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.
Carefully setting down the now-finished helm, Knock Out reached over to grab what looked to be part of a leg. He’d took note of the shrapnel that lay scattered around, and was quietly thankful that Windshield hadn’t opted for a brighter color scheme.
At least he was almost done now, with only few major pieces remaining to be painted - and even with the slight distraction of talking and removal of various parts? This’d gone a lot quicker than he’d thought it would. The underlying fear of the Autobots arriving at any time probably paid a part in this expedited process - after all, normally he took far more care and pride in his work - but hey? For what it was worth, the painted pieces were accurate enough to be passable to most optics.
He wouldn’t glance up as Flux arrived, though he noted the cheeriness of how Windshield spoke. He was far, far too friendly to the point it unnerved the cherry-red mech, though he was silent - continuing what he was doing without distraction.
Looking down to the one who approached, there was a gentle - if somewhat brief - look of confusion. Soundwave had summoned him here, yet wasn’t the one greeting him nor giving him direction now he’d arrived. The Spymaster had offered little more than a nod in his direction before closing the bridge behind him, but hadn’t made any motions of moving from the place he was standing.
Regardless, he would not question things - after all, it wasn’t his place. Assuming this was all above board, what with Soundwave seemingly overseeing whatever this was, he would nod to Windshield, offering a smile of his own as he replied.
“Nice to meet you, Windshield.”
Windshield.
There was something a little off about how the other mech was speaking to him - like he was simple and didn’t understand. Being soldier class, and bigger than most? This was something he was fairly used to, even if he couldn’t remember many of the interactions he had, but… This guy was nice, maybe even too nice - not quite to the point of creepy, but he wasn’t sure if he trusted him.
Then again, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. It seemed like he was running the show today - and Flux was here to simply follow orders.
“Aight. That’s fine.” gently, he’d shift his weight, peering out once more onto the scene. Maybe they needed his helicopter mode to remove some of the strewn body parts, or maybe his ground mode to haul something away.
“Uh- which one?”
(Small mentions of Soundwave done with permission)
"The one with wheels, preferably!" Windshield replied in a chipper tone. Noting Flux's immense and imposing size, he was careful not to sound sarcastic or mean. One never knew what sort of temper to expect from large Decepticons and he was not in the business of getting squashed for insolence. So, in that same casual yet respectful and joyous tone, the agent would continue to explain while leading Flux towards what would be his starting point.
"Before you get the wrong idea, you're not here to haul anything. We're trying to mislead the Autobots into thinking MECH did all of this."
Along the way, he took a wide berth of the crime scene, seeing as his current companion wasn't of the same agile constitution to tippy-toe around the Energon spill. He gestured towards it when he mentioned MECH, but did not otherwise put any special emphasis on the carnage, as though it were normal.
"That's where you step in. Think of it as being an actor, yes? You'll play the getaway vehicle. Run some tracks for us to make it look convincing."
With Flux still at his back, Windshield zeroed in on a flat stretch of the rocky land a short distance away from where he and Knock Out were setting up before. He turned to Flux, craning his neck upwards so that they could see eye-to-eye...as much as it was possible for someone nearly twice his size. He also waited for any signs of confusion or, god forbid, anger from Flux at being tasked with such a simple assignment.
He knew some Decepticons did not take kindly to being bossed around, much less to doing menial labor below their status. And by the same token, many were exactly the opposite and did not mind getting their servos dirty for the cause. Flux struck him as the latter sort, but he did not mean to offend in case he was wrong about him.
(Some puppetting of Flux done with Ren's permission. Knock Out will be skipped the following turn.)
The one with wheels? Well, that made life somewhat easy. Of course, both his forms were uncomfortable to initially shift into, but at least he could remain on the ground in this case, which was one less thing to worry about. As such, he’d bob his helm at the words given - easing into a gradual walk after Windshield.
He noted the care of which the other mech moved - avoiding obvious splatters of Energon that hadn’t dried yet. While he wasn’t as graceful in his own footing, a task made near impossible given his size, he was careful to follow as best he could, not wanting to trample and ruin the scene even despite their distance from the majority of it.
As things were further explained, there was a hint of confusion. So he wasn’t going to haul things, and instead do some deception. Not what he expected, but whatever - this wasn't his show.
“MECH? Those are the uh-” it was on the tip of his tongue. He knew that word, knew who they were, given it’d been drilled into him by Cintra upon their arrival to this planet, yet now he was forced to recollect things, his thoughts were met with a void of nothingness.
As such, his sentence tapered off - a quiet hum escaping him before he continued.
“Yeah, okay. Seems simple enough.”
Framing a third party was whatever, he had no qualms with such a thing. With Soundwave here this was obviously what needed to be done, and as such he wouldn’t protest or question things.
His attention drifted momentarily, watching as Knock Out worked at carefully removing parts of the wings from the Eradicon. He wasn’t entirely sure what’d gone on here, nor why the Autobots would care about a simple Decepticon soldier if they found them - though it was when he noted the painted parts that things started to click into place.
Wait…
Snapping his gaze back to Windshield, he caught the last part of the direction given, nodding. There was no anger on his faceplate as he peered down at the other mech, though the confusion was evident enough as he spoke.
“So I just kinda… drive around a bit then veer off somewhere like I drove away from the scene? Any particular direction ooor…”
He wanted to clarify, just to make doubly sure that he was going to do things correctly - memory issues aside, messing something so important up with Soundwave watching? Yeah, no. Wasn’t happening.
Post by Windshield on Mar 12, 2022 11:45:20 GMT -5
"You got that right," Windshield said happily and snapped a sharp finger in Flux's direction to rouse his very clearly lacking attention, "More or less."
He tippy-tapped a few more steps into the rocky desert and took a mighty look around the place. He liked to do that more than it was healthy for any normal Cybertronian to do, but he needed everything planned just the right way. One of his more admirable qualities if you weren't at the receiving end of the orders, admittedly.
"You see that nice clear patch over there?"
Windshield gestured out into the desert towards a strip with the least amount of foliage and rocks. Going closer towards the two Decepticons, the environment seemed to outstretch in a somewhat unpredictable pattern, but it was nothing a big, strong off-road couldn't handle. Flux would be that off-road. He'd clear the shrubbery and cacti with his mighty wheels and drive right over whatever smaller bumps stood in his way.
"Drive in that direction and then veer off to the nearest road you can find. Think you can manage that?" Windshield asked with a rather reassuring voice, or at the very least, one comforting enough to make Flux think about things other than the heaping pile of gore behind them.
"Then you can drive back along another path and we'll call it a day."
Once the large mech made it onto a road, he could simply return on his wheels, making it seem as though the tracks were left in an opposite chronological order to the one they were actually imprinted in. It was a simple enough directive, which even Flux should be able to understand.
Last Edit: Mar 12, 2022 11:47:07 GMT -5 by Windshield
Flux was listening, and while he was doing his best to keep up with what was going on, his attention hadn’t drifted too much in the grand scheme of things. If anything, he was focusing too hard. Soundwave was here and actively watching, which meant this was a substantial task - adding a whole new layer of pressure to it all. The snap of fingers was met with a scowl, albeit a gentle one.
This other mech was a little obnoxious, not to mention rude - though it was clear he was in charge here, given he was the one giving direction - and as such, Flux wouldn’t argue. Honestly, he was used to it, though had the luck of forgetting many of his interactions.
While there was no point in following the other mech the few steps away, he did sidle some - making a point of being careful as to avoid leaving obvious imprints. The ground seemed solid enough that nothing too apparent was being left, though they couldn’t be too careful.
As Windshield gestured, he turned his attention to the area that was being pointed out, nodding.
“Yup, I see it.”
Clear patch. Go to the clear patch.
More orders, okay. He had this.
Clear patch. Go that way. Veer off onto road.
Where’s the road?
Find a road.
Patch. Veer. Road.
It took him a moment, probably an awkward few seconds in reality, before he turned his gaze back to Windshield and nodded again.
“Sounds simple enough, yeah. Actually- one question.”
Turning then, he would point back at the mess behind them. Not that he probably needed to point, it just felt right in the moment.
“Want me to drive through some of the Energon first? It’s gnarly but, if you’re setting it up, will prob'ly make it look more real.”
Energon. Patch. Veer. Road.
No, stupid, wait on the confirmation first. No point getting ahead of yourself.
The dark-clad agent spent a few seconds mulling things over, finger on chin ever so poignantly, before giving Flux another one of his fabricated smiles, and dismissing it with a wave of the hand.
"That won't be necessary. MECH are butchers, don't get me wrong, but from what the Autobots tell me, they're also pretty darn good at covering their escape routes. No Energon splotches on your wheels tonight, buddy."
He let off an ecstatic chuckle, hoping that Flux would appreciate not having to clean Energon off his wheels later tonight. Then, he turned back in the direction of Knock Out, and gently dismissed Flux.
"You can go ahead and do your thing now. If you encounter any issues, feel free to holler at me. I'm gonna check in with the doc and ensure everything's in order on his part."
Having said that, Windshield gently sidestepped through the terrain back to the medic's station, once more taking care to avoid disturbing the gore with his footsteps. On his way, he tossed a final glance in Flux's direction just to make sure the giant wasn't already lost knee-deep in the instructions, and pending any visible issues, he'd not look behind a second time.
The success of this little coverup was now in Flux's hands as much as his and Knock Out's.
Turning his attention to the clear patch of ground, just to keep it in his processor as Windshield spoke - which always ran the risk of him getting mentally sidetracked and forgetting things - he would gently shift his weight, nodding.
He didn’t really mind getting Energon on himself, though not having to drive through it meant that Cintra wouldn’t be later hounding him with questions he’d forgotten the answers to, which was one less thing he now had to worry about.
No Energon.
Clear patch.
Veer off.
Find road. Keep going.
At the chuckle, he would briefly shift his attention back to the other mech.
“Ah, yeah - that’s prob’ly a good thing.” he smiled, only hearing, or at least registering, the latter part of Windshield’s sentence, and as the other mech turned his attention to the cherry-red Medic, his gaze would follow.
“Okay, got it.”
He didn’t want to mess this up, not with Soundwave looming so close. While he was certain the navy mech was only here to keep watch for things like Autobots or this MECH group making a surprise appearance, the fact he was watching at all added a whole layer of stress.
Turning back to the clear patch of ground, he seemed to hesitate for a flicker of a second, venting in sharply before there was a familiar whir of transformation as the eased into his ground based altmode. It was slower than most as they shifted forms, due to a significant influx of shifting parts and kibble. He hated the process entirely and the pain that came with it, but after a few moments, he sat idling in his alt.
Slowly pulling forwards, he would do exactly what was directed. Repeating the mantra over and over to himself as he moved, he drove in the direction that’d been pointed out. Windshield hadn’t told him how far he had to go, but he made his best judgment call as he moved with purpose, before eventually veering off to one side in his quest to find a road.
Knock Out meanwhile had made notable progress with what he’d been tasked with. Various pieces of shredded Eradicon had been painted with haste, though with enough care to the point they looked accurate to Windshield’s own paint.
He’d taken some creative liberty, tearing the wings from the Eradicon’s frame and setting them aside. Luckily the damage had been mostly through the torso area so it would simply look like the blast had done significant damage. Missile attacks were truly something indeed, and the fact there were pieces at all to be worked with was lucky.
The mangled remains were close enough to Windshield, at least.
He’d been listening to Windshield and Flux, though had remained focused on what he’d been doing without offering any input - after all, it was not his place. He too, was simply here to follow orders, and time was of the essence. The Autobots could arrive at any time - and with Soundwave watching he wasn’t exactly about to start slacking off for the sake of listening in on possible gossip.
“Well that was something.” he chuckled once the triplechanger had left the area, sparing a glance in the direction he’d driven in. “Surprised he got it right on the first go.”
Turning back to the piece he was currently working on, he’d quietly hum in mild approval, though made no motions of standing.
“Aside from the smaller pieces that really aren’t worth the time nor effort - uh, unless you deem them worthy of course - how do you think things are looking?”
The torso had been mutilated, yet the blast and burn marks made it unrecognizable as Eradicon. The helm mangled and modified to the point it was unclear as to just who it belonged to - and the various limbs, or at least what remained of them, were painted as close to Windshield’s own as he could get.
Post by Windshield on Jun 30, 2022 16:36:49 GMT -5
Windshield tilted his head slightly, eyes cast to the side.
"And why shouldn't he?" He said, approaching closer to the doctor's meticulous work. At the same time, he carefully inspected the gruesome likeness of his own scalp, fashioned from that of another. He hovered over it with a particular morbid curiosity. A fine day's work, indeed. When Knock Out asked, he could only answer with adulation.
"I think, good doctor," the agent grinned, "It's looking like one of the finest red herrings I've ever seen."
What he said was no exaggeration. Windshield has worked with many a surgeon to see his missions to completion in the past, but he never encountered one who worked with such finesse and diligence. He could see why Knock Out was their resident chief. It certainly couldn't have been for lack of options, even if Cybertronian medicine was something of a dying art.
That aside, the dark-clad mech wiped his palms and set off to arrange the gore. His accomplices had done their part. Now, it was time for Windshield to do his. With care, he took the stripped cranium into his hands and set it beside one of the larger puddles of Energon, smearing it in so that it'd look like the result of a butchery rather than careful sculpting. Having done that, he made a few finer adjustments to it before setting off towards the body, beckoning Knock Out closer.
"Would you kindly help me move this?"
He pointed to the helm, then to the neck of the torso. Clearly, he wanted them to set it in such a way as to make them seem naturally connected before dismemberment. All this he would take great pains to do with gentle motions and the utmost dedication. They could not leave any glaring evidence, no tracks in the gore, no smears of paint on the ground. This was the final piece. Then they were home free.
Last Edit: Jun 30, 2022 16:38:28 GMT -5 by Windshield: Stylistic thingy!
He wouldn’t look at Windshield, instead focusing on finishing the task at hand, though the gentlest of smiles graced his faceplate as he spoke.
“It’s probably obvious enough as to not betray my doctor patient confidentiality in telling you, I suppose - but long story short, his short term memory is fried.”
Windshield seemed the observant type, and would’ve no doubt clued into this fact rather quickly, if not today, then the next time he and the Triplechanger met. This ailment was certainly something that could be taken advantage of, were it not for the lunatic pink femme that seemed practically attached to the bigger mech at all times.
Not that he’d thought of doing such things.
Adding the finishing touch to the piece he was working on, it was then he would turn his attention back up to Windshield. He wouldn’t put the part down, letting it dry momentarily in the almost stifling Nevada sunshine.
“I’m glad to hear it.” it was always nice when his work - be it medical or otherwise - was appreciated. “Can’t say I’ve had the privilege to do anything quite so crafty as this before - I assume it was all your idea?”
He’d simply shown up at Soundwave’s request and followed the orders given. As sneaky as the Spymaster was, this didn’t seem like something he would come up with - and given he did not know Windshield very well at all, what with this being their first meeting, he could only assume the other mech had been the one running the show from the very start.
It was quite genius, really.
Satisfied that the paint had dried in full, he would delicately set the piece down. All they had to do now was set the stage, and with Flux’s aid they were well on their way to making this look like MECH had been the only ones involved.
Easing into a stand, he would make his way over to the helm that’d been pointed out. He was careful with his footing, watching where he stepped and moved. His own movements as they eased the helm and neck into position were gentle, being overly careful with things. He did this in silence, trying to focus on getting things perfect - trying to ignore how truly morbid this was should he stop and think about it for a flicker of a moment.
Windshield let Knock Out finish their work with the helm, pleased not only with himself but the whole result. Clean, calculated extractions mixed with brutal methods to partition off the unimportant refuse. Truly, this had the makings of a MECH operation. When he finished adjusting the final few pieces into place, the feigned purpose was recognizable at a glance. And yet, he knew. He knew this ruse would not last forever. Sooner or later, the Autobots would figure out the truth. This was a precaution to buy them time with the prisoner, and throw the enemy off on the wrong trail for long enough to extract the most vital information.
Knock Out guessed correctly that this was not standard procedure, nor a ruse fashioned by Soundwave, and yet when he asked Windshield about the origin of the idea, he could not claim the credit. It would be a disservice to an old friend.
“Can’t say I’ve had the privilege to do anything quite so crafty as this before - I assume it was all your idea?”
"I wish it was. It's just something I picked up from an old pal of mine, though."
There was a bitterness behind the words as if for a moment Windshield let the jovial mask slip. A rookie mistake for which he would've been scolded by said pal, he thought. The memory of his earlier days amused him enough to put on a happy face once again, facing Knock Out with a bright smile. Was it another mask, too? Or a hint of something deeper beyond those distant eyes. It was not for the medic to know. It was not for anybody to know. Anybody but Windshield.
"Anyways, shall we pack our bags and go?" He gestured to Knock Out's equipment with an upward tilt of the chin and a casual shrug, indicating that it could wait if his accomplice wanted to do some finishing touches. A suggestion rather than a request or an order.
Last Edit: Aug 2, 2022 13:56:10 GMT -5 by Windshield
Even though this task hadn’t exactly been what Knock Out had been expecting - after all, his skill far surpassed such menial jobs - he was actually quite proud of his work. The transformation of Eradicon into Windshield had been complete, and while he was slightly biased because he had played a major part in this sabotage? It would be very hard indeed to tell them apart.
Then again, the Autobots weren’t exactly the brightest bunch, so maybe he needn’t have gone to so much effort, but ahh he was nothing short of a perfectionist, even in this.
Nodding at Windshield, he noted the slight bitterness behind the words.
“A story for another time, perhaps?” he mused aloud, giving another satisfied hum as he took another glance at the painted remains.
At the comment, he would nod again, making his way over to the small pile of equipment, sparing a glance to Soundwave in the process. The Spymaster, it seemed, had been listening (not surprising) and his visor had already lit up with what Knock Out could only assume were the coordinates back to Blackridge Hold.
Gathering up the supplies, holding them close to his chassis just as he’d done when he’d arrived, he would turn back to Windshield.
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
While he hadn’t taken too long, they were on a time limit after all. There was no saying when the Autobots would conveniently arrive, and he certainly did not want to be here when they did.
A familiar noise tore through the quiet, a bridge spiraling to life nearby. The Spymaster would move immediately, followed quickly by Windshield. Knock Out lingered, if only for a moment, making sure everything was up to his impeccable standards - before moving through into the portal as well.
-Fin
(Puppetting of Soundwave & Windshield done with permission, thank you!)