Ep 0.5 - Texas/Cleaver's Ship - "Drive" [Closed]
Mar 2, 2012 23:36:15 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Mar 2, 2012 23:36:15 GMT -5
“Stay?” Barricade repeated, a low fidelity fritz in his voice.
He circled the block again, the lights and billboards igniting in synced patterns and ripples. Firework exploded over the horizon of the skyscraper skyline and the swooping glass of the windows blazed up, flashing neon and for a moment Barricade was reminded of Iacon, the bright gleam of the spires perfect and polished and clean. He admitted that like liked the streets better, the asphalt of the road and the metal, the grounder’s grid of stone and metal, the traffic lights and the movement of vehicles around him almost mimicking the cross-streets and transport strips of home…
But this city was dead. The metal was dead, the vehicles were dead, the metropolis did not hum with the gestalt spark-beat of a city-former in root mode, a million bound into one home into which the rest of them networked themselves. He’d liked the core of Cybertron, Kaon sublevels, the subterranean because closer to base level, to the mesh of Cybertron, the closer you were to the spark of the world and the death of his world was an abstract for him. The world that sparked him living was dead and he didn’t remember and like he didn’t remember the face of the mech that tore his chest open, or the face of the lover than put the fractal patterns of his soul into his spark, he didn’t remember the tragedy that defined them all.
She asked why not stay? He could he explain to a mayfly what life to transformer looked like.
“Stay as I am? Broken? Or you mean with the Neutralists? The Orphans with no cause but their own survival?” Cade laughed. “What use have I for them or them for me? I am not so purposeless. I have function. I will find it again and when I do, this fragment of me that you are so intrigued by will be a facet of the whole and you will not find it again and do not expect to.”
He circled the block again, the lights and billboards igniting in synced patterns and ripples. Firework exploded over the horizon of the skyscraper skyline and the swooping glass of the windows blazed up, flashing neon and for a moment Barricade was reminded of Iacon, the bright gleam of the spires perfect and polished and clean. He admitted that like liked the streets better, the asphalt of the road and the metal, the grounder’s grid of stone and metal, the traffic lights and the movement of vehicles around him almost mimicking the cross-streets and transport strips of home…
But this city was dead. The metal was dead, the vehicles were dead, the metropolis did not hum with the gestalt spark-beat of a city-former in root mode, a million bound into one home into which the rest of them networked themselves. He’d liked the core of Cybertron, Kaon sublevels, the subterranean because closer to base level, to the mesh of Cybertron, the closer you were to the spark of the world and the death of his world was an abstract for him. The world that sparked him living was dead and he didn’t remember and like he didn’t remember the face of the mech that tore his chest open, or the face of the lover than put the fractal patterns of his soul into his spark, he didn’t remember the tragedy that defined them all.
She asked why not stay? He could he explain to a mayfly what life to transformer looked like.
“Stay as I am? Broken? Or you mean with the Neutralists? The Orphans with no cause but their own survival?” Cade laughed. “What use have I for them or them for me? I am not so purposeless. I have function. I will find it again and when I do, this fragment of me that you are so intrigued by will be a facet of the whole and you will not find it again and do not expect to.”