Risperdal

Summary: When desperate, you panic. When pushed, you flee. When you've already dived by past all of them... where do you turn next? Slight AU, following the events of MTMTE issue 5.
Rating: M

Chapter 1



C.M.D: I love Pharma. Let's start with that. Loved him since he first debuted in MTMTE, to the point that my good friend and I rped what became of him after Delphi for a year and more -even after he showed again later in the comic series, when our rp and the canon story lines no longer correlated. I may or may not get the chance to transfer it all over into a fanfic, but if not, at least there's this nice little introspective piece of Pharma's fall from Delphi to read over ^ ^
Originally posted Jan. 15, 2013

~Prologue~ 

Wind whistled and roared as it twisted and flew past his turbines; creating visible wisps that spun and twirled into non-existence like bats.

He was falling.

The realization sunk in, hard and unexpectedly. Blue optics flared, seeing the pale sky above with new sight, vents hitching and vocalizer clicking with an approaching scream. It never came. Couldn’t. Shock. He was in shock, a small, still rational part of him noted. There was no other way to explain how he’d been staring up at the grey sky, with its low-hanging clouds –his servo-less arms lifted weightlessly above him, seeping energon- and not realize what was happening to him all this time.

He was going to die....

As if waking, his systems struggled to counteract this, to change his seemingly hopeless state. Transformation requests pinged across his HDU; operating functions calculating the rate of his descent and estimated time of impact, alarms starting to ring as he plummeted farther down Delphi’s mountainside.

Just when he felt himself pull enough away from his shell to panic, the apathy reached back out, wrapping its talons around him and dragging him back under again. This was for the best, his processor soothed his fragile self, its logic infallible. 

 

If he transformed now, he would die a painful, excruciating, rotting death. Falling, crashing, was a much more kinder end. And this way he’d be free from his trivial worries! No longer would he have to bother himself with the DJD, or fulfilling his quotas, or trying to escape Tarn.... In a way, he had actually won.

Delphi was no more –a useless, virus-ridden pock on the planet; inaccessible to even the DJD. Tarn would not get his cogs from here, and he.... he would be free. No more threats, no more punishments.... no more anything.... It was not as he had initially planned (he had still sought to live), but with this, he had back-handed Tarn for all his ruthless sadism.

It was a victory.

It was control he alone could possess.

Smiling, cursing the one who had severed his servos and sent him into this inescapable fall in the first place, Pharma offlined his optics; listening as his proximity alarms shrieked their desperation as he rushed to the ground below.