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Post by Elita-1 on Mar 12, 2011 9:43:29 GMT -5
Machiatto, Machoatto. Whatevah.
Elita still thinks it tastes terrible.
She sips her drink and makes a "Mmmm" sound.
"So dear, you have simply got to tell me who your tailor is- so that I can avoid them at all costs." Looks like for the open conversation at least, Elita is going to channeling her inner Heather.
Privately though, //You know Sentinel... with everything going on, and our various issues- well, we haven't really been able to talk much. You sound like you were close to your Jazz. Were you? What was it like for you heading up the Elite Guard?//
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Post by Sentinel Prime on Mar 12, 2011 13:41:31 GMT -5
"The sim room's going to be very hurt to hear that," Sentinel Prime says absently, anthropomorphising without a thought. Equally unthinkingly, he answers, //It was the best thing in my life.// Well, yes, it was. Little Cadet Sentinel grew up to be married to the job. Given what did happen to the only people he was really close to, is anyone really shocked that he ended up emotionally distant? If he has no friends, his friends can't die, can they? A job will never die on him or betray him. Sentinel Prime absently, wistfully runs his fingertips over the sweeping wings of his emblem. //Disciplined. Regulated. But with autonomy enough to make choices that really mattered. Jazz was... too talkative by half, especially for a ninja-bot.// He frowns. //Too interested in xenos, too, but I suppose he was a Great War veteran; there's nothing for it. They traveled to so many planets in the conflict. Some taint was inevitable.// At length, he finally admits, //He was a good bot, though.// No one he'd rather have his back. Closest thing he had to a friend in a long time. Sentinel Prime misses him more than he'll ever tell anyone.
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Post by Elita-1 on Mar 12, 2011 18:34:29 GMT -5
Sentinel doesn't have to say how much he misses his Jazz. Elita has always been pretty good at reading him and Optimus, and even though she gave Sentinel an emotional lobotomy, she's pretty sure what emotion she's seeing now is real. Sentinel always did have his spark set on being a career solider, after all. Also, despite his jerkish attitude and distance, she thinks Sentinel, deep down, really wants a true friend again.
At least, he did, before she took a jackhammer to his processor.
"Allspark, you let that thing pick your clothes for you? That's almost as bad as letting Longcat dress you. The leather jacket might not be so bad, but I can't for the life of me picture you in a string bikini."
Actually, she can. It hurts her CPU something fierce.
She reaches one gloved hand out and tries to touch Sentinel on the arm, the movement slow enough that Sentinel can certainly avoid it if he wants. She won't blame him if he does.
//I'm glad you got what you were after Sentinel. It was always Elite Guard or bust for you, back then. I'm also glad you at least have one friend there.//
//You're next in line for Magnus, right? You must have really impressed Ultra Magnus, even after-// she cuts off suddenly, drawing back and sipping her drink to help hide her suddenly lost expression.
//I... Sentinel, what happened after that day? I know Optimus never graduated, but you did. I've been wondering... just how did it all go down, when you both got back?//
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Post by Sentinel Prime on Mar 12, 2011 19:27:24 GMT -5
Knight Rider Sentinel Prime would be somewhat redundant, since he himself is a snotty talking automobile. Baywatch Sentinel Prime is an abomination, and Elita-1 is an evil woman for suggesting it. Of course, Sailor Sentinel Prime is in no way inappropriate.
He stares at her, aghast, before taking a stiff drink of his machoatto. Oh delicious goodness. Sentinel Prime grabs at the menu, idly checking to see if they sell processor bleach shots or not.
He still has enough time to decide if he wants to let her touch him or not. Sentinel Prime decides not. He should still be playing the chemical torture victim, even if they both know that's not the worst thing to happen to his processors in recent times. He's gentle about moving his arm out of the way, though, just barely moving it. Sentinel Prime doesn't want to hurt her feelings, after all.
His expression turns stormy, lips curled in something of a pout, as she pokes at him, intentionally or not - probably intentionally, he decides paranoidly, given her earlier behaviour. //Jazz is not not my - Elita-1.//
Sentinel Prime sighs. No. he doesn't really impress Ultra Magnus. Oh sure, there's a 'well done' or a 'good thinking' every now and then, but he's like that with everyone. It doesn't mean anything. Sentinel Prime lies to his lady friend, //Oh, of course! I can't even tell you how many secret projects with which I have been trusted. No, really, I can't.//
He smirks, but it fades. Sentinel Prime is very flat and short now. //...uh, Optimus was senior cadet, so he was booted out of the Academy and barred from ever applying to the Elite Guard. Ultra Magnus gave him a commission as a Prime anyway and his own ship and crew. I finished the Academy and then spent a while,// too long, //as a Minor and a drill sergeant in boot camp before being accepted into the Elite Guard and becoming a Prime.//
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Post by Elita-1 on Mar 13, 2011 15:44:16 GMT -5
Elita-1'a hand rests lightly on the table instead on on her friend's arm. She doesn't blame him. Really.
She looks down to hide the extremely sad and resigned expression that crosses her face for a moment. So it's going to be that way, then.
//Fine. He isn't your friend. I suppose you'd say you have no friends because it's safer that way. But you need a friend Sentinel.//
//I don't qualify for that title anymore. I wish I did, but I don't.// Friends don't do what she did.
Everything Sentinel says is just repeat of what Elita has been told before. There's no details, and it's details she wants. So she presses harder.
//And even though the entire thing was basically your idea and your fault, you of course let Optimus take the fall. Like always, because nothing can ever really be your fault.// Elita sips her drink.
//I love you both you know, but I could never choose. Love who you were then, anyway. Who you are now... I don't even know you. Either of you.//
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Post by Sentinel Prime on Mar 13, 2011 16:40:22 GMT -5
Hey now, Sentinel Prime wasn't trying to hurt Elita-1, don't go looking all sad like that! //Don't-//
Sentinel Prime slams his face down on the table and covers his head with arms. He wants, so hard, to go off on her with some of his finest cursewords, maybe even a box to the audios. She is deliberately poking at him, he's sure of it. The thoughts and urges are there, but they just can't latch onto anything.
He peers up at her from between his fingers and settles on something flat, //Look. You can poke me all you want when we get back to the ship. I'll give you that. But right now? Jazz is maybe getting his skidplate kicked, and if Jazz needs help, we need to be there for him, not here, with me...//
Sentinel Prime stares a moment, grasping for words, //...going off on you.//
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Post by Elita-1 on Mar 13, 2011 19:36:38 GMT -5
There's a little deliberate poking, yeah. Mostly though, it's Elita trying to do something she hardly ever does- be honest with someone. She really is a manipulative little glitch of an Autobot, even if she's always denied the fact. After the encounter with her future self though, Elita has been doing some heavy spark searching, and she's coming to terms with the idea that maybe she really is just a stuck up, prideful little girl.
She quirks an odd, sad sort of smile at Sentinel's tirade. There was a time (she likes to think) that her admission would have made Sentinel happy. Sure he'd have still been torqued off at not being in higher esteem than Optimus, but he would have been happy. Now, he's "going off on her" and ignoring it.
"I'm sorry, Sentinel," she says, "I really, truly am."
//So you want me to go look for Jazz, Prime?// she asks, voice cool and neutral, a proper solider waiting on orders.
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Post by Sentinel Prime on Mar 14, 2011 10:42:40 GMT -5
Jazz is not his friend. Jazz is his subordinate. Sentinel Prime cannot have friends, because there's really no one who is an equal to him in rank - Ultra Magnus is higher, the Council are higher - everyone else is below. Other Primes are technically the same rank as him, insofar as there is no such thing as a Primer Prime, but he doesn't have much to do with them. They all have their own teams and are scattered across space.
Except here, he's nothing, so Sentinel Prime could be friends with some of the other nobodies. He could even be friends with Elita-1! He's forgiven her, after all. He can do nothing else.
Yes, Sentinel Prime let Optimus take the fall, and Optimus made Prime faster, anyway. Optimus was given his own slagging ship, something Sentinel Prime has never had. The Steelhaven is Ultra Magnus's, in a way that Sentinel Prime tries not to think about too deeply. Optimus never spent in any time riding herd on laser-brained cadets in boot camp. Sentinel Prime finds all of this deeply unfair. If Sentinel Prime hadn't let Optimus take the fall, how much unfairer would it be now? Would Optimus be the Prime of the Elite Guard now? Perhaps Magnus? And Sentinel rotting away in the stockade, slowly going completely insane like Wasp?
And it doesn't matter that she loved him, because he's not that person anymore. She could just as easily say she loves Rodimus Prime. Sentinel Prime's not Rodimus Prime, either. It does hurt, though, that she didn't love him more than freaking Optimus.
There's all of that, and the only reason it's not all spilling out in a jumbled, angry, bitter mess is that Elita-1 took a fire axe to his emotional hardlines, so Sentinel Prime's number and more logical than he has any right being. He just feels stung, mildly annoyed, when he should be aflame.
That bothers him a little, too.
Sentinel Prime pushes himself up from the table and sits up straight and proper. He waves a hand dismissively, "Don't be." He isn't.
//No. I trust Jazz - this Jazz. If he needs help, he'll call, but we must be vigilant and ready to receive that call. Dinobot should be watching that area. I'll ask him if he sees anything.//
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Post by Elita-1 on Mar 14, 2011 14:28:49 GMT -5
Elita downs the last of her Hot Cocoaoil, then orders another. She really does like them, and this place makes good ones!
//So what, we just sit in in silence, or make small talk 'til who knows when? Yeah, no. We've both been brought up solider enough to be able to jump into action when we need to.// Elita shifts in her seat. Patience has never been her virtue.
Neither has silence.
She sighs, then continues over the radio, //Sentinel, if I hadn't completely mindfragged you, what would you be saying to me right now? Aside from, 'shut up, I don't want to talk about this right now.'//
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Post by Sentinel Prime on Mar 14, 2011 14:42:45 GMT -5
Sentinel Prime is not sure about that. He's pretty sure he could get into a ridiculous argument and completely not notice that Swindle was stealing the shield off his arm. That's not a nice pleasant or flattering thing to admit, however.
He shifts and squirms in his seat uncomfortably, and he reminds, //To be completely professional, we really should just maintain enough small talk as to not attract attention, but not enough that we're distracted from watch. It's right there in the handbook.//
Sentinel Prime grabs his datapad and pages to it, points to the section, and then slides it over to Elita-1.
//I don't know what I'd say. I can't think that way anymore. I have feelings, but they're faint, and I'm more acting them out based on what I think I should be feeling than actually feeling them, or I'm acting out based on how I remember I used to act. See... spiders. I'm a little scared of them, still, but that's all. Before, I know I would have pitched a screaming fit, and if it won't hurt anything, I'll act out a screaming fit, just so people don't get suspicious, but... it's not there.//
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Post by Elita-1 on Mar 17, 2011 17:29:24 GMT -5
Elita sighs and flicks her optics upwards in approximation of an eyeroll as Sentinel literally shove the Autobot Handbook at her. For the love of the Allspark, he can be such a slagging stick in the mud sometimes!
Then he goes and honestly answers her question, throwing her right back into feeling terrible.
//Sentinel... I'm sure that one of the brainiacs here could fix... what I did. Didn't Perceptor look at you after the trial and all? Surely he noticed?//
Mirage's call and Sentinel's orders bring her back to all business. Elita stands and snags a to-go cover for her drink, then leans in and tries not quite brush her lips over Sentinel's cheek. The motion would look like a kiss, but wouldn't actually force Sentinel to endure her touch.
"Don't be a stranger sweetie."
//I'll go play back up. Be careful Sentinel.//
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Post by Sentinel Prime on Mar 17, 2011 17:52:55 GMT -5
//Perceptor noticed,// Sentinel Prime says a bit hoarsely.
//I told him I wanted it.//
//I told him I asked for it.//
//I didn't tell him who did it.//
Elita-1 almost kisses him. Once, that would have been bragging rights for at least a week to lord over Optimus. Now, Sentinel Prime just reaches for his datapad and slides it back to his side of the booth.
"Watch yourself, kiddo."
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