Prowling Around

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A giant drill tank rolls from the gravlift and immediately transforms into Quickswitch's robot mode. A grim and determined expression dominates his features. It looks like he's heading for Prowl's office.
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Prowl was just heading back there himself, after having given a few training talks at the Academy. He notices Quickswitch as he arrives at the door, arching an optic ridge at him. "Yes, Quickswitch? You wanted to speak with me?" Opening the door to his office, he steps inside, inviding the six-changer in as well.

Quickswitch marches toward the door of Prowl's office. "I do," he responds curtly, apparently in a less talkative mood. He enters, his brow furrowing as he regards the Autobot second-in-command, "Rumors are starting to spread about my release from stasis. There are those who have asked me about it," the assault unit adds, "I would like to know the reason you and Wheeljack released me, then instructed me to conceal the truth." He looks around the office, cold optics finally resting on Prowls own.

Prowl's face remains expressionless as he regards the six-changer calmly. The door to the office slides shut behind them softly before he replies. "I told you," he says evenly. "Wheeljack and I believe that we have come up with a potential solution to your emotional instability. It holds enough promise to be worth a shot. He wasn't able to convince Prime of it, but I have confidence in his ability." Then his expression softens just a little bit. "Besides, I sincerely believe you deserve a chance, Quickswitch...I have to admit, I didn't think you would question this sort of opportunity."

The corners of Quickswitch's mouth turn upward, then downward as he listens to Prowl speak, "I... don't mention this to many," and he probably shouldn't be mentioning it to Prowl, "but my problems, I think they go further than emotional instability... I feel... splintered. Many voices, all saying they're Quickswitch," he touches a digit to his chin and his optics dim a moment, "My thoughts, they change so entirely, I--I--" he struggles, "I get confused." he looks up again, brightening, "Thank you for the vote of confidence, sir. At least somebody believes in me."

"Emotional instability, or instability in general." Prowl says dismissively. "As I said, what you need is more focus. You need to let the most effective traits take control. Let them dominate the others. And I believe that I've come up with a way to help you do that. Unfortunately Prime doesn't think it's worth the effort. He has a lot of other issues to deal with. But I do." So many lies. But fortunately, lying is one thing Prowl is excellent at. "And so does Wheeljack. He'll explain the details of the plan to you soon enough."

"DOESN't THINK IT'S WORTH THE EFFORT?!?!" Quickswitch bellows at the cieling and SLAMS his fists down on Prowl's desk, absolutely fuming and pained. Steam rises from his shoulder vents in a small hiss, "Prime would have let me languish in there," his vocalizer cracks with pain at having been written off. After a moment his emotions, his entire personality shifts, "I'll see Wheeljack as soon as possible. You're a decent mech, sir." Quickswitch smiles and salutes with a stern expression.

Prowl doesn't start at the sudden outburst, just watches stoically. "As I said, Prime has a lot of things on his processors right now." Really, he can't be caught speaking poorly of Optimus, not right now. "The world is in a state of disarray and looking to him for leadership. Everyone has a different opinion and he's trying to find a way to appease them all. Can't forget the Decepticons, or the ever-intensifying energon crisis. As it stands we only have one major refinery left in operation. Suffice it to say things aren't looking too well for us." he says grimly. "But that's why mechs like you and I are needed."

Quickswitch taps at his chin, "Opinions, opinions. To the Pit with their opinions. Yes, Prime needs to deal with concrete matters like the energon crisis? There's an /energon/ crisis? /Unbelievable,/" he pauses, looks disgusted, "Well anyway, we must deal with the Decepticons, no question. How lame of me. Of /course/ Prime has many other things on his mind," the contemptuous six-changer regrads what Prowl has said, "I'm loathe to sit here and do nothing. I'd like to take on a mission, /after/ I speak to Wheeljack about this supposed cure," he says, skeptical. "If you can stop this yammering in my head, I'll be eternally gratreful."

"I will do my best, Quickswitch," Prowl replies. "But I cannot make any guarantees. Now would there be anything else?"

"Nothing more, sir," the sixchanger replies. He turns to the door and heads away, his shifting mood lighter than it was before.