re_alignment | [Video] feeling the Call

Entry tags:

tf: idw | drift

[Video] feeling the Call

[Drift has looked better. His armor's dented and stained, but nothing looks obviously fatal. More than that, he looks...tired. And twitchy. Which is not a good combination in anyone, least of all him.]

Going back out to the Badlands.

Don't follow.

((OOC: because of his canon (D-Void) and having been into the Badlands twice already, he's feeling the effects of the Calling sooner than anyone else. BUT feel free to comm him or stop him or whatever! ))

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[Over the past several hours it feels like so much has just gone to hell. Things, lives, people, slipping through his fingertips. And now this...]

Drift! I've been looking for you, where have you been!?

And to the Badlands!? Why? What now?

[He's looking aghast again. There's been a lot of that over the past few hours.]

Sorry. [He is. He might not sound like it.] Meant to comm you.

Everything's...fine. [Depending on one's definition of the word.]

Just something out there. I could feel it.

[He wants to believe it's sincere, so he does.]

....Fine? [Not a word that's had a positive definition in a while really.]

Drift...do you realize how that sounds? [You're starting to scare him. Granted, it's not that hard right now, give recent death and dismemberment.]

Just...

....do you feel all right? [Misdirection? Not really.]

No. [No, he has no idea how that sounds, honestly. He thinks it sounds pretty clear.]

[A beat, because normally he wouldn't want to burden someone with it, but...]

No. No Drift I really don't. One moment I'm chasing a drunken scientist in the bowels of Haven and the next I'm fighting horrible feelings that you're in danger and then returning to find dead and injured mechs thanks to Overlord and now you want to just up and leave for the Badlands.

[That may have escalated into a little ranting. Not quite hysterics though, thankfully.]

...

I-I'm sorry. I just...I don't know why I can't get a handle on this.

[Deep breaths mech. Start observing rather than reacting and maybe you'll figure it out.]

...We already know there's something out there, Drift. We've felt it before. Is it...calling you?

Oh. [Well. When you put it that way...? Now he feels kind of bad. ]

Wing. Look. I really--really--don't want to hurt you. That's why I'm trying to get away.

[He's struggling, his emotions slipping out of control.]

It's...I don't know. None of the others who...left mentioned feeling anything like this.

[Then again none of them had really talked at all.]

[He feels more than a little sheepish now: he hadn't quite meant to dump all that at once...]

I know you don't Drift. [He can't refute that concern.] But do you know that's what's going to happen? And how does leaving help that?

[If you get yourself killed or lost it'll hurt Wing just as much, if not more. He won't say it, because it feels emotional blackmail, but it's written on his face.]

If that really becomes an issue we can deal with it. Preferably in a way that doesn't get you hurt.

[He frowns, because something about this just seems off.] You've never been this willing to venture out there.

If I'm right, I could hurt you. Kill you. I'd rather be wrong than be right and endanger you. Or Vandal. Or anyone.

But it's out there. What Vector said. It's out there. I can stop it.

[He can't hold it back this time, it's logic, and the hard truth.]

And how will she or I feel if you go to the Badlands and don't return?

[He shakes his head, both to try to clear it and to dismiss the thought. He puts two fingers to his crest as he cycles a long breath.]

Someone gets hurt regardless in that senerio, there must be a better way. Assuming worst case scenario, the last time this happened, you said you fought it and won. How long did it take? The loss of control, was it immediate?

[He's trying to be rational now, constructive and more clear headed. Though now he's starting to notice the it, the Calling.]]

It? .... You don't mean Unicron, do you? [this a new kind of crazy talk and Wing doesn't like it any better!]

Wing.

[...he has no retort for that, honestly. ]

I will return. I can fight it. I fought it before.

It was fast, but it was coming through. If this Unicron is still...wherever he is, it's weaker.

I don't want to wait till it gets stronger. Till it takes someone else.

Do you know how hard it was to let you leave last time? [His demeanor is fierce, but behind it hides a quavering fear and grief...]

I won't let you go. Certainly not by yourself.

If harming others is your concern then Haven has a perfectly good jail.

[He should know, McCrane had him test it. Though thoughts of McCrane almost break him again.]

... Til it takes someone else? So you think you can just...go into the Badlands and fix the problem? By yourself? The very thing the First Forged are still trying to purge from the planet? ...how?

And how do you know it isn't Unicron making you do this!?

Wing.

I know. [Believe him. He knows. He hated leaving. And he hates that he hasn't reclaimed the rest of that kiss yet. ]

...I can't. Not jail. Please.

[He tilts his head, Wing's obvious distress penetrating his mood. ]

I can try. It's bad enough we have mechs like Overlord here, hurting our kind. Now this?

[He shrugs.] Besides, the worst that could happen...isn't that bad.

[There's something in hearing the name, as if it helps keep them bound together.]

Drift.

[There's so much he wants right now...]

"Fair enough. Then somewhere else? Confined to quarters. Mine or another high in the tower. There are options that are better than you leaving."

[He does his best to steady himself, flight panels fluttering in discomfort.]

Trying without some chance of success is just suicide. I'm not saying we shouldn't fight him. Vector even bid me to do so when I asked how I could help. But we have to be smart about it, don't we?

[His amber optics twitch in alarm as he looks at Drift searchingly.] And what do you call 'the worst that could happen' that it isn't so bad?

...I don't want you to have to see me. If it gets like that again.

[Why is it so hard for everyone to accept he's trying to save them?]

No one even seems to realize this is an enemy. We're all so focused on each other that half the time the mechs we've lost we haven't even noticed until it's too late. Someone's stealing them from under us. We need to know who and why.

[He shrugs.] If I die, I'll come back.

Drift...I've seen you at your worst, or near to it. I'm in this, with you. I love you, regardless.

[Why is it so hard for Drift to accept help? Especially from his loved ones.]

I know it's an enemy Drift. But it's a faceless, frameless enemy right now. What can we physically do against it? How do we fight it? I'm certain that's why the First Forged never made it widespread knowledge. It'd just create panic.

I-- [A beat, because he hates hearing the first three words so much that it makes him think he's misheard the last three.] You'll what?

[Drift looks...distressed.] Promise me, Wing. Promise me you won't let me hurt you.

Maybe I can goad it out, make it show itself. Because it's not getting to surprise me. That has to be something we can use.

[He frowns.] The Primes hid things from us back on Cybertron, before the war. I'm sure they thought it was for some similar rationale.

I'll come back. Wing, if we were brought here for a reason they won't let us die without fulfilling it.

[It's a distressing subject all around.] I-I'll defend myself Drift. You know I can. I promise.

Goad it out. And then do what? [He tilts his head.] How do you avoid being surprised?

[Drift has a point, though it's hard for Wing to imagine that the First Forged would conspire against them.] Maybe they don't want to involve us if they don't have to. I think they're trying to protect us, not involve us in their battles. It's not their fault their enemy keeps targeting us, is it?

Come back...from death? [He stares, his face blank.] How is that possible? Is that within the First Forged power?

[The audio ping comes later than when Wing's original message was made, but it was quicker finding the first than the latest.]

Wing, I have Drift. Where would you want me to meet you?

[There's a moment where Wing just...can't quite comprehend what Jetfire is saying. Or rather, he comprehends, but that's different then understanding...]

Jetfire. You... 'have him?'

[It's possibly the most absurd and wonderful thing Wing has ever heard.]

Ah... my room in Vector's tower. Balcony that faces the rising sun with the red pennant.

[He not sure where else would be best at this short notice, but at the very least, if Wing has to knock Drift out and then lock him inside then he will.]

[There was swooping and everything! Very dramatic. And probably ridiculous as well.]

Since reasoning with him wasn't working for any of us, I... ah. Went and got him. If I'd been sure merely confronting him where he was would have worked, I would have, but it seemed... safer and simpler to do it this way.

On my way, then. Shouldn't take more than a breem.

[Since he's flying slower with Drift in his arms... Not so much because Drift is heavy (he isn't), but to cut down on wind and debris.]

[Hopefully there's video evidence, for reminiscing later! In other words, Wing would love to see this...]

I...

[It's true, Wing was making progress, but only a little. He was starting to think he'd have to go after Drift himself.]

Thank you Jetfire. I'll see you soon then.

[If anything, Jetfire could probably be convinced to share the memory itself!]

If nothing else, it should hopefully be easier for you to handle this in person.

[That usually helped, since one does have a few more methods to try in person than over a comm. link.]

As soon as I can.

[That would be a very tempting offer! Maybe when all this is done with.]

One could hope yes.

[On a different day, he'd be hard-pressed not to read innuendo into that. But today it has a whole different secondary meaning.]

I'll be waiting.

[And Wing does, solemnly at the edge of the berth, the same one he vividly remembers them sharing. He's gotten next to no recharge in two and a half days. Too exhausted to pace but too anxious to sit, he stands and fidgets instead.]

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[audio] /threadjack, later of course

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