[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Again. [Closed]
Aug 11, 2021 20:16:27 GMT -5
Post by Patch on Aug 11, 2021 20:16:27 GMT -5
Patch heard the quiet words.
She looked hurt. But not a helpless sort of hurt- ohhhh no. The sort of open, twisted hurt that came when stabbed in the back with a pen. A surprise someone would stoop that low. A bewildered, offended Shock that they would Dare strike out in such a way.
But before she could lash back… The aggression melted off her features, that same, damn look behind her optics. Like a corpse hung out to dry, the last few memories before their spark extinguished still hanging in their eyes.
“Have you ever been Hungry, sir?”
She said lowly, as he turned to leave. Almost sounding hungry now.
“And I don’t mean like ‘It’s been a day since I got the chance to eat’ kinda hungry,”
Her voice grew monotone, and lower still. Eyebrows growing involved, by the end, as her steady voice began to bounce with something akin- something between flippantness and a valiant battle with tears.
“I mean the kinda hungry you get when your supply line’s been broken a month and a half and your tank hurts so bad you can’t breath right.”
It didn’t matter what he did at this point. If he left, she’d rise to follow him. If he shouted she’d speak over him- Patch didn’t Care at this point what would happen to her; she wanted these words out. She needed these words out. She was exhausted, and angry, and juvenile- and that was a dangerous mix.
“Because if you’ve never done that, covered in your own, and someone else’s energon, peddes so rusted up you can’t feel em’ anymore, fifty feet away from where your brother’s chassis Isn’t Buried, You don’t get to claim, you understand every conceivable facet of what war is and has been to your people. -You don’t get to claim that I would have been 'Broken' without that as my life!!!-
Her jaw drew tight as she shook her head as her voice drew down once more.
“I have listened to so many people die, sir.”
“I don’t care what your definition of repression is- I have been lorded over my entire life- I have NEVER decided what I do with myself. I have made it this far- I do NOT take that for granted, I am HERE, and I’m thankful for that, but Don’t you Dare-”
There was a fury behind that word.
“-Explain to me how I am 'better off'.”
She looked hurt. But not a helpless sort of hurt- ohhhh no. The sort of open, twisted hurt that came when stabbed in the back with a pen. A surprise someone would stoop that low. A bewildered, offended Shock that they would Dare strike out in such a way.
But before she could lash back… The aggression melted off her features, that same, damn look behind her optics. Like a corpse hung out to dry, the last few memories before their spark extinguished still hanging in their eyes.
“Have you ever been Hungry, sir?”
She said lowly, as he turned to leave. Almost sounding hungry now.
“And I don’t mean like ‘It’s been a day since I got the chance to eat’ kinda hungry,”
Her voice grew monotone, and lower still. Eyebrows growing involved, by the end, as her steady voice began to bounce with something akin- something between flippantness and a valiant battle with tears.
“I mean the kinda hungry you get when your supply line’s been broken a month and a half and your tank hurts so bad you can’t breath right.”
It didn’t matter what he did at this point. If he left, she’d rise to follow him. If he shouted she’d speak over him- Patch didn’t Care at this point what would happen to her; she wanted these words out. She needed these words out. She was exhausted, and angry, and juvenile- and that was a dangerous mix.
“Because if you’ve never done that, covered in your own, and someone else’s energon, peddes so rusted up you can’t feel em’ anymore, fifty feet away from where your brother’s chassis Isn’t Buried, You don’t get to claim, you understand every conceivable facet of what war is and has been to your people. -You don’t get to claim that I would have been 'Broken' without that as my life!!!-
Her jaw drew tight as she shook her head as her voice drew down once more.
“I have listened to so many people die, sir.”
“I don’t care what your definition of repression is- I have been lorded over my entire life- I have NEVER decided what I do with myself. I have made it this far- I do NOT take that for granted, I am HERE, and I’m thankful for that, but Don’t you Dare-”
There was a fury behind that word.
“-Explain to me how I am 'better off'.”