The salt water might not be good for your... [what do Cybertronians even have] ...mechanisms, darling.
[She'd totally take them anyway, though.]
Hmm.
[Emma has many memories of the ocean, not all of them pleasant or even neutral, but she reaches back to the more distant past, those childhood summers on the French Riviera, the warm turquoise Mediterranean so different from the stormy Pacific.
Emma is swimming upwards, towards the light that pierces the water in hazy beams and reflects from the barrier between sea and sky in brilliant flashes like diamonds scattered across the waves. It's not silent down there, but the noises are muffled and strange, carried differently by the water than the air. Her eyes sting a little from the salt and her lungs are starting to burn with the need to breathe, not enough to panic her, just to make breaking through to the welcoming air into a sharper pleasure than the mere enjoyment of being cradled in the warm water. A spray of droplets and a gasp announce her return to the breathing world, waves slapping against the hull of the yacht and gulls crying as they wheel overhead through a cloudless sky.
She's not sure why she's sharing so much, except that Soundwave seems to need it, and she has it to give. Her own life might have been a better one if someone had taken a moment to be kind to the frightened girl who couldn't shut the voices out of her mind.]
no subject
The salt water might not be good for your... [what do Cybertronians even have] ...mechanisms, darling.
[She'd totally take them anyway, though.]
Hmm.
[Emma has many memories of the ocean, not all of them pleasant or even neutral, but she reaches back to the more distant past, those childhood summers on the French Riviera, the warm turquoise Mediterranean so different from the stormy Pacific.
Emma is swimming upwards, towards the light that pierces the water in hazy beams and reflects from the barrier between sea and sky in brilliant flashes like diamonds scattered across the waves. It's not silent down there, but the noises are muffled and strange, carried differently by the water than the air. Her eyes sting a little from the salt and her lungs are starting to burn with the need to breathe, not enough to panic her, just to make breaking through to the welcoming air into a sharper pleasure than the mere enjoyment of being cradled in the warm water. A spray of droplets and a gasp announce her return to the breathing world, waves slapping against the hull of the yacht and gulls crying as they wheel overhead through a cloudless sky.
She's not sure why she's sharing so much, except that Soundwave seems to need it, and she has it to give. Her own life might have been a better one if someone had taken a moment to be kind to the frightened girl who couldn't shut the voices out of her mind.]