legionworld | Legion World's fine but it ain't home [Open]

Who: Sawtooth and whomever would like to join him
What: The Time Trapper's newest acquisition is more than a little freaked out by, well, everything and tries to adjust.
Where: All over the ship, namely the observation and hab decks
When: After THATH/OM/GAU
Warnings/Notes: None so far - just a lot of introspection.

It's a lot to take in, all of a sudden. They'd won; Starscream had been apprehended; he'd been on his way with his brothers to start a new life in safety-

And then he'd been here, and found out that all of existence could be ending if someone didn't do something about it, and he'd been asked to help. The whole of existence needed help, and they'd grabbed him. Not Aerobolt, or Strongarm, or Optimus Prime; him.

It all made Starscream seem small, and Sawtooth even smaller by comparison.

He'd said yes, of course. He couldn't not say yes - not when he can help. Not when he can make a difference, hopefully for the better.

For now, though, he's trying to get his bearings. It's loud on Legion World, and busy, and full of species he's never seen before, but somehow the biggest change is that everything seems to be sized for him and not someone five times his size. It's nice to have everything at his eye level, or only slightly above it, instead of twenty feet in the air and too large for him to manipulate without acrobatics or creative thinking. Buzzstrike in particular would be thrilled-

Buzzstrike isn't here. No one is.

He shakes the thought and moves on, poking his head into lounges and the sim room and the mess hall, and stopping at the observation deck. He's never really gotten the opportunity to really look at Earth. Sure, he'd glanced at it upon approach once, but they'd all been too busy trying to convince the Scavengers to leave Earth for him to ever appreciate the planet, even if he'd wanted to. Earth was dangerous for them.

But here, as he stands and stares at the view, it's...beautiful. Now that it's no longer a danger to him, he can appreciate it at his leisure.

He's starting to discover he can appreciate a lot more without the threat of Starscream hovering over him like a lightning storm.

The habitat deck, as it turns out, is a lot more confusing than the rest of the ship, the way it switches from one completely alien landscape to another the longer he walks. He's walked through more than one biome that he knows doesn't belong to him, trying not to disturb the occupants and silently hoping that they're somewhere else. Trespassing is a poor first impression.

He finds the wrong beach twice before he happens upon the one that he knows is his; after all, nowhere else on this deck looks like Cybertron. The beach spans into the horizon, metal gravel along the shoreline interspersed with huge steely boulders and a sea that glistens silver in the light. It's not home - he's in the wrong dimension, and Cybertron can't ever be home again - but it looks like it, and for now, that's good enough.

His brothers would love to see this.

He clambers to the top of one of the boulders, takes a seat, and stares out to sea, finally letting himself think about how much he misses them.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

As the Cybertronian was making his way through all the differing biomes on the habitat deck, as jolting as it was to switch landscapes so much, perhaps the one that stunned him the most was moving from a metropolitan area of one biome to a completely flat space. For a stretch of the area, there was nothing in the area, just a pale grey floor that was hard to tell if it was meant to be metal or something earthy.

Other biomes could be seen on the edges, but the one Sawtooth was in seemed barren... except for one small area that looked like a pond with trees and bridges, rather reminiscent of an old Earth painting. Should he choose to enter the water garden, he would find that the edges to everything seemed to be purposefully blurred, like it was hard to bring specific things into full focus.

All except the woman on the bridge, laying upon her back with her eyes closed. She was completely defined and not nebulous like the garden about her...

This certainly is odd.

Admittedly, Sawtooth hasn't been familiar with a lot of the biomes he's come across, but at least most of them have looked like actual places. This one seems...he doesn't quite have the words for it. Ethereal might come to a more poetic mind, but Sawtooth is just confused.

He shouldn't be here - this obviously isn't his biome, and he isn't sure how touchy its occupant might be in terms of trespassing - but he needs to find his beach, and it might be on the other side of this...whatever this is. Passing through is the expedient route - maybe it won't matter, as long as he's careful.

It's not until he gets closer that he sees the person (human? do humans even come in that color?) on the bridge. By that point, it's too late to try to avoid bothering her; metal footsteps on anything but the softest of terrain are anything but quiet, and Cybertronians aren't exactly known for their subtlety. He pauses, and starts to make his way around the bridge. Maybe she won't mind, or maybe she's a heavy sleeper. He can hope.

Unfortunately for him, Widowmaker wasn't asleep at all despite her eyes being closed. She had been merely resting, trying to calm the static in her mind, when her biome was invaded. It was an odd thing to hear someone walking through it, so when those heavy footsteps drew near, she opened her eyes to look at the...

Shark?

Metal shark.

"I do not get visitors."

She sure is awake. Sawtooth takes a few reflexive steps backwards and raises an arm, but...she doesn't move, aside from opening her eyes and talking to him.

Huh.

"I didn't mean to intrude," he says, by way of apology and also because it's the truth. "I'm new here, and I can't find my area." He pauses. It may not be the smartest question, but she doesn't seem angry and hasn't moved yet and he's curious and has to know: "Is this where you come from?"

"In a matter of speaking."

It wasn't too far off from the truth, if she really thought about it. For the last seven or eight years (she couldn't recall anymore), it felt as though she was from nothing more solid than an Impressionist painting. The edges were fuzzy and save for a few things, nothing felt defined as it should be. It was complicated, to the say the least.

Widowmaker slowly rolled to her side and then up to sit, legs tucked underneath her. "This place does not actually exist anywhere but in a painting in my world."

Sawtooth tries parsing that several different ways, but to no avail - as far as he can tell, it just doesn't make sense. "You live in a painting?"

Then again, there are people here from all walks of life. This person might actually live in a painting. He doesn't know.

Widowmaker was silent for a moment, just looking at the metal shark, then she shook her head. "How could a person live in a painting? That seems rather nonsensical."

There's a bit of internal sputtering while Sawtooth sorts that out. "I don't know, how do humans live in space? How do rings make you fly? None of this is anything like what I know, and evidently there are people from all sorts of different dimensions here, so why wouldn't one of those dimensions have people that live in paintings?" He's confused, not stupid.

There wasn't even a twitch on her face as she listened to him. The answer to his questions were easy - technology - but she doubted he would listen to reason. A bit too worked up, the shark was.

"It was a metaphor."

"How is any of this a metaphor?" His tone is far less indignant now; still, he'd appreciate it if this person started making any sort of sense.

"Impressionism. The viewing of life through a filter where the edges blur and things are not defined with sharp lines. A softer perception, some would say, seeing with the heart and not the eye," she explained. "That is why my being from this place was a metaphor. I am from the planet Earth in the late twenty-first century."

...it still doesn't make any sense, but Sawtooth isn't terribly willing to push it. The explanation might cover the odd painting biome itself, but not why she chose it or what it's supposed to be a metaphor for, and he has the feeling that he's not going to get those answers without a long string of very frustrating questions.

"Okay." Forget it. "Nice to meet you?"

That was an astute conclusion for him to come to as the real answers he would need were ones she couldn't give, even if she wanted to. But she was more than willing to let it go as he did.

"A pleasure. I have never conversed with a shark before."

"I'm a Minicon, actually." He gets the distinct impression that Earth sharks aren't exactly talkative, and he knows that Sharkticons tend to be unfriendly at best.

Widowmaker hadn't heard the term minicon before, but she had met Prowl and learned what Cybertronians were. She also recalled the car-bot telling her that there were Cybertronians that didn't have a humanoid form, but a beast one instead. Such as a shark. The conclusion was easy to make.

"Ah. I have heard that your kind faces discrimination among your people for retaining a beast shape instead of a humanoid one." She waved a hand dismissively. "Rubbish. You converse just as well as the other one."

Legion World's fine but it ain't home [Open]

Habitat Deck

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