☼ 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_logs2013-05-21 09:05 pm
winged_knight) wrote in re_alignment_logs2013-05-21 09:05 pm
Entry tags:
[Closed] Share and share alike
WHO: Perceptor, Wing and Drift
WHERE: Vector's tower, Wing and Drift's room
WHEN: Shortly following this.
WHAT: Wing doesn't want Perceptor excluded from Drift's life. Neither does Drift or Perceptor! Now they figure out how it all works.
WARNINGS:All the shippy things you can imagine? Probably angst, schmoop and stuff in-between.
Wing cruised the air currents in pace with Perceptor, low to the ground but at a companionable distance. Not certain whether the scientist had seen this part of the Haven yet or not, he called out points of interest along the way via comm link. The white crystal bridges and cables of the temple environs shone in the sun as they entered the rock framed gorge that is Vector Prim's primary domain. Once inside, Wing pointed out as much as he could on the way to lift, an elevator with nothing but a simple railing that ascends the hollow interior of the tower.
Playing tour guide might seem odd given the measure of seriousness in what's ahead, but keeping things light and companionable is what Wing prefers. For himself and Perceptor. He wants, desperately to make this work and be a benefit to everyone.
Wing's quarters, now housing Drift as well, are near the top of the tower, high enough that they crest the edge of the gorge and can be touched by the rising sun. His balcony doors, as always, are open to the fresh air, the long tail of a red pennant marking his landing point flapping idly in a small breeze. He's cleared out most of the books, and even a fair amount of the colored glass collection he'd assembled, keeping on the best pieces and on the balcony where the sun would catch them. The berth seems more sized for a mech like Ultra Magnus, indeed most of the whole room does, which might be Wing's secret in getting ceilings so tall as well.
Wing enters, telling Perceptor to make himself at home, gesturing to the two chairs near the small table (thankfully, of more average size). He pulls the Great Sword from his back, stowing in a rack on the wall before claiming one of the chairs himself. That probably leaves Drift with the berth, but well, it's fitting?
WHERE: Vector's tower, Wing and Drift's room
WHEN: Shortly following this.
WHAT: Wing doesn't want Perceptor excluded from Drift's life. Neither does Drift or Perceptor! Now they figure out how it all works.
WARNINGS:
Wing cruised the air currents in pace with Perceptor, low to the ground but at a companionable distance. Not certain whether the scientist had seen this part of the Haven yet or not, he called out points of interest along the way via comm link. The white crystal bridges and cables of the temple environs shone in the sun as they entered the rock framed gorge that is Vector Prim's primary domain. Once inside, Wing pointed out as much as he could on the way to lift, an elevator with nothing but a simple railing that ascends the hollow interior of the tower.
Playing tour guide might seem odd given the measure of seriousness in what's ahead, but keeping things light and companionable is what Wing prefers. For himself and Perceptor. He wants, desperately to make this work and be a benefit to everyone.
Wing's quarters, now housing Drift as well, are near the top of the tower, high enough that they crest the edge of the gorge and can be touched by the rising sun. His balcony doors, as always, are open to the fresh air, the long tail of a red pennant marking his landing point flapping idly in a small breeze. He's cleared out most of the books, and even a fair amount of the colored glass collection he'd assembled, keeping on the best pieces and on the balcony where the sun would catch them. The berth seems more sized for a mech like Ultra Magnus, indeed most of the whole room does, which might be Wing's secret in getting ceilings so tall as well.
Wing enters, telling Perceptor to make himself at home, gesturing to the two chairs near the small table (thankfully, of more average size). He pulls the Great Sword from his back, stowing in a rack on the wall before claiming one of the chairs himself. That probably leaves Drift with the berth, but well, it's fitting?
no subject
Lalallala that's Drift totally ignoring all the times he's emoflounced out to the badlands on his own. Those...don't count. Because, uh, because he didn't die. So there.
All he knows is that they're both just so much better at this than he was: making arrangements, talking about emotions, dealing with...stuff.
Drift was no good with stuff. Unless it needed to be stabbed.
He tries to come up with something witty, or romantic, or just not utterly stupid to say, as Perceptor approached, but Perceptor's quick thinking spared all of them what would have been an abject failure, and all he could do was make a muffled note of surprise at the mouthplates pressing against his.
no subject
Wing is pretty sure his browridge couldn't disappear further under his helm at this next shift in Perceptor's demeanor. He's not sure what he was expecting--more shyly reserved advances?--but it's not this hunter on the move. If he could utter a syllable, it'd be the first part of 'Oh My' but he's so stunned and...taken by change all that comes out is a breathy vent.
He hovers for a moment, uncertain. Wing finds himself torn between, not jealousy--he feels no malice towards Perceptor--but envy for the moment, the act--because who wouldn't be, and a certain stirring arousal at the idea of watching this happen.
And as much as he...might not be opposed to that he's suddenly realizing, the more proper part of him says their reunion should be about them, without having to consider the social dynamic of him as an added variable.
Wing hasn't resumed his seat yet, but he hasn't managed to leave the room yet either. "I, ah, should let you celebrate on your own. I think. I can come back around the evening meal." It's mid-morning now, that should be enough time, right?
no subject
There's also, perhaps, just a little part of him that is still angry at having been left behind when Drift had left the Wreckers. A tiny kernel of sullen fury that stokes the hunter from within. Perceptor's fingertips curl tightly against Drift's hip, holding him tight as he nips at the lip component he's sucked between his own.
Just one kiss. Yes. Just one kiss, he reminds himself as he cups the back of Drift's helm in one tense hand.
no subject
And Drift's all too aware of how he left the Wreckers, how he'd left Perceptor, and the distance it had caused between them. He'd meant it to protect Perceptor, to keep him safe from, well, Drift and all his clumsiness.
Which he's evincing here, the way one hand clutches at the sniper's shoulder, engine giving a soft rev.
no subject
The more he considers, the more staying doesn't seem right. Though he's starting to think coming back at the evening meal is a good idea just to make sure they refuel. They might need it. At least that's what he's thinking as he shifts quietly towards the door, not wanting to disturb them. He'll just let himself out, quietly, grab a drink at the bar and prepare for a long afternoon of Law Committee business.
no subject
blueyonder beyond Haven in that other post. Slash fourth wall.Perceptor nips at Drift's lip again, pulling him more deeply into the kiss for a moment as he grinds himself against Drift. He wants... more. Everything. But something's off.
It's the faint glimpse of white edging out of his field of vision to one side that reminds him. Wing. Oh yes. Wing. This is... this is Wing's room. And Drift's, too, but Wing's.
"Don't," he manages to growl softly, lifting his hand from Drift's hip to wave vaguely in Wing's direction. He can't quite seem to drag himself away from Drift, completely, his lip components brushing against Drift's as he adds in a harsh murmur, "Wasn't going to..."
Perceptor leans in to rub his cheek against Drift's cheek for a moment as he shudders, trying to reign himself in.
"Wasn't going to evict you. Your room." Because, as tempting as it would be to pin Drift to the wall, it would be rude, and Perceptor isn't quite gone enough to be that rude.
Tempting as it is.
"I'll go." His field lashing against Drift's says that leaving is the last thing he wants to do. "We can... later."
Maybe after Perceptor has picked out his own room. It would only be a door or two away, but it would be his as opposed to Wing's.
no subject
He blinks, aware of something going on around him.
"Wait. What? Wh-why does anyone have to leave? Isn't that like...the opposite of sharing?"
Don't confuse Drift. It's sort of like kicking a puppy.
no subject
"No it's fine. You don't have your own room yet and well. If I was him--" he flashes Drift a smile, "--I'd be thinking about you all day anyway..." His voice lowers a little and he shrugs, softly. "It'd be cruel, to give you this and then...make you wait." That's how he would feel, if it was him in either of their places.
At Drift's protest though, he can't really refute the logic. Except... "I just thought..." his hands work out in front of him in some symbolic way that's best not thought on too much, "you two, the first night here...shouldn't it just be you?"
Wing still believes that but he doesn't sound nearly as certain as he did before. But he's also unsure if he'd be wanted in this so he hovers halfway to the door, indecisive.
sorry for the delay!
"Greedy," Perceptor teases quietly, nipping at Drift's lip again. The look he flicks at Wing, though, and that beckoning finger, urging Wing to take up the empty spot behind Drift, is quite serious. And quite unmistakable.
What are you waiting for? You heard what he said.
And then he slides that hand back into place on Drift's hip, and dives in for another long, deep kiss.
actually no my turn and also we're pushing the rating of the game
That's a metaphor that's probably been shoved in a blender, but, yeah, nervous.
And also the last time Wing left...he nearly died. So leaving his sight, not a good thing. "It's...it's up to you?" And he's grateful for the kiss so he doesn't have to say anything else probably dumb.
no subject
And Drift shines no matter what he thinks. If Perceptor and Wing have to team up to help him see that? Well. Then team up they will.
The way Perceptor beckons is certainly unmistakable and after a moment's more hesitation--looking to Drift for a similar invitation--his uncertainty resolves itself into a smile, warm but this time with a hint of sultry heat. Wing moves to cover the cool empty space at Drift's back, hip skirting swaying as he walks.
He flicks Perceptor a look similar to the one he received earlier, as if engaging an accomplice. "Someday Drift, you'll learn to ask for things with more insistence."