☼ Wing ☼ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
winged_knight) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
re_alignment_logs2013-04-26 07:14 pm
winged_knight) wrote in re_alignment_logs2013-04-26 07:14 pm
Entry tags:
[Open] Six o'clock in the morning
WHO: Wing, Drift as he wakes, open after that!
WHERE: Medibay at Solus's temple
WHEN: Roughly now. Following this and this.
WHAT: Wing, long overdue from an investigative outing in the wastelands, recovers in Medibay after being rescued.
WARNINGS: None yet.
He'd thought it a service, investigating the ghosts of refugees past, hoping it'd help protect Haven's current residents better. What Wing hadn't considered was his own protection. Ghosts can't harm you right? The one he and Drift had encountered hadn't even known they were there.
The animated bodies of those mechs though, corrupted by tainted energon and emitting an aura of oppressive weakness, were an entirely different story. It was the last thing the jet expected, and though he vaguely remembered taking down two of them, in the end, to his horror, he'd been overwhelmed. Only ingenuity and a stubborn determination born from remembering how much he had to live for had prevented his untimely end.
Wing remembers laying there, alone in that corrupted place but determined not to fade out He's not even sure how much time passed before Drift's group found him. He was barely lucid for the trip back and slipped into a blissful stasis while Ambulon did his work.
His wounds, ugly and vile looking, the plating and internals discolored by the tainted weapons and hands that dealt the damage, were slow to heal. Even once stripped of the tainted armor, he remained fevered, his auto repair running hard to fix the remaining damage that seemed to resist it. A fuel transfusion tenaciously applied by Ambulon seemed to do the trick, purging the last of that taint.
Several days later he finally wakes, his wounds repaired and feeling refreshed. Weak, but strangely giddy from the fresh fuel that flows in his lines. It's making him anxious to be out and doing things, catching up on all he's missed in the weeks he's been gone. Ambulon's insisted on at least one day of observation however, or until the weakness finally passes, so he's stuck in medibay for the time being.
At least he's allowed visitors?
WHERE: Medibay at Solus's temple
WHEN: Roughly now. Following this and this.
WHAT: Wing, long overdue from an investigative outing in the wastelands, recovers in Medibay after being rescued.
WARNINGS: None yet.
He'd thought it a service, investigating the ghosts of refugees past, hoping it'd help protect Haven's current residents better. What Wing hadn't considered was his own protection. Ghosts can't harm you right? The one he and Drift had encountered hadn't even known they were there.
The animated bodies of those mechs though, corrupted by tainted energon and emitting an aura of oppressive weakness, were an entirely different story. It was the last thing the jet expected, and though he vaguely remembered taking down two of them, in the end, to his horror, he'd been overwhelmed. Only ingenuity and a stubborn determination born from remembering how much he had to live for had prevented his untimely end.
Wing remembers laying there, alone in that corrupted place but determined not to fade out He's not even sure how much time passed before Drift's group found him. He was barely lucid for the trip back and slipped into a blissful stasis while Ambulon did his work.
His wounds, ugly and vile looking, the plating and internals discolored by the tainted weapons and hands that dealt the damage, were slow to heal. Even once stripped of the tainted armor, he remained fevered, his auto repair running hard to fix the remaining damage that seemed to resist it. A fuel transfusion tenaciously applied by Ambulon seemed to do the trick, purging the last of that taint.
Several days later he finally wakes, his wounds repaired and feeling refreshed. Weak, but strangely giddy from the fresh fuel that flows in his lines. It's making him anxious to be out and doing things, catching up on all he's missed in the weeks he's been gone. Ambulon's insisted on at least one day of observation however, or until the weakness finally passes, so he's stuck in medibay for the time being.
At least he's allowed visitors?
no subject
Still, Wing shivers a little under those hands, the sensation more than just pleasant. It helps burn away the last of the chill from the cave, and certainly gives him reason to want to recover faster.
A gentle nod, resigned. "I just want answers. I wish they'd trust us with more." Is this the place where Wing's trust in the First Forged ends and his faith must begin? And should he feel remiss that that faith is often questioned? No, he's learned to always question, to seek even the harder truths, because here, he's beginning to feel that he can take nothing for granted.
Wing does cling then, when Drift pulls him in tighter, not fearfully but with a fierce and stubborn type of hold, as if silently daring Unicron himself to break it. He chirrs softly, spark welling within his chassis. "Would you stay with me? I mean, share the room? I. Know there's Vandal and that well, Perceptor's here now too, but..." Wing smiles, hoping that he's not asking too much, "I like it when you're the first thing I see in the morning. I wish it were every morning."
necrotaggggggggg
"I'm sure they think they have good reasons. Until we know what those are, we won't ever learn the truth."
And Drift knows that weaseling good information and being diplomatic and tactful are...totally not in his skillset.
He gives up the oil rubbing, as Wing hugs him, feeling the jet's need, and his own want to be strong for him, like a throb in his throat. "I-I can stay here tonight. If you want." Or, you know, forever.
:D /gathers it up and breathes life into it
"They're probably protecting us from...other things. Things maybe it's not safe for us to know." His helm shifts with a small shake of the head. "That's no comfort."
Those efforts are likely more in Wing's purview, and he's starting to think he needs to be more demanding about answers. As long as he can brave what they are, since he gets the feeling this place will continue to be one of the greatest challenges he's ever faced.
He smiles then. There's so much about Drift that is endearing but this is one of his favorites. "I would love that too," he gives a playful nudge with his nasal guard, trying to lighten the mood a little. "But I meant my room at Vector's. Would you. Move in? Live with me? Or it could be the other way around, if you want. If you like yours better." He ducks his eyes a little then, feeling oddly shy all of a sudden.
no subject
A smile, almost a reflex, at the friendly bump of the nasal against his. And then the words sink in. "O-oh. OH. Oh, right. That. I...I knew that."
No he didn't. And he's a terrible liar. Double tap of fail.
"Y-yes. I'd like that." A lot. A whole lot. His hands tremble against Wing's frame at the thought of being able to keep the jet in his arms every night.
no subject
Wing spares a moment to enjoy that smile and the fact that it's reflex now, compared to before when Drift's smiles were near non-existent. He loves it so much in fact that he tries to steal it right off Drift's face with a quick kiss.
If he wasn't already hugging Drift that cute little stammer would sure provoke it. That's certainly not failing in Wing's book, not in the least. He beams at Drift's acceptance, not that he doubted it...too much. He curls his hands into his love's trembling ones, voice soft and sincere. "I meant it when I said I never wanted to be separated from you."