robothell | [ INTRO LOG ]

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[ INTRO LOG ]

You don't know how you got here. One minute you were walking, sleeping, maybe dead -- then you're here, your feet suddenly carrying you down an empty street. Where's here?

Any Cybertronian would recognize this as their home planet, Cybertron, but it's not a Cybertron they've ever known. It has all the familiar hallmarks, but none of the specifics -- the city isn't one anyone here could identify, and even at a glance it's obvious that no one's set foot on the planet's surface in hundreds of years. The city and its surrounding areas all bear the marks of devastating war, of dust and rust collected over centuries. With no one in sight -- right at first, anyway -- there's plenty to explore. In fact, if you start walking, you'll find that your feet may just carry you in one particular direction.

A) The crater.
On one edge of the city is a massive crater left by some wartime weapon that seems to have taken out a large chunk of the surrounding metropolitan area. At the center of the crater it's broken through the surface of the terrain to reveal what looks like it might be a promising energon deposit. There is some strange but native vegetation growing around the edges, too, that no Cybertronian would be able to identify -- small, metallic, brittle-looking sprouts that bear a curiously organic-looking fruit of some kind that doesn't look like it's intended for consumption by any natives of the planet. In one rocky nook of the crater, light catches on the surface of a pool of water, which seems strangely out of place on Cybertron. On closer inspection, it seems that somehow an underground water source has formed a spring in the crater.

B) The center of the city.
If you follow where your feet seem to want to carry you, you'll find yourself in the middle of the ruined city. It seems that the center of the city was once home to a massive forum, and some of the pillars and structures still stand. At the very center of the forum is a massive, elaborately constructed fountain, although it has now long since run dry of whatever used to fill it. One of the low, inner walls of the forum has a terminal embedded in its surface, although it looks curiously ancient, out of place with the rest of the city, and unlike the rest of the technology still left around, there doesn't seem to be any way to power it on or operate it. There are a few scattered pools of water and a few of the strange metallic plants in the city, too, but they're not quite as plentiful as in the crater.

The planet was obviously once home to a massive network of communication relays, but those have all been long since destroyed. However, with the bits and pieces left behind and a few determined minds, it wouldn't be too hard to build a working, if rudimentary, one...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Dad joke detected. This giant robot was obviously safe. No one evil could have a sense of humor that lame.

"I guarantee you I'm way more lost than you are." Valeria, all three feet of her, rose from the spot where she hadn't been hiding, merely sitting and being small and hard to see from 30 feet up.

Humans. There goes the neighborhood.

The voice he hears is definitely one he's not heard before, and for a moment, he looks around, audials slightly twitching to try and figure out just where the source came from. If they weren't mistaken (and they rarely were), they were coming from...lower to the ground.

His gaze shifts, eventually settling on Valeria. And...

Well, okay, the questions are immediately popping up in his head one by one.

"A human."

Yes, thank you Optimus for stating the obvious. But he sounds astonished at it, especially since this one is lacking any protective gear and seems to be doing just fine in what could be a dangerous atmosphere.

How was she supposed to know she should be dead on your dumb machine planet?

"Oh, you're familiar with Earth? That simplifies matters. Can you call them so I can get a ride home? I can give you the right comms protocols." There, that should settle that, Uncle Doom could teleport out to get her, and she'd be home in time for ice cream.

Things the small human was not: frightened, upset, confused. Just somewhat put-upon by the vagaries of her life.

Well you tell him, YOU'RE the one with the username that reads 'genius'.

"I'm afraid I cannot make contact with Earth at this point in time, no matter the protocol."

His head can reach maybe Cybertron's moon. Maybe. But he doesn't want to just leave the answer at that for the little girl. He owed her to at least try.

Thankfully, she was taking this rather well. Almost...too well.

"Are your parents here?"

That's right. Children have parental figures.

"No." Val waved off the question as irrelevant. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and there wasn't a technical problem her father could solve that she couldn't. No parents required. Uncle Doom would be nice to have around, but the big robot hadn't asked about him, and Val decided to be intentionally obtuse about the scope of the question, because she was a little brat.

"Look, this city is obviously abandoned, there aren't any satellites in line of sight, and my tablet won't pick up anything over the horizon without a relay." One hand resting on a cocked hip, she gestured with the datapad in question. "This place isn't scaled for me and I'm not sure you have anything I can eat. Can you at least take me somewhere less useless?"

Well, to be honest, kid. No kid ever admits that they need their parents and can take care of themselves. That's why they need parents. He raises a 'brow' skeptically at her, as she brushes off the question, although...that's not going to stop him from being the replacement parent for the moment.

But for as small as she was, she certainly had a head on her shoulders. A sassy one, but it's nothing he doesn't deal with on a regular basis. Getting her someplace safer and away from being stepped on is a good idea as well, and he thinks about that foliage he saw. If she was from earth, she'd recognize the shape of the plant, perhaps. And maybe they could find some water.

"A good idea, if I may say so. It'll be easier if I carry you, so I hope you don't mind resting on my shoulder."

Val wouldn't stick a fork in an electrical socket, but she would make a deal with a supervillain behind her parents' backs and then give him the most powerful artifact in the universe as an apology present for manipulating him into risking his life, so yes, she did need parents. Like six of them, minimum.

"No problem." She looked expectantly up at him, waiting for him to offer a hand to climb onto.

Val will be the bossiest parrot Optimus do you have any idea what you're getting into here.

Well, Optimus is about the size of twenty parents, if they all made a giant human pyramid. That counts, right? His hand stretches out, laying flat on the ground for her to jump onto whenever she's ready.

Thankfully, he's dealt with humans before, so there's no hesitance.

And no, Optimus is very prone to making bad life choices. He'll soon find out, though. Have fun with that, buddy.

Val showed no hesitation either, clambering onto his open hand like she did this kind of thing every day...which she more or less did. Her entire family consisted of superheroes, so she'd been up to her little neck in shenanigans before she'd even been born.

"What does your insignia denote?" she asked as she settled cross-legged in his palm for the ride up to his shoulder.

He's thankful for it, really. The humans in his world were less than friendly, and having to explain that he's not out to kill her was a step he was glad to avoid. If she wouldn't question it, he wouldn't.

His hand lifts, moving it up to the shoulder area so she can jump on, hoping the distance isn't too great for her. It'd be strange having a human so close to him, but...

She seemed to be alright with this. Every being deserves a chance and not everyone is Spike.

"I am an Autobot. We fight for the freedom of all sentient beings of the galaxy, and for ourselves."

"Do all of you turn into trucks?" Val asked as she scrambled from his hand to his shoulder, "or is it more individualized?"

She settled in where she could work a hand under his plating to hold on if she had to, but those were some broad shoulders Optimus had, and she was very small, so as long as he didn't forget she was there, it should be all right.

"Mmm. It depends on our frame type. I'm not exactly built to be a jet."

Not that he minded really. He found other ways of achieving flight. Like jumping.

He makes sure the ride isn't too bumpy, his ear pieces swiveling as he gathers his surroundings. He's still not exactly sure how Val is surviving on Cybertron, but he supposes it's best not to ask. Clearly whatever was stopping her from asphyxiating was a positive note.

"I'd ask who built you, but the soil composition and the techno-organic plant life suggest you evolved."

Val was far, far more intelligent than even most adults of her species, but she was still three years old, which mean incessant questions. At least they were perceptive ones.

"...What's your name, anyway?"

Well, most of them were.

"You'd be correct. We have no creator, but evolved, as you said."

He's surprised this is coming from a child because it took awhile to explain that to some adults. Maybe if you teach them early they all turn out like this.

"My name is Optimus Prime. I'm Commander and Leader of the Autobot faction."

...

"It's nice to meet you."

Courtesy can go a long way.

Humans in Optimus' universe, adults or not, lacked the constant exposure to comic book insanity that was Val's entire life. As far as she was concerned, this was only slightly weirder than normal. Combined with the preternatural intelligence, it made her blase about things like suddenly being on a largely deserted planet whose native population consisted of giant shape-shifting robots.

"Valeria Richards, and likewise." She patted his shoulder in lieu of a handshake. "Is 'Prime' a title?"

'Slightly', more like 'slight understatement'. But he wasn't one to judge. Size didn't really matter, did it? As long as you were competent.

You can't see it, but there's a slight smile under that stoney-faceplate.

"It is. It is...hm. It's hard to translate into a position on Earth. We are a Commander and yet a figurehead combined."

"Combining head of government and head of state functions isn't that unheard of. My home polity does it, among others." Political theory could be counted among Val's interests only insofar as she was interested in subverting governments for her own less-than-nefarious but still not aboveboard ends. She'd figure out he was functionally a military governor soon enough anyway.

"What other factions are there?"

Endless.

Questions.

Okay seriously what kind of schools do they have on Earth because all the ones he saw were like full of scummy kids who can barely write cursive and here you are talking about government IT'S A LOT TO TAKE IN OKAY.

"Decepticons, and the Non-aligned."

Don't tell him you're going to be one of THOSE children, Val.

She's three, it's what they do at that age. Also, build death rays and cut backroom deals with supervillains. Wait no, that's just Val.

"And how do they feel vis-a-vis 'the freedom of all sentient beings?'"

'Decepticon' didn't sound all that aboveboard, really.

Humans have such accelerated lives...just don't let Brainstorm find you, kid. You're the last thing he needs to discover exists.

"Mmm."

Now that was hard.

"They had the same vision, once. But they've been led astray by their own hatred and quest for power."

Don't worry, Optimus, Val has "become immortal" blocked off in her schedule for her early 20s. Also, she'll probably find Brainstorm all by herself.

Anyway, Optimus' musing on the fall of the Decepticon ideal was not really the information she'd been looking for. "Uh, I'm sure it's tragic and all, but I was hoping for something a little more practical in the 'avoiding getting stepped on' department."

Jeez kid, at least save some time to go to Six Flags or make a gingerbread house. Maybe go to an arcade.

"...Uh."

Okay, so she was more of a practical one.

"They don't seem to appreciate human companionship as well as Autobots."

See: You may or may not get stepped on.

"Right." There were always complications, sigh. "Okay, bumping 'force field generator' up the priority list. What does their insignia look like, assuming they use one?"

Good to know who to avoid until she got her force fields and repulsors up and running.

It was hard to describe the insignia, for sure. So he takes a moment to make sure she's secured as he lowers himself down, onto one knee. A quick drawing in the ground below ought to do the trick.

Optimus isn't the best artist, for sure, but he's seen the insignia enough to get a well enough picture of it down in the dirt.

"That. Should you see anyone with this symbol, it is best to avoid them."

"Got it, thanks." Val barely glanced at Optimus' drawing, but that was all it took to commit the Decepticon badge to her near-computer memory. "I assume the civilians don't display colors and will be unpredictable?"

'Civilians' was a guess, but you didn't go around prominently displaying insignia and calling yourselves factions if it was just a crosstown rivalry with another high school.

b. how does she understand him idk motherfucking miracles

The language of dad joke is universal ok

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