Vector Prime (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spacetimeprime) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
red_diode_district2014-08-28 09:16 pm
spacetimeprime) wrote in red_diode_district2014-08-28 09:16 pm
a million points of light ascending to the sky
It's been a long time, even by their standards.
Centuries to millennium to eons- the remains of the Firstforged all trudging along, all in their own ways. As far as Vector Prime knows, he's one of if not the only one still attempting to follow his original purpose, even if he did spend ages within a private dimension trying to hide from it all. The worlds. Its people.
His own past.
But once again absorbed in to the timestreams, one again charting the course, the ebb and flow of time- here he finds curiosity, then alarm, then all the more reason to seek out one of the few he believes is still out there. Still alive.
Still themselves, most importantly.
Vector Prime lands on the metallic platform, gazing up at the sanctuary that his sibling has made for themselves. It looks old; ancient by anyone's standards but his own. Even so, it is not without some reverence that he steps forwards, wings folding behind him as he ventures through the entrance.
Centuries to millennium to eons- the remains of the Firstforged all trudging along, all in their own ways. As far as Vector Prime knows, he's one of if not the only one still attempting to follow his original purpose, even if he did spend ages within a private dimension trying to hide from it all. The worlds. Its people.
His own past.
But once again absorbed in to the timestreams, one again charting the course, the ebb and flow of time- here he finds curiosity, then alarm, then all the more reason to seek out one of the few he believes is still out there. Still alive.
Still themselves, most importantly.
Vector Prime lands on the metallic platform, gazing up at the sanctuary that his sibling has made for themselves. It looks old; ancient by anyone's standards but his own. Even so, it is not without some reverence that he steps forwards, wings folding behind him as he ventures through the entrance.
no subject
"Only a little."
But Solus still smiles, reaching out to rest a well-worn hand on Vector's shoulder.
"It may have been an age, but you are still the same brother I remember."
Despite her own bitterness at the long absence, her tone is fond.
no subject
Vector sighs nonetheless, reaching up to rub his helm. Even so, there's the barest hint of a smile there, rueful as it is.
He may as well get it out.
"I was hoping to plead a creation from you." There, he's admitted it. "A favor. I...suppose...the least I could do is entertain you for the time it takes for you to...consider such a request."
Oh, look. He just found an excuse to stay longer.
no subject
"First contact and visit in eons, and it is only because you want me to make you something."
She pulls away, shunting the hurt away in favor of eyeing Vector with dangerously narrowed optics- before striding off without a word.
...it is worth noting the grip she has on her hammer haft is tight enough to creak.
SHIT SHIT ABORT
That was not how he expected that to go. He's not sure how he expected it differently- but it was. And rather than simply take it-
"It was a catalyst for me to come, Solus-!"
He takes a step forward, then another, uncertain as to how far he should try and follow.
"And...I thought it best that I admit as much now, rather than stay as I plan to do regardless and have you think I was deliberately trying to deceive-!"
DANGER DANGER
"Yes. Entertain me so I might make something you desire." She calls back without looking, striding past the forge she had been working at when he arrived.
The item is too delicate for her current wrath.
She expected some crisis; word from one of their siblings or Lord.
To be visited only to be asked to build...
It is not the same, not at all; but it brings unpleasant memories of Megatronus' deception and use of her to the forefront of her thoughts, in ways that she has not recalled in millennia.
She pauses abruptly at a workbench, shoulders hunched; she still trusts him enough to leave her back to him, at least.
"...If I had not some skill you wished to make use of, would you see fit to ignore my existence for another eon or five?"
no subject
"...I never ignored."
The words are quiet, strained, and accompanied by a grimace. Vector's wings are lowered behind him, but this isn't so much the intimidation of before as- guilt? No. Distress, unease, certainly. He has chosen the wrong path to take, to address this, and can only try to correct the course.
"Even at my most reclusive, my memories were what kept me company, though I could not then bear to have them be anything more than that, after...everything that happened." He pauses, wanting to wring his hands- but still, ever still, settling for looking down at the floor.
"Some have been easier to speak with than others, because my duties overlapped with theirs in a manner that made it simpler to begin once again."
Alpha Trion, with his full immersion with those who came after.
Nexus Prime...though he had lost memory of whom he truly was.
"I had thought...the device to serve as an excuse to at least try, and even if you said no, it would have been...good...to see you again. Without it...I do not know how I would have come."
no subject
"No, you never forgot!"
Solus slams her hammer down against the workbench, whirling in place to direct a furious glare her brother's way.
"Honoring your 'memories' does nothing for those left ignored!"
Even his later words do little to help; furious and hurt, her armor bristles, spines of her alt raising in subconscious defense.
"You even required an excuse to see me. The excuse of my work. Have I nothing of worth to offer but the sum of my constructs?"
no subject
What can he say to that, but the truth, as he has been, and hope that it at least tempers her rage?
"You are so much more than that- and how am I, who has cut themselves off for so long, to venture towards it once again after turning my back?"
His hands do not so much clench as curl before him, displaying his frustration.
"How am I to dare act as though nothing has happened when, in fact, that nothing is what has created this rift? What am I to rely on than the most base of memories, of function- you, as a master crafter, and I, as a meager warrior in desperate need of tools to serve my own purpose, and then hope that through this we can once again move past such simplicity?"
Because he doesn't know.