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: Set at the very end of the inter-episode period, introducing Waspinator. Any Decepticon who might have been stuck on ditch-digging duty is welcome to come in.>>
It was officially phrased as 'reclamation duty', but more commonly referred to as 'ditch digging' by the Earth-savvy Eradicons. Excavating long buried Cybertronians for parts was a rung beneath recovering the debris from a battle site, and reserved for Decepticons who had been slacking off in their duties, insubordinate even by Decepticon standards, or simply in the wrong place at the wrong time (which was usually in fallout range of one of Megatron's or Starscream's conniptions).
The sites of these excavations was rarely anything but horrendous. On this occasion, it was a glacier within which several Cybertronian frames had been detected.
There were no enforcers to ensure that the work was done or that anyone would attempt to escape, simply because there was nowhere to go and nothing to do but work until their Lord was appeased enough via Soundwave's reports to open a 'bridge for them. The highest ranked of the damned automatically assumed control of the group, though it wasn't always obvious which individual that was.
Officers didn't often get put on reclamation - Megatron had more refined techniques to dealing with mechas like Starscream and Airachnid.
<<OOC: Tag to anyone who wants to help dig up a giant wasp!>>
Jetfire’s dentals ground together. He’d hoped to never reach these parts of the globe ever again. It was vorn too soon for him to be anywhere near this temperature, and the sight of ice was though to make this backstruts tingle with black tension. It was almost insult to injury knowing he was digging up remnants of fallen within the glacier. This could easily have been himself… his explorer protocols were rather useful in this case… not everyone was outfitted for deep space or the terrors of uexpected weather as he was… and even Jetfire’s own spark had almost been extinguished by the circumstances.
The old mech chose his footing carefully, taking pains to set his pedes properly. The tiniest slip sent jagged waves or terror through his EMF. It was ridiculous. He muttered his way across the ice, berating himself as he did his preliminary scanning. Carbon dating, weak points, structural integrity of the ice. The figures ran in his HUD and he sent the data to the irritable Eradicon placed under him. The Seeker could feel her scorn as he pinged figures at her, not bothering to organize them as he went and labeling them in his shorthand codec. He’d sent her a list of the abbreviations beforehand to deal with- he had his own-
He slipped.
There was a hiss between his dentals as Jetfire reeled. He pitched forward, codes flooding his processor as he paniced, and some components even clicked into place in preparation for transformation into altmode. It was almost as if his black box were reactivated, but in reverse. The ice looming in front of him, losing the heat from his excavation, the cold, the darkness. The darkness.
He came to his senses what seemed a whole vorn later. He was on a knee, supported by his arm servos. His optics darted around quickly, astounded that he wasn’t in stasis, or worse.
The Eradicon was staring at him oddly, a mixture of concern and annoyance drifting off her EMF like waves of heat.
If Jetfire had had the capacity, he would have flushed. He’d been doing his best to suppress his emotional trauma in front of the rest of excavation crew, but- “What are you looking at?” he barked, the screech of feedback making her flinch slightly. She was unimpressed. He patted the ground with his servo. “Here,” he growled, slowly, slowly getting back to his pedes. He ignored her as she shifted her glance away, obviously organizing his data streams, focusing on getting a footing as he pulled out his jackhammer. A klik later it was detached and he slammed it on the spot he’d touched. “Relay the data and we can start when we have the approval.” With a structure like this, it was imperative to get approval before moving on. One wrong move, one undetected cavern or change in substrate… the glacier could cause trouble for anyone standing on it.
Fairwinds came to perch on the other of Jetfire's shoulders than the one bearing the pickaxe, her negligible weight of no impact to the large Seeker. Not that the throttled cassette cared in the slightest what her landing upon his frame might do to his already precarious balance. She was freezing her sparkplugs off, and would take a great amount of energy to stop her from leeching warmth from someone else's vents.
It was not the first time the cassette had been put on this kind of punishment duty, but it was the first time she'd neglected her duties because of an organic garden that happened to be shared with an Autobot. Megatron had not pressed his line of questioning once she'd admitted to spending logged working hours planet side, only growled that as she enjoyed being on Earth so much that perhaps she ought to make herself useful at the same time.
So here she was: optics narrowed against the falling snow, plates puffed to keep as much warm air close to her frame as possible, and tuning out the grumbled titters of the Eradicons as they scuffeda about.
Fanning her tail stabilisers to direct the weak current of warm air across her undercarriage, Fairwinds tipped into Jetfire's collar fairing with a digitised chirp.
"Breakdowm confirms, and says it's the largest and probably most valuable grey frame in this glacier."
Of course the distant mech had not exactly said that, but it was the impression Fairwinds got.
"What do you think? Hack away at it with progreessively smaller tools like it's a dinosaur? "
There was a small breath of warm air on the inside of his collar strut, accompanied by the report. The warmth was quickly brushed away by an arctic breeze, doing nothing to help his mood. The pest of a cassette is probably the one who loosened his balance in the first place. He paused, pretending to consider the suggestion but in reality already set on his original plan.
“Valuable, maybe- but it’s still an offlined sparkcase. We’re wasting energon just standing here in his Primusforsaken cold.” There was a whining noise as his jackhammer readied, a small blip appearing in Jetfire’s optic HUD noting the temperature. He growled softly to himself, the static in his vocabulator giving it a particularly malevolent edge. “It’s scrapmetal. Deep scrapmetal, and if it gets scrapped a little during excavation it won’t be any less scrap than it already is.” He swung a mighty blow against the jackhammer and it rattled away, giving wallop after mighty wallop at the ice. Jetfire struggled to keep it at a nighty degree angle- keeping tabs on the purchase of his pedes on the ice while simultaneously holding onto his tool that was already fighting against the same surface wasunnerving. He let it go for about a dozen wallops before deactivating it. It left a crater of ground ice flakes and several new cracks spiderwebbing the ice under them. Jetfire grunted and paused to scan the area again, reevaluating his previous stability checks.
A red wing flared out overJetfire's collar faring, the slim tip plates knocking into his cheek. "Steady on, big mech." As Fairwinds spoke, three Eradicons moved in onto the shattered ice. "Let the guys pull their weight with the chunks now you've started it off."
This was the first time Fairwinds had actually spoken to the ancient (even by Cybertronian standards) Seeker. So far he was living up to his grumpy-plugs reputation, but then nobody was ever even remotely cheerful on tasks like this.
"So what're you down for?" she asked, hunkering down and watching the other mechs work. "I heard Ratbat was riding your aft, but last I checked datawork snaffs didn't get you on this slag. Unless, you know, you signed off something as Lord Megatron... That'd probably do it. "
Jetfire gave the cassette a look of someone who understood exactly what was being spoken about, but had no desire to admit it. “I don’t know what you mean,” he grumbled, vocabulator dripping with denial. He turned to give a disapproving look at an eradicon who’d slipped, but continued in a low voice. “I’m equipped for low grade excavation, so they assigned me. No politics here.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but the Seeker was quite certain that his little feud with Ratbat had something to do with it…
Jetfire’s voicebox crackled with static as he did the equivalent of clearing his throat. His vocabulator wasn’t the same since his own excavation. “I’m proud to serve,” he finished without a hint of pride in his voice. He turned his optics to Fairwinds, the red glow glancing off her frame, searching, interrogatory. “You, on the other servo, are poorly equipped for this excavation. Your thermal stabilizers are even having trouble keeping up in this environment.” He’d performed a scan on her to assure himself of it. It was a bad faux pas to have initiated a detailed scan at that level on the cassette, let alone to admit it. Still, if she was going to be cheeky, he may as well use his ornery reputation in his favor. Her presence on his shoulder irked him- any imbalance, even one as small and insignificant as hers worried his balance and he clung nervously to the ice he stood on with clawed pedes. “So perhaps I should ask what you are ‘down for’.” He held his stare pointedly, as if threatening to scan her again, straight down to the processors.
OOC: Not sure when we want to get around to actually finding Waspy…?
Oh yeah, definitely cranky. The cassette bristled a bit under the scan, her irritation freely broadcasted. Rather than huff or sulk, however, she straightened up with a grin.
"Slacking off," Fairwinds beamed, cartoonishly bright and perky. "Cuz I have friends. And a social life."
In lieu of a snap!, she tipped her head to one side with a chirp before hopping backwards off of the Seeker's shoulder. Wings flaring with a shiver, Fairwinds circled the cluster of Eradicons hacking away at the chunks of ice until there was a definite hole. There was a dark shape underneath, no more than another foot beneath the surface.
Landing in the middle of the ditch, Fairwinds paid no heed to the scuffing pedes around her as she stuffed her head into the frost. Activating her laser, she melted a narrow channel down to the mesh of the Cybertronian body trapped in the ice. When her beak finally made contact, she ran a touch-scan to ascertain the condition of the thing before they set about how to excavate it, only to scrabble backwards with a shriek when a sparkbeat pulsed at her.
<<OOC: Tag to Waspinator or Jetfire>>
Last Edit: Aug 11, 2013 17:01:56 GMT -5 by Deleted
Jetfire’s scans were hurried but thorough. A sparkbeat was nothing to play games with. It wasn’t too long ago that he himself was in the same position. The Seeker felt the mech’s field brush against his own. Weak… so weak. This mech hadn’t been equipped with nearly as much exploration equipment as he himself had. A quick carbon date scan showed that this hull had been in ice for a brief time in comparison to Jetfire’s status… but still the ages had rolled by this one.
Jetfire waited only a klik to ascertain the level of reactivation protocols this one had. It was difficult to tell, but there were few frames like the old Seeker- this one would need much more help than Jetfire had needed to reactivate.
The field was weak... so weak. Jetfire felt the cold creeping in on his own frame. A chill went down his spinal struts as he remembered PistonGasket pulling him from the melted snow and ice… Jetfire wasn’t a steam engine but he could do his own number-
He waved his massive span of arm servos, shooing the crowding Eradicons. “Everybody MOVE OUT. It’s gotta warm up, and there’s no time to wait on extraction.” Jetfire stamped, firmly planting a pede and jabbing at the ice with makeshift spikes, shooting from his leg servos. The whine of his engines started, the characteristic clanking and creaking coming from his aged frame. Components shifted and moved- he flexed his shoulders to aim the jets just above the encapsulating ice. Blue flame warmed the area- steam rose and water flowed.
They didn’t call him ‘Jetfire’ for nothing.
OOC: Jetfire’s stasis began shortly after the beginning of the war and he was reactivated at the end of Ep. 1… so he has some experience in this.
Fairwinds had taken to the air when Jetfire had decided to attend to the situation with masses of fire, and had hovered over the helms of the others with enough sense to say the hell back. It was the first time she'd seen Jetfire do anything impressive, and she was genuinely impressed.
Then an Insecticon with a face like a nightmare heaved itself out of its icy prison, and she thought Jetfire the biggest idiot the universe had ever suffered.
"Fraggit - put it back! Put it back!" Fairwinds lurched backwards into the blizzard, suffering for the icy wind and sleet but preferring the discomfort over any closer proximity to the undead mech. She'd had very limited contact with Insecticons in the past, and 90% of it had been evading being eaten or otherwise mauled. The other 10% had been hurling abuse from a safe distance.
"Ohhhh, there are probably dozens more under there," she wailed, gritting her dente as her systems began making more pointed complaints about the cold exposure. "And they're gonna rise up all starved and crazy and try to eat us and I wanna go home."
Jetfire deactivated his engines when he heard the explosive crackling of ice. He himself hadn’t had any power for that sort of movement upon extraction, so the pause was less for concern of the fellow mech’s hull, and more from sheer surprise.
It took him a moment to detach his pedes from the ice and adjust his optics to the blizzard, having focused on the light of his own jets… Therefore it took a moment to understand what Fairwinds’ squawking was all about.
If it wasn’t the yellow optics that weren’t menacing - it was the claws and mandibles that had done it. Jetfire himself was taken aback, and his fear of the surrounding ice was forgotten for a nano-klik. His great span of arms whirled as he backpedaled from the ‘exacvation’, the broken up ice helping his footing at the very least.
Still, after the moment of weakness, the Seeker was prepared to deal with the situation… that is until it continued to excavate itself with a strength that seemed to come from the Pit itself. The frame- still half covered in loose ice debris- was turning up to be close to his own size, and if this was the sort of strength it showed upon sudden reactivation from long-term stasis… Jetfire shuddered to think how this would end. He knew little about Insecticons, but the little he did know involved getting away from them as fast you possibly could. Next to that was the fact that they were never alone, and his thoughts were echoed by the cassette soon after his processors came upon the fact- "Ohhhh, there are probably dozens more under there."
But… what to do? When he’d been sent surveying deep space, a pact between Decepticon and Insecticon had just been formed. This mech was technically an ally… or was it? Had this part of history changed? Jetfire was terrifyingly unaware about the current standings with the Insecticons, and no one had bothered to update him on this little piece of history… considering how mortified the excavation crew was, perhaps the Insecticons weren’t quite on as friendly terms anymore…?
Regardless, it looked anything but friendly… and disorientation after stasis wasn’t uncommon. A rampaging Insecticon of that size, ally or not wasn’t out of the question here. Jetfire stood his ground, now the only closest mech to it, and pulled out his lazer cutter from his left servo. A useful tool for both excavation and combat. If the thing was sentient he could just pretend he was using it for extraction. If not…
They braced as the yellow optics took their time to gain bearings.
OOC: “It was the first time she'd seen Jetfire do anything impressive, and she was genuinely impressed.”
I literally laughed out loud at this. How did I miss this tag so long ago?
Also, took some liberties with the idea of Insecticon history after reading Waspie’s bio again. Will fix if need be. ALSO I'm willing to let Jetfire get into a tussle if you like. Don't know how Waspy will react but he is kind of surrounded by a bunch of Cons so an attack is totally ok and understandable on this end : P
Super apologies about leaving you guys hanging on this one. Maybe Jetfire’s senility is getting to me. It truly slipped my mind. Feel free to contact me sooner in the event it happens again, God forbid.
Fairwinds was many things, including overly optimistic and cheerfully spiteful. She was at her core, however, a Decepticon, and not a cowardly one at that. When a fellow Decepticon was under fire, she was there.
No matter how terribly ill advised.
The crashing echo of two Cybertronians clashing was still vibrating across the ice when Fairwinds swooped down in a sharp dive. She peeled through the snow between Jetfire's and the Insecticon's legs, beak transforming with a red flash. She set the blaster on its most powerful setting, then angled her head to pepper a line of fire across the icy monster's helm. Her targetting systems automatically fixed on exposed joints, armor gaps and the optical array. Decepticon cassettes knew the soft spots as well as they knew themselves.
Fairwinds knew that her firepower wasn't significant enough to do real damage to something of that size and armor class, but she hoped it would be distracting enough for Jetfire to club it into stasis with his walking stick.
Which she'd never mock again ever, honest to Primus.
Jetfire cried out as the insecticon clamped onto his servo, still transformed into the lazer cutter. He managed to hold his ground- he had been bracing himself for an attack- but he still had to take a step back. If there was one thing he was not an expert in, it was combat. He had been in several scrapes before, but even without his own lost time in stasis, it had been a long time.
There was a long moment where he heard the clacking, grating noise of the thing speaking to him, the snow swirling about, the yellow optics blinding him. It was a surreal moment and he found himself frozen in place. While he was still pulling his servo away with all his might, and digging his pedes into the snow with a strength he didn’t know his worn frame was capable of… it was a klik of peace that he finally managed to understand the words…
"Waspinator....not...going back."
The sound of Fairwinds’ blaster brought him back to reality. And there was an Insecticon clamped onto his arm. Jetfire took another tug at the thing- unreal with its post-extraction strength- and changed his strategy. The cassette’s fire made contact with the helm and he clenched his other servo on his jackhammer- he still held it after detaching it from the first part of the Insecticon’s extraction.
His hand servo transformed, connecting his arm with the jackhammer with a furious clacking noise. He pulled back, tugging again against the monster and then swung.
KLANG!
The jackhammer/walking stick connected with his opponent’s mandible with the satisfying sound of metal on metal. Jetfire tugged again, dialing up the power on his lazer cutter so it sparked and whined aggressively. He held his ‘staff’ above their heads, swinging it in a small, threatening circle. “Let go! Let go of me!” It sounded more like he was speaking to a sparkling than an energon-crazed monster.
Last Edit: Nov 28, 2013 13:23:49 GMT -5 by Deleted
The Insecticon's pleas for her mercy fell on defiantly deaf audios, and Fairwinds continued to pepper away at his foul metal hide. His apology and subsequent supplication to her total superiority eased away that last holds of panic that his vicious eruption from the ice had caused.
"Yeah, you're tired!" Fairwinds cried, sweeping around to land a rather bold (ie: close but not so close as to risk being eaten) distance from his helm. "Tired of us whooping your aft!"
She settled her wings primly, scowling through the snow and dusted ice that was still billowing about from the 'fight'. Simultaneously comm.ing Jetfire with the same words (just in case the archaic Seeker's hearing had slipped another notch), Fairwinds asked: "What do you reckon we should do with it? If it promises to behave, maybe drag it back to Lord Megatron and Shockwave?"
Jetfire’s processors were all a whirl with the sudden change in atmosphere.
He was glad Fairwinds had commed him the subtitles- he was too dumbfounded to understand her the first time around. He blinked, realizing his jackhammer was still ominously above the now cowering Insecticon. He shifted and it slammed back into the ice with a resounding crack! and a small explosion of snow. Ice flakes peppered the beast’s helm.
Jetfire held his expression stern, pinning the excavated beast with a red hot glare. Behind the faceplate, he was conflicted.
It was a few kliks before he sent a response comm. “Only thing to do, I suppose. Has the alliance with the Insecticons changed since…” he paused for a quick calculation and sent her a date. Considering ‘Waspinator’s change in attitude, he was assuming they were still allied… but considering how she was treating it, he still felt he was missing something.
“Stay there,” the Seeker barked at it, his vocabulator punctuated the order with feedback, causing a few eradicons to flinch. Ally or not, it had attacked him. He was ready to exercise the authority he seemed to share with Fairwinds over the matter. He craned around, singling out a few workers and nodding his helm at them. “Restrain him… and someone call a groundbridge.”