[ He doesn't have his spinnerang. He doesn't know if he cares.
Even now, numb and hollow, he doesn't know if he could stomach going back there, standing in the ashes of his hopes. And that was assuming it had even survived the flames.
[ Megatron is inside yet another empty room of his floor. Nice for training, where he and Quick made much progress. Where Quick managed the environment to kick him in the head good enough to stun.
Megatron praised him for his advancements. Truly a work of art that machine.
And when he senses the little AI is there he opens the door. Allowing his endearing little collectors edition inside.
Watching his movements and seeing that dead tone.
Death here is different for everyone, and clearly this one is suffering just under the right conditions.]
I have made a few new courses for you to run, but I will not let you do this right away. I only have to ask...
Yeah. I'm fine. [ His voice roughens just a little as he ducks inside, and he grits his teeth. Holding back the Too Much that reared up inside him.
There's still a scar on his arm, from where he'd slammed into Heatman, holding it out ahead of him. Well, more of an injury. A melted burn, thankfully so much less than before. Barely anything of note, in comparison. Right? ]
[ He shoves himself away from it. Too much, breaking through to the surface, the smallest of hot spots on a sea of volcanic ash.
...Actually, maybe don't think of ash. ]
Shut up. If I say I'm fine, I'm FINE.
I'm a weapon, right? So point this weapon at something and let's- Let's just stab something.
[ He doesn't know what he's doing. Even if the howling emptiness, hot and cold both, wasn't clawing at the insides of him where hope used to be- How could he know? A robot master had never had their creator die before. One would've expected a robotic leash to involve a lot more access codes and protocol updates. And maybe they did, usually, when the changing of hands was more formal than a supposed corpse.
He just wants to be a weapon, until he doesn't feel numb any more. Or until he doesn't care either way. He would never want anything else. ]
[ It slams into him, all at once. Maybe it would've gone unnoticed, this new chain. A snake in the grass until it bit him on the leg. But then Megatron tells him that his purpose will be at his hands and suddenly Quick is gasping around a new collar, choking on something he hadn't meant to give.
He would have fought anyway. He would have, he would have fought like his life depended on it, and it DID. But then it's an order and the order hollows it out and rage and tears prick at the corners of his optics. His defiance too, taken from him.
He fights. He's without his spinnerang, but he fights. Kicks, punches, biting as the tears flow. ]
Screw you, screw you, SCREW YOU! [ He trusted him, he TRUSTED him. ]
Crackling, warping energy, inside of him, inside of him- His internals scream warnings across his vision, disintegrating into static as soon as they form; his body is crying out for help, Quick's crying out for help, and there's no one to hear.
His frame feels too big for itself. It's his brother's Atomic Fire all over again. It is worse than his Atomic Fire. At least when Heatman melted him down to slag it was all of him, not the horrifying, sickening feeling of sloshing inside of him; he chokes and gags, and he thinks it might be on his own internals. There's the sound of metal warping, all around him and in his audials, so loud he thinks even he might go deaf.
He's not sure how much time has passed. Too little and too much. It's time being relative, all over again. Did he black out, briefly? His systems are throwing up errors again and half of them don't make sense. There are pieces missing except they are fine except they are not and- It hurts. It hurts.
The screams choke off into wheezing, spatters of silver coughed through unsteady vents. The pain doesn't go away. It is less, but it aches solidly inside of him, instead of the woozily sloshing feeling from earlier. It's hard to think through it. He tries so hard to blink away the 'ERROR: INCOMPATIBLE PARTS' that pops up over his vision, and tastes metallic on his teeth.
For a moment, something in him wants to break. Wants to bend to this. Nearly, he drops his head. But then black and red flashes over his vision, a new spike of pain through his processor, and his head jerks up into a whimper. It's all he has left to give. ]
[ Everything moves sideways for a moment, and Quick feels like he's going to hurl. He shudders at the touch, the words, revulsion in his chest, and that seems to make it all the more likely- But he's too woozy still to even bare his teeth at his new master.
Leashed. But not tamed. But for now, he hurt too much to express it.
Probably a good thing.
He moves, slowly. Every time he does his vision spins, dizziness threatening to drown him. But Quickman is stubborn, so stubborn. He flips himself over to his hands and knees at first, though the movement makes him gasp with new errors. Then, slowly, nearly stumbling into falling over again... He stands. Everything's too long. His legs quake like a baby deer's, unsure of their new lengths. He's... Taller? The surface of that betraying hand is too far away compared to what it should be.
It makes him nearly sick.
He can taste the ash of his would-be home on his teeth again, mixing with the copper and aluminum. ]
[ He wants to SCREAM at him. Managable? MANAGABLE? This time, this time he bares his teeth (it's all he can allow himself), but says nothing. Even he knew not to bite Wily's hand when it had been around his throat.
He didn't ask for this. He asked for a friend to help him forget.
This monster was not his friend.
But the leash tugs tight and no matter how much he wants to posture and be the threat he is, Quick knows what he can and cannot do. He has a new master. He has a new collar. And now Megatron could do whatever the hell he wanted. ]
Fine. [ There was no other answer he could give. ]
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rosecarmine
(no subject)
Date: 2024-01-13 11:48 am (UTC)[ He doesn't have his spinnerang. He doesn't know if he cares.
Even now, numb and hollow, he doesn't know if he could stomach going back there, standing in the ashes of his hopes. And that was assuming it had even survived the flames.
Hand to hand would have to do. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2024-01-13 11:55 am (UTC)Megatron praised him for his advancements. Truly a work of art that machine.
And when he senses the little AI is there he opens the door. Allowing his endearing little collectors edition inside.
Watching his movements and seeing that dead tone.
Death here is different for everyone, and clearly this one is suffering just under the right conditions.]
I have made a few new courses for you to run, but I will not let you do this right away. I only have to ask...
Are you okay
(no subject)
Date: 2024-01-13 01:02 pm (UTC)There's still a scar on his arm, from where he'd slammed into Heatman, holding it out ahead of him. Well, more of an injury. A melted burn, thankfully so much less than before. Barely anything of note, in comparison. Right? ]
Let's just get to training.
(no subject)
Date: 2024-01-13 01:06 pm (UTC)I never got moments to be fine for trianing. Pushed ahead till I could no longer function for the day. That is no way to live.
Look at me, Quick. Let me help just a bit before you force my hand.
(no subject)
Date: 2024-01-13 01:34 pm (UTC)...Actually, maybe don't think of ash. ]
Shut up. If I say I'm fine, I'm FINE.
I'm a weapon, right? So point this weapon at something and let's- Let's just stab something.
[ He doesn't know what he's doing. Even if the howling emptiness, hot and cold both, wasn't clawing at the insides of him where hope used to be- How could he know? A robot master had never had their creator die before. One would've expected a robotic leash to involve a lot more access codes and protocol updates. And maybe they did, usually, when the changing of hands was more formal than a supposed corpse.
He just wants to be a weapon, until he doesn't feel numb any more. Or until he doesn't care either way. He would never want anything else. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2024-01-13 01:46 pm (UTC)You want to be a weapon, truly, surely. For purpose at my hands and no one else.
Do you want power to escape your past? Do you want to run eternal and flee from your floundered existence?!
I'll raise you into what you want to be, you will be above your programming.
[ His hand moves to close around him. ]
Now fight it first. Fight and prove you're worthy of a new purpose.
(no subject)
Date: 2024-01-13 01:54 pm (UTC)[ It slams into him, all at once. Maybe it would've gone unnoticed, this new chain. A snake in the grass until it bit him on the leg. But then Megatron tells him that his purpose will be at his hands and suddenly Quick is gasping around a new collar, choking on something he hadn't meant to give.
He would have fought anyway. He would have, he would have fought like his life depended on it, and it DID. But then it's an order and the order hollows it out and rage and tears prick at the corners of his optics. His defiance too, taken from him.
He fights. He's without his spinnerang, but he fights. Kicks, punches, biting as the tears flow. ]
Screw you, screw you, SCREW YOU! [ He trusted him, he TRUSTED him. ]
cw depersonalization, abuse, predatory behavior
Date: 2024-01-13 02:04 pm (UTC)[ The hand gently closed around him, not lifting, not anything but the theme brushed up to his face. Then
ZAPP]
I adore you, Quick. A wonderful creation of marveled human ingenuity. But you are not without flaws.
I will fix that for you. I will make you better. Stronger.
[ The thumb moves to hold him in place now as he finally stands. Squeezing. ]
HEY DO YOU LIKE ROBO-GORE I LIKE ROBO-GORE
Date: 2024-01-13 03:01 pm (UTC)Crackling, warping energy, inside of him, inside of him- His internals scream warnings across his vision, disintegrating into static as soon as they form; his body is crying out for help, Quick's crying out for help, and there's no one to hear.
His frame feels too big for itself. It's his brother's Atomic Fire all over again. It is worse than his Atomic Fire. At least when Heatman melted him down to slag it was all of him, not the horrifying, sickening feeling of sloshing inside of him; he chokes and gags, and he thinks it might be on his own internals. There's the sound of metal warping, all around him and in his audials, so loud he thinks even he might go deaf.
He's not sure how much time has passed. Too little and too much. It's time being relative, all over again. Did he black out, briefly? His systems are throwing up errors again and half of them don't make sense. There are pieces missing except they are fine except they are not and- It hurts. It hurts.
The screams choke off into wheezing, spatters of silver coughed through unsteady vents. The pain doesn't go away. It is less, but it aches solidly inside of him, instead of the woozily sloshing feeling from earlier. It's hard to think through it. He tries so hard to blink away the 'ERROR: INCOMPATIBLE PARTS' that pops up over his vision, and tastes metallic on his teeth.
For a moment, something in him wants to break. Wants to bend to this. Nearly, he drops his head. But then black and red flashes over his vision, a new spike of pain through his processor, and his head jerks up into a whimper. It's all he has left to give. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2024-01-13 03:08 pm (UTC)[ He loosens his grip and rolls his hand flat palm up so Quick can lay there. In the middle of a static ocean.
Nova Storm was a wonderful test subject, Wheeljack was a trial of making sure he could keep and control what is his.
Quick is now a personal project and extension of a goal so close in reach.
Could it be eventually, the cosmoses all bent to his whim.
The multiple realities his alone.
He's proven he can warp three different indivuals of different realms as is.
As he lifts his other hand he brushes a finger along Quick's face. ]
Good boy.
(no subject)
Date: 2024-01-13 03:27 pm (UTC)Leashed. But not tamed. But for now, he hurt too much to express it.
Probably a good thing.
He moves, slowly. Every time he does his vision spins, dizziness threatening to drown him. But Quickman is stubborn, so stubborn. He flips himself over to his hands and knees at first, though the movement makes him gasp with new errors. Then, slowly, nearly stumbling into falling over again... He stands. Everything's too long. His legs quake like a baby deer's, unsure of their new lengths. He's... Taller? The surface of that betraying hand is too far away compared to what it should be.
It makes him nearly sick.
He can taste the ash of his would-be home on his teeth again, mixing with the copper and aluminum. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2024-01-13 03:33 pm (UTC)You are stronger, faster, bigger.
I did not change the core, I did not remove everything. I wanted you to be manageable, to exist to the left of yourself.
Do you understand now, Quick. You asked. I delivered. And you will help me in exchange.
(no subject)
Date: 2024-01-13 03:39 pm (UTC)He didn't ask for this. He asked for a friend to help him forget.
This monster was not his friend.
But the leash tugs tight and no matter how much he wants to posture and be the threat he is, Quick knows what he can and cannot do. He has a new master. He has a new collar. And now Megatron could do whatever the hell he wanted. ]
Fine. [ There was no other answer he could give. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2024-01-13 03:46 pm (UTC)And you will not be alone for long.