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.
Post by Cassandra Cassidy on Jul 19, 2023 22:09:34 GMT -5
"That's fine," Butch said. If looking for that music made him unhappy? Then she wouldn't push him to look for it. Maybe he simply had a mess of collection to go through. Whatever the reason, it wasn't her place to dredge up anything.
At the mention of being able to cause avalanches, Butch looked even more fascinated. "Really?" she asked, walking over a little closer. "Ultrasound, infrasound, or both?" The intent might be to do damage, but it was still of interest to the human nonetheless. She began to wonder how he might be able to do what he did - a speaker system, perhaps? Some kind of internal mechanism that whirred and came to life? One of his instruments, retrofitted for the war effort?
A thought crossed her mind amidst this: if he was a musician, did that mean he listened to Earth music? Maybe it would be better to get off the topic of war before she pursued something dark and deep. Looking a little embarrassed, Butch said, "Sorry...I got caught up in myself again." She then grabbed her phone from where she had placed it on the counter, bringing up YouTube on it.
The mech didn't feel comfortable getting into the break down of his systems, so he was more than happy to, and honestly relieved, that she moved on to something else otherwise he would have had to be the one to put a stop to it himself. Jazz was all about small talk and making friends, but he almost felt like he was under a casual Decepticon interogation. He really just wasn't down for that. Especially cause he didn't even really know this human. If Optimus didn't know the info, he certainly wasn't going to provide it to someone else.
The topic change was a good one.
"The Hip? Yeah, they made that song that was really popular in the mid-90's called Ahead by a Century. Band outta Canada. Personally, I'm a big more of a metal mech. RED, Disturbed, RATM..."
Post by Cassandra Cassidy on Jul 19, 2023 23:04:38 GMT -5
"I've never heard of them," Butch said, looking a little sheepish. "I...don't listen to much music as I do documentaries, or...nothing. I'm glad you found something you like on Earth, though."
Silence. Awkward, uncertain silence. She had already drilled him with her unrelenting curiosity, so...now what? Should she go on her way? Should she try and talk about something else? Maybe ask him his favorite songs? Cassandra was the quiet one, never a big talker unless her interest was perked. Maybe she should she just...go back to getting the coffee ready....
Songs. His favorite songs, her brain reminded itself. She'd ask that and go get the coffee ready at the same time. "What are your favorites?" she said, then turned and headed to the back of the kitchenette. Was that rude? Maybe that was too rude. Damn it, why was she shy and uncertain all of a sudden?
Jazz made a small clicking noise that came out of the side of his mouth, like he was clicking his tongue there or something, and rubbed the back of his helm with one servo. The thought of sitting around having to taking in educational material of any kind brought back some memories.
"Everyone's got their own jam. If I wanted to listen to documentaries, I'd sit through one of our science bots lectures, or one of Prowl's. Not recommended unless ya gotta, just sayin'. Myself? I've always wanted to be a music man, so of course I'd gravitate towards that. Always have. Now, askin' me about favorite songs is like askin' a human to pick their favorite child. That's such an impossible question to answer- unfair and heartbreakin'." Jazz gave a rather dramatic sigh and shook his helm, but the fascade was over almost as soon as it had started. He gave a brief pause as he tried to think of some other music suggestion, but there were so many that came to mind that he'd have a hard time just limiting that to where the human brain wouldn't crash from the overload.
"I've got a wide array of songs that are my go to, but I'm always down for jammin' with some Scatman Crothers. Rock Roman Rock It is a good one, so is Ghost Riders. They're oldies, but goodies. May not be everyone's cup'o'coffee cause they kinda dated, but nothin' beats sittin' down with a chill drink and listenin' to the classics."
Post by Cassandra Cassidy on Jul 27, 2023 18:24:33 GMT -5
"I'll have to listen to those sometime," Butch said, popping open the top of the coffee maker and setting the filter in. "I agree with listening to the classics. Nothing like a bit of Hip after a long day at work and a glass of lemonade, I say."
Work. She could talk about work. If he was so forthright about his special abilities, it only made sense for her to share what she did for a living. "I'm a cleaner when I'm not here," Butch began, putting the finishing touches on getting the coffee ready. She turned on the maker and turned back to Jazz, standing in the kitchenette still. "Biohazard and deep cleaning. I'm on break from work right now, but I do work with hoarders, extreme clean-ups, post-accident care, crime scenes.... Puttering around base is a refreshing change of pace. Doesn't take long to get things organized around here."
She gestured for the robot to come over. "Would you like to come take a look? There are a few things here you might be interested in if you use your hologram. Er, that is, more than one of you can use a hologram, correct? Or is that a restricted ability?"
"Well, guess it's a good thing ya know your way around biohazard stuff, cause trust me- some of the stuff that comes outta our systems can be toxic, even for us. You lucky ya ain't got caught up in our mess after a huge fight."
"Our what nows?" Jazz glanced her way with the mention of holograms, trying to figure out what she was talking about. At first he assumed maybe she didn't know how their alt modes worked and she was talking about their scanners or something- then it clicked.
"Ah! Wait. Got it. Holoforms." Jazz held up his digit as he corrected her, a small correction, but for an old mech like himself, something like that mattered. "Sorry, threw me off for a nanoklik. Holoforms are our little human whatevers we show off to make us look like we ain't just drivin' ourselves, or at least however we decide to use 'em. I've known mechs who can project holograms of all sorts of things that operate a little differently, so that's why I was confused. M'bad." Jazz put that digit down then and crossed his arms loosely over his chassis.
"Yeah, several of us can use those to different degrees, depends on a lot of factors. I got one but I don't use'm very often. I don't see the way other mechs do so it kinda does wonky things t'me, tryin' to process sight an' all. Don't much care for it, so it's an 'as needed in emergencies' type of situation. So, nah, I'm good. Thanks anyway, though."
Post by Cassandra Cassidy on Aug 8, 2023 21:45:28 GMT -5
Holoforms. Nanoklik. More words to remember. Butch nodded along at the explanation, once again looking fascinated. So they could have a holoform and project some kind of hologram? Incredible. Absolutely remarkable. And he didn't see like others of his kind did?
"How do you see?" Butch asked. "Do you have more than two eyes under your visor? Or does your visor act as your eyes?" Was it even a visor in the first place, or some kind of hardware Butch didn't know about? The cleaner came back around again, head cocked to the side.
"Some humans see in different ways, too. Some of us lack sight completely, but find ways to compensate. Blind folks have a number of tactile aids they can use, and some use dogs to get around safely. There's canes, special paving in some countries, raised Braille letters they can use to read.... Some even develop a form of echolocation, or so I've heard. It's been a while since I read that article."
There she went, going on a tangent again. The more Jazz talked about himself, the deeper down the rabbit hole Butch wanted to go with him.
Oh boy, that had opened the metophorical can of worms. This human certainly was a curious type, but he'd come to expect things like that from a lot of the locals. The amount of times he'd been asked questions that he had a difficult time explaining could probably be written on a shopping list that could emcompass Cybertron.
"The easiest question to answer outta all that is about my eyes- optics for us. I actually don't have any- not anymore, at least. Apparently others say it's like two souless voices in my faceplate- and no, I ain't gonna show ya cause I ain't gonna be responsible for any nightmares that may come from it. Optimus would have my aft."
Or worse, he'd have him sit through a security protocol meetings for the next century.
"As for the other part? Uh... man, Primus, that's a lil more technical which ain't as easy to answer. At this point it just comes naturally to me so I don't really stop and think 'bout it." Jazz made a hmm noise as he tapped an index digit over his intake. Honestly, he wasn't even really sure if he had the expertise to break it down easy enough for the human to understand.
"Well, easiest thing I guess I can say is... neither? My visor is more like my information center. It works with my audials to scan an individual or an area and feeds the information back to an entirely different system that's more internal. I guess everything kinda works like... a scanner? Maybe? Oh boy, this is gettin' even more confusin, ain't it? It's like askin' a musician to explain quantum physics."
He rubbed the back of his neck slightly, tilting his helm forward a bit in order to do so. This was literally becoming a pain, and the thought of attempting to explain it further was making him want to purge his tanks. Time to cut it dry and leave it with a little less explanation and more of an extended version of 'no'.
"Just take it as, my visor is more like an on board computer. It scans, it feeds it back to my HUD so I can figure out what's goin' on. I'm blind without it. Thankfully my systems have gotten used to not havin' to waste resources on sight that I got sensitive enough audials to hear a spark beat if I focus enough. Tell ya what, though, it gives me one hell of a poker face. Ain't lost a game yet."
Post by Cassandra Cassidy on Aug 28, 2023 19:11:47 GMT -5
The more and more Jazz talked, the more Cassandra realized she might as well been asking a layperson the technical details of how the digestion system worked. It wasn't a matter of some kind of customization, but of biology. Jazz was powering through the awkwardness as best he could, but it was clear he couldn't give her a straight answer. What he could provide was still enough for Butch's hunger for knowledge, and she gave an apologetic smile.
"That's amazing," she told the robot. "What a feat of engineering! I can only imagine what we humans could be capable of if we had a whole computer for eyes.... And your 'audials' - are those ears? - can hear a 'sparkbeat'? Is that a heartbeat for your people, or something else?"
She leaned forward. In her head, she was starting to take apart the mech piece by piece. She was imagining his internals, his arteries of fuel among whirring gears and hissing pistons, lines of code across his face that made his legs move, his arms twitch.... Wait, poker face? Robots played poker?
"Remind me to challenge to you to a game sometime," Butch said. "I'm shit at cards, but I would not pass up an opportunity to play with someone like yourself. That is, if we can find cards in your size." She chuckled at the thought of Jazz holding an oversized royal flush in his hands, staring little old her down at a table he couldn't fit at.
"But where are my manners?" she suddenly said. "I've asked you a thousand questions already. It just occurred to me you might have some of your own?"
Jazz held up his servos in a self-defense gesture and offered her a small chuckle. "Woah now, one thing at a time, yeah? I'm old and I ain't as quick as a used to be. I don't wanna miss the questions I can answer." Once the servos lowered he tilted his helm to the side and rubbed the side of his neck as if to work out a kink there. It was a short lived movement, and he eased his stance once more with both servos dropping, one to his hip while the other was free to gesture while he spoke. "Ya remind me of that human child we got hangin' round here- Miko, I believe. Ya'll are such curious creatures, like a newly sparked frame learnin' the world'round them." It was a lot, but it was also refreshing in some sense. It'd been a while since he had dealt with kids, and though Patch and Bee were chin deep in the war, they weren't hardened enough to not be curious about what Cybertron was like before the war began.
But Primus, did it make him feel aged. He could almost feel the rust growing rust in his undercarriage.
"Audials are our sound recept- ears, yes. Sparkbeats are heartbeats, sparks are... well, pretty self explanatory. They're these little orbs of light that exist in a chamber. Each one has a different pulse- like a melody- that is their own for the entirety of its lifecycle. When they extinguish naturally it's like watchin' the sun set..." He didn't even want to mention the other way, having dealt with far too many of those and not wanting to ruin the moment for Cassandra, so the topic of conversation shifted, and he had no intention of going back to it.
"Good luck on that whole 'cards big enough for me' thing. I got these giant servos- hands- and I've seen just how tiny yours are in comparison. Plus we got different types of cards, so different layout. But we go a few favorites that span from card to board games, plus physical games that puts one's strength to the ultimate test, things like that. Just depends on the mood and what you're into. I got real good at Triad at one of Cybertron's local casinos in my youth to earn some spare shanix- yes, that's our version of money. Fullstasis was popular as well, but that's more like... chess? Yeah, chess."
Jazz made a noise, recalling something that seemed sort of 'eugh', as he made an expression to reflect that, the free-moving servo moving to the front of his forehelm to idly rub there.
"Primus, I ain't played Triad since my days in the EG. That was one of the few times where rank didn't matter, cause you'd see ranked officers throw down with cadets. Can't count how many brawls I had to break up in my time."
There was a moment of pause as he looked at the human, trying to think of a question he may have had himself. Honestly there wasn't much that he hadn't already collected in his data files, probably stuff humans themselves didn't know. Pocket knowledge for later, he supposed.
"Not really. If I'm bein' honest, besides the material our parts are made of and some different terms, our species ain't really all that different, we're just obviously more advanced cause we've been 'round longer. It's fascinatin' to me how lifeforms from entirely different solar systems can share common traits- even the stupid ones."
Post by Cassandra Cassidy on Aug 29, 2023 11:32:52 GMT -5
An orb of light...for a heart. All Butch could think of was a miniature sun at the sunset comparison, pulsing gently to its own unique rhythm in Jazz's chest. The woman's otherwise-restrained expression broke, eyes growing large and wide as she contemplated this. Then he started talking about card games - they had card games! - and casinos, and money.... The EG? "What's the EG?" she asked suddenly, taking a step forward without really thinking about doing so.
He was on the nose about how similar their worlds were. Their societies ran parallel to each other, one mechanical and the other flesh. It was as if someone had taken Earth and made it in the image of the machine. Butch could only nod along, still mesmerized by everything Jazz had told her.
"I should like to see Cybertron, one day," Butch said, her voice was a tad wistful. "As impossible as that may sound, it would be incredible to see all of its differences as well as its similarities. Your people...your people are beautiful, Jazz. Beautiful and magnificent, like constellations in the sky, or a fossil in the ground. I just...."
She needed a moment. Butch smiled a true, wide smile that softened, and she looked away and closed her eyes. She hummed, tsked, and shook her head, then looked back at Jazz.
"Sorry. I get a little emotional about these things, sometimes. If there's no questions I can answer, is there anything I can do for you? I picked rock out of the hands - servos - of Commander Avalanche not too long ago. I could do the same for you, or give you otherwise a bit of a clean-up. Not, uh, that you need it, or if that's too awkward to ask about...."
"Sorry, Elite Guard. Special Operations branch under the Autobots who worked under a different chain of command. We're a lot like the Wreckers, only we answer directly to our Prime. I joined up so I could make sure I was always able to keep an optic on Optimus, while havin' a bit more freedom than your typical enlisted Autobot. Plus we get a cooler badge," he finished, tapping the winged insignia on his chassis. "Even ran a unit of my own."
Jazz let his field change momentarily, something that Cassandra wouldn't be able to sense herself, but it was certainly something similiar to 'the air in the room changed'. He made his way back over to the neck of his electro bass and picked it up in one servo, focusing his attention on it.
"Ya put my species on too high of a pedastool, Cassandra. I hate to tell ya, we're just like any other sentient being, probably worse cause we've had a lot longer to screw around. It's a place built off the backs of the oppressed who were ruled by the corrupted. They're why I hate medics so much."
Jazz looked her way over his shoulder, turning slightly.
"I should get goin', unless ya got somethin' else for me?"
Post by Cassandra Cassidy on Sept 1, 2023 20:21:57 GMT -5
She might not have sensed the change in his field, but she didn't have to. The cold, straightforward way he described Cybertron and his hatred of medics was enough to tell Butch she'd stepped on something. The little cleaner resisted the urge to flinch when he looked at her, silently cursing herself for her gushing.
Great job, you idiot. Go and fetishize his culture like that, why don't you.
"Ah, no, I don't need anything," Butch said lightly. "Thank you for, um...answering my questions. I appreciate the chance to learn." There, that was all she was going to say. The cleaner turned away away and busied herself with some specks of dust that she'd just noticed on the nearby counter. She awkwardly swiped her bad hand down the side of the counter, the scar framed by her glove flashing into view. Noting how silly this probably looked after a few movements, the cleaner went and searched beneath the counter for some cleaning items.
Jazz didn't say anything else on the matter. Did he feel bad that he'd let himself slip like that? A bit, but it was a truth that no one really had the nerve to say aloud. Jazz had been there, done that, got the shirt and could have done without the rest. Best the humans understand early on that Cybertron was not a perfect little planet that only got the way it did because of the war.
There was a reason Megatron was able to rise to power.
"No problem. Have a good one." With electro bass neck in hand, Jazz turned and made his way out of the room to head back to his own quarters. For such a small hideaway in the middle of nowhere, Nevada, it was a wonder he hadn't bumped into anyone on the way back. Then again, with the way things were? It was probably safer.
Back in his room, settled in his berth, Jazz dimmed his visor and silently returned to listening to some of the music in his stash.