re_alignment_logs | the only problem with running from yourself is that you are always there

Current Mood: crushed
Current Location: beyond Haven

Entry tags:

the only problem with running from yourself is that you are always there

WHO: IDW Perceptor and whoever might be outside the bounds of Haven
WHERE: Beyond Haven's boundaries, into the wastes
WHEN: Right after Wing's display during the Games and Airshow
WHAT: Perceptor's running from himself.
WARNINGS: Wangst of the emo variety.

With all of Haven still at the Games, there's no one to see Perceptor as he flees back to his new room in Vector Prime's temple. No one to see as he gathers his few things, shoulders his rifle, tucks away the extra charge packs and clips for his pistols. No one to see as he hesitates over a datapad lying innocuously on his small desk.

It had been so beautiful. Wing had been so beautiful. So open and perfect, and Drift... Perceptor's vents hitch in a choked off sound as he remembers the look of awe Drift had worn while watching Wing. The way their bodies had entwined upon that platform, as if binary stars were completing their dance into a single nova.

As if they had been coming home to the place they had always been meant to be.

What place had Perceptor in such a perfect union?

Wing had tried to reassure him that his request would change nothing. That Perceptor would still be welcome. Wing... Wing is just that perfect, except for his inability to see, really see the truth about Perceptor.

He'd always been a stopgap. Perceptor can see that now. Just... just something for Drift to warm his broken heart by until it could be healed. Not by him, though, of course not. Nor does he resent Drift for that; how can he? Drift had given of himself so selflessly. Had risked himself to save the broken wretch Perceptor had been.

Kup had been right. Drift... Drift should have just left him there on that ship. Except that Drift never could leave one in such need. Drift is too pure for such a base sentiment. He always had been, ever since Wing.

And now, Drift has his Wing back, and there's no need for Perceptor. Perceptor can give Drift nothing that Wing cannot. Nothing but melancholy and bad memories of more violent times.

Perceptor should never have intruded. Wing is far too gracious, too giving, to have offered Perceptor...

Perceptor should have refused. He should have stepped back and stayed out of it. Stayed away and let Drift... let him be happy.

For a moment, Perceptor is angry. Angry at Wing for giving him hope, angry at Drift for loving Wing, angry at Wing for being everything that Perceptor can't be. That isn't fair, though. Wing had been there first, had been here first, is everything Drift really needs. Perceptor...

It isn't Wing's fault that Perceptor is just broken. Nor should Drift have to be saddled with such an anchor. Not when they are so obviously meant to be; the image of their embrace will be seared into his memories forever.

Perceptor glances over the empty, anonymous room one last time, the datapad in his hand, his few possessions already tucked away about his person. They don't need him here. Drift and Wing have each other, Prowl has his solution for Tarn, Ambulon has other, more qualified medics, and, once Pereptor leaves the datapad at Wing and Drift's room, Wing will have all the information he needs to grow the crystals he'd wanted for that memorial garden. There's even another Perceptor here, somewhere, to provide any other science anyone might need.

There's a curious sort of liberation, Perceptor muses as he leaves the datapad with the crystal formulation directions on the desk of Wing's room, to being so superfluous. Perhaps they might miss him briefly, but then the relief of not having to coordinate with him, share with him, should quickly wash that away. The relief of being free of the burden he is, free to concentrate on one another, as it should be.

Conjux Endura.

No ties, no fetters, his every skill duplicated by someone else... and Drift, safe with Wing. Even his work for Prowl is complete, though Perceptor hasn't seen it's fruition. He isn't needed here. Not in Haven, anyway.

One final stop by the deserted bar supplies Perceptor with as much energon as he can carry. Enough for a little while. Enough, hopefully, to make himself useful out beyond Haven. There has to be something valuable and worthwhile out there that he can bring back. That way, no one worthwhile need endanger themselves... and if he falls...

At least Drift will still be complete with his Conjux Endura.

Perceptor makes certain to exit Haven in the opposite direction of the caldera where the Games are winding down. After all, closing ceremonies will be over soon, and he needs to be well beyond Haven and out of sight before anyone spots him hiking resolutely away.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Except not everyone is attending the games.

In fact, Rocket really hadn't been spending much time in Haven at all as of late. He was annoyed with everything that had been going on--no, actually, disgusted with everything that was going on and didn't understand how any of them could just let some of the things that were going on fly.

Back home, the Guardians would a put a stop to anyone that was trying to harm others. Not put them on trial and sit around for weeks doing nothing.

So the raccoon had been out scouting and exploring, doing something--anything to keep his mind off things.

Perched on a ledge on the outskirts of Haven, the raccoon was absently taking apart one of his laser pistols to clean it, eyeing up the scope before wiping it out, when his ears twitched then perk. He froze for a moment, every part of him still sans the slight twitch of his nose as he processed the scent--

Cybertronian.

He relaxed, or so it seemed, resting his pistol pieces in his lap as his eyes narrowed and he peered down at the passing figure. Rocket had seen the other over the link but had never interacted.

Curiosity got the best of him though because it wasn't often anyone ventured out this far.

"You keep going the way you're going, mate, and you'll end up in some rough farkin' territory."

So lost in his own fugue is he, that Perceptor had not registered the organic creature until Rocket had spoken. He stops dead, hand flashing down to one pistol as he jerks his gaze upwards.

Not human. Curious. A weapon openly displayed, but not aimed at him. If the creature had meant to harm him, then he likely would not have spoken first. Perceptor relaxes a bit, though his hand doesn't stray from his pistol.

"I know."

He's scavenged out this far a few times, though not as far as he's intending to go now. Not that it matters. He is a Wrecker. Has been since long before arriving here. And if he falls...

Well, it won't much matter anymore, will it?

"But you don't care," Rocket said with a flick of his ears; not asking but rather guessing that was the case. Typical for the sort that just walked right into danger without a second thought.

Reminded him of some folks back home. Must be a Wrecker thing in general.

Snapping the scope back onto his pistol, Rocket lifted it and aimed at a rock out ahead of the sniper bot, taking a shot and shattering it. He seemed pleased with the aim and twirled it once before holstering it at his side, pushing himself up to stand now that he felt a bit more complete.

"So what sort of trouble you looking to get into, mate? Or what are you looking to do? Anyone that's willing to walk out here has to be better than the morons back in Haven that sit around doing nothing," he said rather bitterly, an angry little chitter following the words.

A rather perceptive little creature. Curious. Perceptor notes the ease that Rocky handles his gun with an appraising optic.

"I'd planned on scavenging. There's much still needed in Haven." And he is probably the most expendable individual capable of doing the job.

Perceptor's optics narrow as he peers up at the little creature. Such anger.

"And what would you do, given the opportunity and freedom? What injustice would you set right?"

Rocket's ears fall back against his head as his tail snaps back and forth a bit.

"For one, I wouldn't just let farkin' criminals walk away. I'm not saying kill them, though sometimes that might be for the best, but something needs to be farkin' done about them. Where I come from, on the team I'm apart of, we deal with all the farkin' crap that no one else will bother with and we keep things from falling apart. Here? No one seems to farkin' care! All they care about is playing house and it's farkin' annoying!" he snapped, not really angry at Perceptor just...Haven as a whole.

A chittering sound escapes him and he glares off to the side, slowly letting go of the anger as his ears lift a bit then fall to the sides slightly in a neutral sort of expression.

"They keep preaching about building a new society here but no one is farkin' doing a damn thing to expand and build. Everything's at a farkin' standstill, mate, and it's driving me insane."

"Killing them serves no purpose," Perceptor remarks with curious calm. "Their chosen Firstforged will only bring them back."

There's a suspicious amount of certainty in his voice as he says that. A knowingness to his tone, even.

"There are better ways."

He tilts his head as he considers Rocket for a long moment.

"I was on such a team where I was from, once, too. The Wreckers. We did the jobs that those in command did not even want to admit existed."

Such an expressive little creature. He reminds Perceptor a little of Springer. And just a bit of Whirl.

Perceptor offers a small shrug. "Some things are difficult to create without the base materials. That's why I'm going scavenging."

Well, sort of. It's a convenient excuse, anyway.

He can't help but add, "Less is at a standstill than you might think." Especially the "letting farkin' criminals walk away" part.

"I know what the Wreckers are. At least one version. Wheeljack told me about them and I joined. Haven't farkin' done much though," he mutters, clearly annoyed with it all. He had joined because it reminded him of the Guardians but, ever since joining, nothing had come of it.

At all.

Glancing at the sniper, Rocket frowns, rolling his eyes as he crosses his arms now and looks out towards the badlands.

"Sure as fark seems like it all is. Everyone spends too much time debating every little detail," he says with a slight shrug before his ears perk and his tail gives the slightest little flick at the tip. "Need any help, mate?"

"Not everyone."

He's probably said too much now, but, it hardly matters, as he considers it. Liege Maximo condoned the project, and even if the other Firstforged don't, well...

It won't be a huge loss if they punish Perceptor, anyway, will it. Drift will still have his conjux endura.

"If you wish," he replies with another small shrug. "Another set of vigilant optics is always welcome. And another gun." He reaches up toward Rocket, offering his hand for the small creature to hop onto.

"I'm Perceptor."

Rocket smirks, faintly, liking this one just a little bit better because there is some snark under there.

With a happy little tail flick he moves onto the other's hand, use to this by now because of all the time he's spent in the company of Fort Max. He lifts a paw and mock salutes the other, resting his free paw on one of his pistols.

"Name's Rocket, mate. It's a pleasure," he mused before taking the opening and easily scaling up the other's arm to perch on his shoulder.

Another handy little thing he'd mastered in the company of giant robots.

"So anything in particular we're looking for?"

Oblivion.

"Medical supplies, food, and anything else suited to the humans and other organics," he replies aloud. "Supplying for all the Cybertronians is much simpler here."

Perceptor remains still until Rocket has settled himself on his shoulder before moving out again.

"Otherwise, anything useful. Building materials, raw energon, chemical deposits..." He doesn't shrug this time, but the purposeful pause there indicates one anyway. "And if anything happens to get in the way, then we eliminate it. One less threat for Haven."

"I like the way you think, mate."

Because shooting things is something that Rocket loves to do; especially things that deserve it.

Settling in for their little venture, the raccoon doesn't bother to question the other on the reasoning behind on all this, even if he does wonder, for a second, if something else is going on.

It's just not his place though.

"Been wondering if there's anything worth a fark out past Haven. Never could find anyone to come with me though. Can't exactly carry much, unfortunately."

Perceptor huffs out a thin laugh.

"Cargo space, I can provide." He has at least some use, anyway. "My alternate mode is a tank."

Well, one of them, anyway. But his microscope mode isn't terribly useful out here right now.

"I've been scavenging the outskirts some, but there are others who can do that, and fewer who could survive beyond the borders. There must be something out there; there is no reason for the Lambda to segregate it's random drops."

"...As long as you don't run me over, we're fine."

Because he has a horrible track record with tank like things in this place.

When Percy mentions going out beyond the borders, Rocket perks up some, tail starting to twitch in almost a delighted way.

"finally, someone else with my farkin' line of thought. Been wanting to go it there, even started to but didn't go far. It'll be nice to have another gun to help out there though. Heard its farkin' dangerous..."

Which means he's overly ready for going out there.

"I... don't plan on it?"

Not the least of which is because getting raccoon out of treads? Eww.

"As have I. I have also heard that there are areas in the wastes which may affect our mental capacities, beyond the actual physical dangers. We will need to be vigilant in monitoring one another."

"Good. Don't have a good track record with that sort of thing here," he muttered, tail flicking a bit.

His anger melted away into a more serious concentration, the raccoon making a thoughtful sound as he glanced out ahead of them towards the badlands.

"Heard that too, mate. I'll make sure to keep an eye on you if you've got my back. Haven't been too far out there; been wanting to though. Curious to know why everyone's so farkin' scared of it."

"You don't have a good track record with being run over by tanks?"

Congratulations, Rocket; you managed to distract Perceptor from his wangst.

"Of course," Perceptor agrees. Would rather negate the whole point to taking anyone with him, if he were to just ignore Rocket's mental state, after all. "I have noticed that there are not as many individuals with extensive combat experience who have arrived as it appears on the surface. Any unexplored area would appear intimidating to those who lack the appropriate skills to deal with the dangers that have crept in toward Haven from the wastes."

His fur stands on end a bit, the raccoon shaking his head.

"Not at all, mate. And it bothers me to no end because I've never farkin' had it happen before until I landed in this farkin' place!" he snaps, tail twitching some more as he crosses his arms, glaring out towards the Badlands more.

"Fair enough. All the more reason for us blokes that can handle ourselves to do it. Works best if you don't tell anyone you're going either. Then they can't try and stop you. The sooner this sort of thing gets down, the better, in my opinion, mate."

Perceptor quirks a brow ridge up at that as he picks his way along a rubble-strewn path toward and outcrop ahead. He still favors sticking to places where he has a vantage from which to shoot, as well as trying to find a path where his traces will be as non-existent as possible.

"This place seem to encourage a lot of... unpleasant occurrences," he replies softly. Like hopes and dream being shattered in a burst of brilliant aerial maneuvers and a pair of tender stunned looks.

"I didn't tell anyone." Because they would have tried to stop him. Tried to lie and tell him how much they wanted him there, with them, too, when even he could see what an intruder he was. Just politeness and courtesy that would eventually melt into resentment and discord.

Better to take himself out of the picture altogether. They'll be happier that way.

"You won't be missed?" Perceptor hopes not. Rocket seems capable of taking care of himself, for sure, but if the raccoon is missed, someone might come looking for him, and Perceptor has no desire to be found.

"No one to miss me much, mate. My team isn't here, not really close to anyone else outside of Wrex and Fort Max," Rocket said with a shrug, ears perked and turning some as he kept tabs on things around them. "So I'm good to go wherever you want me to go with you."

He glanced at the other, briefly, before going back to his survey of the area, knowing that there was something very wrong about all of this; that something was really bothering the other.

Which was why he was determined to play good back up. Too many emotions lead to mistakes and he didn't want to see anyone hurt.

That sounds like a lonely life. It also sounds a bit too... familiar. It's that moment that decides Perceptor: he plots a route from what he can see that will take him beyond com range. He doesn't want to know that they aren't looking for him.

"Very well. I think our priority should finding supplies for you and the other organics." Because the more supplies they find for Rocket, the longer he can stay out and away.

Glancing at the other, Rocket's quiet a moment before his tail gives a flick and he nods some, settling in to get comfortable while still being able to shoot if he needs to.

"Sounds good to me, mate. Let's see what we can find out there," he mused.

And maybe they'd find something he could shoot and take some anger out on. That would be most ideal but hey, at least he was in good company.

Perceptor wasn't the only one ducking out of the Games for the day, though Prowl's self-imposed exclusion was for a different reason entirely.

After his initial plan had gone haywire, it had taken a few days to do some damage control and keep suspicious eyes away from himself. It wasn't for selfish reasons, mind. He could care less about what people thought about him. The important thing was that people focus on Tarn's acts and not his and Chromedome's. Part of that meant influencing the investigation as much as he could, and that kept him quite busy.

It wasn't particularly difficult, due to the Decepticon's penchant for making violent, public displays. But naturally, he had to move on to the next step of his revised plan. That meant he wasn't finished with Perceptor. Not by a long shot.

He sends out a ping to the Autobot sniper, attempting to establish communication. Looks like Prowl had a message for him, should he choose to accept it.

Oh lovely. His favorite mech. For a long moment, Perceptor considers ignoring the ping.

That would be childish and immature, though. If eminently satisfying.

With a sigh, Perceptor accepts the message.

"Perceptor."

Prowl's greeting wasn't particularly warm over the comm feed, but he did seem somewhat content to have gotten a reply.

After quite carefully checking that the signal was encrypted, he makes a simple demand,

"The plan changed. We need a more potent device as soon as possible."

"Changed."

Of course Prowl wouldn't be contacting him for any other reason.

"I'll need to know how it failed in order to produce something better."

In other words, how did Chromedome screw it up?

"It appeared to have operated exactly as planned. It simply wore off before Chromedome could finish injecting.", he explains offhandedly.

"Tarn won't relinquish the remains of the device, so that's as much information as I'll be able to provide."

The fact that Prowl was currently unaware of Perceptor's crisis was probably for the better. As distanced as he seemed to be from emotion, he could be quite good and manipulating them.

Wonderful.

He would comment that without the actual device, he cannot possibly ensure that the replacement will be suitably powerful, but 1) that would only give Prowl a chance to dig at his skills, and he's gotten enough of that in the past from Brainstorm, thankyouverymuch, and 2) Prowl can't help what Tarn does. Yet.

"I'll need a little time," he replies. Pleasing Prowl is the least of his priorities. Keeping Drift safe is what's important now. "I'll deliver it to you as soon as it is completed."

"Give me an estimate. These next few cycles are going to be complicated to work around."

He's going to have to do a lot of investigation and a lot of lying to people in the meantime.

With the way things are going now, Prowl's starting to think the people of Haven just need one more sacrificial lamb to confirm the story he's been pushing.

"Two cycles. Maybe three."

If it weren't that Drift was endangered by Tarn, Perceptor wouldn't even work that quickly. But he won't risk Drift's safety.

[Games or not, patroling was something Blurr did everyday and he tried to go a bit further away from the Haven each time. Back in his world he used to explore alone and he liked it that way. If something went wrong he only had to worry about himself, no point on risking other people's lives.

And that's why it was odd to see other mechs this far away from the Haven. He was heading back when he noticed Perceptor and decided to approach him. Blurr slowed down and finally stopped close to the other Autobot, changing back to robot mode.] HelloPerceptorsGoodday.

Perceptor is a little surprised when he catches the sound of another mech's engine all the way out here. He really isn't expecting Blurr to come zipping up out of the wastes to transform before him.

"Blurr. I thought you would be at the games."

He wants to know more about Perceptor and a good way to do that is talking to him. He takes the opportunity when he sees it.

"I was heading that way, yes,_{but I had}to do my duty first. And you?"

Prepare for some evasion, Blurr, because right now? Getting to know anyone better is pretty much the last thing Perceptor wants.

"I was just there. It... was lovely." He glances away, out across the edges of Haven and beyond, into what he can see of the wastes beyond. "Just feeling restless. Thought I would go scavenging a bit."

Pity, because you really look like you could use a friend, Percy.

Blurr studies the other mech body language in silence for a few seconds. He has the feeling that something's not right, but he can't tell what it is.

"Too bad I missed it then. Are you sure you don't want to wait until the games are over? "

Friends... are dangerous. They never stick around.

"There's not much left to them now," he replies with a small shrug. "I'd rather get something useful accomplished."

He'd rather be out of the way, where he can lick his wounds in peace.

"You could still make the closing ceremonies, though? I wouldn't want to keep you."

Oh, Blurr knows that. I never stopped him, though.

"I should have remembered that it started too soon." The blue bot gives Perceptor a sheepish look. Even someone as fast as him can't be everywhere at once. He wished he could. "I'll go see if I can see that or still race."

He shock his head. "Don't worry, ^youaren't. Are you sure you want to go alone? It's dangerous out there."

Perceptor can never be as brave as Blurr. He's tired of getting hurt.

"You've been out patrolling during the entire event?" Perceptor hopes not; he'll feel guilty for Blurr missing the fun.

"I know," he replies softly. He's counting on it being dangerous. To distract him. Maybe... maybe to eliminate the whole complication of him in their relationship. "I'm used to much worse, though. Hence why I feel that I should go."

Blurr wouldn't blame him if he knew. He's not really all that brave either.

"I didn't think it was going to start so soon. I'm not very good with parties or social iterations sometimes ANYWAY." Awkward bot is awkward. He always worries about what coudl be happening so his mind is most of the time focused on working. Perceptor's words, though, make him pause.

"Thatdoesntmakeitanybetter. You want to get hurt?"

Perceptor shakes his head. "No, of course not."

Untrue. Lying to Blurr now.

"It's merely that I am more used to watching out for unpredictable hazards than many here. The object is to refrain from getting injured."

Also not strictly true. He stares at Blurr evenly as his inner monologue calls him on his lies.

"After all, it would hardly be fitting to send someone like Cody out to scavenge for hidden resources."

"Good. I'm tired of seeing my friends get hurt or murdered." The worse part of doing his job are those time were he can't protect people properly. It always feels like a personal failure.

Shame on you, Perceptor.

"No it wouldn't be but if you get too^{far perhaps} you will have a hard time coming back. Ping me if you need help okay? Would be able to reach you faster than anybody."

Perceptor isn't quite sure what to say to that. For one thing, he agrees, insofar as he can agree; who would enjoy seeing their friends hurt or killed? Like Rung, for example. Rung, who Perceptor should be concentrating on finding out who had hurt him so badly. But he also doesn't want to see Rung with everything so raw and bleeding inside, still, regarding Drift and Wing and that mess.

Perceptor can't help but wonder, though... when had he become Blurr's friend?

Unless Blurr is merely speaking in generalities. That's more likely.

Yes, he decides. Blurr is merely speaking in a general sense.

"Thank you, Blurr. I will." He offers what he hopes is a convincing enough look of gratitude, then nods off toward the distant games. "You can still make it, if you hurry?"

It was a bit of both, really. He was mostly being general but he appreciates Perceptor and he wants to know him a bit better. He also wants the other bot to be safe and unharmed.

He smiles little at that. "Thank you. I would be a pity if something happened when I haven't had time to talk to you more." Blurr follows Perceptors's gaze and nods. "It won't take me all that much to get there if I run."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

the only problem with running from yourself is that you are always there

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject