capitalh | you want a revelation

Who: Orion Pax and Arcee
Where: THE ROD POD
When: March 17 probably like just after midnight.
What: Once the AI is taken out Orion can finally stop trying to break things inside of the Rod Pod. Or as much as he could while being down two limbs and starving to death anyway. He's concerned about being captured by Autobots, and the Autobots are concerned about how he isn't one.
Warnings: FUCK

He stays unconscious for a good long while after the fight, but not long enough. When he finds consciousness again, after sucking dry what was left of his natural energon stores, the rest unfolds like a confusing dream. He's been locked inside what appears to be a small vessel. On one hand, it doesn't look anything like the place he was before. On the other, the implant is still there and the driver is not happy.

Time passes in a haze, his will and the AI's running together in a dizzying mess. He finds himself lashing out ineffectually with his remaining to limbs. Then he finds himself just trying to hide and disappear. He isn't saved, after all. He knows who took him.

It was a relief at the time, but he's just been taken by another enemy. Even if he'd take just about anything over the one that had him before.

It's hours before it full stops, and he isn't sure of the transition. One moment he just wakes up to silence and an empty head - and oh so much pain. He hadn't realized how muffled everything was before, but now his whole body is aching with energon starvation and dislodged joints.

Hiding isn't going to accomplish anything, but it's the only thing he can think of to do. He sits in a corner, his broken leg resting at an aggressively wonky angle, and his good arm defensively braced around his chest.

He'll see how much they want to save him, he thinks, when they realize he isn't who they wanted. He doesn't have the energy left to deceive.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It makes Arcee's spark heave to see him so wrought with emotion over this -- over Megatron. But she can't even bring herself to be angry over that. It was never any secret, Optimus's past ties to Megatron. The betrayal of one of his closest confidantes had always motivated him to find a way to bring an end to the war.

"I know," Arcee says, surprisingly gently, but her voice is still thick with resignation, full of emotion of her own. "I know. But it's been seven thousand years, Orion. Some people...some people change. Not Alpha Trion, no -- but..."

It's a waste of trying to convince him only on her word, though. With only a flicker of hesitation, she draws closer again, this time to disconnect the infusion pump. Her hands are slow, careful; memories or no, Matrix or no, he is obviously still someone she cares a great deal about. "There's a stack of datapads next to my recharge slab. Autobot records, journals, research...some of it came from the archives at Iacon itself. If you really want to know what happened, Orion -- if you're really concerned with the truth...I think you owe it to yourself to look at both sides of the story. Draw your own conclusions. Don't let me -- or Megatron -- decide for you."

The offer gives him an uneasy feeling, and it doesn't take him long to reader that it's because he's afraid of being wrong. Afraid of what that betrayal would mean. He's not one for self delusion, though, and if anything that realization makes him more inclined to learn as much as he can. Megatron will have his faith, and that won't change. It's a question of whether fact can prove him wrong.

He doesn't understand how he could be wrong, though. Everything in his heart is telling him he can't be.

"I will read whatever resources you have to offer," he says tiredly, gaze lowering hazily. "...But I will not decide anything before speaking to him again."

"That's your prerogative," Arcee says, her voice quiet and heavy. "If that's what you need to do...you do whatever you have to, Orion."

She really doesn't know how this is all going to play out. She doesn't know how he's going to talk to Megatron and how that's not going to end poorly for all of them. She doesn't know how many Decepticons are on this planet, but the Autobots are a wreck without a medic, and they won't be able to withstand much of an assault if it comes down to it. And when it comes to Megatron, there's no doubt in her mind that there'd be an assault.

Arcee can't think about that now, though. Not yet. She can't worry about it, not when they're still picking themselves up after that fight, not when she's still reeling from this revelation. She just gathers up the infusion pump and stows it in the first aid kit, wincing slightly as she crouches and rises again. She'd gotten off easy in that fight, but the dented plating on her abdomen doesn't make for the easiest of movement.

"I meant what I said before. If you really want to leave, once you're well enough to do so...I won't stop you. I'm not going to lock you in here, either." She's not sure the others will agree with that decision, but she has no intention of making Orion their prisoner. That's not what they came here for. "If you need anything, I won't be going far."

She hesitates, gathering up the first aid kit and the empty energon cubes in her arms, leaving a few full ones behind for him. Her optics settle back on his face. Strange, she thinks, how he can look so much like someone she's known and trusted for thousands of years, someone who's always had her unwavering loyalty. Strange how so much has changed when she wasn't looking, how there's no light of recognition in his optics now.

"My name is Arcee," she says, and her voice catches in her vocalizer before she resets it. Somehow, telling him her name is so much harder than the rest of this. "If you need anything, just...ask for me."

He's still lost somewhere between being earnestly sympathetic and feeling obligated to be contrary. Like he needs to challenge what is being offered here, and to be assertive about his place in things. Really, it shouldn't take much conviction to be concerned by his own broken limbs, but that is the sort of mental place he's been inhabiting recently.

"I don't know what materials you have available," he says, slowly. "But something to stabilize my damaged limbs would be appreciated." Being able to stand, even if it's on a splint, would be nice.

A guilty look flits across her face, only for a moment, because right now she wishes they had proper medical facilities, a proper medic. She knows they did what they had to do to bring him back here, but it doesn't make her feel any better about the state he's in now.

"I'll see what I can do," she says, and it sounds like a genuine promise. "I don't know what we have, but...I'll see if we can put something together for you." She hesitates, sighing out air through her vents. "Are you in a lot of pain? I could probably find something to give you for it."

"Less than I have been in recently," he says darkly, looking away. "But I have no desire to suffer further out of pride. I will take whatever you can offer."

There has been so much to take in. It's hard to imagine that only a short time ago he was still in shackles in that prison. He's never had to deal with something like this before and getting his head around it is difficult. He's hurt and angry in a way he doesn't feel like he can articulate, or even that he should articulate. Not to a stranger.

He wishes he wasn't so alone in this. Everything seems to rest on his shoulders.

It hurts. Arcee doesn't want to admit it, but it does. Now that the initial shock is starting to fade, little by little, and the weight of reality settles in, that's what it feels like. Without fault, without blame -- at least for anyone in this room -- it hurts. Arcee's gaze falls away, defeated, and she nods slowly.

"I'll be back," she promises, but her voice is subdued. She turns to leave, the clank of her feet on the floor louder than ever. It had been bad enough when Optimus had left to fight Unicron. Now...now, she really doesn't know how they're going to get through this.

He nods, but doesn't say anything. It's obvious how upset she is, and he's incapable of not caring about that. But he doesn't know what to do, and he doesn't have the energy to figure it out right now.

So instead he just leans back against the wall and closes his optics, trying not to think about the pain.

you want a revelation

8')

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