Ep1 - 'Alone in Atacama' - Closed - Finis
Nov 10, 2013 19:33:28 GMT -5
Post by Dart on Nov 10, 2013 19:33:28 GMT -5
The moment the last drops of the Warlord’s fuel had been covered with sand, the courier relaxed.
It was minute, perhaps, but also obvious after all of her other nervous jitters and stutters. Her hands were by her side, and her spoiler no longer pricked over her shoulders in tight focus. She had turned her nose slightly into the hot, sullen breeze, and was drawing fresh air into her systems.
The scent of his hand wound had faded as well, since it had fully scabbed over. The hot sand was baking away the moisture and taking the remnants deep into the desert. There was no life here to come across it, to accidentally stumble and touch the taint. Dart quietly worried to herself, and then she quietly worried about what was going to happen to him if- if he ever lost control of it. Well, and what would happen to those around him too; she couldn’t shake those thoughts.
As he stood, Lord Megatron’s voice rumbled across the distance between them. In this still, barren place, Dart could feel his words as much as hear them. It was like the deep undertone of a distant engine rumbling on a tarmac, powerful enough to shiver the ground and the air.
A nod. Dart would relay the message. Then she cocked her head slightly and looked up at the Warlord. Her optics gleamed a soft, thoughtful blue under the harsh shadows cast by the rim of her helm.
“I can say that is one thing I would never expect from him, Lord Megatron.”
There was no defensiveness in her words over her superior officer. Nor guile. Dart simply stated a fact, and one that she knew to be the truth. Was she afraid of Pyrotech? Yes, absolutely. She had seen what had happened to other mechs in his command over the time she’d been assigned to his crew. She knew how close she came to rusting in Australia.
“He would not stray from the cause. Not him. I- I don’t say that to impress you, sir. It’s just what it is. All of us who work for him know. The cause always comes first with him.” A little draw of her intakes. “You always come first. He wants to return to Cybertron - he always tells his team that you will be the one who leads us home.”
“We know, if anyone was to depart from the cause...”
The courier’s hands quietly curled over the top of her hip carriers and she fiddled with the little latch as if she was going to stuff her hands into them. “Everyone knows, Lord Megatron, sir. There would be no quarter given, and none expected."
It was minute, perhaps, but also obvious after all of her other nervous jitters and stutters. Her hands were by her side, and her spoiler no longer pricked over her shoulders in tight focus. She had turned her nose slightly into the hot, sullen breeze, and was drawing fresh air into her systems.
The scent of his hand wound had faded as well, since it had fully scabbed over. The hot sand was baking away the moisture and taking the remnants deep into the desert. There was no life here to come across it, to accidentally stumble and touch the taint. Dart quietly worried to herself, and then she quietly worried about what was going to happen to him if- if he ever lost control of it. Well, and what would happen to those around him too; she couldn’t shake those thoughts.
As he stood, Lord Megatron’s voice rumbled across the distance between them. In this still, barren place, Dart could feel his words as much as hear them. It was like the deep undertone of a distant engine rumbling on a tarmac, powerful enough to shiver the ground and the air.
A nod. Dart would relay the message. Then she cocked her head slightly and looked up at the Warlord. Her optics gleamed a soft, thoughtful blue under the harsh shadows cast by the rim of her helm.
“I can say that is one thing I would never expect from him, Lord Megatron.”
There was no defensiveness in her words over her superior officer. Nor guile. Dart simply stated a fact, and one that she knew to be the truth. Was she afraid of Pyrotech? Yes, absolutely. She had seen what had happened to other mechs in his command over the time she’d been assigned to his crew. She knew how close she came to rusting in Australia.
“He would not stray from the cause. Not him. I- I don’t say that to impress you, sir. It’s just what it is. All of us who work for him know. The cause always comes first with him.” A little draw of her intakes. “You always come first. He wants to return to Cybertron - he always tells his team that you will be the one who leads us home.”
“We know, if anyone was to depart from the cause...”
The courier’s hands quietly curled over the top of her hip carriers and she fiddled with the little latch as if she was going to stuff her hands into them. “Everyone knows, Lord Megatron, sir. There would be no quarter given, and none expected."