re_alignment_logs | And Ignite Your Bones

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And Ignite Your Bones

WHO: Barricade and OPEN!
WHERE: All over the Haven
WHEN About now-ish
WHAT: Barricade returns to the Haven after an absence
WARNINGS: n/a; will update when applicable

Barricade had shut his Link off shortly after he'd left the Haven, in the opposite direction from the Badlands. He'd seen it and there was nothing there for him; better to explore a little farther than he had before, while he gave himself time to think.

And to get as far away as possible so he could send transmissions out on old lines he rarely used anymore. No one was going to answer, but saying everything out loud, sending it all into space... had helped. Gave him a chance to breathe a little instead of keeping all of it in. None of it was anything he felt comfortable sharing with other mechs here; the last two he could have were... well.

That was why he'd gone in the first place.

Eventually he had to come back, though. Even if it was really rather nice out there. Seeing stars again... erupting volcanoes. Get past the whole rocky terrain thing and this Cybertron wasn't really too bad. But it was the bugs that brought him back. His headlights had attracted a cloud of the things and the trails of them leaven the Haven led him back. Like some stupid song.

So he'd come back.

(Option 1)
Barricade waves a few of the robo-bugs away from his headlights as he finally enters the Haven again, taking a look around before eventually heading in, intent on giving it the full once-over before heading to a certain spot that had gotten his attention when he'd turned the Link back on.

(Option 2)
He'd caught the mention of a graveyard out in Alpha Trion's quadrant when he'd turned the Link on again. He exvents as he approaches it, slowing to a stop. He'd disappeared for a while, but... time to pay his respects now. Stay a while with a little bit of quiet for once.

(Option 3)
Eventually he has to leave the graveyard behind. He can't stay there forever, after all. Once he decides to leave, he heads back to Solus Prime's temple. He could use a good cleaning... and finding someone that might be able to explain why that symbol on his shoulder has gotten larger. It's disconcerting and in this case, he definitely needs answers.

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The feeling is at least mutual, then. Good. Makes this less awkward in saying so.

[His wings flutter idly.]

I trust you more than Shockwave as well, although that appears to be evident. The war back home has not carried over, but our actions have. It is what is holding me back.

[One three letter word, really. And he's tried his best to put it below him...but it's not really something you can get over.]

Sure you aren't surprised by it, at least.

[That much hate for that long tends to run deep.]

... Ah. The scientist. Can't exactly blame you, and I do tend to get a bit... overzealous... when I haven't had a chance at something in a long while. Concerned I'll do the same here?

[He pauses for a moment, rolling his shoulders - the chains of the shotgun's holster clink against his armor lightly. When he speaks again, his voice is lower.]

The rest of you get away, you know.

[Mirage's voice turns almost sickeningly dark.]

He was important to me. I expect something from you.

[More specifically, an apology. He honestly can't move past it until that happens.]

....

We do?

If it's my head, I'm afraid I can't do that; I've gotten rather fond of it.

[He nods, slightly.]

You do. And I'd thank Bumblebee for killing Soundwave, if I could stand him for that long.

As much as I would like that as payment, I am not a Decepticon.

[Que wouldn't want him stooping that low.]

I want words.

[At least Soundwave's dead. That's one thing.]

I could say a lot about that statement, you realize.

[After all, Optimus Prime was getting a bit of a reputation.]

Words? Didn't exactly know him well enough for a eulogy, Mirage.

And I could say a lot more.

[His wings flare up. He's finally letting all the emotion out he's needed to. To process everything. After having it pent up for so long...he's needed this.]

Que was not a soldier. And pleaded for his life.

[He gets close to Barricade.]

I want an apology.

[Most of them plead. Innocent or not. Not that he's going to mention that at this juncture. It would hardly help.

Besides, this is bizarre enough.]

An apology.

[Someone wants an apology. From him.]

[That was true, but shooting someone who had no means of defense, not even built in...it rubbed Mirage the wrong way. Too far the wrong way.

There's a soft 'patapata' as his wings flutter, eyes narrowing as he leans in more.]

You heard me. To Que and myself.

[His voice, usually so smooth and collected, is now harsh and sharp.]

[Barricade isn't sure what it is about Autobots that they expect apologies from him.
Skyfire did the same thing over Barricade torturing Soundwave. The last sincere apology he gave wasn't even requested, and it was to the man he actually shot at.

Ah. There is always that.

Barricade seems unbothered by Mirage's proximity, and in fact shifts forward to crowd him in return.]

You'll get them, when I get apologies for what happened to Frenzy from those responsible.

[They're almost like two angry birds, ruffling their feathers at each other, attempting to show who's in charge of the conversation.]

Do not compare the two. Frenzy was killed as a means of self defense from the humans. Que was put on execution.

[Those blue eyes narrow.]

As much as I understand a loss for a partner, they are different cases.

You're right. They are different.

The loss of Que didn't leave an empty void in your processor.

[This isn't something he normally talks about, but he'd gotten too close to it lately... and ever since last year he's kept his former symbiont in mind at Christmas.]

And Que may not have had on-board weapons, but he surely built enough that killed and maimed us; he is not so innocent as you'd make him out to be.

That does not mean there wasn't loss at all. Processor or not, pain is still pain, polizia.

[He should know better than to be this open around an ex-Con, but he's getting this off his chest...after so long.]

The creator of a gun is not a murderer. It is on the shoulders of the soldier.

[He'll defend Que to the end, Barricade ): ]

Pain is not an equal sum game; there may be loss in both cases, but losing a friend - however close they are - and losing part of yourself are different pains. Not that I could expect you to understand that.

[Pain is kind of his thing, after all. After dealing out and dealing with so much of it, he's learned the differences well enough.]

Tell that to the human scientists that build bombs; some of them certainly don't feel that way.

[He can't feel sympathy for the mech that was responsible for blowing off his legs, unfortunately.]

[One point for Barricade. He really couldn't compare a symbiotic relationship with a close friendship, and thus, he backs down a bit. Those eyes are still narrowed, though.]

Very well, I will not play this contest with you over pain. We have both suffered losses.

[Even if he wanted to scream because of it.]

Que would never choose to make those unless it was necessary. He is not a killer at spark.

[His voice hitches.]

He did not deserve it...

[Barricade lets the subject drop, gladly. While he's glad to have not gotten pity over his loss, for once... Talking about it still hurt too much. This far was far enough.]

Yes, well. He certainly got back at me from beyond the grave, intentions or no...

[His shoulders slump slightly after his muttered comment. Que probably hadn't deserved it, at least from the Autobot's perspective.]

Did you deserve it, then? Or Bumblebee? Or Ratchet?

[Mutually glad for that. It was a very sensitive subject.]

...I do not understand.

[Yes, he heard that part. Care to share?]

...

[But then he turns his head.]

You cannot ask me such a question where I would be so biased.

Unless there's someone else capable of building bombs that could blow off my legs...

[Not his best moment, admittedly. Actually one of his worst, not that anyone here knows that. He's almost grateful for that.]

Because you would be here telling me that none of them deserved it, no matter which one was shot. Because they matter to you.

[Mirage doesn't say anything, but his eyes widen. He'd be lying if he didn't think it was karma...but...still, shocking that somehow the old bot led to the police car's downfall.]

...

[That head bows down again, wings folded in the same direction.]

Si. We are biased.

[Barricade knows he should be dead right now, with what happened. The only reason he isn't is because of friends that could endure his vitriol.]

I found it rather ironic, myself.

[He exvents slowly, after a moment, own wings flicking down.]

I think. A lot of folks - the living and the dead - are owed a lot of apologies.

[Mirage's helm tilts up, looking into Barricade's four eyes. No matter how you spun it, the police car had a point.]

...This is true.

[And with that...he held a hand out for him.]

We...have to start somewhere.

[Barricade's plating flares backwards in surprise at the offered hand, and he hesitates a moment. Eventually he clasps Mirage's hand, careful with his claws.]

I suppose we do.

[You have no idea how hard this is for him, Barricade. He's basically shaking hands with his pseudo-grandfather's killer.]

So...we will work together.

[He may not have the same feelings towards Mirage - the Ferrari hadn't killed anyone he knew - but he hadn't vowed to not work with his Autobots for a reason. Barricade is more than a little cautious about this whole thing.]

I guess we will, at that. I watch your back, you watch mine.

[And maybe they can avoid stabbing those spots on each other while they're at it.]

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And Ignite Your Bones

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