Still you’re flying to fight the force of gravity [closed, in-progress]
Who: Starscream, Slipstream
What: Starscream BROOOOOOOODS. Slipstream kind of comforts. Probably shouting happens.
Where: Deceptibase. Which at this point is less a 'base' and more 'That place Starscream lives with Slipstream and maybe Terrorsaur'
When: Tuesday night?
He stood on the balcony, as he often did, hands on the railing.
The rain came down in sheets, in rivers. A truly scrappy day for flying. Buildings seemed to vanish into the clouds above, their presence belied only by the soft circles of glowing lights. Water slicked his hair down, ran across his face, collected at the tip of his nose.
He barely felt it. He turned down his various sensors on his skin and shuttered his optics, cycling air to keep his internal temperature regulated.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that the rain was liquid methane, that he was standing on Titan again, looking out across a hydrocarbon sea. Or that he was on Kaon, wondering why in the Pit Megatron was making him stand out in weather like this. Or that he was back in Crystal City, and that Skyf-
He slammed a fist down on the railing, then bit his lip at the pain. The skin broke from how hard he'd hit it, and he did not bleed.
"Hmph..."
He rubbed at it, absently, wondering how he'd come to this. He was losing Soundwave - no, he'd lost Soundwave. Any semblance of loyalty, any chance at reconciliation seemed completely gone. Shockwave... there was something, maybe. But in all honesty, his Decepticons were all betraying him.
He was, once again, alone.
Maybe it was better this way. If he couldn't build a world that already existed, he'd simply have to build a new one. Burn this one to the ground and begin again.
Maybe then he'd be loved at last.
What: Starscream BROOOOOOOODS. Slipstream kind of comforts. Probably shouting happens.
Where: Deceptibase. Which at this point is less a 'base' and more 'That place Starscream lives with Slipstream and maybe Terrorsaur'
When: Tuesday night?
He stood on the balcony, as he often did, hands on the railing.
The rain came down in sheets, in rivers. A truly scrappy day for flying. Buildings seemed to vanish into the clouds above, their presence belied only by the soft circles of glowing lights. Water slicked his hair down, ran across his face, collected at the tip of his nose.
He barely felt it. He turned down his various sensors on his skin and shuttered his optics, cycling air to keep his internal temperature regulated.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that the rain was liquid methane, that he was standing on Titan again, looking out across a hydrocarbon sea. Or that he was on Kaon, wondering why in the Pit Megatron was making him stand out in weather like this. Or that he was back in Crystal City, and that Skyf-
He slammed a fist down on the railing, then bit his lip at the pain. The skin broke from how hard he'd hit it, and he did not bleed.
"Hmph..."
He rubbed at it, absently, wondering how he'd come to this. He was losing Soundwave - no, he'd lost Soundwave. Any semblance of loyalty, any chance at reconciliation seemed completely gone. Shockwave... there was something, maybe. But in all honesty, his Decepticons were all betraying him.
He was, once again, alone.
Maybe it was better this way. If he couldn't build a world that already existed, he'd simply have to build a new one. Burn this one to the ground and begin again.
Maybe then he'd be loved at last.