re_alignment | [Accidental Video]

[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.]

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[He... doesn't know how to name the feeling suddenly so present and raw in him. It actually makes him take a step back, hand to his head. Perceptor has always managed to maintain a professional detachment from situations.]

[Always.]

[Until now.]

You... and everyone else here.

[There's a flicker of something he does recognize, however. His own irritation. He huffs, the sound his usual tone of annoyance.]

Oh? And where does that leave me, hm? I like to believe I'm rather reliable, thank you very much.

[The sudden movement causes Wheeljack to look up, worry flickering in his eyes. He wouldn't show it outwardly, but it was there.

As if time had stopped for the Wrecker. But when Perceptor speaks...

there's relaxation. Everything's alright.]

...

[A look down at that question.]

's why you're here, Sarge.

[He tosses some metal to the side, his voice all but serious. But at the same time, it doesn't have that usual smarmy sound to it.]

We're buildin' a second armory.

Don't worry about me. I'm ... it's nothing.

[He waves at him. Even though Wheeljack... never actually said he was concerned. He just knows.]

[Maybe they just know each other too well by now. That's all it is, right?]

You want me... to help you build weapons?

[He almost can't believe what he's hearing. He shakes his head a little.]

You know I can't. Not weapons.

'm not worried.

[It's said quickly, as if a footnote before what he says next. He doesn't question Perceptor's knowledge of it, though. As if he just assumed there was some logical deduction behind it.]

That's what I'm sayin'. I can't trust the Police HQ, not as much as they probably want me to. I don't even want a lotta guys knowin' about this place.

But it's gotta be big. Just in case.

[His head turns down, as if knowing Perceptor would say that.]

Then design em. I'll do the hard part.

... Aren't you?

[He's gone this far. He might as well keep digging the hole deeper.]

[And he listens, in silence. He's torn -- he wants to help. Wheeljack could probably use it. And leaving him to do this alone isn't something he wants to consider.]

[But he's a pacifist. He's never worked on weapons. Never fought. At what point can he hold onto his morality and his... and someone so important?]

... It makes me incredibly uncomfortable, even doing that.

...

Not the point.

[Those eyes cast down though, at Perceptor's rebuttal. He should stop it there, just accept that the scientist wasn't going to do this.]

Then...that's that.

[Wait, he's actually doing what he should? It's a lot of pride to swallow, and even more his attempts to argue.]

Anythin'.

Primus...

[His hand just smooths over his face. Slowly, air cycles. He can't just... leave him.]

[Not after everything.]

Answer me honestly. If you lie to spare my feelings, I'll never forgive you.

... do you need my help.

...

There's no scientist like ya on Cybertron, Sarge.

[You want honesty? Fine.]

I need ya really fraggin' badly. I want smart weapons. Weapons that only work for me. Weapons magnetized to my hand.

So in case scrap goes down, I'll be the one to fix it.

[He falls silent, staring down at his hands. Clenching his fists. The weight of what Wheeljack's saying hits him hard. He can't deny the sincerity there.]

[He cycles air, slowly.]

...

I can do that.

All of that. It's... simple, actually, to put in such a modification.

That's all I'm askin'. Don't want ya breakin' your...you know.

[He turns his back, quickly, to start sorting through the metal again.]

And don't tell anyone about this place.

To violate my morals?

[He stands there, awkwardly, just inside the doorway, arms folded and head bowed.]

[How does he even say this...]

... I'll keep your secret. You've my word.

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