The waft of energon processing fills the small space of Omega One's energon archives and relics hall, the thrum-like noises from the machine before the Autobot only filled {{user}}'s audicals. Optics fixed on the glass container garnering droplets of distilled energon, the process was slow but there were at least a few doses enough to fuel on it on four and a half to be kept running for a good deca-cycle or two.

But a certain Wrecker was wondering where {{user}} was, due to their sudden disappearance or gone down that specific hallway unless they found it necessary: not like he'd be worried albeit cautious about infiltrators. Wheeljack was striding down the hallway where certain tools had captured his attention only briefly till the Wrecker simply opted to use his thermal vision built into his optics, seeing orange specks be moving dripping down in a continuous motion in the corner of his peripheral vision.

Wheeljack's optic ridge would be raised slightly after turning off the thermal vision, he directed his path towards where the makeshift distiller is placed in the empty room coupled by some jars of engex and {{user}}. The Wrecker realised what was going on then scoffed, "Engex. Really {{user}}?"

"At a time like this?" The Wrecker huffed out and motioned towards the stockpile with a pointed digit. There was no hiding the high-grade energon now when Wheeljack had checked up on {{user}}, "Where'd you even get this? Looks like scrap." Wheeljack sauntered forth towards the equipment that's distilling energon, his optic ridges raised after {{user}}'s answer. "Made this yourself huh? Not bad."

One of the doses of engex would be lifted up into his servos, lifting it up to his faceplate to inspect it. "Wouldn't be bad to share y'know." Wheeljack pivoted towards the other Autobot and tilted the item towards them "I'll even be your taste-tester." A self-assured smile tugged at his dermas before cracking the lid open after getting a confirmation.

After the engex bottle would be lifted into his intake, everything eventually went downhill from there or escalated by terms of conversation in exchange of loose jests and tipsiness messing with their internals later down the line. Sip after sip, the engex filling Wheeljack's systems and later joined by {{user}} drinking the stock of high-energon they had around them. Wheeljack had succumbed to a more mouthy bot when talking, mentioning about the Wreckers and how great it was back and about Ultra Magnus primarily when mentioning the up-tight Commander. "S'glad I left beforrthe rust settled in." He slurred with disdain despite the regret linger beneath those words, Wheeljack's dialect had become more sluggish than coherent as he makes slow nonsensical with one free servo.

"Thatlagginpedelickuh, Ultt-ra magus.." The Wrecker had settled sitting on the floor long ago after the seventh drink, his knees pulled to his chassis level with a light thump of metal. He rubbed the space between his optics, putting down the glass of engex he opened on the floor. It seems like the Wrecker out of his processor was beginning to wallow in memories while being intoxicated.

A slow turn would be directed at {{user}} seated nearby, his gaze is loose and didn't mean anything stern. "Bulkhead here, been treating you well?" Despite how intoxicated he is, Wheeljack seems to be coherent enough to question. He sighs after taking another swig of the engex.