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.
Vivisection. The rush of horror that overcame Maximus swiftly turned into uncharacteristic malice when he realised that the victim had been a Decepticon. His expression darkened. A hostage, helpless, dismantled and dismembered by a hostile force. Pity the humans hadn't killed him in the attempt.
But still, a good start.
Maximus pushed back that thought before it could leak through his field. Even Optimus seemed grim discussing the matter.
"And people wonder why the Tyrest Accord is so strictly enforced," he said, a touch dryly. A moment later his manner was grave again as he methodically rifled through the dossier that Optimus had sent him. He frowned, distracted by what it revealed. "Hm. Just skimming this MECH file now. Don't like the sound of this bunch. Don't like the thought they could have an agent in Agent Fowler's department. I know we can't enforce security within a governmental department of an alien species, and I don't like that either, but I'm glad that nothing more than a history lesson has been given to these human allies. I'm sure there's a way to just as politely rebuff any further inquiries into anything beyond that. Or, hm."
He smiled without humour. "Feed them deliberate misinformation, then wait and see what filters down to this MECH group. This all raises a question, though. If encountered in the field, what level of force as we cleared to use against them in our defence?"
“Again,” said Optimus steadily, “it is only a suspicion on Agent Fowler’s part that the leak may be internal. Point of fact, Agent Fowler’s electing to disclose his suspicions is… likely not the recommendation of his superiors. In the spirit of full disclosure, he alerted me to the possibility.”
He gave Max a meaningful look, one that said he’d just trusted Max with something and that questioning the man’s methods of dealing with human-level loyalties were likely best left to the humans. Mostly, Optimus understood what William Fowler had likely gone through, that creeping moment when the trustworthiness of those you commanded or were commanded by suddenly came into question. During the course of the Great War, Optimus had had more than a few mechanoids under his command switch signias, some of whom he’d counted as allies. That knot of dread and disgust – realizing that you’d misplaced your trust – Optimus was familiar.
“As for force, I’ve sanctioned lethal force against MECH operatives who present an immediate threat to any Autobot. We are not actively seeking this opposition out. Any Autobot attacked by this organization is permitted to use whatever force necessary to save themselves… that said, excessive force beyond that needed to defend one’s self is not permitted. If first-contact goes public, the very last thing we need is footage of Autobots killing humans. I do not assume that the greater populace will wait to hear both sides of that story.”
For his part Maximus had little desire to employ lethal force against a species he knew so little about- or one that was at both a physical and technological disadvantage when facing a Cybertronian opponent, for that matter. He was not fond of that level of violence as a rule, and saw little praticality in directing it at anything other than the Decepticons.
That said, he had no intention of winding up a subject for dissection either. Not now. Not ever.
"I doubt it as well," he said absently, thinking of the outraged protests that had erupted back home when the first casualties began mounting on both sides of the war. He had been a civilian himself then. He fell silent a moment, digesting what he had just been told. Then, as a thought struck him, he glanced at Optimus and added, "You mentioned the necessity of arranging an Earthen alternate mode. How soon could this be arranged...?"
“Tonight if you wish. I have already contacted Agent Fowler. If you were a different class-size, it would be possible to take an alternate mode from the local high-way, but in your case I believe that such an alternate mode might be impossible. Standard transports on this planet tend to suited for racer and mid to small class alt-moders. My current alt mode, while common enough to allow me unsuspicious travel, is only just big enough to accommodate my transformation sequence and requires that I fully utilize my subspace capability.”
He glanced Max, looking up at him that distance of about half a head that the other mech was taller than him.
“Unfortunately, your class size might restrict you to human military vehicles – heavy armor trucks, tanks and the like – meaning that ease of travel around this planet may not be an option for you. Fowler is clearing a military warehouse where a variety of his department’s equipment and vehicles are stored. He will call in when the warehouse is clear. We can groundbridge to that location and you can determine which of the available transports suits your frame.”
Maximus' surprise was swiftly replaced with grim satisfaction. A new Earthen alternate mode by tonight. That was a fast turnaround. Good. He understood the necessity of patience in situations like this one, in which one operated far from normal procedures, but nonetheless found himself harried by a sense of restless annoyance at delays. It was irrational, and he knew it. Not like him.
A military alternate mode. He could not imagine transforming into anything else these days. He had always been designed as a battle class, even if he had not started out that way. Cybertronian tanks and mobile artillery - he'd been both at different points throughout the war. A ripple of uneasy suspicion passed through him at the thought of restricted movement around this planet. If the humans were not accustomed to seeing military vehicles among their civilian population, his movements could wind up becoming very limited indeed.
Wasn't sure he liked that thought.
Needed a new alternate mode, though. And the sooner, the better.
Maximus shook himself out and nodded. "Wouldn't mind making the trip, if you and Agent Fowler can spare the time," he said, his expression set. After a brief hesitation he added, slowly, "I'll... admit, I would like to get back into active service as soon as possible. It's been a long time. Too long."
The answer was short, but his tone suggested that the statement was not exclusive to the acquisition of alternate modes, but rather, an open-ended statement applicable to anytime and about anything. He regarded Fort Max plainly, expression perfectly mild, because there was nothing remarkable about that statement in his mind because Max was a comrade and one he trusted implicitly. More to the point, he understood in a limited fashion that whatever happened to Max would require time. What precisely his friend would need from him remained to be seen: distraction, busy-work, basic conversation about everything other than what happened, a long conversation about exactly what happened, or maybe that it simply never came up again and would never be spoken of so Max could quietly deal with it and move along.
All carried the war how they needed to. Optimus could not ‘fix’ anything or anyone; war had taught him that time and again. You could, however, care about whatever and whomever you chose and sometimes that was enough.
“When Fowler gives me the go ahead, you will be first to know.”
Something about Optimus' calm reply made Maximus stare back at him a moment, unable to look away. He saw only steady patience in that gaze, a quiet and unspoken understanding. A sense of guilt rose up, and for an instant he was struck with the desire to explain himself, to tell his old friend exactly why he wanted that alternate mode as soon as possible, what mad glint of an idea had taken root in his thoughts and provided him with the distraction he needed from everything else-
Just as quickly he repressed it. Maximus kept his expression neutral. No, this was not something he could discuss with Prime. Or anyone else, for that matter. This was something he would need to do alone.
And he had not lied, not exactly. It had been a long time since he had seen service. There were Decepticons on the planet, and they would need to be fought. The 'why' was not in question - merely the 'how'.
"Thank you," he said, and meant it. Smiled faintly, let a little of the formality seep from his manner. "I appreciate it. And everything else you've done. I know you're busy, have a lot already to deal with. A posting like this can't be anything but a lot of work and hardship. Last thing I want to do is add to it. So, thank you."
The Prime kept his gaze forward now as they proceeded down the hall, into the greater part of the complex. He didn’t doubt that what trouble Maximus remained and he didn’t doubt that it would continue to trouble him, but that did not make him so exceptional. H was a soldier after all. Fort Max had been through some of the worst the war had to offer. He’d seen – as every soldier of every conflict has seen – evil. Not an enemy, but the face of violence as it manifested in Autobot and Decepticon both and seen the unspeakable rise and perpetuation of the worst of it at Simanzi and beyond. What Fortress Maximus did now to deal with it… that ultimately laid with him.
“I have every faith in you.”
((OOC: could end here or get one more max reaction shot. ))
(( Oh man, there is actually no way I can top that last line from Optimus, dawwww. Maximus shall totally test that faith XD. A wrap is all good! And danke muchly <3 ))