kismet_loop | AUDIO POST

Entry tags:

AUDIO POST

Hey! Excuse me! Anyone on this line?

[This voice sounds... like you are talking to Guyman himself. Musical and modulated, and kind of sort of loud]

Since when did Cybertron have grass? Or... y'know still be here? The fact that it's still... I mean that it's not... y'know really... dead and stuff is sort of-

NO REALLY WHY IS THERE GRASS HERE?

[He sounds pretty disturbed by this]

Not that grass is bad! I like grass, it was great on earth, if... y'know anyone here has been there at all, but like- Is that a farm? ... There's a tiny farm he- Did anyone see the tiny farm? Oh my god, I have to get a picture of this no wait, hold on.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Heh, I've worked hard for that reputation.

[It's mostly a joke. "Helpful" is a trait he was sparked with, many times to his own detriment, but be that as it may.]

[He looks back up at the other mech, noting the Decepticon brand...which is the wrong color. Huh. Kid seems nice, though...and talks like Bluestreak used to. The thought warms his spark a bit. He waves a hand dismissively.]

No "sir". Just Wheeljack's fine. An' yeah, probably, considerin' I designed an' build the things. What kinds'a modifications ya thinkin'?

Oh! Okay, uh... Wheeljack alright! Ha ha-

Well I wanted to... y'know reskin them. Make them look cool. Y'know biolights on them, different colors, improve the camera quality on mine...

I know. [Sam grins, giving Wheeljack's palm an appreciative pat-pat.] And may have given testimonials too, just sayin'.

[The modded Polaris is, after all, a really sweet ride. And then there's the theatre...]

[Wheeljack bumps her shoulder softly with the knuckle of one finger, obviously very comfortable with and around humans.]

You're too kind, Sam.

But anyway, yeah. I make 'em kinda bland an' uniform because so many are made, but anyone who wants ta personalize theirs is certainly welcome ta do so. You an engineer, pal?

Uh n-n-no. No I was the tech guy on the ship, actually. I uh.. did... y'know the tech work. Programming computers and guiding the ship.

[He still doesn't want to say his name. He's pretty convinced all the niceness will go away the moment he says his name]

[She snorts, amused and unconvinced, and as clearly unbothered by the bump. If they were the same size---or nearer---she'd subject the engineer to a little friendly elbowing.]

I just say it as I see it.

[He glances down at her with a quick nod before refocusing on the other mech.]

Relax, pal. I don't bite. Besides, you're the one wearin' the Deceptibrand, not me. Or they gotcha that badly whipped? It's okay. You're safe here. People here look out for each other - we're all we've got - an' the faction war doesn't exist here. Autobots'll leave ya alone if they're worth their brand, an' none'a your buddies'll be allowed ta hassle ya either.

[Not what Soundwave's expecting, but Jack doesn't know that. Also, Sounders'll be in for a surprise when the old mech finally learns his name, but it won't be the one he thinks it is.]

No! I mean... No I mean the Wheeljack I know would have... I mean like-

I heard stories of Wheeljack and he's... Not you apparently but he's not the... nicest Autobot... around. Well none of them are nice, but he's kind of a former Wrecker and... The less I say the better.

[Even though Soundwave undoubtedly has whole millennia on her, Sam can't help thinking poor kid at 'and... The less I say the better.' Everybody's been there at some point, and besides; however old he actually is, the mech seems like he's around her own age. She keeps quiet so as to avoid interrupting any answer, but offers Soundwave a sympathetic smile.]

A Wrecker? There’s a me out there somewhere who was a Wrecker? Heh, yeah, definitely not me. I can’t speak for mechs in other realities, but if it makes ya feel any better, this Wheeljack - [He thumbs at himself.] - would hurt himself before he managed ta hurt anyone else if he tried ta be a Wrecker. [He shakes his head.] Those mechs are more’n a little crazy.

Anyway . . . ya wanna come in an’ we’ll see what I might have for ya?

He had swords with him all the time too and like a million grenades. He strapped one to Laserbeak once but Knock Out managed to deactivate it.

[He lingers around the entrance for another moment, before exhaling shakily]

Y-yeah! Yeah sure no... no problem.

[And he slowly headed in, tense and nervous]

[It would be nice to ask after a little more information on the Wreckers, but that's something to do another time---when no-one is just new or nervous. So, Sam settles.]

Yeah, definitely no swords for me. I lose limbs enough as it is. [And by that, he means in accidents in his own workshop, mostly, but hey.]

[The engineer leads the way into an expansive lab and workshop, with backless shelving units creating a suggestion of individual workspaces around a multitude of tables and workbenches, all of which sport projects in various stages of development or maintenance and all manner of natures, from drones to weapons to who-knew-what. There was a sense of chaos that, for all its haphazardness, seemed almost inviting. 'Come explore, come discover, come play!' Wheeljack will carry Sam and lead his new guest in and around to the left, to where he keeps all the stuff he's collected that he hasn't really decided what to do with. Hey . . . the Warehouse has an impressive, seemingly endless supply of everything ever, but as the inventor who built and maintains the drones who in turn catalog and maintain the Warehouse, who do you think gets first dibs on whatever the Miasma deposits around Haven?]

Wellp, have at, pal. An' if I don't have somethin' you're lookin' for, let me know what it is, an' we can go see if it's in the Warehouse somewhere . . . uh . . . didn't catch your name, by the way.

Uh, apparently there's a crabby dragon blocking the warehouse.

[Dirge, he means]

Okay I'm gonna tell you, but you better not... stab me or something, okay?

I'm Soundwave.

['I lose limbs enough as it is' summons up the image of a mechanical arm dragging itself across the floor and then out of sight under something, but that, too, is something to share later. The opinion Sam shares now...?]

Wow.

[Talk about gadgets and gizmos a-plenty/whosits and whatsits galore; that's a lot of stuff---but not enough Sam doesn't look up as 'stabbing' is tossed onto the table.]

Huh? What's Rathan doin' at the Warehouse?

[Oops, he thinks you mean Haven's ACTUAL crabby dragon. As for the rest, the real reaction is belated and...almost comical.]

Soundwave, nice ta mee-wait, S-soundwave!?

[He'd started to offer his hand, but then /flinches/ back in an instant of near-panic, the name coming out a squeak, and he's wrapping his free hand around the front of Sam, instinctively shielding her against himself. Old habits die hard . . . old reactions die even harder. B-but he forces himself to stop and take stock again in the next instant - the radically different build, the personality, the "wrong" colored brand, things the mech's said about /him/ . . . finally he nods, forcibly rolling the tension from his shoulders as he lowers the hand covering Sam.]

I mean . . . Soundwave . . . right. Heh, tell ya what - you promise not ta torture or mind-rape me and I'll promise not ta stab ya or somethin'. Deal?

[He tries to make it a joke - he really does - but...there's some obvious experience in his optics and buried under his lighthearted tone.]

[And Soundwave flinches back, the sudden movement scared him, and almost stumbles back amongst everything else in the shop. He wasn't used to that kind of reaction towards him, simply because when everyone else heard his name they just... laughed.

No one really explained why he was so different, just that this other Soundwave was 'creepy' and 'good at his job', and he was almost capable of overlooking creepy to be jealous that someone could get the level of respect he kept seeing from everyone else but-

Mind raped and tortured-]

I wouldn't do that!

[Sounded a lot more horrified when he was on the other side of that]

[The hand coming up around her isn't half so startling as the flare of alarm off each bot---the one-two leaves Sam knuckling at first one eye and then the other as Wheeljack's hand moves away.]

[Wheeljack notes the surprise and horror in the other mech. It's . . . kind of good to see, actually, not that he'd ever /want/ to upset someone so. But it gives that much more weight to the assertion. He's still regathering his own wits when he glances down to check on Sam and sees her rubbing at her eyes.]

Oh! Sorry, Sam . . . you okay?

[He's still not confident enough to leap to her rescue, but he does edge in a little closer, looking deeply concerned]

Don't move too fast!

I'm fine, guys, just fine! Honest.

[She holds up her hands in assurance, caught off-guard by their concern---rubbing at her eyes had been an almost automatic action.]

[It'd been more the look on her face than the gesture. And the fact that Wheeljack had reacted without thinking and had wanted to make sure /he'd/ not hurt her by mistake.]

Okay…good…

Um, so . . . anyway, Soundwave . . . like I said, you're welcome ta anythin' in here. An' . . . maybe you'd be willin' ta sit down sometime an' tell me about your reality? I'd tell ya about mine too if you'd be interested.

[Because he had a strong suspicion that such a conversation would be…intriguing…to say the least. Likely for /both/ of them.]

Um... y-yeah. Yeah okay yeah. That'd be cool. I could tell you about home.

[Sam pats at the engineer's palm, as it's one of the few reassuring gestures she can offer from his hand.]

...I'd toss an offer up, but.

[it's just a couple decades' 'meanwhile in Canada']

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

AUDIO POST

Sorry...been hella sick, therefore slow tagging x,x

shhh sokay bb

and then I didn't see the notif

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Ouch, sorry...thought I'd replied orz

lol sokay

all good