HAPPY CAKE DAY!
Tuesday, 14 July 2009 05:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keaaluPsst: Happy Cake day. You know who you are!
Look! I saved it specially! *disclaimer: Might not be true, might have just 90% forgotten it*
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Over the course of an average vorn, there were not many moments when Dirge got the chance to just go out and enjoy himself.
If he wasn’t depressed at the state of the faction, then he was depressed at how little success they’d had lately, and if he wasn’t depressed at that, then he was just depressed, period. His engines and his electrical field had weird disharmonies that hade other machines uncomfortable – himself included – and having everyone choose to avoid him didn’t exactly promote happy relationships.
It wasn’t something he talked to his wingmates about – probably not something they’d even bother to attempt to understand, if he was honest – but he longed for these days of poor weather and adverse flying conditions. So what if the lightning scrambled his positioning array, the roaring song of the storm left him momentarily deaf? The static in the air was strong enough to blot out the discordance that made his spark uncomfortable in his chassis, and for once he could just get out there and enjoy flying. No stupid Megatron, no stupid plans to follow, no Starscream to mess it all up, and no wingmates continually catcalling across their private frequency. Just him and the thunderclouds, and mile upon mile of wild, beautiful sky.
Thunder rolled close by, and St Elmo’s fire rippled along his wings. It lit him up with a brilliant lilac corona, and suddenly he wasn’t just the “gloomy third one only there to make up the numbers”, he was a powerful, beautiful creature made of pure light and energy.
Dirge felt the rain lash along his sleek fuselage, and... laughed.
Look! I saved it specially! *disclaimer: Might not be true, might have just 90% forgotten it*
-----
Over the course of an average vorn, there were not many moments when Dirge got the chance to just go out and enjoy himself.
If he wasn’t depressed at the state of the faction, then he was depressed at how little success they’d had lately, and if he wasn’t depressed at that, then he was just depressed, period. His engines and his electrical field had weird disharmonies that hade other machines uncomfortable – himself included – and having everyone choose to avoid him didn’t exactly promote happy relationships.
It wasn’t something he talked to his wingmates about – probably not something they’d even bother to attempt to understand, if he was honest – but he longed for these days of poor weather and adverse flying conditions. So what if the lightning scrambled his positioning array, the roaring song of the storm left him momentarily deaf? The static in the air was strong enough to blot out the discordance that made his spark uncomfortable in his chassis, and for once he could just get out there and enjoy flying. No stupid Megatron, no stupid plans to follow, no Starscream to mess it all up, and no wingmates continually catcalling across their private frequency. Just him and the thunderclouds, and mile upon mile of wild, beautiful sky.
Thunder rolled close by, and St Elmo’s fire rippled along his wings. It lit him up with a brilliant lilac corona, and suddenly he wasn’t just the “gloomy third one only there to make up the numbers”, he was a powerful, beautiful creature made of pure light and energy.
Dirge felt the rain lash along his sleek fuselage, and... laughed.