re_alignment_logs | Kinda Always Knew I'd End Up Your Ex Girlfriend [CLOSED]

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Kinda Always Knew I'd End Up Your Ex Girlfriend [CLOSED]

WHO: Nemesis Prime, Barricade, and later on, Ramjet
WHERE: outside/around Solus Prime's temple
WHEN BACKDATED SLIGHTLY A DAY OR TWO
WHAT: Nemvoy goes to see Barricade concerning a few...changes.
WARNINGS: hhhmrmrhm nothing right now? will edit if something happens

His systems were shifting.

At first, subtle enough to ignore, but when Nemesis came out of a rough recharge cycle to find that some of his very armor had- had grown fur, then he had stopped trying to dismiss it. His audials, too, were shifting in to a more horn-like shape, one that he hadn't recognized until he found a reflective surface.

At that point, he'd commed Barricade, and all but demanded they meet. Considering Barricade was one of the mechs he trusted most, and he was a medic, and he was one of the few he really knew at all in these new situation where so much could easily go wrong-

To say he hurried would be an understatement. Convoy Super Black - whatever he called himself, he was what he was - was being reintroduced to an emotion he did not like, and was doing what he could to put it to a point where he could actually deal with it.

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Being busy has been a welcome reprieve around here; Magnum - Megatron - and Convoy have been keeping him on his metaphorical toes lately. And not having to prove himself as a medic or explain his ruined insignias is both new and pleasant. He's grateful for it.

While Convoy wouldn't have to demand anything of Barricade (heavens know he's come running even when he shouldn't), the fact that he does suggests that something is going wrong. Wrong in that way that he's not sure he can handle on his own.

He rushes, a little, getting out to his friend. This was one of the mechs that mattered. One of the few left that did. And by the Cube, he is not going to fail. He'll figure this out. Somehow.
"What's-" he starts, pausing when he notices that things are not right. Uh.

You look like you've never seen a car sporting a bit of fuzz before, Barricade. It's transforming quickly enough, though, with a few bits of armor showing changing in other ways, too - curves, mainly, but it's where the armor /isn't/ that is starting to have the real differences.

Nemesis stares at Barricade a moment, then at the temple behind him. Then back to the ex-Con. "Not here."

He's fine meeting you here, but- just a bit of distance. A mile's enough for him.

Barricade, for the moment, stifles his questions and just nods. He doesn't know what to make of this at the moment. He's used to mechs altering their alt modes; it's one of the things they often did back home. But not like this. It's... unnatural.

"Lead the way." It would be better to be farther from the temple, he knows - Solus Prime had warned him enough about the situation.

Keeping out of range of upsetting her or her acolytes would be best.

A nod of his own. And Nemesis doesn't transform again, just- walks. Quickly. Maybe a jog, but not quite a run. He moves in silent, clearly more intent on getting the distance so they can get down to why he came, rather than trying to fill the air with idle chatter. Or humor.

The kind he remembers them doing every so often, back on the station.

It's only when they've reached an outcropping does he slow, and then stop, reaching up to irritably scratch at some of the armor at his chest. Unnatural is an understatement, and now that he's actually put the effort in to noticing it, he can't ignore it any more. It may not be spreading by the second, but it's not for lack of him waiting for it to do so.

May as well get started. He looks back at Barricade, the light in his optics shifting with...well, Barricade can read him well enough.

He's disturbed, bordering on actual fear.

"I can't remember when this started. Just that I noticed it today."

The silence isn't something he's used to. Barricade usually tried to keep something going on at times like this, but this time it's just the sound of them walking. It doesn't do anything to calm his nerves; too many memories of unpleasant silence.

Too many people lost in the past.

He slows when Convoy does, moving up beside him. That look he gets is one he doesn't want to analyze, even if he already knows. It was part of his job, after all. Know what his close comrades were thinking before they had to say anything.

Barricade eventually reaches for him, claws carefully touching along armor seams and at the fur. Avoiding his audials, for now. There's only so much he can take at one time. His facial plating twitches slightly, confused and worried.

"I don't... I've seen a lot of things, but I've never seen this happen."

Abraxas's corruption he could handle, after a fashion. But this?

It doesn't feel any different. At least, the pressure and touch sensors read fine. Nemesis can feel Barricade moving along it just fine, the different between sections all but seamless. There's no disorientation, no jolt...

It all feels natural.

And that concerns him.

"My...former body."

Perhaps he shouldn't bring it up. But- he already has. There's a long silence from him as he wars, back and forth, between continuing, and finally...

"Mammoth. A...Beast mode."

This is starting to remind him of it.

There's no discernible difference between the sections, aside from the obvious. And that is what is most disconcerting, to him. There is nothing to fix because, from what he can tell, nothing is broken. It's not some kind of corruption, or disease, or anything. It just... is.

"And me without much training with Beast modes, you just had to get all furry on me," he murmurs, humor in his tone falling flat. He doesn't like where this is starting to go.

He likes less that he doesn't know what to do about it.

"They didn't say anything about physical alterations."

The humor earns an irritated rumble. Only his respect of Barricade keeps him from snapping, "I didn't want this to happen!" Instead, it sounds more sour. Almost petulant.

But he shakes his head quickly. Apology, dismissal. One or the other. Move past that, find a solution, or maybe a reason, or-

"Perhaps, because I was once...?"

He doesn't know. He's guessing.

Barricade had earned some ire about that, he knows. He doesn't say anything about it, just narrowing his optics a little in though.

"Maybe. Or they failed to mention it. I don't know. It's nothing I've ever seen before. And all they said was the ones without Glyphs would change."

And that the ones that had them would have to deal with the situation.

"Maybe this is part of it."

Which doesn't make it any better.

Another irritated rumble...but it's not at Barricade. This is at the mention of the Firstforged. Nemesis pulls himself away, taking a step towards the wall and raising an arm to lean against it, and then to lean against in turn...

"There- must be a way to stop this. There has to be. Some way of mirroring those - 'Glyphs' - at least in part, at least to slow this madness..."

He doesn't...

He doesn't want this.

"Have you learned anything else?" he asks, looking back at Barricade.

Barricade lets him go, hands falling and shoulders slumping a little. He only wishes he could bring better news.

"They've tried. Don't know how many times. You know I don't put much stock in them-" or their supposed power anyway "-but I... I wouldn't even know where to start, to try to find a way. Mystical symbols aren't something that were covered in medical or piloting training."

Funny, how he could pull mechs back from death, but he can't do scrap the one time it really matters.

"Solus wished me luck and said it'd be my job to... take care of things before they got out of hand," he mutters finally, a ragged edge to his voice.

"If they cannot fix it, are they too cowardly to take care of it themselves?"

Why they would put it on the shoulders of the others...it's the Firstforged's duty to take care of the spawn of Unicron. If they're so convinced they're all pitspawn...Nemesis shakes his head, fists gripping.

And then, abruptly, he turns to slam a fist in to the metal rock, emitting a savage, beastlike snarl of - anger? frustration? helplessness.

He does it again.

It doesn't make him feel any better.

"Doubt anyone would take kindly to seeing their so-called protectors destroying their friends, whatever the reason."

Which they still are, at this point. Mostly. Barricade hopes so, anyway. Though it makes him stop and think, for a moment, and he balls one hand and finally looks up.

"And if anyone is going to be taking care of my friend, then by the All-Spark it is going to be me. At least then there can be some fragging dignity to it."

As much dignity as he could give it. Which won't change anything, or make the situation any better. Certainly won't make him feel better.

But if it's all he could offer, in the end...

It's not-

Nemesis rests his forehelm on the rock, now, emitting a strangled sound from his vocalizer. Those words to anything but reassure him. Dignity is one thing, but-

"I've died before," he whispers harshly. "I remember dying. I may be a clone but I remember the death, I remember the agony of being cut apart, and I remember what is death. I remember-"

He's falling. Falling to his knees, fists still balled, helplessly sliding down with him as he sinks down.

"It is not dying that terrifies me, but the knowledge of where I will return."

His spark is not of Primus. When he dies, the Allspark will not be his fate. And if- by some lie, by some twist, he is real, he is not truly a clone of a Prime-

Then why, after forsaking him, would Primus take him back?

Barricade settles on his feet for a brief moment, before approaching slowly.

Funny, how many he's sent to their deaths, and how many he's lost, and how little he truly knows about what might come after. He'd always been the one pulled back from that edge... sometimes kicking and screaming and cursing all the way. But his concern had never been about Primus.

"Well. Guess that means you're in the same boat as I am, then. More or less."

He drops down onto his knees next to Convoy, voice quiet.

"We don't all get to know, until it happens. Don't know what's waiting on the other side so we fight harder to avoid it."

Barricade had a lot of time to ponder it, for a while, and still isn't sure if after there is something or nothing or if he deserves either.

Barricade...

You have the Allspark to look forwards to. Even if you don't know. For him...

At first, he's just shaking his head. Denying the comfort. He gets none, there is none, but-

He's grown used to Barricade being there. Grown soft, perhaps, but it's not denial that has him elaborate;

"I failed. Or my template did. For that, everything after. I was punished, for ages, pain and light and Him and..."

At that, he cycles his vents, heavily. They rattle with distortion, the shifting armor making them ill-fitting, or perhaps...something else.

"I do not want to be like that again," he whines, all but falling in to a lean against Barricade. Barricade, who's seen him like that, in a state where there is nothing but an aching desire for it all to end.

A desire he still carries with him, and is growing louder by the day.

Barricade holds steady, easily bracing himself and putting his arms around Convoy's shoulders. He knows he can't offer much, in these circumstances, aside from this.

He's no mech to judge who deserves what, beyond his own foolish dangerous sentimentality.

He rumbles his engine low, like he has at other points, when Convoy needed something to ground him. When his old instincts kicked in hard.

"I know," he murmurs, just pulling Convoy in against him. He doesn't want him to end up like that again, either. He doesn't want him to hurt.

It's something. Something familiar, something he accepts, relies on, and he lets himself absorb it, simply resting against Barricade after his...

Tantrum? Breakdown? Moment.

He still doesn't feel any better for it being out of his system - it isn't out, it's still there - but at least he's admitted it aloud. He always knew it, but somehow, vocalizing it seems to have done something to at least- take the edge off. A bit.

He just wishes he knew where to go from here.

This is one of the few opportunities Barricade gets anymore to do this. To be a rock for someone, even temporarily, and he'll do it to the best of his abilities. Whatever the circumstances. Because he's not going to leave Convoy high and dry.

Hearing all of that doesn't make things any easier, or better, but it does... something. It's been said, and he heard it. Maybe that's all it needed to do. He exvents quietly and stays like this for a while, finally able to let the silence be there, for a while.

But he has to break it eventually even so.

"What now?"

It's appreciated, Barricade. It's likely a vain gesture but...

"I've lived without hope for this long," Nemesis murmurs. "I suppose I could live with despair, too. For as long as I'm able to recognize it as such."

But to what actually do...

He shakes his head. He doesn't know. If you have any ideas, he'll hear them.

He knows it probably is. But he has to try and he doesn't know what else to do. He's ill-equipped for this situation.

"Keh," Barricade manages, a short noise. "Is that really any way to live?"

He rumbles quietly. He only wishes he had better ideas, but if what the FirstForged said was true... he hardly wants to see Convoy become that again.

"Is there really a choice?"

Not that he's in a hurry to move. This is reminding him of better times, when the worst they had to go through was- well, moments that if not easily handled were at least able to be handled, and only once had it truly gone wrong. Avoidable from then on, so long as they took precautions.

"I can only think," he muses quietly, "what the others must be going through. They have no idea what is coming to them..."

He thinks he envies them.

"There's always a choice. Even if the second option is worse."

It's a fond reminder, at least. Things were slightly easier to take care of. They could handle them and move on, once they figured out what to do. Found ways to prevent it from going wrong like the one time. If only it was so relatively simple as that again.

"They don't. But they're going to be confused, and afraid probably. Angry, eventually."

It all feels so clinical, at the moment.

Anybody asked for a ~~date~~ party-crasher? Neither Barricade nor Nemesis probably did, but they'll get one anyway as Ramjet flickers into view.

As the Lambda's... Badlands... Unicron's influence slowly grows, he can feel that. And one of them in particular, even if the growing change is more... qualitative than quantitative, compared to the others.

"... And yet you asked if I'd go through this." He chuckles briefly, his voice somehow preceding him but the second Ramjet's into view, he's stalking around them, narrowly eyeing the "pile" they've made. "His presence all-encompassing, but it doesn't fill enough to drown out the cracks. And I would not have the whispers repeated from the beginning."

It doesn't matter that Barricade's here to hear that; it means nothing, in the end. An annoyingly large non-entity is what the mech is, but, even as metal flexes, rising into boils and burst to leave briefly pristine and exact details behind, Ramjet will do nothing. Not yet.

"You could come with him, you know." It's off-hand and sharp as Ramjet's gaze suddenly focuses on Barricade. "Be part of something that is meaningful to the absolute end, if you survived!"

Except for that. Look, he's trying to play nice!

Edited 2012-11-27 10:44 (UTC)

"Angry, and..."

Nemesis doesn't trail off so much as cut himself off, starting in surprise at the voice. He recovers quickly, optics narrowing as he forces himself together with a speed to be respected, pulls up his proverbial masks and shields, moves away just enough to catch sight...

But no more. He's too comfortable to move, Ramjet or not. But that doesn't mean he's not powering on his battle systems, just in case.

"A passing weakness," he rumbles, adknowledging his state and then moving past it. Perhaps not so passing, but...

Barricade is not part of this equation. He snarls, once, shifting to position himself between the two.

This isn't so much a protection as an outright claim. Barricade's fate is not for Ramjet to decide.

Someone else appearing out of nowhere isn't something he's accustomed to, but the fact that it's this someone sets him on edge. Barricade had gotten the warnings about this one, after all, and he knows roughly how much trouble those working for Unicron can be.

He doesn't move at all, just listening for the moment. As long as he seems to be ignored, anyway; he's no part of this, presence or no. On a cosmic scale he's about as important as the average fly...

But when Ramjet's attention focuses on him instead of just Convoy, his plating shifts. His wings flick back and individual sections of armor flair out. Natural old reaction to catching the attention of something bigger and meaner than him.

"Sorry. Just got off of one of those 'meaningful jobs'. The dental plan was really awful. And I don't see either of us going anywhere anyway."

It's like a house cat hissing at a mountain lion.

Nemesis' understated but very obvious action, and especially the meaning of it has Ramjet literally rearing backwards, optics wide. Once, Nemesis had done similar for...

There's no reason for his reaction, really. Nemesis as he is now, especially now, isn't a threat. At all, really. But if there's one thing Ramjet has kept through everything it's his penchant for drama.

Straightening up, his optics narrow again, twitching between Nemesis and Barricade.

"A pity. It would stretch out the time you have like mercury falling down a hill, and he would be less inclined to hurt you at the end." Ramjet's not even looking at Nemesis for now, leaned against a convenient rock with the temple on the far side of both him and the pair.

"So stubborn, Prime. I think it will be about as passing as the nothing between, as that which crawls on the opposite end of both Unicron and Primus." Ramjet finally glances over at Nemesis, and there's the hint of a smile in his optics.

Because Nemesis is. Apparently, when he's got the choice, he turly turns out like his template... how ironic.

"And you're either going to be a very small mammoth, or you have some growing to do." It amuses Ramjet. Enough to still the twitching of one hand, and the flicker of purple aura concentrating around it.

Optics on him, Ramjet. He's only slightly bigger than Barricade but he's certainly doing his best to block him completely. His red optics burn, never leaving Ramjet, locking on like some animal contesting dominance.

"I will be what I will be," he rumbles, doorwings flared. "But you have no place in its decision. Or those of my company."

If only he could stop it in such a way...but if he himself is doomed, is it too much to ask for to cripple the descent of others, to halt it? To undermine Unicron's goals- a last revenge, futile though it may be. A final strike...

Never once does he consider halting Ramjet directly. Not for the matter of being outclassed, it simply...doesn't occur to him.

Barricade would normally get annoyed about someone trying to shield him, but it's familiar to him; the last time this happened, Bonecrusher was imposing himself between the Saleen and an opponent. It means something.

"What happens, happens. Deal with it as it comes down the pipes." It's always been his policy, and it's served him well enough. In this case there isn't much else he could do.

Fighting Unicronians was not something he did regularly, and the last time didn't end well. But he can at least try to handle it.

Well, if you insist, Nemesis. Especially considering what was just said. Briefly, Ramjet's aura flares, insubstantial tentacles of energy forming from it and reaching outwards before collapsing on themselves as very organic-looking boils grow, but never actually breaks.

"And didn't I give you that? Though I see no decision having been made, Prime. I see a spark flickering at the edge of a cliff, and you're just hanging there, tearing little endless flickers out of yourself while you're eaten up from the other end and it hurts doesn't it? And in the end you won't have what you want anyway!" Ramjet smirks, but while his voice is thrumming, even reverbing strangely, it's all completely humourless. "I know what you wanted before, Prime, so why not end it when you can?"

He doesn't necessarily want that, but he couldn't have given Nemesis Prime what he wanted when he was Unicron's, and he's not going to do it now either. The inevitability of it tugs at his spark, plays havoc with the energy inside of him... that he is, terrifying and terribly amusing at the same time.

Ramjet can't decide which he'd want the most as there's not enough of him to make a coherent decision about it, so instead he'll needle. Needle and lash out because why not?

No place, indeed.

"And if you wait to long, child of Primus, you will regret it." Another melting grin, stiff and toothy as Ramjet throws his arms out. That last is for Barricade, and he's taken several steps closer by now, but his optics are on Nemesis.

His optics, which are decidedly flickering between mechanical and... not.

Edited 2012-11-27 20:17 (UTC)

"It wasn't yours to give - or take! You babble, Ramjet, rambling about things I am already aware of - and you have no idea what I want!"

The last is a snarl again, an angry, frustrated noise. He wants- he wants revenge, he wants to live, free of mind, he wants it all just to stop...!

He can't have what he wants. He'll get none of it. It's enough to drive one mad.

"Regrets are nothing new to me, I assure you," Barricade rumbles from his spot behind Convoy, tensing instead of shrinking away. He's not about to let this situation get the better of him.

Even if he knows this is all going to end poorly, whether now or later, and it will just be him again. He can deal with that. Eventually.

"No mech worth their salt ever just gives up. Even in the face of impossible odds, or 'the inevitable'. That's not how it works." Not for Cybertronians, and he'll gladly call Convoy one, no matter what he was or is or will be again.

"Ah." Ramjet holds up a finger, lambent, suddenly steady stare focused at Nemesis even if he's addressing what Barricade just said instead of Nemesis'... rankling outburst.

But then, this is really about Nemesis anyway. And perhaps something he, himself, can't have anymore.

"And when giving up, giving in, when the silence of a spark extinguished, however brief, fleeting it is, is the only way to really win... What then!" The amber faux-glass of his cockpit swirls while yet remaining in place and shape, forming almost-shapes that shouldn't be while blue and white metal melts, freezes and reforms in ways it shouldn't.

"Nevermind what you want now, Prime, because right now? Right now, you should seek what you searched for before, for in that lies the only way... If you want to remain what you are." Ramjet laughs, and the sound seems to break the immediate reality around him.

Nevermind the slight, brief ~~breaking~~ sway of the voice itself.

"Perhaps you should help him, if you wish to keep the inevitability of Unicron's touch to end where it will!" Briefly, Ramjet glances at Barricade, and then back to Nemesis, before he flickers out of view.

"Consider, Prime." That? Comes from right behind both of you, right before he teleports again. "Consider the sharp, edgeless hopelessness of being unable to choose to die. You know you couldn't have, unless the End, absolute and infinite had come! Consider the fact that you now can choose it!" Ramjet, once again in front of Convoy and Barricade, flings an arm out, palm up, one finger out... something between pointing and an offer.

Several details on Ramjet's form flicker and seem unable to decide what they should be, as tiny tentacles, both of energy and metal, twitch around him.

He can't choose. He never could. His stubborn devotion, the call of Unicron, had kept him alive through... that. Now it's a moot point, and he burns.

Nemesis?

Can choose.

Edited 2012-12-02 00:43 (UTC)

It would be a lie for him to deny he's considered taking his life in this state. To hope that this way he stays himself, that he defies Unicron a tool, that something comes out of it...

But there is no hope in it.

"What guarantee does death hold for me?" Nemesis demands, turning to keep an eye on Ramjet. "Or did you forget that it was death that spawned me?"

There is no hesitation in telling this 'secret' - however much it is or was one - between these two.

One, who knew him as well as anyone could - the other, who knows him as well as he let anyone outside of the Alternity.

They are both, in their own ways, the mechs he trusts most.

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Kinda Always Knew I'd End Up Your Ex Girlfriend [CLOSED]

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