Thundercracker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notyourblueangel) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
re_alignment_logs2013-11-16 09:46 pm
notyourblueangel) wrote in re_alignment_logs2013-11-16 09:46 pm
Wake to find the pain is real [Narrative and OPEN]
WHO: Thundercracker and OPEN
WHERE: ALL. OVER. HAVEN.
WHEN: This afternoon shortly after this post and well into tonight...or whenever either he runs out of energy or someone talks him down. 9,9
WHAT: BLOWIN'. SHIT. UP. ...aka grieving Decepticon coping the only way he knows how...which is to say, not at all. orz
WARNINGS: Uh...well, besides RAEGY Seeker? Probably a lot of cursing, Cybertronian-style . . . property damage (but not to anything anyone owns [unless you WANT him to hit it by accident??]) . . . angst in general?
NOTES: He'll be airborne for the most part, but if someone radios him or just flags him down, especially someone he knows in the latter case, he'll respond and land.
No . . . NO! That wasn't real! That HADN'T BEEN REAL!
So why had it happened anyway!?
. . .
It was like waking from a nightmare only to find it had been a premonition of sorts. A premonition that came true, at least in part. The most important part.
The nightmare had been of everything being ripped from him - from his home through his freedom and all the way down to his very dignity. Even now he remembered the abuses and the tortures, the degradations, the humiliation of the auction blocks and the agony of electro-whips across his wings. But there'd always been one constant - his surviving wingmate, Skywarp. And then he too had been taken, and Thundercracker had been left alone. That had been - or at least felt like - the last straw in his sanity.
Reality was that . . . well, he supposed he could see it as a slavery of sorts. He'd served someone he didn't want to but in some ways at least felt he had no choice. He did, of course, but . . . lesser of evils and all that. Vos had still been destroyed forever ago, but at least not in the same way, and both of his wingmates had survived, alive and as free as any Decepticon who served closely under Megatron. And then he'd come here . . . and he'd been alone. But he'd been free in ways he'd not known for so long that it took him months to figure out what to do with himself. Slowly, he'd managed to make friends, and joined the police force, and . . . and life had been good. But there'd always been something missing. His trine. There was a Starscream here, but they'd never really managed to bond - the other Seeker was busy with other people and things and it had just not really happened. And Skywarp wasn't here.
Until suddenly he was.
Thundercracker had been ecstatic. Even after realizing the mech wasn't "his" Skywarp but one from another reality, the similarities had been enough. He had his wingmate back. Thundercracker had flown with Wing a few times, and had appreciated and enjoyed it, but nothing replaced having another Seeker at his wingtip . . . and no other Seeker - Pit, not even Starscream - could replace Skywarp.
Thundercracker had been here for over a year now. Well over. And Skywarp had been here for most of that time. Though he'd never admit to it, Thundercracker was a somewhat dependent mech. He needed purpose and validation in his life, and found those in the things he did and the people he did them with. It was one of the biggest reasons he'd finally applied to the police force. But people had a greater influence on him in validating his existence, and no one moreso than Skywarp.
Then that . . . that utter nightmare had hit, and arguably nothing - nothing at all - in Thundercracker's entire life had ever left him so shaken, feeling vulnerable and violated and just plain terrified - of what could have been . . . of what, in a sense, had been. As soon as he'd been himself again - his real self, thank you very much! - he'd gone looking for Skywarp. For so many reasons. To assure himself that his wingmate really was all right - was alive, whole, unbeaten, unbroken. To validate himself. To . . . fraggit, to have someone to talk to about what had happened! To try to work through his own reactions and feelings. To tell him he was being stupid for letting it upset him so badly.
But Skywarp wasn't there.
Thundercracker had posted to the Link once he was himself. Skywarp never answered. Thundercracker went looking . . . looked everywhere, checked all his haunts, continued to ping him, checked the bar at the Hub and every medbay in Haven. Checked his room in Megatronus's temple.
Nothing. Nowhere. No sign, no reply, no Seeker.
Skywarp was gone. As suddenly as he had been in the nightmare.
For Thundercracker, fear manifested as anger . . . uncertainty manifested as anger . . . depression manifested as anger . . . grief manifested as anger . . . feelings of abandonment, of betrayal, of...pretty much anything, manifested as anger. Any two of those could send him into a rage, though always before he'd had to bottle it up, to hide and deny it until it passed, for fear of crossing Megatron.
Here and now? Here he didn't have to hide it, bottle it, deny it. And now, all of the above were coming into play. Alone, they'd have been bad enough, but on the heels of the nightmare he'd just endured? Intolerable! And what did it all mix and boil into to manifest?
Pure . . . unadulterated . . . blinding . . . fury. A fury with no target, no enemy, no outlet. Not one he could reach, anyway.
So he's creating them.
Thundercracker is out and about, racing and strafing all over Haven, making as much noise and spreading as much random (mostly random) destruction as he can. The sonic BOOMS that are his namesake can be heard for tens of miles. His turbines rattle windows as he flies too close - far too close - to buildings of all shapes and sizes. His rifles tear into mountainsides, random boulders, the surface of the lake in Alpha Trion's quadrant, and across long tracts of land. He's not doing damage to anything that belongs to anyone (that he's aware of) - he's retaining enough presence of mind for that at least - but that's about it.
Everything else is fair game.
WHERE: ALL. OVER. HAVEN.
WHEN: This afternoon shortly after this post and well into tonight...or whenever either he runs out of energy or someone talks him down. 9,9
WHAT: BLOWIN'. SHIT. UP. ...aka grieving Decepticon coping the only way he knows how...which is to say, not at all. orz
WARNINGS: Uh...well, besides RAEGY Seeker? Probably a lot of cursing, Cybertronian-style . . . property damage (but not to anything anyone owns [unless you WANT him to hit it by accident??]) . . . angst in general?
NOTES: He'll be airborne for the most part, but if someone radios him or just flags him down, especially someone he knows in the latter case, he'll respond and land.
No . . . NO! That wasn't real! That HADN'T BEEN REAL!
So why had it happened anyway!?
. . .
It was like waking from a nightmare only to find it had been a premonition of sorts. A premonition that came true, at least in part. The most important part.
The nightmare had been of everything being ripped from him - from his home through his freedom and all the way down to his very dignity. Even now he remembered the abuses and the tortures, the degradations, the humiliation of the auction blocks and the agony of electro-whips across his wings. But there'd always been one constant - his surviving wingmate, Skywarp. And then he too had been taken, and Thundercracker had been left alone. That had been - or at least felt like - the last straw in his sanity.
Reality was that . . . well, he supposed he could see it as a slavery of sorts. He'd served someone he didn't want to but in some ways at least felt he had no choice. He did, of course, but . . . lesser of evils and all that. Vos had still been destroyed forever ago, but at least not in the same way, and both of his wingmates had survived, alive and as free as any Decepticon who served closely under Megatron. And then he'd come here . . . and he'd been alone. But he'd been free in ways he'd not known for so long that it took him months to figure out what to do with himself. Slowly, he'd managed to make friends, and joined the police force, and . . . and life had been good. But there'd always been something missing. His trine. There was a Starscream here, but they'd never really managed to bond - the other Seeker was busy with other people and things and it had just not really happened. And Skywarp wasn't here.
Until suddenly he was.
Thundercracker had been ecstatic. Even after realizing the mech wasn't "his" Skywarp but one from another reality, the similarities had been enough. He had his wingmate back. Thundercracker had flown with Wing a few times, and had appreciated and enjoyed it, but nothing replaced having another Seeker at his wingtip . . . and no other Seeker - Pit, not even Starscream - could replace Skywarp.
Thundercracker had been here for over a year now. Well over. And Skywarp had been here for most of that time. Though he'd never admit to it, Thundercracker was a somewhat dependent mech. He needed purpose and validation in his life, and found those in the things he did and the people he did them with. It was one of the biggest reasons he'd finally applied to the police force. But people had a greater influence on him in validating his existence, and no one moreso than Skywarp.
Then that . . . that utter nightmare had hit, and arguably nothing - nothing at all - in Thundercracker's entire life had ever left him so shaken, feeling vulnerable and violated and just plain terrified - of what could have been . . . of what, in a sense, had been. As soon as he'd been himself again - his real self, thank you very much! - he'd gone looking for Skywarp. For so many reasons. To assure himself that his wingmate really was all right - was alive, whole, unbeaten, unbroken. To validate himself. To . . . fraggit, to have someone to talk to about what had happened! To try to work through his own reactions and feelings. To tell him he was being stupid for letting it upset him so badly.
But Skywarp wasn't there.
Thundercracker had posted to the Link once he was himself. Skywarp never answered. Thundercracker went looking . . . looked everywhere, checked all his haunts, continued to ping him, checked the bar at the Hub and every medbay in Haven. Checked his room in Megatronus's temple.
Nothing. Nowhere. No sign, no reply, no Seeker.
Skywarp was gone. As suddenly as he had been in the nightmare.
For Thundercracker, fear manifested as anger . . . uncertainty manifested as anger . . . depression manifested as anger . . . grief manifested as anger . . . feelings of abandonment, of betrayal, of...pretty much anything, manifested as anger. Any two of those could send him into a rage, though always before he'd had to bottle it up, to hide and deny it until it passed, for fear of crossing Megatron.
Here and now? Here he didn't have to hide it, bottle it, deny it. And now, all of the above were coming into play. Alone, they'd have been bad enough, but on the heels of the nightmare he'd just endured? Intolerable! And what did it all mix and boil into to manifest?
Pure . . . unadulterated . . . blinding . . . fury. A fury with no target, no enemy, no outlet. Not one he could reach, anyway.
So he's creating them.
Thundercracker is out and about, racing and strafing all over Haven, making as much noise and spreading as much random (mostly random) destruction as he can. The sonic BOOMS that are his namesake can be heard for tens of miles. His turbines rattle windows as he flies too close - far too close - to buildings of all shapes and sizes. His rifles tear into mountainsides, random boulders, the surface of the lake in Alpha Trion's quadrant, and across long tracts of land. He's not doing damage to anything that belongs to anyone (that he's aware of) - he's retaining enough presence of mind for that at least - but that's about it.
Everything else is fair game.
no subject
With some calculations he brought himself up straight into Thundercracker's flightpath, not so close that they were sure to collide but more than enough that the flyer couldn't deny his presence there.
"Thundercracker, land, now."
Placeholder tag till you're back from hiatus. <3
He shouldn't have been doing what he was doing. Even at his worst, he knew that. But until that moment of recognition, he'd Just. Not. Cared. But then, suddenly -
Megatron.
And not just any Megatron. That Megatron. The negative polarity one. The one he not only got along with, respected, but actively wanted proud of him.
He transformed mere meters from the ground, landing on his feet . . . and collapsing instantly to his knees, curled over into a submissive pose, but stiff - body rigid, wings high, fingers digging into the rocky earth under his hands. His optics were bright, his body trembling, and his fans rattled loudly with the stress of running too hard, far too hard to be healthy.
<333
"I'm sorry, my friend. I noticed your message but did not consider that you might need a friendly audio to let out your pain to. Or at least I think I am right in thinking that it is pain that prompted these actions." He kept his voice soft and gentle as he spoke, trying to let the flyer know he wasn't upset at him.
no subject
"He's gone. He's gone! They tortured and broke him and he was broken and it was my fault and then they took him away and he was gone and my fault too, only it was all just a nightmare, but now it's over, but now he's gone again."
The words spilled out in a confused jumble. He didn't want to think about it, but it's all he can think about, and he just wanted the pain to stop but he didn't know how.
no subject
This world may seem like a paradise in some ways, away from the wars... but it's not as nice as it seems. I know it's hard, and I'm sorry, but I'm here for you." He could remember Soundwave and what the mech had been through, and nothing seemed right about how it had happened and then later he had left. He did his best to be soothing towards the flyer, without trying to quiet him, let the mech talk or rage, or rail against a comforting force, something that he can wear out the unhappiness against. That was what Megatron wanted to be for him at this moment.
no subject
"T-that . . . other Seeker . . . t-that other . . . m-me . . . he . . . " He shook his head, unable to quite bring himself to put to words all that the other mech had been through in his life, everything he had put Thundercracker through in memories too fresh and raw and horrific. And Skywarp... "T-they took him . . . fraggers took him from me! A-and they killed him . . . tortured and k-killed him . . . " Shudders wrack him from remembered horrors - memories that weren't his, but forever now might as well be. The last came out soft, questionable if he were even aware of speaking the words aloud.
"I-I...I don't...know what to do. I don't know what to do anymore..."
no subject
He waited as Thundercracker spoke, listening and taking it in. He had been so deeply entrenched in his own things that he had missed a large portion of what had happened around haven of late, but he wasn't about to point that out to Thundercracker at a time like this. It only resolved his intention to stay more aware of things in the future.
"What do you want to do?" He asked, looking concerned as he shifted to try to look the flyer in the face. "What does your em... spark, tell you will make things hurt less?"
no subject
Thundercracker would be mortified, angry at himself for his weakness, if he let himself think about what he's doing, clinging to someone like a frightened sparkling. Which was . . . why he wasn't letting himself think about it. Right now, he just . . . he needed the comfort of an embrace stronger than his, for someone to tell him he wasn't broken, wasn't going insane, someone to give him focus and guidance since on his own he'd spiraled so far out of control.
He shifted back a bit, glancing briefly to meet the optics trying to catch his before his head ducked in shame. At least he was quieter as he answered. "I-I don't know, my lord. I'm . . . I'm sorry." For his behavior, for his rage, for his . . . his failure to cope and handle this on his own.
no subject
He kept a hold of the flyer, not yet ready himself to let him go, wanting to offer as much comfort as he possibly could.