Perceptor (
gunfondlingbattlestat) wrote in
re_alignment_logs2013-07-08 12:33 am
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.
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.

no subject
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?"
no subject
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."
no subject
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?"
no subject
"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."
no subject
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."
no subject
"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."
no subject
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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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."
no subject
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."
no subject
"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."
no subject
"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 subject
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.
no subject
"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.
no subject
"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.