2016-06-26 A Voice in Matters
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|A Voice in Matters|
|Location||Lost Light - Recreation -- Observation Deck|
|Participants||Windblade, Arbiter, Gearstrip, Gearshift, Penchant, Skystalker, Tourniquet|
|Summary||Neutrals gather to discuss their place in the Lost Light crew.|
The observation deck has a guard tonight, but it is certainly more subtle than that: Chromia stands near the entrance to ensure that those with a badge know that they are not welcome for an hour. It also gives her a prime vantage spot to watch the gathered neutrals. And across the room from her bodyguard, Windblade sits with the vista of Velocitron glowing brightly in the dark space behind her. She sits at a table set ahead of the other neutrals, with Penchant and Skystalker seated there as well. But she is the first to speak, to give a respectful tip of her chin and offer, "Thank you for coming. I know this might seem-- unusual, given everything, but we wanted to gather those of us without badges to talk about the unique situations we find ourselves in on this ship and to address some of these concerns. We want to help, to find solutions to any problems that you might have. And with that-- We wanted to invite you to talk about your issues with us."
Her hand lifts, offering the floor to those between her and Chromia with a sweeping hand gesture.
Gearstrip sits perched on one of the chairs in the observation deck that has been cycled out of its retractable space in the floor, one leg folded beneath her and the other dangling. The chair is too high up for her, but she doesn't seem especially bothered by that. She watches Windblade speak with alert interest, but does not immediately volunteer herself to step forward and say much.
Gearshift looks around the table, around the room. Her only really negative experience was the fight with Bulkhead but that was. She had lost her cool and gotten upset. Other than that no one seemed to mind that she was a neutral in the first place.
Penchant is sitting there with growing shame as he hadn't realized particular mechs he'd seen day to day were actually neutrals. He sinks a little in his chair, slouching to the right, palm against his face. "More specifically anything you notice that might create unrest... or tension between factions."
The chairs in the observation deck may not be intended to be leaned back in; Arbiter seems unconcerned. His feet spread apart, gently tipping his chair back and forth in the universally known relaxed stance. The floor around him appears to be glittered with dull orange specks. "I dunno about issues, but. I'll give my thoughts when it makes sense," he adds, thoughtfully.
Skystalker sits in quiet at the seat he's been given, and for the most part remains a still statue there, waiting for mechs to finish filing in and watching Windblade as she begins speaking. His hands are folded on his knee, and his optics bright. He skims those gathered again, more numerous than he was even aware of. Surely a few are those who have stripped the badges, as well. Skystalker glances down to Penchant, chin jerking up a little when he sees the little guy slouching. "Or even tension between those gathered here." He adds, rather solemnly.
Tourniquet is presently the only Eukarian present, and in full beast mode no less. The long, very very long, snake is nestled more off to the side in a bundle of rustling coils and rattling armor. Her hood shifts and adjusts as she listens to the... Red flying one. But her sharp, red gaze turns to the next two speakes, her head rising with a flick of her tongue. She's not entirely sure of the problem but she's sure this is important. Gotta pay attention. Gotta pay attention. Gotta- why is that standard all pied like that? "Factions are the Decepticon tribe and the red tribe, right? There's not more?" Just to clarify. All this standard stuff was hard to keep straight.
"Decepticons and Autobots, yes," Windblade answers with a tip of her chin towards Tourniquet, not even a little phased by the beastbot as she offers one diplomatic smile to her. "They were involved in a long war between each other, and some of those that are like us, without badges, were caught in the middle. Many of us colonists haven't faced anything like what other have, but we are all one. What concerns anyone should concern us all. There is a voice for the Decepticons in Command, there are many voices for the Autobots. Our own voice is important as well."
"Is there tension between people in here?" Gearstrip pipes up a little quaveringly. She sits straighter in her perch, peering intently across the room in case someone in here starts, I don't know, spontaneously headbutting each other or something.
Arbiter kicks his chair back off the floor a little higher, leaning farther back before the feet of the chair thumping back to the ground. He may appear out of place, even. Or just uncomfortable. "I dunno. I'm not tense. Are you tense? I'm not."
Penchant quickly straightens when he catches Skystalker's look. "I'd /like/ for there to be a unified 'tribe', but the faction mechs cling to their badges, their ideals, and it's their right." He turns his green gaze on Gearshift. "There's been talk of neutrals turning a blind optic as our supposed brethren formulate plans to attack more of Command," he says bluntly.
Gearshift makes a sour face. "That's awful." It's also the reason she left Cybertron and left the war.
Skystalker gives a smile to Gearstrip from afar, and it seems to stick long enough for Arbiter as well. "I want to think that we have less tension, but unlike the others we do not have impassioned ideals to bind us." He tips his head to Penchant to make a small example of his words. "Case in point. So we must communicate."
Gearstrip folds her arms and slouches back a little into her seat. "Oh," she says. Her mouth screws up into a little grimace as she lets a sigh cycle through her systems, venting quietly. "That's not being neutrals, that's being criminals."
"Because you have not experienced it does not mean it doesn't exist. Your experiences do not invalidate others," Windblade corrects of Arbiter gently but firmly, a brow curved upwards briefly. If she had a tumblr--, it would be a longer rant. Her gaze slides to Gearstrip, briefly, and she inclines her chin but then makes a more pointed look. Which will clearly get communication through silently, or something. But she continues on, "But how can we help, is the question? Those seeking this must have a reason for it, and we want to address those concerns. And even if they can't be corrected, we need a way to ensure that us as a tribe, us badgeless. Camiens and Eukarians and Cybertronians-- That we are all in this together."
Gearshift thinks about Cliffjumper. "We have autobots rooming with decepticons and speaking quite unkindly. The war hasn't left a lot of them from either side."
Arbiter's gaze sets a little harsh. Perhaps he took the correction negatively. Perhaps it doesn't matter. "Slow your roll there, my friend. Let's make sure that everyone who is a NAIL wants to be in a 'tribe'?"
Tourniquet stares some more. Oh no, she should have brought something to take notes with. PANIC. She hisses quietly, trying to retain as much as possible from all these words. This is worst than words. Where's the pictures. But she did get one thing. Command is the same as being a Chieftain, yes. Attacking Chieftain, bad. "On Eukaris, we'd banish them from the tribe for something like that." Or eat them. Depends on the size of the offender and the offense, really.
Her hood perks up. Tribe? This is another tribe??? She slides forward, closer to the group. "I think the other tribe lies to me. Which is mean." And that's really the biggest complaint. The next would be 'why all standards with wheels look the same' but that doesn't seem to fit the conversation right now.
Gearshift looks over to tourniquet "There are technically two other tribes, which one was it? What did they lie about?" She asks out of genuine curiosity.
Penchant leans forward against the table, searching the crowd. He's not terribly concerned with those speaking up - he's searching the faces of the quiet and disgruntled. "We still usin' NAIL?" he asks flatly, peering over at Arbiter.
Loosely twining her fingers over the knee of her dangling leg, Gearstrip presses her thumbs together and says, "I don't think it can come as a surprise that millions of years of war leaves Cybertronians with a lot of traumatic scarring. It's shaped who they are. Is that so different for those who didn't claim badges?"
"The things that make us, bind us, Arbiter. It isn't that we're asking to form a third group. It's only that it's become clear that we need to find a way to communicate effectively with those that are factioned. By refraining from a badge you are already one of us." Skystalker's words to the mercenary are on a much kinder scale than Penchant's grinding about 'NAIL'. As Gearstrip pipes up, he lifts a hand to gently gesture to her, her words apparently also meaningful to him.
"I move to ban that term from our meeting. There's no need for that," Windblade says, lifting her voice to say it. Her gaze slides briefly, apologetically, to Tourniquet, but then she is addressing the rest to say, "It's too late for us not to be a 'tribe'. We are divided just as firmly as the Autobots and Decepticons have divided themselves. We can embrace this, or we can not. That is the real question. And if the answer that everyone wants is to not, then-- Well, I am not sure what I can do to help. I will continue to represent my Camiens, at least."
Arbiter peers at Penchant, and raises a hand in a gesture to say, '...wha?' "Yes?" He lets his hand clap down onto his leg with a metallic smack. He turns back to Windblade.
Gearshift looks around the table "I understand completely" She says to Gearstrip. "However there's got to be a way to facilitate between roomates so there isn't tension in a space that's supposed to be relaxing"
Arbiter peers at Penchant, and raises a hand in a gesture to say, '...wha?' "Yes?" He lets his hand clap down onto his leg with a metallic smack. He turns back to Skystalker. "A NAIL, yes, I am one. But if there's any fighting to be had, Primus, I'm getting paid for it, so if there's some faction leader to be labeled for NAILs they'd better be paying; or it's back to slag with the 'Cons or the 'Bots. So we're clear."
"Well, if we figure it out let me know," Gearstrip says, making a face. "I mean, if we're complaining about roommates. I'm pretty sure--. Well, never mind." She laces her fingers together more tightly.
Next to her Penchant likely can hear the tiny hitch of Windblade's intake, a quiet flustering as she loses control so easily of the meeting, perhaps. To Gearstrip, she finally offers, "This meeting is to discuss any of our issues. Nothing should be dismissed." She tips a nod towards Gearshift in turn, acknowledging, before her gaze slides to Arbiter. It lingers there a moment, two, before she slides a look back to the two bots at the table with her. "Should we call for a vote for-- whether to acknowledge that we are all one? Or if we'd rather go our seperate ways and navigate the ship on our own? If that is the case, we can disband now."
Tourniquet looks at Gearshift. Don't confuse her with more than one, great Chela. Thankfully new things steal her attention. "Who lied to- uh, well... The Dinobot- Grimlock! He lied. And First Aid..." Technically... But she can forgive him, seeing how much he helped her with the I-250 track. Her body trails as she serpentines to the table, looming over Penchant. In a low voice, "He keeps saying the word... Why's it bad..." Her tongue flicks out and she pipes up quickly, louder. "I'd like to stay! As a tribe." Tribes are good. Important.
"We're not here to recruit for a battle, Arbiter." Skystalker's tone has a little bit of warning in it, as the big rusty mech is getting a little off course. "This meeting is so that people on this ship-- the place you live-- can have a voice in matters of command and law, as Windblade has said. This isn't war, Arb. This is just... your home." Skystalker only makes this one last effort to clear things up, before looking to Windblade, nodding just once, quiet.
Penchant leans back in his chair with a weary expression. He offers Windblade a sympathetic smile, and shifts upright again. "If I can address the reluctance to band up. Our last meeting involved a certain mech trying to pitch /badges/. I'll openly say that's ridiculous." Skystalker earns a quick nod. "We're not recruiting for a faction. Though I'd venture to say there's already some type of union amongst us, enough of one that we'll ignore brewing malice because it will result in harm against the badge wearers. I'm hoping that having a voice in Command can help with this situation."
Gearshift explains to Tourniquet "NAIL is a term that's used as a bad way to describe neutrals by many. It used to just be a term that meant "Non Aligned Indienous Life form, if I recall correctly" She rubs the back of her helm.
"Does command ignore you?" Arbiter folds his arms, looking genuinely puzzled. "The cap'n seems like a downright approachable bot, to be honest."
"No. Command does not ignore me, but I am the leader of the Caminus delegation and a Cityspeaker, the only one aboard this ship who can speak to the titans," Windblade answers, her voice gaining more steel as she speaks to Arbiter, gathering herself to her feet with her hands splayed against the table. "And how many here can claim that? How many here have someone to speak for them if they need it? I know my Camiens do, but every bot matters. And no bot should feel like they are less than."
"Some of us are fortunate to have an ear or two with command for other reasons, as well, but not every one of us has such a privilege." Skystalker draws his hands from his knee and sets them folded onto the table, amber optics lifting to draw over those gathered in the seats. "Not every one of us is heard in the ways we need to be heard."
Gearshift watches and patiently listens, studying the others that were gathered. "To that point: Windblade, will you be representing the Neutrals as a whole? Or will someone else take that role?"
"One way or another, if I could urge each of you to merely keep an eye out. If you hear something, report it. That's not to say you can't gripe and grumble about warmechs, naturally. Just keep your audials to the floor. We can't afford another Rupture situation," Penchant ends with a sigh.
Gearshift nodded "I can do that. Do we just send you a ping if we need to talk?"
"I'd rather help them, really," Gearstrip says with a slightly worried look on her freckled face. "But I dunno how."
Arbiter leans back in his chair once more, arms lose at his sides. "Sure, sure. I can do that."
Windblade hesitates; her gaze shifts to Penchant and then to Skystalker beside her, looking for their opinion, before her gaze falls back to Gearshift and then the crowd as a whole. She answers firmly enough, though, "If we decide that we would like to consider ourselves one, and if we decide that we need a voice, then I would be honored to be that voice, and I would promise to speak for you with the same dedication and subservience that I speak for titans."
"The complaint I hear rather consistently, Gearstrip, is the notion that the Lost Light belonged to the neutrals, before the Autobots 'stole' it. I'm not rightly sure what to do about /that/. But." Penchant looks to Windblade, small smile returning. "If anyone opposes Windblade offering her voice for us, make your case here and now."
Skystalker's eyes keep on the others gathered at Penchant's continuing words, and without looking over he sets his hand briefly on the minibot's pauldron at momentary mention of Rupture, He's right. They can't afford another one. At Windblade's look he does seem uncertain-- she has so much on her plate already-- but he does not provide an immediate alternative, let alone himself. Windblade is one of the few here so experienced in matters of state.
"I've fought for both sides. I won't be thinking of myself as a true 'nuetral' like you bots. It doesn't much matter to me who speaks for the neutrals." Arbiter kicks back in his chair once more, returning to his relaxed pose from earlier.
A hint of what might be a laugh catches on the words Windblade exhales, telling Arbiter dryly, "I'll count that as a vote for, then." And slowly, the Cityspeaker takes her seat again, her gaze sliding briefly over the rest of the gathered neutrals before falling back again. "My door will always be open, as will Penchant's and Skystalker's. We aren't only looking for you to-- tattle. If you have any concerns, any questions. This is what we want to move forward to address. If we can all work together, to be kinder to each other, care more, spend each moment as a family-- We can make this ship a better place."