[[Open, video]]

[not_your_gun]

[The video cuts in suddenly, static-laced and foggy at the edges as steam rolls by. Its Magnum, the faintest hint of terror being tightly locked under a grim visage as he is thoroughly power-washed by drones in The Silver Bullet's locker rooms.]

Soundwave.[He isn't bothering to lock this--that would take too much time, and he fears he has none

Comments

[show_my_cannons]

Difficulties?

[Suddenly, someone doesn't particularly care if their resurrection is no longer a secret.]

[not_your_gun]

Go away, Ghost.

Please.

[show_my_cannons]

I would rather watch.

How does it feel, knowing what will happen, hmn?

[not_your_gun]

[You get a roar.]

Probably as wonderful as it feels to get your spark removed, hmm?

And you've survived.

Perfect.

[He laughs, a very not-well edge to the sound even over the rush of water.]

So Dirge can...

...so...Dirge...can.....

[His optics flicker.]

You're...really alive?

[show_my_cannons]

[He snorts - honestly, he'd rather not discus the spark-taking.]

I hope it does. I hope it causes you to suffer as I, and the little ones, did.

Dirge can perish. That is what he can do.

[Another snort.]

What do you think?

[not_your_gun]

You are alive.

That...is...

[He offers a final, weak growl.]

A pity. You should have heard them crying on the network for you...

[He laughs, softly.]

So it has come to this.

[show_my_cannons]

I refuse to blame them for having compassion.

[His engine growls. This is better than what Magnum deserves, as far as he's concerned.]

I hope you rust within your own processor, you scum. Rust... and never return.

[not_your_gun]

[He winces to those words...and curls up, sliding down the wall of the locker-room to stare blankly at the finished drones.]

I'm sorry. I won't bother you, I...promise.

[show_my_cannons]

[This shouldn't feel good. It shouldn't feel right to do this.]

Your crimes against my charges and my race bother me. Your very existence bothers me.

You will have to try harder to make amends for what you have done.

[not_your_gun]

I..I haven't!

I didn't know, I swear!

I...don't...even know how I managed it...

[He shakes his head, so unsure.]

What do you want me to do?

[show_my_cannons]

Oh yes. You have. You caused so much suffering, Decepticon. Those I care for were harmed because of you.

What do I want you do?

You can offline in the heap. Or by my hands. I want you to feel pain as my lieutenant did. As my charges and my Primes did.

[not_your_gun]

I...

I know.

I meant it...at the time. I...don't mean it, now.

[Both hands go to his helm, as if he can block this out.]

N...no! I'm...so, so sorry...

[show_my_cannons]

I do not care if you mean it now or not. Your current intent changes nothing. It does not repair the damage you did to what is mine.

Apologies change nothing either.

You need to suffer for your crimes.

[not_your_gun]

I will try...

I will...fix...things. Somehow.

Just...tell me what to do. I cannot...just die.

How would I live with myself, then?

[show_my_cannons]

Simple. If you die... you will not have to live with yourself at all.

[not_your_gun]

...you...really...think I deserve to die...that much?