non music inspired drabbles
Not many would have even guessed it, but Skywarp was lonely. His loud obnoxious persona and constant pranking were just a facade. Thundercracker just wished he knew how to help. The black and purple seeker seemed so determined to keep everyone at arms length. Whenever TC tried to get him to talk, Warp would just shrug it off and smile. A quick, 'I'm fine', and he'd be on his way.
Skywarp knew it hurt TC that he wouldn't let him close, but it just hurt too much, and even if the blue seeker didn't know it, his friendship meant the world to Warp. Some days it was all that kept him going.
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Starscream admired his older brother like no one else in the world. He wanted to be just like Skyfire when he grew up. So, it was no surprise to their creators when he followed his brother into a science career.
When he couldn't find Sky his world ended. Starscream's whole life had been centered on his brother, seeking his approval. He was devastated and lashed out at the first mechs who tried to pin the blame on him, the science counsel.
If he hadn't seen it with his own optics Skyfire would never have believed Starscream to be capable of the senseless murder of so many organics. It went against everything he'd ever taught his younger brother to believe in.
Starscream curled in a miserable ball; he'd never wanted Skyfire to see him like this. Even before finding out that Sky was alive, he'd known his brother would never condone what he'd done...
I'm so sorry....
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It was finally over. He stared out across the field, hearing the echoes of those who had died for the sake of that...travesty of living that they called war. It had started out simple enough, almost innocent; a way to make the world a better place, but had morphed into something ugly. He had changed along with it, so slowly that he hadn't even noticed until it was too late...'If only'...No, they were gone and nothing he could do would ever bring them back.
The sky was beautiful, the lone mech mused. They would have loved to be able to fly without the constant worry of being shot down.
He had played the 'unendingly loyal' 'con to perfection so well that he had began to fool himself. Sometimes the masks are as real as the faces behind them, and sometimes it's all too easy to loose sight of who you really are.