[The screen flickers on, and for a long moment, all that is really visible is the outside of Inprocessing, before the feeds swings back up and around to Perceptor's face. He is peering around himself with a look of quiet wonder and curiosity, heedless of the video feed. Finally, he seems to recall himself, glancing back down at the screen, and
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You...from one of them inverse universes?
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[He looks faintly perplexed, but intrigued.]
As in a reality wherein the inhabitants are mirror reflections of what you accept as the norm? Or are somehow otherwise skewed tangentially from the mean expectation?
[A metaphorical lightbulb illuminates his expression.]
That would imply that you have some familiarity with an incarnation of an entity resembling, well, me!
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As in like you but the opposite.
[Verity's gotcher metaphor right here, nerdzilla.]
Yeah. 'cept quieter. [A lot quieter.]
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Ah, yes. That is the "inverse universe" which you were referencing. Hmmm, curiously, if that would be true, then we would each originate in the inverse universe to the other's, as I feel that the reality of my origin is, by virtue of my origination there, the "base" universe, while you would view it as, potentially, an inverse. Where you would consider your reality to be the "base", and mine to be the inverse. Quite the philosophical debate!
By whose standards would be most accurately determine the inverse/obverse relationship of our various base realities? Our perceptions are, of a necessity, skewed by our origins.
[He grins cheerfully, and then rubs the back of his helmet with a touch of embarrassment.]
Ah. Eh heh. Yes, well, there are those who have requested a certain amount of, ah, brevity from me, before. [Like, most everyone, at some point in time or another.]
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Did... you go out and get tanked without telling anyone?
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I beg your pardon, Sunstreaker?
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[He has to take a moment to look at that feed a little better.]
Hey. When'd you get your other optic back?
[It has not occurred to him that he may be speaking to the wrong Perceptor.]
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Other optic?
[He reaches up to feel both of his, with a look of... almost comic bafflement.]
I do not recall having, ah, lost an optic to begin with.
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[Perhaps he should not be as pleased to see another familiar face, however, it's a purely visceral response to finding himself in an unfamiliar, if fascinating, circumstance.]
You will make an exception?
[Does that mean that Wreck-gar is unhappy to see him? Or unhappy to see another associate here? Or....]
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[Roughly translated, Wreck-Gar is happy to see Perceptor, but wishes more people hadn't ended up here.]
You have lost your timeslot and been relocated to this network too?
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Ah, yes. Understood. I am not certain, though. I last recall leaving Zamojin, and now find myself here.
[He shrugs apologetically.]
I wish that I had more information to offer you, but I do not remember anything else.
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Not all of us are as rude as our...hosts. [Or as some of the other Outworlders. That human might learn some manners? NonViolent Communication?]
[He smiles. ] Greetings. I'm Wing, and if you need anything, please ask.
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Greetings, Wing! I am Perceptor. Thank you for your kind offer. I very much appreciate it.
[He looks hopeful, and returns that smile happily.]
Could you perhaps, ah, explain what happened? Where is this place, and why? And how have I come to find myself here?
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I...figured, Perceptor. The others are familiar with a mech of your name from a different timestream.
[Wing shrugs.]
Nobody is entirely certain. Our presence here is apparently accidental. [A bit of a frown: their 'hosts' were hardly as benevolent as they presented themselves to be.]
Our hosts view themselves as superior, because they are without the wars that savage so many of our timestreams. [Which begs the question.] Your universe is at war...Autobot?
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I suspected as much, however, courtesy dictates that I do not assume such is true. Thank you for the information, however.
[He listens attentively, somehow not really concerned overmuch by the unpredictability of their presence in Axiom Nexus; he's from a universe with Quadrant Locks and Electric Lava. So far? This sounds like an average day at the metaphorical office to him.]
Hm. Truly? Fascinating.
[He sighs and looks disappointed.]
Despite the precarious nature of their survival after the destruction of Unicron and the routing of Galvatron, yes, the Decepticons do continue to prosecute occassional attacks, both upon Cybertron, and upon allies of the Autobots. The brief peace that blossomed after Unicron's destruction... did not last.
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He firmly believed that what he'd done to himself had been necessary. Adaptation was in their very CNA. Now, he was prepared for war, for combat.
He was no longer a liability.
But when he was, very literally, faced with everything he used to be...?]
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[... What else could he say?]
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[It is one thing to be told about another version of himself, but it is a wholly different thing to actually be confronted with said other incarnation.]
[And now, that question Sunstreaker had asked makes perfect sense.]
I.... I should? Why is that?
[It seems like there is more that he should ask, more that he should say, but he's too... fixated on studying what he can see of this Other to think of anything else yet.]
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