Differentiation (Part 2)
Oct. 6th, 2009 12:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ante_luceTitle: Differentiation (Part 2)
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Characters: Smokescreen. Bluestreak. Hound. Jazz.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
He came online when someone carefully nudged him, stirring sluggishly. Bluestreak’s frame crouched beside him, though the young mech was likely still unaware of their situation. The other personality had been active ever since they’d escaped their first encounter with the Decepticons, and not once had he noted any sign of Bluestreak’s presence. The grey mech spoke.
“It has been a decabreem, as you requested. Do you need more time?”
Smokescreen paused to run a systems check, then shook his head. “No, self repair’s taken care of what it can.”
“I could locate a repair kit, and you could guide me.”
“Thanks, but field repairs aren’t going to cut it. My head’s a little fuzzy, must’ve gotten a chip knocked loose when I hit that wall. Gonna have to wait for a medic.”
“Can you travel?”
While the tactician had to admit that having the other persona dominant right now made things easier, his unrelenting efficiency left the Praxian a little cold. Everything he did was for a purpose. If he had nothing to tell the blue mech, he was silent. If he stopped, it was to rest or scavenge for supplies. Shuttering his optics, Smokescreen cycled air for a moment, then replied.
“… Yeah. I just need to reroute some data paths… Done. Let’s go.”
Bluestreak’s other personality nodded, and helped him stand. They had to keep moving, this was still too close to the ‘Cons they’d escaped for Smokescreen’s comfort. The deactivated frames scattered across the ground elicited no reaction, though Smokescreen took comfort in the fact that at least the other wasn’t callous enough to just step over the bodies of the fallen like he did miscellaneous rubble and debris. But eventually, the tactician had to comment.
“This doesn’t affect you? Not at all?”
The grey frame glanced back, then motioned for the diversionary mech to follow him into another building. As they progressed further into the structure, Smokescreen found himself growing more uneasy, finally reaching his breaking point and tugging on a grey arm to stop the other bot.
“Well?”
“If I moved them, even to arrange their bodies as they should be placed, someone will notice. At this moment, surviving is more important than mourning what I can do nothing about.” The quiet, logical tone had the tactician venting air in frustration.
“Frag, I know that. But this was your city too! Don’t you feel anything?”
The other personality looked at him, with the same kind of penetrating gaze as when he’d first revealed himself to the psychologist. “I am a fragment of a whole. My ability to process emotion is muted according to my intended purpose. Likewise, you may have noticed how Bluestreak seems to struggle with emotional control. Hence the importance of my rejoining his psyche.”
Then he turned around and started walking again. “There should be a room deeper within that we can use for concealment. The walls and debris will hopefully obscure our signatures from Decepticon notice.”
After a moment’s contemplation of the mech’s back, Smokescreen sighed and did the same.
= = =
The Ops mechs skirted the shadows, using every scan and sensor net they had to check their depths. Suddenly, they picked up a quiet hiss from a darkened corner. They locked onto the sound straight away, Jazz moving cautiously in its direction, weapon in hand, Hound covering his back, optics and scanners on their surroundings. When the black and white mech stopped where he’d calculated the noise was coming from, something shifted in the gloom. The visored mech’s blaster was immediately brought to bear on the figure, accompanied by a low murmur.
“You’d better be who we’re looking for.”
“I hope you’re the ones I want looking for me.”
Hound looked over his shoulder at the familiar voice. “… Smokey?”
“Took you lot long enough. Inside, quickly.” The tactician’s smile was relieved, though it faded rapidly when someone called to him.
“Smokescreen? Who’s with you?”
= = =
The new voice had the Ops mechs pointing their guns in its direction. A grey Praxian peered apprehensively back, and the tactician forcefully told his comrades to calm down before hurrying them all under cover once more, sensor panels practically vibrating with tension.
“It’s okay, Bluestreak. They’re Autobots, like me.”
“Oh. Did you see Prowl? I woke when you left and he wasn't here. He must have gone to scout around.”
“… Prowl joined us?” Mistaking Smokescreen’s wariness for confusion, Bluestreak explained, gesturing animatedly.
“He got us away from the ‘Cons and got us here. But you were probably still offline. That Decepticon really hurt you.”
“Right.” The tactician replied faintly, then lunged to catch hold of the grey mech as Bluestreak made to pass him. “Where are you going?”
“To look for Prowl.”
“Blue’, that’s not a good idea. The ‘Cons are looking for you.”
“Your friends are here, that means we’ll be going soon, and I won’t leave him behind again!”
Hound took over, patting a grey shoulder. “How ‘bout this? I’ll go with you, and if we don’t find him, we’ll figure out something then, alright?”
“… Alright.”
= = =
Once Hound and Bluestreak were out of sight, Jazz looked at Smokescreen, smiling faintly. “Well. Nice place you got here. Nearly gave Hound and me the glitches with all the interference it causes.”
“Thank you. Bluestreak suggested it.”
“Smart mech, hm? What’s the deal with him?” The saboteur’s tone had the diversionary mech sighing, then sinking tiredly to the ground.
“Where do I start?”
“You could tell me why are the ‘Cons after him in particular.”
The tactician snorted humourlessly, gesturing about him. “He’s a civilian. One who survived this.”
“Ouch. That’s really gotta hurt their egos.”
The Ops mech winced, and the blue mech grumbled softly in agreement. “Tell me about it. Then we escaped them when they had him pinned and me helpless.”
“Thought he said that was Prowl’s work.”
“About Prowl… He’s not real. Bluestreak only thinks he is.”
Jazz stared, then joined him on the ground, shaking his head ruefully. “… Wow. You really know how to find them, Smokes. You realise he’s got a big target painted on his back? ‘Cons are gonna want him gone. And if he’s glitched enough to be making up other bots in addition to that, the Autobots aren’t gonna want to take him in either.”
Smokescreen stared at his pedes for a long moment. “I know.”
= = =
The pair had returned, the tracker looking worried, the grey mech restless, constantly looking behind and around him. Jazz met them, the green bot’s expression prompting him to ask quietly. “Hound, what’s out there?”
“ ‘Cons. Between here and our exit. And my scans didn’t pick up anyone else.”
“You could have missed Prowl. He’s good at being quiet. We can’t leave him behind!”
“Calm down, we didn’t say anything about that. In any case, we’ve got two cycles before our ticket outta here lands, but we’ve got to get to the rendezvous point before that. Which means we can’t stay here and wait for him too long. Besides, this Prowl sounds like he can take care of himself, y’know?” The visored mech offered, tone reasonable, and Bluestreak faltered.
“But… Prowl… What if the ‘Cons have him? I need to go back and look some more!”
The grey Praxian would have bolted if Hound hadn’t tried to stop him, the green mech’s grab accidentally missing his arm and catching hold of a sensor panel instead. Bluestreak’s pained cry cut off half way, intakes hitching as he stopped short. The tracker immediately let go, murmuring apologetically, only to fall silent as the chevroned mech straightened, then stepped back, faceplates blank, stance wary.
“Bluestreak? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
The injured panel twitched, then shifted back and forth, as if to ease the pain, though the mech’s flat expression didn’t change. As Smokescreen buried his face in a palm, ‘Bluestreak’ spoke.
“I understand. However, we should be on our way. If there are Decepticons still present, our path will have to be more circumspect.”
Jazz and Hound stared at him, and then at Smokescreen. The blue mech shook his head. “Personality matrix split. I’ll explain later. But he’s right, we need to go now. With all the damage done to the infrastructure and ‘Cons running about, it’ll take us more time to get anywhere. Plus, I’ve been away for a while. I’m not going to be as much use as a guide as I’d like to be.”
“Right. Anyway, you’d still know this city better than us. What’s the best path to these coordinates?” The visored mech was the first to stir, drawing out a map from subspace. The tactician looked at it, then turned to the holographer.
“Hound, where did you say the ‘Cons were?”
A glowing overlay added itself to the diagram as Hound gestured at it. “They’re massed about here. There’re also groups wandering about. No set patrols though, I think they’re just looting and destroying things at random.”
“Frag. That means we’ll have no patterns to take advantage of.”
“Perhaps I might be able to help. Bluestreak is also an inhabitant of Praxus, and a more recent one at that.” The three Autobots turned to the grey mech, who glanced at their map, and then at them, gaze lingering for a brief, barely discernible moment on Smokescreen.
“As such, this is my city too.”
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Characters: Smokescreen. Bluestreak. Hound. Jazz.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
He came online when someone carefully nudged him, stirring sluggishly. Bluestreak’s frame crouched beside him, though the young mech was likely still unaware of their situation. The other personality had been active ever since they’d escaped their first encounter with the Decepticons, and not once had he noted any sign of Bluestreak’s presence. The grey mech spoke.
“It has been a decabreem, as you requested. Do you need more time?”
Smokescreen paused to run a systems check, then shook his head. “No, self repair’s taken care of what it can.”
“I could locate a repair kit, and you could guide me.”
“Thanks, but field repairs aren’t going to cut it. My head’s a little fuzzy, must’ve gotten a chip knocked loose when I hit that wall. Gonna have to wait for a medic.”
“Can you travel?”
While the tactician had to admit that having the other persona dominant right now made things easier, his unrelenting efficiency left the Praxian a little cold. Everything he did was for a purpose. If he had nothing to tell the blue mech, he was silent. If he stopped, it was to rest or scavenge for supplies. Shuttering his optics, Smokescreen cycled air for a moment, then replied.
“… Yeah. I just need to reroute some data paths… Done. Let’s go.”
Bluestreak’s other personality nodded, and helped him stand. They had to keep moving, this was still too close to the ‘Cons they’d escaped for Smokescreen’s comfort. The deactivated frames scattered across the ground elicited no reaction, though Smokescreen took comfort in the fact that at least the other wasn’t callous enough to just step over the bodies of the fallen like he did miscellaneous rubble and debris. But eventually, the tactician had to comment.
“This doesn’t affect you? Not at all?”
The grey frame glanced back, then motioned for the diversionary mech to follow him into another building. As they progressed further into the structure, Smokescreen found himself growing more uneasy, finally reaching his breaking point and tugging on a grey arm to stop the other bot.
“Well?”
“If I moved them, even to arrange their bodies as they should be placed, someone will notice. At this moment, surviving is more important than mourning what I can do nothing about.” The quiet, logical tone had the tactician venting air in frustration.
“Frag, I know that. But this was your city too! Don’t you feel anything?”
The other personality looked at him, with the same kind of penetrating gaze as when he’d first revealed himself to the psychologist. “I am a fragment of a whole. My ability to process emotion is muted according to my intended purpose. Likewise, you may have noticed how Bluestreak seems to struggle with emotional control. Hence the importance of my rejoining his psyche.”
Then he turned around and started walking again. “There should be a room deeper within that we can use for concealment. The walls and debris will hopefully obscure our signatures from Decepticon notice.”
After a moment’s contemplation of the mech’s back, Smokescreen sighed and did the same.
= = =
The Ops mechs skirted the shadows, using every scan and sensor net they had to check their depths. Suddenly, they picked up a quiet hiss from a darkened corner. They locked onto the sound straight away, Jazz moving cautiously in its direction, weapon in hand, Hound covering his back, optics and scanners on their surroundings. When the black and white mech stopped where he’d calculated the noise was coming from, something shifted in the gloom. The visored mech’s blaster was immediately brought to bear on the figure, accompanied by a low murmur.
“You’d better be who we’re looking for.”
“I hope you’re the ones I want looking for me.”
Hound looked over his shoulder at the familiar voice. “… Smokey?”
“Took you lot long enough. Inside, quickly.” The tactician’s smile was relieved, though it faded rapidly when someone called to him.
“Smokescreen? Who’s with you?”
= = =
The new voice had the Ops mechs pointing their guns in its direction. A grey Praxian peered apprehensively back, and the tactician forcefully told his comrades to calm down before hurrying them all under cover once more, sensor panels practically vibrating with tension.
“It’s okay, Bluestreak. They’re Autobots, like me.”
“Oh. Did you see Prowl? I woke when you left and he wasn't here. He must have gone to scout around.”
“… Prowl joined us?” Mistaking Smokescreen’s wariness for confusion, Bluestreak explained, gesturing animatedly.
“He got us away from the ‘Cons and got us here. But you were probably still offline. That Decepticon really hurt you.”
“Right.” The tactician replied faintly, then lunged to catch hold of the grey mech as Bluestreak made to pass him. “Where are you going?”
“To look for Prowl.”
“Blue’, that’s not a good idea. The ‘Cons are looking for you.”
“Your friends are here, that means we’ll be going soon, and I won’t leave him behind again!”
Hound took over, patting a grey shoulder. “How ‘bout this? I’ll go with you, and if we don’t find him, we’ll figure out something then, alright?”
“… Alright.”
= = =
Once Hound and Bluestreak were out of sight, Jazz looked at Smokescreen, smiling faintly. “Well. Nice place you got here. Nearly gave Hound and me the glitches with all the interference it causes.”
“Thank you. Bluestreak suggested it.”
“Smart mech, hm? What’s the deal with him?” The saboteur’s tone had the diversionary mech sighing, then sinking tiredly to the ground.
“Where do I start?”
“You could tell me why are the ‘Cons after him in particular.”
The tactician snorted humourlessly, gesturing about him. “He’s a civilian. One who survived this.”
“Ouch. That’s really gotta hurt their egos.”
The Ops mech winced, and the blue mech grumbled softly in agreement. “Tell me about it. Then we escaped them when they had him pinned and me helpless.”
“Thought he said that was Prowl’s work.”
“About Prowl… He’s not real. Bluestreak only thinks he is.”
Jazz stared, then joined him on the ground, shaking his head ruefully. “… Wow. You really know how to find them, Smokes. You realise he’s got a big target painted on his back? ‘Cons are gonna want him gone. And if he’s glitched enough to be making up other bots in addition to that, the Autobots aren’t gonna want to take him in either.”
Smokescreen stared at his pedes for a long moment. “I know.”
= = =
The pair had returned, the tracker looking worried, the grey mech restless, constantly looking behind and around him. Jazz met them, the green bot’s expression prompting him to ask quietly. “Hound, what’s out there?”
“ ‘Cons. Between here and our exit. And my scans didn’t pick up anyone else.”
“You could have missed Prowl. He’s good at being quiet. We can’t leave him behind!”
“Calm down, we didn’t say anything about that. In any case, we’ve got two cycles before our ticket outta here lands, but we’ve got to get to the rendezvous point before that. Which means we can’t stay here and wait for him too long. Besides, this Prowl sounds like he can take care of himself, y’know?” The visored mech offered, tone reasonable, and Bluestreak faltered.
“But… Prowl… What if the ‘Cons have him? I need to go back and look some more!”
The grey Praxian would have bolted if Hound hadn’t tried to stop him, the green mech’s grab accidentally missing his arm and catching hold of a sensor panel instead. Bluestreak’s pained cry cut off half way, intakes hitching as he stopped short. The tracker immediately let go, murmuring apologetically, only to fall silent as the chevroned mech straightened, then stepped back, faceplates blank, stance wary.
“Bluestreak? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
The injured panel twitched, then shifted back and forth, as if to ease the pain, though the mech’s flat expression didn’t change. As Smokescreen buried his face in a palm, ‘Bluestreak’ spoke.
“I understand. However, we should be on our way. If there are Decepticons still present, our path will have to be more circumspect.”
Jazz and Hound stared at him, and then at Smokescreen. The blue mech shook his head. “Personality matrix split. I’ll explain later. But he’s right, we need to go now. With all the damage done to the infrastructure and ‘Cons running about, it’ll take us more time to get anywhere. Plus, I’ve been away for a while. I’m not going to be as much use as a guide as I’d like to be.”
“Right. Anyway, you’d still know this city better than us. What’s the best path to these coordinates?” The visored mech was the first to stir, drawing out a map from subspace. The tactician looked at it, then turned to the holographer.
“Hound, where did you say the ‘Cons were?”
A glowing overlay added itself to the diagram as Hound gestured at it. “They’re massed about here. There’re also groups wandering about. No set patrols though, I think they’re just looting and destroying things at random.”
“Frag. That means we’ll have no patterns to take advantage of.”
“Perhaps I might be able to help. Bluestreak is also an inhabitant of Praxus, and a more recent one at that.” The three Autobots turned to the grey mech, who glanced at their map, and then at them, gaze lingering for a brief, barely discernible moment on Smokescreen.
“As such, this is my city too.”
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(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-05 11:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-07 06:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-06 12:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-07 06:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-06 02:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-07 06:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-06 07:28 am (UTC)With Jazz and Hound now added to the mix, it'll be interesting to see how they handle everything.
-Jenn
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-07 06:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-08 03:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-10 09:52 am (UTC)