nexus_sages | (no subject)

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Until he joined the crew of the Lost Light, Pipes had only ever been on Cybertron and space stations. And so, he joined up to see the universe, and have adventures, and make friends. He was very eager, very enthusiastic, very excited to be on his way.

Unfortunately, most people don't really like being around someone who's very eager, very enthusiastic, and very excited. Most people find that very annoying. So the making friends thing didn't really pan out all that well.

And as for adventures...mostly, he got hurt. He got shot and sick and hurt. Which...are sort like adventures. Maybe? At least he got to see some of the universe. He also got to see a lot of the medibay.

Then he saw the bottom of Overlord's foot. A few times, actually.

And then? Then, well. Then he died.

And that's where we come in...

A small mech wanders into the Nexus...well, he's small by Cybertronian standards. To the average humanoid, sixteen feet is possibly not that small. It's funny how that works, isn't it?

He looks around, optics bewildered behind their visor shield. "Um," he says after a moment, fingers twisting together with soft metallic whirs. "Um, is this the Afterspark? Cos...this is not at all what I was picturing."

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There will likely be plenty of people more interested in robot-back rides. Other small, squishy humans like herself. Or people who look like humans, anyway.

The lies make the corner of her left eye twitch, which can be hard to see behind the glasses, but the distinctive downward twist of her lips is easy to spot. "If you say so."

He will gladly give all of those people robot-back rides. It’ll be brilliant.

He tilts his head curiously. He knows that distinctive downward twist of the lips. He sees it a lot. “I’m. Um. I’m sorry.”

Edited 2016-08-22 06:57 (UTC)

It'll be adorable. Ver will be taking lots of pictures if she finds out ~~for blackmail~~.

...shit. She's being trying so hard to be better about that. "No," she sighs, "you didn't know. And now is not the time for you to focus on my issues. Let's just... figure out what you need and go from there, okay?"

Absently, his fingers begin to twist together. He really, really doesn’t want to upset anyone, or make them feel bad. “Oh. Oh, I don’t imagine I’d need anything, what with the...uh. The being dead. Thing. So you shouldn’t worry about it. At all.”

Oh, he's in for a world of hurt if he starts assuming everything wrong with Verity is his fault. "I won't worry, but I'd like to help. You aren't at all curious why you're here and not where you expected to be? Figuring that out might be a good idea."

He’s pretty much convinced that most of the bad things that have happened to him over the last year have been his fault. And a lot of bad things have happened. A lot. Self-blame has now become kind of a Thing.

Still, he nods slightly, optics wide. “...yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right. I was just gonna, you know, go with it? But figuring stuff out is a better idea.”

She'd take him out for drinks to swap stories about the shit they both feel responsible for, but she has a feeling he's not the sort to enjoy a nice whisky.

"The problem with going with the flow is that you might not always like where you end up. But... if you're not ready to think about it, it can wait until you're ready to talk about it."

Not a nice whiskey, no, but give him a strong engex and a crazy-straw, and he’ll be super into it.

“Yeah, no, you’re right. I should do this. Avoiding the issue won’t make it go away, right? Right. Okay. So. I’m gonna sit down and then. Then we’ll work this out. I’ll work this out.”

"Right." She glances around and then juts her chin in the direction of a wall that should be sturdy enough to serve as a bench for him. "We'll figure this out."

He nods and sits carefully, folding his hands in his lap. "Right. So. Do I, uh, do I just...start with what I remember?"

"That's probably the easiest place to start," she agrees after a moment's thought. Ver curls up on the wall near him, far enough back that she's not going to strain herself looking up at him. "I've never done this before, so... can't say I'm entirely sure."

"I've never done this before either...so...if we both thing it's the place to start, then it must be so." He nods solemnly. "So. So I was on the ship. The Lost Light. It's a hop ship, y'know?" Because she'll totally know what he's talking about. "And. And, um, it was movie night and I was in a hurry cos I hate to miss the beginning."

She can make some educated guesses from context. A 'hop ship' sounds like something meant for long-distance travel, possibly in space. (She has met people and read things, and let's face it, that's not so unheard of where she's from.) (Also her possibly racist belief that robot societies have to be more technologically advanced, because robots.) "And since you were in a hurry, you...?"

She's pretty close on all of that...even the vaguely racist notion that robots have to be more technically advanced. Because they kind of are.

"I went into my alt-mode, so I could go faster. And then I ran into, um, Primus, I don't even know who he was, but he was huge and I ran into his leg. I should've been paying more attention, but I was in a hurry. I apologized, but..." He shakes his head. "I guess I made him mad, 'cos then he smashed me up. With his foot."

She doesn't mean to be racist, she isn't even really aware of the racism. She is imperfect and has tried very hard to accept all the kinds of people there were back home and that's a lot of change for any one person to manage in a lifetime.

"Alt-mode?" And now he's lost her. "I'm sorry that happened."

It's not terribly racist, and he wouldn't be offended if he knew.

"Oh, uh. I can...well. My people, where I come from, we can change into other things. Vehicles, mostly, sometimes animals. And my friend Rewind turned into a giant memory stick, can you imagine? Then there's mono-formers, but now I'm getting off the subject and I don't much like to talk politics. Anyway. Alt-mode. Alternate. So...like I am now? That's Robot-mode. That's basically the default. But see, we can also do this..."

He stands and moves a little bit away before transforming into a small vehicle with to large exhaust pipes. "See? Alt-mode!"

She'd be grateful for the little mercies in life if she knew.

Politics? Losing her again. But she'll take as much in as she can. Other questions can, she supposes, wait for later. Plus now he's suddenly a car. That was.

Well.

He did warn her.

"Wow. That's... how are you still talking?"

Alt-modes (or the lack thereof) are Very Serious Business to some Cybertronians. Wars have been fought. People have died. It's all been kind of a mess.

But yes, he's suddenly a car. And he did warn her.

"...uh. Same way I was talking before? Should I not be able to talk?"

Where she comes from, some people have 'alt-modes' in that they're Mutants or Inhumans or have magic or are shapeshifting aliens. That last one is more literal.

"I..." She pauses, takes a breath, and thinks about it. "I guess it's not that different. Sorry. I'm not used to cars talking." No, she never saw that show on tv. Or that one, either. "So... did Primus hurt you on purpose, or do you think maybe it was an accident if he didn't see you?"

"...if they don't talk, how do they communicate? Never mind. Not important." He pauses. "Oh! No, no, uh, it wasn't Primus, Primus is The Creator-God. I'm, I'm sorry. This all must be so confusing to you. The guy that hurt me, he totally meant to do it. He stomped me so much, there was no way it was an accident. Plus, he was looking right at me while he was doing it. It. It was pretty bad."

"They don't. The cars where I came from weren't sentient."

She thinks back, realizes where she misunderstood, and hums softly. Then she shakes her head. "I'm sorry. That must have been horrible."

"What, so they're just...cars...?" The idea of non-sentient cars is just too weird for him and he shifts back, frowning slightly and sitting on the ground.

He's silent for a moment, then sighs. "...thanks. It was pretty bad, yeah. I just hope he didn't hurt anyone else. Especially not anyone important."

"Yeah. Just machinery that people have to steer for themselves, even." That might have been changing soon, except nothing's changing there anymore. Fucking Incursions. On the other hand, her world ended in the poetically-appropriate fire. No stomping. That's something like a mercy.

"I hope so too." She very much doubts it stopped. It sounds too much like an attack, an invasion of some kind. Maybe the rest of his crew lucked out, and it won't hurt her to let him hold onto that hope.

I very much doubts it stopped as well, but he has to hope. "...I sounded the alarm, at least. So. So maybe they had a chance?"

Hope is important. Important enough for her to envy the people who can have it so easily. (Sometimes, you only know the value of a thing by the empty space its lacking leaves.)

He needs his hope, so she'll try to offer him a little reinforcement. Is touching considered comforting for robots? Let's see how it goes. Her hands are so small against him. "Yeah. You died a hero. That's a noble thing."