Oh lookie! Wheeljack fic! YAY
Title What's In an Upgrade
Characters Wheeljack, Spike, Sides, Sunny, Bluestreak, Jazz
Warnings NONE
Summary Wheeljack overhears a conversation in the rec room
Author’s Note This is just a thought on this piece of fanon. Also, think this is my first Wheeljack fic, woot!
Spike guided Mario through the air, rapidly pressing the button to keep the raccoon tail going. Sideswipe, Jazz and Bluestreak crouched behind him, watching the game on the tiny screen. Bumblebee sat next to Spike on the Autobot-sized couch, but none of the other mechs obviously felt comfortable sitting next to their more squishable friend.
Wheeljack took all this in within the span of a few astrosecond. He knew of Mario, as he’d been intrigued by the human entertainment systems when Spike had first brought them over. Though at the time, they’d had to watch through the human ‘apartment’ doorway. The game consoles weren’t compatible with the Autobot displays, and so Spike had to drag out their little television, to let the Autobots watch him play.
He continued on past the little group, bound for the Energon dispenser. After his initial interest, he found the device terribly simple, and wished that they had the interactive holo simulators from Cybertron. Then Spike would really see some ‘gaming’.
He walked back past them, processor intent on his current project. He barely paid attention to the conversation of the people around the human television. It registered in his audios and was recorded to be reviewed later if necessary. Specific keywords would draw his attention to the conversation, inventions of his, a query for a solution, his name.
“…get Wheeljack to make one your size?”
Ah, yes. Just like that. Wheeljack paused before leaving and turned to pay better attention to the conversation.
“Slagging insane? You want it to blow up on us? I wouldn’t touch that with a hundred foot pole,” Sideswipe said in reply to Spike’s previous comment.
“One thousand foot pole. You know how big his blast radius tends to be,” Sunstreaker chimed in.
Sideswipe grinned over Bumblebee’s and Spike’s head at his brother. “If you want to go there, ten thousand foot pole would be more accurate.”
Wheeljack listened to the conversation, but couldn’t make any more heads or tails out of the it except that Spike thought he, Wheeljack, should make something for the larger mechs. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker obviously objected, and Jazz hadn’t added his two cents. Should he be worried about that? Maybe he should find out what they were talking about.
Easily enough done.
He accessed the conversation in his databanks, and skipped past the irrelevant parts, until he reached: “You know guys. Instead of just watching me play, maybe you should just get Wheeljack to make e your size?”
Oh. Hm. Well, how difficult would that be? Wheeljack pulled up an image of the controller, but he didn’t actually know what the components inside were. Though it should be a simple sensor pad device. Ah, but mech fingers would easily break that.
“If he did, wouldn’t he have to upgrade the whole system? Otherwise we’d still have to get someone to switch the games for us.”
How very true. Besides no human machine would be able to keep up with Cybertronian reaction times. Then he really ought to look into upgrading not just the size, but the processor and much of the hardware as well. But then the games wouldn’t work on it, would they? Or if they did, they’d be simple things on a sophisticated system of his making. That simply wouldn’t do, either. Goodness, this would to be a project in and of itself.
Spike laughed, a little self consciously. “That seems to be a lot of work just so you two can play a game or two.”
How very true, Spike.
Bluestreak twitched his wings. “Don’t you think I’d wanna play too, Spike? I mean, I’d at least want to try it. And I know Hound’s been itching to play with some of the human, um… well toys, I guess. And Trailbreaker would want to join Hound. I don’t really see Mirage playing, or any of the officers, oh of course except you Jazz, but I know other mechs would love to give the games a shot. Even Windcharger, or Gears…”
Sideswipe snorted, and Sunstreaker grumbled.
Bluestreak sat back and clamped his lips shut.
Of course he’d have to build multiple copies of the system plus the games they run. Otherwise Sides and Sunny would snatch it back to their quarters and hog the games all to themselves. Primus, this really would be a project. And for what purpose exactly? To let mechs enjoy some games, when someone probably must have perfectly good Cybertronian ones somewhere. Didn’t he have enough on his plate, as it was?
Wheeljack turned to resume his departure from the rec room.
“Not interested, ‘Jack?”
Wheeljack once again paused and turned a frown at the only other officer in the room. Trust Jazz to be the only mech to notice him standing there. “Don’t really have time for it right now Jazz.”
“It’d keep certain somebodies out of trouble, and Prowl would be eternally grateful.” Jazz grinned, a knowing glint in his visor.
“Too busy right now.” Wheeljack put on a glower at the other officer, and turned to leave.
He didn’t have time right now, but the idea was still interesting. Jazz was right, thought. Keeping some of the crew occupied would be worth some of the trouble.
And Wheeljack wouldn’t mind the chance to take one of the game consoles apart for a looksie anyways.
Characters Wheeljack, Spike, Sides, Sunny, Bluestreak, Jazz
Warnings NONE
Summary Wheeljack overhears a conversation in the rec room
Author’s Note This is just a thought on this piece of fanon. Also, think this is my first Wheeljack fic, woot!
Spike guided Mario through the air, rapidly pressing the button to keep the raccoon tail going. Sideswipe, Jazz and Bluestreak crouched behind him, watching the game on the tiny screen. Bumblebee sat next to Spike on the Autobot-sized couch, but none of the other mechs obviously felt comfortable sitting next to their more squishable friend.
Wheeljack took all this in within the span of a few astrosecond. He knew of Mario, as he’d been intrigued by the human entertainment systems when Spike had first brought them over. Though at the time, they’d had to watch through the human ‘apartment’ doorway. The game consoles weren’t compatible with the Autobot displays, and so Spike had to drag out their little television, to let the Autobots watch him play.
He continued on past the little group, bound for the Energon dispenser. After his initial interest, he found the device terribly simple, and wished that they had the interactive holo simulators from Cybertron. Then Spike would really see some ‘gaming’.
He walked back past them, processor intent on his current project. He barely paid attention to the conversation of the people around the human television. It registered in his audios and was recorded to be reviewed later if necessary. Specific keywords would draw his attention to the conversation, inventions of his, a query for a solution, his name.
“…get Wheeljack to make one your size?”
Ah, yes. Just like that. Wheeljack paused before leaving and turned to pay better attention to the conversation.
“Slagging insane? You want it to blow up on us? I wouldn’t touch that with a hundred foot pole,” Sideswipe said in reply to Spike’s previous comment.
“One thousand foot pole. You know how big his blast radius tends to be,” Sunstreaker chimed in.
Sideswipe grinned over Bumblebee’s and Spike’s head at his brother. “If you want to go there, ten thousand foot pole would be more accurate.”
Wheeljack listened to the conversation, but couldn’t make any more heads or tails out of the it except that Spike thought he, Wheeljack, should make something for the larger mechs. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker obviously objected, and Jazz hadn’t added his two cents. Should he be worried about that? Maybe he should find out what they were talking about.
Easily enough done.
He accessed the conversation in his databanks, and skipped past the irrelevant parts, until he reached: “You know guys. Instead of just watching me play, maybe you should just get Wheeljack to make e your size?”
Oh. Hm. Well, how difficult would that be? Wheeljack pulled up an image of the controller, but he didn’t actually know what the components inside were. Though it should be a simple sensor pad device. Ah, but mech fingers would easily break that.
“If he did, wouldn’t he have to upgrade the whole system? Otherwise we’d still have to get someone to switch the games for us.”
How very true. Besides no human machine would be able to keep up with Cybertronian reaction times. Then he really ought to look into upgrading not just the size, but the processor and much of the hardware as well. But then the games wouldn’t work on it, would they? Or if they did, they’d be simple things on a sophisticated system of his making. That simply wouldn’t do, either. Goodness, this would to be a project in and of itself.
Spike laughed, a little self consciously. “That seems to be a lot of work just so you two can play a game or two.”
How very true, Spike.
Bluestreak twitched his wings. “Don’t you think I’d wanna play too, Spike? I mean, I’d at least want to try it. And I know Hound’s been itching to play with some of the human, um… well toys, I guess. And Trailbreaker would want to join Hound. I don’t really see Mirage playing, or any of the officers, oh of course except you Jazz, but I know other mechs would love to give the games a shot. Even Windcharger, or Gears…”
Sideswipe snorted, and Sunstreaker grumbled.
Bluestreak sat back and clamped his lips shut.
Of course he’d have to build multiple copies of the system plus the games they run. Otherwise Sides and Sunny would snatch it back to their quarters and hog the games all to themselves. Primus, this really would be a project. And for what purpose exactly? To let mechs enjoy some games, when someone probably must have perfectly good Cybertronian ones somewhere. Didn’t he have enough on his plate, as it was?
Wheeljack turned to resume his departure from the rec room.
“Not interested, ‘Jack?”
Wheeljack once again paused and turned a frown at the only other officer in the room. Trust Jazz to be the only mech to notice him standing there. “Don’t really have time for it right now Jazz.”
“It’d keep certain somebodies out of trouble, and Prowl would be eternally grateful.” Jazz grinned, a knowing glint in his visor.
“Too busy right now.” Wheeljack put on a glower at the other officer, and turned to leave.
He didn’t have time right now, but the idea was still interesting. Jazz was right, thought. Keeping some of the crew occupied would be worth some of the trouble.
And Wheeljack wouldn’t mind the chance to take one of the game consoles apart for a looksie anyways.