re_alignment_logs | RUN, LOOK OVER THE HILLS [closed]

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RUN, LOOK OVER THE HILLS [closed]

WHO: Depth Charge & Fortress Maximus
WHERE: Medbay
WHEN Monday
WHAT: Remember, gentlemen -- it's not revenge you're looking for. It's justice. Depth Charge and Fort Max have a few words in the medical bay concerning monsters.
WARNINGS: Likely a potential mention in prose of robo-gore to some extent.

There's a few reasons why Depth Charge hasn't left.

The surface reason easily is to let Ratchet repair him. Good hands on this mech, very skilled. Was able to fix him up pretty well so being crunched by a tank is not so nearly obvious. Not as efficient as a restoration chamber, but he's not going to complain. The rest will sort itself out.

The deeper, more interesting concern is Fortress Maximus.

The Maximal has had his repairs and he's done, completed. He doesn't have to wait for a medic to clear him, not by his terms. So he slides off the berth and goes hunting.

Depth Charge has always been decent at that.

Finding the enormous Autobot is not difficult at all. Couldn't hide the big guy even if you wanted to.

And here is his other reason for staying. That look Fortress Maximus had in his optics. The silent begging for it to end and finish, once and for all. He knows that look. He's so very familiar with it.

He had the same look when he was found as the sole survivor on Colony Omicron, after Protoform X had his fun.

Whether or not Fort Max is actually in recharge doesn't matter. He pulls up a seat and relaxes, absently tuning his Cybershark missile launcher. When Maximus feels like coming around and saying something, he'll be there. Might not be for awhile.

But whatever. He's in no hurry.

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Recharge hasn't come easily. Not for lack of his systems wanting it, no; his self-repair needs the rest to finish what Ratchet's started. Especially with the damage too fine (and yet still crippling) for a medic to repair properly...which is why he's essentially been put on berth rest, and honestly, he hadn't the motivation to complain.

Not until the nightmares started again, at least. He's had them since G-9, though they had started to taper off as of late. Fortress Maximus had begun to think that maybe, maybe they would get to the point where he wouldn't jerk awake, spark twisting in memories of various states of agony.

But since he had been reminded, so forcefully, of everything that had created those nightmares in the first place...

Suffice it to say, Maximus hasn't been interested in recharging, rest, all right. He'll remain right where he is, at least until he can transform again. And he'll let himself half-doze, at least until he's getting to the point where he's starting to slip offline- and then pull himself awake just as the medbay starts to...alter.

It's a drain on his systems, probably more harm than good in the long run. But like slag he'll succumb to that - he's gone through worst states of exhaustion before. Still, in that sort of half-awake twilight, he doesn't realize he's got company at first...when he does, though, his optics flicker briefly from their dim state, focusing a bit as he turns his helm towards the soft sound.

...ah. Him.

"Well well."

When those optics focus on him, Depth Charge notices. The slightest movement catches his attention easily enough. You get sensitive to movement for one reason or another; for him, it'd been necessary.

He doesn't look at Fortress Maximus, though. Not yet. No need.

"Didn't feel like sayin' it in front of the doc. No point." They aren't the type to bare themselves open. "But I knew. Not exactly, but I knew enough."

So he doesn't really care if Maximus hates him today. Later, he'll be grateful enough he has a fighting chance later.

The missile launcher gives a pleasant click as he snaps it closed.

"How numb do you feel right now?"

"..."

Max's first instinct is to make a comment about Depth Charge knowing anything, but it's halted by a brief memory. Just a prick, Depth Charge over him, you'll thank me later, and really, if this is later...

No. He's not inclined to. He just grunts instead, looking away.

"...enough."

The block's kept the physical pain away, at least, and that's all he could ask for. It might have been more than disorientating, if not for the fact that he's still aware of his surroundings.

"That's just the start." He leans forward, letting his missile launcher slide back into his compartment behind his fins. "Sure, you can blame Ratchet's work on you, but your spark, that's all them."

It's not ego that makes him speak. It's pure experience.

The Maximal doesn't care about personal space much, not in the way he casually hops onto the berth to peer down at Max. Maybe as a challenge, a point, or something.

Or maybe he's just kind of an asshole. Probably that.

"What's his name?"

Depth Charge doesn't care much about anything, does he? It's a good thing that Fort Max has learned to school his expressions, his emotions, his reactions. It keeps him from betraying anything when Depth Charge goes right for the spark of the matter.

All he does is cycle his vents, once. But other than that, he remains silent.

It's not out of protecting the unspoken - far from it. If he could see him ground in to shrapnel, melted in to slag, then thrown in to the heart of a star - he would.

But he also knows how very little naming him would help matters.

A foot goes to Fortress Maximus's shoulder as Depth Charge leans over to peer at him. Maybe as a start to a challenge, who knows. Only Depth Charge seems to.

"Guess it doesn't matter. They can call themselves whatever they want. Today it's Protoform X, tomorrow it's Rampage -- they might decide to be Gingersnap next week. Who cares, really?"

He rolls his shoulders in a shrug.

"So I guess my question is, when you're all done with your physical repairs, what'll you do next?"

Confident, aren't you? It prompts a snort of derision from Fortress Maximus, but - really. Depth Charge may think he knows what's happened, but he doesn't have a clue, does he. This isn't just some maniac who's taken it in his head that no, they aren't done yet - this is one whose power is so overwhelming, so total, that no one holds a chance against them.

He still has no idea how the Wreckers did it.

"Hell if I know."

He has an idea of what he's not doing, but that's about it. Be...better. If he doesn't stay in one place too long, probably. Keep himself moving.

Maybe explore the rest of Cybertron. It's a big planet. Easy to get lost in. He finds himself an energon converter, he'll be set.

"That's what I thought at first, too."

Sorry, but you aren't running from this. Not yet, anyway. Depth Charge leans in, downright snarling. The difference in their size is hardly one that bothers Depth Charge.

Then again, he doesn't remember what it's like to be afraid anymore.

"I was an Imperial Marshall. I had an entire colony I was guarding. I was there when we made it, there when we finished it. Colony Omicron. Hundreds of civilians. Had a science sector, too. I wasn't privy to what went on, but the High Council assured me it was secure. Fine, I said. If you're sure."

The foot is removed from Fortress Maximus. "I ain't a tech-head. I don't know how it works, but they did it. Based off of a Starscream's spark. They made something. They called it Protoform X. It couldn't die, no matter what you did with it. Your worst kind of monster. It broke out of that facility. It killed everyone. Every innocent person. Every guard. It didn't matter. But it left me alive. Barely."

He folds his arms. "The numbness goes away. Maybe you wanna escape, or try, but you know you can't. Not as long as it is here. Your monster. You can run and avoid it, no matter how powerful it is. Or you can hunt and finish it. Up to you, big guy."

Fortress Maximus tenses, as if preparing to reach back and smack Depth Charge right off him. You don't know slag, he wants to snarl back. It's not the same, it's-

It's achingly familiar, actually. Oh, there's its differences, but there's...quite a few connections there. It's the surprise more than anything else that has that tension bleeding away, leaving not so much a resignation as...

Attention. That's probably the best word. As Fortress Maximus listens, fingers flexing as though ready to make a fist, then relaxing.

After a few long moments of silence, he turns his helm back, slowly.

"...How do you kill something that can't die?"

After all. Depth Charge had mentioned that he'd gotten his revenge. He's got no idea what Starscream of all mechs has to do with this, but...

Good reaction. Good response. He's got something.

It's not like Depth Charge's story is an enormous secret. He despises talking about it, but to make a point to someone else that needs it, sure. Maybe it's from whatever leftovers he has of his Maximal heritage. Who knows.

"Took me a long time to find a way." He spreads his fins out as he hops off the berth, grunting as he lands. "You know what a raw energon shard does to a spark?"

Depth Charge shrugs. "I didn't know til I tried. Great explosion. Real satisfying. Hurt like slag, but it was worth it."

He didn't know, no. The description offers a wonderful mental image, however. Piercing through armor, stabbing straight through the chamber - oh, he'd take the pain if he could do it.

Could seems to be a better word than would though. With the way his...last...opportunity for revenge went.

There's still a grim, if nearly imperceptible smile on his face at the thought.

"Lucky you."

"Sure. We'll go with luck."

Yet it begs the question back in his mind: what will you do now? You wasted all that time and now what? What do you have to prove for it? Your best plan of action is sitting around and drinking energon.

But he ignores it. He can't be wrong. Why would he be? No, maybe he has nothing else left, but at least he paid his debt to friends and coworkers and the innocents that were slain and devoured.

"The way I saw it, laying back and thinking about dying or running... 'cuz I did think of that. I thought about even trying a new life. But I couldn't. Plenty of reasons not to. Way I saw it, it was admitting defeat. Letting him win. Up to you what you plan on doin'. Be a shame if you let him win, though."

Prick at him some more, won't you?

Fort Max's optics narrow, something a few shades away from anger glinting in them. Frustration is more like it, the sort that could drive any sane mech...not.

He emits another snort, looking up at the ceiling...and then, speaking. Slowly.

"...they put me in charge of a prison. Garrus-9. I preferred being out there, in the war, but...they needed someone who could handle those 'Cons, there, and the few 'Bots who couldn't figure out what they were fighting for, and I said fine. Took a little getting used to, being a warden, but I ran it well enough. What incidents there were we took care of."

One way or another. He's still wondering about Arcee, but...

"...came under attack, a few years ago. Every Autobot outpost seemed to be going off at once, we couldn't get any reinforcements - had to be someone who betrayed us, there wasn't any other reason for it. They forced us back to the Last Resort, and things were looking down, but we could take it. Fight those bastards back, figure out who betrayed us, lock him down 'til he rusted..."

Maybe they couldn't. But it was an ending he was prepared for. If he'd had died there, it'd have been a good death, if that was actually possible. Die in a battle, all right...

Here, though.

Here he finds himself having to pause for a few seconds before he can continue.

"...then he showed up, and everything went to hell."

Anyone who claimed that Depth Charge was gentle was clearly lying. No, he's quite relentless; maybe it's because he doesn't want to see Fort Max give up. Maybe a lot of things.

That's all internal, though. Motive.

But he listens, out of respect. No, not everything is the same, but there's enough similarities, aren't there? They were in charge of something. Working with good men. It took one person to ruin it all.

There's enough similarities, even if a lot of details are rearranged.

"Now it's just you and him."

If there were survivors besides Fort Max, he figures he'd have heard it.

It's. Present tense. But it was like that back then, too.

"I fought."

He damn well did fight, used everything he knew, but it wasn't enough. He wasn't strong enough. He fought and he lost, and then Overlord fed him to his own prison before having him hauled out, more dead than alive, so he could take his own turn.

It's can't as much as won't go in to details, but...Maximus forces his vocalizer to reset. Back on. To keep going.

"Three years," he continues, with a forced calmness that fades in to a poisonous hatred as he continues. "Three years of being a prisoner in my own prison, interrogated, slagging tortured, and watching my men die when-"

When he didn't cooperate. When he fought back. But that's- that's all beyond the point. He's made the point, hasn't he? That's enough. His fingers curl as his optics burn up at the ceiling, as if they could bore holes with emotion alone.

"Don't you frakking dare think I haven't thought about revenge. About doing everything he did to me - us - back to him."

Edited 2012-09-25 18:56 (UTC)

There's a level of understanding. There's a reason why Depth Charge can't go into detail about what Rampage did to him. He literally can't; he's never spoken about to anyone to that level.

So he understands, to a degree. After what happened on Omicron, Depth Charge chased Rampage down for four years. Four agonizing years, just so the High Council could pack up X like a bad dream and toss him somewhere.

But who can compare notes?

"Didn't think you hadn't. But who's busy licking his wounds and who's off into the night, satisfied?"

"Who's the one that froze when he had his opportunity."

And that's just it. That's - everything, here. He burns for revenge, he craves it, wants it so badly he could kill for it...

...except, of course, he can't kill the mech who it's all about.

At this point, frankly, Fortress Maximus is prepared for Depth Charge to either leave in disgust, or start lecturing him...it won't change the fact of the matter, though.

He froze.

Curl up in to a ball, indeed. Maybe one of the reasons he hates Whirl so much is because he can hit the nail right on the slagging head.

Edited 2012-09-25 19:06 (UTC)

"Happened to me on another colony when I was chasin' X. Bright side, no one here was killed for it. On the other hand, you paid for it. We both did."

Not really a lecture. Not him leaving in disgust.

There is no perfect art of becoming a hunter of monsters. Slowly, one just sinks into the necessary struts and plating until it becomes natural.

Until you stop being afraid.

"This isn't an overnight repair, not at the spark level. Not like I don't know that."

The way he sees it, at least, is that Maximus has someone who gets it.

Because no fraggin' Maximal did. Primal lectured him, before he hopped onto the Axiom and disappeared, and after when they both ended up on prehistoric Earth. Nobody got it, nobody could, and all Primal could say was let it go.

No, he didn't get it.

Max does. Depth Charge does.

...of all the responses, taking it casually was not something Max had been expecting. It takes him aback, visibly so, and leaves him blinking as he turns his helm just enough to catch sight of Depth Charge. He's got to have at least something written on his face-

-no, not really.

...how the slag does that work? He can't even form any sort of words right now, nothing coming to mind.

Because for the first time since Rung, there's someone here who's actually listening to what he's had to say. More so than Rung, even, because that someone's actually understanding it.

Edited 2012-09-25 19:20 (UTC)

This level of... he isn't sure. Understanding? Connection. Something like that. It isn't normal; he's never had this either, it occurs to him. That's a weird feeling.

Depth Charge folds his arms and looks away.

"I'm not brushin' it off," he clarifies. "Just don't think you can say somethin' that'll surprise me."

There are differences, sure.

But they get it. Both of them. That's good enough.

Weird is an understatement.

"...maybe not."

As is the fact that things don't...quite. Seem to be at such a blreak end anymore. As if the talking helped.

For once.

Who'd have thought?

Not as though he's about to go rip roaring out to hunt Overlord, though, because there's still the problem of him being grossly outmatched. But...

Maybe being at a loss of how to proceed is better than figuring out how best to disappear, altogether.

Maybe. He's still not sure, yet.

"That's a thing then."

Better than nothing, right? That's the way he sees it.

In the end, at least, he feels he's made his point. Maximus doesn't look so dead to the world, and maybe he'll be a bit more lively later. Maybe.

Depth Charge turns about halfway.

"Anyway. I'm repaired an' set. ... Before I go." Ugh, he's not... good at this. But he's not going to turn his back on him either. "You want anything?"

For what it's worth, Fort Max isn't used to being in this sort of state, either. Once or twice he'd given company ~~or just the the unspoken and unacknowledged protection that came with his presence~~ to one of his fellow soldiers, but that was before Garrus entirely...and he'd never been on this side of one of those conversations.

First time for everything.

"...cube of highgrade?"

It's dry, as though he's relatively certain Depth Charge can't - or won't - get it. But hell.

Worth as shot.

"For a bot your size, that's gonna be about my size to carry. I'm strong, but I think the best I'd get you is a sampler."

Depth Charge shrugs a bit. "...But I'll see what I can do."

Maybe coax someone bigger than him to do it. That'd be easier, he thinks. It's not a promise, but he'll try.

Big guy could use it anyway.

"Whichever."

It's at least something he can do to make himself feel numb for a bit longer before he can...well. Finish pulling himself together. Couldn't hurt, right.

Besides, he needs something to wash the taste of medgrade and his own fuel out of his mouth.

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RUN, LOOK OVER THE HILLS [closed]

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