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.
As soon as the bridge opened up, League turned about with a hint of a smile on his face-plate. "Welcome to the team..." He grunted before quickly aiming a solid kick at the aft of the annoying flier. He made sure not to use too much force, after all Prime would be ticked off if his new warrior was bent in half. In any case League hoped to nail at least a few other bots with this mouthy-soccer ball.
With a yelp of surprise the Aerialbot abruptly found himself booted into the air and through the groundbridge. He flailed madly, and disappeared into the whirling green portal.
Inside the Autobot base, the bridge rippled. Space bent. An instant later Air Raid appeared within the centre of it, still airborne.
However, by then the quick-witted flier had already come up with a plan. Reflexes kicked in, and he neatly twisted in mid-air to hit the floor on his shoulders. In one casual motion he rolled and kipped up to his feet and strolled to a halt, like a pouncing cat that meant to miss.
To complete the manoeuvre he threw up his hand and ripped off a smart salute. Aww yeah.
"Style points," he hissed. "Good afternoon, sir! Aerialbot Air Raid, reporting for du-ty?"
He blinked and lowered his hand and with some confusion looked around the big, empty silo. Almost empty. He spotted Steeljaw perched upon the monitors rather belatedly, and after rearing back in surprise he offered the cat a wave.
Given that the last bots who had come blasting (falling, crashing) through the ground bridge at high speed had been being chased by a narrow margin by Megatron himself, Steeljaw thought he could perhaps be forgiven a small surging spark attack when a body tumbled through the portal. Given that he had been the one sitting on monitors in charge of the groundbridge during the whole Sideswipe-and-Sunstreaker-with-homicidal-Decepticon-Warlord-in-hot-pursuit bit, he felt it was perhaps perfectly natural that his first response, when a someone once again fell through the bridge not under their own power, was to immediately cut the Primus forsaken damned bridge for fear of whatever might be coming through NEXT.
When the tumbling body managed a creditable - for a bipedal frame - recovery and bounced back to its feet he realized the lanky flier must be Air Raid. Far from looking like he was running for his life, the mech looked more like he'd been pushed, or tripped, and there was a distinct lack of large hulking miner behind him.
Ooops. Not a crisis, then, and League was probably outside, some 50 miles due north in the desert, wondering where the ground bridge had gotten to. Scrap.
First things first, though. Steeljaw drew himself up, nodding cordially to the flier. "Mostly quiet," he agreed dryly. "You must be Air Raid. My name is Steeljaw-" ping went the comms, probably League wondering where the frag the bridge was. Steeljaw twitched an audial back and ignored it. "-and if you'll just step through that entrance over there to our med-bay our-" Primus, he was doing it again, 'our our OUR' as though there was an insignia anywhere on his frame, and the comm was pinging more insistently, "-CMO, Ratchet, can help get you oriented..." pingPingPING!
"Excuse me for a moment," Steeljaw finished smoothly, optics flickering to the side slightly as he opened his internal comms, voice smooth as polish and cheerfully innocent. "So sorry about that, League, there was a bit of concern when Air Raid came through, sending a bridge for you now." He suited action to words, reopening the portal before the miner could get a words in edgewise.
With his arms crossed and foot tapping, the submarine was not shocked in the least that the bridge was shut off, it seemed about par for the course for such a bad day. As soon as it flickered back on the mech got a rather flat lie from the feline, League could never understand how Steeljaws could be a 'spy' and be so horrible at lying.
With a hefty growl the mech opened up the comline "You know what? Frag you, frag these ruddy metal pigeons that keep joining the teem and frag you organic-modes who think your too good for a set of wheels or Primus forbid a sensible mode that can float!" taking in a sharp breath League managed to calm himself down a bit more "Set the bloody bridge for the Pacific Ocean, I'm taking a vacation until I can't even remember any of your names!" the giant was done with this, it had been far too long since he felt his hull encased in water and he was getting fed up with the shrinking living space at base. Of course show-offs like Air Raid, Jazz and every other bot under the sun didn't make it any easier, at times he entertained a fantasy of switching sides for the sole reason to beat their afts into the ground. He was far too dedicated an Autobot for such a thing, but it was a fantasy after all.
Steeljaw twitched an audial, then hastily reset the bridge as requested, setting it for a smooth entrance into the middle of the Pacific. "Bridge set," he replied seriously, "and I'll file that vacation request for you. Enjoy." Another nanoklik of hesitation, then he databurst the message he had been supposed to deliver. "Just an FYI for you whenever you get around to it. No rush."
<<OOC - the message was supposed to be from Jazz to League, asking if League would be amenable to putting his mining skillz to use for base security. Something for a future thread!>>
"Yeah, yeah. I'll get right on it when I return." With that League stepped into the Bridge and moments later found himself splashing down into the cool water. Almost instantly all his anger and rage melted away, it was replaced by the sensation of being home, something he couldn't even manage when inside his own room at the base. Quickly the mech transformed into his alt-mode and fired his turbines up for the first time in days. League almost seemed to have been reborn as he began to power off, past transgressions were not but water rushing passed his hull. It didn't take long for the submarine to settle into the ocean and belt out a few joyous sea-shanties as he finally found the solitude he so desperately desired.
Meanwhile, as Steeljaw occupied himself with operating the ground bridge, Air Raid took advantage of the cat's distraction to anxiously twist around and inspect his aft. That big mech had whomped him good. Nothing had better gotten bent outta place back there.
Whew. No sign of any dents. Just a scuff mark. Ugh. White paint showed everything.
Ground pounders! So testy. Never could take a joke.
Air Raid buffed it out as best be could with his wrist, then looked in the direction Steeljaw had indicated. Chat with Ratchet, get all checked out and bam, he was set. What a reassignment. When had he been told he was going to Earth? Huh. He couldn't remember. Just his luck though. What a mudball.
Feeling a little jauntier with the scuff mark scrubbed off, Air Raid set out for the med bay. Before he disappeared down the hall he lingered back a moment, eyeing Steeljaw curiously. What had that big bot's name been again? Something that began with the letter 'L'. And 'L' word. Air Raid groped for a name.
"So, uh, are all the Autobots here as grouchy as that Leak guy?" he said.
Leak. Steeljaw kept most of the smile out of his face plates only by dint of 'smiling' being a learned behavior that didn't really translate well on his frame type. His audials perked up, however, and the tip of his tail curled in an upwards curve as he jumped down to the floor.
Eeesh. The flyer really was very tall from the vantage point around his thrusters. Steeljaw skirted a careful and rather large arc around him, heading for the medbay. "I think you'll find League is the poster mech for grouchy around here," he told the other, "and surely there's a one per base limit, yes? Sorry about the greeting," he added. "Luck of the draw of who's on monitor duty, I'm afraid, and most of the officers are off base right now."
He folded his hands behind his head and gazed about himself with interest as he strolled behind the cat, studying the walls. Weird place. Not at all like the Cybertronian, or even the off-world sites he was used to. Everything here looked old and shabby and scaled down, despite the immensity of the silo itself. There was an odd scent in the air as well, like... rust? Eeh.
At least the flying was decent.
Little bits of red light licked around his heels as he walked, thrusters still powered. Air Raid hastily cycled them off to conserve energy. Boy, he'd burned a ton of it during the long flight from Europe. Had a wicked headwind the entire time too that neither climbing nor descending had rid him of. Feckin' west to east predominant winds. He was tired, but still too keyed up from his arrival for his neocortex to wind down yet. It chattered at him brightly, putting a spring into his step and a light in his optic as he peered down the hall.
"Eh, no worries," he said, his attention wandering back to the conversation at hand. He grinned and waved a hand before returning it to the back of his head. "No harm, no foul. So, what's the situ around here anyway? You guys in need of fliers or something? That was sorta what they told me when they shipped me out here. Sounds like you got a bunch of other 'bots around here though."
"A bunch of 'bots, yes," Steeljaw replied, "and some of the local natives, but fliers... well, there's one. She's very small, compared to you. Light weight scout." He cast an appraising optic over his shoulder at the new mech. "We had one about your size for a bit a month ago before he took off again - Skydive was his designation."
Medbay was, by necessity, almost directly off of the control room - closest to the ground bridge and anyone incoming. Steeljaw trotted the last few steps, crouched, and leapt up to the nearest countertop beside the door. "Air Raid, welcome to medbay, the sovereign domain of our CMO, Ratchet," he announced. "Ratchet, I bring yet another new frame for you to shake your head over." His tone was bright and teasing and he shot Air Raid a reassuring look, tilting his head to indicate the flier should carry on.
Air Raid nearly tripped over his own feet. He caught himself before he could stumble, but his optics were round as he trailed along behind Steeljaw. His mind worked furiously. Skydive had been here! On Earth! And he had missed him! He had missed the chance to reunite with his brainy wingmate. How long had it been since he had seen any of his brothers in arms... since the Exodus, at least. Even during Cybertron's last hours he had not seen many of his fellow Aerialbots; by then they had long become separated by the desperate fighting. By the flight from the planet.
And after that, well... Air Raid had been gone. Elsewhere. He had not even said goodbye. Not to Skydive or Silverbolt... or even to that big-mouthed jackass, Slingshot. Something akin to guilt twisted at his spark.
Then, all at once he realised that Steeljaw was speaking to him in a humorous manner. Air Raid's mind wandered back from its orbit of thought and he looked around himself, surprised to find that his feet had carried him all the way into the Medbay. The cat seemed to be waiting for him to say something, so the Aerialbot jumped smartly upright and saluted, wondering who the hell he was actually saluting. Oh! Yeah. Ratchet. Yeah, you definitely saluted the CMO. If you wanted to walk out of the medbay with your head screwed on the right direction the next time you got scrapped in a fight, that is.
"Yeah, uh, new frame!" he said. "Aerialbot Air Raid, sir, here to kick the tires and light some fires. Got sent down to give you guys an extra pair of wings in the air."
Ratchet's optics narrowed, his glare divided between the flier in front of him and the quadrupede curled up on his work counter before finally focusing more fully on Air Raid. Venting, he waved away the salute with a broad wave of his hand that might, remotely, in some distant corner of the universe, served as a responding gesture. "Well," he noted sourly, "you don't look as though League used you for target practice. Should I be expecting him in worse shape?"
"He's taking a leave of absence," Steeljaw interjected smoothly. "I've taken over the monitor shift. No damage - at least," he added, cocking his head at Air Raid, "I assume not? Unless you sucker punched him when no one was looking?"
Air Raid struck a jaunty pose and gave the question a breezy wave of his hand.
"My self-control is perfection," he said as he tapped his fist against his chest, his optics bright in jest. "I didn't think it was right to pick on old League this early into what I'm sure will be a long and abiding friendship. Not like he could hit me back. It just wouldn't be a fair fight."
Probably shouldn't mention that the big submarine-bot had been the one to boot him through the ground bridge, he thought. Boy, not one of his wingmates would ever let him forget it if they heard a grounder - a sea-based grounder at that - had caught him by surprise. A seabot, get the best of a good flier? Just didn't happen. What a crazy thought. Never speak of it again.
With his fists on his hips he looked around the medbay in appreciation. Something glinted on a nearby station and without thinking he wandered towards it, instantly attracted by that quick flicker of light. "So, uh, is there a security check or anything I gotta go through? Some sorta orientation? Educational film on planet Earth to sit through? Just that I'm kinda low on fuel at the moment. Flew all the way across the wossit, that big ocean to the east to get here. Atlantic! That's the one."
"Ah!" The sound was sharp and commanding without any fully formed word to it. Ratchet, despite his mass, could move quickly when he wanted to, and an utter disregard for personal space was something that seemed almost hardwired into the medical profession. One blunt fingered hand came down on Air Raid's wrist before the flyer had moved more than a few steps, dragging the taller mech to a halt. "And where do you think you're going?"
The question was rhetorical - the answer, if Ratchet had his way, was not in the direction the Aerialbot had been headed but back towards the medberth, and it had been more than a long while since the last time anyone who was neither Prime or a ranking officer had not done as the medic commanded within the boundaries of his own medbay.
His other arm came up, a scan sweeping across the flier's frame with utter disregard for the niceties of a more leisurely exam, and his brows drew down at the results. Venting sharply, he pushed the other back towards the berth. "Oh, for Primus' sake - sit! Sit, sit!"
Growling, a low rumble of half uttered irritation, Ratchet let go without waiting to see if Air Raid complied and turned away towards the supply lockers - makeshift and piecemeal - that lined the medbay. Steeljaw, with a half hiccuped sound of surprise, scrambled out of his way and up the wall to perch atop the cabinet above the worktable as Ratchet flung it open. "Flew all the way here - from what? Europe? Did they include a processor in those specs of yours, or did they sacrifice it all for speed? Aerials, never have the sense of glitchmice..."
Despite the disparaging growls there was a full cube of energon in Ratchet's hand when he turned back around, one which he shoved at Air Raid. "Here! Drink it slow. I'm not responsible for micro-cracks in your tanks if you run them dry and hot and then throw fuel back into them too fast." He glared, mouth set in a hard line. "Europe... but you knew enough to come here. What in the Pit were you thinking?"
Air Raid meekly stood still when he was scanned, shoulders thrown back and wings upright. He then sat where he was told. To his credit, he sat still for about three more seconds after that.
By the time Ratchet had turned away from the locker he was already fidgeting on the berth, his head cocked as he looked about himself with interest and his fingers rattling a tempo against his knees. His plating twitched as it cycled air through his frame, ruffling and flattening smooth again. His optics brightened when he caught sight of the energon cube, and with a sound like 'aw yeah' he eagerly reached out to accept it. He had thrown back his head and downed the entire thing before the medic had finished warning him not to do exactly that, and with his hand clapped to his mouth he choked and sputtered through the rest of the chastisement.
"I didn't mean to land in Europe," he coughed, one optic squeezed shut. He tried his most charming grin. "Seriously! My escape pod just sorta uh, took me there on autopilot. So I was like, crap! What do I do now! I'd already been scanned for a flying mode for this planet, so I said to myself, welp, I might as well saddle up and get my ass in the air and head towards this North America place I was briefed about."
There was a laser scalpel sitting neatly on a tray next to his berth. Air Raid picked it up and shone it around the room like a laser pointer, taking care at least to keep the arc deactivated. "It didn't take me that long to get here, even though I hit a storm over the Atlantic that kind of threw me off course for a while. Ow. Hey, doc, my tank kinda hurts a bit here. What is up with that?"