LOCUS (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
agnominal) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionworld2016-11-29 05:47 pm
agnominal) wrote in legionworld2016-11-29 05:47 pm
Entry tags:
going native
Who| Locus and YOU? Open.
What| Newcomer to the Legion finding his feet.
Where| Wandering around Legion at large. Locations will be notated.
When| /coughs vaguely and gestures randomly
Warnings/Notes| n/a
It was difficult, even now, to part with the armor. He'd born its weight, its visage, its name for years now, rather than his own. If this was truly meant to be a new start, he should start by leaving it behind. He was no longer meant to be simply a weapon, a gun, but a warrior earning worthiness.
But some habits are difficult to break. He's not ready to show his face. Not yet.
So, on the initial walkthrough of what is expected to be home base for some time, Locus does so in full armor. It does much to ease his sense of discomfort in finding himself in unfamiliar territory, surrounded by strangers, alone. But the way that helmet turns to side-eye people who pass speak volumes about that unease, even if his expression isn't visible.
It's easy enough to find himself on a self-guided path. Past crew quarters, through the mess hall, past the training room and holodeck, before halting briefly on the observation deck for a time. This, at least, feels familiar. The vast emptiness of the black void, dotted with cold, distant lights, and the looming shape of a planet beneath that would be satisfied to drag them down to its surface in a fiery heap.
So he's in a cheerful mood, in other words. Surely not too intimidating a figure to be spoken to.
What| Newcomer to the Legion finding his feet.
Where| Wandering around Legion at large. Locations will be notated.
When| /coughs vaguely and gestures randomly
Warnings/Notes| n/a
It was difficult, even now, to part with the armor. He'd born its weight, its visage, its name for years now, rather than his own. If this was truly meant to be a new start, he should start by leaving it behind. He was no longer meant to be simply a weapon, a gun, but a warrior earning worthiness.
But some habits are difficult to break. He's not ready to show his face. Not yet.
So, on the initial walkthrough of what is expected to be home base for some time, Locus does so in full armor. It does much to ease his sense of discomfort in finding himself in unfamiliar territory, surrounded by strangers, alone. But the way that helmet turns to side-eye people who pass speak volumes about that unease, even if his expression isn't visible.
It's easy enough to find himself on a self-guided path. Past crew quarters, through the mess hall, past the training room and holodeck, before halting briefly on the observation deck for a time. This, at least, feels familiar. The vast emptiness of the black void, dotted with cold, distant lights, and the looming shape of a planet beneath that would be satisfied to drag them down to its surface in a fiery heap.
So he's in a cheerful mood, in other words. Surely not too intimidating a figure to be spoken to.
no subject
"Oh! I'm Nita Prentiss. Nice to meet you." She extends a hand in an offer to shake, smiling up at where his eyes should be. The armor looks somewhat similar to Wash and Grif's, but how many ways are there to design armor for a humanoid form, really?
Ooh! Maybe he's a robot! She's unclear on the etiquette of asking that sort of question, however, and decides to wait until it comes up organically in conversation.
no subject
His hand extends for a brief, firm shake of hers, dropped as soon as it seems appropriate to. "Locus," he replies, with none of the niceties or formalities. It's not an attempt to be rude outright, just a combination of habit and practicality.
You don't worry about civility much on the front line of a war. Adjusting to a more...social operation is going to be trying. But he does intend to try, at least.