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.
"Mmmm...more. My favorite word." Knock Out finished with the grinder and repeated the process with the nanite lubricant in the joint, this time sliding a claw over a particularly ticklish node on his way out. With his frame half-locked down, Downforce would feel it but wouldn't be able to do more than twitch, physically.
He brought the leg away to grind and change out parts again. "You'd better watch it, glitch, or I'll take you up on it some day. Make you be my own personal spa-bot: oil bath, wire massage, full detailing and lube...the works."
::Cannibal? What, are they scaring each other with spark-eater tales again?:: Knock Out vented as he stripped out a tension cable that had no more tension left to speak of. ::Honestly, someone should take the horror movies away from them.::
"Oh, sir!" It came out on a higher note than he intended, streaking into a clip of static that sounded less breathless and more like someone had just deliberately sent a crawling itch through his struts. Downforce cycled a ventilation and rebooted his vocalizer and tried again. "Oh, sir, just say the word. I'd be delighted. Honored. And I do very very good detailing, I've been told I'm very good with my hands."
::No movies,:: he commed back, and oh, that really itched but he couldn't move even if he wanted to. Downforce cycled a heavier vent, trying to make it sound like his fans needed it for more reasons then just to try to not think about the things going on in his hip socket. ::Rumor - backed up by video feed - says it's that deserter, Serotype. Femme took out Jeff's entire squad. I'm surprised she hasn't gone running to the 'Bots by now. I wouldn't want to be out there on my own - grit. Everywhere. Organic grit. Can you imagine?::
There were times, Knock Out had to admit, that he could almost wish that The Glitch was not locked down. He'd be SO much fun to play with.
"Mmm...I'll keep that in mind."
Knock Out finished with the leg and repeated the attachment, completing the alignment in the process. He flicked a finger at the abused rubber of Downforce's tires. "Hmm...you might clean up well enough, I suppose. And I do love a mech with good hands...."
::Grit. Ugh. You mean like THIS grit, in your seams?:: Knock Out dragged a finger up Downforce's side seam a little more than necessary as he did one last scan. :: Well, well. Didn't think she had it in her. Where did the cannibalism part come in? Scavenging the parts, I assume?::
"Very good with my hands, sir," Downforce gasped as his hip relays were reattached. "Very willing. Any time. Honest."
Which was both honest and not nearly as questionable as it sounded - he was very good at detailing paint finishes, and would be perfectly willing to do so if Knock Out wanted. He'd done touchups on Eradicons and an entire detailing repaint on Fairwinds often enough, and really, the doctor's paint finish was a thing of beauty. Downforce put the honest offer in his glyphs, expressing a willingness to play spa and errand mech whenever wanted, no ulterior motive beyond the medical care he already bartered for.
::Part scavenging,:: Downforce confirmed over comms, deliberately setting his vents to a higher cycle. ::Could have been Serotype. Hoping it was - better her than natives.::
Knock Out's glyphs clearly indicated what he thought of the "natives". The glyph for insect-small was there, as well as disgusting-wet, followed up with mewling sacks of barely-sentient protoplasm ripe for extermination.
Nonetheless, he didn't let it break the mood.... The medic leaned in, one hand resting on the berth next to The Glitch's head to brace his weight. "Oh, don't I know it," he purred in Downforce's audial, "You're always so...EAGER to please. I like that in a patient." He slowly moved a hand down Downforce's chassis, not touching, just scanning. The Glitch still needed a full alignment and new primary pads. "It makes our little sessions here so much more...ENJOYABLE. It's so gratifying to know that all of my hard work is appreciated."
Knock Out kept the usual smarm in his voice, but he had to admit that it was true. The rank and file might joke about how the medic job was cushy, but none of them had ever had to pull triple shifts patching together spark and frame and processor with razor-thin margins of error and Command breathing down their necks to not waste resources. Being the only medic on the ship meant that every maintenance checkup, every glitch, every seized joint, every torn cable and crossed wire and lost limb and unsynced laser core and cracked spark casing was his to deal with. He was BUSY. Downforce's little glitch made extra work for Knock Out, but the medic had always found the frontliner willing to barter fairly for the extra hassle, with a minimum of whining. And on a ship full of high-ranking officers (and an increasingly unstable warlord), that went a long way.
And, as if to make his point, the medbay door opened to admit a seeker (Brightflame, Technical Sergeant, prone to transformation glitches and a laser core flutter that he did not appreciate Knock Out NEARLY enough for fussing with) who did NOT have an appointment. Knock Out ignored him for the moment.
After all, his finish was looking a bit dull...and an oil bath was always nice....
Knock Out smiled at Downforce as he slowly straightened. "Mmm, I just might take you up on that. Next decavorn? You bring the wax, I'll provide the oil bath, and we'll trade...service for service."
Brightflame's vents caught in a sputtering cough, red optics wide and flicking between Knock Out and Downforce.
Knock Out sighed. "What is it? I'm busy, as you can see."
The seeker took a klik to find his vocalizer. "It...is...nothing important, sir. I will just...come back later. Much later. When you're not as...busy."
Brightflame then turned and fled with a clatter of wings, the comm lines no doubt already lighting up with "oh Primus, you will never guess what I just saw...."
Knock Out smirked down at Downforce, who smirked and looked as if he would have wiggled delightedly if it wouldn't have gotten him in trouble. "Now. Where were we? Oh yes...next decavorn. I'll let you think about it while I change out your pads and...align you to my liking...."
::One wonders where Serotype has been getting her energon. I would say the Autobots, but even they would never allow a 'signia switcher to wander about by herself. She must be scrounging it up herself, though she never struck me as particularly resourceful.:: Knock Out grinned. ::Did you hear about the time she...::
Downforce had not but was all too happy to listen.
When Downforce emerged from the medbay, he was perfectly maintained, exactingly aligned, and possessed of an appointment to be the medic's personal spa-bot next decavorn. Knock Out was in good spirits and took great pleasure in making Brightflame twitch when the seeker returned...much later.
<<Fin?>>
<<Let me know if anything seems off or we want to finish it another way?>>