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.
The acoustics of groundbridges were WEIRD, Jazz had learned long ago. Space-time wormholes did really strange things to sound waves. Go figure.
Nonetheless, Jazz had perfected the art of making SOMETHING out of them. Just the right combination of harmonics and timing and he could get an eerie but cheerful space-time-continuum-distorted whistling going, echoing oddly behind him like his own personal attendant.
Which was why the groundbridge opened up to spit out most of the refrain of "Secret Agent Man" along with Jazz himself.
"--given you a number, and taken away your naaaa~ame!"
<<This scene is open in any way that makes sense. It is excuse for Jazz to be wandering about the Neutral base, meetin' folks. He's probably doing something securityish for Cleaver, but he'll meet Sides and/or Cat first. Anyone else who'd like to meet the Jazzmeister can pile in in sequence. >>
“And that,” said Sideswipe, shutting down the groundbridge and leaning back against the console, looking supinely superior in every fragging way, “is why ya don’t leave Jazz unsupervised ‘round yur inter-dimensional rift generators – crazy gearslip uses them for a microphone.”
Despite Sideswipe’s words to the contray Cat, who was observing from her perch on Sideswipe’s shoulder guard, seemed impressed. He rolled his optics dramatically before offer the spec ops bot one of his best and most winning ‘totally-not-lying-to-you’ smiles. It had been nearly half a month since his disastrous near-death crash and burn with his half-dead brother at the Bot Base. The control room had since then become a repository for Sidewipe’s junk and spare parts from the POS. In other words, it looked like a tornado had blown through.
“Hey, Jazz. If yur here for th’ security check, Cleaver’s suddenly extreme busy-like an’ can’t be bothered t’accommodate yur ninja aft, bruv. She’s straight occupied. Guess Cat’n’me’ll have to walk you through it.”
She was observing, and she was also lounging, elbow propped to support her leaning weight nearest Red's helm, legs crossed and casually picking through a magazine. Perfectly comfortable, it seemed, nestled between armor guards and balanced way up high. But at the mention of her name, she adjusted enough so that she could lean forward to a more direct position, work boots braced at the front of his shoulder. Mentally she checked him over to see if any part matched 'Shot's description. 'Certainly fits the 'slick' part.'
"'Ey, Jazz! Nice to meet you." Cat flashed a grin around her frames, bright green and slender today.
If Jazz was kind of surprised that Sideswipe would be getting on so well with a human (and he was, just a bit, given how bad off Sides had been when he'd left with Cleaver), it wasn't apparent. Especially since her presence meant that Sideswipe was somewhat...at a disadvantage?
Jazz's grin widened as he walked right up to Sideswipe. Sides saw something coming--as his optics widened, then narrowed in suspicion and promise of bloody murder--but, with a very squishy friend on his shoulder, he couldn't very well make any sudden moves.
So when Jazz walked right up to Sideswipe and put his arms around his waist in a big hug, Sideswipe just had to stand there and take it. "That's ok," Jazz said, laying his head against Sideswipe's unoccupied shoulder and looked up at him with a sad, sad field. "I'll bug Cleaver later about how she doesn't love me. I'm just so glad to see you, Sides. I missed you! You never write, you never call...I was so worried!"
Jazz blinked his visor in a wink at Cat and reached up to wave at her. "Hey there! Nice to meet ya! You must be Cat. You keepin' my main mech here outta trouble?"
Oh no, it’s the schemey-Jazz look. He’s scheming schemey things. What do I do? I could run, maybe, but then he’d make fun of me forever and Cat would never shut up about it and Cleaver might hear about it and try to make me sit down and talk about my feelings or something. Then, when I don’t cooperate: skull punching. I don’t want to be skull-punched but - oh no! He’s going for it! The little opportunistic –!
“Ahhh, okay.” So this is happening.
Sideswipe grimaced, back strut going rigid as the saboteur yanked him into a very tight, touchy-feely, around the waist hug. Urgh. Great. It was one of those trademark long-wave EM snuggle grabs too, as if the holding and the shoulder pillow were not enough. Sideswipe could not have projected his electromagnetic displeasure enough without blowing fuses… not that Jazz cared; that only seemed to encourage the little crankshaft. Fuuuuuuuuuck.
Punching was in order, clearly.
Buuuut Cat was on his should and so very typically squishable and Jazz seemed just so Primus-bedamned pleased with himself. Even if denting Jazz’s helm would have been preferable to him, Sides didn't do it. After all, Jazz trying to steal hugs was a time honored tradition dating back to Kaon when Sideswipe discovered that Jazz was a slippery little spawn of a glitch and had designs on your spark. There was no simple with Jazz, just... an abyss of essential Jazzness.
“Worry less. Ain’t generally makin’ a habit of pickin’ scraps with his Lord Buckethead when I can help it.” Sideswipe looked over at the human perched on his shoulder, blue optics narrowing. “Cat, however, would be thrilled ta get me in trouble, has several times already. Thanks by th’ way, cuz.”
Catherine's face steadily changed as Jazz closed in, her own expression opposite in exactly every way from Sideswipe's grimace, eyes twinkling from the smile that she was trying to hide. Apparently, she got the hint that she was helping some greater cause. And in the way she smirked at Jazz, remained casually perched on Sideswipe's shoulder, it appeared as though she supported this greater cause. After all. She'd never seen him squirm before.
But Sides beat her to the reply, so she settled for giving Jazz a look through it all. A shrugged 'you know how it goes' type look.
"You get you in trouble." She shot back, turning from Jazz to match Side's narrow-eyed expression with one of her own. Challenging, but playful. "You should have enough damn life experience to make good choices." And then raised her brows above the green frames for a look of innocence. It kind of worked, with the glasses (maybe or maybe not one of the reasons why she wore them). "All I do is make little suggestions for games that would be fun!"
Jazz smiled. "Games, huh? Sounds like someone I know." He tilted his head up to look at Sideswipe pointedly. "Sounds like you two get along just FABULOUS. I'm sure that Cleaver's SO glad you've got each other to entertain. And by entertain I mean encourage."
Jazz knew Sideswipe, and he was a fairly good judge of character (even when that character was stuffed into a tiny organic body), so he was almost 100% sure that Cleaver actually rued the day she'd ever let the two of them meet, but eh, details.
He raised a finger solemnly. "As one of Sideswipe's oldest and dearest friends, I approve of this. If there's anything he needs, it's more temptation. He's such a staid and stodgy type. Can hardly EVER get him to have ANY fun. Never been able to talk him into ANY shenanigans, EVER." He looked up at Sideswipe, face mock-serious. "And really...everyone needs more shenanigans."
Then there was more hugging. Besides...he was already going to get punched...might as well make it worth it.
“Jazz,” said Sideswipe in that kind of thunderous murder-ific voice he managed when he was thinking about trash compacting someone with his pile drivers. “‘Oldests and dearest friend’… you don’t stop huggin’ on me an’ Imma dead you, scan?”
The funny thing was if it was another mech, Sideswipe might have cared less. But it was Jazz. So he cared. But since Cat was here, prying Jazz off and throwing the bitty sneak-mech like a shot-put was not in the cards and he would have to settle for threats and postponement of all major bodily harm that might need be done to the grinning doofus. Jazz knew him and that was always a dangerous thing and worse, the grinning spy-bot had this nasty habit of legitimately giving a slag and in that annoying invasive ‘Are you okay?’ kind of way. Their last interaction had been him dryheaving in the racks after Sunny’s near death and whether Jazz meant it or not there was some of that last scene in the embrace, goofy or not.
Side shot Cat a sidelong look.
“And you,” he said, pointing a finger at her, the blue light off his optics making her face glow, light bouncing off her glassed. “You were th’ one suggestin’ DDR in a public place. Any fuckin’ shenanigans that bloody followed were all yur fault, innit?”
"Okay first:" Her accent thickened, as it usually did when she got any type of attitude, flagging an oncoming barrage of English-Italian stew. And this, obviously, was important enough to represent these points with fingers. Points on pointing fingers pointing right back at Sides. "Dark, hole-in-the-wall place with some tweens an' teens, 'kay, we weren't in the fucking Mall of America."
"SECOND:" She settled, attempting to keep her angry face despite all of the energy very noticeably vanishing the moment her shoulders fell. Like she was deciding something. Biting her lip… before letting the english out in a low tone muffled by sudden turns of her head, "I… might take a little bit of the responsibility for some of those shenanigans… BUT! everyone needs more shenanigans, so says the Jazz, your oldest and dearest, so…" A thoughtful frown, a small shrug, and suddenly the magazine seemed conveniently interesting.
Jazz was grinning, optics flicking back and forth between them.
Sideswipe had made a FRIEND. It wasn't that it was unheard-of, just.... He'd been worried, after their last encounter. This was by far the most slagged Sunstreaker had ever been, and he hadn't been sure how Sideswipe would take it. Jazz had been concerned that the Neutral base would be too empty, would give Sideswipe too much time to brood.
Instead...this. Watching the two interact, Jazz felt a wave of fondness for Cat. She was obviously filling a void in Sideswipe's life. The very idea that a small human could fill any part of the very obvious, Sunstreaker-sized hole was both miraculous and vastly amusing.
"There was DDR?" Jazz schooled his expression into a sparkbroken pout, looking up at Sideswipe with sad optics. "There was Sideswipe playing DDR? In PUBLIC? And I MISSED it?"
“Yeah, bruv.” Sideswipe rolled his eyes so hard he got a couple warning messages. “Givin’ my hard-light avatar a straight run through th’ gears. Dumbest thing I done since I landed on dis rock. I get here, figure out th’ online market, hack a couple computers, build half a dozen online businesses, make myself a fuckin citizen in four dozen countries, download bare languages, hire people, never ever came th’ slightest close to blowin’ my cover.” He glared at Cat, like he could make her little magazine and her head burst into flames just by sheer force of irritation. “Fuckin’ arcade, Mall of America slag. I don’t got a clue how Cleaver does it all th’ time. Being among the squishes straight hassle, innit, an’ you monkeys got a global data-web so I don’t get goin’ in person if ya ain’t gotta.”
He shuddered, clearly thinking of all the cat-food magazine subscriptions Cleaver was no doubt signing up for right now.
“Then again,” he said, in Italian this time,”I think it slows her down a bit when she gotta go herself.” Sides abandoned that thought there, turning his cringe into a grin before he threw a lazy punch at Jazz’s shoulder. “Nice seein’ ya when one of us ain’t savaged. I’ll show ya the trouble spot.” He jerked his head toward one of the side corridors, though carefully, as to not disturb his human passenger. “C’mon.”
While Sideswipe's attention turned to Jazz, so did Catherine's. She took advantage of the opportunity of being in the shadow of Side's helm, the light of his optics cast down to the shorter Jazz, to add her comments in the most natural way possible without interrupting. Making faces, using hand signals for crazy!Sides, whiny!Sides, dull!Sides, mouthing Can you believe this guy?! No, it was awesome. He totally liked it.' to Jazz as he spoke before SNAP back into position when he turned that glare (significantly more heated glare..) back on her. Innocent.
Stayed innocent until that bit passed and gave way to the entire purpose of today. She folded the magazine over a finger to mark her place, grinning at Jazz and Sides both as they began the move towards business. "You know, we can get a DDR machine for the rec room… 'M sure Moonie would even help supersize one."
Sat on a berth at the back of the Medbay, Cleaver had straightened at the weirdest sound to ever come out of a groundbridge, stiffening with alertness. Then she was pinged by her memo that Jazz was due in six kliks, and had relaxed back into threading out the line from her chassis with a smile.
Setting the supplement vial aside, the femme flexed her abdominal plates in a tessellating flutter and listened to Sideswipe greeting his friend. A short time later Cat's voice joined in the exchange. Much as she was content to leave the red mech to direct Jazz and enjoy the banter, the deal had been for Jazz to come over and see her for work in exchange for future-bar-credits.
Taking a leisurely pace, Cleaved slid down from the berth and made her way out to the Atrium just as the trio were about to vanish into one of the tunnels.
She flicked a blade in greeting. "Mornin', Jazz. Not got these two filling your processor with ideas of automated turrets and lasers for this security thing, have you? 'cause I'll be having some words about that."
'Words' was pitched to mean something far more physical than soundwaves through the air.
<< OCC: Cleaver's here because she and Jazz arranged this gig. She can fade out pretty quick when 'Sides brushes her off so he can play Jazz'n'Cat banter. ^^ Permission to puppet her out if I don't tag back within a few days.>>
Last Edit: Sept 8, 2012 12:07:51 GMT -5 by Deleted
Jazz looked at Cleaver solemnly. "Cleaver. Sides was Dance Dance Revolutioning. And you did not tell me. I feel sad and betrayed that you would keep such a thing from cohort. Do you not love me? Am I not good enough?" Jazz deployed the puppy optics, then turned his head away. "No, no, it's all right. You don't have to say it. I know you don't like me as much as the other kids. That's fine. I understand...."
He broke the act with a smile cracked her way, which then itself broke back into turbopuppy optics. "No lasers? But...not even a little one? Detection lasers? I need detectors for the traps and pitfalls...."
Sideswipe’s optics flickered incrementally at the word ‘cohort’ and several things reorganized in his head and to shuffled into the ‘weird and bizarre do not touch it’ category. Several of those things were things he did not want sorted into that category thanks, but Jazz – gutter-spark, drop-caste, black-ops ‘signia-switcher, Jazz-bot – had just called Cleaver 'cohort' and tacked on more than a couple familial glyphs to the honorifics of his sub-vocals. So. That. Them. He kept his mouth shut and when Cleaver got into conversational range, stepped back from the both of them a single step to give them a second to chat it up and to get out of the Towerling's immediate vicinity.
He didn’t say anything. It occurred to him that perhaps he should have, instead of folding his arms and inspecting the ceiling like he hadn’t seen one before while Jazz begged for lasers and Cleaver gave him familiar, humoring looks that said ‘No-and-I-will-smack-you-with-my-blade-arm’ kind of things. He resisted the urge to look at Cat because she might look back, instead pulling one of his holo-games from his subspace to wait out their talking with feigned disinterest. Because it wasn’t like Cleaver talking to Jazz was pissing him off or anything. Not like it was irritating him. Not like he was having this illogical thought thread of hostility looping mean as Sunstreaker on a bad day through his head saying, What the frak she got ta say to him that’s so familiar? Huh?
Piped up as to not appear too quiet.
“Don’t need lasers, fam.” Several things dinged from his game. “Ya got me.”