Nexus. A bench near a stone arch. A different take on things

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Threnody is unaware of the symphony of bird song occurring over her head and all around her. She's paying no mind to the local rodent population, though there's a squirrel sitting on her foot right at this moment. She has no attention to spare for the bright forms of the flowers that are scattered throughout the undergrowth and the grass of the little forest glade she's found. Most of her attention is focused on the tiny construction of paper and various colouring chemicals that she holds between her fingertips.

Cyclonus would be non-plussed, and Scourge would be quietly and uncomprehendingly supportive if they found her now, but she's used to those reactions when her friends find her with a book.

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She realizes that she's confused him and winces.

"I don't," she says firmly, but gently so as not to frighten him. "I'm only the small bit she left behind. What I meant was that we had been talking about her, and that mention of myself was only incidental to the conversation."

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Now Scourge is quite lost.

"What bit? You're nothing like Galvatron."

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She sighs inwardly. "Her spark code, actually. But I was trying to steer the conversation back toward speaking of her."

Then there's a soft 'plop' and she freezes, her head turning and chin tucking as she looked at a white streak that has suddenly appeared on her shoulder.

Optics smoldering, she looks up at the offending bird, who jerks his tail and mocks her with a caw, only to fall to the ground sans head in the next instant.

Threnody tosses her gun back into subspace and pulls out a wiper. "Excuse me."

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Scourge barely notices the casual killing, it's something any Decepticon would do. He's still stuck on Threnody sharing anything with Galvatron. "But...how does that even work? You don't look like him, you don't act like him, I don't even know what a spark code is...what part of you could be dedicated to his memory?"

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"I don't know." She frowns, but keeps the slight frustration from showing. "All I do know is that she created me, and that my spark still feels her loss even though I never met her. Maybe it's the fact that, as dissimilar that I am, as long as I live part of her does too. I don't know."

And now he'll see a bit of upset breaking past her control as she thinks of Cyclonus's attempts to have her take the leadership and the deference he's given her since she was just a little weak disgusting thing who only wanted to snuggle.

[corruptedhope.livejournal.com]

Scourge sets his hand at his beard, trying to think this one through. Galvatron's gender is the least of the problems here. "Galvatron's creation, Galvatron's heir, and yet you don't even know what he--she looks like?"

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"I know she was shorter than me. I know she carried a large gun. And now I know she was purple." A shrug. "Besides that I know her actions, her deeds, that mechs would die to follow her orders."

She finishes wiping and tosses the cloth away with disgust before adding, "And I know that I'm proud to carry a part of her... even if it doesn't show."

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Two years ago Scourge might have simply accepted this and made his excuses to leave. But now he has enough self-efficacy to admit the jarring wrongness with this scenario.

"He didn't carry a gun, it was a cannon...on his arm..." He keeps staring at her, and his weight shifts ever so slightly as if he's about to take a step back. "You don't know anything, do you?" the tracker whispers in horror.

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She looks back, face blank and emotions seething. "Don't I?"

Unseen to either of them, a presence pops in and leans an insubstantial shoulder against a tree to watch.

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"You're Galvatron's...something, and yet you don't even know what he looked like and you can't even be bothered to find out?" Now Scourge does take that fearful step back. Alarms are blaring in the back of his mind and her calm expression's just making it worse. "You don't see anything wrong with this?"

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"You think I haven't been trying?" She winces at the growl that comes out, worried that it will scare him away completely. "Do you think I like watching Astrotrain get soppy drunk just so that he'll tell stories that barely make sense? Do you think I haven't been over every bite in our database? Do you think I have fun being viewed as some sort of unapproachable deity that no one will speak to, if they don't view me as an abomination? I'm nearly ready to go to the Autobots for information."

Mortified by the outburst, she turns away and pulls her PINpoint out of subspace, ready to run and pride be #$%#@$.

And the watcher smirks slightly.

[corruptedhope.livejournal.com]

Scourge winces at the growl, but manages to stand his ground. Anything, any hint of something short of utter loyalty to Galvatron makes him sick--in the earliest days after Void it was one of the few things that kept him going.

"So why not go to them?" he asks desperately. "If Cyclonus reveres you as one of Galvatron's, ask him what is he hiding. If you were really Galvatron's creation you would have the strength to make them give you what you wanted."

If she runs, Scourge won't stop her. He wants to run himself.

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"Autobots are weak fools," she snaps, then flinches at his next words and vanishes with a flash.

"So that's my 'daughter'," says the watcher aloud, her voice amused and thoughtful.

A small purple and grey femme hoves into view, her crimson optics dancing with laughter over her grin.

"You don't see too impressed with how she's turned out, Scourge."

[corruptedhope.livejournal.com]

Scourge's intakes hitch for a moment and he stares at the small figure with slight awe. It could almost be Galvatron, if it wasn't so...small and high voiced. Almost.

"That's...it can't be Galvatron's," he says, letting his gaze slip downwards respectfully. But he does not call her Galvatron, not yet. "Not even a fraction of Galvatron's. There must be some trick."