2018-05-12 Dying to Ask
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Dying to Ask|
|Summary||Lieutenant is awful, part 5.|
New Iacon looks nice from this angle on top of Tempo. Lieutenant wasn't quite fond of it before, but now (before it's likely destroyed again) it seems beautiful. The avian sits with his legs beside him, arm supporting him up as he's next to Cosmos. The friend that refers to him as a dumpster fire. That guy.
"Long story short," Lieutenant wraps up, "That is why I will never let an organic inside me again."
No words said that day were wrong, Cosmos would gladly call his friend a dumpster fire again... said jokingly with only pure friendly affection, of course! (no matter how true it may be) As the story comes to a wrap, Cosmos chokes down a snort from escaping his chassis- utterly unwilling to burst out laughing at the admission. "I Uh- pfft-" He shifts how he is lying on Tempo's hull, head snapping away so Lieutenant can't see the mirth in his visor, "Ok, I'll give you that one. I won't try to shove an organic into your alt anytime soon."
Gaining control of himself with a deep vent, Cosmos turns his face back to the stars that glint softly in the distance. The longer he stares, the more his good mood fades- the reality of what is going on settling like a stone in his gut once again. This could be their last time together, hanging out like this... "Hey, Lieutenant... I got a kind of depressing question for you." Lieutenant shakes his head at Cosmos' poor attempt to quell his laughter. He's glad his friend is amused though. Making others happy, even for a moment, almost makes one forget to be morose. The avian gently shoves his friend for laughing. "Best not, least you wish this friendship to cease."
Silence befalls the two of them once more. Lieutenant keeps his optics on the city, losing himself into the slice of life others must be living down there. Cosmos snaps him out of it with his question. "My speciality." he answers, turning his attention to the mech.
Cosmos doesn't ask immediately, hidden optics remaining fixed on the sky so far above. A flash of his hand and his Tarot deck is out, stalling for time as he slowly flips each card around and around before shuffling it back into the deck. He pauses as the Fool, his artifact, makes its way between his fingers after several seconds. He doesn't need to look to know which one it is, he can feel it like a piece of him- feeling too right in his grasp. Cosmos focuses on its feeling, that rare sense of rightness that it brings whenever he holds it... while making sure Lieutenant doesn't make any sort of grab for the thing. ".... Can you feel it?"
The UFO brings the card into his vision, gazing solemnly at the gleefully electric mech it sports, "Unicron approaching, I mean..." How can the Fool be so happy at a time like this?,<i> he thinks- a realization hitting him several seconds later, <i>.... Cosmos you're asking a question of an inanimate object.
The pause drags on, pilling on the concern Lieutenant has as to what might be on Cosmos' mind. Is it because of Unicron? Is there some sort of dying wish? Is there something wrong? His optics fall on the cards Cosmos pulls out, which has the avian lean away subtly. Artifacts are still deadly to him.
Can he feel it. Can he feel Unicron? Lieutenant takes a moment to think about it. To see if he can and tell how close the unmaker is. His optic shuts off to concentrate. "No." He finally answers, "In all honesty, since we arrived, I have not felt Unicron at all."
Cosmos nods, not really having expected one answer over another and continues to turn that artifact over and over- a soothing rhythm he has done many times sitting alone in his room. So Lieutenant can't feel Unicron's approach then, should that be a relief or concerning? However it feels, it doesn't eliviate any of Cosmos' worry over the approaching battle. "Think we'll survive this?"
That's a question he can't answer. Lieutenant refuses to answer, in fact. There are two outcomes he's hated to think of with each passing day. He's afraid they won't make it out alive. What if their one shot ends up doing nothing? What if it all ends where they stand? Worse, what if he lives without anyone else?
"Hopefully," answers the avian, "I do not know for certain." If they do survive, well, he knows he won't be around to see it. At least that's the better of the two options, in Lieutenant's mind. "Is there anything you still wish to do?"
Cosmos sighs, knowing that likely wouldnt get a straight answer either but hoping for one, "Well, I definitely don't plan to die if I can help it." I may not be able to help it though.... Light of his visor blinking out, Cosmos lets the card tap against his faceplates as he thinks, "Nothing I could possibly get done in a few days. And I'm sure as frag not going to try and rush to do them."
"Suppose that is a good point." Lieutenant replies, already having exhausted his bucket list ages ago. Besides, Unicron could arrive tomorrow or in a few hours. So whatever Cosmos would want to do might be interrupted. "Any requests that perhaps I could assist with?" Might as well offer, because one way or another, they're not going to be seeing each other again once Unicron hits.
Cosmos lies there a moment. "No." Deep in thought or simply digesting the conversation, the almost seeming finality of it, Cosmos stays frozen in that position. He wants to ask Lieutenant what will happen to him once Unicron comes but... He already knows. At the very least has a pretty good idea. They've already seen what happens when Lieutenant and Unicron mix.
This could be the last conversation Cosmos ever has with his friend... he refuses to let it stay sad, even if joy only scratches the surface. Forcing himself to sit up, Cosmos brightens his visor with false amusement, "Unless you could get mechs like Prowl to respect me!"
Lieutenant raises an optic ridge at his friend. "A bit of work, but it is not the most impossible request you could have given me." There are much harder things in life to give. Now actually getting Prowl to go along with this was something else. Primes. "In exchange," he replies, fishing through his subspace as he searches for something. Once found, he pulls out an embroidered veil and drapes it over Cosmos' helm. Just humor him.
Cosmos laughs as Lieutenant considers his request, a genuine one that bubbles up despite himself and the overbearing dread. Of course Lieutenant would respond like that! "I wish you luck on that endeavor." Prowl giving respect to him would be like turning Megatron Autobot, an unimaginable request. "But if that isn't the most impossible thing I would like to know what is!"
Lieutenant asks for something in exchange and COsmos braces himself, expecting a world of embarrassing or dreadful tasks he could have- .... wait, what? A veil placed carefully over his helm had been the last thing on Cosmos' mind when he was asked in exchange. Its a beautiful piece of work, he will give it that, with its careful embroidery... but why? Immediately suspicious, Cosmos tilts his helm at his friend with a silent question of his motives.
This is both confusing and concerning.
"I shall write a list of impossible challenges." But later on. Lieutenant tilts his head in response to Cosmos. Why is he looking at him like that? There are no ulterior motives here. Why the perplexity?
Oh! Right! The avian's optics brighten as it dawns on him, "Apologizes, you are not familiar with Tower trends. Veils were primarily worn to important social functions. Particularly in Iacon." His audio fins alternate their flicks to mimic a shrug motion. "I simply wanted to see what you would look like in one."
"So you wanted to see what I would look like if I was worth more than my 'special optics'?" Cosmos doesn't find himself any less perplexed, but deicdes he will humor Lieutenant. Its not often the other mech amuses himself... actually that is a lie- Lieutenant's form of amusement just tends to be to Cosmos' ire- but the UFO will indulge the mech. His hand reaches up to brush carefully along the fabric, immediately terrified he might rip the seemingly delicate material. It easily bends and twists in his grip, terrifying him every once and awhile as it threatens to catch in seams. It is most definitely not something he would choose to put on, his personal preference just being buffing and waxing for special events. "... So you just had this on you, eh?"
At least he isn't showering Cosmos with puns, or trying to fluster him by flirting. Lieutenant is going to spare his friend at least that much. "Sequin was mending an old outfit I had, and mixed with a recent event, I decided to request a few more pieces from him." Lieutenant holds his hand out to take back the veil. It's a delicate piece and it's actually meant for another. "I always like to have one outfit on hand, just in case a social event arises than I am requested to attend." Thankfully for Lieutenant, there aren't many- if any. "Just as anyone would a medkit, emergency rations, and reading materials."
Cosmos nods, gently removing the piece to hand it back to Lieutenant with all the care of an active bomb. "Sequin does great work, I'll give him that." Free of the potential Breaking-Fancy-Things-Stress, he leans back to look up at the sky yet again as the card resumes its pattern of twists and spins between his fingers. "Guess you have a point, I always have a datapad with games and TV show recordings." Space gets boring.
Lieutenant tucks away the veil neatly before standing up. "You should work on your cards as well. Might as well, as they could kill time as well as zombies." Just an input on his part as he idly walks around. He's no Windblade, but his senses can feel the living Titan they're on. It's something he may have gotten used to but still doesn't get old.
He walks over to the edge of Tempo's hull, feeling phantom itches where his wings once were. Lieutenant peers over the edge for a moment before stepping back. "Certainly is an impressive view." He comments.
<FS3> Cosmos rolls Reaction+Reaction: Success. (5 6 7 6)
Cosmos holds up his Tarot deck, brimming with confidence as he flares out the cards for Lieutenant to see, "Oh I have been working on it! Been practicing at night, check it out!" Snapping the cards back into a stack, Cosmos begins to rapidly shuffle the cards. Faster and faster he goes until he drags one hand out, the deck following in a wave pattern as he lets it collapse back into his other hand with a showy flourish. it may be a bit panicked, though, when several cards threaten to slip from the path with edges displaced from the rest. Wait- Slag! Quickly slapping his hands together, he manages to save the trick- barely but manages. Nailed it.
Cosmos looks up from his near botched trick to gave over the edge with Lieutenant, "Yeah, a way better view than it used to be."
Cosmos shows off his new stunt to Lieutenant who is rather impressed by it. Even the near blunder. Seems like Cosmos has been fiddling a lot with his cards since he got them. With all the fidgeting with them and tricks, they seem to be a new distraction. "Impressive." The avian comments with an added applaud.
As for the 'better view' of Iacon, Lieutenant can't really agree. Then again, he's one to cling to the past. He cherished Iacon for what it was back in the day. Certainly there have been improvements, but he doesn't feel it the same as before. So he doesn't respond to the statement.
Cosmos too falls into a silence, indeed using the cards as a partial distraction while they stare out over the city. This expanse of land, the city, even the people in it have changed so much over time. A large expansive plane to a destroyed mess to a less destroyed mess in the process of rebuilding. With any luck- aka if they survive Unicron- it will only become better as times goes on... maybe once again achieve the beauty it had before. "...Think we should head back inside soon?" Still so many preparations to be made, so many existential crisis to be had by the mechs rushing around like earth ants.
"We should." Lieutenant replies, taking another look at New Iacon, then down, down the edge of the hull. "You go ahead, I shall meet you later." He takes a few steps backwards. 'Just this once' he tells himself. Once, before there is no more Cybertron or Unicron to try it. The avian bolts, and takes a leap off the edge of Tempo. No wings to save him from his imminent demise. Nothing to save him from certain death.
It's just Lieutenant and gravity.
Cosmos stands, unnecessarily brushing off his plating as the deck disappears back into his subspace. A glance back towards the way in, dreadful of the oncoming preparations and the doom they remind all who take part of, distracts him long enough to not realize what exactly Lieutenant prepares to do. The avian runs past and jumps off the edge of Tempo. Oh he's going to glide down? Hm normally I don't see him using his... wing- "LIEUTENANT!" Cosmos rushes to the edge, grasping harshly at his own helm as distress and horror overtakes him- watching as Lieutenant goes hurtling towards the ground.
The near spark attack doesn't subside any when he remembers Lieutenant is undead, clutching at his pounding chassis as his vents roar and shake in panic. After a long minute of internal- and some external- screaming, he transforms to rush down to the ground and make sure the avian didn't just destroy what little form he has left. Why is he friends with Lieutenant!?