[Wheeljack wasn't one to question things, really. But when something goes wrong in his world, there's -usually- repurcussions for said thing that went wrong. So...you can see the confusion when he opens up the feed. He's SOMEWHERE in Solus's temple--the lack of indents and scorch marks are a key sign that it's not his room--eyebrow perked.]
So uh...can you guys do me a favour and just watch this for me?
[Before you can even give an answer, he sets the Link back slightly, giving a full shot of him. Grabbing a grenade.
And pulling the pin--PLEASE NO WHEELJACK.
He sets it a few feet away, folding his arms. And...well, like it should, it detonates. Smoke billows through the whole room, the walls once untouched by scorch are now charred black, and the Link may have bounced a little from the impact.
But...Wheeljack walks out of it, and aside from scorch to match the walls, looks relatively unharmed.]
That's not normal. I'm good but I'm not -that- good.
[Well no shit, Wheeljack.]
[Oh hey it's the day of showing others you truly care about them and sending them cards and chocolates and flowers--]
Wreckers are disbanded. For good.
[That seems to be the end of the transmission. Well, Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Mr. Sunshine-and-Rainbows.]
[Some people don't react to change well. And with the pillar event over and done with, and everyone back to normal, the reaction was only worse. Everyone came back okay, things should have been well and good, right? Not for everyone, and it's not even someone who went down there. Wheeljack had two people close to him affected, and in turn, got affected in his own way.
It was way too close of a call. A reality check, if you will.
It's had a lot of side effects on the Wrecker. Sleeping less, unable to keep still (Then again, his boons from Solus helped the fatigue), and keeping himself busy. He'd even taken a little haven out in Solus's sector (That's where his 'scouting missions' have been leading, for those who've met up with him). Oh Wheeljack, we thought you were just starting to get better!
The sound of metal clangs in the background as Wheeljack brings more into his little mancave. In fact, when the feed pans out, it shows a lot of diverse metal. Another thing he couldn't explain was his affinity for identifying metals. It wasn't a knowledge he'd previously known, at least not to the extent as this. Like Primus he'd ever ask about it though. He knows by now that strange thing happening = First Forged did something. Don't mess with the pattern, it doesn't mess with you.]
Adamantium. Can't say I'm disappointed.[That was how he was spending his time lately. Keeping busy, doing something. Solus had granted him one of her forges before, but without that boon now, he had to do things the old fashioned way: his own personal smelting pit for heat, and the tools he had around him. To be honest, he's in a cave with a box of scraps.
A hand goes along the back of his neck, a gesture he'd picked up as he inspects some of his findings.]
Whelp, time to get to work.[Wheeljack what are you doing.]
[It's a relatively short broadcast. Wheeljack seems to be making a lot of those recently.
Well, when he's not acting crazy.]
If ya need me, I'm gonna be at the Hub for...
[And it looks like he's already started. There's a small tower of cubes lined up.]
[So a pillar's been taking residence in the Haven? Most would find this weird, or even...an intruder. Most would be suspicious that it's what's been causing all the trouble around there. The key word here is...most.
The feed clicks on, and shows Wheeljack actually up an about! Seems like Solus's boon did quite a lot for him--his arm seems to be functioning well, after all. His back is turned for the moment, digging in what looks to be the junkpile, pulling out a bunch of wires and metal and tossing them into a pile next to himself.
What were they for?
Who knows--oh wait, he turns around.]
So I've been thinkin'--
[And already we see something's terribly, terribly wrong. The facemask has been pulled over Wheeljack's mouth. Usually, this is only for battle, but Wheeljack seems to have...taken a liking to it? For now? And let's not get started on those audials. At the very sound of his voice, they seem to blink like a bad neon sign, at almost every syllable.
That's not annoying.]
With all this junk in the junkpile, I'm thinkin we just need to spruce up somma our equipment, if ya get what I'm sayin'. I don't have much, but I think I got just enough to get a flux capacitor implemented in our own frames!
Just imagine, time travel to any point! Then we could REALLY see how we got to this place. If only I had a proper lab, this would be a whole lot easier. Any ideas?
Oh yeah, that pillar's lookin' pretty weird too.
[What the fuck just happened.]
[There's no introduction this time. Probably because he's in the medical bay, still getting his arm fixed up. And recovering from Tarn-related injuries. No explanation, no fancy hello.]
We need an armory.
More specifically--I want one.
[Why don't you tell us how you really feel, Wheeljack?]
[Three words. Wheeljack's, not. happy.
And when Wheeljack's not happy? Things tend to happen. Whether or not you guys actually know about it is a whole different story. But he'll let one thing go on the feed really quick.]
So. Anyone gonna tell me who the scrap fragged one of my medics, or am I gonna have to go on a scavenger hunt?
Cause I got a pretty good idea, and unless anyone else has somethin' for share-time, I say we go for it.[A patient one, he is. And you say that like you aren't going to anyway, Wheeljack.]( Locked to the Wreckers )( Locked to Solus Prime )
[Someone had their beauty sleep.
And by beauty sleep, we mean he looks and sounds like he's been to the Pit and back.
It'd been almost two weeks since Wheeljack fell unconscious. Two weeks too long, if you asked him. He awoke, the feeling of his head buzzing and and his optics blurry. Oh, and pain. Lots and lots of pain. But the question was...where was he? This place seemed familiar...
His eyes almost immediately widened, remembering everything. Parting ways with Ratchet after the Iacon relic hunt, finding Bulkhead on that medical berth with nothing but an Energon line running through him. The fight with Hardshell, Miko saving him...being cast out from Team Prime and going solo...
The attack on Prime's base.
Being tortured at the hands of Starscream and Shockwave. All of it was as clear as crystal. And if it wasn't, he had a few friendly reminders in the large horizontal scar across his midsection, and a somewhat buzzy neural net. But Wheeljack wasn't one to let that stop him. As soon as he awoke, he found no one around him, probably stepping out for some fresh air.
Why not follow suit? The Wrecker stood up, his legs feeling practically like liquid as he took a few steps, hesitating every so often. His communicator goes on audio, the sound of a door slamming open and the loud footsteps of someone lacking...eloquence in their walk.]
What'd I miss.[Guess who's back.]
( Locked to Prime!Starscream and Prime!Shockwave )
[You always know there's something wrong with your body. Wheeljack knew that better than anyone right now. He didn't bring it up to anyone--figured he'd just been working too hard getting his ship completed, and the fatigue was finally setting in. Sleep should fix that eventually, right? No. Getting up in the mornings got increasingly more difficult. It went from fifteen minutes...to a half hour...hour... His body just wouldn't work with him. It didn't do what he told it to.
And that scared him.
He fought harder to act normal, mentally pushing himself to seem like everything was like any other day, only to drive away that sense of fear. That something might be happening to him. But now, it wasn't just his physical movement--
Everything seemed muted.
Conversations would echo in his head, bounce through his helm. It was distracting--and almost painful, the way the noises echoed on and on. He gripped his helm, disguising it as just rubbing his head, when he talked to others. But it got worse. Headaches came with it. And everytime he tried to find a way to tell Bulkhead, he just passed it off as an average migraine.
Maybe he'd call Percy. Or see Barricade. Or Ambulon. To put his worries to ease.
With his Link out, he's about to send a private message to either of them, on his way back from the Hub. But his body wouldn't work again, and mentally trying to push himself through it with his migraine just wasn't going to happen. The Link fell to the ground, clicking itself on as Wheeljack is shown, falling to his knees and panting.
If anyone happens to catch him like this, he'll have a few words to say, if he can get them out. Before collapsing on his side.]
[It'd been a month since Magnus left.
The commander had been gone that long before, and Wheeljack almost expected the same this time around. So...when that time rolled around, and still no Magnus after constantly searching the feed...
It was time to call it quits.
The feed opens up to show a room-...or what's left of one. The walls are cracked, scorched, bent, or indented in some places, although that seems to be the most of the damage. The berth is relatively untouched, and any of Miko's and Bulkhead's belongings are actually safe from damage. Wheeljack's own stuff? a different story. Only one thing of Wheeljack's was left untouched--the sword Blurr gave him--which was put under the bed weeks prior.
Sounds like someone had a tantrum, and it shows, with Wheeljack standing in the center of the room, panting heavily from all the lashing out...at the wall.
...Do you feel better now, princess?]
[He slumps against the wall, sinking to the ground and curling up.
...Just like old times.]
[The feed opens up, showing what looks to be a rough-draft edition of the Jackhammer. Or at least the top of it, anyway. An odd place to have a video post... although it's probably obvious who this is from, now. A little ways away is Wheeljack, propped up on one of the metal sheets of the ship, inspecting his swords. He seems almost...completely engrossed in them, to the point of where this might be an accidental video.
Oh wait, he flicks his eyes towards it once, then back down. This broadcast seems entirely on purpose. It takes a few minutes for him to respond, biting his lip before making an attempt to speak.]
So. With the Police Force up and runnin' the way it should be, forming it's own little clubhouse, I think it's time to make another proposition for ya guys. Ones who may or may not exactly like following rules.
I'm looking for bots, or even some of you organic types to form a team of Wreckers. We had a group here, but all...or most of em are gone. Don't know what a Wrecker is? Here's the rundown for ya: Black Ops. Guys who take missions that no sane commander will take. The ones who aren't afraid to get their hands dirty. We work outside the chain of command, meanin' you're under MY command, not the Police Force or Law Committee.
[He rolls his eyes. This part got him in trouble last time, so he'll post a disclaimer.]
For all you angels of the law, I'm not goin' on manhunts for no reason. So calm your tailpipes before you even start with me.
[And he's back to inspecting his sword, perking an eyebrow.]
I hate paperwork, so just convince me if you think you're good enough. In a spar. I ain't jokin' around this time. ( Locked to Bulkhead )
[Wheeljack certainly didn't take his humanization well. What was the first thing he did when he found out? Punched a wall. Yes, he IS a smart one isn't he. Thankfully, he didn't break anything, but it took a day or so for him to get movement back into it. So now he's going to let you know his feelings on the matter.]
This human thing stopped bein' fun two days ago.
[He holds up his hand, which is quite a nice shade of purple in some spots.]
That's normal, right?
[It's probably best if you don't ask.]
[So this guy's been pretty quiet lately. So either he's dead from explosion or he's been up to something. And you know what? Neither of them are too out of the blue for this guy. The feed opens to show him at flat, almost construction-like sight, looking over everything before turning his head to the feed. Well, I guess we can rule out the first idea, then! With a flick of his wings and a smirk on his lips, he bends down to the camera's height.]
So, Bulk and I finished setting up the construction pad. Who's still in to build a real, live spaceship? ...I'm kiddin' on the 'live' part.
[We're not building the Nemesis here. NOT LOOKING AT YOU, MEGATRON.]
So yeah, tell me who's still in on this, or who WANTS in on it. Buildin' starts tonight.
[He looks off for a minute, as if wondering if he should even ask this. It didn't really add to his broadcast, but it's been on his mind lately.]
[Slight rub of the back of his head.]
Anyone know why my glyph's all shimmery and big?
[WIth a twist, his shoulder turns towards the camera, showing off the glyph of Solus. It's slightly bigger, and a heck of a lot more glowy. And he'll be the first to admit that he's not into cosmetics.]
I'll be the first to tell ya, I'm not into cosmetics.
[Perceptor's lab was only interesting for so long. And that was for someone who was a science enthusiast. Throw in that Wheeljack was not, needed 'fresh air', and couldn't keep still, you have one half of a hand-cuffed duo trying to get out and see the world.
Oh yeah, Wheeljack and Magnus are now handcuffed. That went under the radar.
The only problem? Getting his 'partner' to come with him. Without that cooperation, it was a no go. And yet...in a surprising turn of events, Magnus had actually AGREED. Turns out a workaholic actually likes to do...surprise, WORK! Unfortunately, sneaking out made the feed of Wheeljack's comm click on, and it shows the two sliding out of the Trion Temple. Stealth ops specialists right here, folks.]
Don't slow me down, sparky.
[Naturally, there's a grim scowl on Ultra Magnus's face. Who's surprised? No one. But he looks down at Wheeljack]
You do realize I could lift you off the ground.
[That gets a glance back from the Wrecker. If there was one thing he'd like to avoid, it was getting dragged around.]
And since it's a stupid-fraggin idea, we're gonna ignore it as an option.
[Ultra Magnus narrows his eyes. Then raises his arm. Frag you, Wheeljack, he's gonna go walk now.]
[Nope, too late. He felt himself being pulled off his feet, completely being pulled at the mercy of Magnus. His face couldn't be any more unamused, watching the landscape go by and thinking all the terrible things that could happen to the Commander. That is...until he sees something ...something very out of place.]
Hey Magnus. Go over there. There's some kinda box.
Are you trying to give me orders?
[Could he frown any further? Because he's trying. Still, he humors Wheeljack, approaching the box and setting the Wrecker back to his feet.]
[Wheeljack just pouts in Magnus's general direction as he picks up the box, turning it every which way. And then...eyebrow perk.]
Funny...'s addressed to me...
[It's here Ultra Magnus actually looks vaguely concerned.]
Wheeljack, I'd be careful about opening that.
[CEPT NO. Wheeljack's already torn open the paper and--....
Well...can't say he expected noisemakers and confetti. The package practically explodes in his hands, and the confetti goes everywhere, collecting on the two bots for as long as they'll stay still.]