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.
Soledad blinked, surprised. She hadn't felt a bit tired until Smokescreen mentioned it, but her eyes did feel a little heavy now... she thought she could be relaxed enough to sleep now. Guess Smokescreen really is good at his job. Morale and all.
"I don't have to be up at any particular time," she said, "but I guess I could try sleeping again. If it really is that late - I don't have a cell, so it's hard for me to keep track of time." She grinned apologetically. "I guess I'll say goodnight, then." If Smokescreen was hinting at something, however gently, best to take that hint. She stood up and brushed off her pants.
"Oh, what's your email?" she asked. "I'll email you my info when I get up tomorrow, okay?"
Smokescreen felt a twinge of guilt when he saw her stand and dust herself off. It was the same twinge he often felt when he caught himself dipping work into his personal friendships. He tried to console himself with the thought that perhaps she did look a little more content now.
"I have two!" he said. Then he winced and held up his hands and added, "Oh man, okay, don't laugh. Okay, the first is smokebandit at gmail dot com. That's just my general all-around email and junk mail catcher. My private email I reserve for friends and business is, uh... stealthbastard at mit dot edu. Yeah. I don't fill that one out on too many forms."
He grinned at her. "Email me any time! I'll be sure to pass along your information to my friends in the city as soon as possible. They should have your documents ready for you in four to six business days. They do good work. I think you'll like these guys. They've done a lot of work for me in the past. Anything you need, they can probably arrange. Like that JATO rocket I've got stored in that derelict auto garage out by Tule Springs. Oh man. One of these days I'm gonna strap that thing to my roof and hit up an abandoned air strip north of the city and I probably shouldn't have mentioned that just now."
This time Soledad managed to stifle her shriek of glee, but not by much. "When you do, if I'm not there to see it myself, you have to record it to show me later. It is required," she informed Smokescreen, eyes dancing. "Even if you have to destroy all the rest of the evidence."
She headed to the door, her step a little unsteady from weariness, but her smile was content as she paused and turned back. "And I won't have any trouble remembering your email addresses," she grinned. "Good night."
Smokescreen grinned back and lifted his hand in a farewell wave.
"Good night, Soledad," he said. "I hope you sleep well."
And in his head he thought, you know, Smokescreen, you really should invite her with you to celebrate the grand ignition of the JATO. It would be fun to have a friend along, and if her engineering skills were blooming she could likely think of a clever way to rig the volatile rocket to his rooftop. A pair of deft hands and a blowtorch would make the job a lot easier. Heck, as a project to share it would be rather enjoyable as well.
There was also the fact that it would also probably up his survival chances by a significant percentage. Yeah. There was always that to consider.