Fika Time - Tumblr Posts
Fika
“Do you remember a time when, as a race, we were not constantly killing others?” Lieutenant asks, rarely ever breaking the air of silence during their fika. It’s a surprise to the Commander as he looks over to the avian. It’s the most ‘relaxed’ he’s seen him. By that, it’s not a glaring or narrowing his gaze. It’s thoughtful, and given the degrees of his fins, almost sorrowful.
Tormentor shook his head, “Nope. You forget I was forged into murder. Molded by it.”
And, the narrowing gaze returned as his fins perks up once more. Irritation, but not enough to want to strangle the tank, as usual. The ‘I’m trying here and you’re not helping’ kind of irritation. “I did not forget,” Lieutenant reminds in a flat tone, “I do not have such luxury. The point is, you knew at one point it was wrong.”
Tormentor rolls his shoulders back, his treads dragging along the floor as he tries to get comfortable. This was about to be one of those long, serious talks. One needs to get into a more comfortable position for those. “Yeah, before the Senate locked me up I kinda yanno, figured. I didn’t ever see anyone die before I got to torturing.”
It’s said with a weight to his words, just to hit it home that he did not grow up normally like most before the war. He’s grown past it, but his venom towards the Senate will never be sedated. "Why are you bringing this up?”
Lieutenant placed his cube down, “I was just thinking about how most of our crew: Disaster, Mixer, Launcher, Gigatech, Kameel, and Glare are Made to Orders. Specifically of different campaigns during the Shimazi Massacre. They did not realize that it is wrong to kill others. That there was ever a point in time when we were not out destroying others.”
Tormentor tilts his head, waiting to see the point as the his wondering lieutenant watches the ripples in his cube as he taps the edge of it. He’s troubled, pondering the words he’s about to say next. The torturer remains silent, already guessing what direction this will take but still listening to see what will be said, exactly.
“Do they know that this is not supposed to be normal?”
A heavy sigh follows, as the Commander shifts his weight in order to sit forward. If they were going to have this conversation, so be it. “Lieutenant.” It’s rare Tormentor’s tone becomes serious when he mentions the name without shouting. It gets the fliers attention to focus on him.
“I can’t speak for them entirely, but they’re each different.” Tormentor explains, gesturing out his hands, “Some enjoy it and some do it because that’s our life. Someone like you, who knew a time when mercy was an option, think twice about it. Staying up at night wondering how to clean-off all the blood on your hands. Whereas, just about everyone else, never thinks about the body count they’ve accumulated.
“Disaster’s not going to mourn over the loss of someone he never knew. Mixer isn’t going to stop cracking jokes just because he shot someone through the spark. Launcher isn’t going to take the moment to pray when he could take out another ‘Bot before they take one of our’s. Gigatech doesn’t care there’s someone else’s blood on his Cybernought’s boot, just that it better come off. Kameel doesn’t care who get’s effected by the explosives he plants, so long as it isn’t one of us. And Glare, well, she’d prefer a gladiator pit than a battlefield, but you get my point about our crew.”
Lieutenant’s optics drop back down.
“Unfortunately,” Tormentor continues, a bit more gently, “Your age is gone. Those days are forgotten to everyone but the neutrals. This war is to make sure everyone forgets that time.”
Silence befalls the room, allowing the last statement to linger. Made to Orders -specifically on the Decepticon side- don’t understand about preserving life. The few that do is only because they were more emotional when coming to life. They experienced fear. The fear of dying is what made some realize it was kill or be killed. The thoughts bothered Lieutenant, who seems despondent over the realization.
“It was your age too.” he whispers quietly.
Tormentor chuckles with a pitying smile, almost apologetic towards his partner. “Oh Lieutenant, I never fitted in your age.”