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Entry tags:
Sad Max: Mistery Road 2: Feardome
Who: Verity and Prowl
Where: Far, far on the outskirts of Cybertron
When: A little over a month after this and this
What: Cybertron itself intervenes in Prowl and Verity's ongoing snit fit.
Warnings: Everything. TBD but this is planned to be a disturbing thread.
In the end, Verity left. She counted thirty four days that blurred into broken channel static where nothing changed within her self-imposed exile inside the four sterilized white walls under the continuous glare of fluorescent lights and constant watch of well meaning but overwhelming caregivers. Even when she was cleared to leave, Verity stuck around. Tinkering with her suit learning how to fix things instead of breaking and stockpiling information of whatever she could cherry pick from the near dead network. And still, she left. There was note - handwritten with soft curving letters in blue pen with two Xs and two Os at the bottom under the name from who it was from.
The sun rising light between the pitch black spires of this broken old city was a melancholic sight that weighed heavy like a stone settled in the spaces between her freshly mended ribs behind sore lungs. She watched the sunrise as she rolled a motorcycle retrofitted from a transport vehicle designed for minicons. Verity took one last look at the clinic white against the dust covered city before she shoulder the rucksack on her shoulders, nudged the kickstand up with her boot and stabbed the key into the ignitions. The engine roared to life and soon tired devoured the asphalt beneath it until tarmac turned to flat black dirt. Verity rode out, further and further until old Iacon sank beneath the horizon like a sunset set stark against the early morning.
Night was closing in around her and she hadn't stopped once. Out late Verity thumbed open the visor of her helmet and let the cold wind sting her eyes and whip between the spaces of her helmet through her sweat matted hair. With no destination in mind beyond 'the hell away from here' Verity had her flimsy ideas that changed on the hour what she was going to do when she needed to stop. Less than a mile in front of here there was a dark mass in the single headlight that almost looked like a forest. Better than passed out under a rock, she reasoned as she pressed down on the gas. Speeding down the expanse of the Cybertronian wastelands with a whole lot of nothing on all sides, Verity had tunnel vision on the mirage like wilds ahead of her and never felt for exhilaratingly alone.
And then she saw it.
First it came as a red flicker in the corner of her eye she chalked up to exhaustion - something catching the reflective surface of her helmet visor. Then it was in front of her and her blood froze and her heartbeat slowed to a crawl. Hunter O'Nion stood directly ahead of her only a few hundred meters down. Face deathly pale, expression slack even at this distant and eyes hidden under a that damned constant mess of ruddy hair of his. Verity swore, rammed the heel of her boot on the breaks and yanked the hand grips sideways. The front wheel wobbled and the back pulled the other way as the motorcycle rolled on his slide and sent Verity sliding on the dirt. The motorcycle slammed against a jagged rock pushing out of the ground and Verity came to a stop, rolling over until she could shakily crawl on her knees.
Helmet yanked off and tossed aside. Verity wildly looked around and against all her better judgement, spoke aloud to the empty night where all she could see in every direction was the wind picking up thin clouds of earth near the edge of the wilds.
"Hunter?"
Where: Far, far on the outskirts of Cybertron
When: A little over a month after this and this
What: Cybertron itself intervenes in Prowl and Verity's ongoing snit fit.
Warnings: Everything. TBD but this is planned to be a disturbing thread.
In the end, Verity left. She counted thirty four days that blurred into broken channel static where nothing changed within her self-imposed exile inside the four sterilized white walls under the continuous glare of fluorescent lights and constant watch of well meaning but overwhelming caregivers. Even when she was cleared to leave, Verity stuck around. Tinkering with her suit learning how to fix things instead of breaking and stockpiling information of whatever she could cherry pick from the near dead network. And still, she left. There was note - handwritten with soft curving letters in blue pen with two Xs and two Os at the bottom under the name from who it was from.
Ratchet
The code is a cipher - X3. The answer was on his shirt.
I'm sorry. -Verity xoxo
The sun rising light between the pitch black spires of this broken old city was a melancholic sight that weighed heavy like a stone settled in the spaces between her freshly mended ribs behind sore lungs. She watched the sunrise as she rolled a motorcycle retrofitted from a transport vehicle designed for minicons. Verity took one last look at the clinic white against the dust covered city before she shoulder the rucksack on her shoulders, nudged the kickstand up with her boot and stabbed the key into the ignitions. The engine roared to life and soon tired devoured the asphalt beneath it until tarmac turned to flat black dirt. Verity rode out, further and further until old Iacon sank beneath the horizon like a sunset set stark against the early morning.
Night was closing in around her and she hadn't stopped once. Out late Verity thumbed open the visor of her helmet and let the cold wind sting her eyes and whip between the spaces of her helmet through her sweat matted hair. With no destination in mind beyond 'the hell away from here' Verity had her flimsy ideas that changed on the hour what she was going to do when she needed to stop. Less than a mile in front of here there was a dark mass in the single headlight that almost looked like a forest. Better than passed out under a rock, she reasoned as she pressed down on the gas. Speeding down the expanse of the Cybertronian wastelands with a whole lot of nothing on all sides, Verity had tunnel vision on the mirage like wilds ahead of her and never felt for exhilaratingly alone.
And then she saw it.
First it came as a red flicker in the corner of her eye she chalked up to exhaustion - something catching the reflective surface of her helmet visor. Then it was in front of her and her blood froze and her heartbeat slowed to a crawl. Hunter O'Nion stood directly ahead of her only a few hundred meters down. Face deathly pale, expression slack even at this distant and eyes hidden under a that damned constant mess of ruddy hair of his. Verity swore, rammed the heel of her boot on the breaks and yanked the hand grips sideways. The front wheel wobbled and the back pulled the other way as the motorcycle rolled on his slide and sent Verity sliding on the dirt. The motorcycle slammed against a jagged rock pushing out of the ground and Verity came to a stop, rolling over until she could shakily crawl on her knees.
Helmet yanked off and tossed aside. Verity wildly looked around and against all her better judgement, spoke aloud to the empty night where all she could see in every direction was the wind picking up thin clouds of earth near the edge of the wilds.
"Hunter?"
I OWE YOU SO MANY TAGS
The SUV pauses at the edge of the sinkhole as Verity turns onto the denser path, before tentatively backing up and following her, his engine seeming to betray his change in mood.
"We need to stop."