Wheeljack (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wheeljackofalltrades) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
themainframe2013-08-28 09:29 pm
wheeljackofalltrades) wrote in themainframe2013-08-28 09:29 pm
Entry tags:
007 // [Video]
[It's some time in the morning. Or rather, something close to that effect. Wheeljack's up and about, getting himself ready for the day. Doing all the menial tasks that are expected to take care of a human body. The feed clicks on, showing the Wrecker putting on his jacket as he looks up, taking notice of the accidental video. He's about to snatch it, to turn it off. That is...until an audio clip plays.]
You and Bulkhead share quite a history. And yet you prefer to work alone...
[The camera flashes to with one final time, coming back to Wheeljack, who looks like he's just seen a ghost.]
[He falls to his knees, right in the middle of the apartment living room, staring blankly into the feed. Like a deer in the headlights. If there was one thing he didnt' want to relive...one thing he could have gone without...]
You and Bulkhead share quite a history. And yet you prefer to work alone...
[It was Optimus's voice...but the man himself seems to be taken aback by it--looking around for the source. Not only because of the similairity in vocal signature, but the fact that he'd SAID this before. What seemed like ages ago. Before he can react, the feed cuts to a scene at night, in what looks like a desert landscape high up on the mesa.
A large, round, robot seems to be approaching the camera from around the corner. A hand goes to the back of his neck, as if trying to figure out how to word this.]
Jackie...look, even if it weren't for the humans, we couldn't take on the Cons right now! We're outnumbered!
[There's a sharp glare to the bot, eyes narrowed. Wheeljack's voice emits from the feed, obviously angry at that for an answer. It starts off as a list of names--of people who've died since the war started. Members of Wheeljack's and --by extension--Bulkhead's group. Only with every name he states...the feed clips to something else.]
A large, round, robot seems to be approaching the camera from around the corner. A hand goes to the back of his neck, as if trying to figure out how to word this.]
Jackie...look, even if it weren't for the humans, we couldn't take on the Cons right now! We're outnumbered!
[There's a sharp glare to the bot, eyes narrowed. Wheeljack's voice emits from the feed, obviously angry at that for an answer. It starts off as a list of names--of people who've died since the war started. Members of Wheeljack's and --by extension--Bulkhead's group. Only with every name he states...the feed clips to something else.]
*Roadbuster-
Can't say you chose the ideal place to get yourself scrapped, Con.
Can't say you chose the ideal place to get yourself scrapped, Con.
[The feed cuts to what looks like a Mexican standoff around a smelting pool of some pure blue liquid.. You know--the robot version of one. From Wheeljack's point of view, it shows two nameless bots, and all three of them seem to have their blasters aimed at each other. There's some twitching fingers, and--
In the span of half a second, everyone fires.
Unfortunately, the opposing one fired at the pool itself--
-BOOM-]
*Pyro-
Pyro, let's move!
[Blaster fire was everywhere, and it's obvious that Wheeljack and the other Wreckers are outnumbered. The enemies are swarming like an angry hive, inching them back further and further. That is...until one steps forward. One who looks suspiciously like Optimus--or someone who just WANTS to look like Optimus.]
Wreckers don't call for backup, right?
What are you thinkin'--
So don't back me up.
[The bot charges into the fray, dishing out some heavy damage to the enemy reinforcements. Although it's obvious that he won't be able to hold up his front for long. Using one bot to bash into another, he calls out to Wheeljack.]
Get them out of here, idiot! I'll hold e'm off!
I ain't leavin' ya.
Yes. You are. I can HANDLE this, Wheeljack.
[And the camera starts backing up, slowly, before running out the door. There are Wreckers alongside him, running as well, although cursing their decision. In the distance...a blood curdling scream is heard.]
*Impactor-
[Next, the feed brings us to a large bot standing on a ledge looking over a crowd. But it's hard to see--Wheeljack seems to be fighting to get towards said stranger in the distance, as if his life depended on it. Not that the bot seems to notice. He's too busy with someone already up on the 'stage']
I've brought you all some entertainment.
[That gaze snaps to attention, fixing in on the bot on the ledge. It didn't even take half a second--he had another bot by his head, holding him over the crowd threateningly.]
[To which the crowd practically goes wild for. They're vicious bug-like creatures, with mandibles and gargantuan in size. The bot holding the smaller...he seems to be their leader.]
Make sure to share.
[And like that, the bot is tossed in, and immediately clawing their way into him. It's brutal and graphic, and each second that passes by feels like an hour.]
[White flash
(disclaimer: that is Fort Max in the comic picture--its merely for an example)]
*Rotorstorm--
In the span of half a second, everyone fires.
Unfortunately, the opposing one fired at the pool itself--
-BOOM-]
*Pyro-
Pyro, let's move!
[Blaster fire was everywhere, and it's obvious that Wheeljack and the other Wreckers are outnumbered. The enemies are swarming like an angry hive, inching them back further and further. That is...until one steps forward. One who looks suspiciously like Optimus--or someone who just WANTS to look like Optimus.]
Wreckers don't call for backup, right?
What are you thinkin'--
So don't back me up.
[The bot charges into the fray, dishing out some heavy damage to the enemy reinforcements. Although it's obvious that he won't be able to hold up his front for long. Using one bot to bash into another, he calls out to Wheeljack.]
Get them out of here, idiot! I'll hold e'm off!
I ain't leavin' ya.
Yes. You are. I can HANDLE this, Wheeljack.
[And the camera starts backing up, slowly, before running out the door. There are Wreckers alongside him, running as well, although cursing their decision. In the distance...a blood curdling scream is heard.]
*Impactor-
[Next, the feed brings us to a large bot standing on a ledge looking over a crowd. But it's hard to see--Wheeljack seems to be fighting to get towards said stranger in the distance, as if his life depended on it. Not that the bot seems to notice. He's too busy with someone already up on the 'stage']
I've brought you all some entertainment.
[That gaze snaps to attention, fixing in on the bot on the ledge. It didn't even take half a second--he had another bot by his head, holding him over the crowd threateningly.]
[To which the crowd practically goes wild for. They're vicious bug-like creatures, with mandibles and gargantuan in size. The bot holding the smaller...he seems to be their leader.]
Make sure to share.
[And like that, the bot is tossed in, and immediately clawing their way into him. It's brutal and graphic, and each second that passes by feels like an hour.]
[White flash
(disclaimer: that is Fort Max in the comic picture--its merely for an example)]
*Rotorstorm--
You don't know who you're messing with. We're not -just- Autobots. We're Wreckers.
[The feed cuts to an indistinguishable planet, but what looks to be a prison. The camera is through the eyes of someone, probably obvious by now, with all the memories going around. To the sides, there were bots that, obviously, most couldn't place a name to. Prisoners, all circling what looked to be an 'arena' of some sorts. Counting them up, there couldn't have been any more than twenty total, not including one gathering special attention. Speaking of--
In the distance, a large, nameless bot has another by what looks to be helicoptor blades--or the Cybertronian version of them. With a simple flick of his hand, the goliath throws the bot forward. The statement doesn't seem to impress the giant, looking over towards Wheeljack and the camera itself. Getting a glimpse of his face, it was enough to send shivers up your spine. The eyes were soulless, red pools--with a smile that was anything but cheerful. It was bloodthirsty. Wheeljack moves--or at least the camera does, ready to attack the bot who had one of the Wreckers hostage.
He's soon stopped, though, as the bot's hand changes into a rather impressive looking blaster pisotl, pointing directly at the smaller one's forehead. Wheeljack stops dead in his tracks, eyes wide.
He's soon stopped, though, as the bot's hand changes into a rather impressive looking blaster pisotl, pointing directly at the smaller one's forehead. Wheeljack stops dead in his tracks, eyes wide.
The giant only chuckles. As if watching a tiny dog attempt to make itself seem more threatening than it is. His expression? Almost taunting.]
Well whattya know! This guy's got a sense of humor, Wheeljack. Let's give a round of applause to-
[The white light flashes out once again--]
*Seaspray.
[The camera settles in space--away from any real planets or star systems. The line of sight this time is from inside a ship, and anyone who knows Wheeljack knows that this is his ship. He's doing the routine gestures: checking the scanners, getting a track on what looks to be a ship in front of him.
A flick of the switch sends a transmission out.]
Hey Sea, ya gonna land somewhere so we can rendezvous? Or are you gonna have me chase ya forever? Don't think my spark can take that kind of let down.
[A whistle sounds out from the other end of the feed, almost nautical in pitch.]
You know I wouldn't do that to you, Jackie. It'd crush ya.
[Wheeljack's chuckle sounds through the ship's walls, and turns to check those scanners one more ti--
There's silence for a moment, time almost slowing down as a wall of force suddenly hits the ship. It's hurled backward, tumbling like a tumbleweed as Wheeljack holds onto his controls for dear life. Stabilizers immediately went to work, straightening the ship's bearings out, and giving him a glimpse at what caused it.
What was Seaspray's ship was now ground zero of an explosion.]
[The camera flashes to with one final time, coming back to Wheeljack, who looks like he's just seen a ghost.]
All Dust.
[He falls to his knees, right in the middle of the apartment living room, staring blankly into the feed. Like a deer in the headlights. If there was one thing he didnt' want to relive...one thing he could have gone without...]
Wh-Wheeljack...?
[It takes a moment for him to respond, even if its just looking at You. And as he's about to say something--one last audio clip]
The Wreckers scattered a long time ago...
...and alone's..usually a lot less complicated.
no subject
Thousands of years and that's the best you can do?
[Garrus glances at the target before shouldering the rifle with practiced ease, aiming and firing in the same fluid motion. His shot hits dead center, and he squeezes off two more, the shots landing in a tight cluster no bigger than a quarter. Don't feel bad, the sniper is his thing.]
no subject
's different when the gun's part of your body.
[His eyes remain on the target, waiting to see Garrus's shots. And lo and behold, when seeing the three shots so close together, his eyebrows raise, followed by a smirk.]
Colour me impressed.
no subject
[Garrus slings the rifle back over his shoulder.]
Long range is kind of what I do.
no subject
[He smirks at the once!Turian's savvy little gunsling. He'll just hold his like a cane and lean on it.]
I'm more for blades myself.
no subject
[He leans back against the side of the booth.]
Not exactly part of the standard training back on Palaven, but I have a little practice. Better with regular hand-to-hand techniques though.
no subject
[Nothing like feeling a punch connect to someone you really don't like.]
My turn?
no subject
If you think you can top that.
no subject
[He's back at the target again, this time keeping his hand more steady. If he was going to compete with Garrus, he had to be on par.
With another shot, he fires with slightly better accuracy, hitting just a fraction above one of his.]
See?
no subject
Better, but I don't know if I'd call it good.
no subject
[He chuckles and leans back, soaking in that compliment. This was helping get his mind off of things, that's for sure.]
no subject
I'm sure you'll get the hang of it.
no subject
[There's a soft elbow. Hope you don't mind bros 4 lyfe, Garrus.]
no subject
[Not one bit.]
no subject
no subject
[He shoulders the rifle again, and oh, oh look. It's another bulls-eye. Have a friendly, competitive smirk.]
no subject
You'll find I keep up pretty well.
no subject
Alright then. This'll get interesting.