Well, I'll be damned, here comes your ghost again...
Who: "Cometfall" glassloyalist, Starscream Alpha (G1 Cartoon) fangirlbait
What: Starscream is constantly haunted by ghosts of a person who isn't here.
Where: In line to fill out the forms to get an exit visa.
Starscream shifted his weight, sighing as he leaned against one of the seperators in the queue. It was going to be a long wait, as usual. Fantastic.
Still, he wanted to try this route first. If he was lucky, he'd be out of here in a few weeks. No harm done, no problems, it happened all the time. None of this silliness of revolution that the one Megatron kept going on about.
... but something had started to bother him. A darkness, in his Ember. The TransTechs...
They had technology that made his own inventions look like the playthings of protoforms. They had wonders in their seamless fusion of organic and inorganic.
And they kept it from them.
He understood their concerns about keeping it out of the servos of individuals from dangerous timelines, he understood the implications but at the same time, it was maddening. So much knowledge, so much vision and it was out of his reach.
And Starscream has always wanted to know. Above all else he believed in the power fo knowledge, of scientific progress, of reason.
Then there was what he'd seen in the lower levels. Yes, they were guests... but they were guests treated with, at best, mild contempt. The lower levels were slums. No, it wasn't the TransTech's place to do anything about it but... it was opressive. It was wrong. If what he had been told was true and this universe just happened to lie on a fault line that caused people to fall through into it; if they were trying to rescue people from the oblivion between worlds, well, why treat them like scum? Why did the poor and destitute have to live like that?
It sickened him.
It sickened him and he started to wonder if that Megatron was right.
It sickened him that he started to think that Megatron might be right. It felt like a betrayal of his own Megatron.
No. No, he wouldn't go there.
He sighed, pulling out a large datapad and bringing up the book he'd been reading. Adjusting his optics, he flipped down the magnifiers hidden in his helmet. They almost looked like little reading glasses.
What: Starscream is constantly haunted by ghosts of a person who isn't here.
Where: In line to fill out the forms to get an exit visa.
Starscream shifted his weight, sighing as he leaned against one of the seperators in the queue. It was going to be a long wait, as usual. Fantastic.
Still, he wanted to try this route first. If he was lucky, he'd be out of here in a few weeks. No harm done, no problems, it happened all the time. None of this silliness of revolution that the one Megatron kept going on about.
... but something had started to bother him. A darkness, in his Ember. The TransTechs...
They had technology that made his own inventions look like the playthings of protoforms. They had wonders in their seamless fusion of organic and inorganic.
And they kept it from them.
He understood their concerns about keeping it out of the servos of individuals from dangerous timelines, he understood the implications but at the same time, it was maddening. So much knowledge, so much vision and it was out of his reach.
And Starscream has always wanted to know. Above all else he believed in the power fo knowledge, of scientific progress, of reason.
Then there was what he'd seen in the lower levels. Yes, they were guests... but they were guests treated with, at best, mild contempt. The lower levels were slums. No, it wasn't the TransTech's place to do anything about it but... it was opressive. It was wrong. If what he had been told was true and this universe just happened to lie on a fault line that caused people to fall through into it; if they were trying to rescue people from the oblivion between worlds, well, why treat them like scum? Why did the poor and destitute have to live like that?
It sickened him.
It sickened him and he started to wonder if that Megatron was right.
It sickened him that he started to think that Megatron might be right. It felt like a betrayal of his own Megatron.
No. No, he wouldn't go there.
He sighed, pulling out a large datapad and bringing up the book he'd been reading. Adjusting his optics, he flipped down the magnifiers hidden in his helmet. They almost looked like little reading glasses.