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.
((OOC: I'm... not entirely sure where this goes, timeline-wise? Halp. ^_^;;; ))
Nurse Darby had been very helpful. Thanks to her Rhinox had acquired a small specimen of Echinocereus mojavensis, the Mojave Kingcup cactus. It was too late in the year to see it flower, but in the datapad he'd left with the cactus, Rhinox had made sure to mention the bright red flowers Fairwinds would get to see if she kept it alive until early spring.
And he waited. He tended his garden, including the Kingcup if necessary, but it was rarely necessary. He didn't meet up with Fairwinds again, but he saw signs of her presence now that he knew what to look for. Scratch marks here and there, mostly. The occasional scorch mark on a rock wall where, presumably, she'd been shooting at a bug. But for some reason they kept missing each other. On one hand, Rhinox knew that was safest for both of them. On the other - the anticipation was kind of driving him crazy.
But his flowers still needed tending, so Rhinox finished up his work and went through the groundbridge again, into the baking desert sun and his little ravine - cautiously, in case Fairwinds was waiting for him. Or any of her associates.
The unlikely gardener was already quite absorbed in tending her prized possession, her back to the groundbridge as the portal closed again after Rhinox. Fairwinds warmed her blasters, flicked a scan over the mech, cooled her systems and went right back to work. Her vocaliser sang on regardless of what her beak was doing.
"Inch by inch, row by row, Gonna make this garden grow. Gonna mulch it deep and low, Gonna make it fertile ground."
She had brought her Cactus Detailing kit, cobbled together with equipment from her own minor repair pack and her vast collection of things scavenged and stolen from the planet. A cassette-size soft filament brush with an angled head, designed to sweep between micro-components and remove minute shavings and grit, was waiting to one side whilst she prepared the area.
She'd never had much use for the garden rake other than dropping things on its teeth and delighting in the noise it made. Combing the sand around the stubby plant's base had turned out to be quite satisfying, quietly focusing her otherwise flighty processor.
"Pullin' weeds and pickin' stones, We are made of dreams and bones. Need a place to call my own, 'Cause the time is close at hand."
Holding the handle near its base in her beak, Fairwinds dragged it around the Kingcup in slow, methodical sweeps. The sand was constantly shifting stones and dead pieces of vegetation, and the cassette did not tolerate rocks near her beauty. Each time the teeth turned up a pebble, she set the rake aside and tossed it clear with her beak.
"Inch by inch, row by row, Gonna make this garden grow. Gonna mulch it deep and low, Gonna make it fertile ground."
Fairwinds had read that talking to plants made them grow better, and singing was definitely even better.
Rhinox relaxed, smiling. Fairwinds was absorbed in her garden, working with a focus and diligence that would have done any gardener proud, and singing without a trace of selfconsciousness. It was kind of... adorable. That was the word. And the Kingcup was looking healthy as ever.
Rhinox flicked only a quick cursory scan over the area before moving to join her in work. Scopes clear, skies clear, all sensors turning up green and safe. For now, it was just two people and their plants, with no war to divide them. Rhinox intended to keep it that way.
As far as Fairwinds was aware.
"Where's the song from?" he asked, kneeling to scan his sunrays. They bobbed at him, cheerful and healthy.
"Youtube." Fairwinds didn't look up again from her work, painstakingly dragging the teeth of the rake around the cactus as if it were a zen garden.
"I was looking for things to talk to Spiney about, cuz I read a thing that said talking to plants makes them grow better, and I can't talk to her about Master or the Nemesis or anything back home because you might have bugged the chokecherries and then I'd be a traitor and get kicked out of the clubhouse cuz of talking to my secret cactus and then I'd get shot in the face."
The cassette paused in her prattling to set the rake aside and start flicking pebbles and flecks of dried plant matter from around Spikey's base. "Buuut, I read another thing that said that music was better, and I asked Spiney what she liked from my collection and I didn't understand what she said, so I looked for generic happy-garden-growing songs and now I have lots and look how pretty she is!" She hopped around to regard Rhinox (and no doubt his expression of awe, astonishment and envy) properly. "Totally working."
It was, she had been taught, polite to let the other participant in a social interaction get a word in edgeways. Unless they outranked her and were prone to violence, of course. Fairwinds cocked her head at a right angle and pondered what she could say to initiate a dialogue with Rhinox.
How was your day? Lame. And he might have been helping to plan a raid or something, so couldn't answer, so would shut down the conversation.
Your armor looks like it could use a wax. No. Just... Ew, no.
You and your friends been enjoying my gummies that you stole from our ship when you busted in and slagged the Eradicons and fragged us so bad we were on the toughest rations in vorns, you goodie-goodie fucknuts? ... Maybe later.
In the end, Fairwinds pointed one wing towards her cactus detailing kit. "I have a rake. I want a shed for my rake."
Rhinox was facing his sunrays; it made it easier to hide a wince. Part of him was being hit with an anvil of guilt for the whole plan of milking Fairwinds for information. Windy, remember to call her Windy. She'll wonder how I learned her real name otherwise. The other was thinking, slag, bugging the chokecherries, that's genius. I should have thought of that. Except he wouldn't put it in the chokecherries. He'd probably bury it along with some other plant.
A third part wanted to ask, would they really shoot you for being a victim of a spying attempt? He decided he didn't want to know the answer.
He moved on from the sunrays; they were doing fine, weeds notwithstanding. Pausing close enough to see Windy's cactus, he offered, "She is looking very healthy. You've got a knack for gardening, Windy." It was true, every word. Spiney was vibrant green and shining with waxy cactus-good-health, and Rhinox measured at least half a centimeter's worth of height increase from the last time he'd checked. "The singing is definitely helping."
He thought he'd stick to talking to his plants, though. His singing voice was atrocious.
Fairwinds nodded to acknowledge the obvious statement, beaming with pride at Spiney.
She hopped 180 when the amiable silence drew out to the point of strange, regarding Rhinox's turned backplates. He was clearly putting a lot of effort into showing her that he trusted her not to murder or kidnap him. It was rather brave of the Autobot, actually, given who her carrier was.
The thought of Megatron made her think of how much he would disapprove of her playing with organics and Autobots like this. No doubt he would tell her she was a traitor to the cause for not using this opportunity to the Decepticon's advantage. Barricade would call her an idiot and scrape the gunk out of the Eradicons' washrack with her face before welding her to the deck.
It sent a scandalous little thrill through her. She would use Rhinox to further the cause. Just not yet. For now, Fairwinds was keeping the Autobot gardener and Spiney to herself.
Scurrying across the tiny stones and dusty earth to Rhinox, the cassette bumped her helm against his foot spur. "I didn't know you 'bots had hobbies outside of the pet humans. Does anyone else come out here and with garden you? Or do they think you're weird for being a gardener? Back home they'd think I was weird. If I told. Weird and dirty even though I decontaminate every time I go back, cuz Primus forbid I bring back a plant spore and it mutates and takes over the ship and it turns into an alien leaf pod."
She looked up the mountainous terrain of Rhinox's body through the very tops of her optical crystals. Her beak parts were turned up in a smile. "Or like 'Day of the Trffids'. We watched that at movie night last week. Double feature with 'Predator'. It was funny and awesome. The Raddies are quoting it all the time."
The cassette's head-bump elicited a chuckle from Rhinox. He probably should have shuttered his backplates in defensiveness, but he couldn't have done that without looking defensive. Jazz could have, probably, but he wasn't Jazz. ...It only occurred to him after the fact, anyway. He didn't think he'd mention that in his report.
"I've seen the movie," he admitted. "It was an experience." Especially with Airazor and Rattrap watching with him, all of them up far too late and making vicious mockery of the fuzzy science and entertainingly awful acting. There may have been goodies thrown at the screen, but Rattrap ate all the evidence, so it officially didn't happen.
"I'm the only gardener," he added in answer to Windy's question. "But I don't think anyone thinks I'm weird for it. Everyone has hobbies of their own - multiple ones in some cases." He decided against naming specific ones, though he thought the odds of Megatron defeating the Autobots via video games was slim. "I think my hobby is appreciated, really. I'm adding to our knowledge base, and it's certainly a quiet activity that doesn't result in any trouble or our medic shouting at us."
Data: Fairwinds hasn't told anyone about me. Yet.
"It's highly unlikely your ship would be taken over by a plant, by the way," he added. "Plants need the light of the Earth's sun to grow. Unless you have special lamps, you can't grow plants where there's no sunlight." He thought. "You could grow fungus without light, though. If you had fertilizer, but you'd need that for a plant anyway. ...That probably doesn't put your mind at ease. Sorry."
"I've pretty much given up on the idea of having anything alive on the ship that's mine," Fairwinds replied heavily, padding ahead to the plant that Rhinox was currently tending to. She circled around (and partially through) it, then plopped down alongside in its shadow as if waiting to lay. "Lord Megatron doesn't like anything organic on-board."
She recalled Starscream's squishy specimen, wishing that she'd met it before the Autobots came and stole it away. Soledad had very very popular amongst the Eradicons, and been instrumental in the necessity of a black market for human-paraphernalia. They missed her but were also relieved that she was no longer suffering Starscream as a caretaker and observer. Once Megatron had found out about the whole affair, he'd declared the whole thing a debacle and banned on-site organic experimentation. If Starscream wanted to learn about humans, he could do it like everyone else of that bent: with the internet.
The cassette watched Rhinox's large and skillfully gentle hands work, crest plates flared in mild interest. "As hobbies go," she went on, "this is pretty alien. I mean, there's loads of cool native stuff like comics and seesaws and monster truck rallies and wind chimes and video games to have as hobbies that are clean and similar to stuff we had on Cybertron. Making plants come out of seeds and bulbs and trees that can grow so big and old that things'll go extinct before they die is weird. But I think I like it."
A little wriggle disturbed the soil and allowed the cassette to sit inside a warm sort of dip. She flicked out an exposed rock with her beak.
"Like you. You're weird and a stupid Autobot, but I like you." Fairwinds craned her neck out to look back at Spiney, humming a happy note. "And I really like Spiney and looking after her."
After hearing what Soledad had gone through, Rhinox was relieved to hear Megatron's position on bringing organics to the ship. It was a mercy on the warlord's part. ...Though of course he would be horribly insulted if Rhinox put it to him like that.
He chuckled. "Thank you, Windy. I like you too. And I'm glad you like Spiney." He kept at his work, keeping half an optic on Fairwinds as she rested in the shade. "I think I like gardening because it is so alien. This is something I never would have had the opportunity to do back on Cybertron." He sat back to survey his work, thinking. "I suppose crystal gardening comes close," he admitted. "But that's more like... applied chemistry. Even a growing crystal isn't alive, not really."
"Really?" Fairwinds sounded genuinely puzzled, eyeing Rhinox with a squint. "Cuz they seem the same to me. Yeah, plants are squishy organic lifeforms that will liquify into goo when they die, and crystals have macroscopic geometrical shapes that don't defend on fuzzy insects to propagate, but as lifeform stratum go, they're both in the same sphere. They grow and we can control them. Neither of them are conscious."
The cassette hastily got to her feet. Excited, she glyphed the equivalent of 'here Imma explain you a thing', moving away a little to a clear area of dry earth. Mindful enough of the garden's fragility not to use her laser, she began sketching out a set of concentric circles. Her buzzing conveyed only a (large) percentage of how pleased she was to be 'teaching' Rhinox something.
"This here, see-" she pointed her clawed toes into the innermost circle- "is Primus and Unicron, right? All powerful, transcended the physical plane, and way cool."
Fairwinds jabbed at the next circle. "And this is us. Cybertronian and, at the edges, associated lifeforms, running on the lifeblood of our gods. We can outlive anything in the known universe, have evolved to survive in almost any environment, and we're super smart, too. Massive world-ending war aside or taken, we've made a memorable impact on the universe."
A slide into the next ring. "Next," she drawled, dragging her beak about the circumference of the third circle, "are the energy-based lifeforms. Incorporeal, weird, and I don't really know much else about them. Could be omnipotent space plankton for all we know."
Fourth circle. "Then comes sentient organic lifeforms. They can be pretty smart'n'all, but they still depend on developing technology like what comes natural to us to do even a fraction of the things we do. Interstellar travel is harder when you'll boil if exposed in space. They also die quick and rot and leave a disgusting mess behind."
Hopping to stand outside of the display, Fairwinds jabbed at the outermost ring. "Finally we've got non-sentient lifeforms. They grow, replicate and expire. That's it. Anything notable that the do, like the Tanafax crystal gorge or Spiney's future flowers, are just a byproduct of what they do mindlessly that we happen to appreciate as cognizant beings. So, same strata of lifeform, different molecular makeup."
Tutorial complete, Fairwinds went to retrieve her rake and clear away the diagram.
What a... strangely stratified way of looking at existence.
Rhinox sat back as Fairwinds erased her diagram, contemplating how to respond. Unintentionally or not, Fairwinds had shown him the bedrock of her entire worldview, and while he couldn't imagine it was valuable intelligence it was startlingly revealing. Trying to argue Fairwinds around to a more equitable worldview would be an exercise in futility at best. No doubt the Layers Theory of Life, The Universe, And Everything was meticulously reinforced in the Decepticon Army, and why shouldn't it be? It put Cybertronians, Fairwinds included, squarely at the top of the "intrinsic worth and dignity" scale, or near enough. How miraculously convenient for us.
So Rhinox wouldn't argue. But he couldn't pretend to agree. "Even if that's true," he responded slowly, "going back to crystals versus plants, I'm still not sure they should be placed in the same category. Crystals are given materials they need to grow, they do not seek it out either actively or passively. Their growth can be controlled and guided, much like domesticated plants, but there are many varieties of plant on this planet that cannot be controlled. And there is one other way plants are not like crystals, and are very much like you and me, and Megatron and Optimus Prime, and energy beings and humans for that matter." He reached out, stroked a finger gently over a petal of one of his sunrays. "We all can die."
The correction was flat and crisp, and Fairwinds remained motionless a second longer just watching the Autobot before continuing to drag the rake through the diagram. It was a tiny barb on the enormous scale of differences between them, but one that rankled her intimately enough to not let slide.
She considered her master's title as integral to his identity as the Autobot commander's, though more significant in her view as 'Prime' had been bestowed onto an archivist. Lord Megatron's title was attained after clawing up a heap of corrupted bodies and lies from the deepest holes in Cybertron: self-awarded but doubtless earned.
Fairwinds stopped at the last corner of the diagram and stood the rake up, setting a foot on its teeth to keep it upright. She cocked her head at the scrawled grooves. "I think you're right about the plants and crystals. I need another ring, or maybe some shading? Then it could be in our category to differentiate between Cybertronians and Insecticons and scraplets. Yeah, I think that's right."
A ripple of tension, of denial-grief-anger-pain, passed through Rhinox's field before he could begin to hide it. He didn't call attention to it, didn't look at Fairwinds until it passed, along with the urge to simply stand up and walk away from her. On my spark, I will never call that mech Lord. Not even for this mission. Not even for my garden.
The moment passed - it helped that Fairwinds' attention span was short. Rhinox tilted his head to observe the changes in Fairwinds' diagram. "Probably," he agreed without conviction. "As far as our knowledge extends."
The cassette met the flat reply with equally subdued quiet. "Yeah." Fairwinds shuffled a little on her pedes, finding Rhinox's unease as contagious as his good cheer.
They were, inescapably, on opposing sides, with different ideals and goals. Though they were tentatively meeting on non-hostile ground in this garden, their hobbies cautious in each others' company, Fairwinds was very aware that this was not a real neutral site. If Rhinox decided to take a cue from June Derby and stuff her in a box, there were no Order enforces to kick his aft and get her out again. Equally, there was no reason for him to trust that he would not be bot-napped and taken to the Nemesis for interrogation other than her own word. The information that could be gleaned passively did not weigh up with those risks, and it was only personal satisfaction and pleasure that was seeing her pursue this peculiar 'friendship'.
If the winds changed, however, Fairwinds would much rather it be her who caught Rhinox off-guard with the first act of aggression than him. She needed to lull him into a deeper sense of security for that: to keep this going as long as possible and gain as much intelligence as possible before she made her move.
And she would. It wasn't like it was a problem that he was really nice or anything...
Some completely useless intelligence would sweeten the pot for him. Fairwinds finished erasing the diagram and set the rake down, stepping up to perch on its handle just above the ground. Her shadow was a long, vulture-like shape across the sand and stone that she couldn't help but admire.
"We used to think that the Eradicons were on-par with the Insecticons." She glanced to Rhinox before going back to weaving and bobbing her head, watching her shadow follow. "Not sentient, just drones mass-produced in the creches. But since the Exodus they've been becoming self aware, and it's happening at a faster rate here around Earth. Breakdown reckons it's all the alien stimuli that's doing it. I think it's evolution."
Fairwinds straightened as tall as she could make herself and slowly spread her wings. Her shadow looked nothing less than fantastic and fearsome.
Rhinox tilted his head, giving the question due consideration - and hiding his amusement at Fairwinds' playing with her shadow. That Eradicons were achieving sentience was old news, when some of them boasted and threatened Autobots in battle as easily as their sparked peers, but it might be useful to know how the Decepticons were dealing with the phenomenon. "I think it's worth further research," he offered. "Spontaneous self-awareness in drone frames isn't unheard of, but it's poorly studied. I would start with careful observation of what stimuli the sentient Eradicons seem to be drawn to, including interviewing them directly if you can find someone who doesn't scare them to do it. Fear of the researcher tends to skew results," he added with a wan smile.
"After that... well, you live on a ship, I don't know how feasible any of this is." Rhinox sat down in the dust to ruminate properly. "But if you find yourself with enough space, you could separate groups of nonsentient Eradicons and expose them to different stimuli - music, art, whatever the sentient ones respond to," he added quickly, in case 'stimuli' could be interpreted as 'pain'. "And one with no stimuli, as a control - they should only interact with each other and their commanders. Over time, if Breakdown's theory is correct, the stimuli groups should achieve sentience faster than the control group. If that doesn't happen, if none of them achieve sentience or the control group achieves it roughly on par with the other groups, your theory may be the correct one."
He caught himself, paused, gave Fairwinds an apologetic smile. "That's just a very rough idea. There are probably variables I haven't thought of."