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.
Moonshot already had a rave cave full of half-finished projects to occupy his admittedly-scattered attention, but Cleaver had a real talent for turning his priority list on its head. Wire-stripping, sound-checks and fussing over paint all took a backseat to celebratory songwriting, especially when hard timelines were introduced to the equation. If he couldn't give Cleaver's bitlet something as real, as concrete as safety, he could at least give hir a song.
"...I'm not sure whether I'm more terrified of him laughing at it or him offering pointers," Shot admitted quietly, absently worrying a patch of paint stuck to his servo. Nevermind the fact that it would take an acid bath and tweezers to get the rest of it out- any distraction was a good distraction as far as he was concerned. "Not sure my ego could handle either alternative.
And because that particular train of thought lead nowhere good in a great slagging hurry, Shot derailed it and shimmied further into the oasis of concentrated good-mood that was Cleaver's field. His ego was already doomed by way of Sideswipe mockery anyway; what was one more display of 'look at me' in the grand scheme of things?
"What can I do to help you? Apart from not blast music at awful hours, I mean." A pause, then- "...and not fret my aft off."
Cleaver shunted a laugh, relieved that Moonshot had redirected himself off the topic of Sideswipe's caustic tongue. The sniper didn't quite get Sideswipe, and with Moonshot's determination to avoid conflict by means of avoiding everyone, there was a chance he never would. There was no way to understand the Twins other than to spend time and build up a tolerance to their sharp attitudes and sharper words.
And that was Moonshot's business to overcome. Cleaver had no desire to nanny-bot him.
"Nothing much - it's all in servo," she replied to the (latest) fussing mech. "Trying not to fret yourself to glitching would be nice, though. And don't worry about the music. I like music."