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.
Oh Primus, you're going to be a nightmare. A sweet and doting nightmare, Cleaver clarified to herself of the not-new realization that suddenly landed on her like a substantial lead weight, but still a nightmare.
"Thanks, Cat. 'm sure I can find a use for you," Cleaver replied, bringing her optics back into focus on the human scrubbing away dilligently at her task. She couldn't have asked for a better assistant - hardworking, keen and always eager to learn. Cat would probably enjoy performing some light maintenance on herself for all the little things associated with carriage.
But like slag was she going to make that offer infront of Ironhide.
Cleaver turned to the red mech with a smile, tempered for Cat's I'm-totally-not-staring presence but not by much. "Thanks for the help in here. How long until you need to get back to base?"
It was a matter of remembering to ventilate and keeping alerts on the words said around him, bumping them up in priority over the endless loops in his processor about The Sparkling. It let Ironhide react in a timely fashion to Cleaver's question, without any undue lag. "Got a few breem left. Was cleanin' out the last of th' mess out front - yeh want meh t' keep doing that, or yeh got more bits in here need rearrangin'?" He spread his hands wide. "Yeh tell meh what an' where, Ah'll do it."
Cleaver twitched her head in the negative, taking a step towards the cupboard to lift Cat and the cleaning supplies up to the next shelf. "Reckon Cat and I have a handle on things in here, and those rocks need moving, thank you."
She offered a hand to Cat, waiting for the human to steady herself on her palm, the bucket in one hand and her thumb in the other as a support, before slowly elevating her. Once she'd stepped off again, Cleaver looked back to Ironhide. "Ping me before you need to go back, alright? I'll come by."
As Catherine stepped onto Cleaver's palm (a practiced movement and seemingly comfortable space) she leaned out just enough, hand on Cleaver's thumb, to shoot Ironhide a bright grin, the mischief in it somehow elevated by the angle of her glasses. A grin that was most certainly related to the previous conversation of Apache modifications and the amount of help she could provide with them...
With steady feet and a usual bounce in her step she went from palm to shelf, arranging the bucket towards the end to begin. Sponge in hand, and after a few swipes on the surface of the shelf, she looked up just enough to add: "Or if you need any help, you know, strategically resizing rocks for more efficient sorting." The nice way of saying 'blow shit up and kick it to the side'. Her grin grew by a tooth or two before she submerged her sponge again, getting right back to it. That she did continue working without much pause showed, despite her side comments, she had no qualms staying in the 'Bay. This was where she usually hung out, anyway, if she wasn't in her own space...
Ironhide grinned. The little human's enthusiasm notwithstanding, he had no intention of allowing Cat, or any other small - and fragile - organic anywhere near where he was blast shaping out the atrium to Cleaver's specifications. "Ah think Ah've got it in hand, thanks. Whole lot of cleanin' needs doin', so if yeh get th' scrubbin' then Ah'll get th' rock haulin'."
To Cleaver, he pulsed a warm assent. "Should have th' worst of it finished today. Ah'll ping yeh before Ah have t' go back." Primus knew he was more use doing that then setting up a medbay to a medic's specifications, short of shoving furniture around, and Cleaver had that well in hand already. Smiling, he sketched her half of a lazy, amused salute and, with a last nod at Cat, headed back out.