Song: Breathe In - Frou Frou
Characters: Frenzy, Unknown
Summary: Sometimes we're pushed into things so fast, we never get a chance to breathe, we never get a chance to sit down and momentarily reflect on what we have done, or what we are about to do. Relax, find a friend, dance, and breathe.
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Breathe In
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"Relax. Just follow my lead, alright?" When the flesh stroked the first sight of the metal, he had relaxed in body, but never in mind. She was significantly smaller than he, perhaps two heads, but nonetheless, she could of a proved a threat for all he knew. The smile didn't hint at anything more then a temporary dance, and the stance didn't hint at anything more than a good time, so he faltered, if not but momentarily, then for the remainder of the song.
The night had been a rather upsetting one, what with learning of information he perhaps would of been better without; but had he not known in the first place, it probably would of seemed selfish to not care to begin with. He had already exploited this care to the other, and the other appreciated it, but nothing more. He couldn't do anything more than leave without saying another word, and it was then he had realized she was standing outside. She hadn't been eavesdropping, and even if she was, she kept a good show of hiding it, but she was there simply to be there, away from the rest of the party that exploded down below.
The banisters kept the other rooms rather private, and the rafters were creaking every so often with one of Thundercracker or Starscream's movements, who were situated comfortably among them. It was a large area, and it was familiar, for it was the housing place of peace and party, where their fans could enjoy themselves among a cup of soda, and the Decepticons and Autobots were known by no other name than their personal ones, and the natural name of Transformers. It was a home, a sanctuary, where problems should be lifted for whatever reason. Even Starscream himself could not bade a comment of ruthlessness towards the Autobots, even as Prime sat below him chatting with a fellow mech. The entertainment stage was brightly lit in the center, while the red curtain remained closed, and a few Autobots, namely Jazz, Ratchet, Wheeljack and Prowl sat contently among it, watching the fans dance it out in the middle of the floors. No one could start a fight here, and if they did, it ended with a mild show of laughter and a clinking of ice against glass, and glass against glass.
But even so, a problem lingered here and there, be it in the topic of conversation or in one of the private rooms among the banisters. It seemed to go unnoticed, unless one was the cause or in the vicinity of the problem, which in particular, he seemed to be. She'd promised it'd go away, but she had never said when, even as he curiously wondered her direction, his hand in hers, as she lead him from the shadows and out to the dance floor. Dancing seemed to solve most of their problems, these humans, he noticed it when he first came here. There was nothing wrong with breaking out any move, or any body part to the beat of music. There seemed nothing wrong with it at all, whether you were being watched by your friends or enemies. Maybe that's why nothing ever seemed to go wrong here, and nothing ever seemed to take place here other than the parties. The songs they danced to, they may of only heard the beat, for he heard so many songs that screamed violence and death, and yet they carried on, happily ever after as some of the books he once read had said. This was indeed a sanctuary, as simple and vulnerable it seemed to look from the outside.
"Why are you doing this?" He shook his mind from his thoughts to confront her. She gazed up at him, eyes glistening with the lights that emitted from the various parts of the room. It was dim, but every so often a spotlight would hit the right spot, as he assumed its name confirmed, and he was amazed by the strange beauty of a human's eyes. Whether male or female, their eyes were peculiar, nothing like the dead onset of optics, that only dimmed and brightened, much like those spotlights. She smiled, and stepped back, and he followed in step as the beat would slow and speed at different intervals.
"You don't do this?"
"I've never done this. Too busy fighting." She frowned slightly at the latter of his sentence, and it occured to him that humans were made mostly out of emotion, not for purpose. Unlike him and his fellow cassettes, along with the rest of the Decepticons, he was made to fight, there wasn't really a time when he wasn't, other than recharging and perhaps a chat or two. But those chats provoked emotion, unless it was with Shockwave, in who's case you were left with a rulebook of logical and illlogical purposes to pursue. Maybe he only noticed it because Rumble referred to him as the "mushiest" of the Decepticons, always putting emotion first, despite he hid it well with his loyalty. Nonetheless, he probably agreed with him secretly, but never more.
"You're missing out on alot, you know."
"Can't say I find entertainment with moving around to something intangible."
"So why do you fight?" There was a question he kept trying to answer. It struck him only then that she had a good reason to ask it. Why did he fight? He moved around to something intangible. War. He fought a war with the Decepticons, choosing a side only because he was created for it. Why did he fight? To keep his caretaker safe? Or the other cassettes? Or maybe for himself, or Megatron, or whoever seemed to lead in the momentary times when Starscream claimed he'd taken over. Why did he fight?
"Maybe that's why you don't dance." She answered the question herself when he didn't. He looked at her, a tad confused. She grinned. "You don't know why you fight, so I assume you don't know why you'd dance."
"...I guess." He couldn't honestly come up with a response to it. She stepped back, pulling him forward. "Why do you dance?" Stupid question. Maybe he was trying to start conversation, even though he knew very well where it lead to. Emotions. She laughed and smiled again. She seemed to do that alot. He wasn't use to it, unless it was a smug one from one of the cassettes. He wondered momentarily if the Autobots smiled as much as the humans, since they seemed to be around them so much. The Decepticons were only around them when they needed to be, or were invited to be, such as these nights, and why they existed.
"Because I love you, no? Can't help but love, you know..." It took him a moment to realize she was singing to the music. Maybe she wasn't even singing, but lipsync. Maybe she wasn't even lipsyncing, but singing. Either way, he wondered if that was the reason they listened to music. It seemed to be as emotive as themselves. Maybe he wondered too much. It was then that he didn't even realize he was thinking about dancing. He was just moving. Moving to something as intangible as war itself. War was nothing but emotions come to think of it, so why was he fighting it? Why was Shockwave fighting it, or Soundwave, or even Megatron? Come to think of it, Megatron had too many reasons. Reasons he kept private and public. This was a place where all of those problems seemed to disappear, and he was in this place. So why should they still be apparent.
It was then that he just stopped thinking, and if he did, it was more light-hearted thoughts, such as why so many people had arguments over what color he was or should be, or why they kept changing the vehicles Jazz turned into, or why Bumblebee was Goldbug and Goldbug was Sparkplug. Or maybe why so many died in that god-forsaken movie the humans produced, or maybe why he was dancing with a human. That seemed light-hearted in itself, and he had to laugh. She grinned and chuckled, and the two of them spun across the floor, ever so delicately paying attention to the music, and ever so strongly enjoying themselves. Who cared what happened tomorrow, or the day before? It was today, tonight, a night of many nights in a year, but it was tonight, and they were enjoying it. Though as soon as it seemed to begin, and as long as it seemed to ever end, the song ended, and the two made their seperate ways. She remained on the floor, for to her, as she had said countless times on and off the banister, the night was young, and there was too much to do to recharge or sleep or whatever a human did. He decided to head back to the privacy of the dark rooms, away to where the music was but a dim dream in their minds.
He pondered the life of a human for some reason, and how short it was. Maybe that was the reason for the flashy shows, the entertainment, the smiles, the laughter, the drinks, the show-offs, the haters, the lovers, and the dances. The dances in particular. Maybe that's why. It kept them satisfied, and away from their problems when they needed to be dealt with later. He quietly pondered the girl's problems, and wondered how or if she even had any. Either way, the thoughts died away as he headed back to the room they'd reserved for the cassettes. Either way, the cassettes he shared the room with could be as smug and taunting and mocking of him as long as they'd want. He wouldn't be able to find any insult of theirs worth frowning at. Either way, he was satisfied.