re_alignment | [Video -> Text] [Transmission Originating From: Vectorian Sector]

Entry tags:

✘ real steel | noisy boy

[Video -> Text] [Transmission Originating From: Vectorian Sector]

[The video is only on for a few moments - long enough to show a purple bot with wide shoulders, a samurai helmet, and glowing yellow optics - before shutting off. After that is a burst of text.]

Many of you exceed WRB height restrictions. You also violate a number of other WRB regulations, including illegal use of weapons and possession non-standard upgrades.

I am not where I should be.

[He would just like to let you all know YOU ARE SO ILLEGAL. SO. ILLEGAL now down to a few extra messages-]

If anyone happens to see Charlie Kenton I would like to be informed. He is a human with short, dark hair and brown eyes. He also has a son, Max. I do not wish them to be alone with unfamiliar bots if they come here.

Gunmax. Thank you for the ride, when we arrived. It was kind of you.

To the bot with the fins on his head: My name is Noisy Boy. 'Soundwave' is a terrible name.

And there was a red and white bot. I apologize if I fightened you somehow.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And this does not stop at all? [No pausing? Ever?] I believe your people have a problem. No offense.

[Constant fighting and constant fixing would be taxing even to Noisy Boy.]

So sort of like handlers. [Or like the mechanics that worked with some of his handlers, maybe.]

[He isn't entirely sure that that sort of thing is legal for him... but there's nothing in his coding strictly prohibiting it...] You have given me much to think on, sir.

Will you be able to?

We have lulls. But they're fragile and break all the time.

But yes. We have a problem. And we're trying to fix it. Or I am, at least. [No offense: how could he be offended at the truth?]

Sort of. Someone to fight alongside you. Not just watch. [The 'sir' startles him.] Drift. Just...Drift. And I hope so. Some day. Or [a sort of false bravado grin ] die trying, right?

It is something that ought to be fixed, so I am glad you are working on it. [Even he has downtime, after all.

Our handlers do not just watch. But I understand what you mean. [Mostly.] Drift, then. I will remember. Though I hope you do not die trying.

[It kind of defeats the purpose of living.]

The war's over. We're trying to start...something else.

It's hard, when all you know is fighting to figure out what 'not fighting' looks like.

[Maybe you can relate.]

I'd like to live to see things through, but...as long as I give my life to make that happen, what more could I ask for?

[Maybe that would be redemption enough.]

It can be. Sometimes it is easier, when you can separate the fighting from everything else, by keeping it to certain times or places.

[It was one of the first things he had learned, when he was young.]

Would redemption truly be worth death, though? Was what happened before that terrible?

Yes. It must be. [This is something Drift doesn't have a lot of experience with himself.]

It would because it's final. You can't undo it, and you can't ask someone to pay more than their life.

[For all the lives he'd taken, it would still hardly be fair: one life for all of those?]

We've lived in very different worlds. I have taken lives. How do you make up for that?

It might be something to try, if you can. [Since Drift has given him so much advice already, he can at least give this much back.]

It is not something that can be taken back. Sometimes destruction is done, and it is terrible. [He may not end things like Underground bots do, but he's certain he's ended careers - practically a death sentence in some cases.]

However, I do not think adding another death to that toll would make up for anything.

I'd like to try that. [A grin.] Maybe here. Maybe you could teach me.

Destruction is terrible, but some of us are made for nothing better. The best you can do is make your death count.

The best anyone can do is to make themselves count. At least to someone.

I have never taught before, but I could certainly try. [He just needs to find something like a concrete punching block first... hrm.]

True. Though it is easier to make your life count to someone.

If I can find something else to do with my life than what I was made for, perhaps you can too.

I'd like to see it. [Dude. You are surrounded by things you can punch. Just look around you!]

...I think we disagree on that. [As hard as he tries, Drift is not exactly a friend-making machine.]

I'm trying. But we can both agree, it's hard. Hard to take that first step, at least.

Perhaps we will have the opportunity, then. [True, but Noisy Boy is the by-the-books type.]

Unfortunate. But surely you living means something to those you protect? [He never had friends before coming here, himself.]

It is, but as you said, you have to try even if it is difficult.

I look forward to it. [It's entirely sincere. Drift is fascinated by combat styles. And it's something he feels comfortable talking about.]

I'd rather not mean something. Because of what I do. Because I'm eventually going to get killed and...I don't want anyone to feel that pain. [As he has, twice, with Gasket, with Wing. ]

[Oh he sees how it is: doing that 'throwing his own words back at him' thing, huh? Well played, Noisy Boy, well played. But two can play at that game.] We'll do it together.

As do I. [He may not say it - or admit to it - but he does like showing his moves off. And it's something comfortable.]

You cannot really stop how others feel about you. If they will be upset by your passing. Any more than I can.

[He does have his moments on occasion, after all. Noisy Boy is a relatively smart bot.] Very well. I would like that.

I just...I wish they'd concentrate on living, being happy. I've spent enough time dragging the past along. I kind of want it to end with me.

[Which also means maybe he should stop talking about it? Old habits, sorry.]

They can miss you and still go on living. Remember the past and still look forward to the future. Things never truly end.

[Noisy Boy hopes, anyway.]

Easier said than done, friend. It's hard to forget those that really matter. I mean, you and your other operators, right?

I can never forget them. Or my opponents. But that does not stop me from continuing on when I am transferred to another handler, or go into another bout.

They are part of me, but they are not all of me. Just like those you have encountered do not define you entirely.

Can I ask a question?

[HE WILL ANYWAY. Because you can always not answer.]

How do you do that? I mean. If each one is special, how do you do that without them seeming less...special?

[Because he doesn't want that.]

I remember what made them each unique. Tak Mashido built me. Charlie Kenton repaired me when by rights he should not have. Others upgraded my systems, or took me to places I had not seen previously.

One showed me the stars for the first time.

They each did one thing that the others did or could not. It puts them on equal footing for me, save one.

[Tak Mashido is important beyond just being his handler, for him.]

How does it not hurt to remember that?

[He tries to understand this, but it mostly just hurts, thinking of Gasket, and how everything had changed with his death. Thinking of Wing, and how everything had changed again.]

'Save one.'

Sometimes it hurts. But I try to remember the positive changes more than the negative. And it is our nature, to be passed from one handler to another. To have them enter and leave our lives.

Tak Mashido will always be different. He was my handler and my father.

[And being sold by him still stings a little because of that. It was the one time he could remember feeling like he wasn't good enough.]

It's a nature I don't have, I'm afraid.

[Noisy Boy might have been programmed to it: Drift was not.]

Your 'father'? [Another thing he has no frame of reference for.]

I wish I could help. I am afraid I am out of my depth, here.

[Cybertronians are so much different from Earth-bots, it seems.]

Yes. A human term for a relative - one of the ones that made them or raised them when they were young. Tak Mashido created me and was my first handler and trainer.

I think both of us are. [He's not that good at metaphysics. Yet!]

We, Autobots, we believe a mech has a right to their own destiny. Free will, choice. Freedom. Something like being a possession, to be given or sold or bought...that's like slavery.

[He listens, trying to understand. ] It is normal for the parent and his creations to part ways?

We boxing bots are a commodity. We were built with a purpose already. I am only passingly familiar with slavery, but I do not think I have met a bot that dislikes what they were programmed to do.

[It's simply how things are. He couldn't really ask for more.]

It can be, among humans. To my knowledge, many of them part ways when their children - their creations - reach a certain age.

[Video -> Text] [Transmission Originating From: Vectorian Sector]

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