The beasts of war feed only on the meats of war [SEMI-OPEN, IN-PROGRESS...]
WHO: Starscream, People listed here, civvies!
WHAT: Starscream tries to take over the world! He fails. ... yep.
WHEN: Noon on the 2nd of August.
WHERE: THE EMPIRE STATE BUILDING
WARNINGS: Violence, character death, robots.
NOTES: here is a rough outline of how shit is going down. HERE IS AN EVEN SHORTER VERSION.Also tag your own selves in kthx ( Read more... )
WHAT: Starscream tries to take over the world! He fails. ... yep.
WHEN: Noon on the 2nd of August.
WHERE: THE EMPIRE STATE BUILDING
WARNINGS: Violence, character death, robots.
NOTES: here is a rough outline of how shit is going down. HERE IS AN EVEN SHORTER VERSION.Also tag your own selves in kthx ( Read more... )
He fell from about three feet off the roof, landing hard in amongst a swirl of black, wispy smoke from the after-effects of Raven's teleporting. The plan was simple: she dropped him off, and then hovered nearby, on the roof of a building about six blocks away, ready to swoop in and snatch him back out if...
If.
If his friend didn't listen. If his friend turned on him again. If the simpatico that they shared went sour. If this was, once again, the action that precipitated a break, like last year. ...Right around this time, if he thought about it. Damn it, Starscream, you smegging gimboid, you goit, you...you idiot! Just when you'd start to get somewhere, you'd go and blow it like this...!
And that was why they were friends, because that was Rimmer's life as well. One step forward, two steps back, with one major exception. That major exception was currently pacing back and forth about six blocks away, focusing her empathy full-blast on her husband's emotions to rescue him if need be.
Crawling up one of those weirdly alien joints of metal, Rimmer was hunting for his friend, looking for the one hint as to where his friend was. Those spiral staircases probably were a good starting place. His invulnerable feet clanging against the metal, Rimmer climbed, becoming more and more nervous - and heartbroken - as he went.
"STARSCREAM! You arsehole, where are you? STARSCREAM!"
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Oh, frag my life.
The one person he didn't want to see here. Great. he'd hoped, prayed that Rimmer's cowardice would have kept him home. Home and safe.
"Shockwave, Dr. Horrible; continue the spool-up sequence. I have... business to attend to.
He followed the sound of his friend's voice. Already, a wind had begun to blow, bringing with it a promise of a storm.
This was familiar... Familiar and not. He was not as he had been that day. But nothing would change the outcome.
Two drones were coming up behind Rimmer on the stair as Starscream walked down to meet him.
"Stand down," he said, and the two turned around and left.
He stood in silence for a few moments, his cape blowing in the wind. For once, he did not look arrogant, or triumphant. Terrifying, perhaps - his eyes were now that same total red they'd been that night - but not gleeful or cruel.
Mostly, he just looked sad.
"Go home, Arnold," he said softly.
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"My god," he whispered, fighting down the urge to either vomit or run. But they had been friends for too long, and this was something he had to...fix? Change? Something. He owed it to his friend to at least try.
Right?
"What the hell have you done?" he said in a louder voice. It wasn't much louder, though.
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He shook his head.
"You wouldn't understand. Well, perhaps part of it. You'd understand, at least, being a failure all of your life, and for once, for once trying to live up to the expectations of your manufa- forefathers."
He sighed. "But you wouldn't understand the expectations I must live up to. I don't..."
He shook his head again, like trying to clear something out of it.
"You should leave, Rimmer! Just go. Please."
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"No," was the answer, swallowed back against a tight throat. He finally managed to get his feet to work again and started walking forward once more.
"Stop this, Starscream. Stop this now. This world isn't yours for the taking, and you smegging well know it."
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"I can't stop. This world is mine for the taking. Did you know, Rimmer, that Skyfire and I discovered it?"
He folded his arms and looked out over the city, at the chaos below as his troops subdued yet more civilians.
"Nine million years ago, Skyfire had found a new world. He begged me to go see it, and I... I said no. I told him, it would be far too dangerous; but eventually I acquiesced. He was..."
He sighed. "You know what he was to me."
"We came here, to this sleepy world, and discovered vast quantities of energon, rich mineral deposits. The more I saw, the more excited I was, the happier I was that I'd let Sky convince me to see it. And we talked, you know. We were going to go to the council, get mining rights, found cities. We would have set up a colony here; and he and I would have been famous across Cybertron for our discovery."
"And then this world took Skyfire from me, and Cybertron was torn by war, and I became what you see today."
He waved a dismissive hand. "But that's all in the past now. Now, here, this world, which is mine by right, will be mine once again; and on it I will forge a new Cybertron! From the ashes she will rise, I will fulfill my Decepticon programming for conquest, and I will build a better world than any of you could possibly imagine! Mine, my perfect empire..."
"It is mine for the taking. And, Arnold, what would you do to stop me? What can you do? Will you fight me? I would rather you did not," he said, his voice as soft as he could make it. "I have no wish to fight you. I have no wish to hurt you. Even though I know by my actions I already am, I would do you no further harm."
He finally turned back to face his friend.
"Please. I ask you one last time - leave."
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"No," he said again, standing his ground. "I won't leave. I won't fight you, either, but I'm not leaving. I...I liked Skyfire, I did. And he wanted me to look after you. And I let him down a lot, I think. But damn it, this time I won't."
He clenched his hands into fists at his side, trying to remember everything Raven had taught him about remaining calm. Finding the centre, keeping everything in balance, going on in spite of the fear...
"You know he wouldn't approve of this. You know he'd stand up to you as well. Just because you discovered it doesn't make it yours. You have no right to do this. No right..."
There was a scuttling out of the corner of his eye, and he saw one of those drones sneaking up again, behind one of those purple crystals. There was a mild flash of energy...and his light bee stuttered. He flickered in and out of hard light, wincing with the feedback that echoed through his head. Oh, smeg...
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He clenched his fists, his eyes flashing brightly.
"I know! I know he would, I know that he'd probably pick me up and throw me off this building! But he's gone now, and I can't - "
He whipped around as the drone shot at Rimmer, his face contorted with rage.
"I. SAID. STAND. DOWN!," he snarled, blasting the errant drone's head off. "TRANSMIT THAT TO YOUR BROTHERS, YOU IGNORANT PIECE OF SCRAP."
Turning back to Rimmer, he narrowed his eyes.
"I... appreciate your concern. But I will not stray from this course. I will not compromise, I will not turn back. I am going back up these stairs. You could follow me, but I would advise against it. I am... I am sorry."
He was, genuinely. For Rimmer, at least. The rest of the Earth could burn for all he cared. He turned on his heel and started back up the stairs.
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"No," he said more quietly, not letting go. "Aren't you tired of it? Don't you want to find some...some other goal? I did. I did it, I found something else other than the Space Corps and now I'm happy. Please, Starscream, please don't. Those bastards in spandex will stop you, those...those morally self-righteous smegheads! They'll kill you! Please, stop this now, while you're still alive. I'll...I'll help you find something else, something to really work for...something you can value aside from taking over the smegging world..."
He trailed off, practically seeing the words bouncing off that metal hide, seeing that he might as well be talking to a toaster oven for all the good it would do in the end. And his face twisted with grief and more frustration.
"You said once I was the first friend you ever had. Was that true? Or was that just so much bullshit to manipulate me?"
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What else is there? A slow, easy life where I grow old and rust and die - or, in my case, live forever? I would rather flare and gutter like a dying star. I would rather make a mark...
He hardened his spark, fell back into his old rhythms. Acceptable losses. Acceptable risk. Come now, put that cocky swagger back in your step...
But the last question gave him pause.
"The second. Technically. The second. That's what I said," he said. He thought. Maybe he'd misspoken. Rimmer was the second, though. The first, well, the first he'd fallen in love with. A mistake, perhaps. "But the first friend I had in this City, to be sure."
He shook his head, turning back slightly. "It was no lie. What would I have to gain from you? At least, here and now."
It was vicious, what he was saying, but in some ways it was a compliment. He meant it as one, anyway, and it was true. "There's nothing I can use you for! You don't have anything I want, not anymore, you don't give me any resources I need and you aren't in a position I covet. Yet I still enjoy your company, I still prefer your presence to the presence of others despite you giving me no logical advantage over anyone else. Which means that I must like you. You don't serve any purpose, yet I keep you in my sphere of influence."
He made a sort of clicking sound as he continued to climb the stairs.
"And yet I would still try to protect you! Even attempt to uplift you, even though logic states that you are dead weight."
He stopped, his shoulders slumping. What made him say it, what made him be honest, he did not know.
Perhaps it was that he knew Rimmer was right. Perhaps he could sense it, somehow. He'd failed so many times. Why wouldn't today be any different? Yet the play went on, and there was no turning back from what he'd done.
"But there it is. Indeed, I almost feel sorry for you. To be called the friend of a Seeker, oh, that's a dire thing indeed. Dangerous. No place for a human. Or a hologram. How would you humans put it? Like a rabbit befriending some vast, predatory bird. Oh, we'll protect you from foxes and cats, perhaps; but the fact remains that you're friends with a weapon. And you can't change instinct..."
He waved a hand. "This is over. Finished."
And then a pause.
"But it is true. You were, and will always remain, my friend. And I am very sorry for that fact."
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He was panting with the effort of staying this close to so much energy in the air, seemingly keeping his hard light drive going by sheer force of will. He couldn't sweat, but he was gritting his teeth, making the muscles along the side of his face knot up in tense little clusters.
"I would help you too, you know. Even though you've betrayed me before, even though you treat me like something scraped off your heel after a walk in a dog park. I'm trying to help you now! Fine, I'm dead weight. No change there, that's my life. But I'm trying not to be. And this if this is the most heroic thing I ever do in my life, then it'll be worth it!"
Another distant zap, and he stumbled backwards a bit, clutching at his chest. God, that hurt. Fucking alien energon smeg. Or maybe it was affecting him worse than it normally would because he'd had energon used in his light bee earlier this month...?
"It's not over. I'm not giving up. For the first time in my rotten life, I'm not giving up. And if you're going to force me to play the hero, then damn it, shut up and let me...rescue you. From yourself. You smeghead."
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Thoughtful, almost.
Rimmer was clearly not going to stop. Not unless he got himself killed, or disabled.
Well, then.
He stepped down, and, very gently, took Rimmer by the shoulders, before meeting his friend's eyes.
"I must say, I... appreciate that. The idea that you would play hero for me. It's quite flattering, really. And it is admirable for you to try."
"There is, however, one problem. I am not," he had to smirk a little here, at the sheer absurdity of the statement, "the princess. I am the villain."
He leaned forward, almost as though he were going to kiss Rimmer on the cheek, and whispered.
"Goodnight, my friend."
It was a very light charge, all things considered - a faint pulse from his own null-lasers, enough to shut off a desktop computer, perhaps. Calculated very carefully, of course. Hopefully, it would be enough combined with the ambient crackle of energon radiation to force Rimmer into a stasis lock. Not to kill him - oh, Primus, no - just a little unconsciousness. And hopefully no permanent damage.
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The second that null-pulse hit him, Rimmer's eyes went wide with betrayal, and pain, and regret. He had enough time to mouth a few words -
"...Oh, you bastard!"
- and then his hard light drive gave up the ghost. It was a hard reboot of his light bee, his emotions winking out like a twinkly Christmas light. And in the instant between him shutting down and his light bee dropping toward the ground, there was a puff of black smoke, and a delicate hand snaking out to catch him.
Pff. Gone. The black smoke gradually dissipated, signaling that Raven wasn't waiting around to see what else would happen. She was taking her husband, or what was left of him, home.
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He stood for a few long moments, looking in the space where his friend had once been.
Most Cybertronians cannot cry. It is not a way in which they express sorrow - a useless waste of fluid. Oh, a few Autobots had the capability, something their brethren always found strange, but Decepticons never could. Starscream was no exception to this.
He did, however, sit down on the stair, and put his head in his hands for a few moments.
No. What you are is a Decepticon. What you are is a weapon. And nothing - friendship, brotherhood, nothing - can stand in your way.
Standing slowly, he began to ascend the staircase.
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