audio: un: goodvibes

[aurable]

Hello! My name is Drift, and unfortunately, I'm more used to writing speeches than giving them. [ An agonizingly chipper voice comes through that might make you think of a substitute teacher trying too hard. ] Ordinarily, I avoid starting with negativity, especially in greeting, but this felt urgent. I apologize in advance if this is detrimental to anyone attempting to regain a more positive outlook after having gone through the ordeal that was our arrival.

It has come to my attention that the mess hall in the southeastern wing accommodates the specific needs of newcomers. Otherwise, fantastic news, but I'm compelled to warn everyone here now: If you come across any containers with a somewhat viscous or luminous quality that could be anything from purple, pink, orange, or green?

Do. Not. Drink. It.

Actually, you would be doing me a favor if you avoided touching it at all and contacted me immediately. In all likelihood, that's a container of Energon or a similar substance, and it is remarkably toxic to humans. I say 'remarkably' because the poor medical staff would only be able to remark on how quickly your internal organs coagulated into sludge after the first gulp.

It's perfectly safe if it's unopened, but to err on the side of caution, I'd ask it be removed by either myself or someone with experience in hazardous materials if you come across it.

[ Drift clears his 'throat' which sounds more like machinery venting overlaid with the sound of cough. ]

On a lighter note, I'd like to explore the possibility of scheduled team-building exercises. Making full use of the station's training and simulation rooms for more regimented practice and possible meditation for those who need it couldn't hurt.

Comments

[aurable]

The war has been over for some time now. None of us walked away from it unscathed, but that doesn't mean happier endings weren't out of reach. I wouldn't doubt it if whatever re-telling they were showing children was more than a little sanitized, but it could have been worse. A lot worse.

[ Drift looks out to some middle distance for a moment, unresponsive to whatever Peter was telling him about Earth gasoline or whatever. Worrying his lower lip thinking of the last words Megatron had said aboard the Lost Light: Four million years. All that time. All that life. Wasted. Only to hear what Peter said next, and snapped out of his naval-gazing with near enough force that could have broken one of his neck cables. Staring slack-jawed at Peter before he could hotwire two brain chips together to form a response. ]

I see. [ Not the best response, but he knew enough human parlance to know 'girlfriend' didn't just mean a friend who happened to be a girl. Drift's posture visibly deflates, and before he could think to ask what was meant by 'gone for five years' added: ]

You have my sympathies and my understanding. Shortly before coming here, I lost someone, too.

[spacedisaster]

There are no winners in war, no. But it's good to know that it wasn't all horrible afterward, at least in some universe.

[ Peter immediately regrets sharing after he sees Drift expression, knowing that it's a lot and all of a sudden. They all have big regrets that brought him to this station, and some really are more overwhelming than others. ]

Thank you. And my apologies, I shouldn't have bothered you with my problems. It's only that if that asshole somehow manages to appear here, I want people to be prepared.

I'm sorry to hear we share that sort of pain, it's really not easy. Talking helps a bit, but it can be really fucking hard too.