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.
Well, no, actually it was a really tall cave full of junk he’d gutted from the POS, but it was the vision and the imagination that counted really. Sideswipe gestured grandly to all the sheets of cut metal, poly-crystal, massive piles of wiring, tables, and benches obviously unbolted from the floors of a ship. It was mostly a mess, not bar, but Sideswipe had accomplished the most difficult task of bolting Sunstreaker’s Starry Night repaint on the wall above what would one day be the bar, and got the ex-gen distillery up and running smoothly. The overhead running lights were a bit dim, but he had a couple fusion globes left from the ship storage room and, in truth, he could nav with sensors alone if he had to.
The lambo-bot bent down next to a crate, snapping it open and pulling a couple opaque cubes from inside, setting them aside for a moment before snapping the locker closed again. “Dis place gonna be worth bare credits, innit. Once it’s up an’ goin’. Moonshot’s settin’ th’ sound system but mech keeps bitchin’ ‘bout acoustics.” He switched to Italian, turning around, fired blue optics burning bright, all aglow with excitement. “What do you think? Alien bar. It’s like Star Wars or something for you, isn’t it? Mad wicked, yeah?”
From Catherine's perch on Sideswipe's shoulder (it'd become about as natural and routine as Cleaver's palm), she had a perfect view of the entire dimly lit cave. Moonshot's first touches of getting things prepped to set up were obvious, and, while she maybe didn't know Sideswipe's exact plan, she could definitely get a feel for this place buzzing. The capturing piece was Starry Night over there along a wall all its own, and she took her time to stare at it while taking a new position on the crate so he could more easily move.
"It's epic! You're gonna have a blast in this place. Looks like you're already enjoin' it." She flashed a grin up at Sideswipe to share the excitement, cheeks bunching under her glasses (aqua blue today) as she did. "Once Moonshot gets the music up and runnin' it will be like Star Wars…"
She did a little turn, absently noting the cubes (they were about as big as her…) as her eyes swept the rest of it. She doubted she'd be able to do anything to help progress, unless Moonshot needed to get into a tight space or Sideswipe needed something scrubbed. But she could be here for support, at least. In a weird way, it reminded her of Tony, bringing an odd little smile to her face. But she left it about as quick as it'd come.
“Well, there’s still some debate as ta th’ size an’ th’ spread,” said Sidewipe, dropping hands on his hips and beaming around the room , all resplendent and full of junk and raw scrap material. He glanced sidelong at Cat, the human balanced on his shoulder and so sure-footed to him that he no longer fretted that the little squishable was going to plummet off his shoulder to her bone-breaking, body-splattering death. Point of fact, Cat was becoming the sentient being on base he actually spoke with most, Cleaver having become this almost… alien entity to him since the reveal about her background and condition. And Moonshot being a spazzy little twitcher buried in his weird little world all day, peering out at him from the dark space that was his headspace like he was rudely shining a flashlight on what was normally a nocturnal entity.
“But the idea is, I think, the main bar will be outta th’ Atrium. Bar itself, doe, gonna wrap out inta da big cave. Prolly gonna bother a mech in the Bot Brigade for their expertise if they lookin’ ta waste some time,” he said, looking back over the mess, ignoring the strange press of weirdness in the back of his brain module. The one that said, Sunstreaker would have a few words about this place. More’n a few. He crossed the room to the ex-gen distiller – three tall poly-crystaline cylinders, glowing slightly, full of liquid high-grade. He knocked on the first one, yellowish, the fuel inside briefly flashing at the vibration.
“Home-brew that. Ex-gen distillery keeps this stuff energized. Just like da ones back on Cybertron. Dis ting’s the real deal. Pulled straight out mine and Streaker’s cruiser, innit.”
"Good God, Sideswipe's 'home-brew'. What I wouldn't give to be able to try some of that." Whether or not she was being sarcastic or… completely serious was uncertain. A bit of both seemed to be mixed together in equal parts (okay maybe she was a bit more serious than she should be) as she tried to imagine just what drinking High-grade would feel like. Same or similar to alcohol? Did you get a quick buzz? Like an electric charge? Was it like Rotgut times ten (Side's stuff, maybe…)
Damn if his energy wasn't infectious, making her brain buzz with excitement for seeing this place live and up and in action. She leaned against his shoulder guard slightly with a hip, to be able to move if he did but take some of the weight off while still being able to keep her balance. "How long y'think 'fore the place is up and running?" But there was clearly something else behind that comment… so rather than hide it, she went ahead and let it out. "Anything a wee little human can help with?"
“Well, ya won’t be bouncin’ any bots outta here any time soon,” said Sideswipe, crouching down at the base of the exgen distillery and pulling a panel open. “Still a few months before this place is ready ta see any real visitors. Doesn’t mean that I can’t use dem extra eyes ‘round tha bar. Tell me quick when some bots thinkin’ ‘bout goin’ savage. That’ll be ace.”
The wiring spit a few grumpy sparks at him. There were still a few kinks to work out as to the powerlevels and wiring up the systems for their generator. He produced several tools from his subspace and started tweaking a few of the feeds along the interior beside the power converter. The kick-kick of Cat’s heels against the front of his shoulder guard was a familiar rhythm at this point, to the level that he would have frowned it if wasn’t going on. He was sefl-aware enough to acknowledge that he was coping. This was him coping. He had a pattern to his coping mechanisms, like the starting sequence to an old engine and he was aware of what he was doing.
"Oooh, a professional squealer AND a model. I am flattered and enthused." Not entirely sarcastic. Though her voice did remain quiet, there was an obvious note of amusement, an audible smile, in there somewhere. "And to think Nonna said my good looks and charm wouldn't carry me through life."
When he lowered and settled, so did she, draping one of her legs over the front of his guard, and the other coming up to support under her chin. The soft kick-kick continued as she let her foot swing, accompanied by patting his armor with a hand. "So. I get to keep my own stash. Right? It's an awful long walk back to the shuttle… and if there's ever occasion in a bar-like, like… now, I'd hate to miss out on celebratory drinks." Another excited tap on his shoulder. "We should toast to the bar later!"
“Hell, I been toasting myself an’ my damn cleverness all night, fam.”
He glanced up from the connectors he was rewiring, a grin splitting the alloy of his face sidelong. Humans were weird. Well, most fleshy species were weird but humans were also uniquely weird. Example: the fact that humans did, actually, throw a readable EM field. I mean, it wasn’t like a real honest to Primus Cybertronian electromagnetic field that crackled around the frame, radiating the intricate mechanizations of a bot’s mood as surely as a facial tic or a lift of doorwings, a smile gone too fast. Human energy was… a blur really. It barely registered and it didn’t mean anything, they didn’t communicate that way. Not consciously maybe.
But there was that ghost of static off Cat’s palm when she patted his armor to get his attention.
“Aint ever needed occasion for that. But if ya wanna give me excuses ta inebriate myself, I kin def do dat for ya, Kit-Cat.”
Last Edit: Sept 12, 2012 18:13:23 GMT -5 by Deleted
"As long as you don't squish me in a drunken stupor…" She said, grinning when the blue of his optics reflected her direction. She'd never get used to that, in the best way. "…I'll toast to your [i[damn cleverness[/i], too."
But she could sense Tony somewhere in the back of her mind, because of course, all special occasions needed wine or alcohol, and any occasion could be a special occasion. So the first bar of the first Neutral base on Earth? Big toast. BIG toast. "But this is exciting! Why not? Tony'd say a traditional salute would be appropriate." Catherine beamed at that (though maybe more tame now than it had been) equally excited and pleased to be able to mention a family tradition: To pick something cool that happened in the day and toast to it.
“Whazzat?” said Sides, sitting down, legs crossed, to get comfortable for what was looking to be a rewiring that would take him a bit. He checked the energy levels in the middle tank, frowned, disconnected a few wires and produced a few spare parts from his sub-space.
Cat’s immediate, intermediate, and extended family were of more than some interest to Sideswipe on the grounds they seemed to occupy a disproportionate amount of the human’s thoughts, conversation, and anecdotes in the same way that Sunstreaker tended to occupy his. The difference was the sheer numbers, though. For a human he was thinking that the number of relatives she knew, could name, and tell him stories about was much higher than average. And despite her threats to murder, maim, and stuff their bodies in suitcases, Cat seemed to genuinely love her extended family.
This was, of course, of interest to him because his ‘family’ had been…
“I’m not doing some weird-ass human custom.Better be normal, cuz. Ain’t getting’ talked into some DDR bollocks again.”
Last Edit: Sept 13, 2012 20:42:41 GMT -5 by Deleted
It was comforting. In some way that literally made her pause and stare for a minute, the expression kind of freezing rather than changing over, like a mental hiccup. It was comforting to talk about them. Not that she hadn't before, but… just felt like it'd been a while. And made her both realize the ache and ease the ache at once.
She blinked herself back, folding her legs down to sit up straight, using her hands to emphasize whatever the heck she was saying as she often did. "It's definitely not unless one of the uncles drinks too much. You already know it, salute, it's just toasting. 'Cheers'. Literally raising your glass to drink to health, or whatever. The phrasing varies depending on the situation, though, so… some of Tony's friends say prosit- may it be good. Not very common, though, kind of a very… high-class type thing, you know? Cin cin or salute is more common. My cousins, though… alla goccia." She grinned, letting herself giggle. And though she knew he could understand the Italian meaning, she went ahead. "Something like 'to the last drop', 'drinking it all at once' in English."
"It's…" She started again, realizing that was only part of what it was; at least as what she grew up to know it as. "At least in my family, was like just marking that moment, whatever it was, in our history somewhere." Her once drifting tones suddenly fell flat. "That and there's a winery in the family; we drink like fish."
Last Edit: Sept 13, 2012 21:30:32 GMT -5 by Deleted
“Allow it, cuz,” said Sideswipe amicably and almost dismissive. Another spit of sparks flared from the wires as he fused, twined, and re-socketed a pair of connectors. The smell of hot metal and the acrid burn of the alloy fusing was pervasive for a moment before, more for Cat’s courtesy than his, he blew the smoke away before leaning back to inspect the line of cooling metal. So much of this thing was just not geared to work apart from the main body of the ship part of it been been entirely pulled apart and put back together that were never meant to be. Any still, by sheer force of will, Sideswipe was making it work.
Sheer force of will born of needing to keep busy.
“When this place opens up. First Cybertronian bar opened on planet Earth, better have a human salute for it.”
It'd give her a reason to visit him again, she thought. And bring them with her when she went. For the moment, she entertained that idea in the back of her mind, where real life dangers and precautions wouldn't affect it. (Not like that'd stop her…)
"Yeah?" She let her folded knees bounce, partially to give the energy behind her grin somewhere else to go besides her face. The excitement of sharing traditions was something Tony had instilled since before she could remember. "Sounds like a plan." And because real life dangers and precautions still didn't apply to brainstorming… she felt perfectly fine voicing said certain ideas.
"You should come with me to Italy sometime to visit... can't have a proper Bravocci salute without our wine, anyway." She piped after some pause for smoke and sparks. "Moonshot's going to go to pick out a new alt mode there, eventually…" Sure, Moonie didn't HAVE to go just to pick out an alt mode, but why not make that an occasion, too? And it wouldn't be nearly as uncomfortable as.. say.. a mall. She made sure to voice as much, and hit on points that she thought might just be appealing. "It's not too crowded where we'd be going, ya know, so you could just chill …Open country roads, kinda off the map 'n stuff." She raised her brows above her glasses, nudging Side's with her foot lazily as if to inspire enthusiasm. "Huh? Pret-ty cool plaaaace…"
Sides didn’t look up from where he was carefully re-insulating a connector, optics fixed intently upon his work. “Dis how you askin’ me ta meet yur family, cuz?” He grinned, smirking at the still hot metal, expression becoming mock-bland and disinterested. “Because I be real fuckin’ aggro if ya mad cousins try’n high jack me for joy ridin’. Pure bad that’ll be for they peace of mind if I hit two hundred mile per hour an’ they lose consciousness an’ end up on th’ side’a road somewhere in Italy. Just sayin’.”
He looked away from his work to arch a brow ridge at the human on his shoulder. “Course, open country roads an’ European speed limits seem like a proper vacation, innit. An’ I ain’t been ta Italy since...” We decided on our alt modes and Sunstreaker bitched me out for literally three days about my color choice. “…it’s been a while.”
"Yeah." She let it linger, a side of her mouth pulling up just slightly. 'Been about four, huh?' It seemed so short a time in comparison, but she felt as if she'd aged decades in that time period. As if it'd been decades since she'd seen anyone other than her mother. Since she'd seen Tony or heard more than a phone call.
And all at once her tone dropped again, the play back in her eyes. "But no. I am inviting you to visit my home. …Maybe Tony, but only because he knows… everything. He'd end up meeting us anyway. No cousins, though. Hell no. And if any of them do, drop them like you said; they need a bitch slap every now and again."
Cat tilted her head at him, resting her cheek on her shoulder. "Just a suggestion, though. Might be a good chance for you to stretch out a bit, but, it's not like I won't have a ride if you hang back when I go." '…Eventually…' But she was sure her little rusted ol' Justy still had some kick to it… Nevermind she hadn't driven the thing since she'd finally saved it from Moonshot's eye. …Might have been kinder just to let him blow it to pieces.
There was a silence for a moment, uncharacteristic in the timing while Sideswipe focused instead on the what he was doing. Engex was funny stuff. Getting it to distill properly took an instinct that, apparently, he had for whatever reason. Though, this would be the first time he tried his hand at this without Sunstreaker around to look over his shoulder and coldly point out everything he was fucking up with the distilling process, which Sunstreaker didn’t actually do himself but somehow had an artist’s knack for detail and managed, somehow, to always catch him at doing something wrong.
So as he smooth the wiring and adjusted the fuel circulation in the machine, he wondered what this first batch was going to taste like.
“Eventually,” said Sides, in strangely sober Italian. He closed the panel he’d had open and latched it. He stared at the back of his hand for a moment, pressed flat against the side of the distillery metal. “Not for a bit anyway.” He smoothed his palm over the door latch a second, then stood up, rolling his unoccupied shoulder a bit. “Someday, Kit-Cat.” He did not look over his shoulder toward the side hall, toward medical. He kept his goze forward. “We’ll all go together.”
Last Edit: Sept 18, 2012 10:27:20 GMT -5 by Deleted