Seeing trust....
Dec. 29th, 2008 04:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quidamlingrandomness. at some point there is a much more... physical version of their debate on this issue. but the somewhat civil conversation was a little easier for the moment.
ahh, brotherly love.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What the frag do you see in him?"
"Ironhide, I swear to Primus, I- ...fine." Pale blue optics flared in exasperation. "Not here." The white mech made a pointed toss of his helm towards the door, turned and slipped off.
The weapons specialist grunted, annoyed and worried, before he followed.
The two brothers both moved down the halls with a silence and stealth that belied their own bulk and plating colors, unmolested by the rest of the base. Soon enough outside, Heatseek drank in the sun then folded down and tore off. Ironhide blinked and followed suit.
While the two very different pickups roared through the terrain, it almost could have looked like a playful race. It even approached it, but the brothers had never had that type of relationship, and building it this late in the game was awkward at best. Still, 'Seek rumbled agreeably when his older sparksib attempted a challenging surge forward. He even played along enough to swing suddenly towards the black TopKick, who jigged aside before the Ford connected to plating.
But it was like reading a script for someone else, their sparks weren't in it. Soon enough they settled back to simply driving across the landscape.
For a moment the Ford realized he was heading towards a very secluded grove, a place he tended to feel safe and comfortable. Not there. That was special, and for him and... alone. He veered off and went to a rocky overhang up in the mountains. He slowed, sensing his brother do the same beside him and stopped. Rising out to his bipedal mode, he looked out across the view. Ironhide transformed beside him and growled, pulling 'Seek back to the present and their conversation.
'Seek sighed and gracefully settled to the ground, neatly folding his legs under him.
'Hide remained standing, and crossed his arms. He stood over the sleeker pickup and growled a wordless query.
Thin white finials twitched downwards, core programming making a decent facsimile of a nervous dog instinctively pulling his ears back. Primus damned spawn of a glitch, always dominant in everything... Heatseek thought, not without a hint of derision.
"He'd been the one slinking around the edges of our detection grids, bothering the patrols-"
"Excellent first impression," the TopKick cut in with a snarl.
"Do you want to hear this or not, Ironhide?" the white mech snapped.
He seethed quietly.
"Fine," Heatseek continued. "So he was around. And I... I wasn't in a good place when I met him."
"You weren't in a good place when you made planetfall..." Ironhide replied, some of the gruffness gone from his voice.
"It got worse, alright? We were fighting. As the mechs found out about me I had to defend what the frag a pacifist was about being an assassin in black ops. Pheh... even Jazz, who's got a fair amount of energon on his plating calling me a murderer." The younger mech hunched in at the thought. “And I know, I know. He just pokes buttons, but…”
“Heatseek,” ‘Hide groused with a churl, “we’ve all had to-”
“You fragging enjoy it.”
The weapons specialist shrugged. His brother sighed and turned to look out towards the setting sun, Ironhide rumbled softly and followed his gaze. They remained in a tense silence for a long few minutes.
Suddenly ‘Seek broke the quiet, and the TopKick practically jumped. “It was after we had that big blow up, you’d gone off on me when I declined to keep training. Then the whole fight about the war being over or not.” The Ford peered up at his sib, continuing quietly. “Any time I shuttered my optics I saw- Taking stimulants let me stay up for weeks on end. Eventually I hit 12 in an orn…”
That drew a startled squawk from the elder brother. “Eight! Ten should kill you!”
“I wouldn’t have cared. If I could have just initiated a cascade failure…”
Ironhide dropped to a knee, grabbing ivory shoulders and shaking, hard. “Heatseek.”
The Ford tried to slap massive gray hands from his plating. “I was at the end of my cord. The only ones I really knew were you and your comrades. Doesn’t really leave many to go to.”
“Anyone would have been fine!”
“I know, I know, so Ratchet told me, too.”
The black mech made a confused buzz there, plopping back onto his haunches. “What?”
A dismissive wave. “Nevermind. I was out away from the base, sulking or whatever. And Dissever stumbled on me. There was a bit of a standoff, but we got to talking. He didn’t know the history, and he listened to me.” He overrode Ironhide’s protest. “I’d been among the ‘Cons long enough to not mind the red and purple. He didn’t care about the black ops.”
The weapons specialist stared while his sparksibling huffed and flicked his optics to red and back, something most mechs needed a long rewiring process to accomplish. It was a mark of Heatseek being an assassin and needing the ability to ‘shift allegiances’ at a moment’s notice. ‘Hide growled, glaring at ‘Seek while he gazed placidly back.
“Ironhide, he listened and grounded me. I can recharge, some. He brought me back to my core programming, to a place where I can stand myself. It was what I needed, a friendly audio between two mechs that are awkward fits for their place.” The Ford stood, rolling his shoulders in a habitual motion that the both of them shared. He lifted his helm, optics seeing past the horizon.
“So he’s a-”
“A friend. A mech I care for. Someone I’d really rather you not slag for old history and being generally annoying when he wants to be.”
“Fine,” ‘Hide groused as he stood. “Fine. But he can be slagged for new history.”
“Bastard.”
“And the elder brother,” he replied, affection buried beneath the growl. The TopKick turned, shifted down and drove off, leaving Heatseek alone and looking at the bright orb sitting on the horizon.
“Well,” ‘Seek murmured, watching his sparksib drive off with a faint smile. “I trust him not to end up in your crosshairs.”
ahh, brotherly love.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What the frag do you see in him?"
"Ironhide, I swear to Primus, I- ...fine." Pale blue optics flared in exasperation. "Not here." The white mech made a pointed toss of his helm towards the door, turned and slipped off.
The weapons specialist grunted, annoyed and worried, before he followed.
The two brothers both moved down the halls with a silence and stealth that belied their own bulk and plating colors, unmolested by the rest of the base. Soon enough outside, Heatseek drank in the sun then folded down and tore off. Ironhide blinked and followed suit.
While the two very different pickups roared through the terrain, it almost could have looked like a playful race. It even approached it, but the brothers had never had that type of relationship, and building it this late in the game was awkward at best. Still, 'Seek rumbled agreeably when his older sparksib attempted a challenging surge forward. He even played along enough to swing suddenly towards the black TopKick, who jigged aside before the Ford connected to plating.
But it was like reading a script for someone else, their sparks weren't in it. Soon enough they settled back to simply driving across the landscape.
For a moment the Ford realized he was heading towards a very secluded grove, a place he tended to feel safe and comfortable. Not there. That was special, and for him and... alone. He veered off and went to a rocky overhang up in the mountains. He slowed, sensing his brother do the same beside him and stopped. Rising out to his bipedal mode, he looked out across the view. Ironhide transformed beside him and growled, pulling 'Seek back to the present and their conversation.
'Seek sighed and gracefully settled to the ground, neatly folding his legs under him.
'Hide remained standing, and crossed his arms. He stood over the sleeker pickup and growled a wordless query.
Thin white finials twitched downwards, core programming making a decent facsimile of a nervous dog instinctively pulling his ears back. Primus damned spawn of a glitch, always dominant in everything... Heatseek thought, not without a hint of derision.
"He'd been the one slinking around the edges of our detection grids, bothering the patrols-"
"Excellent first impression," the TopKick cut in with a snarl.
"Do you want to hear this or not, Ironhide?" the white mech snapped.
He seethed quietly.
"Fine," Heatseek continued. "So he was around. And I... I wasn't in a good place when I met him."
"You weren't in a good place when you made planetfall..." Ironhide replied, some of the gruffness gone from his voice.
"It got worse, alright? We were fighting. As the mechs found out about me I had to defend what the frag a pacifist was about being an assassin in black ops. Pheh... even Jazz, who's got a fair amount of energon on his plating calling me a murderer." The younger mech hunched in at the thought. “And I know, I know. He just pokes buttons, but…”
“Heatseek,” ‘Hide groused with a churl, “we’ve all had to-”
“You fragging enjoy it.”
The weapons specialist shrugged. His brother sighed and turned to look out towards the setting sun, Ironhide rumbled softly and followed his gaze. They remained in a tense silence for a long few minutes.
Suddenly ‘Seek broke the quiet, and the TopKick practically jumped. “It was after we had that big blow up, you’d gone off on me when I declined to keep training. Then the whole fight about the war being over or not.” The Ford peered up at his sib, continuing quietly. “Any time I shuttered my optics I saw- Taking stimulants let me stay up for weeks on end. Eventually I hit 12 in an orn…”
That drew a startled squawk from the elder brother. “Eight! Ten should kill you!”
“I wouldn’t have cared. If I could have just initiated a cascade failure…”
Ironhide dropped to a knee, grabbing ivory shoulders and shaking, hard. “Heatseek.”
The Ford tried to slap massive gray hands from his plating. “I was at the end of my cord. The only ones I really knew were you and your comrades. Doesn’t really leave many to go to.”
“Anyone would have been fine!”
“I know, I know, so Ratchet told me, too.”
The black mech made a confused buzz there, plopping back onto his haunches. “What?”
A dismissive wave. “Nevermind. I was out away from the base, sulking or whatever. And Dissever stumbled on me. There was a bit of a standoff, but we got to talking. He didn’t know the history, and he listened to me.” He overrode Ironhide’s protest. “I’d been among the ‘Cons long enough to not mind the red and purple. He didn’t care about the black ops.”
The weapons specialist stared while his sparksibling huffed and flicked his optics to red and back, something most mechs needed a long rewiring process to accomplish. It was a mark of Heatseek being an assassin and needing the ability to ‘shift allegiances’ at a moment’s notice. ‘Hide growled, glaring at ‘Seek while he gazed placidly back.
“Ironhide, he listened and grounded me. I can recharge, some. He brought me back to my core programming, to a place where I can stand myself. It was what I needed, a friendly audio between two mechs that are awkward fits for their place.” The Ford stood, rolling his shoulders in a habitual motion that the both of them shared. He lifted his helm, optics seeing past the horizon.
“So he’s a-”
“A friend. A mech I care for. Someone I’d really rather you not slag for old history and being generally annoying when he wants to be.”
“Fine,” ‘Hide groused as he stood. “Fine. But he can be slagged for new history.”
“Bastard.”
“And the elder brother,” he replied, affection buried beneath the growl. The TopKick turned, shifted down and drove off, leaving Heatseek alone and looking at the bright orb sitting on the horizon.
“Well,” ‘Seek murmured, watching his sparksib drive off with a faint smile. “I trust him not to end up in your crosshairs.”
