Ep. 2 - A Mute and a Deaf Guy walk into a Bar - [Closed]

[Carbine]

Episode 2 | Week 1 | Day 6

The Omega Outpost was almost always in a state of construction or repair, which was obnoxious in a way. They, as in the Autobots as a whole, had fallen so far down from the tier they had once stood, that these meager accommodations were almost insulting in a way ((at least to Carbine)). But alas... it worked... it functioned TECHNICALLY. It just didn’t have the sheen and cleaner edge to it that true Cybertronian ships and buildings tended to have. Instead they were gifted by exposed pipes and large chunks of raw stone in areas that acted as walls. It was actually in one of the unfinished more rough sections of the base that Carbine would find himself this day.

The room was large, half of it being part human construction, the slick refined walls and epoxy floor from the original silo's function, while the other side and the upper half of the room was clawed and carved out of the mountain, leaving grey and red rock that was roughed out just barely good enough. The ceiling held lights that were strung upon bolted hooks, and the ventilation pipes that lead to the area were cut off and short, unfinished.

The room would probably never get completed. It was located on the underground level, distant from the main facility, with an intended goal of being for storage. That meant that it didn’t have to be nice, it just had to function well enough to keep the contents safe and categorized. This sadly meant though that there needed to be things to actually store said stuff on.

Hence where Carbine came into play.

Normally the ex-cop excelled and rather enjoyed being on time to an appointment, clinging to that bit of professionalism left over from his cop days. It made him feel reliable, while also appeasing the near neurotic DESIRE to not be the last one to arrive. This typically led for him to show up early, but this time? That wasn't the case. Today, he would only arrive just on time, not late, not early, only the moment he was meant to be there because this job was going to suck.

The helicopter stalked into the room, his shoulders sloping down, and arms hanging slack from their sockets as if they were disconnected entirely. His entire posture screamed of mopey disappointment in the task, his field rippling around him in mild disdain. He supposed he should try to look at the bright side; he should try to just accept that this was something that had to be done, and he would get to meet someone he's never really interacted with before.

Oh sure, he knew Bumblebee, he has seen him around, knew of his 'defect' or 'injury' or whatever the PC wussy term would be for it. He just had never spent time with the mech, who seemed to already be in the room, sitting on the floor clawing through the pallets of metal beams and brackets.

"Oh man, let's get this ͏sl̴a̷g͘ ̢r̀oll̡in͠g, I got places to k̷z̴͡z͏͟t̷-do and people to k̛z̛̕͡z̨̨̕t͢-be."

[Bumblebee]

Bumblebee hated this room. It was dark and dreary, unfinished, and not very fun. It was too quiet, aside from the occasional hiss and rattle from the exposed ventilation pipes, which seemed to echo a lot louder than needed due to the raw stone that made up half the walls in here.

He didn't come down here unless he really had to.. and today he really had to. A job was a job, and who was he to question an order? This would benefit the Autobots - they needed storage badly, and how hard could it be, right? It was just building stuff. He'd built many things in the past and never had any issue...

...Okay, so most of his recent building experience as of late had been with those weird Lego things Raf brought over that one time. They were fiddly and way too small for Bee, but he'd built an amazing tower and a house! This would be just the same!

So sure of himself and his amazing building abilities, he'd gone down to the room about thirty minutes earlier than he was supposed to. He could do this by himself, surely. He'd get this done, finished, and have the afternoon free.

So when he got down there and saw the sheer amount of metal beams, brackets and parts that he had to work with? He was beyond baffled. Where to even start. He had to at least do something since he'd come down here so early. He wasn't sure who else had been assigned to the task of building the storage units, but Bee didn't want whoever it was to think he was some kind of slacker.

Optics adjusting to the dim light, hands shifting to his hips as he just stood. And stared at the pallets. Door wings drooping somewhat as he hummed in thought. Still, he stared. Thinking... Thiiiiiinking...

...

Ah-ha!

If he started to organize things, maybe this would be easier. Maybe he'd find somewhere to even start with this. Maybe it would click. Too stubborn to wait for whoever it was that was coming down to help, he set to work. He moved over to one of the pallets, sitting down. Quietly humming to himself just for some kind of background noise, the silence in here was deafening.

–-...Hello...--
...Hello...

Eheh. It echoed.

Bumblebee made quick work in pulling some of the heavy beams and brackets off one of the pallets – something he'd quickly regret as he was now surrounded by the things, and, well.. It still hadn't given him a clue of where to even start. All he'd done was make a mess. Good start, Bee.

--This is boring--
This is boring

He was so easily amused. Distracted by his own echoing voice, and the beams that surrounded him, he'd failed to notice the instructions on one of the other pallets on how to even build the thing. Nor had he noticed the sulking, mopey helicopter as he made his way into the room. Had time really gone that fast? It had.

To Carbine, Bumblebee must've looked like a toddler playing with toys in a bath. One hand held a small bracket, the other pulling random pieces off the pallet, surrounded by Primus knows how many other parts. When Carbine spoke, Bumblebee jumped some, door wings shifting up, alert. The silence interrupted by a voice, and he turned quickly to peer at whoever it was, optics widening some. Did Carbine mess up the end of that sentence..? It took Bee a second to process. Bumblebee thought he had, but he knew better than to call someone out, especially when he himself suffered from a.. Uh.. Slight speech impediment. He'd let it go. Carry on!

Ah. Carbine. Carbine. So this is who he had the pleasure of working with. This would be fun. He'd heard of this guy. Seen him around, but mostly heard. They hadn't interacted much and all he knew was the Carbine was kinda' an ass. Still, he wanted to make a good first impression.

--One step ahead of ya. As ya can see, I already started.--

Well he'd started something alright. He pulled himself up to his feet, turning to face the other Mech. There was a clatter as the parts around Bee shifted with his movements. He thumbed over his shoulder toward the palettes, peering up at the much-taller Carbine.

--So uuh. Ya got any idea how to build this stuff?--

[Carbine]

And 'started' he was.

Carbine could only look down upon the sea of parts that were seemingly thrown out all over the place. There was some kind of pattern to it all, it wasn't COMPLETE chaos, but at the same time there were a lot of parts in separate areas that looked really similar. A pile of beams, another pile of beams with a weird connector at the top, shorter beams, more beams, a handful of little foldy piece things, tiny little short... beams... Carbine really didn't know what exactly he was looking at, it all looked the same save for the flat panels that would make up the shelf portion of it all. The rest? Was a mess, and his optics narrowed a bit skeptically.

"Started making a ̴me͟s̸s? P-pit yeah..."

The ex-cop groaned this out, his shoulders somehow managing to slump down even further along with the rotors on his back. It was as if the gravity levels in the room had suddenly amped up to impossibly high standards, making every panel and plate sag down in its hinges and connectors in dismay. However, he knew he couldn't mope in the doorway forever, so he continued to stride into the room, the stride almost a drunken stumble.

Disproportionally long legs made it that Carbine didn’t take long at all despite his sulking in order to cross the distance to the mess that had been made. Carefully, he stepped over one of the rod piles, and approached Bumblebee and the pallets, eying over everything with a critical gaze. Once he was close enough to not be looming, he finally stopped, and nudged a foot forward to poke the sharper tip against one of the oversize posts.

It didn't take hardly anything for the pipe to wobble free from its previous resting place, causing it to clank to the concrete below. After the initial impact, it then began a leisurely roll across the smoother concrete in an attempt to escape from the two of them, Carbine making no effort to stop its adventure before it sluggishly ran into a pile of bolts that acted as a stopper.

"I ha̢ve absolutely NO cl-cl͡-c͞-hint..."

Finally pulling his gaze off from the escaped pipe, he peered back at Bumblebee, only to then stare at the ground around his feet as if he expected to see the instructions right in front of the bot's face. He seemed almost further disappointed that he wasn't able to just point at a slip of paper and go 'look there dumbass'. Instead he had to ask a question that was almost equally as frustrating and insulting as if he had found the instructions.

"Are you SURE there w͜e͠ren̛'͟ţ instructions?"

Yeah, totally helpful Carbine.

Best help.

But what was he going to do? Just pull out what needed to be done from his exhaust? Was he a magic book who knew how to build everything made in a kit ever? Nope! He was a police officer turned criminal turned convict turned frontline fighter turned... pathetic little handyman... This train of thought would be depressing enough to drive almost any mech to drink. Luckily Carbine's levels of crap to give were so thin he didn’t seem that phased past laziness.

[Bumblebee]

Bumblebee lowered his arm, shaking it briefly before folding them across his chest as he watched Carbine look over from a distance at what he had already done. He noticed the narrowing of the ex-cops optics, and his posture. Well, at least it wasn't just Bumblebee that didn't want to be down here. At least Bee wasn't outwardly sulking like a child, though.

--A mess? Ya mean getting things organized!--

He beeped, a slight hint of optimism in his tone. Maybe he could spur some enthusiasm from the sulky Carbine. He was trying to be peppy in this awfully dreary room, doing this awfully boring, crappy job. This wouldn't be so bad now there were two of them down here, they'd make quick work of this. Right..? Right! Okay back to what Bee just said.

/Organized/

Organized. There were a lot of words that could describe the scene behind Bumblebee, and organized was most certainly not one of them. All he'd managed to achieve was make things harder for both he and Carbine, as now parts from one of the pallets were strewn in no particular order all over the floor. At least he hadn't been too eager. Things could be much, much worse. He could've unstacked all the pallets instead of just this one.

His own posture stiffened some as Carbine began to stride over. Part of him had a feeling that he may get yelled at for starting early, and for not doing much of anything. He wasn't too familiar with Carbine's character, and given that he was an ex-cop, he must be serious and real good at yelling. Especially when it came to getting things done.

He watched the other Mech walk over, taking note of his movements. It looked like Carbine wanted to be here even less than Bee did, and now they'd probably have to go back through the things he'd pulled off the pallet to see what was what. Because Bee had no clue. It all looked the same to him – he hadn't been looking at it close enough to notice that some of the beams had weird connectors and holes in them. He'd just been pulling it all off, the sorting of parts would come after.

Still he watched, as Carbine nudged a foot forwards, poking at one of the posts. His head tilting in curiosity, optics widening as the post wobbled, then toppled. He lurched forwards out of instinct a moment, but it was too late – it wasn't like he could rush over there and stop it from falling. He was fast, but not /that/ fast. He stood still, watching in horror as it fell in almost glorious slow motion. Bee's doorwings arching up sharply as it hit the concrete floor with a clank. He knew it was gonna' happen and yet the sheer noise of it startled him, making him tense up. The echo that followed was just as bad. Once the pipe fell? It didn't stop there, oh no. Of course not. His attention now fully on the pipe as it rolled.. and rolled...

Ya going to stop that..? No..? Okay...

It did stop, eventually. He looked back at Carbine just in time to make brief eye contact, before he followed Carbine's gaze, glancing down. Arms dropping to his sides as he glanced over the floor by his feet. Peering back up to look at Carbine as he spoke. Instructions..? Well it made sense that there would be some. But he hadn't seen any.

--Uuuh.-- He held up a finger as if to say 'wait a sec', before he swiveled on his heel, turning his back on Carbine for a moment and looking down at the mess on the floor. --Nope! Least not here. I mean I haven't checked the other pallets yet, so maybe there's instructions oveeerr..-- he trailed off, turning to look at the other pallets stacked with beams and parts.

It was then he saw the instructions sitting oh-so-obviously on top. –-...There...-- he sighed. Damnit. It wasn't like Bee to not notice something, but he'd honestly expected this to be a lot simpler than it was.

Lifting one arm, he pointed to his left, at the instructions on the pallet. --Grab those would ya? Then we'll know where to even start.-- The peppiness and optimism in his tone had faded some. He just wanted to get this done, and now he felt like an idiot for not noticing the instructions sooner.

[Carbine]

This was special on multiple levels.

A scouting Cybertronian, and a hunt and pursuit Cybertronian both took far too long to spot the instructions that were stuck right on the top of that pallet. Granted, they were human instructions and as such were tiny, but still, it was a piece of bleach white paper roughly the size of a palm that both of them should have spotted like a neon beacon of salvation from the confusing mass of chaos that had been created. But no, no... Carbine had looked around after Bee spoke and missed them before the bright colored bot pointed them out exactly.

"So t͏h̸e̴y are..."

Carbine leaned into motion once more, mindful of his steps so he didn’t cause any other unwarranted collapses and noisy chaos from knocking over another stack of parts. Granted, the first one was intentional, but still. Stepping over some pipes here, a bracket or two there, and he was upon the pallet and snatching up the instructions readily.

To give Carbine credit he actually tried for a moment. He lifted the small booklet of thin paper, and used the tips of his fingers to peel back the first page with full intent to try to see what was needed and what would have to be done. What he was met with was the worst case scenario he hadn't wanted. The instructions weren't a bunch of pictures lined up in order to walk you through construction, no... they were tiny little diagrams that showed very little, and then walls of text that caused a buzzing sensation in the side of his processor.

The Ex-cop had an injury, one that was not readily visible because he had his riot helmet clapped on over his head. It covered the gnarled metal plates that were messily welded onto his cranium, and hid the fact he had brain damage save for his speech patterns. But unlike the physical damage, he couldn't hide the fact he was incapable of reading without admitting to it... unless he became a jerk.

He opted for the later.

Smearing the packet closed before he could trigger a seizure from his systems trying to bridge the damaged gap between his language centers of his brain, Carbine tossed the stapled bundle over to Bumblebee readily.

"Ņa͘h͘ y͞ou̶ ̨re͡ad this crap. I'm n-not."

After he flung the packet over, hoping it would make it to Bee and not just fall short of the goal and slap to the ground aimlessly ((as paper products tended to do when thrown)) he readily picked up what he thought was the pipe that was shown in the first diagram. It was long, rectangular, and had a flat piece hanging off of each side that seemed to settle into a slot of some kind. It was once he had the object in hand, and the abomination of instructions out of his control, his mood seemed to shift.

Amusement seeped into his field, realizing they had control now about how this place was actually laid out and put together. They could organize the racks how they wanted, and if others had issue with it? They could move it themselves! The idle bit of control placated his mood, and made it so that he walked over to the nearby corner, and slammed the end of the rod down near it, hoping to get it to stick upright.

Man if this pipe told him anything these shelves would be short though...

"I think it here would be goo-g͝-acceptable."

He declared, pairing it with a wave of his hand in a few wild gestures.

"Then it'd be rows goiņg ̵that way?"

[Bumblebee]

As Carbine strode over to retrieve the instructions, Bumblebee lowered into a crouch to look over the beams and brackets he'd taken off the pallet. With the instructions now in play? They could get this over and done with in a few moments, surely. How hard could it be to build shelves? Carbine could read out what to do, and Bumblebee could build the unit. Teamwork at its finest!

He wasn't paying attention to the Ex-cop as he snatched up the instructions. Nor was he paying attention as the booklet was opened onto the front page. He was just waiting for Carbine to issue commands of where to even start with this.

While he waited, the scout idly picked up a couple of beams that looked like they might fit together, and pushed them flush against each other with a small clang. Awkwardly holding them together in an “L” shape with one hand, he reached down for one of the weird bracket parts for the corner annnnd.. Nope. The holes did not line up. It was worth a shot.

But hey! That's what instructions were for!

He heard the rustle of paper as the booklet was closed, and then Carbine's voice. Glancing over his shoulder just in time to watch the packet being flung his way. Sort of. It landed mere inches from Carbine's feet with a 'splap'. Graceful. You tried, Carbine. The helicopter didn't even seem to notice or care, as he'd already moved to pick up a pipe.

--Alright, yeah.. I'll read 'em, and ya can build I guess.--

The disappointment in his tone was probably pretty obvious. Bee wanted to build! Reading instructions was boring! He quickly gave up on the parts he'd tried to push together, and got to his feet. Moving over to scoop up the flimsy booklet that contained the instructions. He held up the booklet with one hand, delicately peeling back the first page with his other hand, peering at the first page. This should be easy.

Or it could be anything but.

Head tilted as he stared at the first page. Optics widening, then narrowing. Then widening.. Then narrowing. Oh this was confusing. Head tilting left, then right. No wonder Carbine didn't want to read this crap! First off, these pictures didn't make any sense. And second? This writing was tiny! And there was a LOT of it!

His first thought was to maybe get Raf down here. He could read, while Bee and Carbine could build. But that would be just beyond embarrassing. No. He had to read this. They had to build this. It was shelves. His ego was not about to get knocked down a peg or two because of shelves! He glanced to Carbine, then back to the book. Then back to Carbine.. Well okay, that part looked like the one in this diagram... Or did it? Nah.. No way, it was way too short! That one has.. He glanced up, counting. One, two .. Three holes! The one in the book has... One two three.. Four.. Five! At least he thought so. Were they holes, or were they sticky-out parts designed to slot in to other parts? The diagrams given were so poorly drawn, he couldn't tell.

Aaand back to the book.. Optics wide now as he tried to make sense of the giant wall of text. Maybe that'd tell him. This was only the first page. Primus help them.

--Uh-huh..-- He hadn't heard a word Carbine had said, so was just agreeing at this point. --Sure.-- he flicked through a few pages, but that only confused him more. He hadn't expected it to be this technical. One thing was for sure, and it was that the part Carbine had slammed down? Did not go there.  

--Alright. Okay. That piece? Wrong.-- he didn't sound too sure of himself as he moved over to the untouched pallet, gaze still on the book as he flicked back to the first page.

He almost tripped on the beams on the floor, but caught himself in time. With his free hand, he waved to the pallet. Totally playin' it cool. --One of these parts. I think. These are longer, so I think these would go upright?-- his head tilted. --Or maybe we attach two short ones together and these ones go..-- he trailed off. He was confused.

--Ya sure ya don't want to read this?--

[Carbine]

Holding the beam upright, Carbine was trying to envision just how the additional pipes and connectors would attach to it in order to form the shelving units. It seemed really simple, and perhaps there was an extender to attach on this particular beam that would make it reach the appropriate height. If it was doubled? Than it would be perfect for their needs, and as such he was partly convinced that this was the case and he was right. But of course, the yellow bot had other things in mind, and Carbine just had to be a child about it.

A white flared jaw jutted out when Bumblebee told him he was wrong so bluntly, the action causing the seal between his visor and jaw to crackle a bit. The visor wasn't built to flex, and it showed, though it did little but accent his pouting 'facial' expression further. He let out a huffy sound, and sat down the pipe he had been holding before starting to walk back over to where Bee and the rest of the parts are.

It took him short time to get back to the other Cybertronian's side, where he reached over and plucked the paperwork out of his hands daintily. He was careful enough to not rip them apart, but he made it clear that he was taking charge of the booklet again.

"Yeah su̢r͠e̷ f̡in͘é, let's do this s-slag."

He declared confidently, flicking a finger over the front page to flip it open so he could look for step one. As he did so his stance went straighter, his back upright and shoulders back in a pose that made him seem like he felt far too important to be doing such a meager task. All of his weight was rocked over into his left ped, while the wheel of his right heel was resting on the ground, idly rolling a bit.

"Ok so, s̵ţep̀ ̸o̷n̡e ̧says that you ne͢-n̷-̧must to get the upright beams án̴d͢ ̡lay them out."

He started, placing a finger down upon the page as if he was marking his place.

"If the p-picture has a͘n͢ything͜ to s͠aỳ ͡a̕b͏o̵ut ̢i̷t̡, it is the ones with the fan-f͠a-̷flared end so the shelves can be bo͡lte̸d̸ down."

Bullshit. It was all a hundred percent bullshit. He couldn't read, he had no idea what the paperwork was even saying. All he was running off of was the awful awful numbered pictures, and his skill in making up absolute shit on the fly. But hot damn did he sound like he was evaluating the instructions properly, and that this would be an easy task.

"Once you have that don-̀d̴o͏-̧d͞-completed, you need to get the horizontal bars, and͞ ̵sn̨ap them to the vertical ones."

He pointed absently at the first beam he saw that even seemed correct, not even bothering to double check and squint at the picture.

"You may need t̶o f̷o͡r̡ce it a bit."

Forcing things to fit always means they will work properly right?... right...

[Bumblebee]

Bumblebee continued to flip through the pages of the booklet, hoping something would eventually click on where to start or what to do. It didn't. Occasionally he'd glance up at the beams and Carbine, then back down, optics narrowing in that still ongoing state of confusion that this stupid book had put him in. It was possibly even starting to piss him off. Why was this so hard? It was a well-timed glance down that prevented him from seeing Carbine's pout. Not that it mattered, he heard the huffy sound, and glanced back up. Really. You're pouting? Really.

What a sparkling...

He gently shook his head, watching as the helicopter moved over to him. He was holding the booklet so delicately himself that Carbine was easily able to pluck it from his grasp. Bee was honestly surprised, he was half expecting Carbine to put up more of a fight over having to read, or that there would be some sort of argument over Carbine being bigger, and therefore should be the one to build. But there wasn't.

This suited Bee fine. His arms dropping to his sides as he began to make his way back over to the pile of beams. Then Carbine spoke, and he stopped.

--Step one says what? Upright beams?--

Newsflash, Carbine, all the beams are laying down on a pallet. None of them are upright. He'd turn to face the other Mech, walking backwards and shaking his head. Annoyance oozed in his field now. He lifted both arms to his sides, servos palm up in a 'what the frag are you talking about' gesture, before turning back around before he went aft over chassis over a beam again.

--Flared end. Okay. Alright. I see one of those.--

At least he thought he did. Sure, why not. He moved over to one of the beams he'd pulled off the pallet earlier. It had a flared.. End.. Thing.. So this had to be it. He'd then move to pull more of these similar looking beams off the pallet, and gently easing them down onto the ground as not to make a clatter. The pipe that Carbine had dropped earlier had made enough noise, and Bee didn't want more of it.

Progress! Or was it?

Horizonta-.. Verti-...What the frag are you going on about. They are all horizontal. They are all laying down. They all look the same laying down like this. You have to be more descriptive!

He was so, so frustrated. This simple task was not so simple, and the way that Carbine was describing it only confused him more. He wanted to get back to watching cartoons. He'd turn again to stare pointedly at the other Mech, holding one of the flared-end beams with one servo. You have no idea what you're talking about, do you? Bee had sort of read the first page, and that didn't sound familiar at all.

--Force it a bit? I.. I don't think it works like that.-- Looking to the beam he was holding, glancing over his shoulder to a random beam, then back to Carbine. Yeah, no way. Forcing? Not the way to do this.

--Let me see that. There's no way it says that.--

and with that, he would march back over to Carbine, and make an attempt to roughly snatch the booklet from his servos.

[Carbine]

Carbine remained where he was, his right leg crooked up slightly so that he could roll his heel wheel back and forth in an idle motion. It was just something to pass the time as he bullshit his way through this packet as if he knew what he was talking about. Sadly he would not get to do this for very long however, as Bumblebee seemed to be getting uppity at his completely legit totally practical and really easy to understand instructions.

Yellow outlines of optics shone through the dark visor, watching Bumblebee as he maneuvered some of the pieces around, only to then try to march over. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the little car was coming after even before he started to speak the series of beeps and trills. Carbine watched him approach, optics half closing into an unamused look while he lifted his arm into the air.

His posture was entirely the same, causal, calm; he had just lifted the packet of paper up and far outside of the scout's range of reach. He didn't even halve to fully extend his limb, the joint gingerly bent some in a more relaxed state as if this task of keepaway was entirely too juvenile to put his all into. Child's play. Which... in a way was somewhat true.

Carbine was significantly taller than Bumblebee, the small yellow mech's head only coming up to mid abdomen on the helicopter on a good day. This meant that with his arm raised up, Bumblebee would have to literally climb up his front like some kind of jungle gym in order to reach the instructions. This wasn't going to be even given a chance to occur though, as Carbine's free hand snapped out suddenly.

White tipped fingers curled over Bumblebee's helm to grasp onto it, his elbow locking straight and shoulder tensing a bit as he tried to keep the smaller mech down and away.

"Whoa héy͜, hold on. Carbine don't̶ r̵o͠ll͡ th͜at way."

He said smugly, his field rippling with amusement at his own joke. The tone of voice indicated he knew Bee wasn't coming over to get grabsy with him, but he didn’t care. Honestly? This entire task was getting quite a bit more enjoyable suddenly even though they were getting squat and shit completed in the long term.

"I thought you wan-͠wa-w͟-̕desired me to instruct hrm?"

Always the antagonist while preaching the victim.

"I am sitting here̵ p-put͟ti̛n̨g my sp-spark and soul into this tas-̢ta-k͞z̷z̀t̸-job, a̵nd̶ you̵ ̴còme and just have to ass-ault me!"

Oh now the sarcasm was in full fledged swing. He plunked his right foot down fully off of his wheel in order to distribute his weight properly again, only to shift his stance. His hips pushed forward and shoulders fell back, left leg sliding a bit with a gritty crackle on the dirty floor to hold his balance as he stooped his spine. He slapped the packet of paper and his wrist up against his forehead, acting as if he were a fine lady about to feint. His words squawked out in mock hurt.

"I c͞a͜n͟no͞t b͞e̸l͡i̴eve y͡o͠u͏!"

[Bumblebee]

Bumblebee made quick work of getting back over to Carbine. He was a bot on a mission, and that mission was to get the booklet of instructions so he could look it over again and do it right. Because Carbine was doing it oh so very wrong. His gaze fixed on the helicopter, optics narrowing as he saw Carbine's arm lift. No no no NO! OH YOU AFT.

He called that a mile away. He knew he'd do that. Bee noted that his posture didn't even change as he lifted his arm. Stupid smug aft. Using his height to his advantage. Not that it'd stop Bee from trying, though, and as Carbine's arm was lifted, he would lunge upwards in a desperate, scrambled attempt to snatch it before it got too far out of his reach.

It didn't work. Bee was too small, even when jumping. That and he was still carrying a metal beam, that didn't help him any. Sure, lets blame that.

He landed with a soft thud in front of the helicopter, glaring up at Carbine with narrowed optics. His free servo resting on his hip. That's how you want to play? Fine. He was about to make another attempt to jump. Maybe if he tried really hard this time he could grab the bottom of the booklet and rip it from Carbine's grasp. Before he could jump, however, he felt fingers curling over his helm.

--What? Don't flatter yourself!-- He scoffed, field still oozing annoyance to counter the amused field of the other Mech in front of him. Learn to take a joke, Bee. He ducked down and back a couple of steps, out of Carbines grasp. Rolling his shoulders as he continued to scowl.

--You aren't making any sense. I just want to look at the pictures again since your descriptions are a bunch of scrap!-- screw reading the thing, but maybe if he took the booklet over to the beams he could make better sense of it all. Probably not, but it was worth a shot. He'd wave his free hand to the pile of metal beams and parts. --Which ones are the vertical beams and which ones are the horizontal ones, hm? Point em out to me if you want to keep the stupid instructions!--

Spark and soul.. Yeah fraggin' right...

His gaze shifted back to Carbine as he shifted position, watching him. He shifted his own weight some, lowering the beam to the ground so it was vertical and casually leaning on it with an elbow. It was mildly uncomfortable but he was intent on staring Carbine down until he got answers, or the booklet.

As Carbine slapped the booklet to his forehead, Bumblebee let out an agitated whir. His own free hand moving to his face. Facepalming so hard right now.

--Just give me the book and stop being dramatic!--

[Carbine]

Seeing Bumblebee jump, even though it was only once, in order to try to get the paper had brought back some amusing memories from Garrus-1. The ex-convict was reminded of Rend, the small mech scrambling and jumping often to try to receive or grasp things from victors, trying to play the role of a little vulture. This was different however, it wasn't a game of keep away with Energon rations, but was more a keep away of the one piece of paper that could bring order to this situation.

Even if it was confusing order.

Carbine let Bee back away and slip free, rather than locking his fingertips around the smaller Cybertronian's head. He considered it, he truly did. He thought about making it so Bee was stuck at literal arms length for some time, but he kind of liked his fingers and he didn't know if the little last-spark would have the snipsnap to break them off in order to get free. He didn't really want a trip to the Medbay, and while he could spin it into being Bee's fault in full he felt like it was an awful lot of effort.

When Bee started to whine and moan about how his instructions were total crap, he finally changed his posture as if he had taken some kind of personal affront to the action. His right ped planted down, and he squared off with the scout, his hands lowering to plant down upon his hips. This was done to make the impatient frustrated gesture, but was also a tantalizing tease since the instructions were now at collar height for him.

"The ve͟rt́įcal͡ ͘b͡e͢a͢ms are the ones th-that will end up verti͞-̷ve̸r̀-v-upright, the ones with the flair, and I DID point out the horizontal ones, o͠r ̧are͠ y͟ou͜ just not pay-̢p̛-̷p̢-cashing attention and blaming it on me?"

With a snapped motion, Carbine lifted the booklet back up and out of reach once more, his frame's stance transitioning to a more pure frustration at this point. His black armor was puffing up a bit like an agitated cat, and his rotors on his back flicked and rattled in their connectors, making an odd sound as if he was trying to very poorly imitate a rattlesnake.

"Nó! I said you sho-h̴ou͡-̀uld read it but you in-insisted on me doing so, s͢ơ ͘I͘ am ̧g̕òin͞g͘ to do it!"

He declared back pointedly. As he said this, he took a step forward to close the distance between them, his free hand reaching out to plunk a finger on Bee's chest to then push.

"So j̨u̴s͝t atta͠ch that flared beam to the one I p-pointed out, b̵e̸caus̴e ͞y͢où are-were totally paying a͡t̨t͞ent̸i̶o̴ǹ."

[Bumblebee]

Another frustrated whir escaped Bee, his gaze not leaving Carbine's. This wasn't getting anything done. And if it kept going the way it was? It was unlikely that anything would get done for a while. They could've been halfway finished by now, surely. But instead? Here they were having a standoff over a booklet of stupid instructions that neither of them should need to begin with. They were building shelves. It was not hard. And yet? It was seemingly impossible.

As Carbines posture changed, Bee stood up straighter, as if trying to make himself taller. Not that it meant much going up against Carbine. He was no longer leaning on the beam, thank Primus, that was awkward. His gaze drifted down to the booklet which was now within a more manageable place to grab. But he stood still, knowing if he moved forwards, or gave any hint that he was about to make another lunge for it? Carbine would just throw his arm up again like the aft he was.

--Ya didn't point out slag! Ya just went on and on about horizontal and vertical beams!-- He'd make a point of resting his servo on the beam, gaze shifting back to look up at Carbine. –-Something something picture, ya didn't show me the picture and I can't REMEMBER the picture so I want to look at it! That's all!-- he'd gesture with his free hand to the beams with the flared bottoms he'd pulled from the pallet which were laying down behind Carbine, and then to the one he was leaning on. --I got that part, just the rest was confusing. They shouldn't snap together, especially not with force.--

His door wings perked up some as Carbine's rotors flicked and rattled, and he narrowed his optics some. He was stood as straight as he could now as Carbine took a step forward, then another.

--Insist?! I asked if ya wanted to!-- His tone louder now, the myriad of beeps echoing around the stone walls of the room. --If I'd have known ya would give such dumb instructions I woulda let ya stay by the pallet!-- so much for wanting to have fun building...

He stood strong and solid as Carbine's finger plunked against his chest, optics further narrowing. He had one servo still firmly on the beam. The other? He could use to smack Carbine. But that would just be foolish. He had a better idea. Ooh yes.

He was indeed paying attention. To the booklet which Carbine held.

Now Carbine was close, too close, infact. Bee could use this to his advantage, and he did. Or at least he tried. He didn't budge as he was pushed, but he'd swing his free servo around and up, making a hasty snatch of the booklet. Fingers curling around whatever flimsy paper he could. He got it, and then pulled back. Not counting on Carbine to have such a grip on the stupid book.

There was a not so awesome sound of paper tearing as he pulled away and back from Carbine.

Optics wide in dismay as he looked down at his servo. Well, at least he had half the booklet now. The bottom half.

…

The half he didn't need.

Slag.

[Carbine]

"I totally did p̶oin̷t͜ ̴out slag! Where's Spy-M̧cG͡e̷e when you ne-n͢-͞n-͝require him!? Alert-o-Red or whatever hiś na͟m͜e̶ was!"

He cried this out while lifting his helm up and away from peering down at Bumblebee. He was looking for some kind of security camera, his gaze shifting and flicking along the top edges of the room carefully. If he knew the security director more than he knew his name, than he would be damn sure there'd somehow be a camera in this room despite absolutely nothing else being fleshed out. There'd probably have to be a battery in it since there would be no way to wire it directly to a power source down here.

Carbine gave up after a moment of hunting, figuring that he had Red Alert's wordless support on the fact he totally pointed at a beam, even if he wasn't sure it was even the right beam. The fact was that he had made such a motion, and would stand beside this claim to his grave.

"Are ̡y͏o͝u̸ s̷ure̶ it is the instructions that are du̡m-d͞u-d͟-idiot? Because I think-"

His words were cut off instantly as Bumblebee lunged and acted faster than he really could compensate for. While Carbine had told himself he was ready to lunge back and keep the booklet from the scout, mental preparation could only do so much in the end of things since the body could only move so fast. The ex-convict's forearm wrenched back with a scream of hydraulics, trying to pull the booklet up and well out of reach again, only to hear a tearing sound.

In a horrendous display of delayed reflexes and alarmed distress, Carbine instantly let go of the packet after he heard paper tearing. He didn’t want it to rip in half, and he didn't want to be the source of it being ruined. This said? The momentum was already done, and his reaction was delayed, meaning that letting go of the paper didn't save anything, but instead just flung the now shredded pamphlet up into the air to cause all of the tiny half steeds to cascade down to the ground below.

For a moment time seemed to hold still, the horror over what happened settling down around them with the settling of the paper 'snow'. Carbine's yellow optics shone through his visor as perfect circles to accurately articulate what his mouth seemed unable to. How could this happen? How could Bee do this? ((Because it was totally his fault)) Even though he couldn't read it, they needed the booklet and now it was all sorts of out of order.

After this agonizing moment of silence, he let out his own trilling roar of static, before he lunged forward with a hard kick of his legs.

A heavy thwump.

A ram of metal against metal

A tumble of two Cybertronian hurling across the ground

Carbine had effectively slammed his shoulder into Bumblebee after his kickoff, spear tackling him down to the ground where for a fleeting moment he almost rode the smaller mech like a sled before momentum flung them into a roll. The roll bounced and curled, lopsided from their multitude of pointed and bowed armor that made them far from round. One tumble, two, on the third rotation Carbine kicked off his feet on the ground, to force them both into a stand, as his right arm had hooked underneath Bee.

This clusterfuck of fast movements and scrambling squawks, ended with Carbine hoisting Bumblebee up off of the ground easily. The scout's legs were tucked under his right arm, and Carbine's left hand was clutching onto his back armor. This left him holding the bot almost like a Gatling gun, where he then aimed Bee at the 'horizontal' pipe he had pointed out before.

"P̡ick̢͡ ͟it̴̛ ù̷p͝͏̷p͝p̶͜!͟!"

He chatter screeched in static laden squawks.

[Bumblebee]

All Bumblebee could do was stare in horrified silence at the torn booklet in his servo. He'd gotten what he wanted. But at what cost? The top half of the booklet seemed to be all but ruined. Maybe he could work with this. They had the bottom parts.. It still had diagrams.. Well, half diagrams, and it was missing all the steps that were on the upper parts of the page.. And a lot of the text.. Okay, most of the text...

He was so, so focused on flicking through the pathetic remains of the ripped booklet that he didn't even even hear Carbine shift and lunge forward. He barely even registered the trilling roar of static that came from the helicopter. There was a blur, something heading his way. Fast. He glanced up, but it was too late to react.

THWUMP

It didn't take much, if anything, to take Bumblebee down. He was small, and unsuspecting. Not to mention oh so totally distracted by what the frag he'd just done.

This was now. Going to take. Forever.

Especially as now Carbine had crash tackled him to the ground.

He let out a terrified squark of a yelp, it wasn't even words. He couldn't think fast enough to even yell words, at least none that would make any sort of sense. He was just yelling, limbs flailing as he smashed to the ground, tackled by the heavier Mech. This wasn't a simple tackle. No. It wasn't like he fell and stopped. No, of course not! He was skidding.. Skidding along the floor, then his body seemed to lock up, not wanting to be used as a sled. The screeching of his frame along the ground was like nails on a chalkboard. The ground was too rough to slide on for too long, given it was half finished. This, and the momentum of being lunged at, and he found himself tumbling into a painful roll. They continued to tumble, and Bumblebee continued to whine and squark, making some sort of an attempt at flailing his limbs, to work out which side was up, but they just kept going. It felt way more than three tumbles. The beam that was in his hand was flung somewhere during this, landing with an almighty clatter somewhere across the room.

Disorientated and now on his feet, Bee got a split second to look around and work out what the hell just happened. He felt Carbines arm hook around him, and he was easily lifted. He didn't even have time to scramble and fight back, or even make an attempt to get some ground between the pair. No. Of course not. Here he was, being held like a Gatling gun in the larger Mech's arms. His head was way too close to the ground, and he didn't like being almost upside down like this.

--PUT ME THE FRAG DOWN!-- His beeps full of static but OH SO FULL OF FRUSTRATION, brain module full of confusion and fuzzy static after what'd just happened in the space of a mere couple of blinks. Bee was fast, but he had not seen that coming.

He squirmed to the best of his ability. His arms were free, and he'd try to jab his elbow fiercely into Carbine's legs. The only thing he could fraggin' reach from down here. He ignored Carbine's squark of an order for right now, as he tried in vain to get himself released, even if it'd mean being dropped onto his face, which was a high possibility. He gave up after a couple of pathetic jabs, he didn't have a full range of body movement being held like this, so Carbine probably wasn't even hurt by it. Arms limp noodling to his sides as he hung pathetically in Carbine's grasp.

--FINE. FINE I'LL PICK IT UP!-- He couldn't really raise his voice, what with his speech limited to beeps, but Primus did he try. He'd reach down to pick up the beam. His first instinct was to take an almighty swing at Carbine's legs just so he'd let go – but he stopped himself. Probably for the best. --THERE! PUT ME. DOWN.--

[Carbine]

While Carbine was the instigator to the roll, he didn’t exactly have it easy either. His body was angular and his back, where he was expected to tumble, was all but flat. The high peak and ridge of his docked cassette made it that their roll was thrown to the side, which only made his rotors flail madly. They ended up splaying out of the way like dragonfly wings in order to not be snapped, acting as a counterbalance to their spiral. In the end, even after he got up to his feet, the slightly flexible sheets of metal were spread out to either side and refused to lie flat. It created an illusion of him being even bigger than he was when added with the fact his armor was still puffed out. Add in that his bio-lights were seething an angry red and he looked ready to throw down.

Internally Bolo shifted and squirmed in his dock, flexing out from all the action and being hit in the tumble. Confusion fed through his link with his master, and Carbine didn't seem to pay it much heed, just making sure the canine remained locked in place. The last thing the helicopter needed was to deal with the animal while ALSO dealing with this little bot who thought he could scream orders at him now.

"OH ́ŃA͏̴̵Y̴̴ ͏N͘͠A̡͏Y̨ ̀J͝Ǫ́́T̴͞O̕ ̷̛B̴̡͟O͠Y̨! I am going t̛o͠ ̕f̵lat w̡in͢g͞ your aft a͞ll ͠'rou͏n̵d this peter as you bu̵-̶b̴-construct this slag! I'ma dead up̵ ̸ąll͢ ͏you͠r̀ time!"

Carbine yelled this out, his voice filled with equal measure rage and amusement. It made him very hard to read, especially since he was throwing in a rather notable amount of slang terms from prison that when mashed with his glitch made things that much more difficult to understand. Was he truly angry? Was he just frustrated? Or was he only having a blast at Bees expense? It wasn't clear. What was clear however was Bee's attempts to get free.

Carbine's front was armored powerfully to act as a riot shield. He could face off against smaller caliber weapons and punches, and let them roll off his so called hide without much of anything. This meant that the sloped panels of his shins were plenty thick, and Bee's strikes just clanged and banged against them noisily, leaving only scuffs that removed some of the black paint to expose bright silver. The ex-convict didn't seem to notice though, taking a step forward once Bee relented and picked up the pipe.

A soft rumble growled out from his internals, the noise feral and deep, radiating either from his engine, or possibly from the beast locked down along his spine. It was not evident, and was hard to tell. Either way he wasn't putting Bee down, and was walking him over to the pipe from before that he was convinced the beam the bot now held would connect to. As Bee complained he spoke again, his voice never lowering.

"He͟ee̛ell̶l no! You got hit̨ ̛a̢nd ̷ga͢s̷ up be-cause you ̕lope͜d͢ i͏t̷ a̧l͘l͡ and are in this for har̕-͜har-stiff time!"

He barked this out with an almost manic sounding laugh, jabbing Bee in the direction of the second pipe. It was the one he was convinced attached to the pipe in Bee's hands, and he was going to make a point with it. Carbine just had to keep this up long enough to attempt to prove a point, and because of that he tried to ignore the straining in his shoulders from holding the scout. His shoulders were worn, the connectors not super strong. He wasn't really meant to support someone like this long term, but he didn't let that slow him.

"Make those t̛wo͞ ju͡m̛p ̨th̢e b͢rơom!"




Translations-
"OH NAY NAY ((insult)) BOY! I am going to slam your face against the floor all round this cell as you build this slag! I'ma deny you of all your time!"

"Heeeelll no! You got a long sentence and better get moving because you lost all your privileges and are in this for the long haul!"

"Make those two marry/join up!"