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.
"Anything?" Shadow leaned back against Ironhide and considered. It was surprisingly difficult to ignore their lack of supplies, the limitations of being on Earth, and the part of her processor that warned against giving any answer she wasn't sure was right, and simply toss out ideas.
"Throw out practicality," she said after a few moments of failing to divine the answer he wanted to hear, "and I'd double his power output, shift half of what he's carrying in his chest back to distribute the mass more evenly, and mount a decent set of midrange blasters below his shoulders. Blades farther down his forelegs for anything that gets inside the blaster's range. Slag, if he's worried about being grabbed," she managed a grin, tapping the back of one hand against Ironhide's scratched arm, "there'd still be enough room in his back half to install a few blades or spines that'd make anyone think twice about touching him. Like an Earth porcupine, assuming he wants safety more than dignity."
Ironhide tipped his helm against hers, optics flickering sidelong as he looked up the reference to the local organic life. His engine rumbled a low chuff that might have been laughter. "Blades everywhere? Might be a fraggin' good idea. Make him hard as slag t' grab, and th' fragger's already next t' impossible t' hold." He wiggled the claw scored hand beneath her own for emphasis. "Like holdin' liquid mercury, everythin' keeps slidin'. Add blades t' that, doubt anybody'd be holdin' him for long."
He leaned forward again, tapping the image to twist it. "So that's somma th' best case scenario if we could do anythin' we wanted. Now, scale it back t' practicalities." His fingertip traced a glowing line from the symbionts forequarters to his hindquarters. "Say yeh shift half his mass back outta his chest - what's that do t' his balance an 'maneuverability? Frame builders probably had a reason when they were buildin' him, not that yeh or Ah'd know what it was, but yeh can always run simulations."
There was nothing in Ironhide's tone to indicate a reprimand, but it still felt like one, his words sliding rough over old expectations. "It'd frag everything up," she said tightly, but that wasn't an answer, and this wasn't a trick question. It wasn't even something new; conversations had often gone like this when they were working out her own weapon upgrades, Ironhide gently nudging her along the path to understanding for herself why something would or wouldn't work. The only difference was that he hadn't been teaching her then... and that was no difference, not really, instructor and student just words between them.
She made herself go back over the file of Jaws' impossible direction change, and said more steadily, "His balance wouldn't be hard to adjust, but he'd lose flexibility once he had solid components in the way. And half his agility is based on being able to easily swing his hindquarters around. Couldn't do that if he wasn't mostly empty space back there. So he'd have weapons, but at the expense of his best defense, which is being able to out-maneuver anyone who might come after him. And there's no way to pack enough weapons on a frame that size to make fighting a better idea than running."
Ironhide was nodding, motion and field alike transmitting agreement and approval. "Won't matter what we pack on him, it'll never be more'n a stopgap before he cuts an' runs. Can't do more on that size, an' he ain't even got Rattrap's advantages for external weaponry - can't stand upright, can't grip. An' just about anythin' we put on him's gonna force him t' consciously change what he does, an' in a lot of cases that's dangerous."
He reached in front of her, not to change the display but to turn his own claw scarred arm into the light. "So - first instinct. Wrap around it, kick like slag with his back claws an' frag up anythin' inside a seam he can reach with his front claws. An'," he rumbled on an amusedly self deprecating note, "he's hard as scrap t' get rid of once he clamps on, whole damned frame magnetizes t' yer plates. Can't shake him off. Could crush him, shoot him, but if he gets on someplace yeh can't reach easy he could do a Pit of damage if he had enough reach."
Ironhide tilted his head again, leaning his cheek against the top of Shadowrunner's helm. "Here's a crazy idea - give him some real blade power an' extend his reach." He tapped the display, quick movements inserting notes and an abbreviated, simplistic variation of change along the front leg struts. "Could split th' medial strut an' add in a secondary hinge t' th' transformation points he's already got. Give him th' ability - in a pinch - t' extend his reach half again th' length of his current arm. Tip that reach with energon blades twice as long as th' claws he's currently got, an he could shear out most'v'a mobility joint an' all of th' hydraulics in a mech mah size."
Shadow made a sound of understanding, enthusiasm rebounding as quickly as it had faded. "So we work with his instincts, give him a way to really get past the seams on larger mecha...enhance his hind claws, too? He's not going to be able to get his arm inside most of the seams on a mech my size, but give him energon blades on his back pedes and he'll be able to shred scout level and lighter armor."
She reached out, still securely tucked against Ironhide's frame, and rotated the image so Steeljaw's hind pedes were visible. "Install the blades and the secondary transformation systems here, just clear of the joint, and what little mass it'll add should be low enough not to have much effect on how he moves. Primus knows he has the space for it back here, and he can get used to the change through his usual wanderings along the walls."
"Think we might be onto somethin'," Ironhide agreed, the flushed warmth of approval and enthusiasm pressed against Shadow's back where their plates touched. He squeezed her briefly, the hug reflexive, then reached forward to shift the image once more, sketching in short suggestions of marks. "Add in that idea yeh had, install some spikes down his center back, an' along th' joint clusters in his shoulders an' hips, quick eject an' retract. Maybe a whole line of small hooked ones along his tail. Anybody tries grabbin' him'd have their hands shredded, an' once he's already in range it'd be easy enough for him t' bring th' claws in an' do some real damage."
He hummed thoughtfully, bringing up the power flow diagram again. "Claws won't be much of a power drain, can splice 'em off th' main lines t' his limbs. What Ah'm wonderin' is if we can install higher rated clamps for him, least in his pedes." Ironhide twisted the diagram, zooming in on the symbiont's forepedes. "See, that's his primary clamp there. Rated for deep space turbulence for his frame class, meanin' yeh ain't gonna pry him off anything he's stuck to. Feels slaggin' weird, too. Now, if we could upgrade those t', say, combat clamps for yer frame size, that'd be enough magnetics t' be another weapon on most frames. Crank it up and walk up a mech's sensor suite, it'll fritz out half of it t' numb along th' way."
"He already uses the clamps as a distraction technique," Shadow said, leaning comfortably into Ironhide's hold, her attention focused on the changes he was describing. "It wouldn't be hard to get him used to using them as an actual weapon." She grinned a little. "Could make Bulk his sparring partner; I'm pretty sure I can convince him he owes Jaws forever for the tail incident."
It would be a relief to have Steeljaw able to defend himself if everything went to slag; at the moment, he was a half step less vulnerable than the humans, and that only because he was faster and less likely to do something stupid. But the changes were still going to take extensive work on his frame, and Shadow had no doubt she was the one who was going to hear every complaint until the welds were healed and the changes fully integrated into his systems.
"If you go with something like this," Shadow said, tucking herself closer to Ironhide's frame and bracing to be told she was wrong, "then I'm thinking the spikes will be the easiest part; tricky to fit, but not a lot of changes to his frame. Same with upgrading his magclamps; once you've figured out the power flow, installation shouldn't be hard. And the claws should be easy to fit, easy to run power to, but take a lot more cut and weld work. Right?"
Ironhide rested his cheek against the top of Shadow's head, rumbling soft agreement. "Installin' physical spikes'll be easy. Writin' a routine system t' make 'em all individual triggers is harder, but he'd be better off for it. Magclamps may be easiest, if we can get around his power output." He grinned, nudging her. "Yeh gonna help meh t' get him t' sit still while we test this all every which way?"
He pulled her a little closer, optics narrowing at the display. "Th' claws... that's gonna be a Pit load of micro fabrication an' assembly, an' yeh know what Ah'm thinkin', bitlet?" He slanted her a sly look. "Ah'm thinkin' yer hands are a scrapload smaller'n mine."
Shadow had been prepared to assure Ironhide that yes, she would wrangle the scary, scary cat for him, when his final words crashed every processor thread from pure shock. She went motionless against him; only the thin threads of disbelief and an old, reflexive panic kept her field from being a complete blank as she struggled to find a response, vocalizer clicking with half-formed sounds.
"What?" The query glyphs were wavering and uncertain, underscored with modifiers for doubt/misunderstanding. She stared up at Ironhide, found no more malice hidden in his expression than in the field wrapped around her, and after a moment offlined her optics, tucking herself against his frame and letting excitement over what she thought he was saying override the worst of the fear. It eased the tightness from her lines, but did nothing to expand her vocabulary. "What?"
Ironhide chuckled, fingertips tapping a lightly ticklish pattern into her plating. "Oh, yeh heard meh. That's th' fun part of bein' a student - yeh get t' do all th' scrap Ah don't wanna." He lifted her hand, threading their servos against each other, palm plates pressed. "An' really - lookit this. Yeh're a lot smaller. Can hold those little things easier when yer workin' on scrap th' size of a human's harddrive."
He tucked her against him, rumbling notes of pride and confidence and humor into her plating as he reached up to tap a gentle fingertip against the side of her face. "An' yer optics are younger an' ain't sportin' as many dings as mine. So yeah - yeh get th' fun part. An' he's gonna need - what? Twenty claws? Yeh'll be an expert by then."
The laugh that rose up in response to Ironhide's teasing took Shadow by surprise, and was as much relief as amusement. She liked working with her hands, even liked the challenge of piecing together things that didn't want to be pieced together, when there was no one waiting to pounce on every slip and error. And for just a klik, she could actually picture working with as much laughter as swearing, without the tank-clenching dread Labyrinth had always inspired.
"What if I actually do think it's fun?" she asked, only half teasing, a little warning in the back of her processor reminding her that to want was a weakness, especially something like this, that could so easily be taken away. Except this was Ironhide, and if there was anyone she could trust with this, it was him. "What if I want to do it again?"
Ironhide shuttered his optics for a moment, still and quiet to just savor it, memory files flagged for easy recall. His optics, when he opened them, were warm and bright, his smile easy, and the kiss he pressed to Shadow's helm carried a wave of love and affection. "Then mah instincts were right," he told her, holding her close, "an' yer gonna be a slaggin' good weapon specialist by th' time we're done."
"Which," he added, drawing back enough to look at her, "don't mean yeh ain't gonna be cursin' me across one side an' down th' other an' tellin' meh t' go t' th' Pit, either. Or cursin' out th' symbiont an' his Primus fraggin' claws an' anythin' that's so small yeh gotta use a magnifier an' tweezers t' work on it. But if yeh still think it's fun after all of that? Then yeah. We're not just good, we're lots better'n that."
Shadow grinned at him, feeling oddly vindicated that her doubts, nebulous as they were, had been proven baseless. "I can swear at you both in eighteen different languages," she said, nudging against him. "And if that doesn't cover it, I'm sure Jazz can help me pick up the slack."
The relief was a tangible thing, draining tension out of her and relaxing her frame against Ironhide's, and it made her bolder than she would have otherwise been. "So, now that we have an idea of what we want to do," she said, reveling in that we just a little, "do we start working on how to make all the pieces fit?"
Ironhide hugged her impulsively, grinning. "Two stage design - how it all fits, an' how we're gonna power it. An' then, once we think we've got somethin' that'll work, we're gonna bring that damned cat in here and run so many tests and scans he's gonna wonder why he asked for this, and then it'll be back t' th' drawin' board t' redesign 'cus whatever we came up with first'll probably be shot t' th' Pit an back by practical testing."
He leaned his chin against the top of Shadow's helm, humming softly. "So let's start with th' basics. Spikes're easy, just have t' collapse th' length into itself. Yeh know what goes into makin' an energon blade, or just how t' use 'em?"
Shadow shook her head slightly, something in her chassis tightening back up, her relief and pleasure in the learning vanishing with her admission of ignorance. "Just how to use them." And that had been Viper's doing, not Labyrinth's, but she was already more than familiar with Ironhide's opinions on Labyrinth's training.
Opting not to get into that subject at all, she looked up, only a trace of false brightness in her grin covering her renewed unease. "It's better that way anyhow, right? You won't have to unteach any stupid slag I've got in my processor."