[Closed]

[winged_knight]

WHO: Drift and Wing
WHERE: Near the Badlands (the new/nearer patch?)
WHEN: A short time after this, during January's plot event.
WHAT: Wing returns from his 'walkabout' only to discover Drift is missing. Also, Badlands are Bad. :c
WARNINGS: None yet.



After reading the messages on the Link, Wing had sped home hoping this was some fluke, a mistake, and that Drift was just otherwise occupied. But Drift had said he'd be here when Wing got back; he'd made an appointment with Ambulon, yet he wasn't here in Haven for either of them. His concern had only grown as he'd searched all the places he could think of, only to turn up empty. Which left him with two thoughts...Tarn or the Badlands.

The jet crouches now on the highest point of Vector's tower, one hand clinging to the spire's needle while the magna clamps in each foot keep him steady on his perch. He leans out, flight surfaces shifting fretfully while he scans the surrounding territory, as if he'd see some hint or clue if only he looked hard enough. There's something about the echo of Drift's name in his own voice as it rings out over the crystal bridges and through the gorge itself... It seems like a fruitless endeavor, simply calling his name, but something in it fortifies Wing's hope and determination. His spark pulses anxiously, even moreso as he tries to reach through the old link to his former Great Sword, his last gambit, hoping desperately for some notion of Drift's whereabouts. Please, Drift, where are you..?

Wing puts everything he has into it. At first, nothing. Then the sinking notion that the sword isn't anywhere nearby, not in Haven at least. He almost falters, discouraged, but no, Drift would never give up so easily. It was one of the qualities Wing honestly loved about the mech. So he tries again, one last push... that gets rewarded. Something...off in the distance. Roughly towards the Badlands.

It's all the jet needs, and though he's only been back to Haven a matter of hours, he's gone again, striking out towards one pinpoint of light against a blanket of darkness.

Comments

[sword_redemption]

He doesn't remember much: just blackness. He remembers a storm of emotions, as he left Rung's office, knowing he had to at least talk to Wing. He remembers climbing the ramp to his room, intent on steeling himself, and finding the message from Wing, leafing through the journal, reading the actual letter to him over and over, until he worried he might wear the text out.

And then...nothing. Just black blankness, a sort of muffled silence, until now.

It feels like waking up, clawing his way through dark murky water. He swears he hears something, Wing's voice, calling his name. He tries to speak, but his voice is a dry, depowered croak.

[winged_knight]

Wing is probably being a little reckless. He's not exactly in top form--travel worn and battle bruised--but when the Badlands are involved, mere seconds might count.

Perhaps it's uncalled for, perhaps Drift is out here of his own volition again and Wing will look the fool. But let him look the fool, pride has no sway now: he'd rather that than lose Drift forever over something truly foolish.

So Wing is red-lining it towards the source of that sensation, that familiarity, like a beckon pulling his spark forward and carrying the rest of him with it. There are the stirrings of worry for what will happen when he arrives; all that he'd left Drift with before he'd fled Haven, but it can't muster against the driving fear that is losing Drift to the Badlands. Wing wants to have plenty of tomorrows with Drift but that meant first securing today.

[sword_redemption]

Drift groans, rolling to one side. The world's still swimming into focus around him.

But it's not his quarters at Vector's that's slowly resolving around him. Everything seems to hurt right now and he moves slowly, his hand reaching, almost a reflex, for his Great Sword.

Here. He's out here, when he'd promised Wing he'd be around when Wing got back. He checks his comm, frantic, but he's too far out, and nothing but static answers him.

[winged_knight]

It feels like he's getting closer. He ignores his instrumentation, following this other, more basic navigation, like a shining thread showing him the way. Was it growing stronger, brighter?

He just follows, trusting his new found instincts once again to not get him lost. It also seems like his course is not quite the same as past ones to the Badlands... Maybe he's imagining it. Maybe the area is bigger than he imagined. Or maybe they've moved...

There's a dismaying thought.

Wing pushes harder, his flight panels swept close to his frame as he travels several times the speed of sound, chewing through distance at a break neck pace. It'll be quite the u-turn he'll have to pull once he reaches his destination, and the scream of his engines will no doubt announce it. He just hopes he's not too late.

*poke* do AC!! ((feel free to make dramatic entrance killing a beastie if you want))

[sword_redemption]

Drift pushes up onto one arm, trying to struggle to his feet. His hand trembles under the weight, his systems signalling he's woefully underfueled. That must be why he'd stopped--collapsing from hunger.

Home. He had to get home. Or back to Vector's at any rate, though he's not sure he considers that 'home'. He blinks, trying to clear his vision, just as he caught sight of something seeming to lumber toward him from the darkness.

Eep yes, thank you! :o ((Oooooh dramatic entrances, yes good))

[winged_knight]

It's definitely getting stronger now, he thinks. Not soon after Wing registers something up ahead, his HUD dancing around a bulk of white with a flash of red. But that's not all: Drift is not alone and whatever they are they do not look friendly.

The jet slingshots past, the rough note to his engines audible as he decelerates, tipping a wing in a fiercely tight turn. He shrugs off the g-forces and cloverleafs around, choosing a new intercept vector with the hostile. This one looked mildly insectoid, though thankfully not of the winged variety.

Wing makes to power past the creature on a near collision course--and in effect that's exactly what he does--except that he does so weapon first, transforming in the last moment. He feels the weapon cleave deeply before he's carried past the creature, flight surfaces flaring like airbrakes, grav thrusters helping to arrest his progress several meters away.

[sword_redemption]

He catches a high whine of engines and a flash of light, just as one of the creatures snaps into focus. "Wing!" he cries out, a pointless sort of warning, as Wing is heading straight form them, blade drawn.

He throws one of his blades at another, which leapt up, trying to land on Wing's back as he sails past. It's pure reflex, the blade flying true.

[winged_knight]

Wing pivots and lunges at his first target, making certain that whatever's left of it won't be a bother. A nod at Drift then, his mouth twitching into a brief smile at the sight of a familiar sword splitting the carapace of the second creature. "Nice."

One of it's companions rears up, mandibles spread, and a stream of something unfriendly shoots from its mouth. Wing dodges one stream, catching a second with his blade as he back pedals towards Drift. The strange goop seems to plop harmlessly on the ground...until it starts to slowly corrode the surface.

He spares a moment to glance back and truly take in Drift's state, trying to assess the situation. "Are you okay...?" Likely not but Wing himself is definitely a bit of a fine mess: his plating dull, abraded, and some places the paint is entirely gone; plus an old would or two, obviously patched.

[sword_redemption]

Drift's already drawing his second sword, even as he clambers to his feet. It's a bit rough to go from passed-out to combat in under five kliks, but he's had harder wake ups. And seeing Wing again--it doesn't matter that he looks a bit worse for wear: he's here.

He lunges at another creature, separating its head from its body in one easy slice, the head thudding to the ground at his feet. He manages a grin. "I'm better than he is, at any rate."

[winged_knight]

That flicker of a smile solidifies into something with full bodied brightness. Drift: not only up and moving, but pleased to see him if he's not mistaken.

This was easy: simple and true. Two warriors sharing the path and cleansing the corruption from this land. He'd almost forgotten how well they both fit together when they simply stopped thinking about it. Wing moves with a fluid grace, turning to recover Drift's shortblade from the corpse and tossing it home in one smooth motion, ending between the swordmech's flank and another of the creatures.

"That's what they get for spitting goop at us." Wing darts in low as the thing rears up, exposing its weaker underbelly, his upward cleave splitting the length of it in twain. "Down right rude if you ask me!"

[sword_redemption]

He catches the blade, easily, in his off hand, whirling to drive it into another of the creatures. Well, if you have to have an Awkward Reunion with your lover, this was a good way to get it off to an interesting start?

"Oh, I don't know. I think it's polite of them to make sure I get some exercise." It's not his best line, but, well he just woke up.

[winged_knight]

It's better than talking, at least for now, which is the thing that got them into this mess of Awkward in the first place. So it's probably just as well that all of words Wing had so carefully considered and prepared in the days previous have flown from his cortex like so many startled birds. And it was looking like he might need new ones soon, judging by what remained visible of their adversaries.

Wing kicks out, toppling the creature he'd sliced open a moment ago, just to be certain. "Can't have you napping in their territory I suppose. It'd make them look bad!"

[sword_redemption]

It feels good to do this: because this? This, Drift can do. He's been fighting all his life, even before the war, really. And he finds fighting alongside, around, Wing to be almost natural, almost knowing instinctively when to dart ahead, where Wing will move next.

"Nice of them to provide a wake up call." He's not quite sure, still, how he ended up out here.

He plunges his blade under one of the creature's mandibles, withdrawing it slowly, looking around for the next opponent, and finding none.

[winged_knight]

It's amazing how danger, the threat to one's life, boils things down to the simplest, most basic elements. Wing takes it as a good sign, that they can be this way--a team--silent compliments, one to the other.

"A little excessive though, as wake-up calls go." There are better ways, at any rate.

He pivots, side to side as he works his way backwards, scanning for more combatants until he finds himself at Drift's back. "Well I suppose that's that." Now would be a good time to find those words...

[sword_redemption]

Better ways to wake up, yes. But not with them around. No thanks.

"Well, you know. Not everyone can be as civilized as they were in your pretty little City, Wing." He flashes a wink at Wing as he stows his swords.

He kicks one head, but nope, it stays down. And now it's just him. And Wing.

And the smile starts to waver.

"I. Uh. I missed you."

[winged_knight]

Not to be speciesist, but who wants to wake up next to something with that many legs? Next time? No bugs. (More hugs)

But oh. That wink makes him a little weak and he fumbles through stowing his own swords, spark giving a sudden flutter as he turns and grins.

"At the very least I could do without the drool." Ah. Now there's a classy conversation topic.

And then the uncomfortable side of awkward starts to yawn in front of them and Wing wants to make a desperate grab for that light-hearted cheekiness again. But there's nothing clever on his tongue now, just a raw sort of earnestness.

"I thought of you. Every day. _{Every moment, seemed like...}" Is that creepy?

[sword_redemption]

Drift's just going to give a subtle, slightly worried look at where he'd been laying. Whew. Okay. No drool.

Never mind. All is good.

"I...uh. I wish I could say the same?" But honestly he can't remember much of the last few days.

Drift: ruining romance always.

God I'm sorry if I turn this even further into a bad anime/sitcom. XD

[winged_knight]

As long as said drool is not corrosive, it's all well and good. Complementary, in some cases even.

"Aha." A nervous laugh that's more like air awkwardly trying to escape his systems than good humor. He worries his hands in front of him, "Been, uh, busy I suppose?"

Rigorous activity Ambulon had said right?

As long as we stay away from Magical Girl stuff....

[sword_redemption]

"....I don't know. I don't remember. Like. Anything." He shakes his head. Well, he's back to his usual level of incoherence.

He wanders over to the thing they'd killed, poking its face with one foot. He's not macabre, just trying to change the subject. And there really isn't much else out here.

If it absolutely comes to that I'll wear the skirt. Then you can ask me where I hide my wand.

[winged_knight]

A twitch of concern crosses Wing's face. "Nothing? Not even, how you got here? Ambulon said he saw you a few days ago for treatment...and that you didn't show today for a recheck."

Wing's attention is drawn to the creatures, noting their design, something he's never seen before. "I wonder where they came from."

[sword_redemption]

"I remember waiting for you. In my quarters. And I remember looking, for a few days, for that thing that attacked Megatron. But...I don't remember leaving this time. I would have brought rations, supplies, if I'd planned to be out long."

He frowns, uncomfortable. He hates not knowing, this idea that he's broken, somehow.

[winged_knight]

The notion that Drift had been waiting for him is heartening, but then it feels a little bit selfish in light of the mech's current plight.

"How long do you think?" The only other cases of missing memories had been when mechs had died, but in each of those cases they had awoken in the temples.

"Drift, I..." Wing reaches out a hand, almost in offering, "I'm sorry. That I wasn't here."

[sword_redemption]

Drift doesn't mind: he wants Wing to know, especially after how they parted, that he wanted to make things better, that he waited and waited, checking his comm for messages about 10 times a day, every time he came into range from the badlands.

"I..." he pauses to check his chrono. "Two days." Two days? He's lucky the critters just showed up now.

He smiles, brushing his hand along the back of Wing's. "Don't worry about it. Please." He's tired of the past hurting everything.

[winged_knight]

"Two days..." Not exactly encouraging for multiple reasons. "Seems strange to encounter creatures so close to Haven...?" When last time, with Ashitaka, it took them twice that to meet resistance.

The smile on Drift's face is heartening too. In truth, Wing would give anything to see it there every single day. He returns it with one of his own, almost shyly, all to aware of what he left in Drift's hands. His fingers find the spaces between Drift's, "I thought I left looking for answers. But finally I realized...they were right here all along."

[sword_redemption]

"Maybe they smelled me or something. I don't think I'm two days out." You know, like blood in the water for sharks on Earth.

Drift shrugs. "Sometimes you just need a change to shake things up so you can see what's under all the...gunk." Okay, it's a terrible analogy, but he's going to stick with it.