'I Don't Know Why Sometimes I Get Frightened'
Aha! Inspiration, I found it! Only a short one, but I wrote something :) Now, to actually get into the headspace of Decepticons...I'm afraid I just not nasty enough for it :/
Title: In Time
Characters/Pairings: Omega Supreme, mentions of Constructicons and Megatron
Verse: When do I ever write anything but G1?
Rating: PG for pretentious git
Warnings: Some tense confusion at one point, my apparent obsession with time/Time, and everything that happened between Omega Supreme and the Constructicons. In other words, nothing of great import.
Summary: Time is a funny thing. It giveth, and it taketh away. Omega Supreme knows this only too well.
He hasn’t been happy for a very long time. Sometimes, he thinks he has forgotten how to be - that’s how long ‘a very long time’ really is. He doesn’t measure it by his chronometer, because his time isn’t a physical thing. It’s metaphorical, spiritual, non-existent - and it is wearing him away inside, more surely than water can lay low even the mightiest of rocks, given enough time.
Time - such an abstract, insubstantial concept, and yet it rules over them all. Life, death, undeath, unlife, non-life, the waiting times - because really, what is life, if not waiting? He doesn’t know, because it seems that is all he is doing these days. Waiting to be happy again. Waiting to just feel again - something, anything. What he wouldn’t give to hurt, just so he was sure he hadn’t sunk so deep into this non-life that he couldn’t (or wouldn’t) come back.
Then he is ordered to Earth, and something changes. Something thaws, something that hasn’t been completely worn away by the passage of the eons, and he feels again. He thinks it might be hate, but it is rusty and distant, and he cannot be sure. But it flares up every time he sees them - traitors, friends, fondest enemies - and sometimes he thinks it is love.
Crystal City was great, for that was how they had made it. All six of them - one who strove to achieve artistic value in all he created; one for whom all must be perfect, down to the most forgotten of details; one who was far from sane, but far more than simple genius; one who was chaos personified; one for whom all seemed to be a struggle but never truly was; and one for whom recognition was the greatest reward of all - working together as it seemed they always had and always must. Beauty followed them, or they left it in their wake. His memory was hazy, and he couldn’t quite make the distinction.
Crystal City was great, but no more. They made it that way, laying low the greatest of their creations, far more quickly than water or time might have eventually managed to erode its beauty. They destroyed it, at the behest of the destroyer-conqueror - deception given mechanoid form, promising a new age of prosperity and renown for all who would follow him (and still he has not delivered; and are they still happy with him even now?) and swift justice upon those who would not.
Time had almost completely eroded away the pain, along with everything else he might have felt, and then he was ordered to Earth - now he is ordered to Earth. Time still passes him by, but it is no quicker now than it is for every other he works with here. He does not know about those he fights against; he does not want to know, because then he would have to think about them, and now he is certain that would hurt far, far too much.
He thinks it might be a curse, now that Time has paused for him again and he can feel once more. He still isn’t happy - doesn’t think he ever will be again, and doubts he’ll even manage content after everything that has happened - but sometimes (only sometimes) that doesn’t seem so important. He has a purpose once more, and there are moments - tiny flashes, really - where it seems like the war might finally be winding down.
He doesn’t hope, mostly because he has forgotten how to. He has no aspirations for after, but then he was never designed to need an after. But he thinks he might be able to settle for peace, given enough time. And one thing that he has never lacked for is an abundance of time. It might be a curse, but he thinks it is one he can live with.
Title: In Time
Characters/Pairings: Omega Supreme, mentions of Constructicons and Megatron
Verse: When do I ever write anything but G1?
Rating: PG for pretentious git
Warnings: Some tense confusion at one point, my apparent obsession with time/Time, and everything that happened between Omega Supreme and the Constructicons. In other words, nothing of great import.
Summary: Time is a funny thing. It giveth, and it taketh away. Omega Supreme knows this only too well.
He hasn’t been happy for a very long time. Sometimes, he thinks he has forgotten how to be - that’s how long ‘a very long time’ really is. He doesn’t measure it by his chronometer, because his time isn’t a physical thing. It’s metaphorical, spiritual, non-existent - and it is wearing him away inside, more surely than water can lay low even the mightiest of rocks, given enough time.
Time - such an abstract, insubstantial concept, and yet it rules over them all. Life, death, undeath, unlife, non-life, the waiting times - because really, what is life, if not waiting? He doesn’t know, because it seems that is all he is doing these days. Waiting to be happy again. Waiting to just feel again - something, anything. What he wouldn’t give to hurt, just so he was sure he hadn’t sunk so deep into this non-life that he couldn’t (or wouldn’t) come back.
Then he is ordered to Earth, and something changes. Something thaws, something that hasn’t been completely worn away by the passage of the eons, and he feels again. He thinks it might be hate, but it is rusty and distant, and he cannot be sure. But it flares up every time he sees them - traitors, friends, fondest enemies - and sometimes he thinks it is love.
Crystal City was great, for that was how they had made it. All six of them - one who strove to achieve artistic value in all he created; one for whom all must be perfect, down to the most forgotten of details; one who was far from sane, but far more than simple genius; one who was chaos personified; one for whom all seemed to be a struggle but never truly was; and one for whom recognition was the greatest reward of all - working together as it seemed they always had and always must. Beauty followed them, or they left it in their wake. His memory was hazy, and he couldn’t quite make the distinction.
Crystal City was great, but no more. They made it that way, laying low the greatest of their creations, far more quickly than water or time might have eventually managed to erode its beauty. They destroyed it, at the behest of the destroyer-conqueror - deception given mechanoid form, promising a new age of prosperity and renown for all who would follow him (and still he has not delivered; and are they still happy with him even now?) and swift justice upon those who would not.
Time had almost completely eroded away the pain, along with everything else he might have felt, and then he was ordered to Earth - now he is ordered to Earth. Time still passes him by, but it is no quicker now than it is for every other he works with here. He does not know about those he fights against; he does not want to know, because then he would have to think about them, and now he is certain that would hurt far, far too much.
He thinks it might be a curse, now that Time has paused for him again and he can feel once more. He still isn’t happy - doesn’t think he ever will be again, and doubts he’ll even manage content after everything that has happened - but sometimes (only sometimes) that doesn’t seem so important. He has a purpose once more, and there are moments - tiny flashes, really - where it seems like the war might finally be winding down.
He doesn’t hope, mostly because he has forgotten how to. He has no aspirations for after, but then he was never designed to need an after. But he thinks he might be able to settle for peace, given enough time. And one thing that he has never lacked for is an abundance of time. It might be a curse, but he thinks it is one he can live with.