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.
It didn’t take a genius to pick out the signs of unease in Fort Max’s entire being — the way he kind of trailed off in his words, as if picking for something that would both convey how he really felt without being offensive. His avatar flickered and faded, leaving her at a loss for facial description — read his field she could not, but a glance in Layby’s holo’s direction, that little smile, made her think she was on the right track.
Understandably, she thought, it seemed he was uneasy with the whole shebang they had going on here — and truthfully, she wondered if she should have felt the same way when she decided to take Cleaver and Layby up on the invitation to chill here. She was sure, at some point, the thought occurred to her to at least think about it. But like most situations where her well-being should be concerned, if it wasn’t immediate, it was put on the back burner. It had been simmering there on low heat for a while now. The look on Fort Max’s face made her pop the lid, smell the steam, but… well. It was left there to simmer a little longer.
“Yeah, no argument there.” She said with an easy grin — the getting used to was an on-going process.
And because she felt like she needed to add something: “You’re more than welcome to scan my gear, too, if you’re curious about the way it interacts with the Cybertronian tech. Totally understandable.” She said with a shrug and a glance at Layby. Because, if she were checking for security, the ‘alien tech’ would be what she would want to gnaw at and pick apart also, and of course, she wouldn't grudge him that.
That coordinates were incapable of being stored in the Neutral ground bridge controls was one weight off his shoulders, at least. The thought of the location of the Autobot base being stored in any sort of digital memory was a source of stress. A tiny handful of numbers in an outside system was a crucial piece of information outside of his control, and he hated a lack of control.
That Red Alert had also combed over the Neutral ground bridge was another pressure taken off him. Maximus trusted the... the Security Director to be thorough. Possibly excessively so, but Maximus could not fault him for that.
It was difficult to give up the urge to micromanage. But Maximus tried. It was no longer his place to do so anyway.
“No, that’s – that’s fine,” he said to Layby. He managed a brief smile. “If Red Alert already looked it over, then I don’t think there is anything I could do to add to his assessment short of, I don’t know... running each individual screw and circuit through an electron microscope. I can imagine that Cleaver took umbrage to his methods, but they are secure. I will attest to that.”
Maximus turned to Cat next. She was so tiny next to him. He resisted the urge to get down on one knee to speak to her. He had always hated that gesture. Seemed patronizing to speak to another on anything less than your own two feet.
“I wouldn't mind scanning your gear though,” he said gravely. “I don't mistrust you. But I’ve never seen human technology interact with our tech. I should say, I’ve never seen a human create a workaround to allow our tech to communicate with yours. I’d be curious to see how it was done. That’s a pretty significant feat. You’re a programmer?”
Catherine didn’t bother to hide the little preen that happened when Max spoke. Alien communications with Earth tech, done on a simple dime, some time, and a few swears? “Weeeeell.” Yeeeeah, she thought reacting by shrugging her shoulders up high, cheeks dimpling with a smirk of mock innocence and humility, she could get away with it being pretty significant. In all seriousness she let her shoulders fall suddenly, dropping the front and slipping back into the easy slouch that was uniquely Cat. “Naaah, it’s alright. It gets the job done.”
Bumping her hip against the counter she pushed herself back onto her feet with an easy sway, making a move for the still open door to her Pod. “But yeah, programming is part of the job… sounds a bit more diplomatic than hacker anyway.” She added the last under her breath, behind a sip of coffee, before pausing just outside the door rather suddenly.
“Aaah, but you might wanna get your holo again if you wanna take a look up close, I got my station set up in my room, so… Unless you can scan from there.” She took a step to the side at this, as if inviting them both inside… the door itself was a mysteriously ominous opening — a cut of darkness slashed through alien metal, a little mouse hole really, filled with eerily glowing lights and not much else from within. “Not terribly complicated, though, just a few jabs here and there to get everything working side by side. Kinda gotta swim with it for a bit and then get the currents just swoosh, know what I mean?” An arm motion was added with this, hands swimming up through the air but parallel to each other. By the look on her face, pleasant and patient, she didn’t gather that someone who wasn’t in her head would not have understood a seemingly random and…extremely vague sentence. She just assumed Cleaver and Layby got her meaning more often than not.
<< Finally -- I wrote it like this because it flowed, but we can close this up anytime. >>