stupid handcuff shenanigans

[thehardway]

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 Really, he tends to be more silent, more withdrawn, and detached; he doesn't let anything show if it upsets him.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.

Comments

[thehardway]

They're probably talking about something fairly important, his mind determines. Yet, the longer that he's here on the floor, the harder it is to be able to pay attention. He's vaguely aware of the partial weight on him, but it doesn't really bother him.

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.

[sciencetank]

"That's the trouble..."

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."

[wheeljackofalltrades]

Wheeljack's rolls on his back, his arms going up, as if to say 'WELL OF COURSE'. Of course the prototypes would be gone. They fall back down as he stares up at Perceptor from the floor, only to--oh hey, that certainly is Magnus's arm around him.

"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."

[thehardway]

"I am down," is muttered tiredly, in very much of a duh, Wheeljack, we're both down here tone of voice. If you could get that from him, in any case.

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."

[sciencetank]

Anyone else may have considered the scene at their feet to be... cute. Or endearing, in a way. Perceptor couldn't help but regard it as a terrible nuisance. Of all the places, Magnus had to lie on the floor.

"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?"

[wheeljackofalltrades]

Right, Perceptor. Your life is just SO ROUGH right now. Let Wheeljack play the invisible violin to truly reinforce the turmoil you're feeling. The Wrecker's optics cast to the side, looking at Magnus as he babbles on, pretty unphased by the 'no grenades' speech.

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."

[thehardway]

Meanwhile, in the drunken land of enforcers, Ultra Magnus seems fine with getting cozy where he is. He's fine and dandy with holding onto Wheeljack, welcoming his presence silently.

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.

[sciencetank]

"I'm going to work on the problem. Rest assured. I've little desire to play sitter to the pair of you, and Smokescreen, thank you."

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.