milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

bumblebee,
deerskin

(no subject)

Whatever happens at home with the big reveal and its aftermath, one thing remains certain: building stuff to the Autobots' scale is expensive. The American government doesn't really have that kind of budget at this point. Thus, Bee hasn't asked about a training grounds for his own skills as opposed to mere target practice. He just comes to Milliways instead. Weighing only 240 pounds and being human-sized means you can use most human-scale equipment instead.

Or, you know, the rafters, which probably shouldn't be considered equipment. That's where the little yellow-and-chrome mech is at the moment, doing his best to emulate the unstable ground forms of an unarmed combat form called 'circuit-su' without having a partner.

He's not trying to be especially quiet, but Bee's the polite sort. He'll stop making a fuss if it bothers people.

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John had been up in the rafters earlier, except likely staying quieter and doing quite a bit more sneaking than Bumblebee. Now, though, he's just sitting above the fireplace, watching the Bar at larger while they carry about their business.

He's being kind and pretending not to notice Bee, who looks like he's concentrating very hard.

A human might be panting by the end of it, but Bumblebee doesn't have lungs. He just stops to let various fluid supplies refill and coolant make its way to various joints of his. That's about the point where he notices he's got company.

"Oh. Didn't notice you there."

"Oh, that's good. Trying to be stealthy, you know? What form was that, by the way?"

"A style of my native planet. I haven't found any Earth analogues. Your joints don't rotate and bend the way ours do," says Bumblebee. "That one was from the art of circuit-su. Metallikato requires weaponry."

"Ah, interesting... Are you the same race as Ironhide, then?"

"Very much so, although he's the oldest of us Autobots alive and so far as we know, I'm the youngest," says the little mech. "I'm called Bumblebee."

"John. Dr. John Vattic. Pleased to meet you, Bumblebee." He's not sure if Transformers shake hands, so he holds his back. "So, you practice in the rafters regularly?"

They don't, but Bee and Optimus have been learning to do so very carefully for diplomacy's sake.

"When I can, yes. We don't have the facilities to do this kind of thing at home. It would take far too long and cost far too much to build to our normal scale, so I have to work on the ground there."

"Yeah, I can see where that might be a problem in a government with normal infrastructure. I like it up here because I can practice my stealthing without ticking anyone off."

"And how does that work for you, unless you simply refer to moving quietly and staying in shadows?" asks Bumblebee, interested.

"Mostly, yeah. But I can actually turn..." John thinks of how to put it into words. "Well, not invisible--it's more like convincing the people around me I don't exist. Doesn't work with machines, though. You'd know I was here, and once you spotted me, it'd be like a wetware crash for me."

"Ah. So it operates against the frequencies of the human brain, then? A type of jamming ability?"

"Close enough, yeah," John allows. "I'm not really sure myself--haven't had a chance to properly study any of it. Someone here seems keen on doing so, and I'm looking forward to it."

"Good luck," says Bumblebee politely. "I think I'd like to hear about it, myself. I didn't know humans could do that."

"Well, they can on my world," John explains. "Or I can. Others can supposedly, but there's no conclusive evidence. I'm psychic, if that means anything to you."

Bumblebee thinks for a moment.

The theme from the X-Files might just start playing.

John cracks up.

"Not quite as--actually, if my life wasn't so downright serious and horrible, it might read like an episode of the X-Files. Sadly."

Bumblebee cuts off the music. "That bad?" he asks. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Well, not as bad as some people's, that's for sure. But definitely less cheese than the X-Files. But thanks."

Bumblebee nods. "Should I ask for details, or would it be best to let things lie?"

"Well, it doesn't really matter... told enough people details. It started when I woke up in a medical facility with no idea who or what I was... and then I was able to open my restraints, and operate the switch to get out of the room. Come to find out that the government's got goons waiting to pick me up, and an entire hospital after me... and it only goes downhill from there."

A human would shiver. Bumblebee only stares a moment, optics still, and then nods.

He has a very small something of an idea.

"Yup. But it's my life, so. I have to deal with it, and other people have it way worse than me here."

"Oh," says Bumblebee, thinking of what happened under the Hoover Dam, "I know how that is."

"Yeah." John sobers a little more. "Ironhide mentioned some of your history. It's... yeah. Again, worse than me."

"We go on," says Bumblebee with a shrug. "We all do. Humans and Autobots alike. I've noticed you're very, very good at it as a species. It's a good thing to learn from."

"Stubborn, definitely. And it is."

Gordon's people, them being able to stay alive... it gives him hope for his own problems. And talking to that blond guy the other night did the same thing.

"And resilient. You take steps to rebuild yourselves that other species can't even think to do, sometimes."

Blink.

"Really? How do you figure?"

"I believe the phrase you use is 'coping mechanisms'? Humans can overcome the things that traumatize their minds in all kinds of ways, from what I've seen. Understand, my species has no capacity to forget except to do so permanently, by overwriting our storage. The most we can do is put other memories between the painful ones and now until the seek time is so great that it takes too long to remember conveniently. You can put things aside and process them later, or let them fade."

"Yeah, well. Sometimes it'd be nice to have your kind of recall," John says bitterly. "Trust me."

Lissar waves when she notices him, although she's not intending to interrupt his practice.

It's all right. He catches sight of the movement- Lissar stands out, after all- and brings the current routine to a close before waving back.

"How goes it, my friend?" she asks at the return wave.

"Well enough for now," says Bumblebee, balancing on one of the rafters. "And yourself?"

"The same." Lissar says with a small nod, "Demyx is healing well, I think. I must leave a note for his Organization."

"Is there anything I can do to be of assistance?" Bumblebee asks. "I know I'm not Ironhide, but..."

"Demyx likes music, Bumblebee." Lissar says softly, "You're better for him than my beloved is."

"Well, I had meant for you," says Bumblebee, "but if I can help him that way I'll be glad to do so."

Lissar smiles and says, "I am doing fine, my friend, but I thank you. It - has been difficult, because Demyx is so wounded, but I think good for me as well."

"I would say Ironhide worries about you, but I think you already know that," says Bumblebee. "I'll tell him you said so, if you like."

"If you think it would do him good to hear." Lissar says, "Although perhaps I should tell him, myself?"

"Either one would be good," Bumblebee says. "So long as he knows."

"I will do so, then." Lissar says firmly, "As soon as I get home."

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