Q:::I will try to locate one for you. Query. Barring a medic, is there anyone else you wish me to locate and inform of your dire situation?::
Hopefully that made any sort of sense. Abbreviating to her nickname probably didn’t help matters, but at least the anon’s been getting the gist of what he’s been saying, even in tridecimal.
Q:The anon doesn't immediately respond, unsure what to make of the vague response it got to it's inquiry. ::Query. Would you like me to fetch someone for you?::
He’d stayed online long enough to get the next message.
Not that he knows who. Not that he knows how the anon can help.
It’s the best he can do.
Look, his logic processors aren’t running at 25% right now, he’s at least TRYING to get help… by asking anons who offer tacos fo rhelp. Yeah that’s going to go so hot, Jack.
Q:::Query? Do you want Taco Bell?::
Wheeljack’s optics barely bother flickering online as he rouses to the ping this time.
And it’s something absurd.
But a stirring in the back of his processor reminds him that maybe instead of telling contacts to frag off in as base a language as he could manage, he should try asking for help instead.
So he just transmits his location, name, and serial number in tridecimal instead.
Go survival instincts, you beat down those lack of socialization skills.
Q:Bother bother bother
Thank you, anon. Wheeljack now knows his comms are still working, if barely.
You’ve also wasted his energy waking him up to check it. At best you’ll get a tridecimal “frag off”.
Broken wiring sparked until it fizzled out, arcs moving from frame to frame, skittering over plating and grounding in protoform or rock. The crash had knocked all three offline, but Broadside’s podfragment had onlined first. A simple tridecimal distress beacon repeated the location of the crash and last known inhabitants of the shuttle in the last Autobot encryption she’d used for communications
If she and her passengers were lucky, someone might even notice. The signal strength isn’t everything it could be, but between the rhythmic repetition of the short message and the somewhat-dated encryption, she could hope someone would pick it up.
Not that she could hope anymore. The podding process had shucked off her primary processors, despite not needing to split spark or protoform for multiple inhabitants. Either she’d die, and her crew with her, or she’d be raised once more to usefulness.
Wheeljack, for his part, was drifting in and out of stasis lock. He managed to shut down most of his systems in a particularly lucid period, stopping the worst of the sparking and conserving energon usage. Slagheap was ‘helping’ by keeping him mostly clean of spilled energon, despite a few broken limbs of his own.
If it kept him from chewing on him like the last several times something had happened? He didn’t mind. Still. His chronometer didn’t function anymore, and there was processor damage that limited his ability to stop the damage from getting any worse. He was lucky he could coordinate well enough to seal what he had. It’d taken several periods of lucidity to work it out.
OOC: I’m coming home? State of the Wrecker + Shuttle Headcanons
Before I do anything else in terms of rousing Wheeljack (again. hopefully this time without dropping his heavy aft), it’s headcanon time to explain how it’s happening.
[I have one pathetic last-ditch hope. Re-watch canon. Re-attain Wheeljack. Play the victim of another shuttle crash, like was planned. Like I did, and then erased because of reasons. At least there’s a reason he could technically be alive. Even if I’ve supposedly killed him.
[because some part of me doesn’t wantn to roll over and give up even though I already have.]
- Continental Sword with Gilt-Brass Hilt, dated late 18th/19th century
- Spanish Dragoon Sword, dated 1776
- Spanish Cup-Hilt Rapier, dated last quarter of the 17th century
- French Cavalry Sabre, dated late 18th century
- Composite English Cavalry Sword, dated circa 1780-90
- Spanish Bilbo Sword, dated 18th century
- Venetian Schiavona Sword, dated late 17th/early 18th century
- English Basket-hilted Backsword, dated last quarter of the 18th century
Source: Copyright 2014 © Thomas del Mar
[Despite my attempts to revive Wheeljack, he’s pretty dead in the water on me. I’m not sure he’ll ever come back right. :\]
- Dated: probably Shinto Period (1600-1764)
- Medium: steel, gold, silver, wood
- Measurements: 66.3 cm long
The sword comes with a soft metal fuchi and engraved kashira, gilded menuki while the iron tsuba presents silver inlays including a crescent moon. The katana has a chiseled silver habaki, a black saya with woodgrain lacquer and mounted en suite with the hilt. The mumei tang comes with a single hole, blade with active grain and billowing temperline in good polish.
Source: Copyright © 2014 Auction Flex
Q:I love you. But you know that darlin.
I love you too, Drift. Which is why after cuddles I’m going to massage your doors until you purr yourself to sleep
or something else, entirely up to you. Mostly after the purring.
Q:And kisses too. I want those as well.
And kisses. Short, long, whatever you want.
Just don’t tell anyone I’m being cute.