Seibertron.com Energon Pub Forums

Name: Wheeljack
Allegiance: Autobot
Function: Mechanical Engineer
Alternate Mode: Lancia Stratos Race Car
Weapons: Shoulder-Mounted Shell Launchers
Height: 26ft / 7.92m
Motto: “Never do what your enemy expects you to do.”

Strength: 7
Intelligence: 9
Dexterity: 7
Speed: 7
Endurance: 5
Courage: 9
Firepower: 7
Accuracy: 7
Melee: 5
Tech Skill: 10
Charisma: 7
Rank: 8

Appearance: In vehicle mode, Wheeljack is a sleek, curvaceous, Earth race car called a Lancia Stratos. His windshield is solid black and completely wraps from one side to another and accents of dark red and green highlight his vehicle. A large tail wing rises high above his rear end, adding to the maneuverability of his vehicle mode. The aerodynamic design of his vehicle mode allows for high speeds and spot-on cornering. In robot mode, Wheeljack stands tall and proud. Two vocalizer plates straddle his mouthpiece and pulsate with a warm blue glow whenever he speaks. His vocalizer plates perhaps stand out as his most noticeable detail. When in battle, his shell-launchers are mounted on his shoulders and allow for maximum attack ability.

Wheeljack's holomatter avatar is human male in about his mid 50’s with a thick white beard, but is bald. The avatar is short and is slightly overweight and wears glasses with round frame. The avatar appears to be wearing a gray sweeter, black dress pants and shoes.

Profile: “That guy can build a neutron bomb out of a wristwatch and a rusty can,” says Bluestreak, and that's not far from the truth. As well as the Ark fashioned the Autobots, Wheeljack is always coming up with ways to improve them, particularly their weaponry. His knack for creating wild new gadgets has earned him a "mad scientist" reputation and their deadly effectiveness has earned him the respect of friends and enemies alike. He is also the Autobot most adept at driving while in his automobile mode and has pulled off tricks that Earth's Hollywood stunt drivers haven't even dreamed of yet. He fully enjoys showing off when the opportunity presents itself.

Abilities: In addition to those mentioned above, Wheeljack, while in robot mode, can use the solid-fuel rockets in his arms to fly at speeds of 320 mph with a range of 800 miles. His shoulder-mounted cannons shoot a variety of shells: a magnetic-inducer shell, which douses its victims in a magnetic dust that attracts ferrous objects from distances up to 4000 feet away that adhere to and eventually disable the victim; a shrapnel-needle shell, which explodes into millions of hair-thin filaments that can pierce even the strongest armor and disrupt internal circuitry; and a gyro-inhibitor shell, which implants itself upon impact and destroys the balance of its victims. Wheeljack is continually adding new gimmicks to his shells.

Weaknesses: Wheeljack is his own worst enemy. He frequently injures himself while experimenting with new weapons


Sample Post:

Command Center
Wheeljack, may have gotten the remnants of the data net back up, but there was still work to be done. There were many other terminals that still needed some sort of adjustment. So he moved over to the next station, "Fire command and Control" the plaque indicated, and tried the power switch. Like the data and surveillance station it didn't boot up, until the under panel got a swift kick. However, the only thing this terminal did was whine and smoke.
"What the slag?!?! These computers are almost more temperamental than Grimlock during a lull in combat." The engineer complained aloud, as he emptied a can of compressed nitrogen to douse the flames.

After popping open it's enclosure, Wheeljack notices that the fire was not major, but much damage was preexisting, and he would need to make a brand new computer, which meant writing a new operating system, but then the core system need to be overhauled anyway. Not knowing where Kup was he opened a channel to the senior mech,
>>Hey Kup, do you know if anyone's found some functional computer parts? If so, I'll be needing a decent amount of them, some of these terminals are nothing more than fancy slag piles.<<