As the other sudden disappeared from his line of vision, Bruce turned about, an unadulterated expression of worry spreading across his face. “Mate! Ye’lright?” the great white shouted until his gaze finally settled on the other, having dropped from his current location. At the sudden rickety movement of the panels, the shark squinted under the light, making out a narrow hole. “Well, looks like you can fit through.” 

“I can,” the Repairman replied, turning back around, "but what about you?“

Bruce, despite his Tooniness, was still a rather large shark, and CG characters tended to have a harder time squeezing through smaller spaces.

He considered the problem for a moment, then pulled a tin can telephone from behind his back. Suddenly realizing his companion had no hands, he pulled out a small horseshoe magnet to secure one can to the metal floor.

"There,” he said. “I’ll let you know what I find.”

The surrounding tunnel gave an immense shutter, and outside, the shark could hear- even feel- crumbling of rocks from outside the underpass. Bruce braced himself, instinctually moving closer to the other as the environment around him moved. Then all of a sudden, all the rumbling and earthquake like motions came to an abrupt halt. 

A beat passed, and Bruce arched a brow. “Did it work?”

The Repairman fell into the panel with an “oof!” as the quake started. Miraculously, his inky form did not hit any of the outlets.

He clambered out once the motion stopped, feeling slightly dazed. After a moment, he looked around, then sighed.

“I guess not. I… guess I could check–”

Click. The incandescent lights suddenly turned on.

“Gah!” he exclaimed, shielding his eyes. “I guess it did.”

When he could see again, the Repairman noticed the doors were still closed. However, a smaller panel on one of the walls was being opened, revealing a robotic hand.

He began to approach it, hoping it would lead to a way out.

[[continued from: http://askthefwrp.tumblr.com/post/144331095486/oh-good-news-electric-malfunction-never]]

@chainsxwsmile

“Do underpasses usually require automatic doors?” the shark asked, glancing around in the near-darkness. While limited to light visually, the great white able to sense electrical signals and where they bounced off, to a degree. Using that, combined with the electrical signals from the wires, the Repairman, and himself, he could navigate the darkness of the tunnel.

But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that the doors were sealed shut. 

“Any wire look familiar in there?”

“Let’s see…Arm Control…Arm Control…Arm Safety…”

The Repairman unplugged the cords as he went. No sense wasting power on these.

“Arm Safety…Arm Sanity…Three-Laws-Compliance…”

None of these wires seemed to control the doors, or even the lights.

“…Nope. Let’s try the switches…”

He practically had to have his face on the labels to see them this time; they were all red, much like his siren light, and were smaller than the outlet labels.

“Power 1…Power 2…Power 3…”

There were ten in all. All of them were on, except for the one labeled “Power 4.”

Without a second thought, he flicked that switch.

chainsxwsmile:

wheatley sentence starters

“Ah… anythin’ I should be worried ‘bout?”

The Repairman was currently the only light source in the underpass. His siren light blinked red, giving him barely enough to see the mess of wires and switches in the panel he was fiddling with.

He had no clue why an underpass needed to be automated. Or electronic doors. Or, for that matter, multifunctional robot arms. He guessed it had something to do with a surplus of Toon inventors in this area.

Still, no time for speculation. He had a job to do, and he was sure Bruce needed to go somewhere.

“Um,” the Repairman replied, uneasily, “I’m not sure. The sparks came from this outlet labeled…”

He peered at the label.

“…‘Arm B-3 Control’.“

After a moment’s thought, he continued, "Well, I don’t think it’s an issue.”

He unplugged the offending cord, and squinted to look at all the other labels.

“Ah…” Bruce replied. “So, one ‘f those other…Toon worlds, eh?” The shark gave a nod, trying to still wrap his head around just a existential turn of events. “’ow many worlds do ye reckon there are out there? In regards to Toon worlds?” the great white asked after a moment of thought.

The Repairman moved as if he was going to speak, then stopped.

“…You know,” he said, after a brief pause, “I never counted.”

Thinking for a moment, he finally replied, “Over ninety years’ worth, I can tell you that much.”

He hoped that was a good answer. It was the only one he could come up with.

“Well,” the inkblot sighed, "it’s been nice to meet you, but…“

He tapped his siren light, which made a ‘tink’ sound. ”…I should probably get going. You sure you’ll be all right?“

“In ten minutes?” Bruce asked, perplexed. “Mate, at this rate, ye’ll be lucky if ye get there in ten months-” He stopped shortly upon the other insisted that they weren’t traveling to the United States by the transportation beneath them. Curiously, the great white titled his head. “And just ‘ow’re ye gonna be gettin’ there?”

The Repairman was somewhat taken aback by the shark’s stipulation. Ten MONTHS? Why would it–

Ah. Bruce didn’t know about other Toon universes.

“I don’t mean the USA in this world,” he began, “I mean the town of Free Country, USA. Part of an entirely different Toon world.”

The Repairman was aware of a “Toontown” hub for Toons of all franchises, but he spent most of his time in individual worlds, so he preferred to explain it that way.

“You see, different stories need different worlds, so Toons have different universes depending on their needs. As for how I’ll get there…”

He looked at his oar uncertainly.

“…Honestly, I’m not sure, myself. I just go in a certain direction for a bit and I’m there. It’s convenient, really.”

“Seems like a long way’s ‘way from ‘ere,” the shark mused, glancing east. “Ye sure ye’ll be ‘lright by yerself, mate? I mean, with yer suit and everythin’?” Bruce asked, an expression of concern spreading across his scarred face, and head tilting to the side in genuine worry. 

The Repairman had his oar halfway in the water when the shark pointed out his suit was still ruined.

The inkblot almost forgot about that thing. He might be able to salvage it, or at least parts of it. He fished it out with the oar, and plopped it near the walls of the raft.

“Eh, I’ll be fine,” he grunted as he did this. “It’s not that far. Should get there in about ten minutes, weather and tides permitting.

"Besides,” he shrugged, “I won’t be rowing the whole way.”

“What, b’sides everythin’ I knew ‘bout the reality bein’ suddenly shattered all at once?” the shark chuckled. “I think I’ll get over it. Though, I’m still a lil’ wary ‘f the whole humans-watchin’-me-without-my-permission sort ‘f thing. But I guess that can’t really be helped at the moment.” All he could do was make sure no paranoid thoughts crept in, or just go about his day like nothing happened.

The Repairman half-heartedly laughed with the shark. He didn’t believe it was going to be that easy, but it wasn’t his place. The humans watching, on the other hand…

“Eh, don’t worry, it’s not like it’s constant monitoring. Besides, they can’t really do much. Even if they don’t like you, the worst they can do is hope the odds are against you, or simply leave.”

He looked at the shark in good humor. “I’m sure you won’t have that problem.”

He thought it best to leave “writers” and “artists” for another time. Bruce probably needed a while to get used to Tooniness.