Mako Rutledge (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
snoutback) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionworld2017-06-06 06:34 pm
snoutback) wrote in legionworld2017-06-06 06:34 pm
Entry tags:
[CLOSED]
Who| teen!Mako & Sawtooth
What| Shark Convention
Where| Observation Deck
When| Time Ripples
Warnings/Notes| N/A
By now, Mako's been on the tour. He's wandered the diverse biomes of the habitat deck and seen the VR that could conjure anything you could think of, yet there's one place that stayed consistently the same and still hasn't gotten old.
Whenever Mako passes the signs pointing the way toward the observation deck, he has to go in and sit for a while. At least once every day now, he's found himself all the way at the end of the platform, where the view was the best and most vertigo-inducing, wishing there was some way he could snap a picture and send it to his friends back home.
It's on the fourth day that he decides to hell with it. After spending his usual couple of minutes just watching, he pulls out his Omnicom and starts to back up along the rail, trying to get the whole planet in frame -- or at least a decent shot of Australia and New Zealand hanging out in the Pacific. In doing this, what Mako naturally doesn't realize is that he's headed on a collision course.
3, 2,1. Impact.
As he goes to catch himself, the Omnicom clatters to the ground with the camera function still going. One hand grabs the rail, the other flings out behind him and plants on... something.
"Crap. My bad."
He says automatically, before registering that what's underneath his opposite hand is a flat, solid surface that feels almost like chrome. He glances down. He's not the yelping type. His shock reads only on his face when he sees the Omnic.
Or it would've were it not hidden behind a bandana and dark sunglasses.
"Oh---" Shit. "Uh, hi."
Mako slowly removes his hand from the robot's chassis, squeezing it into a preemptive fist by his hip. Not that a punch would do jack to something made of metal if it decided to be angry with him.
What| Shark Convention
Where| Observation Deck
When| Time Ripples
Warnings/Notes| N/A
By now, Mako's been on the tour. He's wandered the diverse biomes of the habitat deck and seen the VR that could conjure anything you could think of, yet there's one place that stayed consistently the same and still hasn't gotten old.
Whenever Mako passes the signs pointing the way toward the observation deck, he has to go in and sit for a while. At least once every day now, he's found himself all the way at the end of the platform, where the view was the best and most vertigo-inducing, wishing there was some way he could snap a picture and send it to his friends back home.
It's on the fourth day that he decides to hell with it. After spending his usual couple of minutes just watching, he pulls out his Omnicom and starts to back up along the rail, trying to get the whole planet in frame -- or at least a decent shot of Australia and New Zealand hanging out in the Pacific. In doing this, what Mako naturally doesn't realize is that he's headed on a collision course.
3, 2,1. Impact.
As he goes to catch himself, the Omnicom clatters to the ground with the camera function still going. One hand grabs the rail, the other flings out behind him and plants on... something.
"Crap. My bad."
He says automatically, before registering that what's underneath his opposite hand is a flat, solid surface that feels almost like chrome. He glances down. He's not the yelping type. His shock reads only on his face when he sees the Omnic.
Or it would've were it not hidden behind a bandana and dark sunglasses.
"Oh---" Shit. "Uh, hi."
Mako slowly removes his hand from the robot's chassis, squeezing it into a preemptive fist by his hip. Not that a punch would do jack to something made of metal if it decided to be angry with him.
EIGHT THOUSAND YEARS LATER I'm good at this I promise
He follows Mako's gaze for a moment. "No, actually. I'm from a planet called Cybertron - it's galaxies away from here." And dimensions, but given the situation here, that goes without saying. "Are you?"
no subject
He can accept time travel. He can accept that there are men flying around in skin-tight bodysuits, given that he's watched some of them train. He can even accept that he just shook hands with a metal shark, but at this point in time he's having some trouble with the idea that an entire race got together and reached a consensus that their planet should be called Cybertron.
"That sounds fake."
no subject
Really.
"So did Earth, the first time I heard about it." Sure, he's being arch, but it's not as though the conversation doesn't call for it.
no subject
"Can't get much lazier than naming your planet after dirt."
For what it's worth, he gives a wry smile beneath the bandana, cloth tugging around the swell of his rounded cheeks. Better to laugh about universal absurdities than stew in existential dread.
"Yours is more..." he starts again, rolling the thought over on his tongue. "Like somebody smashed words together until they got something cool." Mako shrugs. "Maybe it's translating funny."
no subject
"I could show you part of it." The words are out almost before he thinks about them, but...well, why not? Legion World is safe, if a little chaotic right now, and it's a friendly gesture. If things go poorly, Sawtooth can always defend himself or escape. "If you wanted."
no subject
Well.
His eyes briefly drift back over his shoulder, one hand reaching up to knead at the back of his neck. Earth wasn't going anywhere. (And staring at it certainly wasn't going to make it any closer.) In a moment, Mako comes to the same conclusion as Sawtooth in regards to how well he'd be able to get the jump on the shark if need be.
It looked like it belonged on a cereal box, after all.
"Yeah, sure?"
Eventually he gives a short wave, indicating that the bot had the go-ahead.
"On the habitat deck, right?"
Maybe he's assuming too much, who knows.
"That's what you mean by a part?"
no subject
It's not a terribly long walk to the elevator, and not terribly long from there to Sawtooth's particular habitat. (He tends to prefer a longer route through the hab deck, just to give himself time to think, but now is not the time to wander.) "Here we are." It's a gravel beach, with pebbles in varying shades of blue, large boulders to sit or lean on, and gentle waves lapping against the shore; the difference is, everything is metal, ocean included.
no subject
Maybe it's all made of metal, but it was a still a beach, and Mako does what any kid who's lived most of his life in an arid almost-desert would do:
He heads straight for the water, abandoning his escort and beginning to stride off at a pace that anyone who isn't six foot or over would have to start jogging in order to keep up with. Though, he eventually winds up stopping just shy of the incoming tide, glancing back toward where he left Sawtooth, whose paint job was really starting to blend into their surroundings.
"This stuff isn't going to melt my skin off, is it?" he calls back.
It's in good humor, but one can probably never be too careful with unidentified alien liquids.
no subject
He...doesn't actually have an answer to that question. "It shouldn't?" he tries after a moment of thought, and...no, that's not convincing. "I mean, I don't think a human has ever been on Cybertron, but I also don't think the Legion engineers would put anything that caustic to humans somewhere anyone could walk into it."