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.
Ironhide had delegated two processor threads for dealing with any order given by Ratchet; he delegated a third thread to fielding the input provided by Jazz, with gratitude for the first two thirds and the simple expedient of junking the remainder because 'simmer down' was NOT the right answer, not when a medic was waving microtools around their sparkling and Ironhide had to clench himself tight in ways that diffused tension down his backstruts without alarming the bitlet in his hands.
Ratchet was moving with what amounted to a slow and soothing air from the medic, but Ironhide couldn't help the involuntary sound that his vocalizer cracked over when the first hinge of Bluestreak's shoulder plate came away in the medic's hand.
"Hush," Ratchet told him, and it was startling to hear the mech manage an actual smooth tone, kept low and steady so as not to alarm his patient. "It's just a plate replacement, Ironhide, honestly - how many plates have I taken off and replaced on you?? Relax - I'm disconnecting sensors, Blue won't feel a thing."
Bluestreak was completely oblivions to Ironhides tension, hir own oh so slowly melting way. The medic wasn't hurting hir and with each carefully watched movement the horrible itching that had been irritating hir faded away.
Quietly for now on pressed hir face into the palm of Ironhides hands and cooed. Not a HAPPY sound per-say but certainly not un-happy. Relief and contentment. This wasn't so bad why had Ironhide been so worried?
Jazz leaned into Ironhide's side, The Thing strobing soothingly between his hands from warm infrared through to ultraviolet and back again. Jazz tuned his vocalizer low and of a pitch to resonate through Ironhide's plates, turning the Guardian into an heavy-metal instrument with a surprisingly soft, comforting weight to it.
Yes, yes, Blue, that's it. Niiice and easy. Easy for you, easy for Ratchet, and Primus knows, easy for us. I swear I'll spend that twenty shanix on toys and rust sticks, bitlet, just keep bein' happy....
::See, 'Hide? This isn't so bad. Everything's cool, yeah?::
Jazz set Ironhide's plates to humming "The Lieutenant's Rusty Gun", one of Blue's new favorite songs. Chromia had taught it to hir, and Jazz was fairly sure that the rollicking song hadn't originally been about the Lieutenant's GUN....
<<fade to black and FIN>>
Last Edit: Sept 10, 2013 20:08:27 GMT -5 by Deleted