Lost [CLOSED] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rt_av_wIkfc
Who: Starscream, Blitzwing.
What: Coming home... kind of.
Where: The Beach.
When: The 18th. Early afternoon
Something sharp was pressing into his ribs. He wrapped a hand around the glass shard and pulled. It slid from his slide and fell to the ground with a pleasant tink. Holding his hand up, the former Seeker stared numbly at the sticky substance that was smeared across his fingers. There was shattered glass everywhere. Lifting his head, he peered at the half-crumbled arch.
Did he fall? He wondered. No. Maybe not.
His mouth felt as though it had been coated in powder. Sticky and dry his tongue was a lump of sand making him want to gag. Amongst other things. Mostly intact. Struggling awkwardly to his feet, he made his way across the gauntlet of broken glass, gingerly trying to avoid cutting his bare feet, though some shards still scraped him anyway. The pain was a mild concern, but it was ignored and forgotten as soon as he reached the street. Wasn't there somewhere he had to be? He couldn't quite place his finger on it. But he knew the way.
It took a full day- a solar-cycle of aimless wandering, cutting himself on unseen shards of broken glass to find it. Exhaustion had long since set in.
The gate towered over him, staring up at it dully. There was no fear, no apprehension. But this was where he needed to go.
---
The gate took him back where he needed to go- but everything was chaotic. This wasn't where he wanted- there was a place. There was a space he needed to be so badly but he couldn't remember. When he tried to hard it hurt- but he tried anyway. He racked his brain.
Take me take me there I need to be there I need to b-
Falling. From a great height. One moment he had been on his feet and the next he had just...
Teleported into the sky.
It was the only natural fear humans were born with- the fear of falling, but aside from flailing at first, it was a welcome sensation. Falling- the air moving past his skin. Shouldn't he be made of something much tougher? He can't remember...
Hitting the water was another thing. It shocked him out of his trance. Slapping his body- it stung, knocked the air out of his lungs. Inhaling the liquid, he surfaced coughing and sputtering. Hands clawed to find purchase but he slipped under the waves again. Drowning. Fingers stretched for the surface as it slid further away.
---
When he woke again, he vomited. It was completely water and stomach acid, given, but no less unpleasant. His nostrils stung as he heaved the rest of the sea from his body, trembling with the effort of purging it. Shivering, the shore lapping at his legs, the man pulled himself to his quaking feet. Wrapping his arms around himself, he stumbled forward, dragging his toes through the wet sand. Turning back to look at the sea... the water was choppy and restless, muffled by an overcast sky. He turned and forced himself to stumble, bleeding and filthy down the shore.
He didn't know where he was.
He didn't know who he was.
There was some kind of destination in mind, but it completely escaped him.
What: Coming home... kind of.
Where: The Beach.
When: The 18th. Early afternoon
Something sharp was pressing into his ribs. He wrapped a hand around the glass shard and pulled. It slid from his slide and fell to the ground with a pleasant tink. Holding his hand up, the former Seeker stared numbly at the sticky substance that was smeared across his fingers. There was shattered glass everywhere. Lifting his head, he peered at the half-crumbled arch.
Did he fall? He wondered. No. Maybe not.
His mouth felt as though it had been coated in powder. Sticky and dry his tongue was a lump of sand making him want to gag. Amongst other things. Mostly intact. Struggling awkwardly to his feet, he made his way across the gauntlet of broken glass, gingerly trying to avoid cutting his bare feet, though some shards still scraped him anyway. The pain was a mild concern, but it was ignored and forgotten as soon as he reached the street. Wasn't there somewhere he had to be? He couldn't quite place his finger on it. But he knew the way.
It took a full day- a solar-cycle of aimless wandering, cutting himself on unseen shards of broken glass to find it. Exhaustion had long since set in.
The gate towered over him, staring up at it dully. There was no fear, no apprehension. But this was where he needed to go.
---
The gate took him back where he needed to go- but everything was chaotic. This wasn't where he wanted- there was a place. There was a space he needed to be so badly but he couldn't remember. When he tried to hard it hurt- but he tried anyway. He racked his brain.
Take me take me there I need to be there I need to b-
Falling. From a great height. One moment he had been on his feet and the next he had just...
Teleported into the sky.
It was the only natural fear humans were born with- the fear of falling, but aside from flailing at first, it was a welcome sensation. Falling- the air moving past his skin. Shouldn't he be made of something much tougher? He can't remember...
Hitting the water was another thing. It shocked him out of his trance. Slapping his body- it stung, knocked the air out of his lungs. Inhaling the liquid, he surfaced coughing and sputtering. Hands clawed to find purchase but he slipped under the waves again. Drowning. Fingers stretched for the surface as it slid further away.
---
When he woke again, he vomited. It was completely water and stomach acid, given, but no less unpleasant. His nostrils stung as he heaved the rest of the sea from his body, trembling with the effort of purging it. Shivering, the shore lapping at his legs, the man pulled himself to his quaking feet. Wrapping his arms around himself, he stumbled forward, dragging his toes through the wet sand. Turning back to look at the sea... the water was choppy and restless, muffled by an overcast sky. He turned and forced himself to stumble, bleeding and filthy down the shore.
He didn't know where he was.
He didn't know who he was.
There was some kind of destination in mind, but it completely escaped him.