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 'turns' to look at him curiously, reading him and wondering to herself, then focuses outwardly again and turns his head to look around before starting toward the clearing with the arch. Used as she is to the communion of the Allspark, she doesn't even realize that she gives him a terse mental "Come on" as they start out.

[corruptedhope.livejournal.com]

The body walks easily enough, although if she's not used to controlling a body with massive wings she's probably going to bang against something. Scourge 'sits' quietly, trying not to interrupt here and desperately hoping his body will be all right.

Cyclonus would be upset if he came home damaged.

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Bang she does, and pauses to give the offending tree a stink eye as she tries to figure out where his gun is. Failing this, she has to settle for cursing it soundly and gaging the width of spaces a little more carefully. Spotting the glow of the sign over the trees on the other side of the clearing, she decides to head in that direction. As she goes she catches some trace of thought of Cyclonus... and stumbles a little as she's distracted by a wave of longing for her mate.

She growls and forces it down, knowing that she's probably broadcast like a neon light... speaking of which, whose bright idea was that monstrosity? Now she really wishes her cannon still worked.

[corruptedhope.livejournal.com]

Scourge meets it with an equally deep ache. He knows how she feels, although it's true that they're trying in little steps to make it work. Cyclonus just doesn't have the time to deal with Scourge's weaknesses and command of an entire army at the same time.

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-He tried giving his spark to save me,- she thinks with absent bemusement as she parks them in a convenient place to spy on the crowd around the sign and soak up information. -Would have followed me.- Amusement. -The fool.-

[corruptedhope.livejournal.com]

Cyclonus tried. He couldn't. Stopped trying after I shot him, but he tried. I'm glad he wasn't taken. His thoughts are a bit muddled and drifting now, not staying in order as if he was simply talking to her.

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She pushes down the longing again, her thoughts going to the few days that she and Cyclonus had been bonded. Threnody spoke of her dying in a fight because that's what she's been told, but Galvatron's memories are of being cradled in Cyclonus's arms as her life slipped inexorably away.

-That's why I left him the scrap. Tried to make her all me, but the $%#@&$ Autobot tech wouldn't let me.-

No, he mustn't be taken. The Decepticons need him.

[corruptedhope.livejournal.com]

There's another flash, one of a mutilated and decapitated corpse. The body's a bit larger, a bit stockier, but the resemblance is clear.

Yes. Cyclonus needs to live so the Decepticons may live. So I can live.

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She pauses with a thrill of curiosity and horror, then turns her attention to him and pokes with surprising care till she finds another image, this one with head intact.

-Hmmm. Scourge would have liked that,- she says approvingly. -And no one could call it short!-

The thought's accompanied by a snort and a burst of anger and pride. Also images of her making sure that no 'short' pictures survived.

[corruptedhope.livejournal.com]

...short? Galvatron is big. Tough. Why aren't you bigger?

Or more appropriately, why didn't she get augments to make herself bigger? Putting on a bit of bulk's easy compared to making Combaticons out of old Vietnam War vehicles.

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Anger flairs with nuclear suddenness as she shouts, -I am not SHORT!-

[corruptedhope.livejournal.com]

And in some metaphysical way Scourge scurries into the corner and cowers again. He hadn't meant to get her yelling again, but she'd said...