Ultra Magnus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thehardway) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
re_alignment_logs2012-12-08 02:03 pm
thehardway) wrote in re_alignment_logs2012-12-08 02:03 pm
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.
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.
no subject
The larger of the two makes sure to move out of the way to let Blurr get comfortable.
no subject
"Sorry I'm probably staining your chair."
Blurr knew that Magnus wanted to keep everything clean and pristine and quickly moved to stand up again.
no subject
A hand rests on the blue speedster's shoulder, guiding him to sit back down. Ultra Magnus's optics look down at his commanding officer, silently insisting.
"Sit. Today, I can't bring myself to fret over it."
Usually, yes. He's strict about the cleanliness of his work area, but right now? It's the last thing he's worried about.
no subject
"You should be resting too, not here."
no subject
Instead, he leans against his desk, joints creaking in dismay.
"But thank you for considering me."
no subject
Blurr sighed. "I haven't since such madness since the war and even then it was not like this."