//001// stop me if you've heard this one already.

[knightoflight]

This was...not what he expected the afterlife to look like.  That's the first thought, the first conscious thought, he has as he steps inside, gold optics wide with surprise as he looks around. 

He rubs the center of his chassis idly, as though over an old, aching wound. This isn't death. Or Braid's ship, either.

"So," he muses, quietly, "where am I?"

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[3nanashi]

Ah.

"That happens," Trowa agrees, matter-of-factly.

Privately he still finds it a little weird -- and the idea of a dead mech is differently strange -- but Trowa believes in taking things in stride, even if you have to ignore emotions to do it. Ignoring his emotions is a lifelong hobby anyway.

"Maybe if someone else comes here you can find out."

He shrugs, very slightly. "You never know what will be a catalyst to make people rethink things."

After millions of years of the same people warring, Trowa kind of thinks they probably would have already given war up if they were going to. But there's no reason to be pessimistic at the dead guy.

[knightoflight]

"It is...unusual in my world." Maybe not in the human's, though.

"I don't know how likely that is. I've heard there have been Cybertronians here, but none from my world." And two, suddenly? He's holding hope.

He laughs. "More true than you know. I'd thought I was getting through to Drift his way. But it turns out...," he shakes his head. "That wasn't what changed him."

[3nanashi]

Trowa tilts his head slightly in question.

He's not going to pursue the inquiry into what might be a sensitive subject, but Trowa is hardly ever inclined to stop somebody who wants to talk at him.

And he's curious. (Subtly, patiently, and categorically.)

[knightoflight]

A long cycle of air.

"Drift. He was a Decepticon. One of the two factions. He came to my planet. I...it was my fault he got injured, so I brought him to our city. I tried to show him our ways, the peace that we had. I tried by fighting him, every day. If he won, he could leave."

A sad smile at the memory. "He never won."

"But he told us of the danger, the Decepticons coming for us. We had a chance to prepare. And a number of us fought with him, for him. And...I fell."

His hands grab at each other, as though to remind himself he's still alive. Still here.

[3nanashi]

Trowa doesn't understand every nuance here, but he gets enough of the gist.

(And, sadly, I tried to show him our peaceful ways by fighting him every day is logic that makes perfect sense to him.)

It's strange, to see such human gestures from a mecha -- his own world's mobile suits were never made to have that level of idle gesticulation ability, nor would any pilot bother to do that with the controls -- but intuitive, too.

"Maybe that's a start," he says, quietly.

Not necessarily. There are a lot of temporary armistices and individual changes of heart that never got anywhere, in human history.

But you never know. And already, this guy seems the kind of person who wants to have hope.

[knightoflight]

"It is a start, and with Drift, any step is a large one. But he should be free to make his own decision. I have no right to question, or even worry."

Not that it stops him. Drift had betrayed them, but had freely told them afterwards, given them a chance to prepare. And what choice had Drift had after all? The bounty hunter had discovered Drift was on the planet. It was the best decision in an awful situation, a kind of decision the Circle hadn't had to make themselves in centuries.

The wingpanels behind his back rustle, as though he's physically shaking off the thought. "But I apologize for my rudeness. I am Wing."

[3nanashi]

Trowa had been going to say something deadpan and dry about how rights don't usually stop people from worrying. (Unlike repression! Er.)

He's been kind of derailed, though.

Wing? Seriously?

It's not the same, of course -- he knows very what Wing looked like, before it was destroyed, not to mention the fact that that Wing was no more sentient than any good mobile suit -- but all the same the coincidence is enough to keep him still for an instant.

Then: "Trowa Barton," he says.

He doesn't offer a hand, because: logistics.

[knightoflight]

Wing blinks, startled by the other's reaction. The human seemed confused.

Whatever it is seems to pass, and he nods, hesitantly, retreating into a shy formality. "Trowa Barton. I have taken too much of your time."

[3nanashi]

Trowa doesn't smile, because Trowa . . . basically doesn't smile.

If he were someone who believed in normal social cues instead of impassivity he might, though.

(A blinking mech with moving facial features: still kind of disconcerting. If he's right, Wing was surprised by something, but he's not totally sure what. That makes two of them, anyway.)

"I came over," he points out.

"You're fine."

[knightoflight]

"Oh. True." The pinions of his shoulder engines flick, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. This is all a bit...disorienting. Dying. Being here. Being alone."

[3nanashi]

Sorry, Wing. Trowa's being nice, in his way, but the fact remains that Trowa tends to blithely ignore awkwardness in all its forms. Even when he's deliberately causing it.

"Milliways does that."

Not that he has experience with dying, or with being surprised by being alone, but -- yeah.

"I can try to answer questions. If you have any."

[knightoflight]

Wing manages something like a chuckle. "Well, I suppose there is some comfort in the fact that at least I am not alone in my confusion."

He considers. "I suppose my main question is...what next?"

[3nanashi]

Pick an easy question, Wing.

Luckily, Trowa is very pragmatic about basically everything in life. He shrugs slightly.

"Whatever you want."

Yep.

"There are rooms upstairs, but I don't know if they have any to fit your size. There's a garage downstairs." He turns slightly to indicate an elevator, well-hidden on one wall. "And an outdoors through that door. Bar can give you whatever else you need. It runs a tab, but there are funds for Bound or dead people."

[knightoflight]

"Tab." Oh dear. "I...is there anything I can do? I would rather work than live on charity."

Who knew that being dead was this complicated?

[3nanashi]

Trowa's personal feeling is that you're only ever as beholden as you decide you are, but he doesn't opt to share this philosophy.

What he says is, "Sure."

Hmm.

"Some of the jobs might be hard for someone your size." One useful thing about a constant deadpan: Trowa's serious statements are identical to his jokes, just in case this person turns out to be a pilot in a really, really complex mobile suit after all. But he's pretty sure, at this point, that it's not. "Security sometimes has openings, though. And a lot of people tend bar for an evening. You don't need to make a regular commitment for that."

"Beyond that, there are some outside jobs. Or you could trade with other people. There's a rule you'll hear phrased as 'no business in the bar,' but it means no outside grudges. Commerce or trading services is fine. And most dead people seem to be able to go to other people's worlds if it's a short-term visit."

Trowa does not mention that he's picked up basically all this information through years of diligent eavesdropping, rather than actually being told.