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

[Carbine]

What was he saying!?

What is going on?!

What do you want of me!?

Bolo stared Bee down, his meager little field radiating aggression with a huge dose of frustration and confusion. He didn’t know what this bot wanted of him, and he did want to please! He did want to enjoy himself! What dog wouldn't? But... he couldn't understand! This left him growling, maintaining direct eye contact with the Cybertronian who seemed to be growing nervous and catching on that this wasn't happy-fun-play time.

Watching Bumblebee stand, Bolo took a hesitant step forward, but did not put his weight down. The paw was lifted off of the ground, with the tips of the sharp toes gingerly touching the floor's surface as if it was glass. He held his position, only moving when Bee had moved to convey a stalking motion like some kind of predatory animal. The placating hands however made him pause.

That was a passive motion, and one he knew and recognized. It was submission, which was good, but it didn’t erase the wariness that he was feeling, nor his frustration. It only kept him from perusing more. He aimed to hold Bee in place until Master could come and make sense of things, or until he took matters into his own... paws?

The wordless conversation between the Carrier and Cassette's intangibly linked frames spoke much. Bolo shared his anger and distress; Carbine offered reassurances and told not to attack. Bolo emphasized his frustration and aggression; Carbine sent back amusement and mirth. Bolo pushed his aggression up more; Carbine sent back calm emotions to try to ease the dog off its murderous edge.

This all happened rather fast, Bolo showing some unease that was displayed by a nervous licking of his snout. His tongue lulled up and lapped at the sensors on the end of his helm, a display of anxiousness but not of his own submission. All of this was disengaged, when Carbine entered back into the room.

The ex-cop held the spot welder in his left hand, while he strode up with a strong gait. It was not a jog, but he was going at a good quip to return before things got too bad, showing that despite how he may act, and despite how he seemed, he really didn't want to actually bring someone on his own team pain ((especially by his own Cassette)). It is because of this, his free hand snapped forward and grabbed Bolo's harness, wrenching him back and spinning around once like it was some kind of merry go round before plunking the dog down on its feet.

Bolo warbled out a weird noise when he was grabbed, his legs going ragdoll as he was spun around, before he plonked down warily on all fours once more. This broke his thoughts and focus, and left him looking up at his owner in confusion. Carbine meanwhile, let out a clicked whistle of a sound, that caused Bolo to sit down again and look like nothing bad had even happened. This sound could be notable to Bumblebee, and serve as an early clue, since it was really similar to a word in Basic, but just different enough to be its own noise.

"I think you̷ ̧conf͟u̴s͜e̸d͢ him."

Carbine explained, playing nice for now and watching his Cassette carefully. He didn’t seem like the goofball from before, but another Cybertronian who was actually trying to help, having shed off some of his sass.

"S͏a̡y the̕ word 'stand'?"

[Bumblebee]

Why are you mad at me!?

What is going on?!

What do you want FROM me?!

Bee continued to stare down the cassette, not knowing what else to do in this situation. Servos held up high, palms splayed some to show he meant no harm. He really didn't. He just wanted to have some fun while Carbine was gone. To play fetch. Was that so much to ask for?

...Had Bolo gotten closer in the time it took Bee to stand up? He had. Great. Just great. Not only was the pup almost as big as Bee, he was fast.

He cast a wary fraction-of-a-second glance to the door, silently wishing Carbine would hurry the frag up. He never thought he'd be relieved to see the helicopter re-enter the room, but here he was – silently willing the other Mech to come back. Now. His gaze shifted back to the pup, wanting to keep an eye on him so he could duck this way or that depending on if he was lunged at; which at this point was looking likely. He took another slow, cautious step back, just incase.

Talking to the pup did nothing. That was probably the problem to begin with. He'd chatted too much, probably. Maybe he should call Carbine. Tell him to come back. That he had annoyed Bolo somehow and was now quite pathetically almost backed up against a wall and he didn't know what to do.

The excitement that had filled his field ebbed away, and was quickly replaced with panic and nervousness, although he was trying to remain calm on the outside – not that it would do much, pups were usually pretty good at reading emotions, and Bee wasn't exactly hiding the fact he was worried. Obviously unaware of the wordless conversation happening between Carbine and Bolo, he would continue to stand awkwardly, at this point just waiting for Bolo to make a move. His pride preventing him from calling for help on the comm, although he really had no other option at this point. He didn't know how to get Bolo to back down without it ending badly for him, Bolo, or most likely? Both.

A few tense seconds later, that felt like an eternity, and a few thoughts of “Yeah, I should probably call Carbine..” Bee glanced back to the doorway in time to see the helicopter return, spot welder in hand. Thank Primus.

As Carbine plucked Bolo up and put him down behind him, Bee would lower his servos. He was still nervous, although thankful that Carbine had returned. He didn't take a step forward, still content back here away from the cassette and his (probably) angry carrier. 

--Confuse him? I didn't even DO anything!-- He would beep in protest, a whiny tone; as if he expected to get in trouble for somehow making the cassette angry when he hadn't done anything.

--What? Uh.. Okay.. 'Stand'..? Like that?-- He said that 'Stand' slowly, so Carbine could hear, optics focusing on the Cassette, to see if he did anything. Not that Bee expected Bolo to listen to, or obey anything he said.

[Carbine]

Not responding directly to Bumblebee, Carbine focused on Bolo.

"Equivalent. Stand"

He said the words as if he were speaking to a computer that had very poor voice recognition skills, trying to suppress his vocal issues to annunciate properly. Bolo just looked up at his Master, trying to figure out what was happening and process the seldom used command to its full meaning. After a moment of silence, Bolo stood up onto all fours, his helm raised high, and ears perked up in interest. Carbine then began to explain what he thought was going on.

"Bolo is s-smart... but he's still an a͝n̸i̷m͡a͠l ̢cas̷sette̷. Not as cl-clever as others ou͝t thére."

Carbine reached his hand down while he said this, to run it over the canine's helm. Bolo leaned up into the touch, his ears folding back and optics dimming in his equivalent to closing his eyes.

"Commands are sim-sim-basic, and a lot ar̡e r̨ep͝r̡e͟s͟e͠nted͞ by whistles, so maybe whatever you were saying was giving conflicting d͏i̢re͏c̛t̷io̴n-s."

He was trying to be helpful, he really was. Carbine wasn't entirely a monster, and when the situation called for it he would assist fully. This was one of those moments, where he knew the best thing to do was to buck up and stop being an abrasive little burden for a bit. He stopped looking down at Bolo then, to peer at Bumblebee, the expression in the outline of his optics calm.

"If he is told to a͟t͝tack͡ s̀o͏m̕ethi͟ng with no target, then told t̶o̕ lįe ̀do̕w̢n, well... he maybe got frustrated."

Bolo has since calmed down significantly from before. His frustrations, his confusion, it was still present in tiny amounts, but it wasn't enough to lead him to do anything. Following Carbine's lead, he looked up at Bumblebee again.

"ANYWAY! I want you to rattle out b̀a̕si̢c ͜c͞o̢m̢m̶ánd̵s and I will set them I guess. In case y-ou are stuck w͜ith Bolo s͢o͢m̴ew͠here without me."

If this was reality back on Cybertron, if they weren't trapped in this new horrible world of war, and everything was typical and he had his job as a cop still, than none but fellow cops would have the ability to order Bolo. The canine was independent, and set to his owner, to keep criminals from being able to make him falter by giving a directive to 'sit' while being charged.

This war changed it all.

When Carbine arrived here, he had tried to set up Bolo to react to commands from anyone until told to attack them. It was a means to keep other Autobots safe, and keep the proverbial gun unloaded until absolutely needed. It could be overrode easily if someone hurt Carbine of course, or other obvious situations, but the idea was that Bee should be able to command the dog.

The last thing Carbine wanted was to be out and unable to help, leaving Bolo as a burden to others. Or if they needed to borrow his dog, they should be able to tell him to track something or stay put. It is because of this with every subsequent command Bumblebee would say, Carbine would try to set it as something Bolo could recognize. Granted, he was proofing all the commands of course.

He didn't want Bee to be able to order the dog to do anything outrageous.

[Bumblebee]

Bumblebee took a cautious step forward now that Bolo was now listening to Carbine, and wasn't about to go attacking Bee for talking. His gaze didn't leave the cassette, and he tilted his head curiously, watching as Bolo rose to stand on all fours. So that's how this worked, huh? Bee had to say a thing, and Carbine would teach it to Bolo.

Exciting!

--I can't even remember what I said. Something about playing fetch. Then he got mad.-- He tilted his head as he spoke, gaze shifting to Carbine. Maybe he'd be able to tell what 'beeps' may have sounded like other words Bolo might've known, and that may give some clue as to how Bee managed to get the happy cassette so angry in such a short space of time. He'd said 'fetch' a lot, so maybe that was the offending word.

--At first I thought he was mad because ya left, but that's silly. All I know is I didn't mean to upset him.-- He felt genuinely bad for it, and was thankful that Carbine had come back when he did; not only that, but was willing to teach Bolo some Basic so it hopefully wouldn't happen again. Maybe Carbine was alright after all..

He would watch Bolo as he chatted to Carbine, watching for ear flicks or any indication that the cassette could 'understand' what Bee was saying, even if he translated it differently due to the similarities of his commands, and the Basic of which Bumblebee spoke.

--Basic commands? Alright!-- The door wings on Bee's back would flutter slightly in excitement. This was going to be a thing. He'd grown sort-of attached to Bolo already in this short space of time, in that he thought he was amazing, and he hadn't seen a cassette in.. Well.. Forever! And this one was a DOG. Maybe he could borrow him in future to show Raf, or to play with, or to be friends with. He was probably getting ahead of himself a little, Carbine probably needed Bolo for stuff, but this at least meant he could take him in future without fear of Bolo getting mad!

With that, he would begin to say all kinds of commands. Ones he thought would be useful, ones that he would use. Each word he would say slowly, pausing after each one so Carbine could teach it to Bolo. He even included Bolo's name somewhere in there, just so he'd be able to tell when Bee's beeps were addressing him, including a few 'trick' commands, if Carbine would allow those – just so he could show off infront of Raf later!

--Sit. Stay. Come. Drop it. Leave it. Heel. No. Yes. Off. Bolo. Shake. Roll over. Beg. Speak. Fetch. Bow. Play Dead... Kill!-- That last one was mostly a joke, but he wanted to see if he could get away with it.

That was all he could think of, and he'd glance back to Carbine hopefully, unless the helicopter could think of any words that Bee had forgot, that was all Bee had for now.

They probably should get back to their original task, which was building the shelves, but this was way more important, and way more fun.

[Carbine]

Carbine shrugged a bit. He wasn't going to try to figure out what words Bee had said to frustrate Bolo, because after this? Hopefully it wouldn't be an issue ever again. He had a plan now, and things were going to end up nice and clean cut. Granted, Bumblebee wouldn't be able to give complex orders to the canine, but he would be able to do basic stuff.

"He pro̡b̢a̶bl͞y likes it w-when I am away bèc͏ausè he can ge-g-g̷-sieze away with slag."

Offering this bit of humor back in return, he swiftly set back into 'work mode', trying to lock down the new commands into something Bolo could understand. Translating the phrases was a simple enough task. After each word, Carbine had to give a verbal directive that the noise made was indeed a recognizable thing, and that it equaled whatever phrase Carbine typically used for such things.

It was a bit time consuming all things considered, and there were a couple hiccups along the way. The glitch in his system meant that he sometimes had problems vocalizing, this much was easily apparent through the entire ordeal with Bumblebee, but it meant he messed up the translation occasionally. This ended up forcing the yellow car to repeat the word again so he could try to set it once more.

Overall, all of the words were acceptable things that Carbine didn't have issue with. Many were basic commands all simple minded cassettes seemed to know, and a few were canine specific that Bolo could understand readily. It wasn't until the last one that Carbine actually paused and glanced over at Bumblebee as if judging him silently for requesting such a thing.

This was... a tricky thing...

To be able to tell Bolo to kill or attack something meant that the canine could defend someone who was in trouble. This sounded good, this sounded fair, especially when 'kill' can be interchanged with 'destroy' rather easily, permitting Bolo to shred up a weapon or other threat within moments after he got his grubby little paws on it. But... to be able to order Bolo into combat, also meant it was an ability to order Bolo into a very dangerous situation.

Carbine's mesh felt like it crawled for a moment, unsure if he appreciated the idea that Bumblebee, being as young and seemingly inexperienced as he was, ((despite this being untrue)) could just order Bolo to his death unintentionally. This conflict showed, conveyed through a thoughtfuly solemn yet still judgmental look while he stared down the last sparked. Finally, he spoke, a decision made.

"Bolo is clever, if so-meone is i̶n̨ ͞tr̸oùble, or some̢o͠ne̵ is a threat, he will attack the assailant or try to r̛estŕài̵n̴ thém. It is in his program-ming to do so. As s-such I don’t feel comf͜ort͝a̴bl͞e͞ ͝gìving̛ you a key to send him to d-direct battle. You will want to ad̵d͢ 'Down'̛ an̷d ́'̡Quie̡t́' to your directives th-though."

Anything else could be added in later honestly. Chances are Bee would come up with some new thing Bolo would just 'have' to understand anyway.

[Bumblebee]

Bumblebee didn't mind repeating the odd word. It made certain that Bolo understood everything that was being said, but he was thankful that Bolo was a fast learner and seemed to take this well. Bee was patient with Carbine's glitch, just like Carbine had been patient with Bumblebee's beeping and pissing off his cassette.

--I don't blame him. I bet he doesn't get to be on his own very often, right?-- Bee would question, making idle chatter, mostly due to the fact he was honestly really curious about cassette's and how they worked. Did Bolo have to stay with Carbine for long periods of time? Would it matter if they were apart for long? Could Bolo survive without Carbine? Maybe once they were out of this annoying little room, with the annoying shelves finished, the Helicopter could tell Bumblebee more about Bolo – that is, if they didn't end up killing each other before the shelves were even finished.

As he said 'kill' there was an.. Awkward, prolonged silence after it. Carbine had instantly repeated all the other commands to Bolo, but not this one. The look that Carbine gave Bumblebee made him chuckle nervously, raising one servo to scratch behind his neck as his gaze fell to the floor. Yeah he knew that one wouldn't fly. Still, it was worth a shot.

He didn't intend to actually use the command, but the more he thought about it, it was probably best he didn't know how to tell Bolo to 'kill' – even as a joke – because the cassette would probably take it literally and end up.. Well.. Killing someone. And Bee didn't want that!

He glanced up every now and then during this silence. Carbine was still looking at him judgmentally. Sigh. He'd avert his gaze again until Carbine spoke, coming up with his decision on the matter.

--I was just kidding about that one-- He'd clarify, chuckling again. --I kinda figured he'd know when someone needs protecting, and the level of force to use. I don't wanna say it by mistake and have him attack someone, so yeah, probably best I don't know the exact command! Anyway uh.. Yeah. 'Down' … 'Quiet'..-- Again he spoke the commands slowly, so Carbine and Bolo could both listen to, and understand it.

Bee would nudge at the uneven concrete floor with a pede, optics narrowing into a frown. He could stand around all day teaching Bolo stuff if he had the option to do so, but they did still have a job to do down here. One they technically hadn't even started – as all they'd done was pull some beams off the pallet and stand a couple of them up.

--We should get back to work, huh? Especially now we have the spot welder.-- he sounded saddened by this, the tone of his beeping indicated as much. He still didn't think the spot welder was a good idea, but at least it'd make this task faster.

[Carbine]

"Ehh..."

Carbine wiggled a hand out, the flattened palm tilting one way then the other to pair up with his noncommittal noise. Bolo honestly could meander off sometimes, but most of the time the dog was with his owner. It wasn't like he was trapped with Carbine, but it was a place of comfort to be docked, and there oftentimes wasn't much for the dog to even do to begin with. If there were ample opportunities to play, new things to chew, things to chase and hunt, and interact with on a regular basis? Than Bolo would only dock at night when he slept. But... this was an outpost meant to be a base of operations, not a doggy playpen, and as such he didn’t really find inspiration to snoop around terribly often.

"Work? Ok̴ ̧th̀en, b̨ưt only because you ask-̴as-a͡-inquired nicely there skippy."

The work mode that had been initialized when it was referring to Bolo, seemed to be bleeding away slowly now back to the playful amusement. It wasn't much of a surprise, one task had been something of grave importance to keep Bee safe, and let Bolo remain a free canine, and the other was a mind numbing boring task with impossible directions. Oh well.

Casually, Carbine flicked his hand around to cause the spot-welder to spin around his finger a couple times. He had it hooked into the handle on the top of the apparatus, and while secure and safe from being turned on during this motion, it wasn't the most stable of grips. As such on the third pass the welder popped off of his finger, and went flicking into the air. It only got a couple feet out of his hands, before he panic-snatched it to keep it from being broken.

Bolo perked up when he sensed the pseudo 'adrenaline rush' that surged through his owner, his ears pivoting around to look over. Carbine himself only let out a nervous laugh, before he'd hold the device out for Bee to take.

"Here act͡uall̢y,͟ y͞o̸u͡ do the fusing, I will-will hold s̀tuff͠ together."

He was doing it this way so that Bee would be the one at fault if they merged something together wrong. He could play the ignorant idiot role if he had to, say he just held pieces together and Bumblebee was the brains that decided things had to be welded the way they were. It also was logistical. Carbine couldn't hold two longer beams together, AND weld them in place. He was down here to be the heavy lifting right? So this was smart and for his benefit!

With this in mind, and the machine safely handed over, Carbine walked over to the discarded pipes, and picked up one of the vertical ones.

"Alright, so wh̸àt̶ one goes horizon-tally length wise? I think͡ i͟t͝s thąt th-thing..."

He pointed at one of the longest pipes. It wasn't perfectly square, and had a 'step' to it if looked at from a cross section. The plateau of the step had little holes down its length for bolts to be fed in or something. Carbine had no clue.

[Bumblebee]

Bumblebee's gaze would linger on Bolo for a moment. Part of him wanted to take back the idea of getting back to building the shelves, and ask if he could just play with Bolo for a bit; but they'd been down here long enough – and he was honestly surprised nobody had come to check up on their progress. Then again, with such a “simple” task such as building shelves, everyone probably assumed they'd been done and long since finished by now.

If only!

He couldn't help but smirk under his faceplate as Carbine almost dropped the spot-welder, although that smirk quickly faded as it was offered out to Bumblebee, accompanied by Carbine insisting Bumblebee do the fusing. He gingerly took the tool before it was no doubt thrust at him, and looked down at it in dismay.

--Wait a second, it was your idea to use this.-- He beeped halfheartedly, tilting the tool left and right, peering at it. Then again, Bee would rather use the tool than make any sense of the shredded up booklet – a task he'd given up on long ago.

His gaze would follow where Carbine was pointing, and he'd shrug.

--I dunno. You're gonna have to look at the instructions and work it out, since I'm using the spot welder.--

Anything to get out of trying to make sense of those damned instructions. Except Bumblebee had forgotten one teeny tiny detail. Carbine couldn't read – and that was part of why the stupid instructions had been ripped to shreds in the first place, and why no progress at all had been made on this project.

The awkward silence that followed his comment made him look up at Carbine, head tilted as if silently asking “Well?” - What actually happened was to be expected. An insult hurled Bumblebee's way, some yelling, an argument, Bee almost storming out in a huff, more yelling... Ending with Bumblebee relenting and marching over to pick up the shredded booklet.

He took one look at the instructions, scowled, and moved over to the pipes and beams. From here he would direct Carbine as to what part went where. Turns out when Bumblebee was quietly seething? Things would actually begin to progress quickly. He was focused now, and filled with quiet determination to get these shelves built so he could leave this stupid room.

They made a good team now that they were actually working. Carbine lifted and held the pipes in place, Bumblebee would fuse them together. The only hiccups were the occasional pauses as he tried to make sense of the instructions; the problem being that it didn't make a lot of sense, so he was winging most of this due to his complete lack of caring about these shelves. But it was actually looking okay. Like the start of shelves. They had the bottom part fully finished now, and it was just a case of repeating it a few times over to get the rest of everything built and attaching support beams to the back so the whole thing didn't topple over.

The spot-welder made this a breeze! They would be done in no time at this rate! Maybe the spot-welder was a good idea after all, not that Bee would readily admit that.

Click. Click. Click.

That wasn't a good noise. Bee would squeeze the lever on the spot-welder, but nothing happened. Just a sad little click. He'd squeeze it again as if somehow it'd magically start working again.

Click. Click. Click.

Rather than try and work out what was wrong with the thing, Bumblebee sat quiet for a moment and stared down at it in dismay. His optics narrowed into a fierce scowl, squeezing the handle a couple more times. Still nothing. He heaved a tiny hiss of a sigh, before he harshly yanked the thing, forcibly ripping the plug from the wall socket, and then hurling it across the room before Carbine had time to interject with a comment, or an offer to fix the thing. There was a loud clatter and the sound of plastic and metal scraping across concrete as it came to a skidding halt somewhere at the far side of the room. The impact didn't smash it, but it can't have done it any favors.

He was done. So totally done. Beyond done at this point. It was as if the spot-welder breaking was the last straw for the impatient young Scout.

--Eh we don't need that anymore. We got this.-- His tone eerily calm, almost chipper as he moved his servos to his hips, looking over what they'd done so far. Half a shelving unit had been built, and that was the result of mostly winging it. They could work out the rest from here, and surely they could tighten the various bolts by hand if needed – or find a wrench.

--Totally got this. Hold that there a second.-- He would direct, moving over to the pallet and to one of the larger beams, this one clearly went across the back of the shelving unit in an X shape to keep it sturdy, and sure they didn't have the whole thing built up yet, but this would surely help.

There had been a reason that Carbine had been the one doing the heavy lifting – Bumblebee didn't realize just quite how heavy these beams were. The much smaller Mech would let out a huff and a grumble as he began lifting the beam. Being above asking for help, he would stagger backwards with it as the weight almost toppled him. More struggling as he made an attempt to hoist it up onto his shoulder.

He would stagger back further, turning with it quickly. What he hadn't accounted for was the height of the beam as he struggled with it, and the height of Carbine as he knelt next to the shelves. As he turned? There was an almighty smack which made Bumblebee freeze in his tracks.

Metal beam? Meet Carbine's head.

[Carbine]

Carbine wanted to slap the stupid out of Bumblebee, but then he wasn't sure there would be anything left. It is because of this he replied with an overly sarcastic retort that bordered along the line of 'Oh yes, I will read the instructions, how about when we are done with this we make a set of stairs for wheeled cargo jacks?' among other offensive commentary. Luckily it all moved on fast, and they actually got to work.

No longer being the center of attention once the two got on task, Bolo trotted around and sniffed every inch of the room. Occasionally the canine walked over to sniff a beam Carbine may have picked up, or to get a quick head pat from Bee, but that got boring rather fast, and so the Cassette strolled over to the side where the empty pallets had been lain. Without a care in the world, Bolo crawled on top of the pile of wood and splinters, settling down to watch, or take a nap.

The entire process was honestly going well, and a lot of the silliness had bled away as a rhythm was gained. It seemed if the two could become mature for five seconds, than they were a pretty decent team, for the partly constructed shelf was very solid and would easily be able to hold Cybertronian cargo weight. But then the tool broke, and Carbine let out a slow sigh.

The thrown object instantly caught Bolo's attention, who watched it fling across the room. Like a hound on a mission the dog kicked out of his wooden bed, causing the boards to splinter from the force behind it so that he could chase down the spot welder and grab it fiercely in his mouth. Giving it a few violent head shakes, Bolo would turn and start to trot back at a leisurely pace, only to halt with what happened.

Carbine just watched Bumblebee with an unamused look. What did the kid think he was doing? He was holding the beam really wrong and off balanced, so the torque of gravity was going to make it even more difficult to lift. He was thinking about commenting upon this, pointing out the flaw, or just telling Bee to drop it so he could get it, but he could only watch in dumbfounded dismay.

That was when the beam swung at him.

He didn't really see it coming, no, it had spun far too fast and swiped around to bash into his helm with its full velocity. Carbine only really remembered seeing Bee struggling, and then a sharp pain screeching through his lines like an electric fire. He instantly let go of the posts he was holding onto, which slammed into the ground with an almighty bang. One of the posts gored into the concrete before toppling over like a felled tree. Carbine himself, had lurched to the side, his helm down and torso twisted in the direction he had been struck.

Bolo was alert then, his helm raised and ears upright, staring down Bumblebee with daggers and awaiting orders. He had no proof that this was an intentional attack, but it sure seemed not good all things considered.

Thankfully, Carbine was just fine. The hit had hurt, it really did, but no worse for wear in the long run and it didn’t feel like anything important had jostled loose. It is because of this, shock and alarm flared instantly to anger, as he snapped back upright to glare at Bumblebee. A new dent could now be seen on his helmet then, where the white paint was scraped clean to show the underlying silver.


"T̝̗̖̺ͣ̆h͘-̶̘̹͖͎͉̓̿̍ť̖͓͉̪͚h̞̥̭̤̭̲͉̐ͬ̾̃͌͐͌-̬͔̜͎̍ͧt̡̤͓̰͒ͣ͐̚ͅͅh͆̉ͦ̑͊ ̲̮̰ͬ̅̓̆̈́K̴͔̻̘̤͓͚͋̀͆̊̆ͅZ̝̣͍̥̏̿̐ͤͭͬͅK͈̺̈̍Ǩ̢̤͈̳̭͍T̗̖̮̻̭͔̻̐̅͑͆̀ͪ̚Ţ̻͙̫͕̳̜̻̉̄ͫ̿̒l̘̆̏͒ͨǐ͕̹͍̤̻̓̈̽́̈́̀t̖̙̠ͨ̈́̎ͬ̋t͚͎̝̝ͩ̌̈́-ͤͨt͔͖̥̤̝͒͐ͦ͟ͅl͋̒ͮ͏̜͎̼̪̻̺ḙ͙ͨ͆̎̓ͥ̓ ̏͟ZK̗̞͍͆͊̋̓T̬̪̘ͯ͐̾͊̓̚͢!̫̹̬͈̫ͨͬ͊́?̳̙̩̻̮̥̔!"


The yell was... hardly words. It was a thing, a noise, a blaring roar of static that shuddered out through his ragged systems. Pitches of attempted words were thrown in, but it wasn't recognizable, a clunking churn like a rock in a dryer underlying the higher screeches as Bolo flung into angry barking that echoed around the area. Carbine seemed to recognize this the second after he yelled, his optics widening a bit in momentary fear, before remembering that this would eventually fix itself with auto repair, but a strike like this may take some time before he can function fully.

There was a sudden transformation sound, and Carbine's riot armor engaged.

Heavy panels of metal snapped up and slid over his front, shielding the exposed joints that could be used as a weak point in an attack. This was all the warning that Bumblebee got, before the larger mech started to charge at him with full determined force. Each footfall slammed down to propel him harder, gaining momentum with a roar of his engine. He was going to tackle Bumblebee to the ground if the little scout wasn't fast enough.

[Bumblebee]

The moment the beam made impact with Carbine's head? Bumblebee wished time would stop. And for a few fleeting, panic, and terror filled moments? It did. Or, at least it seemed to. He watched in slow motion as the posts that Carbine were holding fell and clattered to the ground, the noise echoing around the room loudly, almost deafeningly, when everything else seemed to be horribly silent.

He stood, frozen. Beam still against Carbine's head. His arms trembling from the weight; his arms were already weak, and he shouldn't have been lifting heavy things to begin with. This was why. This was oh so why. It wasn't like he knew. It wasn't like he knew he'd swing and smack Carbine! This was an accident. It wasn't his fault. It...

...He couldn't take the weight of the beam anymore, his shaking arms giving out and dropping it with an equally loud clatter and bang. Then time seemed to catch up to Bee all too quick just as Carbine rose upright and stared him down. He suddenly felt very small. And very scared. He noted the dent on the other Mech's helm, it was hard not to. But he found himself being unable to look away from Carbine's glare, at least for now.

Both servos raising up in a defensive position, just like they had earlier with Bolo. His arms were still trembling, and it hurt to lift them. He didn't want to seem smug or like he'd done this on purpose by shaking them out; that normally fixed any issues with his arms, and at least gave some feeling back into the limbs. So he stood. Frozen to the spot in fear, and in pain. Not as much pain as Carbine probably felt, however.

His gaze shifted at the movement across the room, helm turning just slightly to look at Bolo. Oh Primus no.. The last thing he wanted was for Bolo to think he'd done that on purpose. He knew that look, and knew that the dog was mad at him. A million thoughts rushed through his processor – although any and all thoughts of what he could even begin to say to apologize, to make this right, were halted by the..

What even was that noise?

It caught him off guard, and Bolo angrily barking alongside his master? Bee didn't know what to do. He wasn't aware of Carbine's glitch. He didn't know this would happen. He was terrified. Field radiating fear, panic, and a whole lot of DO NOT WANT.

As he heard the second noise, the more familiar noise of transforming? He took a shaky step backwards. Servos still held up.

--I didn't.. I...--

He couldn't even finish the sentence, he couldn't think of what to say, and the words he did manage to stammer out? The beeps were tiny and deflated. He was dead. He was so dead.

Time did that thing again where it seemed to slow down due to the sheer terror that Bee currently felt. Carbine was charging at him. Bee willed his legs to move. He could easily sidestep this. He could easily get out the way. He was fast. Faster than Carbine. But he just couldn't move. Carbine was getting closer. Each footfall echoed loudly. MOVE, LEGS. MOVE.

Bee took a step back. His frame and legs co-operating with him finally.

But it was too late, much too late. There was the painful clashing of metal on metal as Carbine again slammed into Bumblebee, this time with a lot more force than before. His first instinct was to reach out and scramble to cling onto Carbine as they fell. And fall they did. The momentum from Carbine's charge and the crash tackle that followed meant Bumblebee went skidding painfully across the rough concrete floor of the storeroom for a few meters.

There was a painful noise as some of the shiny yellow finish was scraped away from Bee's back as they skidded. At least this would match the tiny scrapes he'd received on his chassis earlier today, although these ones hurt a lot more; and would no doubt be deeper scratches - due to the sheer force behind this tackle.

--I DIDN'T MEAN TO!-- He finally managed to squawk out, the beeps frantic. He really, honestly thought that Carbine was about to end him. The thought of an apology didn't even cross his processor from this awkward position on the floor; all he could do was stare up at Carbine, optics wide, servos still clinging awkwardly to the helicopter as they came to a stop. He hadn't gotten a chance to shake his arms, so as such didn't have the strength to even attempt to push the helicopter off him.

[Carbine]

Bee's attempts at words were completely useless. They couldn't translate; they didn’t break past the damage in his helm to concoct actual phrases. All that Carbine heard coming from him was static and noise, paired with a prickling tingle at the side of his processor that wasn't very pleasant to deal with. It was that just more incentive for him to do what he had done, not that he really needed Bee to antagonize him more for him to do what he was trying to do.

Carbine clutched onto Bee the moment they made contact, and was intent to ride out the full momentum of the slam until they could both come to a solid rest on the ground. He could hear the squeal of metal, and the beeping sounds the other mech was making, but it didn’t really deter him. He felt confident in his ability at the moment, especially since the scout's hands were trying to find purchase on the smoother front armors of his frame. The riot armor did well to help deflect any grappling hands from shoving between a joint and tearing at wires, though... Bee's hands were small... who knows.

When Bumblebee yelled something up at him Carbine wrenched back in frustration and confusion. His optics squinted into a sort of scowling look, while helm crooked to the side as a 'tell' for his inability to understand the words. The yelling caused the prickling sensation in his helm to buzz louder during its duration, giving an weird feeling of something nipping at the cables running down the back of his neck.

Deep down, tiny spoken and tucked away in a far corner of his processor, Carbine knew Bumblebee didn't intend to do it. He knew it was a mistake, and the little meek voice pointed it out. He should forgive! He should forget! This was one of his new teammates and they had to get along! However... in contrast the much stronger and louder 'afthole' part screamed common decency be damned, and to get physical revenge for the pain and inconvenience he was just put through.

To pair with this damning conclusion, Carbine let out another screaming static noise, before he wrenched his hands down to clutch beneath the yellow flares of the scout's chest armor. When he got a firm grip, his legs rammed down on either side of him, before he wrenched Bee up into the air.

Much like Bee himself, Carbine's shoulder joints weren't exactly stellar. They ached, they were worn, they were built to be replaced like tinker toys to keep the police force in fighting shape, but... there hasn't been a police force to staple in new gear for centuries. Alas, he tried to manage, struggling a moment to heft Bumblebee up off the ground before he settled on letting his arms hang straight and using his legs to lift by which were significantly stronger. With this pull he lifted Bee into the air, and did what before he opted not to do.

Sliding a leg out for balance, Carbine twisted his posture and wrenched his frame sharply to the right. This lurching motion started the momentum that he carried into a full spin, before he flung his arms forward, and subsequently Bee into a throw. All of the momentum garnered from the moment he started to turn, then hurled the little scout...

...directly at the half constructed shelves.

[Bumblebee]

Bumblebee was in a world of pain, and major confusion. The sensors in his arms were screaming at him to shake them loose – but he refused to let go of his grip on Carbine – what little grip he had, anyway. He wasn't even sure why he'd grabbed onto the other Mech – it was done purely out of instinct. To take Carbine down with him, which was a silly thought now he actually questioned it because Carbine had tackled him, and was going down anyway. He certainly hadn't done it with any intention of grabbing at wires or trying to cause any internal harm. He hadn't thought that far ahead. He wasn't that malicious.

At least not yet.

He noted Carbine's helm tilt, and it didn't register that it was because the helicopter had no idea what Bee was even squawking at him. At this point he thought it was a gesture done to silently mock him. Carbine was above him, looming down. Head tilted silently as if calling Bumblebee a moron. Proclaiming his victory over the Scout without saying a word. That had to be what it was.

Then came another staticy scream that made Bumblebee flinch. His optics widened as he felt Carbine's servos scrambling to take hold of his armor.

--H-Hey! Wait! What the frag are you..Ghn!--

Bumblebee didn't curse often, if at all. He was above that, and with him being around the kids so much? He didn't want to be seen as a bad influence. That and he didn't want Optimus or the other higher ups to think less of him for resorting to such words. But to hell with that right now, Carbine could go frag himself! He was cut off mid sentence as he was wrenched upwards, servos pried from what little hold he had on the helicopter as he did. The jerking motion as Carbine used his legs to lift caught him by surprise, and it took him a moment to realize what was happening.

Slag.

He squirmed, not that it did much good – Carbine had already began shifting his position. Bumblebee knew what was coming, and he could do nothing to stop it from up here; all he could do was brace himself for the impact that was no doubt seconds away.

--I FRAGGIN' TOLD YA I DIDN'T FRAGGIN' MEAN TO DO IT, YA MORON!!--

Yelling most certainly wouldn't help things, but he yelled anyway. Carbine twisted, lurched, and flung Bee forwards.

It was a rather graceful second and a half of weightlessness as he flew, only for it to end in the blink of an optic and a loud, painful crash. It was a direct hit and Bumblebee flew straight into the half constructed shelves, toppling them and landing awkwardly on top. He landed on his back, sprawled over the shelves. His helm hung back over the side of the shelves, arms and legs limp at his sides.

He could lay like this forever, staring up at the ceiling. Various sensors pinging at him in protest because he hurt. Everywhere hurt. If he just lay still, maybe things would be okay. Maybe Carbine would calm down and stop freaking out...

...Except that would be stupid, and then Carbine would win. The pain he felt was quickly overtaken and drowned out by rage. It flooded his field and his gaze snapped to stare at Carbine, optics narrowed. He was furious. He took this brief moment of painful downtime to shake out his arms, before he made an awkward fumbled attempt at pushing himself off the shelves.

He had to get him back. But how. A charge toward him would be obvious. He'd be backhanded mid-stride, or taken out by Bolo on his way over. His processor shifting into overdrive as he thought. He had to act quickly, before Carbine tried something else.

A distraction.

He tilted his helm left and right, as if cracking his neck, before bending down and picking up a beam. This time he picked it up correctly and didn't struggle or stagger. It still hurt, the sensors in his arms would begin to scream at him once more, but he ignored them. Hoisting it up onto his shoulder with a wince, he would begin to charge – yelling as he did.

He was about halfway back to Carbine, when he would stop mid run, attention snapping past the helicopter and looking at the doorway.

--O-Optimus sir!-- he stammered, quickly easing the beam from his shoulder and onto the floor. He'd stand up straight, doing a sharp salute at the doorway behind Carbine.

He hoped that'd be enough. His beeping sounded frantic and apologetic, like he had panicked at being caught in the middle of something he really shouldn't be doing. His voice genuine and full of worry; like Optimus was really standing right there watching the pair. If he could just get Carbine to fall for it...

...Carbine started to turn, and Bumblebee would quickly bend down to scoop up the beam once more. It all happened so fast; he began charging as Carbine swiveled around to salute 'Optimus' – and before Carbine could even work out or realize that it'd been a trick, Bee would be upon him. Carbine hadn't turned fully, but that was alright – he'd turned enough to not see what was about to hit him.

Bumblebee planted the end of the beam down onto the concrete, using that as leverage to push himself forwards; pole-vaulting with both legs out in a sharp, painful kick toward Carbine's lower back, at least the area that'd been exposed to Bumblebee, what with Carbine not turning fully. The momentum from the lunge, and the sheer pain from where Carbine was struck made the helicopter stumble forwards – with Bee riding it out and quickly shifting to sit on Carbine's lower back. The beam clattering onto the floor behind him somewhere as it finally toppled.

--FRAG YOU!--

He'd reach down to smack the back of Carbine's helm harshly with a curled fist, knowing he probably didn't have long before he was thrown off. He may have had the upper hand right now but it wouldn't last. Servos moving to yank harshly at what he could see of the helicopters rotors in a feeble attempt to cause Carbine as much pain as Bumblebee currently felt.

Or at least would feel.

There was no way this would end well for either of them.

[Carbine]

The damage to the shelves may have been upsetting to someone with half a processor to understand the lost time and effort, but Carbine didn't really have that much brainpower to spare. He didn't equate the crashing bag with anything other than victory, and could not see it for the lost hour and a half they have been struggling down here like children trying to force a square peg into the circle hole.

The only thing he recognized was a victory.

Rolling his shoulders back in their sockets, Carbine flexed his spine a bit and stretched the armor that was folded up in front of him. The riot armor creaked a bit, still settling from his repairs after his bad interaction with a Decepticon's grenade, but it was sturdy and held its shape as to be expected. Despite the creaking it would serve its purpose, and be able to take anything Bee would send at him unless the scout were to try some dirty tricks or pull out an in-mounted gun.

Carbine started to take a couple steps forward as Bumblebee recovered, his white tipped fingers flaring out before crunching down into firm fists. He was geared and ready to fight back, and an eerie calmness showed in his steps. The ex-cop had every desire and intent to put Bee down to the ground, and keep him there, to show him who was the top dog here, and that seniority on the team meant nothing in this situation. He even let out a scoff of a sound when he saw bee pick up the beam.

"W̴ha̷͠-t͏ ͘d̀͏o̕ ͝kzz̵z̢͟t͏ţ͠͠-̷i̷͢n͜k͡ yo̧kt̷̨͡k̴͡te͞ ̨́g͢P͞O͘͜P͢͝͡i̛n̶͘͠g͟ ̧t̴̨҉o̧ ̀͝k̡͜z̷z͝tţ͘z͞͏̕z͢͞a̢t̛!̕?̨͘͞"

The abomination of static and broken words were mirthful and amused, daring Bumblebee to actually use that pole of metal as a weapon again. He wondered how the runt intended to use it too. Would he try to bash him with it like a club? Or would he dare to get savage enough to use it as a javelin and try to gain enough force for it to spear? Ah well, Carbine saw it, and was ready, his stride halting and stance shifting to be more defensive, ready to counter whatever Bee would do... but... things changed.

Carbine's tank dropped violently, his eyes widening and rotors flicking up. His alarm and fear at what he just saw Bumblebee do, even affected Bolo who was off to the side barking aggressively. The canine's helm snapped upright, ears post straight and eyes vibrantly illuminated in secondhand shock. It was with this, that the helicopter fell for the trick hook-line-and-sinker.

Recognizing the noises from Bee as passive, and the salute, Carbine straightened up and spun about on his heel. He did not turn his back completely to Bumblebee, he didn't like his back facing anyone, but he turned enough to swing an arm up and salute the doorway where some leader figure should be at the moment.

There wasn't.

By the time Carbines processor stuck two and two together, there was a loud bang of the beam hitting the ground that seemed to make time slow down for him. He began turning back, helm held high, optics wide and round in fear, forearm starting to raise in hope to block what was to come, but it was all too little too late as the scout rammed into him full force with enough power to nearly launch him off of his own feet.

Slender legs cut the air in a few stumbled steps, attempting to catch his balance and counter the momentum and new weight that was lobbed onto his center of gravity. The efforts were futile however, as his triangular ped gouged against the concrete in one mis-step that made him topple over like a felled tree. The impact of him hitting the ground on his chest and forearm was loud, the riot armor clattering with the bang.

To add insult to injury, Bumblebee actually punched him in the helm again.

The helmet he wore nullified a lot of the actual impact, but it still stung, and it still agitated his injury the beam from before had created. It made the sounds around him blur to static momentarily, before settling back to the ambiance hum that was normal. Though, this was far from normal.

Carbine was lying down on the ground, his right arm curled in front of his chest to try to catch his fall, while left was held out with palm flat against the flooring below for stability. His field rippled in a violent miasma of anger, rage, and a healthy dash of fear to know that Bumblebee was on his back, effectively straddling his lower spine. The fear was muddled under all of the anger, but it was there, pointed and sharp, like a blade that was cutting through everything else.

The ex-cop had many reasons to dislike his back being at someone, and being messed with. It most importantly, was a vulnerable point of weakness. When Bolo isn't docked, he effectively does not have much by means of armor there. He has what is needed to keep debris out of the majority of his internals, but the armor is thin, to be able to fold out of the way when the canine wants to dock in place. This left each of the segments of his spine visible, the interlocking panels of metal making a flowing line up to the back of his helm. Framed on either side, were large vents, and other intricate parts including two holes right inside where his rotors mounted which were where Bolo's paws were to socket in when he docked.

There was a lot that could be damaged here if Bumblebee truly wanted to, but thankfully he opted to pull on Carbine's rotor posts, which was... weird... and the mech didn't know how to react to. The rotors were new here on earth, for he had been a hover-car beforehand, which meant that he hasn't really had much time to experience them and get used to them fully. This right here? Was a lifetime first for him, and his clunking processor was trying to figure out if it was an annoyance, or if it really did hurt as it pulled on the narrow beams that supported the flared panels.

The rotors themselves splayed out a bit in Bee's grasp, draping down to have their ends scrape along the ground below. Thankfully, Carbine didn't need to do much of anything, for Bolo had seen quite enough and took a nice big chunk out of his Master's anger and fear to act on his own.

The police hound was upon Bumblebee in a second, his charge so fast it nearly teleported him to the yellow mech's side with how close to one another they had already been. Bolo didn't exactly have the kindness in his spark however to pull punches, or go half way because the other was an Autobot. To him? Bumblebee was a foe who was actually trying to hurt his Master. This yellow mech, who was so kind and nice before once the misunderstanding was fixed, was HURTING his Master and that wasn't acceptable in any way.

With a slam, Bolo's paws rammed into Bee's back, before a large maw clamped down hard onto one of Bumblebee's door-wings, threatening to compress and crimp until the metal buckled and he got a grip that bordered a complete lock into place. He had no intention of letting go, unless Bee's wing was to rip completely out of its socket. It is because of this, Bolo began jerking and pulling back with snarled growls, the rubber traction of his paws squealing and leaving scuffs of black as he wrenched. The dog was putting his all into this, his tiny little spark filled with protective rage.

[Bumblebee]

Once things calmed down – if they calmed down – Bumblebee would probably be horrified at what'd happened to the shelves which they'd put so much effort into, they'd no doubt been broken beneath him when he was flung. It was sad. They'd worked so well as a team, and for a few short moments things were looking good. Sure they'd had a rocky start, but once they both worked together? It turned out they could achieve great things.

Sadly Bumblebee's processor was elsewhere right now, so he could care less about the fraggin' shelves - and he let out a beepy war-cry of a scream as he furiously yanked on Carbine's rotors as hard as he possibly could. The helicopter might've found it an odd move, but Bumblebee knew how much it hurt to have his door wings tugged on – so he was hoping it hurt just as much as that. The scraping noise as they were dragged along the floor was satisfying, but he refused to let go.

He wasn't intending to snap them – that could get him in way too much trouble – but he wanted to almost dislocate them from their sockets, or bend them horribly at the very least. Adrenaline was fueling him, that, and the rage that had built up over such a short period of time during the process of building the shelves. It'd been one stupid thing after another, with a brief moment of calm because of Bolo, and now this. An accident had led to an all out war. This eruption of anger was NOT his fault. He'd snapped at being accused. The young Scout had an explosive temper, and Carbine was experiencing it first hand.

Luckily for Carbine though, Bumblebee was directing most of that rage into the wrong place. Sure the rotors would hurt, but he could be doing so much more if he just stopped to think about it. He was unaware the ex-cop didn't like showing his back to others, nor had he worked out the most delicate parts of Carbine's armor were on his back.

Things were going pretty well. Carbine so far had made no attempts to shove him off.

But Bumblebee had forgotten one tiny detail.

A detail that.. Well, wasn't so tiny when compared to him. One that had four legs and was very, very angry at him.

Speaking of exposing your back to someone...? All Bumblebee felt was a painful thud as two large, powerful paws slammed into him from behind. The impact made him squawk out and double over. The force pushing him forwards. Which.. Worked out well if only for the briefest of moments. Bee's elbow lining up nicely with one of the exposed vents on Carbine's back.

Then in the blink of an optic he felt himself yanked backwards harshly. Holy Primus that HURT. He'd severely underestimated just how strong Bolo was. There was a reason he was wary of the canine earlier, and now he was finding out exactly why.

He felt the jaws clamp down on his door wing, and would immediately release his grip on Carbine's rotors. Attempts were made at rotating his upper half to try and elbow Bolo off and away, but he couldn't seem to angle himself to twist that far. Not that he'd ever want to hurt Bolo, but instinct kicked in and he wanted him to stop clamping down on his sensitive door wing.

--LEAVE IT! DOWN! OFF! OFF! BOLO OFF! DOWN!!-- He shrieked, the beeping panicked as he was now very much in pain. Maybe the commands that he'd taught Bolo earlier would work. Doubtful. Very doubtful.

It didn't work.

Bumblebee didn't want to lose the door from his back, and so would half-allow himself to be dragged backwards, if only to relieve some of the tension and strain of being pulled back by the delicate limb. His field continued to project anger and rage, with a hint of confusion and worry. He couldn't call for help from anyone, nor did he really want to. He had a sense of pride. Plus he wasn't a tattle-tale, and there was the issue of him getting into trouble for this too.

--GET HIM OFF ME!--

He still hadn't worked out that Carbine couldn't understand a word he said at this point, but hopefully the terrified beeps would be enough.

[Carbine]

Ok yeah no, he decided. This hurt.

A lot.

Once the pieces of confusion clicked and flicked out of the way, Carbine's processor caught up with himself and he started to yell in pain at having his rotors pulled on like they were. The posts were deeply rooted into his frame, attached to many moving parts that allowed them to fold out of the way, and flare apart to not hit Bolo. They also transitioned into some very valuable bits and pieces when he turned into a helicopter... namely... the bits that you know... make him fly...

All this added up in a way to make Bumblebees pulling and aggression the opposite end of enjoyable. The second this started to click, he rammed his weight down onto his open palm, and pushed his other arm down to start to rock himself up enough to try to slide a knee beneath him. He didn't get very far however, Bolo thankfully coming to the rescue so he didn't have to try to imitate some awkward rodeo situation by launching to his feet and spinning to throw Bee off of him.

However...

The impact pushed Bee forward, and an elbow ground itself hard into his back.

A gargled cry ripped out instantly as the edge of Carbine's vent was slammed into, and a couple of the slats that can open and close to regulate ventilation became bent, looking like someone had let a cat get to their blinds. It hurt a good deal, and caused hot air to instantly plume out in a hard huff of a cough, while his engines roared into action to go into a fight or flight mode.

Meanwhile, Bolo was not taking any prisoners in this adventure.

When the canine is given a task out on the field, he knew how to pull his punches at any given moment. If he is told to disarm, he knows to bite at the forearm or hand, or if the weapon is big enough to slam his jaws into that. If he is told to restrain, he can latch on and turn into dead weight, biting only hard enough that he can't be torn off with ease. He knew how strong his jaws were to some extent, and knew that not everything needed extreme force.

This was not that situation.

Attacking out of impulse and desire more than working or doing what he was told, Bolo's clamping jaws that were comparable to the 'Jaws of Life' were steadily compressing down with progressive amounts of power and force behind them. The immense hydraulic that fueled the action could be heard working, and the replaced throat pipe that held the fluid to the mechanism was being put to the test.

Sadly, Ratchet's work on the dog didn't fail, which meant that he was giving it his all to try to tear Bumblebee off of his Master who was in pain, even more so after Bolo began helping. The dogs pulling only made Bee pull harder on Carbine's back for a moment, and one of the rotors let out a loud clunk before the scout let go and was focused on trying to salvage his tiny doors from being decimated.

The commands from Bumblebee all barked out to deaf ears, and Bolo wasn't hearing any of it. Oh sure, he understood the words, and he may have faltered momentarily, but Bumblebee had lost such privileges once he hurt his Master, and he was keen to get him back and off of the larger mech. It is because of this Bolo pulled and hefted, dragging Bee backwards on the concrete until Carbine was able to slip free and pull himself upright with a limped wobble.

Veering around face, Carbine seemed disoriented and thrown off kilter momentarily, his cutting long legs slicing through the air with a stumbled step before he regained his balance and started to charge forward. He couldn't understand Bumblebee, but he knew distress when he heard it, and he knew this was a fight between him and the runt, not Bolo. While Bolo was a part of him, and very much a piece of him like an arm and a leg, he didn't want the dog to get in trouble. To save the dog from being MORE of a part, he sent out a sharp command though their link, while he swiftly approached the Scout. Thankfully, it was registered BEFORE Bolo started to shake his helm to try to rip the wing off.

Bolo may not have wanted to stop, but he did when the sharp order fed through the unspoken link that connected them. The spark bond was strong since they were created together, and the request was as clear as day and beat him upside the head when it came through like a hammer. With a crinkle of metal, Bolo let go, and danced backwards a few paces, the panels on his back raised, and lights on his body a bold red color that grazed over the nearby black armor. He still growled, but he was no longer in the fray, not permitted to attack or fight any longer. Luckily these commands were still clear, despite everything else Carbine said or did being broken beyond measure.

Carbine wanted blood, and the moment that Bolo let go and was clear, he swung his long leg up and around for a sharp kick at Bumblebee's shoulder. Hey, if he hit the scouts head he wouldn't complain, but... he knew better than to aim deliberately at such a point, less he get into some serious trouble for trying to murder a teammate... but... Garrus rules were in play as far as he was concerned, and he had to establish some sort of pecking order and not show weakness.

He seemed just generally raged out from his back injury, but it went further than that into distress at losing language skills. If Bee was good at picking up on fields, he could probably taste a healthy dose of fear under all of Carbine's anger. An animal lashing out in violence instead of cowering.