[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Tethered [Closed]
Apr 11, 2022 12:53:08 GMT -5
Post by Carbine on Apr 11, 2022 12:53:08 GMT -5
"You don’t̡ g̶et an-a͢n̕y̕th͏ing..."
Frustrated words that were strained into a hissed snarl.
How could Bumblebee understand any of his issues? As far as Carbine saw, the Golden Child had no faults in the eyes of others except his voice. Friends with all, favored by Optimus, a good soul and Scout that anyone would do something for in an instant if he were in need. He could get away with whatever few blunders he did, because such an immaculate individual was oh so very innocent and pathetic that of course it was a mistake and he shouldn't be at fault. A little pat on the head and a 'run along and play now' offered. At most a scolding when things were really bad.
"That’s the issu͟e."
Carbine's left hand seemed to loosen from the harness a second, fingers flexing some, before they curled back over the rubber lined grip with a hard grasp, his gaze drifting down to Bolo.
The canine was fiercely focused, staring straight out at Bumblebee as if the entire world outside this moment did not exist. His ears were still upright, body tense, blunted toes splayed out to try to get as much traction as possible along the rubber liners. Bolo didn't look up for a command, or seem interested at all on what Master was doing. All that mattered was him, and the target across the way who could be attacked at any moment should there be the faintest of clues.
Carbine could see the danger here. Knowing that even if he was angry and felt validated in the second, that if he lost control of the Cassette that he would be in even more trouble. Yet... he didn't put him away, using it to keep Bumblebee alienated in a corner away from him.
"Everyone seem̕s t͘o th-t̴h̸ink they know wha̕t͢'̀s ͞b́èst f-for me."
They all felt like they were helping him. Carbine had no doubts about that. In some portion of his mind he could truly understand they thought they were aiming him towards a new track to get to a better place. Except, the issue was that it was whatever track they wanted rather than the one he was walking towards. It frustrated him, the remaining portion of his lips flicking up into a sort of sneer.
"How I sh-şh̕ǫuld behave. Shou̷ld h̡ơw ̸kk̡zz͡ghth̀ how act. What I should, and shouldn't do..."
That he should be talking through his issues...
"The thug. The cop. T͝h-th́e v̛i̶c͢tim. The obedient d-do̵g. The altruistic soul."
While the latter was seldom seen, he had shown all the traits and then some at one point or another, yet that was simply life and someone being an individual. It was expected that they all wove between those lines to an extent, snaking back and forth depending on what environmental elements were around. Yet, Carbine was starting to feel confined. He knew some favored seeing him as one thing in particular, and that hadn't bothered him... It was their loss for believing such things and their ignorance could be used in his favor. Yet, as a result of the fact that something within him snapped since the incident with Windshield, he started feeling like those around him were trying to force him to be something he wasn't, and he couldn't see them as an individual's viewpoints over the idea of controlling him.
"That if I w-̧w͞ànt to ̡tr̴y something new, I am ẂR̛O̢͟͝NG!"
"You're all fucked up in the head, okay?"
Those words weren't meant to be taken how he did, but they would stick with Carbine for a good long while. Burned into his processor to a point there were doubts it would ever go away until the day his frame finally gave out. He wasn't wrong in feeling how he was... he wasn't sick or crazy or psychotic... what he felt was valid.
But how could the golden child hope to understand?
Frustrated words that were strained into a hissed snarl.
How could Bumblebee understand any of his issues? As far as Carbine saw, the Golden Child had no faults in the eyes of others except his voice. Friends with all, favored by Optimus, a good soul and Scout that anyone would do something for in an instant if he were in need. He could get away with whatever few blunders he did, because such an immaculate individual was oh so very innocent and pathetic that of course it was a mistake and he shouldn't be at fault. A little pat on the head and a 'run along and play now' offered. At most a scolding when things were really bad.
"That’s the issu͟e."
Carbine's left hand seemed to loosen from the harness a second, fingers flexing some, before they curled back over the rubber lined grip with a hard grasp, his gaze drifting down to Bolo.
The canine was fiercely focused, staring straight out at Bumblebee as if the entire world outside this moment did not exist. His ears were still upright, body tense, blunted toes splayed out to try to get as much traction as possible along the rubber liners. Bolo didn't look up for a command, or seem interested at all on what Master was doing. All that mattered was him, and the target across the way who could be attacked at any moment should there be the faintest of clues.
Carbine could see the danger here. Knowing that even if he was angry and felt validated in the second, that if he lost control of the Cassette that he would be in even more trouble. Yet... he didn't put him away, using it to keep Bumblebee alienated in a corner away from him.
"Everyone seem̕s t͘o th-t̴h̸ink they know wha̕t͢'̀s ͞b́èst f-for me."
They all felt like they were helping him. Carbine had no doubts about that. In some portion of his mind he could truly understand they thought they were aiming him towards a new track to get to a better place. Except, the issue was that it was whatever track they wanted rather than the one he was walking towards. It frustrated him, the remaining portion of his lips flicking up into a sort of sneer.
"How I sh-şh̕ǫuld behave. Shou̷ld h̡ơw ̸kk̡zz͡ghth̀ how act. What I should, and shouldn't do..."
That he should be talking through his issues...
"The thug. The cop. T͝h-th́e v̛i̶c͢tim. The obedient d-do̵g. The altruistic soul."
While the latter was seldom seen, he had shown all the traits and then some at one point or another, yet that was simply life and someone being an individual. It was expected that they all wove between those lines to an extent, snaking back and forth depending on what environmental elements were around. Yet, Carbine was starting to feel confined. He knew some favored seeing him as one thing in particular, and that hadn't bothered him... It was their loss for believing such things and their ignorance could be used in his favor. Yet, as a result of the fact that something within him snapped since the incident with Windshield, he started feeling like those around him were trying to force him to be something he wasn't, and he couldn't see them as an individual's viewpoints over the idea of controlling him.
"That if I w-̧w͞ànt to ̡tr̴y something new, I am ẂR̛O̢͟͝NG!"
"You're all fucked up in the head, okay?"
Those words weren't meant to be taken how he did, but they would stick with Carbine for a good long while. Burned into his processor to a point there were doubts it would ever go away until the day his frame finally gave out. He wasn't wrong in feeling how he was... he wasn't sick or crazy or psychotic... what he felt was valid.
But how could the golden child hope to understand?