Chapter Text
There was a distinct odor of resin, acrylics, and a certain artificial dye that couldn’t have been picked up by any normal sensor. The entire sparring room reeked of paint, and Wheeljack—visiting for the day, mainly due to some issues with the Jackhammer—had immediately caught onto it the moment he got a whiff of it.
He had followed the trail back to its source, and had been taken aback by how..well, ridiculously it was.
Bulkhead—who Wheeljack hadn’t seen until now, he recalls—flat on his backstruts. Spread out with the most relaxed expression he’s seen the mech carry in a long while. On top of his chassis, a little human fem whipped her head back towards the sound of approaching pedesteps. Their smallest Wrecker had splotches of paint all over her cheeks and helm fibers—hair, Wheeljack corrected internally.
Across the green plating were what Wheeljack could only describe as scribbles. Semi-permanent scribbles, if the paint cans balancing alongside Miko were anything to go by. Bulkhead seemed all too comfortable to give his fellow mech a proper greeting, opting for a wiggle of his digits instead.
“Wheeljack!” Miko beamed, jumping to her feet, and scurrying over Bulkhead’s chassis till she was somewhat closer to the mech—without actually leaving her elevated place. It wasn’t exactly a drop Wheeljack would want her to attempt, anyway. Behind her were imprints of bright, neon pink marks from her boots.
Wheeljack snorted, crouching down towards the girl, and gesturing to Bulkhead with a nod of his helm, “What’s all this?”
“A passion project!” She replied, as if that explained everything. Bulkhead tapped the floor with his digit, emitting a small ‘thunk’ that caught the Wrecker’s attention.
“Shes painting. Needed a bigger ‘canvas.’ Ratchet didn’t want to make a mess, and risk messing up the groundbridge’s circuits.”
Wheeljack’s vocalizers gave a whirl of confirmation, a hum following shortly after as he rose. He stepped around Bulkhead, admiring the doodles of everything from organic felines, to human skeleton structures, to a drawing of himself. Miko had settled herself back down in her circle of paint cans by the time Wheeljack came back around to Bulkhead’s side.
The mech’s paneling gave a squeak as he maneuvered himself to the floor, gesturing to Miko with a ‘grabby’ outstretched servo.
“Hand me that bristled stick.”
“Jackie..” Bulkhead groaned, but made no move to escape whatever the mech had in mind. Instead, he just thunked his helm against the ground, chassis deflating as his vents exhaled a heavy gust of hot air. Miko giggled as her hair whipped with the sudden breeze.
The girl shuffled for the stick—a paintbrush, she had corrected—and placed it in Wheeljack’s servo. Despite it being dwarfed by his digits, he balanced it gently between his pointer and thumb. When he turned back to Miko, she was already holding up a large can of red paint.
Wheeljack grinned, his finials giving a satisfied glow as he dipped the bristles into the paint.
“Thanks, kid. Now, what’re we thinking?”
“Something cool! Like..an explosion!”
“Primus, you two..”
Of course, Wheeljack didn’t expect to leave the room without any markings himself. At least he was able to bribe Miko into making sure his were, as she would put it, ‘sick as Hell.’