schrodingersbot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
schrodingersbot) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
re_alignment2012-08-20 09:26 pm
schrodingersbot) wrote in re_alignment2012-08-20 09:26 pm
Entry tags:
[VIDEO]
[The video feed, when it clicks on, is a bit chaotic, the picture jerking about roughly. What landscape that can be discerned in the image, however, seems to be near the border of the badlands. Something large, mechanical, and sharp suddenly slashes into the frame and then back out again, like a weapon being thrust toward the camera.]
AAhhhhh! Cease and desist at once, you arachnid annoyance!
[Perceptor briefly flails into view for a moment, looking a bit flustered, before he ducks out of view again under another swipe of that weapon. Or rather, not a weapon, as the view shifts wildly to pan across a massive robotic spider with very large fangs lowered threateningly toward the camera.]
[As the view swings wildly again, there are muffled thuds and thumps and the thick clang of metal against metal that seem to hint at an epic struggle. Perceptor looks much more harried when he bounces into view again.]
I, ah, seem to have stumbled into a bit of an inconvenience... wherever this location is. If anyone is nearby, assistance would be greatly appreciated!
[There is an odd, almost liquid sound that splatters into the feed, and a sudden yelp from Perceptor as a stream of thick, greyish goop blasts past his head.]
As soon as possible?
AAhhhhh! Cease and desist at once, you arachnid annoyance!
[Perceptor briefly flails into view for a moment, looking a bit flustered, before he ducks out of view again under another swipe of that weapon. Or rather, not a weapon, as the view shifts wildly to pan across a massive robotic spider with very large fangs lowered threateningly toward the camera.]
[As the view swings wildly again, there are muffled thuds and thumps and the thick clang of metal against metal that seem to hint at an epic struggle. Perceptor looks much more harried when he bounces into view again.]
I, ah, seem to have stumbled into a bit of an inconvenience... wherever this location is. If anyone is nearby, assistance would be greatly appreciated!
[There is an odd, almost liquid sound that splatters into the feed, and a sudden yelp from Perceptor as a stream of thick, greyish goop blasts past his head.]
As soon as possible?
[ACTION!] 2... 1... kapow.
[Before the words register, Perceptor's hands are already telling him something... distressing. Drift... doesn't feel quite right. There's the hip sheathes, but the plating is different. There's curves where there should be angles, and seams that Perceptor is expecting just are not there.]
[And then his hands reach the spaulders, and Drift's chest, and those are definitely different. But the same. Different enough for Perceptor to notice and be shaken by the similarities and differences.]
[And then the words register, and for a moment, Perceptor reels as if struck.]
Do you...
[One hand is grasping Drift's upper arm, as if he's afraid that if he lets go, reality will shatter apart, while the other hand scrubs frantically at his optics. The goop comes away with a thick schlorp, and Perceptor gets his first goof look at Drift.]
...oh.
[Ever kick a puppy, Drift? Or a young turbofox? Because this is what it looks like.]
[ACTION!]
[He reaches out a hand to steady the other mech who seems pretty wobbly. And the face, as he tips his head up to see, looks...weirdly familiar. Almost like Perceptor when he'd first met him. He could almost imagine him bending over, thoughtful finger on his chin, examining Drift's Crystal City upgrades.]
Perceptor?
[This is by far the worst 'thank you' to a rescue he's gotten so far. ]
[ACTION!]
[The voice is achingly familiar. Perceptor takes a moment to visually scan Drift over. There's the Greatsword, looking as it ever had, gem winking in the light. There's the helm finials, and the familiar weight of the spaulders, and the short swords in their sheathes, and even the shin greaves... but everything, except the Greatsword, is just a little different. And very new.]
You've been upgraded recently, reconfigured, but in a manner I haven't seen used in years.*
[Funny you should consider those words, Drift. Except, this time, instead of a Perceptor recognizing New Crystal City work, it's a Perceptor recognizing the deft skills of a Ratchet in your rebuild. There's no finger on his chin, though. Just a hand still clutching your arm, which he suddenly remembers; he snatches his hand back with an embarrassed cough.]
My apologies. I thought you were someone else. You... are a Drift, aren't you?
[Just not his Drift. He'd been right. His Drift isn't there. He's alone. Again.]
[Arriving on Gillanan III hadn't hurt this much. Giant spider notwithstanding.]
Thank you for- for saving me. [He'd been about to say, "for your assistance," but a spade being a spade, and all, Drift hadn't "assisted". He'd saved Perceptor. Just like his Drift had. Just like his Drift had saved his Perceptor. That thought summons a thing shadow of a sad smile to his features.]
You have a talent for that, it seems.
* quoted/paraphrased from Spotlight Drift on purpose.
[ACTION!]
'A' Drift? [Is this like that Dent thing again? Someone stealing his name?]
It's...uh, I mean you called for help. I mean...uh you're welcome?
[ACTION!]
I do not understand.
[That's spoken in a murmured lament. He motions as if he intends to reach forward to brush his fingers against the Greatsword's hilt, but stops himself before his hand even gets near Drift, himself, much less the Sword.]
Yes. "A" Drift. I knew a Drift; he was my friend. [More than a mere friend, but this Drift does not need that burden. He glances up at the Greatsword again, before meeting Drift's gaze. His Drift would have lectured him, called him "nerd", yelled at him for getting himself into trouble.]
You... are certain that you do not remember me? [He can't help the hopeful look or the wistful tone of his voice. Maybe this is his Drift? Merely... addled, somehow?] Or the Event Horizon?
[ACTION!] lol DZ Drift *would* have!
I've been saying that a lot since I woke up here. But at least we had a break before getting attacked.
[He can't help but notice the way the other's optics keep flitting over to his Great Sword. But he has no idea what to make of it.]
Well, you remind me of Perceptor. When I first met him. [For those few moments before Turmoil....yeah. That.]
No. It was the Trion. [He tilts his head.] Did you get hit on the head? Stung with some cyberneurotoxin or something?
[action]
[It's the smile, really, that drives home just how much this is not his Drift, and Perceptor wilts. He's seen versions of himself, and iterations of many other mechs over the years. It makes sense that there would be other Drifts.]
A break? Oh. I am fairly certain that I should not have come out here. I was lost in thought. [Brooding, actually.] I am afraid that I lost track of my surroundings. [So basically, getting attacked right away was pretty much all Perceptor's own fault.]
Thank you for your assistance. You were not harmed, were you?
[He gamely summons up a shaky smile of his own, which falters a bit as he actually looks at Drift and sees what a mess Perceptor has made of the swordsmech's plating.]
Oh dear...
Trion? [His wandering attention snaps back to Drift's face as he shakes his head negatively.] I do not remember any Trion.
The... the Drift that I knew did not come from my reality. This is not the first time that I have awoken in a reality that was not my own. Nor the first time that I have met others who were likewise removed from their base universes.
[He's trying to be brave and understanding and something like cheerful as he offers Drift what is probably supposed to be a smile again. It's debatable how successful he is. Probably not very at all.]
Neither of us were from the reality where we met. And we always knew that we might be taken away without warning.
I, ah, will not be capable of recalling your "Trion". I'm sorry.
[Though saying the name "Trion" reminds him of the glyph on his arm, and he reaches up to absently rub at it with his opposite hand.]
[action]
Lost in thought? I mean...you must have been. Really lost. [You don't lose a lifetime's wariness, ever. He'd sensed Mirage's presence back on Cybertron--he can't imagine being so situationally unaware that he'd somehow end up as spiderbait.]
Not really injured. I mean, not much more injured. Than I was. Before. [Wow that doesn't sound good. Next topic plz.]
[He nods.] A few others have said that. That they've been other places between their home and here.
....I'm sorry. [He has no idea exactly why, other than that the mech seemed sad.]
[action] happy scope has run out of happy... refill?
Ah... eh-heh, yes. [Perceptor glances down and rubs one sticky hand against the back of his neck with embarrassment. "Situational Awareness" and Perceptor just don't often occupy the same spheres, normally.] I, ah, tend to do that. You-- Err, He would often... scold me. For that.
Before? [Perceptor's gaze snaps back up and now he is really peering at Drift with a medic's optic. That's damage to the external audio sensors, for one thing, and there may be other damages hidden under the transferred goo.]
[He nods absently, filing the comment about others away for later, then waves off the sympathy. He is sad, and will probably have something of a breakdown later. When he can be alone to do so. Where's it's safe. And private.]
[For now, though, there's something here to distract him from the growing ache in his chassis.]
I have some medical skill. Please, allow me to assist you? [He sighs ruefully.] Once we are decontaminated, that is. I owe you for your assistance, at the very least.
[action]
[As you kind of found out.]
[It's his turn to look a little sheepish.] Uh. There was a crazy tentacle robot. And sharkticons before that. And the plague. But I had that when I came here.
[Reasons we don't let Drift tell stories part 7,334.]
I'm fine, though. [His brow furrows under his helm. ] Just a little banged up. That's all.
[action] waaaaannngst!
Had that? [Now he looks alarmed, and Perceptor's hands keep twitching, as if he is holding himself back from running them over Drift's chassis to make certain that the swordsmech is functional.] What plague? Sharkticons?
[He frowns, and then reaches up to point at the damage to Drift's audio.] That is a bit more than "banged up". [The frown shifts to something a little sadder, more worried, especially when his detailed study picks out the faint traces of fresh welds along Drift's chest and torso.]
Are there real medics in residence here? Please allow someone to see to your injuries, if not me? [He'd really prefer if Drift would allow him to see to the repairs, but it makes perfect sense that Drift wouldn't want to allow Perceptor that sort of familiarity. That his Drift had is the bigger mystery.]
At least allow your repair technician to ensure that you have not stressed those recent repairs? [He's not quite begging, yet, as he nods toward the fresh welds he'd noted a few moments before, but he's quite adamant.] I will only go as far as to make certain that you arrive safely, and then I will leave you in peace, I promise?
[action]
[It's pretty gross. That stuck with him because he'd been so helpless. Sharkticons he could fight; he even endured Prism's torture as something he could almost understand--violence, sadism--but a disease? Microbes? It had been unsettling. ]
Uh yeah. Prism did that so I couldn't call for help. ...not that I would have. [Because he's not weak. Okay? Got it? ]
We have real medics. Ratchet. And Pharma. And they're mostly done with repairs. And Vandal--she's looked at my fuel lines. And to see if there was a bomb in me.
[In short he's pretty used to strangers rooching around inside him. Occupational hazard.] They're just...busy. And this stuff isn't important. [Working comm? Yeah who needs that?]
[action]
You have been properly treated for that? The Red Rust? I have a serum designed for Cosmic Rust, if not. It would be simple enough to examine a sample of this plague and adjust the Corrostop serum to treat it.
[He's not bragging; it's just truth. If it's science, Perceptor can do it.]
[And there's that horrified look again, with a heavy dollop of angry.]
Could not call for help? [Ratchet up the angry. Well, not Ratchet, the doc, ratchet the dial.] Why did this Prism wish to prevent you from getting assistance? [And where can he find Prism, if it's for why he's afraid it's for?]
["Real medics." Yes, that's right, Perceptor isn't a "real medic". He's just the stopgap because they had no choice. He wilts a little.]
Well... if you have--
[Ratchet. They have Ratchet. Could it be his Ratchet? His knees buckle, dropping him to a rather precipitous seat in the dirt. It's all just too much for him suddenly. Losing Drift, losing even the usefulness of his medical bay on the Event Horizon, losing all of his new friends after years of having lost his home, and now, Ratchet?]
[And a bomb, too? It's fitting, really; Drift - his Drift - always had seemed more than capable of getting himself into - and back out of - trouble, but it's just exhausting. Everything is. This isn't his Drift, and he's all alone again, and what will his Drift think to find Perceptor gone? He'd promised. He'd promised to stay, and even that's been taken, and he's just weary of it all, of the loneliness and the loss and what will Ratchet think of any of this? What will this Drift think of his pitiful weakness? He drops his head into his hands, elbows braced on his knees.]
It's not unimportant, Drift. And it's all right to ask for help when you need it. ...you never were able to see your own value...
It needs properly repaired.
[action]
[He shrugs. ] Prism said he was a scientist. And wanted some help. He cut open my chassis and...yeah. It was bad.
[Drift: not good talking about bad things. Especially when his audience suddenly seems to collapse: Drift reaches out, trying to catch the larger mech's arms to prevent him from falling.
It'll get fixed when there's time. [A sort of sheepish grimace: Drift's been yelled at a lot about this.]
[action]
[Of course. Pharma is a "real medic". Why shouldn't Drift have faith in him? Perceptor sighs, caught between the moment where he feels safe in familiar arms, and the moment he processes whose arms he's relly in. His gaze shifts upward, a deep yearning etched into his features as he stares at Drift--]
[Then everything registers. Drift's arms, his stare, what a fool he must look... He stiffens, and tries to crumple up that want and familiarity and lock it away behind calm professionalism as he struggles to gather his feet back under himself. How successful he actually is in stifling that aching desire... well, only Drift can say. This Perceptor has never been particularly good at lying, and Drift has quite a bit of experience in seeing past a much more stoic Perceptor's facade.]
I have time now?
[It's a weak offer, battered by Perceptor's shaken confidence and his acute embarrassment, but it's an offer, nonetheless.]
[action]
[It hurts, and for a long moment he wishes he were this other Drift, who seemed to have it all together. Drift...does not have much together.]
Uh.... if you want? [He scans the area.] I don't see anything dangerous.
[action]
[It takes Perceptor a moment to get himself back to his feet, not clinging to Drift for balance; he uses the distraction to cover his rather obvious attempt to regain his composure.]
Perhaps you know of somewhere to, ah... decontaminate ourselves, first?
[He holds up his hands, indicating the tacky spider spit caught on his fingertips, and also waves toward all the goop that Perceptor had smeared across Drift's chassis, as well. He coughs out a bit of a nervous little chuckle as it occurs to him that all the transfer looks as if he and Drift have been up to something entirely different together.]
[action]
Liege's temple has some washracks. Or Solus's temple, which is right by the medibay.
[He has no preference. He squints at Perceptor, trying to see his holomark.] Who's your First Forged, anyway?
[action]
[He reaches up to scrub a blotch of goop from his arm where the glyph should be.]
Wherever you think would be most convenient. I am already in possession of my own medical tools, equipment, and supplies to make minor repairs.
[So he doesn't really need to use the medibay. Putting off seeing this ratchet? Maybe.]
[action]
We're closer to Solus. But...I'm pretty good at getting in and out unseen.
[Yeah don't think about that too long.]
[action]
[Perceptor tilts his head, favoring Drift with a considering look.]
Why must you remain unseen?
[action]
[Wince.]
I, uh, sneak out sometimes.
[action]
[Sneak out? Speaking of sneaking, perceptor has a sneaking suspicion, and it onvolves that medibay near the Solus temple, and the fact that Drift still has injuries.]
You were not supposed to have been released from the medibay when you came to my rescue?
[It's more a statement than a question, but there's the upward lilt of uncertainty at the end there, so... it could still be seen as a question.]
[action]
Uh. Not...exactly. [He could possibly look more guilty, but it would take effort.] But you needed help. And I'm fine, so...it's all..fine?
[action]
[He sighs, stifling a frown. It's something Drift would do. It's something Drift actually had done, in fact; he shouldn't be surprised. With a thin, fond smile and a shake of his head, Perceptor reaches out to grasp Drift's hand, tugging him away from the spider carcass just as he would have done to his own Drift.]
Show me back to this temple, and I shall assist in getting you clean before performing some diversionary action so that you may more safely return to your repair berth. Then I shall tender your final repairs? I do owe you for saving my life, after all.
[He smiles down at Drift, and almost leans in to brush a kiss against the swordsmech's helm... until he realizes what he's done, and what he is about to do.]
Oh! I beg your pardon!
[He nervously releases Drift's hand and drops his gaze down to Drift's feet.] I'm sorry! I'm just used to-- That is... Umm... I mean...
Which direction is Solus?
[action]
[action] "every breath you take...."
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