Transformers Prime: Convergence is a plot and character-development driven roleplay forum based upon canon material of TFP and RiD, but incorporates characters, elements, and plotlines from various other continuities to craft a unique story. Our community is welcoming, laid back, and dedicated to making each roleplay experience a good one.
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Filch ruffled her feather-like wing plates and hissed when she heard the banging. The blue one was so annoying! When Breakdown offered to switch places, she immediately took him up on it to get some peace and quiet, her gold-and-cyan optics zooming in on Rotor. Quite the interesting build, this one. If she weren't battle-damaged, Filch would have admired a more shiny look, but the interesting build was enough for Filch.
She could hear the thud and seemed to have a heavy sigh of relief from all her vents. She took one last glance at Rotor before sticking her olfactory sensor into the air and stalking away from Rotor. Finally, there seemed to be relative silence from the scrawny mech. It was too amusing for her and she couldn't help but titter. That was, until something interrupted.
On the screen, there was the unmistakable face himself. She let herself stand arrow-straight, looking with a detached indifference to the screen; her little prisoner wasn't really going anywhere at the moment after all! Meanwhile, it seemed her fearless leader knew exactly what to ask for first. The Spark Extractor. Interesting. Maybe she would get to see it used on a fool like Bumblebee!
All the charges were laid, he’d scouted out the entire area, run sweeps, but no Autobots were hiding anywhere! Sev found joy in that fact, as he soundlessly returned to the hostages. He recalled he was supposed to guard the smaller one. The one who’d put up the least amount of a fight out of all the prisoners. However…something told the mech beyond the femme’s tiny interior was something worthwhile. He didn’t know why he had the hunch, but he supposed it was simply because of his instinct. What small bots lacked in size they usually made up for it with intelligence or skill.
The vehicon saw the others hadn’t changed much in their mood, then again, no spontaneous character development should be expected within five minutes from anyone. Still. Sev didn’t have much taste for taunting the prisoners. If he’d had it his way, they would have all been knocked out all ready, or have been hammered in the back of the head so they’d quit their squabbling. As he approached from the back, his body never yielding a rattle, he noticed his prisoner muttering something to Steeljaw. The vehicon did his best not to release a chuckle upon hearing the sound of the little femme’s voice, downright mocking his superior.
I was never much for animals either. He thought, as he kept any sign of his small amusement to himself. Bless his maker for giving him a helmet. Still, she’d spoken out against him, and that was frowned upon. Naturally, the wolf shrugged her comments off, just before Optimus Prime’s voice echoed through the station. Sev stiffened at the mech’s voice. Optimus Prime was speaking; they had the menaces attention. The thrill of hearing the voice of the Decepticon cuases greatest enemy was amazing. Sev found himself gladly despising the weary regality in the prime’s voice. Sev had his sniper rifle out, it’s soft hum audible from behind Stormgear as he stood as if awaiting orders to shoot. His crimson visor and silver armor offered as much conversation as his weapon did.
As far as they were concerned, there was only one thing that needed to be handed out if need be. You’d be wise to shut up. Sev thought, believing it to be indicated by his Nucleon Charge rifle. Oh no. He wouldn’t kill her if she put up a fuss. But the cold, sharp blade latched to the end of his rifle’s barrel had briskly grazed the small Autobot’s shoulder.
Sev kept his visor on the horizon, as if he weren’t looking at anything in particular, while his eyes remained fixed on his prisoner, and ready to dart to any gesture from Steeljaw.
Dulled blue optics focused on the impromptu "drum" in front of him. Stepper was beating on it in despair at this point, rather than to signal that he was there. The Autobots probably didn't know where "there" was. Or if they did, they had to think about it. And this wasn't the situation that he could just think his way out. That was, without his datapad.
And his datapad was still all the way back in Jasper, Nevada. Good going, Stepper told himself mentally. At least if he'd had the datapad he'd have been trying hard to get a signal out the moment he'd been captured. But no, he'd decided it was fine, he could go without it one day, right? A single day couldn't hurt.
Oh no. It could hurt a lot, leave you bound tight, beating on what appeared to be an ordinary trash can they didn't know had some tech equipment inside, and it could just make you become so anxious that all you could do was make the noise to give your processor some stimulation outside of the stress and the anxiety. But anxiety had worn him out, and when he rose from the latest impromptu "drum solo", a shadow had fallen over him.
No sooner had the shadow fallen over him than he felt brute-force impact. His processor was scattered, his audials ringing, his optics descending into static. He was struggling to sit up at this point, the drumming of his processor pounding harder than he had on his own "drum".
And it felt way better to just hang himself over, limp, quiet, not bothering to fight anymore. He was too tired to keep his optics open, didn't bother straining himself to hear, didn't bother to scream or drum or move. It didn't matter anymore, honestly. The Autobots would probably be there soon enough.
The faint sound of Optimus Prime's voice filled the air. He would have signaled but he was too tired, too weak, in too much pain. Instead, he would let that voice guide him. He would just rest unless Optimus said to do otherwise.
Why rock the boat? It normally just got you beaten upside the helm.
Bang bang bang went the drums of war. Know the enemy and know yourself. Here you are a prisoner, held captive for valuable resources and the enemy would rather better odds of getting the better trade than giving dead bodies. Infuriate them, disorient them, destroy their composure. Rotor squirmed her wrists again as if trying to ring out a rag of dirty tricks to work on them, in truth she was aiming to figure out how tight her binds were.
"For someone with hammer hands for what is I would assume their entire life. They are quite soft. I can only pray you actually let your inner Decepticon out than pransy about." An absolute sludge stain she was. "I still applaud the bird though. She was what managed to dealt me in. I would love to fight her another time."
A short huff came from her when those vents struggled another inhale. Then it became more relaxed, silent. She could only figure out so many Decepticons here, two of which she could pick on. Another taking aim at a friend she could not see nor gauge how to toy and mess with. That will be an infuriating moment for her. The drumming moments had ceased and... Well that was when she was most quiet. From the corner of her optics she noticed a slackened Stepper, which concerned her greatly. Brutal Decepticons that demanded them to sit pretty. How she would plan so many rockets their way when...
the sound of Optimus speaking across to them helped that cracked visor gaze upwards, bestowing more oil and vigor in this fiesty Autobot. "Sorry to disappoint you Optimus Sir! We will appreciate the efforts made by you and your team!" The way she spoke, how she was bound up, the many dents, the whole situation! She just treated it like a casual outting, something she had done many times before. She was tempting fate here.
It didnt take long for Steeljaw to turn around to face her. As far as her observations could tell her, the wolf mech had a very shot temper. She was sure that he would have torn her apart if she hadn't been a hostage. As Steeljaw attempted to talk her down, A small smirk formed across her lips. "I know exactly who I'm dealing with! I have to put up with you, a dog with horrible humor, and three decepticon lackeys that follow you because their forced too!" She chirped. Her voice sung with as if she was singing a tune. A nice touch to her insults. this should shake him up a bit. I just need yelling.. "I also find it sad that you doubt my flourishing skills. There so much better than your skill set!"
As soon as Steeljaw turned away, she forced out a laugh. "Yah, turn away! Your to afraid to admit it!" Stormgear declared this before Steeljaw talked to Optimus. Her superior would never know her reckless acts.
A few seconds later, Stormgear noticed a humming sound behind her. She'd made and attempt to turn around, but the second she twisted, a blade dug into her shoulder. her mouth twisted in surprise, before it sneered in anger. "Hey! what's your problem! point that thing somewhere else!" she yelped. No response. This guy wasn't much of a chatter box. "Can you hear me! I said point that elsewhere! I didn't do anything!" Despite the blade's placement, she still tried to turn around. The more she kept her upper body and mouth moving, the less anyone would notice her hands. Since her cuffs were nothing more than a wire, her digits had no problem reaching the knot and picking at it. She had small digits, and she excelled at anything involving hands. if nobody noticed her hands, she expected to be free soon. key word: expected...
"Alright Steeljaw. You have our attention for sure. What is it you want?"
Optimus's guarded words made Bulkhead roll his shoulders to stave off an uncomfortable tightening in his restless spark.
These situations were never easy to sit through. There was nothing he could do but stand around, frustrated. But, as usual, it was best to let the big guys do their thing. Optimus would do his level best, he knew it. If anyone could turn a dire situation into a success it was him.
Meanwhile, Bulkhead took to making sure he stayed quiet and listened for his cue. The moment he had a shot at knocking a few 'Cons around, he was ready to act.
He looked around at his fellow Autobots, taking in their tension and sensing their unease. Bulkhead had never been around when Steeljaw made himself a problem. He was unfamiliar as an opponent, but the word was he was as sneaky, clever, and vicious as they came. And of course his voice, which continued to ooze out of the console speaking words no one wanted to hear, only confirmed it.
"Blegh," he shuddered, thinking to himself. How did some 'Cons just sound completely evil?
There was hesitation on his end. Of course he wanted to just blast through the doors. Bust them in and rescue their fallen comrades. Why was Optimus drawing this out? The former vandal - the original Wrecker - within him called for him to simply follow his instincts. The trained, vigilant Elite Guardsmech within him urged for patience. The Prime had a plan, and when it was time they would know. He would likely be the first to know.
His patience was wearing thin, however. "Optimus, sir, the longer we wait, the more crucial the situation becomes. They could be injuring the prisoners.." his tone, while urgent, was calm. Collected.
To hear that it was an honor to meet Optimus like this? That set his nerves into a quiet grind, visible only through the shifting of his jaw. He had no right to call this an honor when he had hostages and demanded relics. None what so ever. He could see through the cameras that he had back up and the hostages. He could order his own crew to take up battle positions and ambush, yet through his quiet simmering he knew better than to risk their lives in the cross fire. Steeljaw had the upper hand.
"The Spark Extractor for one prisoner. Surely you know of how potent such a relic is, how dangerous it is to it's users allies." With one relic being mentioned and many others in the hands of the Autobots, surely he could weigh in the value of each one. He ran a mental check list of the relics they had.
Once through the list he temporary ceased the vocal communications to the outside with Steeljaw, "If they want a relic per hostage then I have two more relics in mind to trade. The Phase Shifter and Apex Armor." A bit of forewarning was given. Though he had an afterthought, "Assign these relics into a timed container. After a certain amount of time has passed they will have it. So they can not use them right away once passed over."
Now with that being said to his Autobot allies he turned back to the comm station and reactivated the verbal communications, "Steeljaw, as a precaution your relics, the Phase Shifter and Apex Armor will be assigned their own locking mechanisms." Upon looking at the security cameras and images, he could see the hostages antagonizing their captors. This was not good. He could only hope that the Decepticons would take the trade before changing their minds. Yet one of the Autobots caught his attention, a flyer of sorts. Who was she? The way she spoke to him. A bit of restructuring her views of superiority may be in order. Assigning her to Ultra Magnus may be a good start. Though now he needs to send two or three Autobots out there with the locked relics.
Sev kept the bayonet exactly where it was, never applying more pressure, but never receding it. Rather, he firmly kept the blade where it was. This little femme sure was noisy. The small ones did seem to have a bit of mouth sometimes. They had to make up for their lack of size someway. Sev kept quiet, wondering if he should respond to her. Slowly, he lowered his helm so that his crimson visor glowered at her quietly, as her seized her up. She was a tiny blue femme, her build promised a nimbleness that was likely paired with formidable agility. Sev narrowed his optics behind his visor.
'Can you hear me! I said point that elsewhere! I didn't do anything!'
"It's certain everyone heard you." He responded, his voice soft, but firm. He didn't say much else, as he kept his visor focused directly on her faceplate. He noticed how he tried to turn around to face him, so she could make eye contact. None of the other prisoners were doing this, and there was nothing innocent about this little one. Innocence like Moonwing's was absent, Stormgear knew what she was doing. Something was off about what she was doing. Whatever she was up to, anyone could calculate she was trying to get loose, or bolt. Sev released a small quiet huff of a an ex-vent as he watched her. He couldn't see her hands from this angle. Sev considered letting her try to pull off whatever she was doing, and then interrupting it at the last minute. He could make an example out of her. Show the other Autobots what happened when they defied Megatron's will.
I hate drama. But will do my duty. Sev thought. "Since you asked nicely, I will." he said in response to her wanting his gun pointed elsewhere. The vehicon placed his gun on his back. He would be able to handle any tricks of hers easier if he had his gun on his back.
It took every ounce of willpower to prevent Steeljaw from just launching an attack on the mouthy youngster, but he somehow managed to keep his cool. The hostages were necessary. They had a use, and there would be no use if they were injured or dead. Not exactly good for the trade-in value.
"Why yes, Optimus. I know exactly how 'potent' a weapon like that could be. It's all in the name. 'Spark Extractor'. I'm fairly certain they wouldn't have named it such if it didn't extract sparks from the body, now wouldn't they?" Optimus could try all he wanted to talk the wolf out of it, but it wasn't going to happen.
He waited for the Prime to consult with the rest of his team, amused by the entire situation.
And naturally, Optimus was just as smart as they said.
"Fine by me. The relics aren't even staying in my own hands. You see.. I these are all just a bargaining chip with someone bigger. So go ahead. Hand over the relics. I then hand over the hostages, and at the end of the day I still get what I want. Sounds like a reasonable trade, does it not?" Steeljaw pressed a button on the control console, opening up the door so that the Autobots could come in.
"However.. I'd advise against trying anything funny."
Breakdown listened in. Spark Extractor? That one sounded intimidating and horrifying. No wonder Megatron would want such a device so much! It would decimate the Autobots' numbers amazingly!
The other two seemed interesting as well. Heh, so they were willing to exchange those dangerous little doodads for the little prisoners? He leaned in toward Rotor with a smirk and cast a dark grin.
"You and what army, missie?" To punctuate it, he would carefully edge the dagger closer to her throat, his smirk staying ever-dangerous. "Want this, or do you wanna take a hammer like your little friend over there did? I'll gladly oblige either way."
To emphasize, he transformed his fist into a hammer once again.
Filch herself was quiet, observative. Yes, that was right. Turn over the "shinies" to them. Not that she was inclined to steal them. Unless Steeljaw ordered it of her, that was. Her gaze was cold and stern toward the screen.
She could afford to look away from the mech she was guarding. He wasn't even moving at this point, slumped close to the blade near his throat, dented from Breakdown's strike against him to shut him up. Her claws clenched the ground lightly, however, rooting her next to the mech in case the situation did, in fact, get dicey.
She fanned the steely "feathers" of her arms sternly. This was not a show for the prisoners. It was a way to show the Autobots that she was bigger and more intimidating than she seemed, and that she would not hesitate to fight.