re_alignment_logs | I felt like destroying something beautiful

Entry tags:

I felt like destroying something beautiful

Who: Drift and open
What: Catharsis
When Nowish
Where Outside Vector's place
Warnings Damage to harmless innocent geology and if you look slantwise, suicidal tendencies maybe?

It's morning--or what passes for it here. And there's a sharp, ringing sound, of metal on stone, and then another. They keep coming, sometimes a quick flurry, sometimes one, or two at a time, like the blows are calculated.

Drift's standing in a rough circle, blades drawn, in a loose version of an old Decepticon training ring. On the main vectors of the circle, at the perimeter stand rough pillars of stone: crystal and schist, nodules of manganese and pyrite.

Fool's gold. It's fitting.

There are sparks, as the metal of Drift's blades strike flint in the sedimentary stones, or larger sparks, as he slices into the strange quartz of this place. His style isn't like Wing's--Wing's bladework is elegant, almost dancer-like: Drift's is sharp and explosive, honed less on a pretty, underground practice floor than in the thick of combat.

He's fighting something here. Not enemies, but himself.

After a moment, he throws the two short blades aside, their blades ringing on the stone, and draws the Great Sword. There's a blaze of light, like sunlight or flame, from the golden gem in its hilt, and bright energy skitters down the blade, filling the glyphs like liquid light, as he moves to attack one of the mindless chunks of stone again, his face set and resolute.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He's just...tired. And frustrated. Because this isn't how he wanted this to go. He hated that he was, once again, the problem, hated how quickly she and Wing had fallen to a discussion of his flaws and errors, how quickly Wing had started talking about how he'd doubted if he was right for Drift.

"You did nothing wrong, Vandal. It's me. I'm the problem."

"You're not-" She wants to get up, but the way her legs are folded, it's no easy task. She settles for leaning forward.

"Everyone has problems, but it's not like... like you're bad. No better or worse than any of us. We're all just trying to find our way and do what we have to. Come back down here, please." Her hand gropes uselessly at his ankle.

"It's okay to feel frustrated and upset, but you're not a problem. Come on. I don't lie about stuff like this."

"Vandal. I heard you talking." What else can he say? He heard how they both really felt about him, some mix of pity and doubt. He didn't want to be that, but he was, it seems.

"If a hammer falls and lands on your foot, the hammer wasn't bad, but you're still hurt by it." He probably can't pull off Wing's little riddles but it's as clear as he can describe it. Because his intentions had been good--or so he'd thought. He certainly hadn't intended to hurt Perceptor.

"And?" It's a big case of half empty half full. Vandal is the last person to be optimistic, but she has to try.

"Well, is that any reason to hate a hammer, then? To not want the hammer t- well. You get what I'm saying. We all make mistakes. I've said things I didn't mean, but I'm sorry. And I know you'll forgive me." She closes her eyes.

"Drift? I can't speak for anyone else, but you're not getting rid of me. And I'll kiss you one day if I can help it. I'll keep following you, so you can stop trying to convince me you're not a good guy."

Drift rises. He's said all he can say. He's told her he loves her and it's not enough. It would never be enough. He would never be enough.

"Let me take you back. Or maybe Wing's inside." She talks about him behind his back but doesn't choose to talk about the others to him? No. He's given them enough gossip fodder. One five-microklik kiss had somehow made him into something awful. Fine. He would be awful. But he would be alone.

Actually it's plenty enough, he's just a vague, dodgy fucker who likes to assume the sun and the stars for the sake of feeling bad about it when there's three perfectly good people who are quite ready to accept him.

"Damn it, Drift!" She's never actually seriously shouted at him before. Not like that.

"Would you just shut up and listen to me for five minutes?! Sit down!" She came here to be with him and she's incredibly stubborn.

He has half a mind to just leave. But he's never been a coward, at least when it came to facing someone's anger. The tone of her voice snaps something in him, and after a moment, he drops to the ground, almost sheepish, embarrassed that he'd upset her so much.

"_{I'm listening}." There's no challenge in the voice, just what he hopes is acknowledgment. He's doing what she wants, because this is important to her. And he'll face whatever she says.

Stumbling a little, relieved that she's got his attention, she passes a hand down his helm, leaning up using his chest piece to leverage herself so she can press a very small, chaste kiss against his mouth. Leaning back again, her voice takes on a much softer tone, even more so than the usual gruff quality of her voice. Not demeaning, more timid than anything else.

"I love you so much, Drift. I'm sorry, it's never been my intent to hurt you, or let anyone else do that." She lets go, wilting to the ground again as her legs wobble.

"If you want to be alone, I can go. I know I'm pushing you. I just get worried about what you think and feel, since you're so guarded. That's not a bad thing, though. I should know better than to press like that. I'm asking a lot of really selfish things. I can't speak for anyone else... but. I'd like you to be able to have some peace of mind. No matter the outcome on my end." Her hands wring nervously.

"Could you... tell me how could I give that to you? I mean... at least from me, personally."

He caught her as she stumbled, or at least tried to, his blue optics blinking in surprise at the kiss planted on his mouth plates. "No, you don't have to go. Please. I just don't know how to make this right. With you. Or anyone."

That earns a smile from her.

"All you have to do is accept that you're worthy of love." That was it at it's most basic, though she knows it's not an easy task. She's not exactly easy on herself either.

"Everything else will come in time. Just try to be open in the meantime. Focus on the good. I know you've been through a lot, it's been hard for you. I couldn't begin to know what you're feeling, but I'd like to be there to help you through it."

There's a soft chuckle, a bit of a teasing smile that's very token to her.

"And do you have any idea how long I've been waiting to do that?" To kiss him.

"Is that all?" He laughs, because it's the not-really-very-funny kind of joke.

"Vandal, I've told you everything I can." Because he wouldn't let her make a mistake, go into this unknowing.

He smiles, an echo to her smile. "I'm sorry to make you wait so long."

"Kind of a blanket-statement, I know but eh. I like to keep it simple. Over-thinking is a killer."

She pulls her knees up to her chest, shaking her head.

"I know. I'm not asking you to tell me anything more. Just that I want to be there for you. I know I haven't always been."

She waves a hand.

"Worth the wait. I'd be jumping for joy but you know..." A motion down to her legs. Because a joke at er own expense is usually the go-to place.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know, Vandal. As best I can."

Which he is the first to admit isn't much. "Vandal. I just want you happy."

"You'd probably heal faster if you actually rested." He poked her, he hoped playfully. It's advice he'd ignored dozens of times, but it felt like the responsible thing to say.

"I know you will," She smiles gently.

"And I want you happy. I think we can work with that. If I could make you happy, you know... In. Ways?" She smiles awkwardly, kicking herself mentally. Oh yeah. Totally great at the wooing.

She squeaks, batting at his hand with a grin.

"Sorry, this was more important."

"Ways?" No, he does not know. Another mech, and this might be some coy flirty thing. But this is Drift. And he's clueless.

"Vandal. Me being an idiot is not important. It's not even that rare." Unfortunately.

"You know... ah. I mean. Like. I'm." Vague gesture. Wooooooo yeah.

"I'm great at. Hugs?" Smooth.

"Hugging. Definitely in my skillset. And. I'm good with my hands. I- I mean like. You know if you're hurt or. Want a backrub. I know how you people work and-"

Did she just say you people? She wants to die right there. Yes. Be accidentally racist to someone you want to date.

"I mean you. I know how you. What you. Are. Into. I mean not into into, but what you like? That th-"

She just covers her face with her hands.

"No you're plenty important." And she should just stop talking oh god. She's so bad at this.

"You are pretty good at hugs." He will admit this freely. He'd needed one after...Gasket.

"...what am I into?" Now he's really confused, if he's asking her what he's into.

She looks upset. He shoots her a worried look, tilting his head. "Everything all right?"

Well she has that going for her.

"Yeah no everything's fine I'm just uh." Struggling. And attempting to be, in some way, remotely attractive. Missing an eye and half crumpled on the ground, she's probably struck out in any sexy department.

"Look um, do you wanna go and like. Sit somewhere and just chill out for a while? Or were you really set on giving these rocks the what-for?"

"Are you sure? You sound weird." Weirder even than the broadcast she'd made the other day.

He kind of thought they were sitting and chilling out, but what does he know? "Where do you want to go?" He looks back at the rocks, almost embarrassed. "I was just, uh, practicing."

"U-uhm. I'm fine." Just. Trying and failing to be supportive and/or impress him in some way.

"Uh. Anywhere, I guess." She'd rather not sit on the ground, at least. She shakes her head.

"I'm only teasing. You looked good." Pause, "I mean your stance. You. You're real good with a sword."

Screaming internally.

"A blade. With a blade. You're." Sigh.

"Yep. Could you help me up?" She doesn't be allowed to say words.

He tilts his head, but he won't question her. She knows better, right? It doesn't seem worth making a big deal.

"We could," he pauses to consider. The medibay doesn't seem like the right option. "We could go to the lake? Or, I mean, I guess my room, if you're cold or something?"

It's his turn to be embarrassed. "Uh, thanks. It's...practice. I've had a lot of practice."

He moves back, extending a hand.

"Your room," She says a bit too quickly. She's not really in the mood for scenic, as nice as it is. Something more comfortable.

"I can tell." He did stab Prism to death for her, which is more than she could have ever asked of him, so no doubt he's had millions of years probably.

She takes his hand, wobbling to her feet again.

"Thanks." A small smile.

He doesn't notice anything strange, figuring the speed is probably a sign that she's tired and cold, and doesn't want a long trip.

"You want me to, uh, carry you? Or I could drive or...?"

It's one of those times she's grateful he's mostly oblivious to her awkwardness.

"I- uh. Well. You could carry me? Because you know. I'm assuming... stairs." She bites her lip. Yeah that's totally it.

He can't see her awkwardness over his own cluelessness. He gives a laugh. "Oh, I just drive up the stairs. It's no probl--oh. Right." It would probably be pretty jarring for her. Drift you are terrible at patient care.

"I should probably carry you, you're right." He bends down, offering his arms awkwardly. "There's, uh, a way to do this?"

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sorry so late, car dealership took FOREVER orz

Sokay!

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