[open] a large sheltered metal person does mundane house chores

[pffft]

Who| Prowl and you!
What| Prowl unpacks at his robot house and checks out the new neighborhood
Where| Cybertronian chunk of the habitat zone and other places
When| Before/After the current plots; Could work either way.
Warnings/Notes| N/A?

Habitat Zone

Fitting comfortably into the Crew Barracks is something of a challenge for Prowl, so he opts for the next best thing: living in the very vertical, very large, very empty space building that is Iacon Mechaforensics. At least the glowing sign in the front (helpfully inscribed in his native Neocybex), was a welcoming, radioactive-colored neon. He already practically lived at work back home, may as well outfit it to make it official.

One will find the large front door open, with Prowl beginning to clean and stash the building with supplies. He arrives primarily with the glowing, pink cubes of synthesized energon, but also with mechanical parts for outfitting the different rooms for habitation. The young Cybertronian spends his day chest-deep in the mechanical systems of cubicles, desks, and a breakroom to serve the liquid energon, physically wiring and otherwise connecting the insular systems of his home planet with that of the new, outside world. The exception to this are rooms where more sensitive information is held: archives, a Cybertronian surgical suite, chemical analysis labs - in these he is quick to set up new security locks to avoid unwanted intrusion.

If not caught supplying, wiring machinery, safely stocking violently explosive liquid energon, or doing other such mundane house chores, Prowl eventually stops to do one last important task: complying with standardized Legionnaire uniform regulation.

Sitting idly on the empty, bare reception desk is some kind of space stencil to imprint the Legion's insignia onto the metal surface of his frame. Prowl eventually stops near the desk to clean off his wings and begin the process of doing just that - although with some difficulty. 

General

Through the hallways of the Legion World hovers a space car that looks right at home in the futuristic moon-city. It may rush past you a bit too closely - Prowl's homeworld wasn't exactly a planet full of squishy pedestrians and he was still learning to deal with that fact. A closer look into its cockpit reveals one interesting little detail: there's no one driving it. Instead, it is filled with supplies, be it a repair tool or canisters of fuel. 

Of course, it's not too much of an oddity. It could always be an automated computer program controlling the thing. However, the very curious sounding voice coming from somewhere on the vehicle might indicate something else entirely as it slows to a stop.

"Fascinating. This ship is eerily reminiscent of Luna 2. I almost expect to see Cybertron glowing back at me when I look outside."

Is it talking to itself? It's talking to itself.

Comments

General

[araignee_du_soir]

Unlike some of the others about, Widowmaker wasn't bothered by the presence of a speeding hovering vehicle down the passage. She was from a version of Earth that had such technology, plus she had complete confidence in her enhanced reflexes to get out of the way if necessary. It seemed such wouldn't be needed as the vehicle slowed down before passing near. She barely paid it any attention until it spoke.

Turning on a foot to look directly at it, Widowmaker raised an eyebrow. Was this another like HAL-Fred Glitchbot ?

"Excusez-moi... Are you an omnic?"

Re: General

[pffft]

Ah, a human!

At least, he thought it was a human. Did humans come in blue? He's fairly certain humans weren't the only ones who did. Nebulans were also blue, but they'd recognize a Cybertronian, surely. He clearly had some more research to commit to memory. Organics could be so tricky to identify when they look so similar.

Time to be strategically vague.

"Unless an 'Omnic' is what your species uses to refer to Cybertronians, then the answer to your question would be no."

[araignee_du_soir]

Meeting another blue human would be very odd for Widowmaker given she hadn't always been such. She'd wonder what experimental procedures had been done to them, dredging up flashes of memories she preferred to pretend didn't exist. The response she was given to her question was met without the slightest twinge in her expression.

"I do not know if that is true," she replied. "You appear to be an omnic, but perhaps you are merely similar. Will you describe Cybertronian characteristics to me?"

[pffft]

"Well, aside from the obvious implications inherent in the demonym itself, we generally have two forms: one bipedal and the other a vehicle or object that tends to perform some type of function. "

"Er - Not to say a function is a requirement, but that can be applied to a large swath of the population," Prowl wasn't sure about human opinions of Cybertron's tenets of functionism, so he opts to be diplomatic on a rather sensitive topic.

"Some have three forms, others prefer to remove their t-cog and their ability to transform for religious reasons or as a form of protest. Other Cybertronians still change between a beast mode and vehicle mode and hold no bipedal form altogether, though they are generally the unfortunate recipients of discrimination because of it-"

He stops himself, realizing he might be tacking on a needless amount of detail.

"Anyway, before you ask, no, we don't have an organic creator. We form in the crust of our planet or are built by other Cybertronians. Does that fulfill the answer you're looking for?"

[araignee_du_soir]

Needless though that added information was in regards to the question asked, it wasn't lost on Widowmaker. It was somewhat fascinating to hear of discrimination within the society of these beings for something she could only deduce was considered barbaric or primitive. Not that it altered her opinion at all about these Cybertronians.

"It does. Merci." So, advanced omnics. She idly wondered if Sombra could hack this one; she'd have to ask her comrade later. "This place is certainly a bastion of diversity."

[pffft]

"It is. The Primal Vanguard back on Cybertron do not tend to publish the details of their off-world peacekeeping efforts for one reason or another. My experience here insofar leads me to think it's quite a shame, even with the unfortunate tensions between species."

Never had a car sounded so enthusiastic about learning about organics, yet here he was.

"Speaking of which - what are the characteristics of your species? Some differences between organics can be so minute that they are difficult to differentiate, so I am curious to hear your perspective."

Habitat Zone

[rushing_by]

Barry pauses outside the new building, and looks up to read the sign emblazoned on it. His telepathic earplugs translate the alien language into something that sounds right up his alley. Maybe he'd have a chance to meet a fellow CSI.

"Anybody home?" he asks as he wanders in, tapping on the metal walls.

General

[thedreamisdead]

A robot car. With no owner inside and seemingly not on its way to anywhere specific. America's been watching it trundle about the hallways aimlessly, driving too fast for public safety and without any respect for normal traffic rules, for the past half hour. At the end of it, she's seen enough.

As it pulls to a stop again, she approaches, silently scratching something down on the pad in her hands. Without a word, she tears a strip of paper off and sticks it to the windshield, smoothing it out with her hand to make sure the adhesive will take.

...It's a traffic citation.

"Move along to a garage."

General

[prettycoolguy]

Considering that the Chief has taken off down a Legion World corridor at full speed in a half ton of power armor in the past, there's perhaps a bit of karmic justice in him having to duck aside.

"Watch!" he barks.

Why the hell is there a car in here?!

[araignee_du_soir]

No one had ever asked her to describe humanity before. It made Widowmaker pause and furrow her brow a bit in thought.

"Humanity is a breathing tangle of contradictions and emotions, a beautiful yet annoying mess that is driven by compulsion, philosophy and an inability to leave things alone." Words delivered with seemingly zero attachment to them. "We are adaptive, but we are also very stubbornly set in our ways."

[pffft]

Prowl is buried waist-deep in a wall panel, essentially leaving a pair of gigantic ten foot long legs to greet Barry as he wanders inside.

"By the Warrior's Gate-" he shouts as something sparks out of the wall, the lights flickering on and off before they settle, and Prowl sits up out of the panel with a few tools in hand.

He sighs, before spotting the human at the entrance. The Cybertronian tilts his head.

"Do you need something?"

[pffft]

Prowl knows a traffic citation when he sees one, and can't help but feel deeply embarrassed. Him - with a citation. Tumbler would have burst out laughing and not stopped for several minutes, that scoundrel. Perhaps he should have become more familiar with the local traffic laws before he began to take on the assignment of setting up his own quarters.

Either way, he doesn't complain. He broke a rule and will take the reprimand in kind. However, the Legionnaire's demand leaves him for a bit of a loop.

"I have come to understand that I am to begin to assemble appropriate quarters in the habitat zone. Is being placed in a garage a part of the penalty?"

[pffft]

Although Prowl is more than capable enough to avoid hitting pedestrians, robot reflexes and all, his encounter with Chief was uncomfortably close.

He pulls to a stop, just to make sure he didn't hurt someone. The last thing he wanted was to start making a mess on the first organic world he's temporarily taken as a home.

"My apologies for the scare."

[thedreamisdead]

Great. A lippy robot. She opens her mouth for an automatic retort, then closes it. 'Habitat zone', huh? A Legionnaire then, not someone's poorly programmed porterbot. She takes in the alien design and huffs a little. Well, if flight rings could be made in its size, then having an extra transport couldn't hurt too much.

"It would if you were owned by someone. Depends on whether you're an independent vehicle or someone's intelligent transport." She can practically feel the sting of her daystick smacking against the palm of her hand. Unfortunately, the Legion frowns on that kind of intimidation, and the daystick remains dangling from her belt. "If it's the former, I'd suggest reading up on traffic regulations as soon as possible."

[rushing_by]

"Not...exactly?" Barry says, a little awkwardly. The fact that the building's occupant is a giant robot throws him for a bit of a loop, even if he has seen stranger things.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything. I'm Barry Allen, the Flash. I just saw the sign on the building when I was walking past and got curious. Mostly because I'm a forensic scientist when I'm not being a superhero."

[prettycoolguy]

The Chief straightens. It may have been merely close, without contact, but his has been a life best lived taking no chances with this sort of thing.

"This is too close quarters for a vehicle," he says. The reprimand is there, but his tone is even. This unknown driver hasn't been belligerent.

Driver?

Wait.

"Where are you?"