Long Haul arrives from the IHQ Central Chamber to the west.

Long Haul has arrived.

Scrapper is still pondering fabbing options... and where in the world one can build a giant tank and not be obvious about it? Ah, it's not like the old days, where you could just toss up a giant Decepticon symbol and call it a secret base. Yeah, those were the days, when you didn't have to worry about giant city-robots stepping on your poor little cities. Scrapper sits at a desk and taps away a terminal's keyboard intermittently.

You mean back in the days when, if you thought someone else was going to take down your city, you just took it down yourself?

Long Haul clomps in carrying a datapad in one hand and a mug of energon in the other. Despite the fact that it's been several days since the last time he's done any heavy hauling, he's still in a rather bad mood. Why? Well, the last time he got put on light limited there were other things, such as welding, to occupy his times. Things that were more interesting than paperwork. Plus this time around, despite his best efforts (his best efforts involving a lot of yelling and threatening hapless gumbies), he's been watching his own hauling backlog pile up and is now a bit anxious about the amount of work he has waiting for him when he gets back to duty. This isn't hard! Why do these people have such a hard time getting things right?

It is with these things on his mind that Long Haul enters. He scans the room rather quickly and then strides over to the terminal next to the one his brother's using before plopping himself down rather gracelessly in the associated chair.

Yes, those days, slag it all to the pit!

Scrapper is disturbed from his... whatever it is he was doing by Long Haul's arrival. Looking slightly startled, he quickly covers over what he was doing by calling up a different program. Wiring diagrams? Yeah, those are safe. In retrospect, Long Haul probably wouldn't have understood what Scrapper was looking at, anyway, but there's no use in taking chances with him right over there.

No, he wouldn't, and even those damned spaghetti diagrams are a bit hard to follow. Of course, being able to read those things is generally pretty important when it comes to actually building stuff, so he does have an idea of how to, but damn, all those little lines get confusing!

But if Scrapper's acting shifty, Long Haul doesn't noticed, which is more a tribute to Long Haul's inattention than it is to Scrapper's acting abilities. The Constructicon takes a sip from his mug, inserts his datapad into the terminal to transfer the information, and then tilts his head to look at his brother. Then, without further explanation, he demands, "What's taking so long?!"

Scrapper just looks confused, and his shovel twitches a little. What, does Long Haul expect him to be able to read minds? ...Devastator aside... Scrapper leans back in his chair and tilts his head over at Long Haul. Pushing away the urge to blame Hook, because if something is taking a long time, it *has* to be the crane's fault, Scrapper asks bluntly, "What are you talking about?"

"The upgrade!" Long Haul complains, leaning back in his chair (oversized because, like most furniture on the base, it's made for seeker-sized occupants) and crossing his arms, looking rather like a large, metallic, pouting child. "My internal dia-di- alla my inside readings aren't showin' the change yet!"

Wait, wait! Scrapper can still blame this on Hook. Sort of. He taps away at the keyboard and pulls up a different wiring diagram, this one a nightmarish maze of capacitors, resistors, inductors, and Primus knows what else. Scrapper gestures at the screen. "That's Devastator's wiring diagram," and truthfully, the monstrosity on the screen seems to fit the green leviathan, in a twisted fashion - fitting that such a horror should be such a horror inside. "The simplified version. You're part of a very complex machine, Long Haul, and so it only follows that it'll take a while for your upgrade to sort itself out."

Long Haul turns and stares at the diagram. Uhm... guh. Very, very guh. The transporter tilts his head a little to the left, then a little to the right, and still it does him no good. He leans forward, giving the impression that, had he eyes, he'd be squinting them, than pulls back. Tilts his head to the left again. Tilts his head to the right. Still no change. Finally he raises his right hand and points his index finger at the schematical monstrosity in front of him. "That's us?" he asks, not quite sounding like he believes it.

Score! Victory by confusion! Scrapper glances back at the screen, shrugs, and answers, "Most of the significant electrical components. It doesn't go into the details of, oh, how the XORs work and..." He trails off. Yeah, Long Haul doesn't need the details of the XORs, either.

"Wow," Long Haul mutters, leaning back again in his chair and just... staring at the mess on the screen. He reaches over and picks up his mug, taking a long, slow sip of his energon before continuing. "Which part's me?" he asks.

Scrapper pauses. Oh no, he actually has to interpret all this junk? Scrap! He stares blankly at the screen for a moment, trying to collect his bearings, and says quietly, "Uhm... uhm... let's see, those new servos of yours had hex-niner class potentiometers in them, and I don't think any of the rest of us use those, so if I just look for one of that..."

What?! All this time, Long Haul's been trusting Scrapper to KNOW WHAT HE WAS TALKING ABOUT when it came to the technical stuff, and Scrapper's been FAKING it? What a gyp! The transporter tilts his head and looks at his brother out of the corner of his optic band. "You mean... you don't know?"

Scrapper raises his shovel defensively and chides, "I don't have all this memorized! And... it's been a while since I've looked at the combined schematic." Hex nuts, would it have killed them to put intelligible labels on some of this stuff? Scrapper insists, "I can figure it out in a minute."

Long Haul crosses his arms and stares at Scrapper, settling himself in for a wait. He's apparently interested in seeing just how long it'll take Scrapper to figure this all out. "Oh, really?" he challenges.

"Yes! I can!" Scrapper snarls, glaring at the screen. This fiddly little stuff may not be his best area, but blasted if he'll let a wiring diagram defeats him. He places a finger to the screen to trace out the pathways and narrows his optic band, trying to seek out the most dump truckish part of the maze-like mess.

Long Haul falls silent and watches, unknowing, or uncaring, about the fact that having someone stare over one's shoulder makes it just that much harder to read schematics. Besides, at this point he really, really does want some reassurance that the guy who just did his upgrade isn't really just a hack who's managed to somehow put up a very convincing act all these years.

+gtalk 'Like a Surgeon' is playing in my head right now.

Scrapper hunches over the terminal, trying to put some space in between himself and his brother. Why is it that when he knows someone is watching, his finger tends to slip, meaning he has to start all over again? Scrapper looks back and scowls over his shoulder at Long Haul. "Do you mind?"

Long Haul looks over at Scrapper, head tilted again in confusion. "Huh? No... no I don't." Granted, he doesn't know what it is that he's supposed to mind, or not mind, or whatever, but whatever it is, he's sure he doesn't. It is important to note that he's not hovering over Scrapper's shoulder, but watching intently none-the-less, although he does take his attention off his brother for long enough to pick up his mug and take another sip from his mug.

Scrapper still wants more space, anyway. He's not a performance artist, and he doesn't do wiring schematic reading tricks for the amusement of audiences. So... right... hex-niner potentiometers. Is that one? No, that's a hex-niner capacitor... argh.

Long Haul takes another sip as he continues to stare at the screen. Then he instead turns to stare at the back of Scrapper's head. Then he looks back up at the screen. Then he looks at the back of Scrapper's head. Then, without further explanation, he repeats the question that started this all. "What's taking so long?!" he demands.

Scrapper cringes. Oh, he almost had it, he's sure! His visor roves the screen, desperately trying to refind that solitary identifying potentiometer. Is it there? Scrapper thiiiinks so, but he can't be sure. He plants a finger firmly in that spot, though. Here's to approximations. "There. That's you."

Long Haul tilts his head in bafflement. "Uhm... that?" he asks, more confused and uncertain than actually disbelieving. He turns his head and looks at Scrapper for confirmation.

Scrapper circles his finger around the general vicinity of that point. He nods and confirms, "Yeah, that's you. See, this part," he points it out, finger moving across the screen, "controls the hydraulics on your dump bed." Well, it might, if Scrapper has read the diagram correctly.

Long Haul accepts this. Now, if Scrapper had continued to point at the same spot he might have argued on the basis that there should probably be, well, more of him, but since Scrapper did the circly thing, why, that works for Long Haul. "Oh, okay," the transporter says, now completely content with both Scrapper's explanation for why his upgrade is taking so long and that Scrapper actually DOES have a clue to what he's doing. Poor, trusting Long Haul. The Constructicon turns back to his own terminal and gets to work. "Thanks for answerin' my questions."

Scrapper may be absent-minded, overly artistic, and criminally negligent at times, but he does know his stuff when he gets down to it. It's not his technical abilities about which his patients should worry. Scrapper looks at Long Haul oddly, shovel flicking back and forth a bit. He says finally, "Uh... no problem."

Long Haul vanishes out of reality.

Long Haul has left.