Bumblebee (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
proveyourmetal) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
themainframe2014-01-29 04:24 pm
proveyourmetal) wrote in themainframe2014-01-29 04:24 pm
Entry tags:
[3rd Transformation // Anon Text // Optional Action with Bumblebee]
[When Bumblebee first emerges from the damaged apartment of 010 in his robot form, 16 feet of towering metal and living machine, Vanguard is filled with immeasurable awe an wonder.
In an hour, when he finds himself sitting in the car form of his partner, playing session after session of video game inside his cabin, that wonder becomes joy. In three hours, when Vanguard goes to tell off some insolent digimon on Bee's behalf but Bumblebee speaks up on his own first, gently resolving the situation with his own voicebox. All he feels is confusion. Six hours later, when Vanguard has to step outside and get his feet on steady ground after one of Bumblebee's races, it's irritation. The final straw happens when Vanguard finds himself held in the giant, protective metal hand of his robot partner, narrowly injured from a reckless Chosen. Saved. Protected. Lovingly guarded.
Then... it's just anger and resentment.
He leaves Bumblebee to talk with companions just beyond the hole in their apartment (hastily covered by the staff with a sheet of plastic). Bee doesn't need Vanguard to help translate his feelings to the friends he encounters outside. He laughs, and dances and transforms just fine on his own.
So the digimon retreats to their room just a few paces away. It takes ten minutes for it all to boil over. In the back of his mind, he knows he's going to calm down and regret this later but... he's not thinking about that at the time. He angrily jabs an anonymous message into the D-terminal.]
+ [Anonymous Text] +
All you Chosen. You think you're so impressive.
You could hardly take care of yourselves when you got here. You couldn't figure out how to eat, sleep or walk. Some of you couldn't even speak. We chased off digimon three times our size to keep you alive. We kept you safe on the journey down to HospiTown.
We did everything we were supposed to. We're your digimon. We were made to meet you and fix this world together.
So much for partners.
You can take your real forms and just
Just go home. We didn't need you either.
[The moment he presses send, he experiences a moment of hesitation. Of something beyond anger. Regret? He crosses his arms and tries not to think about it.]
[ooc: Vanguard (Coronamon) will respond to text anonymously while Bumblebee will react to action outside the hospital.]
In an hour, when he finds himself sitting in the car form of his partner, playing session after session of video game inside his cabin, that wonder becomes joy. In three hours, when Vanguard goes to tell off some insolent digimon on Bee's behalf but Bumblebee speaks up on his own first, gently resolving the situation with his own voicebox. All he feels is confusion. Six hours later, when Vanguard has to step outside and get his feet on steady ground after one of Bumblebee's races, it's irritation. The final straw happens when Vanguard finds himself held in the giant, protective metal hand of his robot partner, narrowly injured from a reckless Chosen. Saved. Protected. Lovingly guarded.
Then... it's just anger and resentment.
He leaves Bumblebee to talk with companions just beyond the hole in their apartment (hastily covered by the staff with a sheet of plastic). Bee doesn't need Vanguard to help translate his feelings to the friends he encounters outside. He laughs, and dances and transforms just fine on his own.
So the digimon retreats to their room just a few paces away. It takes ten minutes for it all to boil over. In the back of his mind, he knows he's going to calm down and regret this later but... he's not thinking about that at the time. He angrily jabs an anonymous message into the D-terminal.]
+ [Anonymous Text] +
All you Chosen. You think you're so impressive.
You could hardly take care of yourselves when you got here. You couldn't figure out how to eat, sleep or walk. Some of you couldn't even speak. We chased off digimon three times our size to keep you alive. We kept you safe on the journey down to HospiTown.
We did everything we were supposed to. We're your digimon. We were made to meet you and fix this world together.
So much for partners.
You can take your real forms and just
Just go home. We didn't need you either.
[The moment he presses send, he experiences a moment of hesitation. Of something beyond anger. Regret? He crosses his arms and tries not to think about it.]
[ooc: Vanguard (Coronamon) will respond to text anonymously while Bumblebee will react to action outside the hospital.]
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