re_alignment_logs | the world outside is dark. [NARRATIVE/OPEN?]

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the world outside is dark. [NARRATIVE/OPEN?]

WHO: Ultra Magnus. Open if anyone wants to visit him for some reason.
WHERE: His office at the enforcer's HQ.
WHEN Sometime after the Glyphless are all dealt with.
WHAT: There's a lot on Ultra Magnus's mind, but the Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord never rests. There's always a task to see to.
WARNINGS: Various mentions of character death in various ways.

There's still a tired ache in his joints.

Everything with Ultra Magus concerning things like attention to emotions, how to phrase certain things, how to consider a perspective and maintain a sense of being professional no matter how he might actually want a certain matter -- it boils down to the aspect that he needs to behave a certain way because that is what is needed of him. Ultra Magnus must remain a reliable constant.

That doesn't change what he is internally. Not as he silently handed off Drift's body to Wing. Not as he carefully cradled Tailgate's corpse in one arm despite how energon dribbled down to his wrist because of the shot in the head. Finding Swerve, tending to him, trying to not think of how Tailgate sobbed and apologized. Optimus asking him to keep watch over Smokescreen. Collecting Hot Rod's body from Solus Prime.

Or when he finally stood in Alpha Trion's quadrant, looking at Blurr's hard work, and began to arrange graves.

Alone, he allows himself a long time to just. Hold Rodimus in his arms for one last time. He'd tried to repair some of the external damage, because he couldn't bear to see what he had to do. It doesn't change the fact that the colors are faded now. He knows what he had with Rodimus wasn't meant to be very deep, but it didn't change how fond he was of the young, impulsive, potential-filled captain. For Rodimus, it was purely a good physical interaction. For Ultra Magnus, it got more complicated, despite his own attempts to stifle those thoughts and feelings.

In his silence, he calmly places Rodimus away with the others.

He should, logically, see to his own repairs eventually. He knows that. He doesn't tend to put that sort of thing off until the last minute, but this is different and complicated and he can excuse it. Repairs? No, he'll point the medics in other directions. There are others injured besides him, after all.

No, he wants to feel this for a little longer.

It's silent now that they're dead. Magnus slowly limps his way into the headquarters so carefully crafted by McCrane and his friends, finding himself in his office. A familiar, clean comfort zone where nothing changes.

So he sits, pulls up a datapad, and considers.

Right. He should maybe write a report. That would be suitable. Professional.

The enforcer gets to work, as always.

There is one constant that should never change. Ultra Magnus will be that constant.

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If Rung was going to be honest, this was the sort of thing he was far too use to. After living for as long as he had and working with the Wreckers especially, Rung had seen countless numbers of comrades and associates fall victim to death.

But that never made it any easier. Especially this time around.

He'd felt so absolutely helpless, more so now than he ever had before and even now, as arrangements were being made, Rung wasn't sure where to even start. There were so many that he wanted to help, that he wanted to check on but finding them all was the key thing. Luckily, though, there was one bot, a bot that had been directly involved in a lot of what had gone down with the glyphless, that he did know how to find easy enough.

So that's where he headed.

Hesitating at the door, Rung lifts a hand to knock on the door frame, not even bothering trying to school his expression--he's never been good at that after all.

"..Ultra Magnus?"

The Decepticon had been a surprise.

So is this.

Work is slower to manage as he tries to force himself to focus. To type and sort, but the words are difficult. Harder than usual. He doesn't entirely understand why. After all, Ultra Magnus has been doing this sort of thing for a few million years.

Of course, he's never really had to kill comrades, much less these circumstances. Still...

He pauses, glancing up towards the psychiatrist.

"Rung," Magnus addresses him. "What can I do for you?"

" ...I wanted to make sure you were alright," the therapist replied softly, taking a step into the office, then another. He studied the other, taking in his appearances and any little clues that might be there that Rung knew to look for wih anyone he worked with.

It was all about reading others after all.

"are you?" Rung pauses a few steps away from the desk, head tilted just slight. He could tell the other wasn't but he wanted to hear what Magnus had to say.

Of course. Not only for his sense of professionalism, but Rung is kind at spark. It makes sense that he'd make time to check on Ultra Magnus. Though the immediate response he wants to give is of course in regards to the fact that he's all right.

It's just. He knows, internally, that something doesn't feel right. For all that he tries to remain detached, it's suddenly harder.

"I require repairs and I am likely due to a recharge cycle, all of which will be attended to when I am done with my reports." Ultra Magnus leans back a little in his chair, exhaling wearily.

"I'm. Certain that there are others who will require your assistance. I can still tend to my duties."

Rung nods a bit, taking note of the response and the new show of obvious weariness. None of it is a surprise, really, considering how much of an influence the other has in Haven; how much other's look to him.

"I am quite certain there are, sir," Rung said, nodding in agreement as he tucked his arms behind his back. "But, all things considered, I think it would be wise for you to take care of yourself, first, before you run yourself ragged. You've been trough and been doing quite a bit, Magnus, you deserve a moment to recooperate...to grieve and heal, just like the rest of us."

The therapist closes the distance to the desk, moving around it some and leaning against it.

"...Is there anything I can do? To help you."

Carefully, he watches Rung. Not because he distrusts the other. Quite the opposite, really. For Ultra Magnus, he knows he needs to uphold himself. Keep himself contained.

That's important.

But he listens to the professional.

"I." There's a pause, almost a stammer. "The Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord must remain a reliable constant."

He's never felt quite this helpless before, though. At a loss. Nearly vulnerable. There's no doubt in his mind that he could pursue his work if needed, but he knows if it was anyone else, he'd take Rung's advice and insist they follow it.

For them.

"I don't know," Ultra Magnus finally admits to the psychiatrist. "I've seen and experienced much, but this is. New to me. I don't know what kind of help to ask for."

It's a start.

"And to be reliable, you need to allow yourself the chance to handle your own problems before attempting to solve others," the therapist countered gently, not trying to be rude, just tryin to get the point across.

An understand look crosses Rung's face and he shifts some, resting a touch more comfortably against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What's new about it? What exactly about the situation has you thrown off?" he asks, hoping that it he can break down the problem, he can help Magnus put it all back together in a manageable way.

Irrefutable logic. Ultra Magnus listens carefully, his optics dimming somewhat; it isn't rude, it's purely factual. He respects Rung to know how to do his job, much in the way he expects that the therapist would respect him when it comes to enforcing laws.

So, he becomes more attentive. Datapads are ignored and Ultra Magnus folds his hands together as he gives his complete focus to Rung.

"I can't think of many occasions where I've been forced to kill my own crew," Ultra Magnus says very plainly. "My captain, especially. I can accept when they die; that is battle. That is war. Death is eventual and I've no choice but to accept that. But this was different; my enemies were comrades and my commanding officer. I..."

He exhales much more sharply. "There is one other factor. I suppose something I should confess to you."

Rung nodded a bit, listening and taking mental notes as he let Ultra Magnus speak. He understood, completely, and had heard such a thing before from bots he'd work with in the past. It was hard to deal with, extremely hard, and it was no surprise that the bot before him was having trouble dealing with it.

"It becomes more of an emotional matter, when it's individuals that you are close to in some manner," the therapist said in an understanding manner, optics flickering just a bit at the sharper exhale.

Something to confess?

"You can tell me anything, Magnus."

"I've lost friends before. This was... different."

Becoming detached is no easy feat, but he's had to. Perhaps this would be a shy easier if the circumstances were different. He'd still feel, but he could control himself better. This, though.

It was different for many reasons.

"I. Broke a few regulations." Ultra Magnus doesn't hide a wince. "Rodimus asked for my help sometime before all of the glyphless began to lose their minds. I, er. ... I became involved with him."

Oh.

Well.

"So..in the case of Rodimus, you didn't just lose a friend..you lost someone that you were attached to on a different sort of emotional level?" Rung asked softly, wanting to clarify just to make sure he wasn't making the wrong assumptions.

That's just how it seemed to come off. And everything made a lot more sense now.

"That sort of loss isn't easy. At all," the therapist said in an understanding tone, knowing full well that it wasn't easy, by any means.

"I think it was supposed to be purely physical. Rodimus isn't-- wasn't the sort to settle down with anyone." Slowly, Ultra Magnus folds his arms, his optics settling on something else in the room. "I couldn't stay particularly detached in this case."

Not easy. Then there is no easy solution.

"I don't know what to do," he admits. "I was unable to stop this, as I should have."

He let down everyone. Ultra Magnus does not let himself often stagnant with thoughts like the past; he cannot change what has been. He can only control his own actions.

This was... different, of course.

"There is a lot I should have done differently. Perhaps I should have refused him."

"He never came off as the type, no," Rung agreed, being honest with Magnus about his own observations. Their commander was definitely the type to just..flit about freely.

The therapist's expression softens a bit, allowing the other to get through everything he has to say before he dares to say anything else himself.

"You shouldn't blame yourself for anything that happened, Magnus. Nor should you regret the decisions you made concerning Rodimus. You did what you wanted to do, and there's nothing wrong with that," he said softly. "Hanging onto those regrets is going to make it harder to look at the good memories you might have to counter them. Don't focus on the bad and don't blame yourself. You are only one bot, Magnus, and you did everything you could. Not even the Firstforged had a true answer for this...we all failed our comrades but if we allow ourselves to wallow in those regrets and that failure, we'll never be able to continue on."

It's difficult. No, not all of him regrets the decision, but if he had turned down Rodimus, maybe his attentions could have been better spent on solving the glyphless issue. But he is not a scientist, so perhaps nothing would have been different.

Dwelling on that doesn't change the past. It won't do him any good. It doesn't really make him feel any better, but he knows he ought to just accept that fact.

"I suppose you're right." It's hard to argue with Rung in the first place. "Is there anything that can be done to make this... simpler?"

Complications aren't really his thing, despite how often they seem to happen.

"Time. And allowing yourself to actually deal with the emotions instead of pretending they aren't. That's the most important part of moving on and healing," the therapist said with a kind smile, a reassuring look in his optics. It would be hard, Rung knew that first hand, but Magnus was strong..and if the other allowed himself to seek help now and then, the therapist was sure he'd be alright.

And even if he didn't seek help, Rung would check on him.

"And don't try to force yourself when it comes to moving on, Magnus, because that won't solve anything. I promise you it won't," Rung murmured, giving the other a pointed look.

"...I see."

So time. And it won't go away immediately. Over six million years of being online and he's been able to manage himself efficiently. Slips here and there, but otherwise, Ultra Magnus has not needed this sort of assistance before. He's always managed himself tightly, constricted.

Things are changing, ever since the war ended. Is he changing, too? That's a terrible idea.

"Then I'll have to be patient with this. Let it... be what it is."

Rung nods a bit, moving to stand up straight again, tucking his arms behind his back now.

"Exactly. It'll..be hard. I won't lie, Magnus," he said sincerely. "But I have no doubts you'll be able to overcome it all. Just..remember what I said...alright?"

He wants to see Magnus pull through this alright and has every intention on helping when he can.

"There are few things that I've done that can be construed as easy. The hard way is usually anticipated."

There's a pause, then Ultra Magnus exhales from his vents before nodding to Rung. "Thank you. For listening. Sharing on a level outside of what I've been forged for is... not so simple for me."

"You don't have to thank me, Magnus," Rung said with a slight shake of his head. "I don't mind helping others, at all."

This is what he did after all. And when it came to someone he respected, like Ultra Magnus, he wanted to do whatever he could to help and solve the issues at hand.

"I know. It's what you do."

A factor in which he can admire. Rung does work that Ultra Magnus cannot even dream of doing; he himself has no sense of assuring or assisting others emotionally. He was forged for protecting others purely on a physical basis.

This? This is out of his league.

"But allow me to give some gratitude. I can't offer much else in return."

The therapist nodded a bit, agreeing with the statement because, well, yes, that is what he did. It's the only thing he really could do for others most of the time since he'd never taken up any sort of fighting cause.

One generally needed modifications and weapons to do that sort of thing, both of which Rung lacked.

There was a slight, flustered sort of look on Rung's face as Magnus spoke again, the therapist never good at responding to positive comments like this.

"I...of course...I'm just glad to help, Magnus. And you're welcome.."

They're alike in that way; Ultra Magnus often performs his duties with zero expectations of gratitude or positive remarks. To receive either or both, he's a bit unsure of how to deal with it.

"I think that, perhaps for now, I should finish my reports." Or try to.

Work gives him a sense of control, something he feels he desperately wants.

"You're welcome to stay, of course, but it won't be terribly interesting watching me work."

"...Could I offer some help?" Rung offered after a moment of thought, wanting to stick around for at least awhile longer just to make sure the other was going to be alright.

Worrywart all the way~

"I'm not sure how much you have to do but...I don't have anything to do at the moment."

"I need to document what's happened. Though perhaps you could assist in arrangement of dates, to organize the events that happened. This is not my best report I've made."

Rather, it's been hard to focus and he could possibly stand to use someone to double check its quality. Though no doubt Blurr would understand it if he turned it in the way it is, Ultra Magnus is hardly one to make excuses for himself in any regard.

Even if he has room for it.

Rung nodded, offering a faint smile to the other.

"I'd be happy to help with that," the therapist replied, turning so he was actually facing the desk now instead of looking at Magnus. "Where do you need me to start?"

It didn't matter to him how long it took, just that he could help and at least it was something.

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