, and did not intend to let it die right there where it lay. Sundance would not be able to simply skirt aside and disappear as if there would be no consequences to her negligence this day, especially as there was far more simmering beneath the surface than she was even remotely admitting to as far as Optimus was concerned. More was being hidden, and he would not stomach that.
"This has not concluded."
Blunt words. While he understood the smaller Autobot was scared and embarrassed, danger to the team as a whole took president over mere social emotional strife for another. The safety of all was more beneficial to preserve than the comfort of one. As such, he did not let up, his words continuing with little concern given that it was a more public chastise. Further hammering into the helms of others that they did not wish to follow down a similar path.
"Merinthophobia does not encompass what has occurred."
His words were level with a hollow monotone, a sternness slipping beneath it all.
"Displayed actions speak of Pnigophobia, Rursusophobia, or Písophobia"
The last two were not a perfect translation, however there was not a direct formal term used for the specific subsection of this fear. Many Phobia definitions on Earth however were sourced from Greek and Latin origin, and as such it wasn’t a farfetched concept to roughly place the two together to imply what may be an applicable term. Whatever the case, the ones the Prime spoke of related to the neck or back, a phobia of Epee clutching to the parachute that hung down her back in a blind spot, or a phobia of the actual fabric pulling tighter about her like a noose without triggering the detachment that had been spoken of. The idea of a fear of being bound or tied up being triggered from a tug at the throat when all limbs were still viable and in use? It did not really add up as well as to be expected. There had to be something else in play here, an offset of her claimed fear, branching it out into a more convoluted webbed tangle that encompassed more than the singular definition.
"Your fears exceed your label. You will be assessed by Red Alert."
They had to know what was going on here, even if it was simply giving Sundance a better grasp on what ailed her to work on over time. It would give her a better foundation, while also gifting the team as a whole knowledge that could keep an unintentional accident from occurring. Someone placing their hand on her shoulder to get attention catching her off guard... Rushing up to try to pick her up on the battlefield if injured causing a weapon to be shoved in their face... They HAD to know what they were dealing with before it backfired in someones face.
At this directive, Optimus' helm shifted to look over at Red Alert, gaze narrowing a bit into a 'don't you even dare' glare that was not particularly civil. He knew for a fact he would be given an 'I told you so' later, and he was exceptionally NOT in the mood for such a thing at this time. For now however, getting her out of the group's prying gaze and judgements alone was likely healthier than hiding in a corner trying to vanish, a hope there that Red Alert would grasp the unvoiced 'now' that lingered in the silence.
Skystone was beginning to feel uneasy with the way events were turning out. She genuinely wasn’t sure what Sundance’s reaction to everything would be.
The team needed to know her fears, and Optimus brought up a good point, her fears did exceed her label. No one had been hurt today, but for everyone’s sake this needed to be addressed.
Hopefully, Red Alert’s assessment would be just as beneficial to Sundance herself, as the femme surely needed some sense of relief from such a debilitating phobia.
It didn't completely quell the empathy she felt of course, but she understood the pragmatism being presented by the others.
She herself had nothing to say to Sundance, understanding the femme was more than likely overwhelmed as it was. She did keep her facial expression soft as she looked towards her while she was being spoken to, however.
She watched her, not in fear, but rather in consideration. How would Sundance respond to criticism from the Prime himself? Furthermore, how would Red Alert react to having to leave as well?
Because Optimus clearly meant for them to leave, at that moment. She raised her helm to make eye contact with Quillion, the unspoken question in her optics- What are we supposed to be doing? She kept her tongue, not wanting to push the Prime until the other two were cleared out and that situation was no longer present.