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.
Bulk's ability to talk himself deeper into trouble was...oddly impressive. It was getting harder and harder to keep from laughing, and judging by his reaction, Bulkhead was reading that as I am going to murder you in recharge and recycle your parts. And then he screamed...
"What?" she demanded, redirecting her laughter into a startled yelp of her own. She turned, following the path of his optics, and even knowing what she was looking for she almost missed the flick of Steeljaw's tail as he vanished through the groundbridge.
She huffed - not laughing, not laughing, oh Primus Bulk's expression, no, still not laughing - and glared at him. "Are you glitched? Do I need to cancel my patrol so you can go see Ratchet?"
"No!" That came out almost squeaked but Primus, everyone squeaked when threatened with untimely visits to Ratchet. "No, no, I'm fine, it's just... I thought..."
Shadowrunner was still staring at him like she thought she had probably better comm Ratchet right then and Bulkhead cringed. "It's nothing," he assured her hastily. "Just some glare in my optics, been staring at these fraggin' monitors too long. It's really nothing. I'm fine. You just... go on, do your patrol thing. I'm good." To emphasize this he plunked himself back down in the monitor chair, trying for a grin that came out a little sickly. "All good! We're good, right?"
"Yeah, we're good," Shadow said, tone and field both conveying extreme doubt. She gave Bulkhead another frowning stare, until his grin took on a fixed, desperate quality, then she dropped into her alt mode and tore through the swirling vortex of the ground bridge, barely managing to contain her laughter until she was safely out in the desert sun and the bridge was collapsing behind her.
She hit the brakes almost immediately, skidding to a dusty stop right next to where Steeljaw crouched, barely disguised by some brush. Her door popped open in invitation, and she hastily folded and reconfigured her interior so that, instead of individual seats, Steeljaw had a cushioned platform to stretch out on.
Then she lost it, laughing so hard her vents locked and her frame trembled. ::Oh Primus,:: she said, resorting to comms, her field and glyphs filled with unholy glee, ::you should have seen his face!::
Steeljaw mashed his face into Shadow's upholstery, his own laughter stuttering so hard out of his vents that he was shaking from helm to tail tip and couldn't even be bothered about the granules of sandy dirt clinging to his pedes. "Oh Primus," he gasped, vocalizer streaked in static. "Did he... ha! ...did he actually... SCREAM?"
His vocalizer gave out with a trill of feedback and Steeljaw collapsed, glyphs layering hilarity and glee, laughing so hard his plates clattered. ::He SCREAMED! Oh Primus, that was almost better than Blaster!::
::He screamed,:: Shadow confirmed, glyphs just a tad too delighted, ::like we had a swarm of scraplets coming out of that vent instead of one evil basement cat.:: She gleefully pinged Steeljaw with an image capture of Bulk's expression. ::And I'm fairly certain he's convinced I'm going to materialize in his quarters some night and murder him in recharge.::
She made an effort to compose herself enough that she could pull back onto the road, intermittent laughter still trembling through her as she accelerated. "The best part is, Bulk's scheduled to be my patrol partner next week." That almost started the laughter again; she controlled it only because her speed had already topped 90 and was rapidly climbing for 100, and she suspected a high-speed rollover was not likely to be Jaws' idea of a good time...at least, not without sufficient warning. "What do you want to bet he finds someone to trade?"
Steeljaw was still snickering as he crawled forward, levering himself up to get a glimpse out of the femme's front windows. "I'm going to owe him," he admitted, laughter rippling through his plates and field. "I promised him a record of the whole thing with Blaster in exchange for watching my monitor shift for me. Of course," he added philosophically, "he agreed to that because he owes ME for stepping on my tail. So maybe we're even."
The feel inside of a small moving individual versus the feel of a ship was quite a bit different; Steeljaw braced himself carefully, trying to learn the feel of wheels on pavement which was, itself, vastly different from the wheels on the smooth thoroughfares that had criss crossed Cybertron. Sunlight - brighter than he remembered, rich and yellow - streamed through her windows and beyond the clear partitions was a landscape as utterly unlike the Amazon as it was unlike Cybertron. Fascinated, Steeljaw settled all four pedes underneath him, the better to balance, and watched the landscape rushing by.
"I like this better than the rainforest," he admitted. "Oh, and speaking of Blaster..." He packaged up the entire morning, including the incriminating security footage of drunken stumbling the night before, and pinged her with it.
If she hadn't been in her alt mode, Shadow would have smirked at the mention of Bulkhead; as it was, she was quite sure her field conveyed the expression. "The way I was guilt tripping the poor mech, I think he'll be more than happy to call you even so long as no one ever mentions the tail incident again. Even if I did lay things on just a little thick."
Because his reaction was slagging hilarious.
Steeljaw had settled with his face all but pressed against her window, his attention obviously taken by the desert sliding past. It was a novelty to have a passenger who wasn't human, one with a proper EMF that she could feel as something more than an animated weight against her seats. It was also, Shadow decided after a few miles, more comfortable than she had expected - the press of field and frame not so very different from curling up together in root mode, better in that it didn't require her to hold still - and the realization made her field brighten with an extra bit of welcome/pleasure that he was with her.
She accepted the data packet with a glyph of thanks and unpacked just enough to see Blaster reel into a wall, bounce off, and stagger straight into the opposite wall; a peel of laughter made her wheels skip slightly on the pavement. "Primus," she said, turning her attention back to the empty road, but still snickering softly, "I'll have to watch that while we're standing still, or you're going to discover why the humans have seatbelt laws."
Speed limits, on the other servo...
Nothing but empty desert and empty roads surrounded them for miles, making this the perfect route for blowing out all the stops and moving. Or showing off, which was why she and Bumblebee were no longer allowed to do this patrol route together.
(Not that she wasn't showing off for Jaws, but showing off for a passenger involved more flat-out speed and fewer physics-defying turns likely to end with a painful snap and a lecture from Ratchet. Though, thank Primus, it had been Bee who got the lecture.)
If she had been alone, Shadow would have opened all four windows and let the dry, hot desert winds whip through her interior while she blasted music at ridiculous volume, but she doubted Steeljaw would thank her for covering him in a fine layer of dust, or forcing him to resort to comms and shouting if they wanted to talk. She compromised with one partially lowered back window, just enough to allow currents of heat-scented air to eddy around her interior.
"Just tell me to slow down if you actually want to see anything," she said cheerfully, as the road began to climb into foothills. "Though, at this speed we should cover the route with at least three breem for basking, before anyone even starts to expect me back."
The scenery went from rushing to flying, a tan-red-black-gold-blue blur beyond Shadow's windows. It was soothing in a way, surreal, and then she partially lowered one window to let a warm whirl of wind blow through her interior. Steeljaw could only imagine how that felt but against his own plates it was heat-atmospheric pressure-motion and that, really, was a lot like falling.
Only with living Cybertronian alloy beneath his pedes, which made it more like.... his processor flailing for an analogy and finally unarchived a very old sense impression of being scooped up and whirled through the air in one of Uplink's more exuberant moments and yes, it was very like that. And he'd never minded that, not really - there had been a period, in his youngling frame, when it'd been a game to see if he could jump on his carrier unexpectedly, and half of the fun had been Uplink catching him in mid leap and tossing him into the air.
Steeljaw watched the colors of the alien landscape stream past, flared his plates to the breeze, and let his engine purr his enjoyment into Shadowrunner's interior. "Faster," he told her shamelessly. "Faster is good." Faster was good just for its own sake, but then there would be breems for stretching out in the utterly decadent sunlight, atop Shadowrunner's wide, flat hood, alloy beneath him and solar energy feeding into and warming every system. That sounded like the perfect reward for a dastardly morning of being the very worst mech he could be; obviously Primus had an excellent sense of humor and shared his opinion of the stupidity of overindulgence. Steeljaw certainly wasn't going to argue.
<<fin! jaws + shadow's hood OTP!>>
Last Edit: Jun 30, 2012 21:24:07 GMT -5 by Deleted