2016-07-08 Bubble Buddies
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|2016-07-08 Bubble Buddies|
|Location||Lost Light - Docks and Storage - Armory|
|Summary||This bubble just won't pop.|
The ship's munitions storage contains all the weaponry that Whirl's heart could desire. Brainstorm's latest projects are given space of their own (and shielding sufficient to prevent disaster from blowing out the bottom of the ship). Everywhere there are cautions: no guns should be discharged in this room. Grab a gun, and take it somewhere else.
Wheeljack has turned a lot more attention to his force field project in the past few days. It's the project that interests him most at the moment, though he's still working on various requests from other members of the crew. It's also the project that's closest to done, and he's looking forward to having something to hand off to the crew for use. He has a bit more refining to do, but all in all his force field belts are functioning as he intends.
Most of what's left is to test the utility of the force fields, and that's what brings him down to the Armory today. A defense field isn't any good if it can't defend against weapons, which means that Wheeljack is standing in the middle of the Armory, staring down a rack of typical guns, one hand on his hip and the other holding a force field belt as he contemplates which ones he should be using now. His fins are dark for once as he contemplates the problem, and all his focus is on the rack in front of him.
Blackstorm has absolutely no reason to be here; although, that isn't entirely clear by the way he swaggers into the room like he owns the space. The minibot pretends to gaze at the different weapons, a thoughtful glimmer in his optic, even though several of them are comically larger than him. Honestly, Blackstorm is more of a runner than a fighter. But he'd been trying to track down Wheeljack for days, and this is the first hint he had of his location.
Turning on his heel, he pretends to be surprised to see Wheeljack there. "Fancy meeting you here!" he says. "How's that project of yours coming? And I'm happy to report that me and floor have made amends. I'm feeling as dazzling as ever."
Wheeljack jumps in surprise at the sound, and he spins around as one hand flies up to his chestplate in what looks like an awkward attempt to cover his spark chamber. He stops as he sees the small mech standing behind him, his startled stance drooping as he recognizes the mech beyond the Dececpticon emblem. "Blackstorm!" he says, his fins brightening as he speaks. "You startled me." He shakes his helm, before looking Blackstorm over. "You're looking better! A lot less pancake." Don't bother asking what a pancake is, he's already been distracted. "Project's coming along! I'm kind of working on it right now, actually. Why," he asks, amused. "You feel like taking another test drive?"
<FS3> Blackstorm rolls Spending: Success. (2 8 4 2)
Blackstorm preens a little when Wheeljack startles. "That's me, the sparkstopper," he jokes. As he has not replaced his visor, Wheeljack gets to be privy to the Decepticon's wink. Poor Wheeljack.
With little effort on Blackstorm's part, though, Wheeljack gets right onto the topic that the pilot is hoping to broach. Blackstorm claps his hands together enthusiastically at Wheeljack's suggestion. Although, he has a little something more in mind, too. "If it would be half as fun as last time, I'm sold," he says. "Speaking of that, you wouldn't happen to have any of the prior prototypes lying around, would you? Since they're not optimal anyways... Well, I was curious. It would be nice to have for a bit of sport when we land. Not on the ship itself of course."
Sell him unapproved weaponry just for his kicks, Wheeljack. Do it. He hasn't hinted at credits yet, waiting to gauge the Autobot's reaction, but he's ready.
"I could do with a little less sparkstopping," Wheeljack says, finally lowering his hand from his chest, though his fins are flashing with enough good humor to make it obvious that he isn't about to hold it against Blackstorm. "It's a good thing I wasn't in my lab, or I might have knocked over something important."
Wheeljack has to take a moment to think through his work on this project. "Prototypes? It's possible, but I'd have to check... Some of them, ah, don't last past testing," aka melt, explode, or meet some other unfortunate end, "And some of them get reused. I might have one of the smaller models, I'd have to check... It'd probably have to stay in my lab until then, though. Wouldn't want someone accidentally punching a hole in the ship or something!"
Wheeljack apparently has a modicum of caution. Only a modicum, however, because he doesn't seem to mind Blackstorm touching his work after his near escape last time. "It might be half as fun," Wheeljack says. "Actually, there's probably something we can test in here."
Blackstorm offers a bright grin to Wheeljack. That is the best news he has heard all day! While it is not a definitive yes, he has hope that he might be rolling wildly through alien landscapes soon enough. He can recharge content. "Well, I think if you knock over some of these weapons it might speed up your sparkbeat a bit, yeah?" he jokes. "If I don't achieve that first. I'm told I'm good at that, too."
"And let me know if you find a prototype. Also, if you do, how you prefer to be, ah, compensated," he adds as an afterthought. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge. "In the meantime, what did you have in mind?"
Leaning around a rather large weapon blocking his view, he tries to see what Wheeljack has in his hands.
"Compen--" if the bright flash of Wheeljack's fins is any indication, he wasn't actually expecting that to be brought up. "I mean... I guess if you find something interesting, bring it to me? And if it breaks, help me find parts?" He shrugs. "I'm making things for the ship, so if they get used, it means I'm doing my job right." And having fun with it, too, so it seems like a win-win scenario for him.
Wheeljack is still busy thinking about this, so when Blackstorm leans in to see what Wheeljack's holding, he should have a good chance. There's no big box of materials like Wheeljack was carrying last time. Instead, he just has a small pile of scrap metal. "It shouldn't be anything to knock over supplies in here," he says, glancing toward the Brainstorm Specials section. "There's some things here I don't want to combine with force fields. What we do want is to see if there are any physical materials, metals or other things used on the battlefield, that have nullifying effects on the forcefield. Especially if they get caught inside."
Blackstorm lets out a low whistle. That is a whole lot of words; while he is not incapable of understanding them, he would much rather see it translated to reality. Besides, what harm could they do with a pile of scrap metal? Might as well just get right down to it. "Right, bring you something interesting. Mind if I ask what you find interesting, though, mecha? That helps."
Whatever it is, he can likely get his hands on it. Of course, the items that Blackstorm have on his brain module are probably varying levels of illegal. Trading narcotics and other substances is common practice in his circle.
That done, the small mecha strides to the middle of the room and throws his arms out in a gesture of enthusiasm. "Alrighty, then. Let's get down to that fun. Bubble me up, Scotty."
"Oh, anything that looks like it's different. Metals, paint coatings, whatever," Wheeljack says, waving a hand. "I've already tested usual pure metals and some combinations on it, but if there's anything we've been creative about in the past few millenia, it's weapons design." As evidenced by the Brainstorm section that Wheeljack is currently doing his best to ignore.
Once they've collected a number of weird-looking guns that Wheeljack deems appropriate. "Aye, Captain!" he laughs, handing the force field generator off to Blackstorm. "Now, nothing too crazy should happen, but be prepared to land! Or to ricochet if there's a repulsive reaction."
Blackstorm reaches to take out the forcefield generator, a look of bemusement flashing across his optics. "Metals and paint coatings?" he repeats. "You got yourself a delivery mecha. I can get you all the paint coatings you desire, and a smile with each drop-off to boot. No one can say I provide shoddy service."
It is just beginning to dawn on Blackstorm that Wheeljack isn't going to ask for anything illegally. He idly wonders if it is because there might be security cameras monitoring this angle. His gaze scans the walls, and then he shrugs. Or Wheeljack might just be that cute. That's right, he considers being a good citizen as cute. He's not used to this 'ordinary life' or 'living straight' thing.
"Be ready to strike a pose? Understood. Just tell me when to hit the button, Wheeljack. I assume it's the same button, right?"
<FS3> Wheeljack rolls Chemistry: Great Success. (7 8 4 4 7 8 2 5 2 4)
"Yep, same button," Wheeljack says, somewhat distracted by the set of weapons they've amassed. He'll wait until Blackstorm is safely enbubbled before he picks up the first weapon. "So basically what we're doing is figuring out if any of these weapons have special chemical properties that make them especially effective against the force field. So we're going to test that through the very scientific method of hitting the force field with the side of the gun," he says with a laugh. "If you want to switch off after the first one, we can do that!"
Hopefully Blackstorm is braced, though, because Wheeljack's slamming the butt of the first gun into the side of the force field. He must have done something right with the force field, because it wobbles and will roll if Blackstorm lets it, but doesn't give way. With that reassurance, Blackstorm nods and presses the button. Pop! A moment later, he is safely inside. Unlike before, he is careful not to roll away (although he wishes he could) and watches Wheeljack with expectant optics. It isn't long before the scientist gets down to work. "Oh, so we're hitting things?" Blackstorm asks as he knocks the side of the gun against the force field.
Blackstorm lets it wobble a tiny bit, just for the fun, before he throws his helm back and laughs. "I'll be honest. This isn't the way I'm used to mecha hitting on me."
With the first weapon out of the way, his gaze turns to the rest of the pile. "But I'm not complaining. Keep them coming."
"At least this is memorable!" Wheeljack laughs as he sets their first one safely aside, then makes a brief note on a datapad before staring at the pile. After a moment of staring at them, he shuffles a few more to the side and finally picks up one more. "You'll have to give me some slack here, I'm not used to hitting mechs myself," he says, then hefts the next one.
The blow against the force field is a little more solid, but again the force field doesn't so much as flicker even as it rolls back.
"... That doesn't surprise me, actually," Blackstorm remarks, trying to hold back a chuckle. He's also beginning to realize that his teasing is going right over Wheeljack's helm. This one is just too amusing and cute for his own good. Thankfully, Blackstorm is content to let it remain that way. He's not the kind to educate without being asked, and Wheeljack's company is proving more than enough for him. "But that's okay. You're welcome to slam into me all night if you want."
... Not that that means he'll stop being a playful little slagger, though. Some things never change.
This time, the flirting manages to get a puzzled and slightly suspicious look from Wheeljack, who glances up from his datapad to stare at Blackstorm before he turns his attention back to his notes. "Well, that's good, because we've got plenty more of these to test," he says, apparently back to being completely oblivious of what Blackstorm's doing here.
They manage to get through a good section of the pile with only a few mishaps allowing for faceplants, before Wheeljack eventually calls things off. "We've got some good data now!" he says, fins flashing cheerfully. "You can come down out of that, if you'd like. We should probably wrap up and put these back... Thanks for your help!"
Blackstorm looks at him with bright, eager optics. What, Wheeljack? Certainly this tiny guy couldn't mean anything too untoward by it. Besides, look how happy he is just getting used as a battering ram. Blackstorm's standards of fun are pretty low. He's having the most fun time right now anyone can imagine. "I'm glad! Bring it on," he announces.
Once all is said and done, the tiny mecha reluctantly offlines the forcefield and offers it back out to Wheeljack. "Anytime, mecha. I'm always glad to get a few new paint scrapes in the name of science. And you'll be hearing back from me soon, yeah? I owe you some scraps of paint coatings still."
Wheeljack is putting some of the materials they borrowed back in place, but he spares the time to nod to Blackstorm, his fins lit cheerfully. "I'll give you a call if I have a project that needs testing," he offers. "And you can come stop by my lab if you need a project or another done! I'm not the think machine with weapons that Brainstorm is, but I've got plenty of other projects. And I'll see about getting you one of those prototypes!"