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.
Shadow accepted the data line with a theatrical show of reluctance. It took less than a minute for the movie's credits to demonstrate it was not taking itself particularly seriously, though she kept her amusement out of her field; no sense in letting Steeljaw know he'd won this round quite so quickly.
"I think," she deadpanned, "we need to take a road trip. See some moose." A beat, as the credits switched. "Or we could go see llamas. I hear South America is nice this time of year."
That last comment got one hind pede shifted so Steeljaw could threateningly hook aclaw into a thigh seam, though he didn't actually stop polishing. Still, Shadow worked her cloth across his hindquarters, and it was no coincidence that she had that pede in her hands when she interrupted the swallow scene to say, "So, the humor in this movie is based on long winded debates. No wonder you like it."
Steeljaw huffed through his vents, managing to actually curl his claws around the tip of Shadow's servo in mute acknowledgement of a point scored on multiple levels. "Yes, yes, laugh it up - isn't it enough that it combines literate humor with truly appalling special effects? I mean, really, if you think the horses - or lack thereof - are amusing, wait until we get to the rabbit."
He wiped another swathe clean, admired the shimmer of his own gold finish in the black gloss of hers for a moment, and then reached up to tug her arm down where he could reach it and begin to give it the same treatment. "In which you'll still have to answer my undying curiosity - which does, according to human legend, cause the demise of feline quadruped frames - as to whether our esteemed weapon specialist has somber important ceremonies to go with the upkeep of his most prized cannons." He slanted a glance up at her, amusement buzzing through his field even as he put on his very best innocent look. "It'd be tragic for me to die of a curiosity virus, after all."
"Oh, that possibility is getting less tragic by the nanoklik," Shadow growled, barely restraining laughter. She ran a final polishing swipe down his back with the cloth in her free hand, then stretched back on the berth, giving him free rein to climb over her and polish at will.
She was silent through the deathcart scene, though she did innocently highlight and replay - three times - the bit with the cat being beaten against the wall. Then, with an exaggerated air of reluctance, she said, "Fiiiiine, since I don't want to have to throw you in the cart...sometimes there are candles. And the energon of his foes."
Steeljaw couldn't help it - the idea of Ironhide - big, gruff, hulking wall of red that he was - sitting on the floor surrounded by tiny human candles (and the impossibility of the massive frontliner managing to light the things just added to the hilarity) and painted in barbaric splashes of energon while polishing his prized massive cannons, was more than he could process without dissolving into snickering giggles and vent fluttering choked laughter. Curled up on Shadowrunner's chassis, he buried his face into her freshly polished plating and snickered until his own plates had come undone and he was sprawled out across her from knee to shoulder, the occasional bouts of laughing still slipping free with only occasional synchronous timing with the punchlines of the movie.
Reseting his systems, Steeljaw edged over to begin polishing her other side. "Candles... Alright, you can tell me the movie sucks and you hate it, now. That was worth abuse about my movie choices."
Last Edit: Jan 24, 2013 14:29:58 GMT -5 by Deleted
Shadow pinged the sound file to Steeljaw with a laugh of her own, allowing herself a bit of smug pleasure as he chortled himself into a strutless puddle of golden warmth across her chassis.
"The movie sucks and I hate it," she deadpanned; the movie actually was funny, but admitting it would take half of the fun out of this game. Instead, she stretched comfortably under Steeljaw's determined polishing and reached up to rub the base of audial arrays that, for once, didn't need the attention. "And you totally owe me the Carnosaur trilogy now."
"You," Steeljaw told her in a huff, studiously applying polish to her plates as far as he could reach without actually moving, "and your horrible B rated fetish. FINE, fine, yes, you win, congratulations."
It left her mostly polished, which he surveyed with a pleased eye - glossy black all over, he could see his own gold in her plating, except... Scrap. Except for the part of her chestplates he was sitting on. Groaning, Steeljaw leaned his head into her hands for a little more, then finally slid off of Shadow's chassis to sit beside her, retrieving the last bit of polish to rub it in. "I need to eat things better left for Rattrap if I'm going to keep up with polishing you," he noted. "And you do realize your entire backside is now a different shade from your front, right?" He leaned down to push at her side with the flat of his head. "Over, with you. Go on."
"I let you mock my horrible B movies," Shadow said, rolling obediently over. "I even mock them with you, except for the classics you just aren't capable of properly appreciating. You don't get to complain."
She offlined her optics, relaxing further as Jaws settled back into the rhythm of polishing. "You also don't have to polish me every time I hold still for five minutes. I keep you around for the company, not the benefits to my finish." Nonetheless, she twisted just a little to bring his attention to a spot where she could practically feel the scratches. "And today you might send me into recharge if you aren't careful."
"My nefarious plan is working, then," Steeljaw replied smugly. Shadow's backside presented a problem in the sheer scratched and scuffed expanse of it, compared to the tiny amount of organic polish left. He checked the level of his own tanks, considering, and re-prioritized the subroutine that created the molecular composite of his internal polish.
There was a nasty set of scratches along her side. Queuing up the more aggressive of his sanders, he leaned in to lick the patch smooth again. "I beg to differ on what you call a 'classic'," he added between swipes. "There are plenty of things that are old and have no redeeming value."
"You mean like Ratchet?" Shadow asked before she could think better of it; the amusement lingered in her field even after she'd thought better of it, because this was Jaws and at worst he might roll his optics and insist Ratchet was an excellent medic.
"And I don't see how you can argue that Attack of the Giant Leeches is not a classic.." She would have twisted around to look at him, but that risked making him stop. "Even if it's only a classic in the attack of the giant fill in the blank genre."
Steeljaw allowed the comment about Ratchet to go with nothing but a snort, but the rest of Shadow's comment made him roll his optics ceiling ward.
"OH," he drawled inbetween polishing licks, glyphs pulsing amusement and sarcasm. "OH, well, yes, by all means, if we're classifying that as a genre all of its own then yes, of course Attack of the Giant Leeches is a classic. Though really," he added, leaning over to start on the next patch of her back, "you can't possibly be rating it as a higher classic than Attack of the Giant Killer Tomatoes. Unless we're classifying mainstream versus indie?"
Shadow pulsed exaggerated tolerance/patience at the symbiont. "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes was a parody. You can't compare it to Attack of the Giant Leeches." She grinned. "Now, if you want to see bad, we can watch Night of the Lepus some time. I know you like to mock special effects, but they didn't even try with that one."
Steeljaw had dropped into a familiar, relaxing rhythm of polishing around their conversation, and Shadow shuttered her optics, letting his presence lull her. "And at least I never ask you to watch killer insect movies with me," she teased. "Or documentaries about the rainforest. Because I am a very good friend."
"You are an excellent friend," Steeljaw agreed, stepping carefully over her to get at Shadow's other side. "You are the very best definition of an excellent friend who will never make me watch in depth documentaries about the organic life to be found in the rainforest, none of which I ever want to see again."
The thing was, though... well, the thing was that it was true. Steeljaw paused in mid polish swipe to turn that thought over, then had to give himself a small shake as he continued. Well, yes, of course it was true. Shadowrunner was a good friend, in as much as he had any on the base. But she was also a friend, at a level that went beyond just polish and a mutual fondness for ridiculous movies, someone he felt he could actually talk to and not edit every word out of his vocalizer, someone whose opinion and well being he actually cared about more than he usually let on.
[She's nice,] Uplink observed with a shade of approval, [and you like her.]
::Not like THAT, you glitch:: Steeljaw thought back reflexively.
[Didn't say a word,] Uplink demured. [Just nice to see you getting along, taking an interest.] There was no 'under his breath' when his voice was inside Steeljaw's processor, only a quick knot of glyphs tucked into the back of the symbiont's awareness. ['Bout fragging time, you ask me.]
::I didn't!:: Steeljaw shot back. He finished the plate he was working on only when it was a meticulous glossy black, smooth and shiny, and carefully stretched himself out next to Shadow on the berth.
"Night of the Lepus might be fun," he suggested, laying his chin against her shoulder. "Is it really terrible? Are the bunnies terrifyingly bad? Worse than the killer rabbit in the holy hand grenade scene?"
"Oh Jaws. Jaws." Shadow laughed with the delight of someone who was about to share one of the worst movies ever with an unsuspecting victim. Gleefully, she sent him a clip of giant evil killer bunnies hippity-hopping their way down a miniature street. "The bunnies are so bad. Though you have to be impressed by their ability to smear that much red paint on their victims without breaking the skin."
Steeljaw's sprawl against her side, comfortable and familiar, was relaxing in its own right, and while Shadow had no objections to whatever glitch led to his compulsive need to polish her, she could privately admit this was her favorite part of their movie 'war'. "We can make our next movie night a double feature. Killer bunnies and Killer Shrews. Unless you're ready to move on to the 'versus' movies. Boa vs Python. Komodo vs Cobra. Dinocroc vs Supergator. Movies with great artistic merit."
She grinned, teasing affection in her field, and added in a mock-serious tone, "Sadly, they never made Killer Bunnies vs Killer Shrews. Someone should really fix that."
Last Edit: Feb 21, 2013 19:13:15 GMT -5 by Deleted
Steeljaw had to bury his faceplates into the berth cushion as he laughed at the truly ridiculous bunnies - cute, as organics measured things, furry, completely un-evil looking and utterly normal bunnies - being portrayed as vicious giant killers. "I'm impressed they didn't use badly sewn mock bunnies, or bunny shadows on the walls," he managed, vents stuttering with laughter. "THAT would have been classic. Bunny shadows, and a lot of screaming and... yes, that is a LOT of red paint."
Still snickering, he sprawled against the femme's frame, optics a narrow glint of deeply amused blue over the edge of her chassis. "We could do that, you know," he suggested dryly. "You have no idea how many bunnies and shrews I've evicted from this base. And I'm sure Miko would love to star in an amateur horror movie."
"There would be fake blood and over-acting all over everything." Shadow rolled over, carefully, scooping Steeljaw up and settling him on top of her as she did so. "And a script is optional, so long as we include plenty of bunny/shrew battles, though Miko would probably be happy to write one."
It probably said something about her need for recharge that this sounded like the best idea ever.
"We can release it on YouTube. Miko will get internet famous. And Fowler's head might actually explode if he ever hears about it."