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I'd also like to suggest reading Days Long Past by
haearnmouse which takes place in the same story line but far into the future.
Title: Under Clearer Skies
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2198
Characters: Octane, Smokescreen
In Response to:
elvenarchress’s Spiraling Out of Control, chapter 12, prompt 14. Sequel to With All Thy Mercies and A Warm and Tender Devil Soul.
Summary: A Decepticon and an Autobot meet in a bar. One remembers what the other wants to forget.
The light was a dim filter through the bar- dingy at its source and muddy where the shadows gathered thick below chairs and tables. None of the patrons spoke above a mumble and even that was only to the bartender. Each pretended everyone else didn’t exist, gazes passing sightlessly over faction symbols. It was a place where one went to be alone from the world.
Which was why Octane didn’t expect someone to sit at his elbow and say, “So here’s where you went off to.”
The cables at the base of his wings twitched. “Smokescreen,” he gritted back, “can’t say I’m glad to see you right now.”
“Mmm, that’s a pity,” Smokescreen raised a finger to the bartender who mutely grabbed a container of energon. It was plopped down in front of the Autobot but the bartender made no motion to remove his hand until Smokescreen paid up. “It’s been a while since you’ve been in contact with any of our mutual associates.”
“I’m pulling out of the information schtick. I’m sticking to straight fuel supply.”
“Really?” Smokescreen sipped at his energon, made a face and continued sipping anyway. “Your boss okay with that?”
The triplechanger gave a humorless smile. “I’m a better transporter than I am an informer. ‘Sides, you know why I went into that business in the first place.”
His answering smile was soft and sympathetic. “I know. Heard you gave up on him, too.”
The word made Octane’s internals twist up. It sounded like all that time, all that effort, all the pain he endured didn’t mean anything in the end. And maybe they didn’t, but Octane didn’t want to believe it was all a waste. He took a gulp of his energon. The impure compounds gave it a sharp, bitter taste. The parallel wasn’t lost to him. “Wasn’t doing me any good.”
“That took a lot of courage, you know. Being able to recognize that and make yourself step back from it.”
Octane grunted in reply.
“You never told him.”
His hand twitched over his container. “Told him what?”
“What happened.”
His internals went cold. “What happened?”
In response, Smokescreen shook his head. “Lay off, Octane- I only worked down the block from him back then. One day he’s telling me all about you and this grand idea you had and how you only had one more fuel run to do before you had the credits for the two of you to move to Nova Cronum, then all of the sudden he can’t remember who you are? Or why he’d want to leave Stanix in the first place? And you think I wouldn’t figure out what happened?”
Octane’s hands shook. He clamped them tight on the bar top, hoping Smokescreen couldn’t see him trembling, but the Autobot didn’t have to. “What difference would it have made,” he asked bitterly. “If I told him about it, so what? It wouldn’t have changed anything.” Octane slouched down, trying to find refuge from the memory he desperately didn’t want. “Telling him only would’ve upset him anyway.”
At his elbow Smokescreen waited patiently, watched carefully.
“You know how he gets when someone brings up basically anything that has to do with his past, especially about things he’d forgotten. Not like you could blame him- who’d want to be reminded of all the chunks of their life being wiped from their memory without their consent? I don’t know how anyone could stand knowing that- I don’t know how you can stand it.”
Smokescreen said nothing.
The half-empty container of energon swirled, throwing little prisms of light against the bar top. Octane said, weight heavy on his arms. “It wouldn’t have changed anything if I told him. He wouldn’t be able to remember any of it, it’d just be another part of his life stolen from him forever.” He laughed bitterly. “It’d be kinder if I never told him.”
Then all those memories, all the love and hope and time the two had shared together would be a memory only Octane could keep. Same with the pain and fury and hopelessness of having it all taken away. The betrayal of going up to the person he loved and not being remembered in the slightest, of offering to start a new life somewhere else and being asked ‘why’. “He doesn’t need that.”
“He knows.”
Octane’s head jerked around. “What?”
“He knows. I told him.”
Smokescreen let out a yelp of pain, suddenly jerked sideways by Octane yanking on a doorwing. “You told him?”
One of the Autobots in the back was suddenly watching them very closely, on the verge of getting up. “Do you mind?” Smokescreen hissed at the Decepticon. Numbly, Octane’s hand opened and Smokescreen twisted a bit, flexing the doorwing to make sure it wasn’t damaged. He took that time to make optic contact with the other Autobot, silently communicating that he needed no help. “Yes,” he told Octane stiffly, “I told him. Because he knew he was missing something. You’re not a bad actor or liar, Octane, but against pros you’re painfully obvious.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t even realize all the times you slipped up, do you?” A half grin was on Smokescreen’s lips, turning his mouth into an incredulous curve. “The memory of your first meeting with him is completely different from his. You remember him when he still worked as a host, when Straigthaway was still wiping his memory to keep him naïve and new and sane. He remembers you long after the den was razed to the ground and he struck out on his own. After he became aware and bitter and manipulative. And what do you do? You make little mentions of how he used to smile and laugh and before his upgrades made him so much larger.
“You know when Straightaway had his memories of you wiped off, she had the specialist put up a block that would keep him from developing any real relationship with you. I know you know that because she wanted to make sure you knew about it. And yet, up you come and Sandstorm didn’t even have to try and seduce you because he knew you were- somehow –in love with him before the two of you even met. And you really think he wouldn’t realize he was missing something important?”
Octane’s hands curled into fists that trembled, expression raw. “Then… why? Why didn’t he ever tell me he knew?”
“Because it wouldn’t change anything, would it? He still can’t remember those times and he can’t force himself to feel anything for you.”
“Then… all those times… when he-“
“He asked me after he settled into the Wreckers- after he learned how to care about someone other than himself again.” Smokescreen turned away from the triplechanger, gaze distant and full of angry memories that bore into the bartop. “He told me that, even if he wanted to try fighting that reprogramming… every time he thought of you he felt nothing. Not even distaste. To him, your existence doesn’t matter and the more he tried to fight it the angrier he got. At Straightaway, at the specialist, at himself… And he felt guilty because he couldn’t care about you. He didn’t say anything because he thought it would be kinder if you didn’t know.”
“Then why are you telling me now?”
“Because I want you to know, even though he can’t care about you, even if you can’t have a relationship with him the way you want to, he does know what kind of mech you are. He knows you won’t force yourself on him, that you won’t manipulate things to get your way. When it comes to him, he knows that you’re trustworthy and caring.”
Octane’s expression was pensive. “Do you even know how he tried to thank me?”
“I know,” came the mild answer. “Just because he knows you’re not exactly like the others, the concept of reciprocated love is still new to him. He knew you wanted him willingly, so he went to you willingly. He just didn’t get it also meant you wanted him to want you back.
“Now that he knows how much you do care… it really frustrates him because he can’t feel anything for you, no matter how hard he tries.” Smokescreen reached out and squeezed at Octane’s hand. “It’s really unfair, isn’t it? Our lives were just one person after another, screwing us over. Kind of ironic that the war actually saved us.”
The Decepticon said nothing, just squeezed Smokescreen’s hand before slipping his own away.
“I just gotta wonder- and I don’t mean to be cruel but…” the blue and red mech cycled air through his systems, “do you really love Sandstorm, or were you just trying to make up for what happened?”
Octane spluttered. “Make- what-“
“I’m serious. Is it love or guilt? Don’t get me wrong- I know you loved Sandstorm when you two first met, but he’s nothing like the Sandstorm he is now and neither of them were what he was like when he remembers first meeting you. Three different Sandstorms, Octane. Do you really love them all?”
“The first one, absolutely.” Still did love him. “The second… No. I hated the second one, there was nothing in the second one that was anything like who he was and the third…”
Suddenly Octane’s shoulders slumped and he looked at Smokescreen, coming to a realization that seemed to shake his entire world. “He’s not coming back, is he? The Sandstorm I fell in love with. There’s no way to get him back.”
“No.”
He let out a gasp or a sob that was almost like Octane’s spark breaking if not for the sound of relief deep within. “I spent… spent so long, wished so hard, wanted so… so badly to save him, t-to turn him back to the Sandstorm I remembered…”
“You’re in love with the memory of him.”
“And I can’t ever get him back.” He cradled his head in his hands, a little bit of hysterical laughter bubbling in his vocalizer. “He’s changed too much and I didn’t want to believe that. All that wasted time because I didn’t want to believe he was gone… I had my one chance to save him, to give him a better life and I messed it up because I didn’t think things through, I didn’t think about how much Straightaway wouldn’t give him up and I didn’t want to believe that…”
Smokescreen reached out and took Octane’s hand again. This time he wasn’t going to let go. “It’s hardly your fault she went to such extremes. Maybe you should’ve known and kept it all a secret, but she would’ve found somehow. Even if you couldn’t help him then, he has a new life now and it’s changed him in ways I was afraid to hope for.”
“I know.” And this smile, through the pain and grief, had an edge of relief. “His team really saved him. And Fireflight… Fireflight’s everything to him, isn’t he?”
“He really is.”
Though his grip shook, Octane’s hand still clenched tight at Smokescreen’s fingers. “I’m not what he needs, not anymore. Might never have been.”
“You’re someone he can trust. And as this is Sandstorm, that is not insignificant.”
They sat for some time, neither moving, with their hands wrapped around each other’s. They sat until Octane stopped trembling, until he accepted that this was what his life had become and he felt he could speak without breaking down.
“Maybe one day,” his tone was a little rough along the edges, “maybe then I’ll…”
“Don’t push yourself. Just let what happens happen. If you can’t, he understands. If you can, I’m sure he’ll look forward to it.”
Octane nodded, revving his internals to get the thick feeling out of his vocalizer. “So,” he tried to sound nonchalant and ended up being absolutely nothing but obvious and awkward, “you’ll keep an optic on him?”
“I’ll look after him,” Smokescreen assured with smile. “I’ll try to keep him from messing this thing up entirely but… well…”
“I know.” But Sandstorm had someone looking out for him- had several someones looking out for him and every single one of them could do a much better job than Octane ever could. He downed the last of his energon. “Thanks.”
Smokescreen’s hand squeezed his one last time and the smile he gave Octane assured him that this really was the right thing to do. “You’re a good mech, Octane.”
“For a Decepticon?”
“For anyone. You ever need to talk, give me a call. I’ll see if I can’t free myself up for you.”
“Thanks, Smokescreen. I mean it.” And he truly did.
He left the bar and stood out in the street, looking up at the empty sky. His spark still weighed heavy inside of him, emotions knotted and afraid to be released. But Octane knew his whole life lay out before him. He didn’t know how long it would take- perhaps even an eternity –but he took his first step on that road, no longer chasing after shadows and memories. He took his second step and hoped, somehow, that he would not falter.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Title: Under Clearer Skies
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2198
Characters: Octane, Smokescreen
In Response to:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Summary: A Decepticon and an Autobot meet in a bar. One remembers what the other wants to forget.
The light was a dim filter through the bar- dingy at its source and muddy where the shadows gathered thick below chairs and tables. None of the patrons spoke above a mumble and even that was only to the bartender. Each pretended everyone else didn’t exist, gazes passing sightlessly over faction symbols. It was a place where one went to be alone from the world.
Which was why Octane didn’t expect someone to sit at his elbow and say, “So here’s where you went off to.”
The cables at the base of his wings twitched. “Smokescreen,” he gritted back, “can’t say I’m glad to see you right now.”
“Mmm, that’s a pity,” Smokescreen raised a finger to the bartender who mutely grabbed a container of energon. It was plopped down in front of the Autobot but the bartender made no motion to remove his hand until Smokescreen paid up. “It’s been a while since you’ve been in contact with any of our mutual associates.”
“I’m pulling out of the information schtick. I’m sticking to straight fuel supply.”
“Really?” Smokescreen sipped at his energon, made a face and continued sipping anyway. “Your boss okay with that?”
The triplechanger gave a humorless smile. “I’m a better transporter than I am an informer. ‘Sides, you know why I went into that business in the first place.”
His answering smile was soft and sympathetic. “I know. Heard you gave up on him, too.”
The word made Octane’s internals twist up. It sounded like all that time, all that effort, all the pain he endured didn’t mean anything in the end. And maybe they didn’t, but Octane didn’t want to believe it was all a waste. He took a gulp of his energon. The impure compounds gave it a sharp, bitter taste. The parallel wasn’t lost to him. “Wasn’t doing me any good.”
“That took a lot of courage, you know. Being able to recognize that and make yourself step back from it.”
Octane grunted in reply.
“You never told him.”
His hand twitched over his container. “Told him what?”
“What happened.”
His internals went cold. “What happened?”
In response, Smokescreen shook his head. “Lay off, Octane- I only worked down the block from him back then. One day he’s telling me all about you and this grand idea you had and how you only had one more fuel run to do before you had the credits for the two of you to move to Nova Cronum, then all of the sudden he can’t remember who you are? Or why he’d want to leave Stanix in the first place? And you think I wouldn’t figure out what happened?”
Octane’s hands shook. He clamped them tight on the bar top, hoping Smokescreen couldn’t see him trembling, but the Autobot didn’t have to. “What difference would it have made,” he asked bitterly. “If I told him about it, so what? It wouldn’t have changed anything.” Octane slouched down, trying to find refuge from the memory he desperately didn’t want. “Telling him only would’ve upset him anyway.”
At his elbow Smokescreen waited patiently, watched carefully.
“You know how he gets when someone brings up basically anything that has to do with his past, especially about things he’d forgotten. Not like you could blame him- who’d want to be reminded of all the chunks of their life being wiped from their memory without their consent? I don’t know how anyone could stand knowing that- I don’t know how you can stand it.”
Smokescreen said nothing.
The half-empty container of energon swirled, throwing little prisms of light against the bar top. Octane said, weight heavy on his arms. “It wouldn’t have changed anything if I told him. He wouldn’t be able to remember any of it, it’d just be another part of his life stolen from him forever.” He laughed bitterly. “It’d be kinder if I never told him.”
Then all those memories, all the love and hope and time the two had shared together would be a memory only Octane could keep. Same with the pain and fury and hopelessness of having it all taken away. The betrayal of going up to the person he loved and not being remembered in the slightest, of offering to start a new life somewhere else and being asked ‘why’. “He doesn’t need that.”
“He knows.”
Octane’s head jerked around. “What?”
“He knows. I told him.”
Smokescreen let out a yelp of pain, suddenly jerked sideways by Octane yanking on a doorwing. “You told him?”
One of the Autobots in the back was suddenly watching them very closely, on the verge of getting up. “Do you mind?” Smokescreen hissed at the Decepticon. Numbly, Octane’s hand opened and Smokescreen twisted a bit, flexing the doorwing to make sure it wasn’t damaged. He took that time to make optic contact with the other Autobot, silently communicating that he needed no help. “Yes,” he told Octane stiffly, “I told him. Because he knew he was missing something. You’re not a bad actor or liar, Octane, but against pros you’re painfully obvious.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t even realize all the times you slipped up, do you?” A half grin was on Smokescreen’s lips, turning his mouth into an incredulous curve. “The memory of your first meeting with him is completely different from his. You remember him when he still worked as a host, when Straigthaway was still wiping his memory to keep him naïve and new and sane. He remembers you long after the den was razed to the ground and he struck out on his own. After he became aware and bitter and manipulative. And what do you do? You make little mentions of how he used to smile and laugh and before his upgrades made him so much larger.
“You know when Straightaway had his memories of you wiped off, she had the specialist put up a block that would keep him from developing any real relationship with you. I know you know that because she wanted to make sure you knew about it. And yet, up you come and Sandstorm didn’t even have to try and seduce you because he knew you were- somehow –in love with him before the two of you even met. And you really think he wouldn’t realize he was missing something important?”
Octane’s hands curled into fists that trembled, expression raw. “Then… why? Why didn’t he ever tell me he knew?”
“Because it wouldn’t change anything, would it? He still can’t remember those times and he can’t force himself to feel anything for you.”
“Then… all those times… when he-“
“He asked me after he settled into the Wreckers- after he learned how to care about someone other than himself again.” Smokescreen turned away from the triplechanger, gaze distant and full of angry memories that bore into the bartop. “He told me that, even if he wanted to try fighting that reprogramming… every time he thought of you he felt nothing. Not even distaste. To him, your existence doesn’t matter and the more he tried to fight it the angrier he got. At Straightaway, at the specialist, at himself… And he felt guilty because he couldn’t care about you. He didn’t say anything because he thought it would be kinder if you didn’t know.”
“Then why are you telling me now?”
“Because I want you to know, even though he can’t care about you, even if you can’t have a relationship with him the way you want to, he does know what kind of mech you are. He knows you won’t force yourself on him, that you won’t manipulate things to get your way. When it comes to him, he knows that you’re trustworthy and caring.”
Octane’s expression was pensive. “Do you even know how he tried to thank me?”
“I know,” came the mild answer. “Just because he knows you’re not exactly like the others, the concept of reciprocated love is still new to him. He knew you wanted him willingly, so he went to you willingly. He just didn’t get it also meant you wanted him to want you back.
“Now that he knows how much you do care… it really frustrates him because he can’t feel anything for you, no matter how hard he tries.” Smokescreen reached out and squeezed at Octane’s hand. “It’s really unfair, isn’t it? Our lives were just one person after another, screwing us over. Kind of ironic that the war actually saved us.”
The Decepticon said nothing, just squeezed Smokescreen’s hand before slipping his own away.
“I just gotta wonder- and I don’t mean to be cruel but…” the blue and red mech cycled air through his systems, “do you really love Sandstorm, or were you just trying to make up for what happened?”
Octane spluttered. “Make- what-“
“I’m serious. Is it love or guilt? Don’t get me wrong- I know you loved Sandstorm when you two first met, but he’s nothing like the Sandstorm he is now and neither of them were what he was like when he remembers first meeting you. Three different Sandstorms, Octane. Do you really love them all?”
“The first one, absolutely.” Still did love him. “The second… No. I hated the second one, there was nothing in the second one that was anything like who he was and the third…”
Suddenly Octane’s shoulders slumped and he looked at Smokescreen, coming to a realization that seemed to shake his entire world. “He’s not coming back, is he? The Sandstorm I fell in love with. There’s no way to get him back.”
“No.”
He let out a gasp or a sob that was almost like Octane’s spark breaking if not for the sound of relief deep within. “I spent… spent so long, wished so hard, wanted so… so badly to save him, t-to turn him back to the Sandstorm I remembered…”
“You’re in love with the memory of him.”
“And I can’t ever get him back.” He cradled his head in his hands, a little bit of hysterical laughter bubbling in his vocalizer. “He’s changed too much and I didn’t want to believe that. All that wasted time because I didn’t want to believe he was gone… I had my one chance to save him, to give him a better life and I messed it up because I didn’t think things through, I didn’t think about how much Straightaway wouldn’t give him up and I didn’t want to believe that…”
Smokescreen reached out and took Octane’s hand again. This time he wasn’t going to let go. “It’s hardly your fault she went to such extremes. Maybe you should’ve known and kept it all a secret, but she would’ve found somehow. Even if you couldn’t help him then, he has a new life now and it’s changed him in ways I was afraid to hope for.”
“I know.” And this smile, through the pain and grief, had an edge of relief. “His team really saved him. And Fireflight… Fireflight’s everything to him, isn’t he?”
“He really is.”
Though his grip shook, Octane’s hand still clenched tight at Smokescreen’s fingers. “I’m not what he needs, not anymore. Might never have been.”
“You’re someone he can trust. And as this is Sandstorm, that is not insignificant.”
They sat for some time, neither moving, with their hands wrapped around each other’s. They sat until Octane stopped trembling, until he accepted that this was what his life had become and he felt he could speak without breaking down.
“Maybe one day,” his tone was a little rough along the edges, “maybe then I’ll…”
“Don’t push yourself. Just let what happens happen. If you can’t, he understands. If you can, I’m sure he’ll look forward to it.”
Octane nodded, revving his internals to get the thick feeling out of his vocalizer. “So,” he tried to sound nonchalant and ended up being absolutely nothing but obvious and awkward, “you’ll keep an optic on him?”
“I’ll look after him,” Smokescreen assured with smile. “I’ll try to keep him from messing this thing up entirely but… well…”
“I know.” But Sandstorm had someone looking out for him- had several someones looking out for him and every single one of them could do a much better job than Octane ever could. He downed the last of his energon. “Thanks.”
Smokescreen’s hand squeezed his one last time and the smile he gave Octane assured him that this really was the right thing to do. “You’re a good mech, Octane.”
“For a Decepticon?”
“For anyone. You ever need to talk, give me a call. I’ll see if I can’t free myself up for you.”
“Thanks, Smokescreen. I mean it.” And he truly did.
He left the bar and stood out in the street, looking up at the empty sky. His spark still weighed heavy inside of him, emotions knotted and afraid to be released. But Octane knew his whole life lay out before him. He didn’t know how long it would take- perhaps even an eternity –but he took his first step on that road, no longer chasing after shadows and memories. He took his second step and hoped, somehow, that he would not falter.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-21 01:21 am (UTC)Oh, Primus! That was . . . just utterly brutal. And amazing as far as closure for Octane.
And it explained a whole fragging lot.
I should say more. I can't. I'm completely and utterly drained. But like Octane, in a relieved way---I'm glad you did it this way, I'm glad he realized that it was the memory that he was in love with, and that even though he couldn't save Sandstorm, someone had, and that's the important thing.
The thing with Straightaway, the timing, just broke my heart. I read Thing With No Talent's Aerialbots fic, the chapter with Slingshot sneaking away money to save up and escape, and this reminds me so much of that---I was haunted after I read that one by the what-ifs, regarding Sling being found out. And this is one where the worst actually did happen, and---it's horrifying, but I'm not scared anymore, so much. It happened and Sandstorm lived, and that opportunity was lost but others came along.
Octane DID do something for Sandstorm before, though---he gave him a way to join the Wreckers on his own terms, sort of, after Springer tried to extort him into it. Join the Decepticons (thus becoming safe from being arrested), and then decide his own loyalties.
I hope someday somebody figures out how to undo that block---just because it's utterly abhorrent to me that a sentient being could be limited like that, and I'd bet it would be equally abhorrent to the Autobots, such that some medic (First Aid, maybe) might devote some significant amount of spare time to developing a way to undo such things, just because such a devastating weapon should have a treatment, to limit its use in the future. And that would at least let him care about Octane, end that frustration.
You know? I think I can almost see Fireflight going off on Straightaway like Megatron or Motormaster or one of the more vicious interrogators, given the relevant knowledge and opportunity.
It'd be absolutely lovely if someone, sometime, found out that the tiniest little bits of processor, the parts that each form a one or a zero in our coding, somehow hold a signature of every way they were programmed, in order, so that somebody could read that and tell what the memories were, and translate that onto other memory chips so that all the memories one ever had were restored.
Not that I'm actively wishing for Octane/Sandstorm anymore, but it'd be nice if he someday got that memory, way off in the future, and they could smile at the good times together. Get some comfort over that it did happen, and the past is the present at another time.
And I say I can't say anything, and then I yammer off on half a dozen different tangents and what-ifs. I guess you're inspiring, as well as incredibly talented.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-21 04:12 am (UTC)The sad part is that, if it weren't for the war, neither Smokescreen or Sandstorm would've left that kind of life. Probably a lot of others that had a life like that, probably a lot of others that still haven't left, either.
I don't know if anyone would really be able to undo to undo that block and even if they did manage to it would involve getting into and manipulating things in the head which Sandstorm would probably never be able to abide by.
Thank you for another long review, I'm very happy that you and so many others enjoyed the series.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-21 04:18 am (UTC)(Insert line about evil containing the seeds of its own destruction.)
I could see Sandstorm getting just that pissed that he can't feel anything, and just going "Knock me out and DO IT." (On the other hand, don't mind me, this is how I deal with any sort of angst, I brainstorm about how to fix it.)
I'm curious about something: did Octane kill Straightaway? I'd be surprised if he didn't, possibly in some slow and horrible fashion after making Straightaway know why.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-21 05:14 am (UTC)The line about the den being razed to the ground... it was actually a fire that not only burnt down the den, because of the low interest of the public sector for the slums it probably destroyed a number of blocks before they decided it important enough to stop. No real investigation was done to find the cause but, if you ask Smokescreen, he'd guess it was Sandstorm that did it. Likely he had finally realized what was being done to him and carefully planned it all out because not only was Straightaway killed in the fire, but Sandstorm had vanished. And when he next resurfaced, he had a new frame, the battlemask and was suddenly a force in the underground.
It would've been that resurfacing that brought him back to both Octane and Smokescreen's attentions. But yes, Straightaway certainly deserved it (even if i created the character to be terrible and hated, i still hate her so damn much DX)
no subject
Date: 2009-01-21 05:33 am (UTC)(even if i created the character to be terrible and hated, i still hate her so damn much DX)
You did a good job of it, probably one of the best I've seen, and with only a few lines devoted to her personally.
Good for Sandstorm, if he did.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-21 04:13 am (UTC)I feel kind of...relieved, almost, that this is (almost, getting there, sort of, maybe?) over. Not because I didn't enjoy the story, but because it's just...it's kind of like I'm feeling how the weight is slowly being lifted from Octane's shoulders. Piece by little piece. And sometimes it's being lifted in larger pieces, like here in this story.
I think that's why this one, this story, left something a bit deeper emotionally than the others. (Not to say that the others were by any means emotionally 'stunted', because they most definitely weren't in my opinion, but this one just sort of hit harder than the others. At least, it did me.) Here is where Octane seems to really realize that it's over with Sandstorm and now that little bit of hope is gone. It's like someone rebreaking a bone so it can heal properly, maybe. Octane's bone healed wrong, and he kept picking at it and picking at it, and someone finally said enough was enough and made an effort at fixing it up properly. Does that make any sense? Of course, I could just be barking up the wrong tree over here.
Somehow, though, it really seemed right that Smokescreen was the one to give this talk. Just...someone who was there and kind of, maybe, understands things a bit better than pretty much anyone else could. I guess. Mostly, it's just Smokescreen who fits here, his personality and way of handling things. I'm utterly convinced that there's no one else who could have done this half as well.
So, yeah, I have this feeling of relief for Octane. Just...like this huge weight I didn't really realize was there was just lifted off of my shoulders. It's a good feeling, though the horror of what, exactly, Sandstorm went through kind of overrides that. Almost. His memory? I knew it had happened but...I didn't realize it was like that. Constant memory wipes...
And being completely unable to feel anything for another person. Not even a vague sense of liking or disliking or...anything *shudders*
I can kind of understand bits about Sandstorm and why he is the way he is now. Just a little. Maybe.
And realize how much of a miracle it is that he's opened up this much to Fireflight, for Fireflight. Also, why the Wreckers are so tense and worried that he's going to screw that relationship up. Didn't really understand before, but now that I have an idea on the Sandstorm-before-Fireflight(-and-before-Wreckers) I kind of get it...
Thank you very much for writing. I'm sorry for the ramble ^^;
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Date: 2009-01-21 05:24 am (UTC)Smokescreen is... very much in the perfect position for this. Because he knows exactly what the both of them went through, knew them both during that time and cans till be considered the neutral one in the whole mess. He understands the both of them and he knows all the little pieces either side is missing.
In one of the chapters of Destruction it talked briefly about these forced memory wipes of Sandstorm's and how he had some corrupt circuits because of it. Who knows how many more wipes he would've been able to endure before his processors were permanently damaged, before he became just another Empty wandering aimlessly on the street. One of the many things that scares Sandstorm to death.
Knowing the kind of past Sandstorm has really shows just why the unconditional brotherhood of the Wreckers could change him as well as Fireflight being, well, Fireflight is so important.
I'm very glad to hear that you enjoyed it. I don't mind the rambling at all, shows just how much this moved you and for that, I'm thankful to know^^
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Date: 2009-01-21 08:27 pm (UTC)*sorry I'm having such a blonde moment - moving will do that to you*
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Date: 2009-01-21 11:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-22 02:48 am (UTC)What a closure for Octane, to finally release the hope he'd been holding onto for so long. I am really glad Smokescreen took that step and forced Octane to listen and think.
Great final chapter on this, thank you very much.
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Date: 2009-01-29 07:43 pm (UTC)Thank you for the reply and I'm actually really glad for this chapter, too. Mainly I'm glad I was talked into writing it. I had an inkling when the idea was brought up that Octane needed this but I didn't know how much until it was done.
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Date: 2009-01-29 02:07 pm (UTC)I'm hating Sideways a lot right now... Can I say I'm glad she's dead?
that the war actually helped uplift the lives of some people probably wouldn't go over too well with most of the Autobots...so I guess it's a good thing very few know though that means they end up misjudging Sandy and probably Smokey too...
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Date: 2009-01-29 07:53 pm (UTC)Honestly it's very much impossible to say that nothing good can come out of war and that makes a lot of people uncomfortable. Because of all the death and destruction and the so many different ways it mess people up, the idea that advancements and creating a better system can almost be seen as using someone elses' hardships to get ahead. That and the idea that someone's lifestyle had improved, it forces you to realize just how terrible their life was before and the fact that you willingly turned a blind eye to it. It would definitely make other Autobots- especially those that now know them well -uncomfortable to hear. It's a good thing those two don't like to talk about it.
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Date: 2009-06-16 07:10 am (UTC)Poor Octane, It must be aweful for him to know the person he loves the most can't feel anything back. But the ending is what brought me near to tears, how he starts really moving forward...
Also, off topic, but I was vaugle thinking of Sandy and Flight earlier and this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eI2Hx_As2y0 came on over the radio... Wierd...