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.
Omega Base Ground Bridge to New Zealand, somewhere in the Southern Alps to west coast
Rail was nervous, excited, apprehensive and still a little sore. All things considered, this was a normal state of affairs for the twitchy scout. He had a new alt-mode – a highly modified human truck he was itching to test. Literally itching. Panels and pieces and parts and gears were all sitting in new positions, most just slightly off from before, others a little further from where they had been, and half had a different shape altogether. It was a whole brand new Rail suit with its own set of kinks to loosen out. The scout was also going scouting at last. It was essentially his mission in life to find energon for others and right now those others needed his skills more than ever. It just felt right to help like this.
He was also heading out with Patch, the Autobot Medic who had helped to “patch” him up after his painful encounter with M.E.C.H. Rail liked her. Possibly more than he should. Rail was extremely grateful to her and knew that his gratitude was mixing with the mess of emotions he was suffering at that time. He would have to be careful least he makes things awkward.
So he stood waiting in the atrium for Patch. He was early and trying not to shuffle about and fidget too much while he waited.
It had been yet another difficult night of recharge…
The first day home after two sleeping out in the desert. Patch had been hoping for a peaceful power down. Though after hearing what had happened. After seeing the condition of their scout, after treating their own Physician’s wounds. She had been carried back to a place in her mind the young medic had hoped she’d never see again. And, as nearly a direct result;
had spent yet another night recharging on the floor.
It wasn't her slab’s fault. She was thankful for the privilege of a proper place to sleep. (Something she hadn't the luxury of back on the frontlines.) Though… It seemed, these days, she always felt either restless, or too tired to recharge. To light to be worthy of such an indulgence, though still too heavy not to fall through it’s cracks… The room was simply missing something… ‘about a dozen more sets of vents’ she internally mused as she walked along those great stone pathways carved from the plateau.
Patch had watched people die of energon deprivation, during her time in that place, on those battlefields. She had nearly starved alongside them. She knew what it looked like... She knew it was slow. An utterly awful, merciless, pitiful way to way to go offline. In recent weeks, she had seen those same signs in every single member of this base; including herself. The weight to her limbs, the dull to her optics. The ever retching ache that plagued her fuel tank, just as readily apparent as the warning light flashing in the corner of her HUD.
She knew how bad it could get.
And she was not, about to sit idly by, and watch it all happen again.
That’s why she had been so eager to join this mission. That, and the fact that she had missed so much on her hiatus to find an alt-mode. Of course, she leaves for two slagging days, and their whole situation goes to the pits. Silence for weeks, then suddenly sickbay is flooded with casualties. Twice!
To say Patch was feeling guilty for missing that, was the understatement of the day. She was so eager to try and make things better around here, for everyone. Having missed that opportunity to help? To at the very least make things easier on their surgeon in a time of emergency? It ached. She was still kicking herself over it, even if she knew it wouldn't do a goddamned thing to change the past.
Even carrying these heavy thoughts, Patch’s demeanor was rather light. Her field ever steady and calm, and… Strangely enough, seemingly content. After all, this was nowhere near the worst condition she’d ever been in, or the worst scenario. She was ready to work. And was more than ready to make up for her absence.
“Hey Rail.” Her tone was friendly. Light and comfortable as she approached the mech at a confident hip-with saunter. She liked Rail. He had made a good impression on her yesterday. He seemed soft spoken, well meaning. Perhaps a tad reserved (a trait which the bold young femme did not often understand) and granted, his cosmetic choices where rather unique. Though he seemed sweet. She didn’t mind the appearance, and she’d learned how to be patient with those on the opposite side of the social spectrum from herself. “How ya feelin’? You look better today.”
“Good morning Patch. Feelin' much better today. Thank you.” Rail replied with a smile on his face now that Patch had appeared. And he did indeed feel better though there was still some time before he would be completely healed. He forced himself to relax and managed to mostly stop fidgeting. There was too much on his mind for him to fully be at ease however, but that was normal for him for the silver scout.
“OH!” Rail exclaimed with amusement and his optics brightened up. “A promise was made.” He reached into a subspace pocket and pulled out a camera. Although large and bulky by human standards, it was absolutely tiny in Rail’s hand. There was little chance he could physically operate it manually but being cybertronian with radio broadcast ability, he could use bluetooth instead. With a little practice, he'd found he was quite adept at operating the tiny device. It was all very logical, and the automatic function did most of the work anyway. Point and click really. "Apparently our destination is very scenic and relates to some famous movie filming location. Middle Earth was mentioned. Some photos have been requested." Rail slipped the camera back into subspace least he drop it. He honestly found the idea of recording 2 dimensional images of scenery quite novel. The whole idea of scenery was practically novel after being at war for millenia. Stopping to smell the roses as the humans would say just hadn't been an option back home.
Rail was not completely sure he'd find time to take many photos, if any. He would try to honor the promise made but Patch and himself did have a very important mission that came first. But that would also require some luck. If they did get lucky, they would be very busy.There was nothing left for it but to go look to find energon, or more accurately in Rail's case, sniff it out.
He gave a small nod to Patch to say he was ready to leave and then turned to Face Arcee at the ground bridge controls. "If you would be so kind to send us through please." Rail then proceeded to transform into his new vehicle mode disguise. He took his time as plates and panels and wheels shifted position. The origami of metal geometry took a strain on Rail greater than for most and he always had to transform slower to minimize wear on his worn T-cog.
As the swirly vortex of exotic energies and esoteric physics stabilized into a dimensional doorway, Rail drove through - a somewhat shiny silver, heavily modified, Chevrolet C10 stepside pickup truck.
“Oh good! I’m glad to hear it.” She genuinely was, and this was reflected in her tone. Even still, she found herself glancing over Rail’s wounds again. Flicking her optics across his frame, looking for weak points, rust, damage to his welds. Everything looked pretty good, though she was glad to be keeping an optic on him for his first day back. She hadn't the faintest what he could do in the way of combat, or heavy lifting, in this condition or otherwise. And if need be? Patch was confident she could pick up the slack.
Coming up in height to the mech’s jaw line, it was easy enough to move in, and glance down at the tiny object in his servo. Reaching up for the side of his hand, to steady it while she amusedly examined the shiny little thing.
It was pretty. She appreciated the near microscopic detail, and found herself amazed that it could actually function at this scale. She did find herself wondering how Rail planned to operate the thing, though she assumed he had some sort of plan. Tweezers maybe? A tiny little probe to press the buttons? She also found herself curious as to who he’d made that promise to. Miko perhaps? She seemed to like pictures. And Raff was always curious about new places.
‘Middle Earth’… Sounded like some sort of hallowed ground. A sacred place where humans would congregate and-... Do, whatever it was humans did in groups. Eat, or, something... Either that or a tourist attraction. “‘Middle Earth’... Sounds Culty.” She said, smiling fervently and scrunching up her faceplate at the thing. Her tone still positively chipper at the notion of going out into the world, without having to hurt anybody. Glancing up from the object to look at him she asked “Say, where exactly are we heading anyway?”
At the nod, Patch responded with one of her own, as a more determined smile settled across her face, and she gave the mech some room to move. To shift into his own new form as she did her’s.
Patch’s transformation sequence was fast, in a single word. Attempting to entirely ignore the differences in how everything would fit together, and simply succeed at the task. She’d used this new alt what? Twice already? She should have had it down pat by now; and she lurched into the set of movements as though this was the case. Simply expecting herself to adapt, and pummeling through any hitches as she went. Which, though it sounded perhaps slightly scrapey, or painful at a few tiny intervals, resulted in a sharp, clean, confident transformation. Fit to be performed in cannon with hundreds of others holding a line.
Despite this fact, she waited patiently for Rail to finish his transformation. Actually falling into a slight mental ‘Ooh’ at the realization that she probably should have been careful herself with an alt so new. She was also aware of the state of Rail’s T-cog, and appreciated the fact he knew to take his time. She took the opportunity to listen to his cog pulse, paying attention to the tiny little details, making a mental map of how it sounded, in hopes that in the future, she’d be able to tell if it was getting better or worse.
Allowing the scout to take point, The white and red fly-car followed close to minimize the time the Ground Bridge would need to remain open. Planning to hold off on lights and sirens unless something went very wrong, Patch simply found herself gazing up on the other side of the portal, and admiring the scenery.
Rail was cruising down the road with complete lack of haste as he absorbed sensory data and spoke to Patch.
“And here we are. Heading south on Haast Highway, west coast of the South Island of a small country called New Zealand. We have the Tasman Sea to our right and the Southern Alps to our left. Very recent tectonic activity has set off some landslides and thusly a thirty kilometre section of road has been closed off leaving us free reign away from human optics. Honestly, while the indicators for an energon mine in this region are mostly present, we don’t have the liberty to search as far and wide as we’d like. Slim chances but the window of opportunity is unrivaled.”
It was the rare times like this when Rail was truly in his element of Energon ranger that he really opened up conversationally, a classical introvert in their zone. But even his focus on their quest wavered in the majestical beauty of the land. The scout had spent five years in space with little to do other than watch the occasionally intercepted TV broadcast of Nature documentaries. He had time then to appreciate the scenic splendour of this organic planet but he was still unprepared for what lay around him unspoilt. Rail breathed in deeply though his mass spectrometers and promptly started a brief coughing fit. He rolled to a halt and settled, mildly embarrassed.
Last Edit: Mar 10, 2019 17:35:22 GMT -5 by Deleted
He was moving so slow… He’d just said there was no one around, didn’t he? This was their opportunity to open up, and have a little fun! Patch felt they deserved to, what with everything that'd been going down at the base. She needed a break, and though she understood this wasn't one, she still figured it could serve as a some form of release.
Just a little normality, something plain, and simple. Easy to understand; Move fast, move forward. That’s what she liked. That’s what she needed. Though it would seem that wasn't quite this soldier’s style… And that was okay. Patch needed more people in her life like that. She just… Didn’t necessarily want what she needed at the moment.
But she’d still be good. Still settle herself, still try to relax. Cycle some air, try to be patient, enjoy that beautiful sky while she listened to the mech’s relaying of their purpose here.
This wasn't so bad, all things considered. It wasn't what she’d been expecting. It wasn't what she was used to. But it wasn't bad.
And then? He stalled.
“You okay? What happened?” The white fly car pulled up alongside him. Perhaps a bit closer than a human would attempt unless they where a very practiced driver. She was listening to his ventilation, his vocal relays, his engine. Trying to find the source of the problem. Was there a whine, was there a crackle? Was there smoke, or sent of burning rubber? Had something short circuited? Was something leaking into something else?
Rail felt chagrined because it was really such a trivial thing. “Failed to prepare myself for the local concentration of sodium chloride ions and molecules in the atmosphere…too much sea-spray.” He simplified. “Just temporarily overloaded my spectrometers was all. Recalibrated now.” Rail’s nose was sensitive for detecting minute trace quantities of various gases and ions associated with an energon leak. While he wasn’t especially sensitive to common table salt, the concentration in the air combined with the local humidity was just enough to short-circuit particular pathways. It took him a moment of concentration to adjust for the ionic and molecular weights of the chemical in question and have it pre-filtered out. Afterwards he began accelerating backup to speed.
After a moment of reflection he enquired to Patch “Not going too slow am I?” Rail wanted to just leave the question there without adding explanation, but at the same time he wanted to talk, and right now he trusted Patch as much as he could trust anyone. You always trust the cute friendly doctor who patched you up right? Rail did. Seeing the natural beauty here, pristine, unravaged by civilisation – if you excluded the road – had brought a revelation he didn’t like.
“I’m scared.” Hardly a revelation to anyone. “I’m scared for the cohort, and for this planet. You and I, we still have energon to spare, but the others don’t, I feel guilty for burning any at all. We don’t find any today, tomorrow will be even harder. My failure is their starvation. But even if we do find some crystals, we still have to dig and mine and refine. We’re already on our way to fragging over this planet like we did Cybertron. This right here, this unspoilt land and sky and sea is about as good as this planet gets and we’re here to start the very first act of ravaging all that is good. What right do we have? Or does being sentient mean we are the right?” Rail felt passionate about helping the other Autobots and he missed Cybertron from before the war, but he couldn’t yet resolve that with defiling another planet.
Flee or fight? He didn’t know. One part of him just wanted to burn rubber, disappear into the distance until rust overtook him forever. But he wanted to fight, to do the right thing but didn’t he just didn’t know what was right.
“Naw, you’re fine.” A lie. Not a terrible lie, (and not a terribly convincing one either). Though it wasn't entirely untrue. Patch was thankful Rail was going slow, he was still recovering from an injury. It was her going slow she didn’t like, putting along through the cool misty air, when she could have been putting this Earth vehicle’s speedometer to shame.
But what he said next… Surprised her. Patch trusted herself to be trusted by others. That was her job. She was good at her job.
But whoa. He was really opening up…
Patch found herself shocked by Rail's sudden lack of an emotion filter. He barely knew her, he’d met her yesterday. Pouring his spark out like this? Just like that, no warning, no provocation.
He must have been terrified...
That had been a serious no-go back on the frontlines. People tended to keep things bottled up to protect their image, to protect their badassery. Admitting you were scared, had been like admitting you were sick; something was wrong with you. Even though you needed help, you couldn't tell anyone, that was crazy! What if they pitied you? What if they called you a coward? Patch had done it a lot in the earlier days. Brushing things off, walking through the chaos with a shrug and a smile. That’s what she had needed to do as the young-aft’ book-smart runt of so many soldiers. She had needed to prove herself every fragging day just to get them to let her refuel, let alone listen to her as a medic, as an authority figure.
She’d learned to use a big guttural voice, how to throw her weight around to win in a wrestling match. Where to jab her digits into people when they got on her nerves, how to gesture profanities just right so your sergeant didn’t see…
She’d learned so much, about how to hide how you felt. About being “bigger” than that, about how not to lose her unit's attention with feelings, how to show them she had something to prove...
Then combat happened... And she lost them for real.
It hurt. It ached. She’d mourned in the foxholes, and the medical tents when she found out what had happened. When she saw with her own two optics what had become of them. She only wished she’d had a chance to tell them how she felt. To tell them she that she loved them like the earth term; ‘brothers’. If she had the chance to do it over again, she’d do it every slagging day…
Which is why she worked so hard to do it now.
It was a constant fight to maintain an open spark, and it hurt. It hurt a pit lot more than pretending to be butch like she had back then… But it was worth it. It was worth it when people -like Rail- could see that she was safe. That she was willing to listen. That she was willing to help.
The fact that he would open up like this, told Patch a lot about him. He was sensitive. He really truly trusted her. And he must have been genuinely frightened. Perhaps more so than he’d ever been in his life...
Primus, this mech must have been so green...
“-Whoa, whoa whoa whoa, slow down.” She interrupted at the end of his train of thought. Heavy words, spoken low and smooth, though they were conversational. She paused for a moment, as she thought through what she wanted to say. Patch understood, his turning to her like this, meant she probably had a lot of influence over him. That was not something she was about to shirk off.
“Rail, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” Practiced words, as her alt mode hummed emotionless along the road behind him. Clearly spoken hundreds of times under stress. They were meant to be reassuring. Letting him know she was taking control now, that he could relax.
“We, are doing everything we can to protect this planet. You, and me and everyone; that’s why we’re here. to protect the native life, to protect the humans, and to keep our cause alive.” Teasing amusement began to seep into her voice as she continued. Speaking through a smile you could hear in her voice. “And you have not failed anyone, don’t talk like that. You’ve been here a day, dude. That’s not enough time to fail yourlife’s mission, believe me.”
”It’s gonna be okay.”
If she needed to, Patch figured she could lighten the situation with a jab at how he’d just assumed she was good on energon… She’d been there a week, she was fraggin’ hungry. But, she’d give him a chance to respond first. Maybe Rail had more he needed to say, and if so, she wanted to keep the conversation nice and open.