re_alignment_logs | (no subject)

WHO: Vector Prime and YOU!
WHERE: Solus Prime's medbay!
WHEN During the week; timing can be flexed.
WHAT: COME VISIT VECTOR IN THE MEDBAY. He is an unhappy (not-so-)little spacejet recovering from his fight against Ramjet!

Somewhere between indignant and chagrined regarding his loss against Ramjet, Vector Prime had not taken the enforced rest lightly. True, he had been in no condition to move until lately, but ever since the initial pull out of consciousness to ensure that his processor was, in fact, fully functional...

Perhaps if it wasn't, he wouldn't have to bear the disapproval of his kin so harshly. It had been made clear to him - rightly so - that by going against Prima's decree to wait, he had made a grave error. Made clear in more ways than one, but...!

But nothing.

He took to Solus' continued ministrations under mute protest, impatient to return to his duty and to at least try to regain some standing among his peers. As well as among the other residents of the Haven. But until now, he was all but confined to this medbay, and he itched for some room to spread his wings. Metaphorically or not.

Perhaps this, too, was a form of penance for his error, but it was hardly a useful one.

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It was not a suggestion that Vector had enjoyed giving, for what it was worth. Nor was the entire situation one he could simply accept.

Which could very well explain why he is where he is now.

"Ultra Magnus." There is the ghost of a smile from the larger mech, something rueful. "So I have gathered. It is flattering."

He was under the impression most didn't like him - them.

It's a rare moment in which Ultra Magnus feels he ought to salute someone. Now really does feel like the time, but he refrains, for now. Hopefully, the sense of respect he has for Vector Prime is emulated well from his words and tone.

"I feel that I owe you more than a mere apology," Magnus admits, his voice a fraction quieter. "You warned me. Though I don't think still I could have killed any of them before they went insane, I should have been more proactive. You fought hard, and paid for it."

The look on his face is grim, far more than typical for someone so serious like Ultra Magnus. He knows what everyone's informed him already: he'd done what he could, he needs to stop blaming himself, stop the guilt.

He can't. He doesn't know when he can stop. Not today. Not tomorrow.

"Is there anything I can do?" Ultra Magnus has never been one to rely on words alone. A mere apology seems like nothing in comparison if he could physically perform an action for someone he felt owed to.

"..."

The look Vector Prime offers Ultra Magnus...well, it's clouded. There's no pity there, though it could be mistaken for such. There's subtle nuances in his posture, in his body, that suggest...

Empathy?

No.

"I was foolish," he says after a moment, looking away. "I was tired of simply watching this happen, and so I let my impatience get the better of me. In doing so, this is my just reward."

His fingers curl in to a slow fist.

"I would have preferred to have been proven wrong, in saying that there was nothing that could be done. If you wish to do anything, then find a way to do that.

The look given just makes him pause and consider. All he can think of is the three he had to kill. The morbid acceptance from Hound, Tailgate's pleading and apologizing, and Rodimus...

Rodimus is complicated. It's still painful, wrenching his spark, and he could only confess to Rung as to why. No one else needs to be bothered with the truth of that matter. He clenches a fist.

"This could happen again," he states slowly, quietly. "It's been said that this has happened before. Were there others like us before we arrived, Vector Prime?"

That is a complicated question.

And Vector Prime is quiet for some time before he emits a sigh. One that has his wings rattling slightly as the vents cycle fully, from the ones that have restored to the ones that stutter with ill ease of operation...

"The answer is already around you, Ultra Magnus. By our own and the Acolytes' hands - we have only built our own dwellings, our own Temples. Most everything else...had other hands."

The answer seems a bit vague, but truthful enough. No doubt there's much to say and never enough time to explain what's happened. He'll respect that.

"If I may ask, what happened to the others?"

Unicron has been a name mentioned a few times. Responsible for those unmarked, and for much else it seems. The one to truly blame, Wing seemed to insist.

He'll approach that topic soon enough.

What happened to the others.

Vector's optics dim, then, the golden fading to black. His face clouds, his wings go still, and there is pain there, of a sort Ultra Magnus may or may not recognize.

It is not so dissimilar from his own.

"Lost," is all the Prime says, only so much louder than a murmur. "We do not speak of it."

The reaction is more familiar to him now than it would have been prior to the arrival of the glyphless. Ultra Magnus is silent for a moment as he digests this response, the ridges to his optics narrowed and fixed together.

He'd be able to react with detachment before. It is harder now.

"I see," he replies finally. "I apologize; I did not intend to remind you of something painful."

There are many questions he'd like to ask. Though perhaps now isn't an appropriate time, not when Vector Prime has much to recover from. Magnus had come to apologize, to see if he could do anything for the Firstforged; here he is asking questions. Looking for answers.

Because he hates complications. He dislikes how his own situation has become difficult like this.

"I won't take anymore of your time. Thank you."

A soft 'hhn' is the only response he gets to the apology. If he continued asking - it's easily possible Vector simply won't answer.

Or perhaps he would. In this state, he's all but unreadable.

"Be well, Ultra Magnus," he says, lighting his optics once more. "Though it may not be worth much...I am...sorry. For what has happened."

For a long moment, Ultra Magnus stands there. Many have apologized for what had transpired. True, it would still hurt even if Rodimus hadn't been here; he still would have been forced to kill Tailgate and Hound. It'd still be painful.

But there's not anything quite like how he feels now. Knowing what he had, what he had allowed himself. Even if he'd never outright told Rodimus -- Primus forbid it, how could Magnus? -- it was there. He opened that part of him.

Now all that's left are scars on his mind.

"As am I, Vector Prime," Ultra Magnus responds carefully.

Few can understand. Few will.

That's fine. He just wishes he could easily go back to being the unmovable, unchanging mech he'd been.

Ultra Magnus turns away and takes his business else where. He may as well see how Mirage and others have been going in their recovery.