[ti]Ep 3.5[/ti]Guidance (Airdagger + Starkreiger)

[AirDagger]

Ep 3.5 / Week 2 / day 3 

Forest in Oregon 


The problem with flying low…. was that there was always the possibility that something could be above you. Waiting to swoop down at any moment, and make you its prey. Dagger didn't want to be prey- so he gave the sky his full attention. Decepticon air superiority was of little comfort to the paranoid.

Many had told him that he was defective. What sort of flier was afraid of heights? …If only he could have just been a three-wheeler like his sister. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about crashing to the ground.

It would be nice to not have to think so hard about doing what he was built for. After all, He'd spent nearly his whole life trying to prove himself. Prove that he could fight. Prove that he deserved respect. It had been an uphill battle That he had been made for a specific purpose, which he would have no doubt excelled at if his life had gone how it was supposed to, was of no consequence in the present. Viper and his other commanders had never seen his strengths. Only what he lacked…strength, courage, his gestalt.

After all, there were supposed to be six of him. If he had had his siblings by his side…they would have been able to plow through Autobots with ease. But there were not six of Dagger. And there wouldn't be anytime soon.

Oh well.

Internal musings were cut short by the unmistakable sound of jet engines overhead.

Scrap. Every fibre of his being screamed at him to flee, but Dagger didn’t want to be a coward... so he stayed put. He needed to, however, get a look at his “visitor,” as soon as possible. He spun around quickly, to see what was above him. He could make out the vague form of a primarily black jet, but was unable to determine if it was a foe, ally, or human aircraft.

::Signal Ally:: Encrypted comm frequencies were always helpful. If his visitor was on his side, he’d be able to tell him as much. If he didn't receive an answer, he'd know it was time to fire up his blaster. Dagger cautiously moved closer to the unidentified aircraft, but paused as he noticed familiar features and Decepticon brands.


::Kreig!!:: The miniature jet called out the seeker’s name enthusiastically, zooming around him as fast as he could manage. This was so much better than running into an Autobot! ::Kreig! Hi!!::

[Starkrieger]

He’d needed to clear his processor.

The lull in the war seemed to be coming to a swift close, if the past week was anything indication. The abduction of Knock Out, increased altercations with the Bots, and being inducted into a plot against Megatron were just the major contributors to a shift in the tone he perceived. What started as indignation, and outrage was threatening to sink into something darker, colder, a primal drive that dismissed reason. Yet, he knew, the situation wasn’t that bad…yet. He was overreacting, given the comfort and relative peace Earth had to offer them. He needed to take a step back.

Light from the planet’s brilliant sun poured over the horizon, a faint glow that splashed the pale blue of her sky with delicate pinks and hints of orange. The star itself had disappeared, leaving only its memory. It was a mocking display of serenity, in time it would die, plunging the landscape into darkness. The strong, and vicious flourished in the shadow, waiting for their chance to strike, to sacrifice the meek and vulnerable, simply to rise again once the opportunity arose. Not so different from the cycles of war…

The mostly black jet cut a wide arc as it passed over stretching pines, carpeting the lesser mountains and valleys. Had knowledgeable humans been present, it might have been a concern, as the delta winged frame was out of place for the North American continent. While there was no longer direct light to cause the white and red of his color scheme to stand out, it wasn’t close to dark enough for him to blend in either. However, Starkrieger felt there was no real risk, the only break in the foliage below came from winding waterways. Seeker aside, what predators were likely to be stalking as night approached was the organic, but decidedly not human variety. He doubted there were MECH agents, or Autobots treading through the forest, making it the perfect place to take his ‘step back’. He was alone.

… Or was he?

Even without the distance between himself, it would have been difficult to pick up the lower altitude flier. Signals were clearest in the air, small frames and low energy signatures stood out less distinctly the closer to a backdrop of solid or liquid mass they game. That, however, didn’t stop his standard sensors more than it would any other Seeker.

Small, brown, low flying. Quick turns, high maneuverability… familiar. Holding course, Starkrieger debated the likelihood of it being one of the younglings, and if it was, what his response would be. His mind hadn’t exactly been in a good place lately.

::Signal ally::

Had he been in his root mode, he would have smirked. It wasn't all that long ago that he’d issued that exact demand, though it was aimed at a grounder… Actually, he had run across his ‘Petro-rabbit’ the same day he'd flown into the twins' trap.

Despite his amusement, the Seeker offered only a wordless return signal of acknowledgement. It wasn’t until Dagger approached that he briefly dipped a wing, and decided to properly break the silence.

::Deadlift:: he acknowledged, more serious than the smaller Con, but warmly. ::Out trapping Autobots again?:: The gentle tease was far from critical, as he reduced power to his thrusters, slowing as he let the younger flier come to him.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing, that his solitude had been interrupted.

[AirDagger]

It was clear Dagger was beyond elated about bumping into the other flier.

He continued to zip around his companion, going so far as to make a small loop around one of the seeker's wings, which wasn't too difficult of a task considering their size difference.

After a few more maneuvers, however, he tried to settle himself, as it dawned on him that the serious soldier types like Starkreiger might be a bit offput by his high-energy displays of excitement. He opted to instead start circling him at a casual pace.

At the question, he would pause in contemplation.

::Just scouting. But that doesn’t mean if I see any Autobots they can’t be dealt with.:: There was a hint of mischief in his voice towards the end of his statement. After all, he preferred to play with his prey a bit before killing it…at least when circumstances allowed him too.

::What's the big bad seeker gonna do? Look totally awesome? do a cool trick?:: He paused for dramatic effect, before dropping altitude a few feet and shaking exaggeratedly. ::Eat a mini jet for lunch?::

[Starkrieger]

It was so… odd.

The way that the 'mini-seeker' danced around his frame, with an enthusiasm similar to how Krieg faced a storm, was foreign to him. There was a greater innocence to it. Where Starkrieger would be thrilled at the challenge, the mix of give and take between aggression and submission to the whims of driving winds, Dagger just seemed so… purely joyful. The mechling's energy crossed into the Seeker’s field, which shifted frequencies to, in part, be pulled into the emotions being broadcasted. Had he ever felt that way?

His field, though mimicking in some small degree, remained subdued, calm, and to an extent measured, as Dagger’s presence reminded him of his poor mood, making him cognisant of his desire to shield the other from it.

No, if he had once experienced something similar, it was best not to dwell on the way mecha who were gone had made him feel. At least, it was best so long as remained in the company of others. Such emotions were a personal matter.

Dagger, to his credit, provided an excellent distraction. As the youngspark drew nearer to his left wing, he rolled, banking towards the mini-jet to slide smoothly beneath him. It would have been a dangerous position to put himself in, should he have been the aggressor that Starkrieger was, if they were on opposing sides. After the briefest pause, maintaining the younger flier shy of the right wing's trailing edge, he switched angles and pitch to spiral up over the jetling serving as his axis. He sent no warnings, no coordinates, a Seeker first needed to be able to fly on senses alone. If he panicked, the veteran airmech was skilled enough to prevent a disaster.

As he reached the point where he was upside down, with the smaller mech beneath him, he leveled out. So oriented, his sensors easily picked up on the start of that drop.

::Now that you mention it:: He began seriously, as the mechling lost altitude.

So strange, and yet familiar, while Dagger might have been a bit over the top with his words, Krieg recognized this game. It was one he could hardly forget... even if they'd never verbally initiated it.

::I'm starving:: Unfamiliar with the speaking aspects of the game, he made do, his vocals playful in their deadly intend, marking the dip of a wing into a tight roll as the whir of transformation mingled with air ripping along the contours of his frame. Inverted in alt meant his back was to Dagger, but not for long as he snapped wings to his strut mid spin. Behind his flight visor, he spotted his target, disengaging the unseen readouts that displayed independently before him. With a smirk, he engaged his heel turbines, giving chase.

[AirDagger]

As Kreig transformed and gave chase, Dagger increased power to his engine and sped off as fast as his frame would allow.


::NOOO! Don't eat me! Pleasedon'teatme! I'm still young! I still have my whole function ahead of me!::


His pleas were purposefully dramatic, just like his attempt to "escape." He evaded the seeker to the best of his abilities, turning when he could to throw him off his trail. The chase continued for some time, before the mini jet saw it fit to finally fight back.


::Heh..are you the hunter, Kreiger? Or am I?:: His tone was devious, challenging. Suddenly, he came to a halt and changed his course, increasing altitude before flipping around and heading straight for the jet that was pursuing him. With enough distance between the two of them to (hopefully) prevent a crash, and give the other mech time to slow himself down, Dagger positioned himself above his target before he transformed himself. He would  start to fall into him as gravity took hold.

::PREPARE TO MEET YOUR DOOM, SEEKER!::

He descended with claws outstretched, seemingly prepared to maul his victim ... only to reposition his arms at the last moment and "attack" the soldier with a surprise high-impact hug. After the other mech had stabilized and adjusted to this unexpected extra weight, ensuring they weren't about to plummet to the ground, he giggled a bit at the ridiculousness of the situation, before playfully bonking his head against the larger mech's shoulder.

::I caught you!:: He was feeling very satisfied with himself, and bold enough to remove one arm from around his prey to gently poke at the crest on his helm. 

[Starkrieger]

In alt, Dagger wouldn’t have a hope to match his speed. They were built differently, the effects of their chosen earth alts widening the rift between them as the thicker atmosphere of the planet amplified every advantage, and disadvantage in the native designs. Krieg knew this…

He also knew, and now confirmed for the smaller flier, that in root, he sacrificed speed for agility. Everything he did was with purpose. Matching the elusive tactics, he used the excuse of a rise in altitude to slow further, using the ‘break’ to disengage flight locks, shifting his wings into backwards swept position, making it more fair, as the mini-jet was not only not a Seeker, but lacked his experience. That didn’t mean he couldn’t surprise him.

His opponent had turned and was coming at him, head on. Cutting the power to his thrusters, Starkrieger’s optics narrowed behind his flighter visor. He chose the obvious, dipping to give in to the youngling. This wasn’t a contest of wills. He wasn’t about to put the youngspark ‘in his place’. Passing under the mechling, Krieg wasn't prepared for Dagger to take a note out of his book.

The sound of transformation, the way that the body above changed, triggered instinct.

It’s a game, just a game.

He snapped around, acting on reflex to roll, defending his wings from the very attack he used on many others.

::Nice try youngspark::

As contact was made, Dagger’s frame knocked him earthward, his mass sufficient to make an impression. Another mech would have met the Krieg’s blaster, or claws. Instead, the soldier made a grab to steady the kid, only to find that he was embraced.

Grappling? He’d trained in, and had become well acquainted with it, but he wouldn’t have expected Dagger to. It wasn’t a common technique for a jet, and he was small framed besides. Wait? What was he doing?

In the click it took for Starkrieger to counter the drop, and level out to sustain flight, it hit him that Dagger hadn't transitioned into a melee assault.

What was he doing?!

His processor froze, but remained cohesive enough to keep going, and to fight the urge to correct his orientation. Intuition told him that would mean he’d have to really hold him there, and the threat of that spike in awkwardness would probably result.

No one had ever…

He kept a stranglehold on his field, keeping it level as the youngling giggled. Happy, the mechling was happy. Meanwhile, Starkrieger struggled with how casually close Dagger was. Solarwind, Void, neither of them had been big into touching. Even Strike, despite being more ‘touchy feely’, had… mostly remained within the range of comradery. They hadn’t had time to become so openly familiar.

::Eheh, so you did:: Stunned silence had likely kept his faceplate from offering anything beyond surprise, but Dagger’s satisfaction at the ‘capture’ pulled him out of it, an easy smirk and an amused down finding their way through the Seeker’s confusion.

::Good job Deadlift. We’ll make a Seeker of you yet!::

Now... how did they get out of this... hug thing?

[AirDagger]

Although it was clear Starkreiger was trying his best to stay composed and play it cool, it was also obvious he was flustered. Startled, even. Dagger let out a laugh, a bit louder than the one before it, and looked down at the other mech.

::Has nobody ever given ya a hug before Kreiger!?:: It was hard to wrap his mind around. Dagger didn't consider himself to be a particularly tactile individual, but he also didn't think it was strange to greet a friend or his sibling with a quick hug or arm around the shoulder if he hadn't seen them in awhile.

:You know what that means dontcha?? We've gotta make up for all the ones you've missed out on! C'MERE!::

Unfortunately, the dreaded "hug-thing" would not be ending any time soon. Dagger was having far too much fun tormenting the senior flier. Fully determined to be a little shit, the mini-jet tightened his embrace. When he decided that wasn't satisfactory, he hooked his claws into chainmail, cementing himself as problem that would not be easily removed.

::I'm not lettin' go until I finish counting to 100!:: He did not waver in his convictions. Kreig would not be freed until 100 kliks had passed. Surely that should make up for all the hugs that he'd missed.

A fanged smirk flashed across his face.

::Whatcha gonna do about it huh?  You don't scare me, old mech!:: The "old mech" was clearly non-serious. Kreig wasn't THAT much older than him all things considered. But...he did kind of scare him to be honest. Just a little bit. He was almost twice his size and had terrifying knife fingers. But Dagger doubted there would be any real physical retribution for his actions. Probably. Maybe this would be the day he died.

Hoping to avoid that "fate", the younger flier would finally disengage and release the seeker, before transforming once more and zooming away into the distance as fast as he could. He was dropping altitude, seemingly headed for the forest below so that he could hide.

[Starkrieger]

Well, he failed to see what was so funny. If not for the fact he was in the air, where an ill timed twitch of the wing could send them careening, they would have pulled away. What was that question supposed to mean? Dagger’s tone and words made it seem like he should be used to mecha randomly clinging to him, as if there was something wrong with him.

Derma pulling into a straight line, he had no answer. It wasn’t just the hug, right? Of course not, the scout was being weird, obviously; yet, whatever impulse Krieg had to roughly shake him died instantly. Dagger was too genuine to not cut a little slack… at least while he was able.

So the question was, what should he do?

C’MERE

Things only got worse from there. The drag of the wind weighed against his wings. Downward swept for greater stability, they felt the switch of high pressure raking the wrong side. In alt it wouldn’t matter, but in root the prolonged inversion wormed its way through his processor. He needed to right himself or transform! The world was smaller, added sensors were reduced in range, ‘blinding’ him to potential dangers, dangers he couldn’t see while he wasn’t facing forward. He could have casually shoved the flier off, but the little menace had hooked claws into his under armor. He wouldn’t easily be yanked off (not without potential loss of digits). What were the other's specs? Could he be damaged? Was he able to hold himself close enough to minimize his weight throwing them off course?

Frag it!

Finishing his roll, a single servo remained at Dagger’s back, bracing the mechling.

::Deadlift! This - This is not becoming of a soldier.:: his vocals vied for stern, but lacked the bite he needed to address the ridiculous assault. What was his malfunction? Sol would have never allowed this! His drill sergeants would have had him scrapped for less! Any commanding officer.. Pits any Decepticon, would have seen this as an invitation to snuff his spark.

Yet…

The youngspark was still playing, unaware he might pay for this choice. That’s what the smirk told him. No wonder there were so few of them, they were clearly out of their processors. Didn’t the kid know how dangerous he was? How could someone completely outmatched trust that he wouldn’t be harmed? Whatever existential struggle he was going through was put to rest with a single word.  

::Old?!:: Was he offended or confused? Either way, that called for some kind of response, but it seemed Dagger wasn’t going to stick around long enough to face punishment. Disengaging the mini-jet rocked down, heading for the cover of the trees. Decelerating, the seeker let his pedes catch up with the rest of his frame, casually falling at a nearly ‘upright’ angle. Thank Primus, the weirdness had ended and... he knew this game. Put at ease by familiarity, a smirk spread across his faceplate.

::You’d better be quick youngspark. You’re only getting a few clicks:: The countdown wasn’t shared with Dagger. No, if Krieg decided to ‘cheat’ and chase before time was up, no one could call him out. Deceleration formed a descending arc as the Earth below started to claim him. There was no struggle nor aid; he simply surrendered to the forces of nature.

Then, time was up.

Heels clicking together, the Seeker dove. The whine of thrusters engaging cut through the crisp night air, announcing that the hunt was on. Behind the one-way screen, his visor’s feed kicked back to life, to assist as reaching branches quickly approached. Vision filled with the dark foliage offset by the glow of displayed data, he didn’t let off the throttle, unphased by the risks. The danger was the game.

[AirDagger]

Dagger was pushing it. But oh, this seeker was just so fun to mess with. Who would have thought a simple hug could short out the brain circuits of an elite Decepticon soldier?

He didn't really fear violent retaliation- not from someone with Starkreiger's level of restraint. But if the other flier DID decide to try and tear into him the next time he tried to be bold? Well, Dagger had ways of dealing with that. Big 'bots had a funny habit of forgetting just how close he was to their shins.

Though...it was odd. He wasn't usually known for being the daring twin, and Arrow had scolded him more than once for being too cautious. He wasn't entirely sure what had possessed him to do what he'd just done. Amusement? Yes...it was quite amusing. Maybe he could pull one last stunt, and then he'd show mercy.

When Dagger hit the ground, he wasted little time before scanning the area for a suitably sized tree. Sinking his claws into the bark, he scaled it, and took up residence on the sturdiest looking branch. When his pursuer was finally in his sights, and drew closer, he put his plan into motion. He made a point to not make any noise- any sudden movements from his "target" as this maneuver was being executed could result in disastrous outcomes. 

He retrieved a rock from his cockpit and withdrew his slingshot from his belt. After taking aim, it was sent soaring through the air, before abruptly striking and embedding itself into the tree the seeker was standing in front of... a mere foot away from his helm. Cybertronian metal was far stronger than organic fauna, but the implication was clear. Whatever mech wound up actually getting pelted by such a projectile, was not in for a good time.


Deciding Kreig had gone through enough torment, Dagger decided to reveal himself, maneuvering his body so he was hanging upside down from the branch he had previously been perched on. 

"Sorrryy! I'll be nice now. You're just so fun to mess with." His tone was teasing, but it was clear there wasn't any malice behind his words. "You've gotta learn to expect the unexpected! LIFE IS UNPREDICTABLE AND SO AM I!" He cackled at this, as if it were absolutely hillarious. 

Poor airmech. He ought to fly away now if he valued his sanity. 

[Starkrieger]

The small jet had disappeared beneath the canopy. Tracked trajectory could project only so much, enough that as he tore through the trees, skirting them, that Starkriger knew that he hadn’t passed the mechling up. Disengaging flight locks, the Seeker cut his turbines and flared out wings to break. A quick, final blast of his heel thrusters helped to stall his drop to the forest floor below.

No longer in his element, the Seeker’s optics narrowed from behind their red veil, a slightest hint of the lighting behind peaking through the overall glow, indiscernible at a distance. It was a game, but there was also instinct. A twitch of a wing preceded the deliberate stretch, the angling, searching as he moved forward.

At their size, there was no preventing the snapping of twigs and crunching leaves insulating layers decomposing over the years,

previously touched only by nature. That same size, engulfed harsh snaps, smothering them beneath a pede more massive than anything man or beast possessed. The alien world was alive with sensory input. Scent had never been important to Starkrieger’s, even if he hadn’t had the ‘distractions’ of his array, sight, sound, even ‘touch’ were of far greater value to a flying mech. Yet the wet, earthy smells wafting from below, idly dancing their way amidst the crisp stillness that tickled his sensors evoked emotions. Emptiness, solitude, seclusion. Should they be found, there would be no assistance, no back up. No one would know what became of them.

Vents quieted, systems engaging to shut out the environment as he might in space. Though his goal was not to regulate his frame, but to reduce his output… reduce his chance of being heard.

It was still a game, but the war was still in him.

Further he tread, sharp optics scanning, audials noting the fall of forest noises, and each that sounded the return of life amidst the silence. The swat of a leaf before the acorn that pounced thunked against wood, softening its angled scatter amides rock and dirt. Everything was noted, but he hadn’t yet spotted the youngling. Derma pressed in a firm line, he belayed the encroaching concern, reminding himself, they had seen neither human nor Autobot. They were safe… They were safe.

With a jolt, he recoiled, wings shooting back as the Seeker moved. Something streaked across the darkness barely reflecting the paling light strained by the dense flora. As the rock cleared half his faceplate, the Seekers’ focus flew to the corner of his optic, a the subtle turn of his helm no less sharp, then the drawing back of his chassis. Already, before Dagger announced himself, had the straight path of his shot drawn Starkrieger to the likely point of origin.

Claws flexed ready, he was ready, for the next shot, for a hostile, for death, whether he would be its agent or prize.

Sorrryy!...

His faceplate led the turn, an easy smirk slowly returning as the sound of the smaller mech’s voice better directed him to Dagger's perch. He straightened in that same move, swaying with an ease that ran contrary to everything he had been moments ago.

“Heh, you’re a sneaky one, I’ll give you that.” A light roll of his shoulder further shed tension from his frame, as the lingering sense of stillness drifted to the edge of his consciousness. After all… they were safe.

[AirDagger]

Although Starkreiger tried to act unphased, it was clear he had been startled by the sudden rock shot. Dagger was evidently pleased with this, and let out a light laugh "Don't worry, I ain't an Autobot. But if I was, I could totally kick your butt." He paused. "It would make me sad though. I like you." Despite the teasing, his last statement seemed genuine. 

After he regained his composure, Dagger simply stayed put while upside down, trying to evaluate what the best way to get out of the tree would be. Unfortunately, it would seem that gravity would be making that choice for him. As he started to reposition himself, a faint crack could be heard, and a panicked expression flashed across the mini jet's faceplate. He was about to fall, and the branch was coming with him.

Quick thinking (and prior experience) ultimately saved him, as he was able to rotate his body fast enough to avoid crashing into the ground helm-first. However, that didn't mean the drop would be incident free. As Dagger landed, the large branch he had been sitting on caught up with him, colliding with his left wing and knocking him to the ground. This was, surely, an experience that would have been at least mildly painful for any average flier. And yet, Dagger didn't seem to react. After the offending object had rolled off of him, he rose to a sitting position, and inspected his hands, wrists, knees. He seemed to be experiencing some amount of pain in his joints. Though no attention was given to the wing that had just been hit.

For him, that wasn't shocking. It wasn't real. Of course he didn't have any feeling in it. As long as it wasn't dented? Everything was a-okay. But the other mech didn't know that.

"I'm Alright! I think!"