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.
Her words trailed off into silence. There was only the susurrus of the wind in the pine trees.
Mercer held the black folio over his stomach, like a bible. He looked down at his feet.
"I'm afraid the Autobots verified her identity," he said quietly. "There was an explosion at this site during their raid. Part of the complex was destroyed, but she remained untouched by the fire. The Autobots have requested that we leave her to her people - the Cybertronians, I mean. Out of respect for their loss, we have agreed to do so."
The wind tugged at his hair as he lifted his head.
"The last I heard there was talk of the Autobots and Decepticons removing her body as part of a truce, as a show of mutual respect," he said. "I honestly don't know if that event has occurred yet, or if the Neutrals have been given her back. It's been a week since I was last here, and I've not been kept up to date on this particular situation. Nonetheless, Agent Fowler wanted me to meet you here. So you would see for yourself exactly what we are up against."
Mercer pointed to the smoking facility. His expression was grave.
"An implacable foe who sees your friends as mere resources, who views butchery as a form of progress, and one with the will and the means to carry out their agenda on their own terms."
During the time he spoke, her head swam. Her fingers found their way into her hair and she paced back, the steps so clumsy that for a moment it appeared as if she might drop to the ground. Her breath was shaking, her eyes stung, but no moisture clung to them, though she could feel her nose burning and swelling in that familiar way. Her eyes swept over what was left of the facility, distant and hazy.
She was here. She thought, turning in her slow, drunken pace as if expecting a shred of orange or rotary blade to pop up somewhere in her eye sight. The thought that somewhere in the horizon she’d see Cleaver’s figure, but not in the way she remembered.
It terrified her.
But when she made her circle, Mercer appearing back in her vision, there was nothing. Of course she knew, her body most likely wouldn’t be out in plain sight. But on the edge of what felt like near panic, it helped calm the baser instantly gratified instincts.
“We haven’t been.” If before it seemed like she wasn’t listening, her abrupt interruption proved that wrong. But she said nothing more after that. She bit back what felt like acid instead, though she couldn’t tell if it was anger or her stomach. Finally she lifted her eyes back up to Mercer. They were dryer than she thought they would be, a painful dry like she had already cried too much. Nothing came out. They only stared ahead into his glasses, cold and dry and…tired.
She was silent for a while, looking as though she might have slipped into a day dream.
Agent Fowler can kiss my ass. The stray thought fought up from somewhere inside, some parts of emotion trying to bring some type of liveliness to her. ’Bring me here to tell me Cleaver’s dead, everyone knows for a week ‘cept us?’ She couldn’t tell if it was genuine care or some ill placed shock factor to piss her off enough to fight on their side. Now the logical emotionally level side was liking to think they weren’t the type to use a dead friend to do that, but it was the grieving side at the front of the cortex right now, and the grieving side liked to cope with anger.
The silence stretched, her tongue running over her teeth, and she wondered if she was glaring as much as she felt she was. She felt numb, she couldn’t tell. Whether or not what she was thinking appeared on her face, she didn’t know. She couldn’t read Mercer.
“Yeah.” Her voice didn’t crack this time, but it was deep, huskier than usual. She took in a deep breath, her hands staying on the top of her head. “Believe me, I hated them before…” she went missing lingered past the catch in her voice. For the first time in the awkward silence she dropped her gaze, breathed in deep again, and nodded to the black portfolio. “That for me?”
Though his expression was neutral, an air of awkward composure lingered about him, as if natural sympathy warred with professional decorum. He did not seem a man who readily gave in to emotion, and thus found this task a little out of his league.
When she glanced at the folio he held it out to her.
"It is," he said. "Agent Fowler asked me to put it together for you. It is, in essence, a primer on much of the information we've gathered about MECH to date. The only real intel we've neglected to include within it mostly pertains to our own military administrative details, such as sensitive data in regards to technological specifications and personnel names. The bulk of it deals with MECH itself, including its known leaders and its paramilitary capabilities. Some of this information may be familiar to you already - but I feel that this document will put it all together in a more comprehensive fashion. Offer you the bigger picture, so to speak."
He hesitated. Behind his glasses his eyes darted to the silent, smouldering facility.
"I know this must seem like a blunt approach, emailing you without warning and bringing you here, of all places," he said. "But you have us worried. MECH does not limit its recruiting to government or military-trained individuals. We were afraid that they might have attempted to contact you already. We didn't think you would accept any offer they might give you - but we couldn't risk it either. I'll understand if you're angry myself or Agent Fowler for our lack of tact. But if this meeting will make you angrier at MECH, then it will have been worth it in our eyes."
Mercer looked grim. He folded his hands behind his back and stood at attention, slim and dark and quiet.
"Perhaps that will drive home the seriousness of our situation," he said. "We have very few civilian allies who are aware of the Cybertronian presence on our planet. Hardly any, in fact. We sincerely do hope they will work with us. But if all else fails, warning them about MECH and instilling within them a loathing for MECH's objectives is our only other alternative."