guitar villain [OPEN]
WHO: Soundwave & OPEN
WHERE: A very snazzy arcade.
WHEN: Friday afternoon.
WARNINGS: I don't believe so.
SUMMARY: As to attempt to fit in better amongst the humans due to his new organic body, Soundwave visits somewhere he hears is very popular. It is not quite as expected.
FORMAT: Paragraph preferred! tl;dr is not necessary for fun and hijinks.
The noise, on normal levels, would have been tolerable. The murmur of the crowd, babies crying, people bumping into one another, children screaming for attention, horns honking outside, the beeps of technology--
Most of the time, one would simply tune it out.
For Soundwave, it has taken him much effort to learn how he could even do so. At first, the noise was almost too much, and had given him a... ah. Migraine, as the flesh creatures would say. Instinct wants him to say a processor ache, but he doesn't technically even have a processor anymore. Regardless, the sounds were almost unbearable at first; it honestly made him feel like his head might abruptly explode, his ears thundering until he learned to tune it out. It was a strange experience until he taught himself to manipulate the sound into his favor, somewhat.
His temples are still throbbing, and his headphones are over his ears. The communications officer is seated, temporarily, at one of the booths, dressed in a dark blue jacket with the collar zipped up to cover his mouth -- a bit easier to mask his emotions that way -- and red shades on. His unfortunately very blue hair is combed back neatly, almost obsessively, to keep himself trim, clean, and in top condition.
How needless, in such an environment. These fleshbags. And their machines. What terrible, bothersome, needless sounds. Humans are so... pesky.
Still. He is at this arcade for a mission. He supposes it is necessary. He must learn to... fit in with these humans until they find a way to return to their former bodies. Although Soundwave is greatly dubious of Starscream's abilities to lead, at the moment there's little choice in the matter, as far as rank between them goes. Inferior as Starscream is, if a Megatron has named him leader, then Soundwave truly has no choice but to obey that rank's orders. Until a better opportunity arises, anyway, as he and Shockwave agreed to.
Slowly, the Decepticon rises to his feet and steps through the bustling arcade. Most of it looks terribly uninteresting to him. Why humans would waste their time with these pieces of archaic technology is beyond him. But, then, of course... the humans never made much sense to him.
He'd been ready to leave until he spots movement out of the corner of his eye. Coordination of movement with... music?
If there'd ever been one thing from the meatbags that he ever comprehended, it was music.
Soundwave turns and approaches slowly. A pair of the Earth creatures were moving their feet over metal pads with arrows pointing in four directions, all in appropriate beats with music and indicators on a screen. The point seems easy enough; dance to what you hear and see. Although the goal is simplistic and Soundwave wants to scoff at such needlessness, he can't help but be somewhat entranced by this particular game.
He glances over the sides of the machines. This is called... Dance Dance Revolution.
It's almost fascinating, really...
WHERE: A very snazzy arcade.
WHEN: Friday afternoon.
WARNINGS: I don't believe so.
SUMMARY: As to attempt to fit in better amongst the humans due to his new organic body, Soundwave visits somewhere he hears is very popular. It is not quite as expected.
FORMAT: Paragraph preferred! tl;dr is not necessary for fun and hijinks.
The noise, on normal levels, would have been tolerable. The murmur of the crowd, babies crying, people bumping into one another, children screaming for attention, horns honking outside, the beeps of technology--
Most of the time, one would simply tune it out.
For Soundwave, it has taken him much effort to learn how he could even do so. At first, the noise was almost too much, and had given him a... ah. Migraine, as the flesh creatures would say. Instinct wants him to say a processor ache, but he doesn't technically even have a processor anymore. Regardless, the sounds were almost unbearable at first; it honestly made him feel like his head might abruptly explode, his ears thundering until he learned to tune it out. It was a strange experience until he taught himself to manipulate the sound into his favor, somewhat.
His temples are still throbbing, and his headphones are over his ears. The communications officer is seated, temporarily, at one of the booths, dressed in a dark blue jacket with the collar zipped up to cover his mouth -- a bit easier to mask his emotions that way -- and red shades on. His unfortunately very blue hair is combed back neatly, almost obsessively, to keep himself trim, clean, and in top condition.
How needless, in such an environment. These fleshbags. And their machines. What terrible, bothersome, needless sounds. Humans are so... pesky.
Still. He is at this arcade for a mission. He supposes it is necessary. He must learn to... fit in with these humans until they find a way to return to their former bodies. Although Soundwave is greatly dubious of Starscream's abilities to lead, at the moment there's little choice in the matter, as far as rank between them goes. Inferior as Starscream is, if a Megatron has named him leader, then Soundwave truly has no choice but to obey that rank's orders. Until a better opportunity arises, anyway, as he and Shockwave agreed to.
Slowly, the Decepticon rises to his feet and steps through the bustling arcade. Most of it looks terribly uninteresting to him. Why humans would waste their time with these pieces of archaic technology is beyond him. But, then, of course... the humans never made much sense to him.
He'd been ready to leave until he spots movement out of the corner of his eye. Coordination of movement with... music?
If there'd ever been one thing from the meatbags that he ever comprehended, it was music.
Soundwave turns and approaches slowly. A pair of the Earth creatures were moving their feet over metal pads with arrows pointing in four directions, all in appropriate beats with music and indicators on a screen. The point seems easy enough; dance to what you hear and see. Although the goal is simplistic and Soundwave wants to scoff at such needlessness, he can't help but be somewhat entranced by this particular game.
He glances over the sides of the machines. This is called... Dance Dance Revolution.
It's almost fascinating, really...