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
That he has the gall isn't surprising. Far from it. It's everything he's come to expect of the man.
But there is some relief in knowing that now, he understands. He's seen for himself what transpired, and knows where Locus stands on the matter. Perhaps now he'll be a little less concerned that Locus is going to turn around and murder all of his comrades just to make some sort of point. What that point is, he couldn't begin to guess, but that had obviously been some sort of concern of his.
There is no victory in this. Only a sense of finality as he turns away, back towards the glass and the vast blackness beyond. This, whatever this is, is going to be the starting point for whoever he decides to become.
He still hasn't the faintest idea who that is. Whatever is left of Locus that can be refashioned and reforged to this new purpose, perhaps.