[Open] Always a loner
Characters: Perceptor
Content: Not one for crowds, Perceptor decides to do some scouting of his own and try and get a grasp on his current situation.
Location: Near the current Autobot Base.
Time of day: Late afternoon
Warnings: None
Status: Active
( Sometimes it just wasn't easy to be around a large group. )
Content: Not one for crowds, Perceptor decides to do some scouting of his own and try and get a grasp on his current situation.
Location: Near the current Autobot Base.
Time of day: Late afternoon
Warnings: None
Status: Active
( Sometimes it just wasn't easy to be around a large group. )
He was on a mission of penance, of redemption, choosing missions that no one else would because they needed to be done. Because he needed the challenge. Because no one else should have to risk themselves like he did. He'd run alone for so long, first as Deadlock, and now as Drift, that his current predicament was... frustrating.
He was well accustomed to solitude, to the peace of being alone. Loneliness, however, the pain of being alone, was a very new thing indeed. When had he come to care so much for the Wreckers? When had he come to depend upon their mere presence?
He missed, in particular, the quiet shadow that had taken to backing him up from afar. He hissed the comfort and trust of knowing that someone had his back, and, pleasant as these strange Autobots that he'd fallen in with were, they... were not Wreckers. The did not understand.
He'd followed Rodimus Prime and his group almost all the way to the supposed Autobot Base, but once it had been in sight, he'd broken off, reticent to intrude. That was a lie. More truthful to say that he was dreading entering and not finding the others. The Wreckers. Instead, claiming a desire to scout for trouble, he'd faded off into the shadows and circumnavigated the base, sensors straining for familiar spark signatures.
Nothing.
Nothing, except a familiar silhouette rising from the roof of a building some distance ahead.
"Perceptor?" he murmured, hope kindling. He picked out the shape of the rifle as the mech turned and started heading out of sight again. A rather familiar grin now upon his features, Drift's pace picked up until he was sprinting for that building.
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Very familiar.
Perceptor's optics flickered in surprise and he glanced over his shoulder then partially turned, his rifle lowering. He didn't see anything right away but the signature was growing closer which meant the other had spotted him as well and he felt his lip components twitch a bit as everything clicked into place.
Drift.
The sniper stayed where he was, kneeling down again just in case any Decepticons happened to wander through, rifle propped up as he leaned his shoulder against it a bit. Then, on a whim, he opened up the Wrecker-only frequency that they had all been given, head tilting just a touch.
//And here I thought I was the only one here.\\
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Right on cue, that certain spark signature edged into sensor range and lit up, confirming that his processor wasn't playing tricks on him. Not that he had doubted himself, but there was something so comforting about having at least one familiar thing amidst all this oddity that was masquerading as Cybertron.
A startled Cyberfox skittered across his path as he lightly dashed by, that cocky grin quite firmly in place as he made the jump and neatly scaled the side of the building. Catlike, he paused at the top for a moment to just peek over the edge, the points of his helm emerging like little sharkticon fins until his blue optics cleared the edge and latched onto Perceptor as a lodestone is drawn to iron. Grinning like a fiend, he heaved himself up in a graceful flip, landing lightly on his pedes not more than a dozen paces from the sniper.
"Of course, that just begs the question: what, exactly, is 'here', anyway?" Still grinning, he rose from his crouch, a thin sigh of relief escaping him. "Its good to see a familiar face."
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"It is Cybertron, that much is quite obvious, but it seems to be a meeting ground for bots from various universes," he replied in a nonchalant manner, as if it was something that happened often. Lip components twitched into a slight grin of his own as he nodded to Drift, his own relief apparent in the way he relaxed a bit.
"Indeed it is. While I have come across many other Autobots, nothing can quite compare to having one you are truly familiar with about." And the fact that it was Drift made it all the more comforting in a way, though Perceptor would probably never admit it outloud. "You have not run into any trouble I hope?"
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He mostly managed to stifle the chuckle that rose in his vocal processor, shaking his head as he looked the sniper over as well. The image of that gaping wound in Perceptor's chest still haunted him sometimes, though he didn't really understand why. Not even so much as an out of place scuff, though, met his optical scan; the faint traces of tension melted away as he faced Perceptor and resisted the impulse to pull the Wrecker into a greeting hug.
"I'd actually suspected as much, given the mechs I'd run into. When both a Hot Rod and a Rodimus Prime - who claimed to have once been Hot Rod - popped up, I had my suspicions."
"The weird little Ravage just cinched it, though, and he was about as close to any trouble that I ran into, and he wasn't any at all, since he's apparently from some weird reality where Decepticons are the good guys and Autobots are the evil monsters."
"Oh, and there was a rather large quadruped Autobot named Slag. Nasty temper on him. Easy to outwit and outrun, though," Drift added with a shrug.
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"Rodimus Prime?" he echoed, staring at his companion as if he had grown another head. "A version of Hot Rod that became Prime." That notion in itself was almost terrifying in a way, though perhaps the two versions of Hot Rod were different. After all, the version he was acquainted with was...Moving on.
Shaking his head Perceptor tucked that little piece of information aside, reminding himself to question his alternate self about it later. He listened as Drift continued, optic ridge staying arched as he mention the Ravage from the world where Autobots were the bad guys, the ex-scientist curious to meet this being now.
"Quadruped Autob--Ah, the Dinobots," he murmured with a slight nod and a slight roll of his optics. "I have heard they are quite interesting. I am glad he did not damage you at all though." That notion in itself, considering the stories he had heard of the infamous Dinobots, almost had him shuddering. Shifting a bit Perceptor did another scan of the surrounding area before swinging his gun around to attach it to his back then focusing on Drift again. "The Hot Rod you came across, was he ours? From our universe I mean," he inquired. "I crossed paths with Mirage but outside of our brief meeting, I have not seen any others until you."
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"Dinobots? Huh. No, no damages, but if I would have been a little slower, I probably would have ended up pretty flat," Drift explained. "An Optimus Prime showed up at about the same time and place, and Slag seemed pretty unimpressed with him. Then he took pretty severe exception to my attempt to defuse the situation." Turning to glance out over the city, Drift mused, "He's probably still out there trying to carve out his own little corner of territory and charging anyone who comes near. I lost him when I was sure everyone else would be safe. Hopefully he'll be cooled off a bit later, and we can track him down and try to talk sense into him." Assuming he'd accept sense, that is. He'd seemed a bit... dim.
Drift followed the motion of the rifle before turning his attention back to Perceptor's face. Nodding, he offered, "Yeah, he's ours. Which really made the whole Rodimus Prime thing just that much more surreal."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "If so many different realities are going to start being represented here, we might have to develop a secret handshake or something to tell us all apart."
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