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.
"I'll let you him know when I see him next." Which wouldn't too long in coming. Jazz still seemed to need to seek out hirself and Ironhide at least once a day to confirm they weren't just hallucinations brought on by Space-Crazy. "And don't worry about it he's the easy going sort."
Slowly but surely the tension was melting from Bumblebees doorwings. The rest of him starting to follow suit. "You should probably come to me for help with your doorwings more often Bee, there was tension build up older than tonight."
Bumblebee shifted uncomfortably, a little embarrassed about it now that someone besides cranky old Ratchet was chiding him about his upkeep. He knew that he didn’t check himself to the letter like he was supposed to, defrag regularly, do system flush and plating work ups or engine tests. He generally just waited until Ratchet got sick of hearing the slight misfirings of Bumblebee’s lazily tuned systems and held him down for a check up – the price he paid for being lazy on a daily basis. He wiggled his doorwings a bit sheepishly.
‘Yeah, okay. Um, if you wanna that might be fine.’ Aww, nuts and bolts, he needed to stop questioning Bluestreak’s willingness to help him, the sniper was starting to give him this sideways look like ‘Are your audios malfunctioning or something?’ The scout whirred a bit, optics shifting down to the floor. ‘Er, maybe I could get your help with some of my defrag and stuff? I kinda put that kind of stuff off…’
Bluestreak smiled as Bumblebee conceded the point. "For a mech with a mask you're very good at putting your foot in the mouth."
The scouts door wings were almost done. Most of the tension having bled out from his frame. Ou teased him playfully, Poking at a node there that ou knew would send a sensation like tickling down his body.
"Sure, I don't mind helping you. I could use the help some time too we'll help each other deal?"
The scout squirmed at the poke and sat up after a moment, body whirring and humming easily, the hiss of hydraulics healthy and clean for once. He twitched his doorwings experimentally, marveling at how much better that felt. Clearly Bluestreak had some idea what ou was doing when it came to plucking at sore hydraulic lines and Bee conceded that maybe the other mechanism had some experience with bad flux.
The scout still didn’t know Bluestreak quite well enough to ask what plagued the other Bot’s recharge cycles – whether Bluestreak dreamed in reds and ion yellows, cannon fire and the beating of artillery. Or maybe Blue saw Barricade in the dark now, or some other past horror, or maybe ou didn’t see anything – his sensor net feeding back the echo of past damages across healthy neural hardware.
Bee chirred a little, plates shifting a little uncomfortably, as if meaning to take a less guarded configuration, but balking like he wasn’t sure how or used to doing so, the nephrite blue of his optics flickering uncomfortably across the walls. He briefly watched the revolution of the holo-projection of stars across his walls, the long gone constellations of Cybertron, some of those hundreds of moons knocked from their orbits since. He looked back at Bluestreak’s Prauxian designed face, all clean lines and smooth angles and wondered what hir original function had been – if Blue had been sparked with the trajectories of rifle shots spinning in hir head, or if those had been learned.
Maybe Blue had been one of those allowed to choose their own course like in the pre-war times. When the rich could afford to coddle the free will and preference of their creations.
‘Thanks, Bluestreak. It… that really helps.’ Another pause. ‘I was dreaming about Tygar Pax… I was there.’
Last Edit: Apr 10, 2012 10:23:19 GMT -5 by bumblebee
Oh, no Autobot worth their sigil didn't know about Tyger Pax. About the tragedy there and the loss, that Bee was a survivor...Bluestreak couldn't stop herself if ou wanted to and could only hope it could. Ou moved close to the scout and wrapped hir arms around him.
"Oh Bee..."
It seemed that the two of them had more in common that ou thought. EMF Suddenly strong with sympathetic understanding and word even a talkative bot as hirself could say.
Bee didn’t look up from the floor, which had become very, very interesting to the scout all at once. Bluestreak’s physical hold on him seemed, all at once far away. He fidgeted a little bit, doors twitching slightly, optics remaining downcast. You didn’t need to say much more than ‘I was at Tygar Pax’ to get that reaction. So much had gone wrong there, so many horror stories that really the specifics of Bumblebee’s experience could have been easily covered in the blanket statement – I am a Tygar Pax survivor. Those who fought and died in that brief, brutal, near-suicidal battle were still with Bumblebee, carried in his memory core like ghosts in the machine of his mind waiting to come alive for an instant in his dreams before obliterating again in Megatron’s cannon fire.
Until there was no one left… just him looking up…
Bee offlined his optics, irised them shut. ‘I’m okay. I just remember sometimes, in defrag, and it’s hard to remember I already lived it.’
Well, if Bee was going to bear his spark ou should do the same, it was only fair.
"I understand more than most would I think. Do you remember Praux?"
Silly question really that's like asking some one if they remember Tyger Pax, or what happened to the Crystal city.
"I'm the only survivor of the city. I only survived 'cause I'm mostly grey and who ever made me hid me under some dead bodies..."
It was impossible to keep the shudder from the frame as ou hugged a little closer to the bright yellow scout.
"I was small so I don't remember details or even what my original creators looked like but I remember fire and screaming and those bodies... It was luck Ironhide found me, raised me. I got REAL lucky but... I don't recharge often without the memories coming back."
Wow that was a depressing way of saying 'you're not alone'. Smooth move Blue you probably made it worse.
Bee sat up, turning himself around to face the other mechanoid. He didn’t really feel like saying anything so he just leaned forward and bumped his helm against Blue’s, optics flickering as a spark of contact energy jumped from alloy to alloy. He didn’t move, not visibly, but the rhythm of his engines shifted to match Bluestreak’s until they were both cycled to a low even hum, the vibration of it transmitting minutely through their slight contact. The pitch of his EM frequency altered, shifting into a more friendly register, more relaxed.
“Thanks, Blue.” He glanced down, then up again. “If you want to bunk here, you can, you know. It helps sometimes… if someone’s just in the same room.”
Bluestreak smiled as their helms pressed together the feel of contact, of not being alone washed away the shadows memories had been bringing back. Doorwings fluttering behind hir as their engines synced up. EMF warm and affectionate.
Ou didn't seem to need as much recharge as others did ou didn't know why. But the offer was a good one and really ou liked to have the company.
"I'd liked that a lot Bee, thank you"
<Fin>
Last Edit: Apr 30, 2012 20:56:35 GMT -5 by Deleted