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.
Seeing Knock Out accept the inevitable was somewhat satisfying, though from his body language Prowl would appear to be unmoved by the Decepticon’s actions.
Instead he merely stepped forward and locked the manacles around Knock Out’s wrists, then double checked to make sure the locks had properly engaged followed by a quick check with one of the digits on his servos, sliding it between the manacle and Knock Out’s hand to check for tightness. It was almost imperceptible, but it showed that Prowl still had it and had managed to get the manacles tight enough that Knock Out wouldn’t be able to escape by slipping his servos through the cuffs, but also wouldn’t suffer too much from pinching making him uncomfortable.
Also it let Prowl know that if Knock Out complained the manacles were too tight, Prowl would know that he was going to try something.
Satisfied that he had followed his programming to the letter, Prowl took Knock Out by the arm and began to lead him out of the cell.
“Sunstreaker, don’t let Carbine out of your sight. Once he’s checked out by medical, move him into another cell then get Red Alert to investigate the defective door. I will be interrogating Knock Out in the mean time.”
He didn’t say anything else, but he hoped that Sunstreaker would get the memo to head over to interrogation once Red Alert was put on fixing the door.
Yellow optics seemed to narrow into thin slivers as time progressed, Carbine perfectly content to use the wall as a prop to let time slowly trickle away. He could still hear what was going on around him, though he didn't seem to really react to any of it as it didn't directly involve him. Really, he was happy being forgotten, just some 'thing' cast aside so that more important concerns could be dealt with. Comfort accompanied this thought, not wanting to be the center of focus.
The projected eyes upon Carbine's damaged face plate narrowed all the more into faded lines while Knock Out was being shackled, drifting upon the edge between open and close, before a hand on his arm jolted him back awake. A small lurch of surprise at being touched accompanied this before he looked down at Sunstreaker to try to process just what she was saying. While the words were only partly held onto, he did feel the hand that fell into his, the tug offered causing white fingertips to clutch down as his support of the wall was removed. The first step taken beyond this point was planted harder than necessary, too much force put behind it to make sure that he didn't topple forward while trying to let muscle memory come into play. It made his leg wobble a second on the narrow ring that acted as his heel before he pushed further forward and he started into an almost stilted stride.
"I'͞m̀ f̷įn̴e..."
Garbled and barely comparable with real words, he managed to spit out this simple protest with a low gurgle, using his pulled arm as a guiding force.
While walking past, Carbine's head would turn to look over at Knock Out, his left eye that was half bled in orange partly squinting more than the other in its attempt to focus. At first, there wasn't much of a change as he regarded him, before there was a flicker of recognition, as if seeing the flash of red and gold reminded him of something that was going on. This formed thought made him turn his helm back to look at Sunstreaker, before peering back at Knock Out as he was assisted forward, trying to figure out what was going on here and why the Decepticon was being taken away.
That wasn't part of the plan, right? Or was it? Then again... the plan wasn't really in play any longer... How badly did he mess it up?
Stumbling some as he had tried to watch the other two mechs a step too far, Carbine's leading foot twisted as he wobbled and tightened his handhold, grit crackling beneath the ped as he caught himself with an added flourish of his rotors to try to counter the possible crash. Once righted, he was easily pulled along again, it very much akin to the one sober individual at a party trying to drag the other that had gone five drinks beyond where they should have been. This stilted gait wasn't simply done for show for their captive, as even beyond the door Carbine stumbled, his left freed hand holding out so that it could trail along the wall to use as a reference point to keep his balance.
"I'͠m ̀fi͜n̴e..."
This was grumbled out again, white fingertips scraping lightly along its surface while the handcuff swayed off of his aching wrist, the stability of the wall and Sunstreaker evening his stride out.
"I j-j-ust need̵ ͝sle̵e̸ṕ a ͠b̢it... No ͏Med͞-e̶d-ed̢-̢z̛vh́-̕d̨ B̢-bay..."
Whoof. Nap time was now though, and at this point, he didn’t even care if it was the hallway if he had to, though for now he kept up with Sunstreaker.
Last Edit: Aug 25, 2023 23:58:13 GMT -5 by Carbine