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.
Coldwind made the necessary logical conclusions between MECH, humans, Autobots, and Decepticons from what Starscream said. Though politics were never a huge part of her agenda, she liked having a general idea of them, in case it could lead towards opportunities, mostly ones involving killing her enemies in the most brutal, heart-wrenching ways possible.
"These humans, they are organic, correct?" She assumed based on the description. Small, inferior, insignificant. These were not the makes of the proud mechanical master race. It was truly abhorrent that Autobots would lower themselves to keep organics of all things as their pets.
"Disgusting. The Autobots became even more of an affront to our history than I remember," Coldwind scoffed. Truly, in her eyes, Autobots were a blasphemy against all Cybertronians—if not mechanical life in general.
And so, like this, she followed Starscream room after room, doorless storage after doorless storage. What a sad, little place it was compared to Kaon, compared to Vos, compared to the magnificent fortification built back home. The makes of a Decepticon empire.
"Not like I care much for history—but it helps the more, ahem, 'morally inclined' of us dismiss any previous doubts about Autobot weakness," she reasoned.
Obviously, Starscream's opportunities involved using humans as the proverbial chink in the armor. Coldwind considered that reality too but figured she would leave Starscream to play around with the Autobots' pets on his own. She didn't care much for these insects. It only mattered that it would encourage somebody to pull a trigger.
“Indeed, which makes this Truce all the more embarrasing.” he droned, the sneer on his faceplate coming through with the distaste in his words.
This rogue group of humans were dangerous, that much was true. But at the end of the day they were merely organic and compared to the full armada of the Decepticon forces? He still wasn’t sure what Megatron had intended with this Truce. One well-placed bomb, or a single well-timed ambush? That was all it would take to be rid of them. They didn’t need the Autobots to do that!
And yet-
He vented in sharply.
And yet Megatron had not only been the one to call for the Truce, but he had agreed to Optimus’ terms as well. No lethal force was to be used against MECH unless absolutely necessary. The Truce may have been Megatron’s idea but he’d all but buckled and rolled over when it came to the terms involved- it should’ve been shoot them on sight! Crush them underfoot! Get them out of the way so more important things could be resumed, like the whole purpose they were on Earth to begin with.
All the more reason to get things back on track - and soon.
He met Coldwind’s scoff with one of his own as he walked briskly. He didn’t respond to her words, merely turning down a corridor at the far end of Blackridge, knowing she would be close behind. It was quieter than the rest of the base here, and it’d become apparent as to why as Starscream moved into what looked like his personal quarters at the end of this short corridor.
So much for a tour.
The room itself was nothing special, certainly not fitting the Lord of the Decepticons. It was simple, a berth at one side of the room, a desk made out of stone in the middle with datapads scattered on top. Monitors lined the back wall, blueprints and maps displayed on some, with various points marked with crosses and circles.
It was the desk that Starscream moved over to, turning to face Coldwind as he leaned back against it, one clawed talon tapping the stone slab in thought.
“So now you know of our situation and what we are up against, I may have use for you yet.”
Coldwind followed Starscream into the room. She traced his movements around the table, glancing at the many datapads and plans laid out across the room with curious intent. Starscream was well-prepared for a variety of scenarios. His administrative skills were indeed impressive.
But the outlier's only interests were battle tactics and power. Coldwind didn't care for the paperwork in which Starscream excelled. Energon mining, rationing, medical data. All nonsense and buzz in her head. If there was any intel she harbored dear, then only to hurt Autobots. She thrived on suffering.
But enough of that for now.
She firmly positioned herself perpendicularly to Starscream who "may have a use for her yet." The wording was ruthless. However, Coldwind understood. Decepticons usually thought in simple concepts. For Coldwind, it was how much Energon she could spill. For Starscream, how useful someone was to his own goals.
"And what would you have your loyal servant do, Lord Starscream?" She asked firmly, waving a hand over the datapads. Then she quenched it into a tight fist and dropped it back to the side of her monstrous torso. She intentionally tried to mimic the way Starscream addressed Megatron, perhaps in mockery of the—hopefully late—Warlord.
But Starscream didn’t respond straight away. Carefully he’d lift the servo that’d been tapping the stone slab of a desk, folding his arms across his chassis as he sized up the taller, bulkier femme. It’d been far too long since he’d seen her, and yet it was like nothing had really changed.
The mimicry of his own mannerisms wasn’t lost on him, and the faintest of smirks would appear on his faceplate. After what was nothing more than a brief moment of silence, he would finally respond.
“Well for one, you will need an altmode suited to this planet. While I care little for the human pests, the less attention we attract by using Cybertronian forms, the better. Knock Out can probably assist you with that - I’m sure he’ll be wanting to give you a medical, given you did just arrive…”
A shift of his weight, still leaning back against his desk, with one knee bending some with the flat of his pede leaning against the desk itself. His posture was oddly relaxed, then again he knew Coldwind - and as such there was no need for the usual formalities.
Despite this, his tone was serious.
“Once you’ve done that, I suppose I can find something for you to do. Oversee one of our Energon Mines, perhaps.”
He chuckled lowly, wanting to see how she reacted to the most mundane, boring job there was. One that was better suited to a competent Vehicon than a former bodyguard.
At first, Coldwind seemed intent. She scanned Starscream's every move and stir. He was taking his sweet time with spitting out an answer. The Vosnian femme wasn't fond of his penchant for theatrics and atmosphere; nor did she care much for his snide attitude. But there was little she could do. After all, it did not befit a loyal servant to insult his glorious lordship, did it now?
When he finally had a reply for her, it went about as well as things can go when you tell a warrior to wear the skin of some sort of local barbaric machine. An insult to Cybertronian heritage, to be sure.
"You expect me to hide from the Autobot filth and their band of primitive savages?" She answered in turn, furrowed her brow and scowled.
Coldwind then followed her hotheaded statement with a dull grunt. She placed her massive, clawed digit against her forehead. Tap. Tap. Tap. Her thumb clanked against her cranium.
If Starscream remembered her even half as he claimed to, he'd recognized the motion. She was thinking. Her strategic mind butting against the savage spark, trying to figure out if pride meant to her more than efficiency.
It did not.
"Very well. I will see to meeting this Knock Out," The Seeker spat out dismissively in anticipation of Starscream's next charge.
Then it came.
Though his intention was to entertain himself, what the Decepticon Lord came up with struck a nerve. Overseeing Energon Mines? Really? Who did he think Coldwind was? A Vehicon?No. She was an outlier. A seeker. Cons like her were one in a million. She knew her worth as much as she lacked sympathy for Starscream's brand of humor.
At that moment, all senses were lost. She slammed her fist into Starscream's table, a thin layer of frost crept over the furniture.
"No! Even as a joke, no! I saved your sorry chassis, risking life and servo!" The femme Vosnian denied her mech counterpart. Her voice turned stone cold as she continued, pointing at Starscream from across the frozen table: "You will respect our arrangement."
Coldwind knew what she wanted, and she would not be denied. If all else failed, she still had a bargaining chip in the form of herself. How would the Decepticon ranks respond to finding out how Starscream treated and discarded his trusted, loyal subjects, she wondered. What about his dirty secrets?
How many would cry for Megatron to come back? How many would no longer want him in charge? It was interesting to think about.
Post by Starscream on May 10, 2019 20:26:54 GMT -5
“If I have to resort to using a human jet for my alt-mode, I think you’ll manage.” he droned, but there was a smirk on his faceplate. While he had little care for the organics on this planet, he couldn’t deny that some of their aviation - specifically military jets - were sleek and up to his picky standards.
“Don’t be so quick to dismiss the idea, I’m sure you will find an alt-mode that suits your tastes, as picky as you may be. Besides, it could be worse - you could be a Grounder.” there was a certain distaste at the very word. Why any self-respecting Decepticon would choose a ground-based alt-mode when they had the freedom and sheer superiority of the skies above was beyond him, and he knew she felt the same.
He watched as she tapped a digit on her helm, his own servo shifting to rest on the surface of the desk - a long, clawed digit tapping the table gently in response. While hers was a motion of thinking, his was one of impatience. She didn’t have a say in the matter, and so her next words were pleasing to his audials, and he’d nod.
“Good.”
He was curious as to what alt-mode she would pick. Given her size, it may be difficult to find something that suited her needs, but he was sure both she and Knock Out could find something that worked.
The slamming of her fist quickly drew him from his thoughts, and he’d stand up straighter, wings hiking up in alarm - optics narrowing as the frost began creeping along its surface, and he’d turn his lip up in a soft growl, making a point to pick up a datapad before it got damaged by the cold.
“I see that even despite your Joors in isolation you didn’t find time to pick up a sense of humor.” aside from the initial hiking of his wings, he’d quickly calmed once more, his words flat, almost.
A pause, then a chuckle.
“Our arrangement will be upheld, Coldwind. Do not worry about that.”
Things had changed in the Decepticon ranks. Starscream was in charge now, but Megatron’s whereabouts were an unknown. While the transition had been mostly seamless, there were those within the hierarchy that still held loyalty to Megatron alone.
Starscream would need all the people on his side that he could - and the bigger and more intimidating those allies were? The better.
Coldwind simply rolled her optics at the notion of Grounders. She shared Starscream's antipathy towards that particular method of transport. It was so inefficient and humiliating. Indeed, it was not a form for any Decepticon of respect and repute.
Then came her little tantrum and Starscream's quick response. Coldwind was most pleased that he saw things her way—eventually. She would be a better asset if the two kept to each other's good sides. Well, as much as a good side the either of them had. Luckily for the two Seekers, the Vosnian femme didn't take very long to calm down and postured herself back into a stance bespeaking of dignity once Starscream said the right words.
"I am glad we are on the same page, my lord," she nodded along to Starscream's tune. After all, there was only so far out of line she could get before it would become a hindrance rather than a tool to use against Starscream.
Then she crossed her arms and waited if there was ought else Starscream would like to entrust to her or something he would like done. She was waiting for a proper dismissal too. What a dutiful little soldier she was all of the sudden. Of course, only for as long as Starscream would play along.
Post by Starscream on May 31, 2019 22:47:45 GMT -5
Starscream could only smirk at the optic roll. Even though she’d spent many a year alone on Cybertron - which was enough to drive anyone a little crazy - she’d not changed her opinion on Grounders.
Not much had changed at all, really. Well, aside from his obvious new - and rightful - position, and the location of where the Decepticons now called ‘home’. She was still easily placated by his words, they still continued their dance of toying with one another, playing the game - using one another.
Which suited Starscream fine. As the well deserved and proper Lord of the Decepticons, he had more to lose now - more than ever, in fact. But on the flip of that same coin, he also had more to offer in return to keep people on his side.
For as long as he needed them, anyway.
“Indeed.” he purred, smirking.
He wouldn’t cross his arms as she did, but he would stand up a little straighter - a clawed digit tapping the still-icy-cold stone slab of a desk in thought.
“For now, I suggest seeking out the Medical Bay and meeting Knock Out, sooner rather than later. Can’t uphold any sort of deal or do much of anything if you can’t even leave Blackridge…”
A low chuckle.
“Unless there was anything else you wanted to add?”
He left the comment open, she could either continue on with something else - or take the opportunity to see herself out. Blackridge was not a large facility, and it would not take long for her to find the Medical Bay should she choose to heed his suggestion.
A moment of deliberation followed, but it ended just as quickly as it began.
"Nothing whatsoever, my lord," she said, making ready to leave by easing her posture.
"Your directives are clear. I shall depart at once."
And with that, Coldwind left the room. The way she carried herself, the way she spoke. It was a resolute show of obedience, indicative of her service under Starscream's wings. Of course, only so long as being a lapdog suited Coldwind's status and position. One never knew where and when the tables would turn.
She sensed that such a day would come sooner than later. And when it does, she will be ready.
But first: Knock Out.
Last Edit: Aug 9, 2019 17:03:36 GMT -5 by Coldwind
“I’m glad to hear it.” a droned, almost flat response. He had a thousand and one things he needed to be doing, and as lovely as it was to catch up with an old ‘friend’, he didn’t want to stand around talking.
As her posture would ease, his would stiffen some with a twitch or two of his wings - he never knew if there would be more added. Or if she would suddenly decide to have a change of spark and attack him. His earlier words he hoped had placated her, but given she’d been alone on Cybertron for so long - well, he wouldn’t be surprised if there was an underlying grudge or the tiniest bit of resentment.
He didn’t doubt it at all, in fact.
But - luckily, she had no more to add this day. As she moved to depart, he would follow - if only to close the makeshift door behind her, allowing himself privacy once more.
“You know where I am if you change your mind…”
With that, he would close the door behind her, making his way back over to his desk and using one clawed digit to scrape off some of the frost that lingered with a grumble of annoyance.