ext_58540 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
beckyh2112.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
31_days2005-12-01 11:57 pm
beckyh2112.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-12-01 11:57 pm
[Dec. 1] [Transformers] Riding the Edge
Title: Riding the Ragged Edge
Day/Theme: Dec. 1, 'E como vivo?'
Series: G1 Transformers
Characters: Motormaster Prime, Ultra Magnus
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Part of my dark Unicron ascendant AU. Motormaster suffers the problem of all Primes - ANGST.
And then there's all the rest of his problems.
---
"Prime, you can't keep doing this." Ultra Magnus loomed in the doorway, glared at principal occupant of the bodyshop.
Motormaster glared back at him sullenly, then went back to repairing his feet. First Aid had already taken care of everything life-threatening and had retired to the mess hall for a stiff drink. Since he'd had to virtually rebuild Motormaster's torso and reattach or replace his limbs, Ultra Magnus couldn't fault him for it. Death wishes seemed to be a fact of life for Primes, even if this one tried to insist it was other people he wanted to die.
Still, Motormaster would listen to him on this matter - he was big enough and tough enough to beat the tar out of the semi. In the beginning, that was the only way he could get the new Prime to listen at all.
The Stunticon leader - except there were no Stunticons, anymore, not after what Sideways had done - Motormaster had flashes of the traits that made a good Prime. The Matrix accepted him, for one. The Matrix could have made a worse decision, really. Ultra Magnus couldn't think of one off the top of his head, but given some high-grade, he'd come up with a whole list.
"Someone's got to stop them," Motormaster growled. He finished with the repairs to his feet and reactivated his forcefield. "And I played by your rules. I didn't waste any of your soldiers' lives on this mission."
"You went in alone."
He grunted in acknowledgement.
"The Unicronians almost tore you apart."
"Yeah."
"If I hadn't gone in after you-"
"You Autobots would have lost your precious Prime!" Motormaster pulled himself into a crouch, the wildness coming back into his optics. "And I would have joined my brothers! No more playing by your stupid rules! I'm a Decepticon, a slagging killer! Why does this stupid thing in my chest insist I show mercy?" By the end, he'd begun to claw at the armor covering the Matrix. The metal didn't bend or tear, though, because the impenetrable forcefields he had worked both ways.
Ultra Magnus stepped forward. He'd seen this before - the beginning stages of a breakdown that the semi only seemed to permit himself to have around the Autobot commander. "Motormaster...."
The Prime raised his head as if he was lifting a planet. Those wild, too-bright optics froze Ultra Magnus in his tracks. "Why," Motormaster rasped. "Do you and Onslaught hold me to this? Isn't there someone, anyone else?"
"No, there isn't anyone else," Ultra Magnus said quietly. The shame and guilt that Onslaught had put into him months ago, that he knew the Decepticon had seeded deliberately, surged. Motormaster was young, he was a Decepticon, he frankly wasn't built to be a Prime. They couldn't even install the components First Aid had isolated as being unique to Optimus and Rodimus. Decepticon systems couldn't handle them, and First Aid didn't have a clear enough idea of what they did to reverse-engineer something that would work on Motormaster.
"There has to be! One of you slagging Autobots has to-!" Metal screamed in protest as he deactivated his forcefields, jammed his fingers into his chestplate, and pulled.
"Motormaster!" Ultra Magnus moved even before the name left his mouth, pulled the Prime's hands away from his chest. "There is no one else! We can't let Rodimus have the Matrix back! You must carry it!"
A twist of his wrists and Motormaster was holding onto him, clutching his arms with a painful desperation. "I need my gestaltmates....!"
"You can't, Prime, you can't."
"Can't have them while I'm Prime. But after-" He convulsed, Matrix glow glittering in his mouth and rising in his optics. When he spoke again, it was barely a whisper. "Decepticon conquest, I hate this. Weak, I'm weak, I need them, but I can't-" Convulsion. "Can't even think about going to them without-" This one lasted longer, and Ultra Magnus could feel his armor bending imperceptibly under Motormaster's hands. "Without it frying me. Magnus, there must be someone else!"
"There isn't." He looked down at the Prime's head, remembered another Prime who had also wrestled with the Matrix and its responsibilities. Primus, why did the artifact of their salvation drive its bearers so hard?
"Please!"
He shuddered at the ragged edge in Motormaster's voice. "I'm sorry, but there isn't. You are the only one who can do this."
Motormaster's grip loosened. "Then we're all going to die."
Day/Theme: Dec. 1, 'E como vivo?'
Series: G1 Transformers
Characters: Motormaster Prime, Ultra Magnus
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Part of my dark Unicron ascendant AU. Motormaster suffers the problem of all Primes - ANGST.
And then there's all the rest of his problems.
---
"Prime, you can't keep doing this." Ultra Magnus loomed in the doorway, glared at principal occupant of the bodyshop.
Motormaster glared back at him sullenly, then went back to repairing his feet. First Aid had already taken care of everything life-threatening and had retired to the mess hall for a stiff drink. Since he'd had to virtually rebuild Motormaster's torso and reattach or replace his limbs, Ultra Magnus couldn't fault him for it. Death wishes seemed to be a fact of life for Primes, even if this one tried to insist it was other people he wanted to die.
Still, Motormaster would listen to him on this matter - he was big enough and tough enough to beat the tar out of the semi. In the beginning, that was the only way he could get the new Prime to listen at all.
The Stunticon leader - except there were no Stunticons, anymore, not after what Sideways had done - Motormaster had flashes of the traits that made a good Prime. The Matrix accepted him, for one. The Matrix could have made a worse decision, really. Ultra Magnus couldn't think of one off the top of his head, but given some high-grade, he'd come up with a whole list.
"Someone's got to stop them," Motormaster growled. He finished with the repairs to his feet and reactivated his forcefield. "And I played by your rules. I didn't waste any of your soldiers' lives on this mission."
"You went in alone."
He grunted in acknowledgement.
"The Unicronians almost tore you apart."
"Yeah."
"If I hadn't gone in after you-"
"You Autobots would have lost your precious Prime!" Motormaster pulled himself into a crouch, the wildness coming back into his optics. "And I would have joined my brothers! No more playing by your stupid rules! I'm a Decepticon, a slagging killer! Why does this stupid thing in my chest insist I show mercy?" By the end, he'd begun to claw at the armor covering the Matrix. The metal didn't bend or tear, though, because the impenetrable forcefields he had worked both ways.
Ultra Magnus stepped forward. He'd seen this before - the beginning stages of a breakdown that the semi only seemed to permit himself to have around the Autobot commander. "Motormaster...."
The Prime raised his head as if he was lifting a planet. Those wild, too-bright optics froze Ultra Magnus in his tracks. "Why," Motormaster rasped. "Do you and Onslaught hold me to this? Isn't there someone, anyone else?"
"No, there isn't anyone else," Ultra Magnus said quietly. The shame and guilt that Onslaught had put into him months ago, that he knew the Decepticon had seeded deliberately, surged. Motormaster was young, he was a Decepticon, he frankly wasn't built to be a Prime. They couldn't even install the components First Aid had isolated as being unique to Optimus and Rodimus. Decepticon systems couldn't handle them, and First Aid didn't have a clear enough idea of what they did to reverse-engineer something that would work on Motormaster.
"There has to be! One of you slagging Autobots has to-!" Metal screamed in protest as he deactivated his forcefields, jammed his fingers into his chestplate, and pulled.
"Motormaster!" Ultra Magnus moved even before the name left his mouth, pulled the Prime's hands away from his chest. "There is no one else! We can't let Rodimus have the Matrix back! You must carry it!"
A twist of his wrists and Motormaster was holding onto him, clutching his arms with a painful desperation. "I need my gestaltmates....!"
"You can't, Prime, you can't."
"Can't have them while I'm Prime. But after-" He convulsed, Matrix glow glittering in his mouth and rising in his optics. When he spoke again, it was barely a whisper. "Decepticon conquest, I hate this. Weak, I'm weak, I need them, but I can't-" Convulsion. "Can't even think about going to them without-" This one lasted longer, and Ultra Magnus could feel his armor bending imperceptibly under Motormaster's hands. "Without it frying me. Magnus, there must be someone else!"
"There isn't." He looked down at the Prime's head, remembered another Prime who had also wrestled with the Matrix and its responsibilities. Primus, why did the artifact of their salvation drive its bearers so hard?
"Please!"
He shuddered at the ragged edge in Motormaster's voice. "I'm sorry, but there isn't. You are the only one who can do this."
Motormaster's grip loosened. "Then we're all going to die."