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.
Like Javelin, Nero also drew to a halt when the big Decepticon barred their path. He arched a brow but did not comment on it.
He met Javelin’s glance with an equally sceptical one.
“Only for us to bring into our midst a receiver that can also serve as a transmitter,” he said. “Combined perhaps with a hidden bug. While the possibility of eavesdropping on enemy radio chatter is admittedly intriguing, I think we’ll pass.”
Amused, Nero made a polite shooing gesture at Coldwind, a silent request to clear a path. “That said, let’s consider the possibility of a fair trade as something that’s still on the table. Anything else to offer?
Coldwind took a step back. She kept her eyes on Nero. He seemed intelligent and dangerous. Javelin definitely wasn't dumb either. Luckily, as is Decepticon nature, The Seeker always had a plan B in case the Autobots weren't the complete idiots she had them for.
"Well, look at you, putting that tiny brain module to work. And there I was thinking your blue friend wanted to consider the offer," she scoffed, fluttering her wings. "Such a smart, little thing you are."
Coldwind shifted to clear the Autobot's path, beckoning him to carry on. She took to his side whether he decided to walk or not, willing to discuss the terms of their hypothetical deal on the way.
"And what kind of information would somebody like you care about, err—Autobot? I don't think I caught your name amidst all that bravado, feigned charm, and dry wit."
She willingly decided to ignore Javelin's question. If the hulking Decepticon had a good idea about what the enemy craved, perhaps she could better decide to cherry-pick her own demands.
Javelin grunted, annoyed. All she had wanted to do was come here and get away from the base for a few. Take it easy, maybe get something useful for the base while she was at it. And suddenly having a nice-looking, polite mech along for conversation was welcome as well.
But no. A Con had to show up, and instead of avoiding them, she was deciding to be a pain in the aft and follow along.
She decided to remain silent for now – there wasn’t a lot she actually wanted to say to this...Coldwind...so she was quite content to just let Nero do the talking. He seemed smart enough not to say anything that would be a disadvantage to them. Maybe she could find out more by observing and not speaking.
Javelin let herself fall back slightly, taking up a stance behind Coldwind and Nero, keeping her optics on the Decepticon for any signs she was planning something.
If Nero was discomfited by his role of negotiator, he did not show it. He resumed his path down the corridor, content to let the hulking Decepticon fall in beside him. His manner was the relaxed and confident air of a mech in his element; a man puttering about in his own backyard. Even his voice was a low and comfortable drawl.
“My name is - Nero,” he said. “A pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant.”
Deliberately, he did not introduce Javelin. The right to disclose her name belonged to her alone. Instead, he seemed to consider Coldwind’s question as he made his way unerringly through the base.
“And let’s start with a simple exchange, shall we?” he said. “We’ll call it a show of mutual good will, a means to lay down the framework for peaceful negotiations. Why don’t you start by telling us about yourself, Lieutenant? As much or as little as you like.”
He smiled at Javelin. “I hope you will indulge my curiosity - as a new arrival I’m always looking for an opportunity to familiarize myself with the Cybertronians established on Earth, on both sides. I’m admittedly a little out of the loop.”
Coldwind kept up her pace with Nero. While he sauntered around like he owned the place, the Decepticon's strut was slow, militant and regular. For as long as he spoke, she remained silent and relatively docile.
"Nero, then," the Seeker affirmed sternly. "Because I feel we've reached something of a rapport, here is a fair warning."
She paused, looking straight ahead. Her expression was grim, serious.
"Decepticons like me do not hold liars in high regard. So, when I learn somebody has been lying to me—well, truce or not—I am wont to satisfy my violent tendencies."
Coldwind seemed hardly troubled by the hypocrisy of that statement. Her head slowly turned towards Nero with a look that could only be described with the sentence 'Are we understood?'
"But, by all means, do not let that distract you from the now. You want to know more about me, so here is a proposition. Three questions for the both of us. I promise to answer truthfully—That is so long as you ask about personal details—no military data."
Javelin wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about it all. While she understood the truce was in play, it felt so very wrong to just be...talking...to a Decepticon like they were friendly strangers meeting at a gathering place, entirely by coincidence. It was hard for her to move past the idea that in a day, a week, a month, this Decepticon would be shooting at her, attempting to kill her.
Would try to kill others at the base.
Had probably killed other Autobots before now, individuals who would never see another sunrise or sunset, to talk to friends, or laugh.
Dropping her gaze to the peds of Coldwind and Nero as they walked in front of her, Javelin wondered what it meant, that she as having so much difficulty accepting the truce. Was she flawed? Or were the others?
Looking up as Nero turned towards her, she rewarded him with a faint smile, a murmured “Of course” , as he spoke. She certainly wasn’t going to throw a tantrum and insist he not speak to Coldwind. Nor was she going to give the Decepticon the satisfaction of knowing she was getting to her.
Doesn’t like liars. Oh Primus, give me strength.
She clutched the box, and followed in silence.
Last Edit: Dec 26, 2018 11:54:42 GMT -5 by Javelin
“In that, Lieutenant, we are in accord,” he said. Not a trace of humour reached his optics as he smiled. “I too - detest - liars. Both personally and professionally. But I won’t digress.”
At a fork in the corridor he turned, as if following a mental map. “Your remaining conditions sound reasonable to me. No military-specific questions. Any and all sensitive information shall be appropriately redacted. With that in mind, let me think.”
He did, for a moment, his red optics briefly lowered. “I know. I’ll go first. Lieutenant, judging by your frame-type, I’ll assume you are one of Vos’ Seekers. Did you have a non-military function in Vos prior to your conscription - a civilian life, perhaps?”
"There was no conscription," Coldwind replied laconically. "I was built a Seeker."
As they made their way through Haven, she turned where Nero did and kept her steps short, so that she wouldn't outpace the smaller mech.
"The grounder seems oddly silent," she remarked. Her focus slipped from Nero.
"Do I make you nervous?" The Vosnian turned her head over the shoulder. Her red eyes tried to establish contact with Javelin's own. The question almost seemed rethorical—Coldwind could tell when people were unnerved by her presence. She didn't even wait for an answer.
Back to Nero, she enunciated, "That was your first question. If I'm not mistaken, now it is my turn."
A moment of silence followed before Coldwind would speak again.
"Some find what I'm about to ask very personal, or so I've been told—others think it surprisingly easy to answer. But—"
Javelin continued to walk behind Coldwind and Nero, quietly content to observe. They were getting closer to the Medibay, and she curiosity was starting to get the better of her. She wondered how much like the one at Omega it would be. Probably not the same completely. After all, the Autobot Medibay was a military installation, while this one would be more civilian. But she assumed all the working parts and tools would be the same, right?
She came back to the present as Coldwind peered back at her, and spoke. Javelin’s optics sparked coldly, “No, you don’t make me nervous. You make me sick. There’s a difference.”
Still following, she listened again, until the Decepticon spoke again, and Javelin barked a laugh.
“Oh Primus!” she mimicked Coldwind’s serious dropping of her voice, “ ‘What do you fear the most?’ Could you be any more second rate villain-ish? Why don’t you just loom and laugh maniacally while you’re at it? Can’t you put a little more spark into it? I’ve seen human villains on late night television more convincing than you. You might as well be curling a moustache while you’re at it, swishing your black cape.”
Javelin switched her box from one hip to another, speaking again, “Oh, I’ll go first! I’m afraid of dying by choking on this overwrought, melodramatic attempt at villainy. Your turn.”
Nero had remained quiet during Javelin’s outburst, but he could not keep his amusement from his face entirely. His optics gleamed with suppressed laughter as he walked.
“Oh, please, allow me,” he said. “I feel I owe it to the Lieutenant to confess my deepest dread. In the name of honest communication.”
His voice dipped into a throaty whisper. “My greatest fear is... financial instability due to a high risk/reward undiversified portfolio grossly underperforming when major indexes plummet in unstable market conditions.”
He feigned a shudder. “Terrifying. Also, maybe eels. They have such creepy little faces. Nothing but teeth. I’ll thank you ladies to keep this traumatic admission between the three of us. And - I think it’s my turn to ask a question again.”
Nero abruptly came to a halt at an open doorway. Beyond him lay an open medical bay, it’s lights dimmed to conserve power.
“So!” he said. He glanced back at Coldwind. Good humour lingered in his gaze as he sized her up. “You’re quite physically impressive, Lieutenant, but you’re not really my - type. I don’t suppose there any other Decepticon femmes here on Earth, are there - smaller ones, leggier, pretty optics, maybe less homicidally inclined?”
At Coldwind’s reply, Javelin blinked, looking confused when the large Decepticon turned back.
She didn’t know what a moustache was?
What was the point of coming to an alien planet if you weren’t going to look up anything about the native species?
Javelin felt an odd burst of pity for the Decepticon. Were they really so immersed in nothing but war, war, war that they didn’t understand anything else? What kind of lives did they live? Didn’t they have any personal time to themselves?
Frowning faintly, Javelin followed behind the others, listening in again.
"We have already collected data on the Decepticons on Earth, Lieutenant," he said patiently. "I was simply accommodating your deficient social capacity by giving you an opening – an opportunity – to make humorous small-talk with the big kids. A low-ball question, as it were. If we must interact with Decepticons for the duration of the truce I'd prefer to chat up one that's easy on the eyes and can converse above the level of a mossy rock."
He strode into the medical bay and looked around. Though sparse on equipment compared to what someone like Coldwind would be accustomed to aboard the Nemesis, the berths and terminals, and their accompanying monitors, were neatly arrayed. The dimmed lights gave the room a lonely, abandoned air.
Nero made a beeline to one of the faintly humming terminals. "And with that firmly in mind… I have a question now for my infinitely more engaging companion. Miss – ah, Artemis, how are you enjoying Earth so far? First time to a foreign planet?"
Abandoned. Coldwind's trade spurred and refused. It always ended the same way, no matter who was involved in the conversation. All she could ever do was convert that resentment into anger. Her tremors returned, held back only by a feeble nagging voice at the back of her head—conscience perhaps?
I can't. The Truce. Starscream will demote me.
This was an insult, an outrage! I must kill Nero!
No, I will fight when the time is right.
He must pay. His little friend too.
Truce, truce, truce, truce.
WAR! WAR! WAR!
Not today. Not today.
Coldwind has lived through a million years of war. It was simple, always so simple. Go there, kill that one. Come here, imprison this one. Torture, kill, imprison, repeat. It was all she ever knew. Seek. Seek and destroy.
But the truce. It was so—ambiguous. The Autobots were Coldwind's enemy yet she couldn't strike. The three of them fired insults at each other, traded animosity. She's done this countless times, always killing the Autobots when she tired of their yammering. Today? Today she couldn't.
She thought she'd get the measure of her enemy but instead failed to properly understand her own merit. It was as if time itself had stopped for Coldwind. She just stood in the doorway, arm outstretched to invite Nero who was already inside.
A solid few seconds, the Vosnian just stood there with a blank, rageful expression. Then, she took a few steps inside. She saw Nero, inquiring upon Javelin. He rushed to the terminals, she followed with slow, heavy strides.
Coldwind approached the Autobot and leaned uncomfortably close to his audio-receptor. Her right hand grabbed onto the terminal he was after and grasped it firmly.
"My social capabilities might be deficient, Autobot, and you might think this truce protects you from the consequences of these insults. But that won't last forever," she whispered so that only Nero could hear.
"When this pretentious ceasefire is over, I will find you, I will gut you open, I will drink your Energon, rip out your Spark, and kill you. In that exact order," Coldwind continued in empty, cold, hushed tones. Her grip on the terminal strengthened, and strengthened, and strengthened. Steam started rolling down her wrists, rising all around the two Cybertronians.
SNAP! The terminal was crushed and frozen solid. Coldwind leaned back comfortably and looped her arms behind her back.
Now aloud, she continued, "I hope you do enjoy the coming joors. They will be your last."
And that was the end of it. She turned away from the black mech, ready to leave the room at moment's notice.
Last Edit: Dec 29, 2018 18:30:01 GMT -5 by Coldwind
With narrowed optics, Javelin watched Coldwind as she leaned in and threatened Nero. She assumed it was a threat – it certainly appeared threatening. As the large femme applied pressure to the terminal, Javelin slowly raised a hand back over her shoulder. Gently resting her left palm on the back of her neck as if stretching, she waited, tense. If Coldwind reached for Nero, her bow would be in her hands in seconds. Her blue-green optics were cold as ice as they riveted on Coldwind at the louder threat.
We’ll see how many arrows I can sink into your faceplate if you try, ‘Con.
As Coldwind moved away from Nero, Javelin casually lowered her arm again, resting it once more on the box. Tension de-escalated, she moved forward, now answering Nero’s question. Coming to a stand beside Nero, she smiled broadly at him.
“In fact I am enjoying Earth very much, thank you. It’s delightful, and I think everyone should take a moment to learn a little about the planet and its native species.”
A not-so-subtle glance towards Coldwind, and she continued, looking back to Nero.
“Actually, I’ve been on many other planets, the majority of them organic. My occupation, you see, involves finding Decepticon bases attempting to hide, and sending the coordinates to Autobot Command, thereby wiping them out. I don’t want to brag, but I’ve been very successful.”
Feeling safe revealing that much about herself – she was aware Decepticons were aware of Terrestrial Recon Scouts, Javelin now turned and looked directly at Coldwind.
“And I do hope you’re planning on paying for that terminal you broke. This base shouldn’t suffer because of your temper.”