Ep1.5 - 'Glass House' - Closed
May 22, 2013 18:47:58 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on May 22, 2013 18:47:58 GMT -5
“Sounds more like you convincin’ yourself it was ‘bout protectin’ us,” said Sides in flat, unexpressive English. “Cuz ain’t a thing you did that made anyone safer. Aint a thing you did makes me think I should crack my armor for you, but here we are – you asking me to. So I’mma be clear – only reason I don’t walk outta here, take Streaker an’ leave this place ta rot... cuz I got too many people trustin’ me ta protect ‘em now. Autobots leave people ta die. Prime ain’t Megatron, but they leave mechs behind, leave their own behind an’ you… you ain’t one of ‘em. Clear you don’t wanna be an’ if push comes ta shove th’ Prime… he could lock that groundbridge an’ let dis place burn.”
The blue of Sideswipe's stare was utterly calm. There was no real reason for that calm other than the fact of the matter, other that Cat and Stormbreaker and Moonshot and Shearwind. He did not consider – or did not allow himself to consider – that he might still count the medic in that number because that was a self-destructive notion wasn’t it? Standing on that catered asteroid on the other side of the universe, listening to the sound of the radio disconnect and his teammate telling him ‘I’m so sorry. I'm so so sor-’ as they left them to die. Listening to the static as he tried to contact Cleaver and nothing but hiss of his broken radio on the Hawaiian airwaves – he was amazed how similar the feeling.
You shouldn’t forgive her. On principle, you should never.
Sideswipe shrugged; hydraulic locks audibly disengaged
“So I aint leavin’,” he said, looping his fingers behind his head and laying back on the circuit slab. He set his eyes on the ceiling and kept them there. “Gave my fuckin’ word, innit?”
The blue of Sideswipe's stare was utterly calm. There was no real reason for that calm other than the fact of the matter, other that Cat and Stormbreaker and Moonshot and Shearwind. He did not consider – or did not allow himself to consider – that he might still count the medic in that number because that was a self-destructive notion wasn’t it? Standing on that catered asteroid on the other side of the universe, listening to the sound of the radio disconnect and his teammate telling him ‘I’m so sorry. I'm so so sor-’ as they left them to die. Listening to the static as he tried to contact Cleaver and nothing but hiss of his broken radio on the Hawaiian airwaves – he was amazed how similar the feeling.
You shouldn’t forgive her. On principle, you should never.
Sideswipe shrugged; hydraulic locks audibly disengaged
“So I aint leavin’,” he said, looping his fingers behind his head and laying back on the circuit slab. He set his eyes on the ceiling and kept them there. “Gave my fuckin’ word, innit?”