From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Location||Lost Light - Recreation -- Library|
|Participants||Disaster, Fortress Maximus|
|Summary||Overly Social meets Anti-Social, and talk about aliens.|
The library is quiet. Quiet is good. Except when it's not, and Fortress Maximus is left alone with his thoughts and memories and...
No. Stop. The library is good because it's quiet AND full of things to occupy oneself. In his case, Max is reading up on history. Not the recent history he missed, but the ancient history and lore of Cybertron. That wasn't really part of the MTO training, even for him, and while he knows enough from osmosis, he'd like a more thorough education. Plus it's different from anything he's familiar with, and that's probably a good thing.
The massive helmeted soldier has a habit of making himself scarce. Even now, he's sitting far in the back of the lower level, gradually scrolling through the datapad.
Yes, the last time Disaster came to the library things went south. Bad incidents, however, are not going to keep him from going in and looking around at what to read. And by reading -while he has learned to read- it's really just finding whatever has pictures in it. Pictures are much more fun to look at.
He trots around the lower level, pulling out whatever seems interesting, and holding them in his arms. He doesn't have many on the account that his arms are tiny, so he sets them down in a nearby chair next to a big tank. "Psssst," he whispers, remembering his library voice this time, "can you please watch my pads for a moment? I wanna get another but can't carry them all." The single-opticed mech glances over the other before grinning widely with excitement, "You could probably carry an entire bookshelf of them!" Wait, library voice, right.
Max must have been immersed in whatever he was reading, since the sound of Disaster's voice snaps him right out of it. He abruptly looks up, around, then down, then...further down.
His first inclination is to brush Disaster off completely, but the minibot's not doing anything wrong. And he's sure if he acts rude in the library he'll be asked to leave. "I, um. I suppose? Aren't you supposed to read them one at a time?"
Fortress Maximus probably could carry the bookshelf itself, though he isn't sure why he would. "Are you doing a research project?"
"Nah, no projects, I just like looking at the pictures in them." The minibot takes one of the datapads, turns it on to pull up an image of a bipedal alien with horns and thick fur to keep it warm. "See this is called a Tauntaun, but I just like looking at it because it's got horns like me." He points to his little horn, as his other one is missing. "Lots of cool stuff out in the universe. Right?"
With that shown, Disaster sets aside the pad to try and peek at the larger mech's datapad. "Whatcha reading there? Does it have pictures too?"
Sweet Primus, this mech is so ENTHUSIASTIC. Max isn't really sure how to handle that.
Pictures? "No pictures, aside from a few diagrams. It's a history of the founding of Iacon at..."
In all honestly he was just going to give Disaster's datapad a passing glance, but as his red optics fall on the image of the tauntaun he trails off and crouches down to get a better look at it. The horned giant seems, for a moment, entranced. "It's so /wooly./"
Ah history, he should read up on some of that himself, but get a load of these alien animals! Disaster smiles gleefully, scrolling to a picture of a herd of them. "They live on a super duper freeze-y planet called Hoth. There isn't much life on there, just fur-furs like these guys in this pic." He stands on his toes trying to hold up the image so the bigger mech can see it better. "There are all sorts of cool alien animals out there!"
Max gives up and decides to just get down on one knee to better see the picture-erm, he means talk to the minibot! He just feels awkward craning his neck. Not that it helps much; Max's legs are really huge.
"There are more organics like this?" What is he saying? He spent a brief time on Earth, though now that he thinks about it he was a bit too focused to pay attention to much of the life there. Save the humans, who aren't especially cute. INTERESTING. Max is INTERESTED because the Tauntaun is INTERESTING, that's all. He seems to catch himself and bristles, finally focusing on Disaster himself. "I didn't...catch your name."
<FS3> Disaster rolls Prattle: Success. (3 3 6 1 2 4 4 7)
"Yeah, so many more! They're not strong like us but they're still really super cool!" Disaster takes a couple more datapads from his pile and without asking, climbs up to sit on the massive tank's knee. Personal space? What's that? "My name's Disaster of Colossal, but I promise Im not gonna make any messes. Well, not any big ones anyways. I try to be a good mech, yanno? What's your name? Are you kinda shy, is that why you're back here? It's okay if you are yanno, because datapads are fun to read and look at. I mean, just look at even giant-er furrier thing called a Wampa!"
<FS3> Fortress_Maximus rolls Socializing: Success. (7 1 1)
Max visibly locks up when Disaster climbs right onto his knee, but at least he doesn't shove him right off, shout or panic. He reminds himself that by all accounts Disaster means well, and he's being nice, and in therapy last week they told him to try to learn how to open up to people. Besides, Disaster is someone who doesn't know Max yet, which means he doesn't know about /that./ And he just never will! That's all.
He vents. "Fortress Maximus of Simanzi. I'm a little-I'm antisocial." He is shy, but nobody would respect a shy war hero. "Just don't care for crowds much. Do you often study xenobiology here? I mean, look at pictures?"
He glances at the Wampa, which is definitely big and furry. It also has long claws, and a violent reputation according to the caption, and... "I think I like the tauntaun better," he mutters.
"Xenobigword is probably something some sciencer would know about. I'm just a scout." Hand waves it off, he's not smart enough for anything that's not gun related. "You got two names? Cool! Fortess Maximus, an MTO just like me! That's awesome, and hey, it's no biggie when you don't want to be around others. You do you, so if I'm a bother, hey just let me know. I just like meeting others and talking to them." Disaster goes back to looking for a less murdery creature through his datapads. So he scrolls through another datapad to show an image of another wooly horned creature but this one was in a dessert and less violent. "it's a Bantha!"
"You're an MTO?" This little, cheerful bot is a literal war machine like Max himself? But he's so...happy. How is he doing that? That 'happy' thing.
He studies the Bantha. It's so big he could...well, not ride it, but probably at least pick it up without worrying as much about injuring it. (Wait, why is he thinking about that?) "I never heard of the Battle of Colossal. Was that late in the war?" At Disaster's other statement, he just shakes his head. "You're not being a bother, really." He hates to admit this, but it's nice to talk to someone sometimes.
Disaster tilts his head, because well of course he's an MTO. Although, what does make one an MTO by sight and not name? Questions for later. "There was no Battle of Colossal." he replies with a giggle, "My name is the battle, A disaster. My batch never made it to a planet, we were ambushed and I was the only one to survive. Got found, patched up, and medics were like 'whelp, that was a disaster' and ta-da! I am named! The Colossal part is just me tacking it on because everyone else has something added on. Of Simanzi, Of Iacon, Of somewhere. My last ship was named Colossal so I decided I'm going to be Disaster of Colossal." Jazz hands.
This guy is an MTO and his whole batch got wiped out and he's happy and well-adjusted and looking at pictures HOW IS HE DOING THAT? Though it would explain the name, something Max would have expected tied to some terrifying warbuild.
But, Fortress Maximus reminds himself, Disaster being happy to talk about what happened to him means Max doesn't have to talk about his own background. "There's nothing wrong with naming yourself like that. None of us have 'home cities,' so we may as well identify ourselves as we choose."
Disaster could be a name that goes to some giant destroyer tank, or a hot shot gunslinger, but no. He's a little mech with nothing but smiles to give everyone (except that one seeker who he thought was bullying a friend). "That's why we have to make our own homes. Maybe not city-like homes, but homes where your friends are! That's kinda how I chose to think about it, but we're all different." Hmmm, back to animals. "We should get more datapads on alien creatures. Look at all the pictures and read up on them!"
"Where your friends are..." Is the Lost Light Max's home? It is now in the literal sense, or at least it feels more like home than he suspects anywhere on Cybertron would. Does he have friends here? Well, Disaster is certainly acting like a friend, even if Max gets the impression he might be that way with anyone. That's a start.
When did he get so bad at this?
"For the record, 'xenobiology' is the study of alien life. I can show you where some of the encyclopedias on that subject are, since they probably have a lot of photos. And I can carry a lot of datapads..."
Disaster hops off Fortress Maximus' leg, "Sure! I'd like to read more on alien life." But only if it has pictures. Short attention spans can't stick with paragraphs of words for so long. "You could probably carry like, a hundred datapads, maybe two hundred!" He claps his hands in delight at the idea, reaching for Fort Max's hand to tug him along. "We'll go learn about all the xenos!"
Fortress Maximus rises to his full height, finding himself following a very enthusiastic Disaster and even being tugged along. He goes with it, in part because he's a little worried if he DOESN'T he might accidentally knock Disaster over or something. "I do remember this Earth creature called a 'cow...'"