It's only a flesh wound! [Closed]

[derpjack_ftw]

WHO: G1 Wheeljack, BV Bumblebee, probably BV Ratchet later
WHAT: Getting the new guy patched up.
WHERE: Zone Five - Wheeljack's workshop, possibly moving to St Fallen later
WHEN: This afternoon, in tandem with this
WARNINGS/NOTES: No warnings except for some crossed wires, L-LOL  There was a question of if we'd wanted to action spam or do a narrative

Comments

[astoldinsong]

Bumblebee was completely fragged - rather more literally than as the term was usually used. After gigs and gigs of inane questions when he was already a good 20 hours out from his most recent recharge, he wasn't quite exaggerating when he said half his RAM was clogged up. The ID bolt was almost an afterthought on his list of affronts Axiom Nexus had already offered.

Recharge couldn't come soon enough. But first things first: repair assessments, if not the repairs themselves, or Ratchet would have his head. Heck, he was apparently here to take it.

Axiom Nexus makes him uneasy. The Transtechs are an unsettling mix of organic and mechanic; before he was handed his ream of paperwork he was informed of his 'rescue' from his timestream slip, and he'd be going home ... someday.

Right. And I'm a Prime. If he slipped and wasn't dragged - and that's unlikely, given that Ratchet, Ironhide, and Optimus are all here - something is drawing trans-dimensional beings to this city, this time.

He rolls up in front of a building that informs him he should go around to the back, so he K-turns ... and circles the block. It never hurts to be careful, he's learned. When Bumblebee has satisfied himself that he's not driving into an ambush, he drives around the corner to see an open door.

Inside a mech about his own size is tinkering with something or other. He recognizes the faceplates from the video feed. His build is much more blocky and stocky than Bumblebee is used to; how does he transform? Does he fold bits into subspace? How much oiling does it take to keep those hard lines from rubbing and wearing joints down?

Shifting to protoform takes about 8.8 seconds. He walks to the door and knocks despite its open state; at the same time he pings Wheeljack's HUD with an uplink request.

He makes no secret of the state of his vocal processors, but if he hadn't mentioned it before, this would be when the question comes up.

Oy, sorry! Yesterday was longer and fuller than I expected, and today got away from me too 9,9

[derpjack_ftw]

((ooc: Also...l-lol *recycles* X3;;;))

Wheeljack hears the engine's roar echo off the walls of the alley, and he's just turning to greet the newcomer when the Tyran transforms and appears in the doorway. ...whoa, okay, that's kinda weird - a Bumblebee he can look at optic-to-optic. Not that he has any problem with this. It's kind of refreshing. The ping gets a bit of a flinch from the engineer, but then he realizes what it is and why - the other mech's already alluded his vocalizer not working - and opens the link readily enough as he steps forward, offering a hand.

"Hey. Find your way here okay?"

ME TOO. Real life. Returning home. Placating B/F. The works XD;

[astoldinsong]

Bumblebee notices the flinch. Is there a better way to do this, he wonders? He can't really communicate without the direct messaging, and he doesn't trust the comms yet by any means. Maybe he should discuss it later with Ratchet.

Yes, he writes, smiling and taking Wheeljack's hand with a clang of metal on metal. It's the first time he's met a mech with a face less expressive than his own; most mechs where he comes from have an arrangement of plating that allows for expressiveness. His own model lacks many of those lower jaw components. The Cybertronians like Cliffjumper and Jetfire have even more expressive, almost humanlike, faces. But Wheeljack lacks anything but optics.

Thanks for the directions. I'm getting the impression I'm a bit paranoid! Does nobody mind others knowing where they are?

XDDD It's an epidemic, man...

[derpjack_ftw]

Optics and vocal flanges . . . and combined with stance and gesture, he's actually surprisingly adept at communicating emotions. Much like Bumblebee, likely.

He gestures for the mech to come in the rest of the way. "No problem, pal! An' . . . well, that's . . . kinda a good question." Considering the problematic Shockwave still at large, not to mention his own issues under a month ago. "Paranoid's not a bad thing, especially comin' outta a long-time war . . . an' knowin' the enemy's in the city too. Problem is . . . there's only two ways'a tryin' ta make it in this city that I can see - leadin' what most would call a 'normal' life, an' stayin' hidden. Unless ya turn ta theft ta support yourself, or have someone else who can help support you, stayin' hidden really isn't somethin' that can be done too easily for very long. Not that it can't be done, just not easily at all. But a 'normal life' isn't something ya can really do an' stay hidden either." He pulled a deep cycle of air through his vents. "I'm not gonna lie an' tell ya there isn't still danger. Frag, I myself just spent a deca-cycle bein' held by my own Stream's Megatron for a project he wanted me ta work on. But . . . honestly, that . . . that's pretty rare. Really much of any interaction between us an' the 'Cons isn't too common, except maybe for trollin' on the network." He shrugs, optics darkening a hair. "I'm more leery of the TransTechs than the Decepticons, ta be honest with ya. Especially Shockwave..."

slowtimes forever |D

[astoldinsong]

Bumblebee walks in, looking around the space curiously. Despite the lack of features, it's not at all hard for Bumblebee to see what Wheeljack's mood is: vaguely depressed about circumstances, like everyone here.

It follows, he decides 'aloud', gesturing to the ID bolt fixed to his person. It seems we all have bigger concerns right now than our war. And he never thought he'd say or think such a thing, but here he is. I guess I should be exploring my options for allies here. I saw some organics on the way ... so it's not just limited to Cybertronians? Those that 'slip'?

Nonetheless, 'Cons will always be 'Cons, so although he lowers his electromagnetic sensors - his 'wings' and droops a little in sympathy at Wheeljack's story about Megatron, he nods as well.

And his optics darken at the mention of Shockwave. I don't care whether the Transtechs are advanced or not: I wouldn't trust Shockwave or Soundwave any further than I could throw them. He pauses, then plays a laugh track over his speakers. Which is decently far, but not far enough!

Rolling his shoulder, he adds, I don't want to keep you too long, so - here's a log of the damage. And he transmits the data: a lot of superficial damage, of course, but a faulty ignition, long-term low oil damage, loss of his holotech, and worst of all, the crack in his frame. He gives Wheeljack time to digest the log before indicating the poor man's welding job done at his hip. I did the best I could with it, but it isn't generally load-bearing.

And ever...and ever...and- XD;;;

[derpjack_ftw]

"That 'slip'?" Wheeljack wasn't really sure what he meant by that, but he shrugged with a nod. "Allies are good, an' I'm sure you'll find plenty. Me, for one. If you'll have me, of course. An' I'd be happy ta introduce ya ta others if ya'd like. Includin' some'a the organics here, yeah. There really are some great people here." He laughs at the scout's comment about throwing and is about to reply, but then the other continues.

"Oh, it's okay! I honestly really don't mind, an' I like company." Still, he accepted the data, nodding as he went through it in detail. "Yeah, this is all stuff I can take care of for ya, no problem. Have a seat?"

He led Bumblebee over to a stool by one of his workbenches and started pulling together tools and supplies. He talked as he worked. "Gettin' back ta the TransTechs' Shockwave, though . . . there's somethin' you should know about that. Always best ta be as prepared as ya can be. See . . . one'a the problems we've been havin' is that periodically, someone'll go missin'. No warnin', no trace. Even if there was someone by 'em before that. Like . . . like Ratchet. Primaxian Ratchet." Since there was an open link between them, Wheeljack took the liberty of sending Bumblebee a few quick images unless they were blocked. "He an' I are roommates. We share an apartment up on Level Three. I've installed a security system that, frankly, is slaggin' near impossible ta get through. But . . . someone did. An' they took Ratchet..."

The knowledge that someone had breached his security system didn't upset him quite as much as the fact that Ratchet had been taken and what had been done to him. But it still galled him. He realized his hand had clenched in a tight fist on the tool he held, and he made himself loosen his grip. He looked up at Bumblebee as he continued his work.

"Three days. The one missin' is always gone for three days, an' then turns up in some random location in one'a the lower levels. Six or below. No memory at all of the abduction or the intervenin' time. An' it doesn't seem ta be Autobot or Decepticon, because both sides have suffered activity. Even some'a the organics! An' the worst part? They always come back . . . changed in some way. Somethin's different about 'em. They heal faster, or their voice works different, or . . . o-or their mind's been tampered with..." Again, Wheeljack has to remind himself to loosen up on the tool in his hand, his optics darkening to deep, angry indigo at the last. "They've been basically experimented on somehow. We have reason ta believe it's Shockwave, the TransTechs' Shockwave . . . but the fraggers won't listen ta us. They think they've got a good leash on 'im or somethin'. There's one who might listen ta us, but we gotta gather enough proof that our presentation is absolutely irrefutable . . . and the glitch who's doin' it is good. Leaves basically no trace whatsoever, so we really have nothin' ta go by."

And . . . he realized that he'd rambled on. He paused, glancing away as he rolled his shoulders to release the tension in cables and struts of his substructure. "Sorry . . . I know that's a lot ta absorb, but . . . well, we do our best ta look out for each other, ya know?"