Wheeljack is hilariously tiny compared to Ultra Magnus.
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@explosive-wrecker
Wheeljack is hilariously tiny compared to Ultra Magnus.
*Loud staring*
maverickgrenadier:
He smiled, he couldn’t help it…if there’s one thing he took pride in outside of his skills in the cockpit, it was his inventions. He pulled out a small projector from his subspace and turned it on, revealing schematics in Kaonese for his first model of the miniature space bridge he invented. “So long as you remain mute on what I show you, nobody needs to know of your additional field of expertise. This is one of my prized inventions, if not my finest accomplishment. A space bridge, small enough to be mounted on a fighter and even suitable for a warship like the Nemesis.”
He hit another button to turn off the projector after a few more moments and stashed it, withdrawing a canister of green energon and held it up.. “This came before that. Weapons grade Synthetic Energon, made by yours truly. Ammunition for fighters, explosive compound material, fuel for fighters and shuttles, suitable for things like that. This would probably kill you medically speaking, energy coefficient double that of high grade.” Wheeljack chuckled, “That’s not counting four fighters I’ve built myself.”
Surprise. That had been the very first thing that the engineer had felt, optics scanning over the schematics and soaking it in as quickly as he could. “This is brilliant,” he praised, genuinely and with excitement. Little winglets were twitching too. It was embarrassing, if Wheeljack had noticed it at all. “Have you built it yet? Given it a test run? Do you think I could get a copy? I mean, it would really help with the whole--see we’re working with colonies right now, particularly Velocitron. It would make getting supplies and people to those colonies much easier.”
A pause and he tilted his helm, thoughtful. “Hey, you got yourself a lab?” He absently rubbed a servo over a helmfin, looking a bit embarrassed. “I mean, mine’s not much, but if you need a place to... like crash or tinker... you can always stop it. the ‘bots don’t know about it... well, I think Mags has an idea but..”
*Loud staring*
maverickgrenadier:
“A fancy certified alternate! How about that!” He couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “You also recognize my language, something to your credit, as well as knowing a bit of my home. Medicine too? I must admit, you have more of an education than I. I was an engineer, self taught aerospace engineer, and a scientist. I…have a couple amazing inventions to my credit. I don’t want to show up my alternate, unless…” Wheeljack smirked, “you want to compare credentials.”
“Ah, yeah. I... nobody knows, not really. So let’s keep it between you and me, alright? Last thing I need is to give ‘em more ammo to use against me. Ya know how it is.. probably.” Another shrug, he grinned a ghost of one, “and I picked it up. Whirl used to say my accent was horrific, so I’ll save you the cringe and not give it a try.”
He perked up suddenly at the mention of his alternate’s inventions, absently moving forward and gesturing with a servo, “show off what you got. I’d like to see it, compare notes. Could show you a couple of things too. Alternate to alternate.”
*Loud staring*
maverickgrenadier:
“Yesli vy iz Kaona, kak ya, i vy proshli cherez to, chto u menya yest’, vy poymete, pochemu.“ He enjoyed speaking his native language. It rolled off the glossa for him. “Proshche govorya, s nami plokho obrashchalis’, i ya ne khotel predavat’ svoikh lyudey.”
“No, not from Kaon--spent time there before I got into the academy in Iacon though. And it was an... interesting place to pick up some odd jobs for shanix. Nobody asked questions and nobody cared how you got the job done, as long as it was done.” He shrugged then, “engineering isn’t exactly like medicine but... if it works, it works, right?”
*Loud staring*
maverickgrenadier:
“Even if the other you you’re talking to is a Decepticon? Maybe I had a bad encounter with another alternate that makes me…suspicious. Though I do share the sentiment.”
“Not sure if I like the idea that I’d turn ‘con, but frag--war’s over, who cares anymore. You don’t hurt my people, we’re cool. Besides, one of my pals is a ‘con. Was a ‘con, I guess. It’s complicated. Multiverse stuff.”
*Loud staring*
“Careful where you point those things. I prefer not having my face scratched.”
“Aw, c’mon. Where’s the fun in careful? ‘Sides, I wouldn’t hurt me--another me. That would be pretty counterproductive.”
*Loud staring*
Bastille - Things We Lost In The Fire
«quit harassing your boss.»
«make me.»
Primus, he was calling his frame cute and his blush precious. That made the commander turn his helm away for a moment. He needed to keep his wits about him. He always had to around Wheeljack. Finally he looked back and spoke to him.
“I will have you know I am almost considered fat for my frame type. If you want a mech with a small waist, go speak to Optimus–” Magnus paused. “–…actually, I would rather you just did not. And that is besides the point–I’m the commander of the Wreckers, I am supposed to be the Authority figure here. Again. Go. Get. Cleaned.”
His digits twitched and his grin faded for a split-second, then it came back full force. He tested his luck, stepping forward with his servos back on his hips and helm tilted to one side.
“You’re not fat and if I wanted to flirt with Optimus, I’d flirt with Optimus. But Mags, Sir, I don’t and I’m not. I am flirting and speaking with--” Wheeljack made a point to raise a servo, extending a digit and tapping it against the Commander’s plating, “--you.”
He then dropped the servo, flashed another smile. He stepped backwards then turned full bodily away from Magnus. “And hey, again--make me,” he added, winglets twitching.
“Honestly, Wheeljack…” Magnus just sighed and shook his helm. Primus he felt like he walked into this, though. “You stink, go clean before I tell the other Wreckers you have been flirting with me.”
“Go ahead. What are they gonna do? Judge me for flirting? Think I’m trying to sleep my way to the top? Oh no. The horror.” His optics near rolled out of his helm at this point. He’s still grinning though.
“Besides, they wouldn’t blame me. You’ve got that whole alluring air of authority and cute waist thing going on. And you blush. That’s fragging precious.”
⚖|| Magnus grunted and shook his helm. “I’m sure your frame is very alluring…but I’m here to get you cleaned off.” Magnus spoke and pointed a bit. “…you’ve made it nearly impossible for me to pick you up however. You will need to walk to the wash racks…”
“Here to get me cleaned off? Oh!” Servos move from his hips, a certain brightness to his optics. “Gonna give me a good wash and polish, Mags? Didn’t know you were into that. Certainly something I could walk to the wash racks for. Lead the way, big guy.”
commanderultramango:
⚖|| Magnus huffed and blushed a little. “No, that is not it in the least, and if you think that will sway me from ensuring you are cleaned, you are mistaken.” He talked a big game. But he was still blushing at the comments.
“Aw, c’mon, boss. You’re blushing. Embarrassed? Don’t be, you wouldn’t be the first ‘bot that wanted to see me down to my protoform. Covered from helm to pedes in cleanser, water gleaming on plating--the whole deal.”
Winglets twitched, raising. Amusement. “But hey,” a pause, he leaned forward and up, “let’s go, big guy. Carry me off to the showers. I’d give you a good show.”
commanderultramango:
⚖|| Magnus seemed to grin. As if he was challenged, almost. “Its not about the waist, it is all in the footing, Soldier.”
Cue the engineer attempting backpedal. “Look, I’m an engineer--I know things. Like even with good footing, you could tip over. Or drop me. And you’re pretty tall, boss. You drop me on my head and I’m out.”
Then a flash of mischief. A grin of his own with his servos rested on his hips, chassis puffed out. “Unless... you’re hoping to fall with me, land in an interesting position. Are you a covert pervert? Is that why you’re so interested in getting me in the shower?”
A whistle, “commander, sir, I’m shocked.”
commanderultramango:
“Please don’t make me carry you…” Magnus doesn’t want to make a scene.
“You wouldn’t.” Wheeljack doesn’t sound as certain as he had before. “You got that weird tiny waist. You’d tip over.”
alpha113n-redshirt-eradicon:
If you want me to~
You wash my wings, I wash your winglets? Hmmm~? ;)
“Now you wait a minute, kid. You gotta earn winglet touches. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”
commanderultramango replied to your post: “So I came to a realization today. I’m kind of a...
“Go take a shower…you’re dirty.”
“Make. Me.”