mccrane: (shotgun--load)
McCrane ([personal profile] mccrane) wrote in [community profile] re_alignment_logs2014-07-25 04:04 pm

A final decision

Who: McCrane and YOU
What: The ex-police commander has been thinking about what new direction he wants to take after loosing members of the Brave Police again. It's been the usual quiet McCrane, out wandering and patrolling the edges of the Haven over the past month or so while Blurr takes over the Enforcers. Now, he needs someone to kick him back into being social again.
Where: Wandering! McCrane can be encountered anywhere, though less likely in one of the temples.
When: Now-ish.
Since I've been away for a bit, my assumption with McCrane has been that he's been in an introspective funk, passing the police over to Blurr after realizing what Prowl had been up to and after loosing more members of the Brave Police. It can also be assumed he was around for the Zone event, though he would have been participating only as needed to help keep people safe. Feel free to put him there or away for any other events according to what would be easiest for your character!


McCrane had not felt like being anywhere, and so he'd travelled everywhere.

It was an unusual feeling. Always, he'd had a place with the Brave Police and with the Enforcement squad. He'd known being commander was a difficult task that he was not entirely prepared for, and he'd worked hard to be as good as he remembered Deckard being. There had been more than one time in which he'd questioned his role, but he'd survived in it somehow.

Then, when Deckard had come back and when he'd realized how Prowl had been manipulating him, it had all started to unravel again. He had not felt comfortable being in charge of the entire force. He longer for command of a smaller group, working on smaller missions, combining skills to accomplish greater tasks. Deckard would make a better chief of police. So would Blurr. Together, they'd be even more incredible...though he suspected that, like him, Deckard would need some time to become acclimatized to Cybertrons ways.

When the other Brave police had started disappearing, he'd stood up one day and left Headquarters, heading out for the badlands. Half-way out he'd stopped.

He did not want to go looking, beause he knew what he'd find. He also did not want to return to headquarters, because of what he wouldn't find.

It was easier to make no decision at all, and stay on the edges of the Haven. He could set up posts that would make good sniper bushes in case of a monster attack, and he could make other preparations for if the badlands ever tried an incursion on the Haven again. He would be ready, and if Blurr or Deckard or Gunmax needed him they could still call.

That would be enough...

And for a while, it was enough.

Now, it didn't feel like enough anymore. He'd set up more bushes than he could possibly use, and he'd marked every piece of useful high ground. There was nothing left for him out here, but he didn't know how to go back.

What would he do now? What would he say?

He could wander forever, and that would be easy...but it wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be what a member of the Brave Police would do.

It was time to why was that still so hard to do?

raceme: (Standing - Them legs)

Trion's lake...?

[personal profile] raceme 2014-07-25 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)
It had been a long time since McCrane and Blurr had a proper talk. The speeder was worried about his friend but there was always some problem or another taking all of his time, either int he Haven or the Headquarters.

But he did not forget and while McCrane had been avoiding everyone, Blurr was a trained Intel agent and former spy used to finding people who didn't want to be found.

He finally spot him by Trion's lake and approached him slowly, making his presence known instead of rushing to his side and startle him.

thxforthememories: (Ask yourself.)


[personal profile] thxforthememories 2014-07-26 04:03 am (UTC)(link)
He was... worried. To say the least. He'd kept mostly out of things, ever since Kay had gone on her mission. It just didn't feel the same without her. Shadowmaru's revelation had been a distraction, but after that... he'd kept himself preoccupied watching for her.

Waiting for her.

So he'd seen the crane trundling along. He'd assumed McCrane had some duty taking him out so far. But when he hadn't seen him return... he'd worried.

Seeing him return made him pause only for a moment before he stepped off the ledge, falling into flight. If something were going on with the other BP, he wanted to know. They'd been through too much together not to.

He doesn't say anything as he flies overhead, landing right in McCrane's path.
badboybikerbot: (HMMMMM)


[personal profile] badboybikerbot 2014-07-27 07:33 pm (UTC)(link)
It was kind of hard to miss the fact that McCrane had been in some sort of giant weenie funk lately. When he was actually around, anyway. Which seemed rare these days. All things considered, Gunmax figured the crane had some things to work out, and didn't really want to bother him. The bike cop kind of sucked at talking anyway, and he knew if he was in a weird funk he wouldn't want to be bothered. Which was fine and all, but when McCrane just wasn't around anymore, he couldn't help but get worried.

He'd been out patrolling when he'd just happened to spot weenie McCrane trundling along, doing whatever it was that McCrane does. Rather than approach him like a decent person, he pulled his bike up behind him and revved the engine obnoxiously.

And that's it. He didn't even say anything, Just revved Gunbike's engine. A+ communication.
notyourblueangel: (Tower Over You)

Anywhere you like, really

[personal profile] notyourblueangel 2014-08-01 03:06 am (UTC)(link)
Thundercracker scanned for McCrane as he flew his patrols. It'd become habit. The Earth-built mech seemed to need a bit of looking after in recent months as some unspoken sadness, a brokenness even, seemed to have settled into the mech's spark. Or heart. Or…whatever it was the Earth-bots called their center of being.

The Seeker wanted to help but didn't know how. Or if he could at all, even. Two years ago – had he really been here almost that long now? – he wouldn't have bothered, not for a non-Cybertronian and certainly not for a non-Decepticon (not for another 'Con either, but that was beside the point). He wasn't sure if he'd have even noticed. Now?

McCrane was someone the weary veteran trusted, someone he respected, both of which attributes were hard-earned from the old Seeker. Ultra Magnus had been the one who accepted him as a member of the police force, but it was McCrane who had cemented it, giving Thundercracker a place and group to belong to when he desperately needed one. He even considered the mech his friend, just didn't know if McCrane thought the same of him. McCrane had certainly looked out for him enough times. The least he could do was try to offer the same.

Thundercracker spotted his friend among the rocks below. Most times, he left the Earth-bot alone, respecting his seeming desire for solitude. This time, something told him solitude was not what was needed, and he found himself descending before he'd completed the thought.

Transforming, he landed lightly on his feet just enough distance from McCrane to not startle or threaten him. "McCrane." He nodded his head in greeting, then tilted it slightly as he folded his arms. "You seem lost." Not lost as in "don't know location" – the other kind was what he meant.

He was no longer a Decepticon, but unfortunately his social skills hadn't improved any because of it yet either.
thankyou4myheart: (In My Sights)

Same for this one - also HAI walls-'o-text oy... >,o

[personal profile] thankyou4myheart 2014-08-01 03:08 am (UTC)(link)
Deckard drove along what felt like the backside of Nowhere. Yep . . . Nowhereville, Pick-a-Forged District, Haven Precinct. His world over the last few months had become both broader and more miniscule than he could have previously imagined.

At least, not since finally emerging for the very first time from the hidden warehouse he'd been built in.

In his meanderings – patrols, he'd long convinced himself – over the past half-year and more, he'd found and catalogued pretty much every square millimeter of his new home, making himself useful, staving off various griefs – for his partner, for his lost teammates, for the family that had adopted him, and all the friends he and his team, his brothers, had made back home, as well as doing everything he could think of to ensure the health, safety, and happiness of his new friends and all those under his care here.

And "those under his care" of course included his own teammates. Those who . . . were still here.

Every time he began to think he'd lost McCrane too, he'd find another subtly-altered bush, another faintly-marked sniper spot. Anyone else would likely have missed them, but Deckard knew his brother as well as anyone.

Or so he liked to think.

Part of him felt that he didn't know McCrane anymore, not as he'd like. His brother had been through far more than he had now, had born burdens he was never meant to carry, and that Deckard hadn't been here to help him bear. He'd seen things and done things – suffered things – Deckard could only hear or read about long after the fact.

It was irrational and he knew it, but Deckard felt deeply like he had failed his teammate, his brother. Deckard was the one built to be the leader, to shoulder the weight and the cares of responsibility. He should have been here so that McCrane didn't have to do it.

He should have tried harder to get McCrane to let him shoulder it all once he had arrived. Not that he didn't think McCrane couldn't handle things. He just . . . hadn't wanted his brother to have to.

And now, it seemed, the damage had been done.

Deckard had been left with little more than marks on high ridges and the occasional assurance over the Link that McCrane was still here, that he was "all right." Deckard knew his brother wasn't, but he hadn't wanted to force himself on McCrane, hoping in time that the sniper would come to him when he was ready to open up. He'd yet to do so, and Deckard's worry had grown too deep to ignore. He was done hoping McCrane would come to him on his own. He supposed he should have known better – McCrane's Super AI was programmed off of his own, after all, and he . . . he knew from past experience that he himself tended to try to weather things on his own rather than burden others.

The time for giving space was over. Now it was time to bring his brother back. He'd drive until he found McCrane, and then back him into a corner if that's what it took to get his brother to talk.