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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Well, to be fair, nobody could keep Shock and Ore straight except for Shock and Ore. And Pipes had only met the guy once, not too long before the Ore-smashed-inside-a-wall incident. But Pipes is certain they would’ve been friends, so that counts as far as he’s concerned.

“It’s okay. I mean, not okay okay, but...maybe he’s somewhere like this? So maybe it’s not so bad. So...that’s what I mean by ‘okay’...” Because this didn’t seem to be such a bad place to be, honestly.

He sighs softly and glances over at her. “Y’know, I was...I was always pretty sure I didn’t have a purpose. Not really. But maybe I do.”

A fair assessment, no doubt, but she wouldn't know. Ah, the perils of incomplete information. She's got a bad habit of assuming she always knows the whole truth when she hears any.

It's a very sweet and optimistic view of friendship; not one she understands, but one she can envy. Friendship doesn't come easy to her.

"I think I understand," she offers, tilting her head back so she can look up at him. "It helps to think of the people we miss being in a good place where they can be happy." That, she knows.

"Everyone has a purpose." Another strongly-held belief, if one she's more recently come into. "Sometimes we're born to it, sometimes it's given to us, and sometimes we have to make it for ourselves. But everyone, everyone has a purpose."

He nods, sighing. If it would make her feel better, he already considers her his friend as well.

“See, the thing is. Thing thing is that...I dunno. I’m not a very good soldier. And I’m not a very good explorer or adventurer. And those things are what I was made for, y’know? That’s what most of us were made for. “

That's very sweet and would confuse her. Most forms of kindness do.

"Okay." She gives a little shrug. "What are you good at?"

That’s a question he has to think about. He squints at his hands as he thinks. “Honestly? Nothing.”

"I don't believe you." He might believe it, it might even be true, but what kind of help would she be to tell him that?

It wouldn't be much help at all. But...it is kind of true.

He gives her a look. "For a while, I was really good at somehow not dying? Now..." A shrug. "I dunno."

Nobody ever said she can't tell lies. Sometimes, she can even see when they're needed.

He can give her all the looks he wants, she is amazingly immune to such things. She's gotten looks from gods, after all. "Then you'll need to figure that out. Probably would be easier if you let go of the idea of what you're supposed to be good at and let yourself really try other things."

His looks rarely get much of a response anyway so he just sighs.
“I’ve, um. I’ve kinda been a screw-up for hundreds of years now. I’m not sure where to go from there.”

He doesn't have the eyebrows for really good looks. Allow her to demonstrate.

"You think you're a 'screw-up' because you're not good at a couple of things you were told you have to be good at, yeah? So screw that. Like I said, try something new. Try something that looks like fun to you. Try a dozen things that look like fun."

Sadly, few Cybertronians were blessed with eyebrows. Though, most of them can still compensate for this by at least having other facial features. Still, Verity is remarkably good at the look and it makes Pipes hunch his shoulders a bit.

“Yeah, well…” he sighs. “...you’re right. I just. I’m gonna have to think on it, y’know? The last thing I really wanted to be was an adventurer and that whole thing kinda blew up in my face.”

Aw, too much look. She'll scale it back. "Of course. Life changes should be thought about. Just don't get so busy thinking you forget the doing."

Reaching over, she pats his arm again and gives him a little smirk. "I'll remind you about that if you want."

He gives her a rueful look, but there’s amusement in his voice. “Yeah, I’d appreciate that. Sometimes a person needs reminding...y’know...all of this is kinda scary, if you stop and think about it…”

Oh no, not a rueful look. She's never ever had to endure one of those before. Someone help her please.

"Yeah, I know. I was pretty scared when I first got here, too," she admits. "But people helped me, so now I try to help people too. Someday, you'll help people with this. It works out."

((I'm so so sorry I've taken so long to get back. If you don't want to keep going, I understand. I'm terrible.))

The look is so very rueful. It's full of rue. There is no one to help.

"You'd think I'd be braver by now, though." Ah well. "I'll be very helpful, though. Maybe not so brave, but helpful."

((Not terrible at all. Things happen, it's no problem.))

Alas and alack! Whatever shall become of her? What did she ever do to deserve such a cruel fate? What god did she sass? (Wait let her make a list.)

"I'd say you're plenty brave. You're handling this really well. Not everyone is the same kind of brave."

The tragedy of it all!

"Oh, I'm freaking out pretty bad on the inside. I just didn't wanna cry in front of you, after all, we've just met."

It really is a cruel cruel fate for a sweet innocent like her. (It was just the four gods, that's like, hardly anything right?)

"Dude, you're making it hard to be supportive," she points out. "Maybe let's try being more positive?"

Four gods are just fine, once you get over, like, six, you have to worry.

He blinks and covers his face with his hands (not that he really needs to do so) and laughs softly. "Yeah, I know. Sorry. I'm usually much better at the positive thing...it's been a rather long day."

Yelling at Thor doesn't count as sassing, right? Otherwise, she's real close to that line.

Ver reaches over to pat his arm. Or leg. Whatever she can reach. "I know. I'm not good at this sort of thing. We'll muddle through."

That's positively optimistic, coming from her. There are pigs flying somewhere.

Of course it doesn't. Yelling and sassing are two entirely different things.

"'Course we will. Somehow." He sighs wistfully. "All the same...I wish Swerve's Bar had somehow followed me here..."`

Neither of them is very safe. Odinson's temper was legendary, and well...

Best not to think about it.

"There's lots of bars. Might even be some that have something you like to drink," she points out. "We could see if we can find one?" She's got a Starkphone and she's not afraid to use it.

Angry gods are best not thought about, it's true. But yelling and sassing are still entirely different things.

His eyes widen. "D'you think so?" he answers, trying not to sound to eager but totally failing. "If so, that'd be, that'd be real good. I mean, I'm not saying I need it, but I sure could use it..."

Entirely. It's good that someone understands that!

"I know the feeling." Boy, does she ever. "But you need to tell me what to look for before I can look for it?"

"Oh! I'm sorry. Uh. Engex? Preferably? Is that a thing that could happen, maybe?"