Drift (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sword_redemption) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
re_alignment_logs2012-12-02 07:02 pm
sword_redemption) wrote in re_alignment_logs2012-12-02 07:02 pm
Entry tags:
stripping away fear
Who: Drift, Wing, Ambulon
What: Stopping Drift from being...Drift.
Where: Vector's, the Hub.
When: Today
Warnings: Probably a lot of yelling. Mostly at Drift.
What the hell is going on here?: Collapsing a locked post and actiony things into one so as not to spam the game with Driftidiocy.
There are caves under Vector's palace. He'd seen them before, catching glimpses as he drove over the bridges--little mouths of darkness in the crystalline walls.
And he's found one, now, where the wind through the chasm pulls a pure, beautiful note out of the stone, and at night, lights glimmered in soft, will-o'-wisp pastels, piezoelectric in the crystal. It's beautiful. And it reminds him of Crystal City, in ways that make sense probably only to him. Beauty, peace, and the knowledge of how precious life is when you realize you're about to die.
He didn't want to do this. But there was no other choice. He couldn't live in fear, any more than he could expect others to die in his stead. So he sat, day and night, holding that fear, studying, peeling it back, layer by layer, laying himself bare, good and ugly, bad and beautiful. He studied fear, how it moved through his body, copperwire and tight. He asked it questions, until he understood.
He'd been afraid on Cybertron, but here, he'd realized that fear of death is a selfish thing. It had been new to him, anyway: Deadlock hadn't feared dying. He'd gladly die, if it served a purpose, if it advanced the side of right.
He'd been on the wrong side, then, but that thought was still in him.
The fear he'd felt on Delphi was the fear of dying...for nothing. Fear of being trapped by his past, dying unable to escape who he'd been.
That was another world. That wasn't here.
He wasn't afraid of pain. A mech didn't stab himself through the chassis if he feared pain.
What he did fear, in the end, was hurting others. This was new to him, here. On the Lost Light, he had to say no one would miss him. Perceptor barely spoke to him. Rodimus was his one friend, but he knew no one could replace Rodimus in Rodimus's own spark.
Here...though.
And he couldn't shake that fear. He couldn't make the hurt of that go away. But he had to say good bye. Because Wing deserved, in the end, to know how he'd felt and what he meant.
He cycles one last vent of air, and turns on the comm.
"Wing.
There's something I have to do. Please believe me when I say there's no other way." He sighs, struggling for words. They're going to be his last ones, or the last ones he wants to be remembered by, not whatever puling weak sobs Tarn would probably pull out of him in his last moments.
"It's Tarn. He's going to want to kill me. He thrives on fear. It's what he lives for. He's the worst of what the Decepticons became--what you saved me from becoming.
"We need to know how he works, so we can stop him. We need--I need--him not to go after anyone else. And I can't let anyone 'protect' me. I...can't. I can't have someone else risk themselves. Not for me.
"I can find out how he works, how he kills. If the worst happens, I'll come back. Believe this. We've seen the dead return, and no one--no one--has more of a reason to want to come back." Because he has Wing, which he never had back in their world.
"Don't be upset, Wing. Please. I--I can't bear it. The thought of hurting you is what kept me from going after him the first time I saw him on the network. But he'll hurt you more, if we let him. He'll try to twist you up, make you live afraid of the future. I don't want that for you. Not about me."
He looks up, off camera, at the night sky, beyond the cave's mouth and gives a fond, almost tearful smile. "I used to look up, you know. Wherever it was, when everything seemed the most hopeless, I used to look up into the stars and find the brightest one and say 'There. That one is Wing, looking over me.' You've always been my brightest star. Please don't let this dim your brightness."
He pauses, for a long moment, whispering "I love you," before he cuts the feed. He's delayed long enough.
What: Stopping Drift from being...Drift.
Where: Vector's, the Hub.
When: Today
Warnings: Probably a lot of yelling. Mostly at Drift.
What the hell is going on here?: Collapsing a locked post and actiony things into one so as not to spam the game with Driftidiocy.
There are caves under Vector's palace. He'd seen them before, catching glimpses as he drove over the bridges--little mouths of darkness in the crystalline walls.
And he's found one, now, where the wind through the chasm pulls a pure, beautiful note out of the stone, and at night, lights glimmered in soft, will-o'-wisp pastels, piezoelectric in the crystal. It's beautiful. And it reminds him of Crystal City, in ways that make sense probably only to him. Beauty, peace, and the knowledge of how precious life is when you realize you're about to die.
He didn't want to do this. But there was no other choice. He couldn't live in fear, any more than he could expect others to die in his stead. So he sat, day and night, holding that fear, studying, peeling it back, layer by layer, laying himself bare, good and ugly, bad and beautiful. He studied fear, how it moved through his body, copperwire and tight. He asked it questions, until he understood.
He'd been afraid on Cybertron, but here, he'd realized that fear of death is a selfish thing. It had been new to him, anyway: Deadlock hadn't feared dying. He'd gladly die, if it served a purpose, if it advanced the side of right.
He'd been on the wrong side, then, but that thought was still in him.
The fear he'd felt on Delphi was the fear of dying...for nothing. Fear of being trapped by his past, dying unable to escape who he'd been.
That was another world. That wasn't here.
He wasn't afraid of pain. A mech didn't stab himself through the chassis if he feared pain.
What he did fear, in the end, was hurting others. This was new to him, here. On the Lost Light, he had to say no one would miss him. Perceptor barely spoke to him. Rodimus was his one friend, but he knew no one could replace Rodimus in Rodimus's own spark.
Here...though.
And he couldn't shake that fear. He couldn't make the hurt of that go away. But he had to say good bye. Because Wing deserved, in the end, to know how he'd felt and what he meant.
He cycles one last vent of air, and turns on the comm.
"Wing.
There's something I have to do. Please believe me when I say there's no other way." He sighs, struggling for words. They're going to be his last ones, or the last ones he wants to be remembered by, not whatever puling weak sobs Tarn would probably pull out of him in his last moments.
"It's Tarn. He's going to want to kill me. He thrives on fear. It's what he lives for. He's the worst of what the Decepticons became--what you saved me from becoming.
"We need to know how he works, so we can stop him. We need--I need--him not to go after anyone else. And I can't let anyone 'protect' me. I...can't. I can't have someone else risk themselves. Not for me.
"I can find out how he works, how he kills. If the worst happens, I'll come back. Believe this. We've seen the dead return, and no one--no one--has more of a reason to want to come back." Because he has Wing, which he never had back in their world.
"Don't be upset, Wing. Please. I--I can't bear it. The thought of hurting you is what kept me from going after him the first time I saw him on the network. But he'll hurt you more, if we let him. He'll try to twist you up, make you live afraid of the future. I don't want that for you. Not about me."
He looks up, off camera, at the night sky, beyond the cave's mouth and gives a fond, almost tearful smile. "I used to look up, you know. Wherever it was, when everything seemed the most hopeless, I used to look up into the stars and find the brightest one and say 'There. That one is Wing, looking over me.' You've always been my brightest star. Please don't let this dim your brightness."
He pauses, for a long moment, whispering "I love you," before he cuts the feed. He's delayed long enough.
no subject
But the rest of him hated it. The part that celebrated life and refused to give it up. The part that loved deeply and never wanted to lose again. And the part that wanted to help but was getting shunted off to the side. Oh, that part, was very, very angry.
The two raged in conflict now, sense trying to override more powerful sentiment and failing slightly.
"Yes he has! I can't--How could he not--ARRG!" His fingers claw at the open air again, his wings nearly unfurling to their full extension as he tried to shed his unrest.
There were two things Wing just couldn't abide by in this. One was Drift not allowing anyone to protect him. Oh, macro chance of that! If Drift got to pull the 'I can't see you hurt' card, so could Wing. And second, he refused to believe this was the only way. Even if it was...there must be a better way to execute it.
Cutting that thought off, he turned back to Ambulon, reaching out to clasp that hand. "I don't know if I'll be alright but I'm going after him regardless. If he's only just left then we should be able to get to him before he's in any real danger." Yes that's right Ambulon, 'we'. "I think if we head towards Vector's that's a good place to start."
no subject
"Me?" Ambulon blinked, pointing to his face. "Are you sure? I mean, maybe you should bring someone who knows how to, well, you know, fight." But, then again. He paused to think, frowning. If Drift was injured, he'd need a doctor. And Ambulon wasn't just about to call up First Aid and ask him to take over from here.
Though-- "Wait." Ambulon did take his arm this time, squeezed it tight. "We need to try and keep calm, all right? I know I'm not the best example to follow, but... You're upset. You've every right to be. However, you have to stay calm. Keep your head cleared. Warriors do that, right? They don't let their emotions dictate their actions or whatever." He swished a hand. "Either way, I'm just as pissed off as you, but..."
Ambulon looked Wing directly in the optics. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid. If Tarn's gotten to Drift, if he's injured him or possibly worse, you won't try to be a hero and fight Tarn." He sighed and released the mech's arm. "But you are a warrior. You know all this. I just don't know you well enough to know for myself."
no subject
"Yes I'm certain. I won't ask you to endanger yourself, and if Tarn is in the area then stay clear, but a medic could be handy. If we're lucky and it hasn't come to that yet..." Wing nods in a telling way, "Then you have every right to speak your mind about this whole idea same as I do."
It's coming all in a rush still, a bit frantic, fueled more by heated emotions than pure sense. The grip to his arms brings his focus back, and Ambulon's words remind him of important things. "Yes. Yes you're right."
He shutters his optics, taking a moment to perform three deep cycles through his cooling system, trying to find his center again. Ambulon, you know these mechs better than you realize. "I-I promise...this is just a rescue. If needed. I have no plans to go pede-to-pede with the mech."
A curt nod, "Shall we go then?"
no subject
"All right," he said, "by your lead, then."