#041 - Frustrated
FINALLY finished this one after starting it way back in June. Like most things I write, I'm not really sure I like the end =/
Frustrated
“Flyers understand each other.”
“Flyers stick together.”
“Flyers are loyal to each other.”
“Don’t trust Megatron. Do what he asks, but don’t trust him. He’d scrap you if he thought it would help him. Don’t trust him; he’s not a flyer.”
“Someday, we’ll show them. They’ll see.”
Waspinator had believed those things, because he needed something to believe in. Because he was easily influenced by almost any one who was a more dominating presence than he. Because they had made so much sense when Terrorsaur had spouted them time and again; the pterosaur had always been unwavering in his own beliefs, and that was something of a comfort for the flighty little insect.
Inferno didn’t understand them; they were concepts foreign to the beliefs he held, all of which were fueled by his delusions of true anthood. By all logic, he should have been able to comprehend. Loyalty to a group, understanding, camaraderie…But the ways in which they understood these things were distinctly different and neither of them could quite grasp what the other believed.
It was somewhat disheartening, on more level than one. Inferno didn’t understand why Waspinator always returned, no matter how many times he ran away when control slipped out of his grasp. And Inferno didn’t trust him to be loyal, because he did run away.
He tried to explain, but he didn’t have all the necessary words. He doubted it would have made a difference anyway; Inferno was so set in his ways, so caught up in his delusions.
And so life went on, routine as usual. Waspinator would say things without thinking. Inferno would wind up frustrated because he didn’t understand the wasp’s disjointed logic and rambling sentences. Then he would yell and flail and Waspinator would be upset and hurt and run away and Inferno would become even more aggravated and the cycle would just repeat itself over and over and over again until something would give way and everything would fall apart and it would probably be Waspinator because he always had that kind of luck, but--!
He would always come back, no matter how discouraging this life was, no matter how many times Inferno hurt his feelings, no matter how many times that little shred of common sense in the back of his processor whispered that he should get out while he was still in one piece.
He would always come back.
Flyers stuck together, after all.
Frustrated
“Flyers understand each other.”
“Flyers stick together.”
“Flyers are loyal to each other.”
“Don’t trust Megatron. Do what he asks, but don’t trust him. He’d scrap you if he thought it would help him. Don’t trust him; he’s not a flyer.”
“Someday, we’ll show them. They’ll see.”
Waspinator had believed those things, because he needed something to believe in. Because he was easily influenced by almost any one who was a more dominating presence than he. Because they had made so much sense when Terrorsaur had spouted them time and again; the pterosaur had always been unwavering in his own beliefs, and that was something of a comfort for the flighty little insect.
Inferno didn’t understand them; they were concepts foreign to the beliefs he held, all of which were fueled by his delusions of true anthood. By all logic, he should have been able to comprehend. Loyalty to a group, understanding, camaraderie…But the ways in which they understood these things were distinctly different and neither of them could quite grasp what the other believed.
It was somewhat disheartening, on more level than one. Inferno didn’t understand why Waspinator always returned, no matter how many times he ran away when control slipped out of his grasp. And Inferno didn’t trust him to be loyal, because he did run away.
He tried to explain, but he didn’t have all the necessary words. He doubted it would have made a difference anyway; Inferno was so set in his ways, so caught up in his delusions.
And so life went on, routine as usual. Waspinator would say things without thinking. Inferno would wind up frustrated because he didn’t understand the wasp’s disjointed logic and rambling sentences. Then he would yell and flail and Waspinator would be upset and hurt and run away and Inferno would become even more aggravated and the cycle would just repeat itself over and over and over again until something would give way and everything would fall apart and it would probably be Waspinator because he always had that kind of luck, but--!
He would always come back, no matter how discouraging this life was, no matter how many times Inferno hurt his feelings, no matter how many times that little shred of common sense in the back of his processor whispered that he should get out while he was still in one piece.
He would always come back.
Flyers stuck together, after all.