2016-12-20 Finite Resource
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Location||Madrigal and Someone's Habsuite|
|Summary||Two knights have a fight|
While the habsuites are all shared, one can be reassured that each contains a workstation, a nice big monitor screen, space for bots in their alt modes, and recharge slabs for both individuals. They might have to fight over who gets the slab by the window, however.
"Would you just- tarry a moment! /Madrigal/," Whetstone nearly whines, pursuing the bounce-bouncing bladed feathers of Madrigal's tail as the knight stalks away in anger. He rounds a few corners, struggling not to break into a sprint. Madrigal's a quick little bird! "Hear me out! I meant no ill-will! Rage must be expelled, not quelled! Surely you understand..."
The halls start to fill up with bots due to the shift switching, and Whetstone eventually ends up sidling the wall from the sudden traffic.
Both speed and size are on Madrigal's side, the minibot only has to weave through a few mecha to reach his door. He does stop at his door, palm hovering over the keypad, to look toward where Whetstone would probably appear from, if he caught up. There's plenty of people in the way though, and he's not tall enough to see past most of them.
His antenna flick down while he types in his doorcode, slowly so it doesn't get mucked up. Emotions don't go well with rational thinking, and he still has to pause to remember the code on normal days.
Whetstone bristles openly as mechs push past him. He's in the wrong lane! "Pardon me- Excuse m-..." He brightens when Madrigal finally looks back at him, then finally manages to make his way over, hands clasped. "Please, don't be upset Madrigal. We're all that's left here. The harmony must not be disturbed..."
Madrigal tucks his wings closer around his shoulders, stepping back toward the opening door. There's a brief moment of looking between Whetstone and the crowding hallways before he steps back into the room. "Not out here." It's as much an invitation as the other knight will get right now.
Whetstone hesitates at the threshold, then slips inside, hand rubbing against his neck. Unfamiliar habsuites must trouble him, as he keeps himself flattened against the wall, optics darting all over the room. His tail coils anxiously. "...You forgot your quartz," he says slowly, holding the crystal between his claws.
"I hadn't noticed." Madrigal snaps, flinching and flexing his hands uselessly in the air. "You-" His voice tips up, edging into a higher octave. He takes a moment to step forward and take the quartz in his own claws, taking care not to touch Whetstone. Wings ruffle and clamp together, his free claws tapping on their palm. "Killing him won't fix anything."
"That's not true," Whetstone says, trying not to sound strained. "It will restore the balance. Star Saber is likely an agent of Mortilus," he gestures, palm open. "He is no doubt sewing more evil across the galaxies! Madrigal, he betrayed all of us, destroyed our home! Everything we worked for - everything Dai Atlas struggled for - gone! Does... that mean nothing to you?"
"It won't bring them back!" Madrigal subspaces the quartz crystal, wrapping his wings over his shoulders and crossing his arms over his chest. "You can't answer death with more death, that isn't how balance works!" He steps back again, giving Whetstone more room to gesture.
Whetstone might be kinda spiky and mildly ominous with his darkened features, but his bright blue optics look almost comical for how far they droop. Clearly his brows are furrowed. His gesturing hand curls into a fist, but it's not out of anger. Just confusion. "Then..." he begins softly, "How does balance work, to you?"
Madrigal's only curled further into himself the longer they've been in the room, plating clamped tight and wings motionlessly draped like a cape. It takes a few moments for him to regain composure, though he's taken to staring at the floor. "Theophany was how balance worked. All of us, together, creating a space of peace and equality. Not- not-" He stills, searching for the right words. "Destruction can't be balanced with destruction, b-because it's opposite is creation."
<FS3> Whetstone rolls Knighthood: Success. (7 6 3 2 5 2)
Whetstone isn't blind to Madrigal's admittedly noticable withdrawing. And stammering. His tension gives way to empathy, or an attempt at it. A Knight is compassionate. "Madrigal... I'm sorry I've made you upset. This is a topic I feel strongly about. Clearly you as well. We have differing views on how to attain harmony again. But with that said, we needn't speak of it. I guess I was hoping to rally Drift a bit."
"Just-" Madrigal shivers, featherblades clinking together. "Not... not with me. Around me or-" His opics flick up, a Knight needs to speak clearly. "I can't lose anyone else. We're all that's left here."
"I won't bring it up again. I imagine I won't ever get the chance to encounter him again, anyhow. I speak boisterously. Which is unbecoming of a servant of the Circle." Whetstone straightens his spine and folds his arms when his own words are repeated. "Yes, well. I promise not to distress you, should you ever wish to expand on that. I'll... see myself out."
Madrigal's antenna twitch, lifting up from their back-tilted state. "Wait!" His wings flick out to steady the half-trot forward, hands reaching out before curling back toward his chest. "Er- that is- Stay, maybe?" As angry as Madrigal was- still is- he really doesn't want to be alone either.
The dull ache near Whetstone's spark chamber lifts when Madrigal tells him to stay. He seems relieved to remain and talk, and even be invited to meditate. It sure is nice being able to speak freely of his entire way of life without fear of being judged.