re_alignment | [Video]

Entry tags:

✘ tf: prime | wheeljack

[Video]

[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.]

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[God dammit Percy you're making this harder on him.]

I'm sorry, alright? I didn't think you'd do...that.

[An obscure gesture to...the air. Really, this is awkward for him because Percy's reaction was so abrupt. Worried.]

Just knew something was wrong.

You didn't think I'd what? Be concerned you'd suddenly, literally, blew yourself up?

[At some point, he'll realize he's unloading a massive pile of emotions and... stop. Now is not that point.]

Do you honestly believe no one would be affected if little pieces of your frame were suddenly scattered across the Haven?

That I wouldn't be affected!

[This is...wow. Percy, he didn't think you'd--explode like this. If anyone held in their emotions and kept them in check, it was him.

Wheeljack looks like he's been smacked right in the face. Good thing this is audio.]

...Sarge.

[It's really all he can say right now.]

No. Don't give me that.

[Partly because he's still incredibly upset. And, partly because he's starting to realize he's letting everything slip.]

[He goes quiet, seething. At himself, and at Wheeljack. At this place. At Liege for doing this to him...]

I'm going back to work. Don't bother disturbing me until you've gotten your act together.

[No. No way is it ending here. Wheeljack'll peel off his own paint before he's calling this settled.]

You hang up and I'm coming over there.

We're talkin'.

I have nothing more to say on the subject.

[Because if he does, he's going to say way more than he wants to.]

[Click.]

[SURPRISE BITCH because that's not good enough for him! Wheeljack's stubborn, and if Perceptor's going to lock him out he'll just have to force his way in. Forge and all. Without warning (because the scientist hung up on him), he arrives at Trion's temple, ready to throw down a door because.

Well, he's locked out, right?

Something in him tells him to try the codes, even if it's--

Are you serious? His codes still work? PERCY YOU'RE NOT EVEN TRYING.]

Hey, I've got a bone to pick with you, Sarge.

[... he knew he forgot something.]

[He'll blame the stress and the emotions, and the work with the aberrant energon completely distracting. Regardless, his back goes rigid, hearing it open, hearing that voice.]

[He stands with his back to the door, doing his best to focus on himself, on the work, and not the Wrecker storming inside.]

[Stupid stupid Firstforged and their stupid, stupid "gifts".]

And I said, I have nothing more to say on the subject, Wheeljack.

Too bad. I do.

[You don't just hang up on him, Percy. Not when he's still wanting to talk. Which...to be honest, was a really rare thing for him, okay. Usually he's the one who's hanging up.

He storms over to the scientist, trying to separate him from said work.]

We're talking. Now.

[He shifts, in order to put his shoulder between the console and the approaching Wheeljack. Anything to really keep the confrontation from progressing.]

[... Unfortunately, that also means he's closer to the source of those angry emotions, and it's even more difficult to shut them out.]

Not now. I'm working.

[Bullshit you're working. That's not a good enough answer for the Wrecker, attempting to wedge himself into that little blockade that Perceptor's put himself in.]

Not 'nymore you aren't.

[He'll get in there if he pushes harder, right?

Not now, Wheeljack.

[He pushes back. Yes, irritation. That's good. That means he doesn't have to listen to the echoing feelings --]

[He's annoyed. Although he doesn't realize some of it might not be his own.]

I don't have time for this.

[If there's one thing Wheeljack's built to take, it's shoves from bigger bots. Being one of the smaller Wreckers, he definitely can handle his weight and more, pressing against that resistance.]

What is your problem?! You call to yell at me and now suddenly you're 'busy'!

[Air quotes and all.]

Nothing! It isn't anything! You...!

[He makes several strangled sounds.]

[And then his hands slam down on the keyboard. With uncharacteristic and jarring force. He rounds on Wheeljack, as if to unleash the tirade, the anger building up in his spark...]

[And just stops, staring at him. The jumbled mix of emotions threatens to bubble up, and he lets it. He sags where he stands, looking, for the first time, utterly helpless. He can't do this. He can't keep throttling this down and expect to be able to hold out.]

[He's too frayed.]

I can't do this.

I cannot... do this. Not now. Maybe not ever.... I cannot stand to turn on that wretched Link one more time and see that someone has exploded or become infected or left--

[His hands are clenched into fists without him realizing it.]

That is my problem.

You. Are my problem.

[To say that it was uncharacteristic of Perceptor to do that would be...well, stating the obvious. The scientist, no matter how irritated he was, seemed calm and collected, even in his rage. But not now. Now there was real anger, real frustration. And...Wheeljack didn't know how to combat that.

He was so used to being the one to dish it out. And it was usually on pointless things. A broken experiment. A malfunctioning device. Doing something stupid.

This...how do you even respond to it?

But seeing him sag like that is probably what hits home the most. He can't place it in his spark, but something about his body language...it makes him feel awful.

And then words come. Words that are even harder to hear than he could imagine. His eyes soften, brows relaxed, standing there only a few feet from the scientist. Actually quiet. And listening. It all falls into place, when he speaks. They were in the same boat. And if something had happened to him, Wheeljack would be in the same place, raving mad. Taking action, whereas Perceptor sealed himself off. It was just how they worked.

You are my problem.

Those eyes grow wide, looking up at him. Was all of this...about him?]

S-...[No. That's not right. Not right now.]

Perceptor.

[By contrast, he can't even meet the Wrecker's gaze. He can't lift his optics. It's all he can do to stop talking and let more things spill out. Things that aren't appropriate. Aren't safe.]

[Aren't logical.]

[He forces his hands to uncurl by degrees, bracing one against the desk, the other pressing against his face.]

Don't.

[He doesn't even know what he's telling Wheeljack not to do. It just comes out -- like so many other things lately. Ranting should have made him feel better. It didn't. It only made him regret everything coming out of his mouth. Like admitting to a problem, admitting he needed someone else just made everything more complicated.]

[He'd never wanted this.]

[None of this.]

... Let's forget this happened. I have... work to return to.

[Because there was safety and logic in work that other lives were incapable of reproducing. He wanted to withdraw into it and lock the proverbial door behind him.]

[It was worth a try, if nothing more.]

[He's a bit taken aback by the 'Don't.' One word seemed to sting harder than that grenade ever hoped. He doesn't even know what Perceptor means by it, but it doesn't hurt any less.

Despite being a Wrecker, Wheeljack doesn't lash out. Or say anything for that matter. Whenever it came to this stuff, he was always unusually quiet, and now was no different. His footwork shifts slightly, searching for something to say.]

Do you mean that?

[It sounds tired, just as defeated. Whether or not it was to the 'Let's forget', the 'Don't', or what Perceptor said earlier...that's up to personal interpretation.

Maybe all three.]

[The quiet doesn't bode well. Not from Wheeljack. He should still be shouting. Talking. Moving. Something other than standing quietly while Perceptor tried to sort his head out.]

[And ultimately failed.]

[He doesn't look at him until that tone registers. And then it's a slow, weary stare. There's too much in those words for him to sort out on top of everything else. And while he shouldn't worry so much over it...]

[... something in him makes him cautious.]

Mean... mean what? That I cannot continue watching you potentially turn yourself to scrap metal?

Yes. I do mean that.

[It comes out far more bitter than he ever wanted it to.]

[He couldn't. Not when this was the topic of conversation. He didn't know how to fight against it. Insulting his crew? Throw a punch. Discussing strategies? Shove your way into it.

This? This had no target whatsoever. And Primus if he'd throw a punch at Perceptor. That was just off the table.

His eyes dodge the other's, taking quick glances before looking away, as if he were bashful of the situation.]

So if I do this...thing.

I'm gonna stop bein'...-your- problem?

[He almost laughs. As if there were one thing Wheeljack could do to solve everything. If it were so simple, he'd have made him do it already. Or thought of it.]

[He shakes his head, instead, shifting slightly away from him. Easier to put distance there. Easier not to look at him.]

... I don't have any idea what thing you're talking about.

[He means that, too. He's so close to wit's end with this entire situation, it's almost unbearable to be around the foolish Wrecker anymore.]

[Not so fast, Percy. He's out to grab your arm, at least keeping you within speaking distance.]

I mean if I stop blowin' myself to bits. Or tryin' to.

[Because as much as Wheeljack won't admit it, he doesn't want to make Percy go through that.]

[His arm is caught. It's caught and nothing in him wants to pull away. Even though it's easier now, to feel the emotions in the other bot. To feel him, and it's suddenly more like drowning.]

[There's a visible tremor in the big scientist's hands. In his entire frame. No matter how he focuses, there's no way to keep things at bay right now.]

[His voice comes out nearly hoarse, and very soft.]

It... would be a start.

Please.

[He feels that shaking, and something in his spark freezes at the very thought that Perceptor had been holding this in the whole time. He's been reckless more than once, he knows that--this was just what eventually broke the scientist.

Had he...always felt like this on the inside? Covering it up with that snark?

And why did it hurt to know that? Certainly hurt more than that grenade explosion.]

Fine. You got it, Sarge.

I'll do whatever helps ya sleep--I mean it.

[He shakes his head a little, still avoiding looking at him. That uncertainty. The hurt. It's too much. Way too much. He starts to draw away.]

[He can't handle this. It's making it difficult to focus on Wheeljack's words. On anything more than what's running through his head.]

I... I'm not sure I can believe that.

You throw yourself into danger -- you --

I know you mean it, but I don't know if you're going to keep that word, the next time something horrendous occurs.

[He pauses, doing his best to control the tremors, control the raging thoughts long enough to say something.]

--because I know you, you reckless... stupid... courageous -- You can no more sit by while terrible things happen than I can shoot a rifle! It's --

Admirable.

[He backed up slightly, at first offended--like Perceptor didn't believe him. Only until he heard the rest, where those eyes just look up, almost...

helpless.

It was true, though. Whatever Perceptor said was true. As much as he said he'd give his word, he couldn't back down if someone needed him. He'd learned to handle things on this planet that way, by running head in and swords out.

It's the complaints that get him, though. That make his head snap up. Was he dreaming it? It sure seemed like something his brain would cook up.]

Admirable.

[Just...making sure he got you correctly.]

You think I'm--

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