Ultra Magnus (
thehardway) wrote in
re_alignment_logs2012-12-27 01:42 am
stupid handcuff shenanigans
WHO: Ultra Magnus, FoC!Perceptor, Wheeljack
WHERE: Perceptor's lab.
WHEN Thursday
WHAT: While trying to proactively attempt to initiate a good start on the construction of the Jackhammer and get Wheeljack and Perceptor to meet up and talk about it, Ultra Magnus makes do with his environment as promised with Perceptor and gets trashed. The results are horrible.
WARNINGS: Stupidity and probably one depressed Ultra Sadness.
On his third cube, he broods a bit more. Not real surprising, considering circumstances. It's not typical for him to, ah, grieve in this manner. Really, he tends to be more silent, more withdrawn, and detached; he doesn't let anything show if it upsets him. It's impossible to do this time for several reasons and it shows.
Hence the strange stages of mourning. It's been unusual to deal with. Magnus is so used to being the unshakeable, unchanging enforcer, because that is what the universe requires. That is what everyone requires, in order to be safe. He thinks little of it, typically, but he finds lately he wishes more and more that he could feel less.
It's positively miserable.
So he's here, drinking, and has gently given Justice off to Smokescreen for the night. He won't be able to manage the turbofox's peppy energy and Smokescreen will tire out the critter.
On the fourth, he comes up with a brilliant idea. He's in Perceptor's lab. Perceptor needs to talk to Wheeljack. Perceptor is already here. He could even mediate.
Perfect. He'll just call up Wheeljack.
Arranging a private message, he writes to the unruly Wrecker.
Wheeljack,
At Perceptor's lab. Need you here. Come ASAP. Need to talk.
-- Ultra Magnus
Flawless.
Onward to the fifth cube. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
WHERE: Perceptor's lab.
WHEN Thursday
WHAT: While trying to proactively attempt to initiate a good start on the construction of the Jackhammer and get Wheeljack and Perceptor to meet up and talk about it, Ultra Magnus makes do with his environment as promised with Perceptor and gets trashed. The results are horrible.
WARNINGS: Stupidity and probably one depressed Ultra Sadness.
On his third cube, he broods a bit more. Not real surprising, considering circumstances. It's not typical for him to, ah, grieve in this manner. Really, he tends to be more silent, more withdrawn, and detached; he doesn't let anything show if it upsets him. It's impossible to do this time for several reasons and it shows.
Hence the strange stages of mourning. It's been unusual to deal with. Magnus is so used to being the unshakeable, unchanging enforcer, because that is what the universe requires. That is what everyone requires, in order to be safe. He thinks little of it, typically, but he finds lately he wishes more and more that he could feel less.
It's positively miserable.
So he's here, drinking, and has gently given Justice off to Smokescreen for the night. He won't be able to manage the turbofox's peppy energy and Smokescreen will tire out the critter.
On the fourth, he comes up with a brilliant idea. He's in Perceptor's lab. Perceptor needs to talk to Wheeljack. Perceptor is already here. He could even mediate.
Perfect. He'll just call up Wheeljack.
Arranging a private message, he writes to the unruly Wrecker.
Wheeljack,
At Perceptor's lab. Need you here. Come ASAP. Need to talk.
-- Ultra Magnus
Flawless.
Onward to the fifth cube. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

no subject
That was the missing variable. Of course. He hadn't thought Magnus would call anyone, let alone Wheeljack. Well, that wouldn't be happening again. He shakes his head, making a shooing motion, as if to chase off the very idea of this being funny.
"You weren't meant to be involved, I... Now is not the time for that discussion, Commander."
Honestly, it's like he's talking to a newly sparked platform. Especially when Magnus cuts off mid-sentence. Perceptor pinches the bridge of his nose, cycling air slowly out of his vents.
"Both of you... sit down. Before you fall down."
Primus' rusted pistons this was a mess.
no subject
"...Well, can't say I'll ever see the name of my own slaggin' ship the same way again..."
There's a slight wince as that shock takes effect, and his wings perk up slightly at it. Scrap, that hurt...
"Rrrright. How about we do the obvious thing and GET THIS OFF ME, PERCE."
Yelling is not exactly the best thing for the situation, is it? OH WELL.
no subject
He squints at the cuffs, as if he's not entirely sure how they got there. What did he just do? Was he arresting someone? No, it couldn't be, because it's Wheeljack. Who is... Wheeljack, but not a criminal. So what now?
The yelling earns a wider look, optics brightening.
"Ah. Not so loud," he requests, leaning his head back. "What were we doing?"
no subject
When Magnus sits -- on the floor, astonishingly enough -- Perceptor sets his hands on the big Autobot's shoulders. Again. Hopefully it's enough pressure to keep him in place. Or at least convince him moving is a terrible idea.
Wheeljack's shout earns as close an approximation to a raised eyebrow as he can get. "They weren't designed to come off," he says, smoothly, as if he were commenting on the color of the sky. "That particular pair is a prototype meant to recharge themselves on their wearer's energy signature." He shrugs. "Until I devise a solution, they won't be going anywhere, unfortunately."
He looks down.
"You were sitting quietly on the floor, Commander," he says. One hand awkwardly pats blue armor. "Now hush. Sober Autobots are talking."
no subject
"Mock my ship on your own time, Perce. Right now I'm strapped to a commanding officer, somethin' I can honestly say would never happen to me, let alone by the Commander himself."
He felt his arm go down when Magnus sits, now able to place it on his hip.
"What do ya mean 'They weren't designed to come off'? What kind of moron designs em like that?"
He looks down at Magnus, letting Perceptor do the talking.
no subject
There's a moment of silence as the intoxicated mech peers at his own hands, as if investigating them.
Wait, Perceptor said something fairly important.
"They won't come off? That's terrible. That's a terrible way to design handcuffs. You're the worst enforcer ever, Perceptor."
no subject
Oh Primus, Magnus is off and rambling. He presses a hand to his face, willing something to end this moment. One of them to fall asleep. The handcuffs to spontaneously combust. Something.
But no. None of that happens. He's stuck with an alternate Ultra Magnus babbling drunkenly about the size of his blasted hands, and an upstart "Wrecker" -- to use the term loosely -- snapping at him.
Suddenly drinking sounded like a fantastic plan.
"They were designed," he says, a little heat in the words. "To contain the Glyphless when they began to go mad. I didn't occur to me we would want any of them freeing themselves, should they need restraints." And yes, he's aware of how well that ended. "I was making improvements for another problem, and..."
He just stares down at Magnus. "Fortunate then, I'm not an enforcer at all. I'm a scientist, and a pacifist."
Says the tank.
no subject
See: none.
But a hand does rise up and smack the back of Magnus's head. Sorry Commander, he won't apologize for that because you'll thank him later. It wasn't hard enough to knock him out, but enough to be very noticeable.
"So you didn't make fail-safes." Granted, Wheeljack hardly did that on his grenades either, but this was a scientist. "Yannow, in case ya got handcuffed by mistake." He holds up his own wrist in explanation.
"Don't tell me we gotta...'stick together'."
At least weld em out of this Percy, please.
no subject
CLANG happens after Wheeljack hits him in the back of the head. Fortunately, Ultra Magnus is far too dizzied to really throw a drunken fit about it or hit Wheeljack back.
On the other hand, he completely collapses to the floor. Not unconscious, but he's that far gone and in combination with the hit?
Yeah, have fun tumbling down, Wheeljack.
no subject
And then Ultra Magnus is on the floor. Perceptor doesn't have to have the intellect he does to see where this is going. So he steps back, allowing them room to... get comfortable, arms folded over his chest.
He can wait.
"... prototypes," he finishes, at length. "I left them on the prototypes."
no subject
That is...until Magnus decided to just flop on the floor like a dog who just gave up on life. That being said, Wheeljack was soon to follow, landing crudely on the larger bot, torso flopped over the opposite arm. His wings twice in minor annoyance, and if that wasn't obvious, it certainly showed on his face.
"...Kay. Where are the prototypes."
no subject
It seems, instinctively, pretty damn great to have someone else nearby.
Yeah, sorry Wheeljack, but he's throwing an arm around you and looks pretty ready to doze off.
no subject
And that was also the moment Magnus picked to begin getting comfy. Perceptor stopped once more, pausing long enough to regard what was certain to become an unhappy pile of Autobot in a few moments, before taking a measured step back.
Out of grabbing range, with any luck. He had no intention of becoming the top section of that mess, no thank you.
"I scrapped the prototypes ages ago. One working model seemed enough to go off of, not to mention hard copies of the design templates..."
In short? There are no prototypes.
"I'm afraid you'll ah... need to assume and maintain the position until I can determine the best way to remove them. Safely."
no subject
"Sparky! Down! Get ahold of yourself!"
There's some struggling, but not even Wheeljack can get through the wall of arm and fist. Magnus has a pretty tight hold on him. Not that he could really go anywhere anyway, but...
"I got a grenade."
no subject
The enforcer doesn't budge, the Wrecker's struggle all but meaningless. He hears grenade and his optics light back up and he gives him a serious scowl.
"No grenades." Ultra Magnus, despite his state, sounds very stern about that. "Not allowed."
no subject
"No grenades," he echoes. "You're not blowing up my lab after all the blasted work I put in."
He lifts a foot, prodding pointedly at Wheeljack's shoulder with his toe.
"Is it so much to ask that you simply sit tight until I can rework the system?"
no subject
Like he really hasn't gotten that one before.
"Well unless you goons got a better idea--"
When the scientist touches that shoulder, he looks down at it, then travels up to his face, a scowl firmly marked on his lips.
"Sit tight. Funny."
no subject
There isn't anything wrong with this, not according to him.
"Stop fighting," he mutters at both of them. "Tired of fighting. I'm tired."
Hope you don't mind being a teddy bear right at the moment, Wheeljack.
no subject
That said, he wastes little time in returning to his workbench. Though he does shoot the pair a... look as Magnus proceeds to use the more unruly Autobot as a pillow. Or cuddle opportunity. Something like that.
"Give me a day at least. Three at most. In the meantime, do try and relax. There's plenty of fuel and places to recharge in the lab. You needn't leave until we've resolved the issue."
That way no one has to know what happened here today.