re_alignment_logs | To be or not to be... [Narrative / Open]

WHO: Thundercracker and whoever encounters him
WHERE: Lakeside by Alpha Trion's temple (~~hey, brooding by the lake worked for Ventus *shot*)~~
WHEN: Um....before Prism's post, actually, otherwise TC'd be occupied with that - so...yesterday? Or early this morning...
WHAT: ~~Worrying his aft off~~ Contemplations
WARNINGS: TC brooding? Otherwise, none really, unless someone else brings something. ~~Also TOTES NOT STEALING AN IDEA~~. OTL S-sorry? I got the idea for the narrative itself, the thoughts, without knowing where to put it. I was going to have him just idly flying, but then the idea of stones dropping into the water just...wouldn't leave me alone...

Thundercracker stared over the perfectly still water, trying to will his spark to be just as calm.

He was failing miserably.

Pit, that had been harder than he thought. Meeting Megatron again. The first one (well, second, but he had a hard time counting the negative-polarity mech, all things considered). Not his Megatron, not strictly. But close. Close enough. He still remembered how his spark had guttered a little, stalling and constricting, when he'd rounded that corner only to walk into the powerful overlord. Literally. He was probably lucky the cruel mech hadn't grabbed and twisted a wing for making him drop the things he'd been carrying.

That mech was gone now, having been a Glyphless. But now another had appeared . . .

Lord Megatron. Here. Not the one he'd chosen to swear himself to recently (and how well was that going to go over!?), but a mech more like the one he'd sworn himself to eons ago. And regretted far too many times since.

Thundercracker was a Decepticon. In terms of the values and goals of his faction - at least the ones they used to have - he still carried the brands on his wings willingly. But in terms of the turns they'd taken somewhere along the way, in terms of the character and cruelty of the mech they followed, he-

One day, maybe. One day he might ~~find the courage~~ ~~the audacity~~ finally decide to go ahead and clean the marks from his wings and declare himself a Neutral.

The war didn't exist here. The reasons for the war didn't exist here. There were Decepticons, but there was no single, unified force, the mechs merely left to their own devices. There were Autobots, but they seemed just as widespread and only nominally "associated" - as friends, as comrades, but not as a cohesive "faction". There was an Optimus Prime here. Somewhere. Thundercracker had yet to lay optics on him, or really to hear much of him at all.

There was no reason for Thundercracker to remain a Decepticon. Not really, not if he didn't want to. He'd only remained as long as he had before to stay with his trine. And because it gave him purpose, for better or worse. And because . . . because he was afraid of Megatron, afraid that he'd not live to leave the faction if he tried. Or worse, that he would live . . .

His trine wasn't here. An alternate of his trine leader was, but . . . it wasn't the same, as desperately as he wanted it to be. And Megatron wasn't - hadn't been - here. Thundercracker had started to let himself believe that maybe, finally, he could be free again. He'd started letting himself be his own mech for the first time in millennia. He'd done what he wanted, when he wanted. He'd made a few friends, including organics and even an Autobot or two. He played at being a bouncer at a bar - how long had it been since there'd even been a bar anywhere to bounce at? He'd just joined the police force as an enforcer. He was living a life that was his own again.

And then Megatron had showed up. A Glyphless Megatron, granted - one who was gone now - but it had been a jarring wake-up call. That another Megatron could show up, one who was a Marked . . . and then what would he do?

And now one has. Still not "his" . . . but . . .

Thundercracker growled at himself - for his doubts, his indecision, his weakness, his fear. He stooped, picking up a stone from the ground. He turned it over in his fingers - it's the size of a small boulder to a human - then tossed it out far over the water. It didn't bounce at all like he saw Ventus's stones do. Instead, it just broke the surface with a soft plop and sank into the murky depths, quickly and with little hope of recovery.

The Seeker couldn't help thinking it was a metaphor.

Or an omen.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It might say something for the normally alert soldier's mindset that he doesn't even seem to register the other's approach until the flyer is pretty much on top of him. With a gasp and a snarl, Thundercracker swings around, bracing into a ready fighting stance with both rifles up and powered. Nothing personal, Wing. He's just reacting subconsciously on the knowledge that if he does ever step far enough out of line, it will be another Seeker or three, other flyers, sent to deal with him - to kill or, worse, to capture him.

But he does know the sound of Wing's engines. That actually registers first, occurring to him an instant before the rest of his processor catches up with the sight of the mech before him.

Cursing silently at himself for the jumpy reaction, he drops the ready stance as quickly as he took it, straightening with a flick of his wings. "Wing . . . sorry." He debates for an instant with his reflex to want to be left alone, but he can hear Skywarp in the back of his mind: You're brooding again, TC. Stop that. He vents a sigh and shakes his head. "No . . . no, not at all." He gestures for . . . for his friend to come join him at the shoreline.

It's a bad idea, at best, for a Decepticon to claim friends, for any number of reasons. But if Thundercracker's honest with himself, he knows that he's genuinely made a few since arriving here. And that he may be needing them. Soon.

Wing should really know better: Drift had always been jumpy in the same way, defensive when surprised or jostled out of recharge. But the jet is a little too lost in his musing to have that much forethought and instinctively chose the highest point to land.

He starts at the sudden movement, hands going wide and wings staying reflexively unfurled. When the Seeker relaxes though, so does he. "It's all right. My fault on the rear approach," he says as he approaches, the silvery flight panels folding elegantly against his back.

"It's beautiful, this part of Haven." In truth, being able to say that about any part of Cybertron feels nice. His mouth twitches. "Perfect for reflection..."

Thundercracker nods, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "That it is. So what brings you here?"

It does but really doesn’t register that the mech might have landed specifically for him.

"I tend to make a circuit that includes the lake when I fly each morning." He looks out over the water, its mirror-like surface catching the likeness of the temple in its reflection. "It's very serene, good for...contemplative efforts."

He offers a small smile. "I just noticed you here and thought I'd say hello. You're well I hope?"

Thundercracker starts to reply – to say that he was fine – but then he can’t. Because . . . he isn’t. And if he isn’t going to face this alone, he needs to admit it. To tell someone</>. Wing might find him weak for it, but in this moment, the weary Seeker frankly doesn’t care.

“I . . . no, actually. I’m not.” He cycles a heavy sigh through his vents. “You saw the post from that Megatron. The one with Megatronus’s sigil.” He looks at his friend. “What did you think of it?” He wants someone else’s observation and opinion, knowing his own is too clouded to be reliable.

To be or not to be... [Narrative / Open]

You're playing the right character, then. XD

Decepticons, I think he likes collecting them. :3

TC is surprisingly okay with this. XD

Most excellent! :D

<3