Well, I do not anticipate getting close enough to you to burn you! I've never attempted to expand myself, but if it's really easier, perhaps I should try sometime.
The coordinates should be fine.
[Now Megatron's wondering what to expect from Loki! He's unfiltered, but his propositions are generally unmistakeable for anything other than what they are, and that was not one of them! ^_~]
Switching to prose format, if that's all right with you!
Maybe that was a little Freudian. Loki can't deny his extreme curiosity. The shapeshifting, Ravage's ability to project images, and the general durability and versatility of these mechanical beings remind him of some of his own gifts, and yet they are vastly different.
On the other hand, he has some truly traumatic memories associated with hot metal too close to vulnerable skin, and the commentary was at least halfway born of anxiety. It's his way to make light of these things, so he types: Certainly not on a first date, then erases it before he sends the text, opting instead to simply send the set of coordinates.
This accomplished, he makes his way to the meeting-spot himself, riding the autumn wind.
When he arrives, Megatron will find it looks very little like a 'hall' of any sort, at least from the outside. What is there is an open field, a tumble of bare rocks twice the size of a human dwelling, and a dead tree carved with the symbol of a reddened eye. If he is at all sensitive to the kind of energy flux Loki would call magic, though, he may sense there is more here than is easily seen. A cavernous space under the rock, under the ground, which will open only when Loki commands it.
Loki himself, is waiting, seated cross-legged on one of the boulders, already in Jotun form. The ridged cobalt skin stands out against the black of his clothing and hair, and his eyes, like the symbol on the tree above him, are ruby red.
"Well met," he says, and gives a graceful, seated bow, studying his guest in return.
"Well met indeed." The silvery mech bows. His eyes, too, are ruby red--like those of most Decepticons.
Megatron is not particularly sensitive to spirituality of any kind, but he is very aware of the electromagnetic force fields that surround living beings, and he is also keenly aware of the interdimensional interstitium, so he might be aware that there is a space below.
He might also just be aware of that because he was originally made to be a deep tunneller--beings who can create illusions designed to fool human senses do not always figure in the capabilities of different life-forms.
To those who can appreciate the craftsmanship, Megatron is certainly beautiful, and his chest armour in particular is decorated with elaborate red inlaid filigree.
If this is an actual date he isn't aware of it, but he sits down on another boulder, moving with a feral sort of grace born of the arena and the depths of the Earth.
Loki's first impression is that he is devoutly glad he's in his larger form, and roughly equal to Megatron's current height. The armored look, the broad shoulders and the bearing of the mech reminds him of Thanos at first glance; so much so that his throat aches and he can feel his own adrenaline kick in. Thus, there's a moment before he speaks again, eyes sweeping across the stranger, taking in details, consciously looking for visual reminders of who he is not.
Fortunately, the body language is very much like Lucifer's, and while he gets into discussions with Lucifer where they never quite see eye-to-eye, he considers him an ally and friend. That's reassuring, and the echo of red eyes doesn't hurt either. Megatron may notice Loki take a couple breaths before truly recovering, but then he manages a smile.
"This is the part known as the Wilds," he explains. "The Plaza is off behind you, to what appears to be the West today. Things change on a regular basis; were you to return tomorrow, you might find the topography altered. But there is a kind of magic preventing overt violence in the Plaza. The further into the Wilds you get, the less reliable it becomes."
"I'm assuming neither of us are planning violence, though, so that's only relevant should you decide to wander."
What this is, rather than a date, is Loki being a busybody. He has family in the Nexus, and when an unknown quantity appears, he always wants to know what to expect. Ravage struck him as subtly but uncommonly kind, a probable friend in the making, but the sheer versatility and strength presented here makes him reluctant to take that for granted.
That, and a group that calls itself 'Decepticons' is bound to catch at his interest. He prides himself on deception, after all.
He stands and taps the stones behind him with his fingertips, activating the doorway to the hall below. "You are welcome here; please enter, if you so choose."
The space beyond looks well-lit, and quite large. More like a ballroom or throne room than a conference chamber.
Megatron is briefly alarmed by the infrared and ultraviolet readings coming from the stranger, whose species he does not know. It probably helps a little that he does make an effort to smile and appear a little less threatening. He's used to people being scared of him, although he wouldn't know who Thanos was.
"Interesting. The anti-violence field explains a lot about what Soundwave and Ravage are doing here. I approve of it. I was once an extremely violent person, but I would rather not ever hurt another living thing, if I could avoid it."
He steps into the formally appointed room. "It's beautiful," he says, and nods. "Thank you for your welcome."
Megatron is actually more comfortable now. He's used to having relative strangers address him with fear, lust, or some combination of both--but that behaviour isn't logical, and rarely leads to any sort of worthwhile, lasting tie. Admiration sometimes is, but where there is admiration, there are expectations, and hero-worship can turn into bitter hatred in an astrosecond.
That Loki is apparently trying to assess him somehow makes sense. It shows that Loki is no fool.
Ravage and Soundwave will need more friends like this. And Megatron could use a few more himself.
Scared might be the right word, though it's not fear of Megatron himself. Even gods get PTSD sometimes. Loki has had some time to fight it, though, and support from Thor and others close to him.
What Megatron says is also good to hear. "Likewise," he says. "Though violence itself was a means to an end for me. Control was what I wanted, and that was a very dark time for me. I am by nature tricky and mercurial, but not warlike."
The walls and floor of the meeting hall are mostly pale marble, with clearer seams running through it; it looks as though it's meant to evoke ice. There's a fireplace at one end large enough to roast a whole bull, though it's certainly never been put to that task. By the hearth is a dark wooden table and chairs to match, wide and heavy and magically reinforced to bear the weight of Loki's Jotun form. They're decorated with furs and evergreen and holly.
Loki leads the way to the hearth and selects one of the chairs for his own, sitting with one leg folded up, body listing to the left. "I would offer you refreshment," he says, "but I'm not familiar enough with your kind to know what would be appropriate. Which is one of the reasons I'm curious to talk with you. As far as I'm aware, there are no beings like yourself in the world I come from, and yet some of your abilities are analogous to mine."
He's calmer now, himself, comfortable in his own territory, with the crackle of fire as background noise.
"We primarily use a substance called energon as fuel, which can be enjoyed as a raw mineral, or purified--it liquefies once purified--and drunk, gelled into treats, or refined into an intoxicant. Also various types of mineral oils, metals, rocks, occasionally gems, but not pearls. Fossil fuel derivatives are less nourishing than energon, but can be used for survival as well." Megatron smiles. "Honestly, a cup of fresh diesel fuel would not go amiss. It's not something most of us favour, but as a tankformer, I have developed a taste for it."
He sits carefully in the chair, testing it to make sure he won't accidentally break it. "Violence is almost always a means to an end. Those of us who develop a taste for it normally haven't found pleasanter means of getting their needs met effective. When I was very young, I had rather a peaceful nature, but after I was forcibly convinced that violence was the only way to solve our society's problems, I got very good at it very quickly, and people enjoy things they master."
He smiles crookedly. "I am actually an intellectual by inclination. I write poetry. Essays. Philosophical treatises. I am fascinated by medicine and mathematics. These were not career paths that were open to me when I was young. Anyhow--what is it that I do, that you also do, but believe you do differently?"
Loki listens thoughtfully, committing all the information to memory. He expects to have occasion to entertain Ravage at some point, and potentially some of the others he has not met. Knowing what to serve is valuable information. He was, after all, raised as the younger Asgardian prince, and diplomacy and entertainment were among his duties. "In the Nexus, I imagine any of that can be obtained, though I've never seen such a thing as energon. I will keep it in mind."
In Jotun form, Loki is upwards of 700 pounds, but he's made certain to engineer the chairs to bear more than that. He has at least one close friend in the Nexus that weighs upwards of a ton. (He has yet to have the Indoraptor in for tea, but it could happen.)
"People enjoy the things they master," he echoes thoughtfully. "Isn't that the truth."
"I was forced into a corner," he says. "By a terrible enemy. Kill or be killed. But that is a complicated and unpleasant story."
"I fear I have no gift for composing poetry," he says with regret, "but I enjoy reading it, and listening to it. I was educated in history, the arts, music and dance, and most especially magic. I was in a privileged position in my society, though my talents by and large made me a square peg in a round hole, so to speak."
"You mentioned shapeshifting," he answers the question. "And I've seen Ravage project images in much the same way I would shape illusions. What one culture calls magic may be a learned skill or innate ability in another culture."
Megatron smiled. "Mastery is, in and of itself, a powerful pleasure. Once your body has learned what to do, the action just flows through you, and it feels sometimes as though you succeed without effort. But I was a gladiator. Sadly, kill or be killed are far too often the only choices some people are given." His expression softens. "I am sorry that happened to you. It's happened to most of my friends. I knew nothing of privilege when I was young and all the education I have had, I sought on my own, and mostly learned on the fly. This is true of most of my friends; both Ravage and I were created as slaves, though Soundwave came from a family of privilege."
He thinks for a moment. "You mentioned shapeshifting. All of my people can change their shapes, but this is because of the way we are put together. There are only certain shapes that we can assume. To acquire a new alternate mode, one must either have one's spark transferred into the body of someone who has moved into a different body, or chosen to die; or go through exquisitely painful surgical procedures while conscious--which I have done. I can become a tank. With the use of matter displacement technology, I can also become a gun. But I cannot become a truck, or a jet, or a tree, or a bird. The components that make up my body, when shifted into a different configuration, can take the form of a tank."
Megatron stands up and points out the tank gun on his back, and the treads concealed in his upper arms and lower legs. "I fold myself into the other shape," he explains. "My transformation is more technically complex than most because I do make use of interdimensional pockets and mass displacement. But in its simplest form, Cybertronian transformation depends upon having body parts shaped in such a way that they can be folded in and out, latched together and separated, to take on the form of another object. If you look very closely at any of us, you can see clues as to what other forms we might be able to assume. I should, however, caution you that for many of us, this is a sensitive subject. Under the rule of the Functionalists, your alternate mode dictated the choices, opportunities and resources available to you, and changing it was difficult and/or illegal. This is no longer the case in many places, in large part because of the revolt that I led, and that Ravage and Soundwave helped me to lead."
He sits back down. "We can all capture images with our optics. Ravage is particularly adept at processing and editing images because one of his original functions was to record things. When he projects images, they are normally things he has actually seen. He does it in much the same way that humans use machines to record and project images. I don't know if you have ever seen that--the humans of the Earth I know have 'television' and 'movies' and 'video recording'. That is what Ravage was doing. He projects images from his optics--his eyes."
Loki listens to Megatron's history with somber attention. It's a harsh background to come from, and he has no doubt the details would only make it a darker story still. The overall impression he's getting thus far is of a sort of warrior-poet, no doubt extremely dangerous in his own right, but also a powerfully sympathetic figure to both the culture Loki comes from and to his own proclivities.
The word of compassion directed to him is a surprise, and something in his expression flickers. He reminds himself this person doesn't know the entirety of his story or the enormity of what he did, but regardless, it's a kindness freely offered. "...thank you," he says slowly, after a moment. "It's a complicated tale, but perhaps we'll have time for long stories sooner or later."
He smiles a little then. "Arguably, any shapeshifter is able to shift because of the way they are put together. I think I understand what you mean, though. I cannot take any shape I choose. I have set patterns that mean something to me personally; those I can take at will. I can freely alter any secondary sexual characteristics in this form or my smaller, more humanlike one. I'm also comfortable as a snake, or a mare. Less often, I'm a wolf or spider. I can create other forms, but for them to become as much second nature as the body I wear now, it takes a long, long while to make them my own. I can make up the difference with illusion, though, and I'm able to disguise myself as other people or animals."
He's fascinated, frankly, by the glimpse of treads and gun, and only barely manages to restrain himself from staring longer than would be polite. "It's funny, isn't it," he murmurs, "how a society can fall into such a nonsensical hierarchy and then cling to it like it's the only truth in the universe. It wasn't quite so rigid for us, I don't think, but the magic I learned and loved as a child was considered inappropriate for a man to pursue, particularly a prince of the realm. Deceptive and unbefitting a warrior."
His inclination is to sympathize with the revolt Megatron references, but he opts not to be effusive with praise or curiosity, merely nodding cautious approval.
"It sounds a bit like a hologram, the way you describe Ravage's ability," he says, understanding.
"When I project images, it's a magical illusion. Usually it's the mere bending of light to trick eyes that see in the spectrum humans and Asgardians do, but I've learned to build in more complexity as I've grown older, including wider ranges of light and the illusions of sound and scent."
He's quiet for a moment, thinking, then asks, "I would ask you what it is that Ravage and his companions seek here, in the Nexus, but perhaps that's a question better saved for him."
"I am always curious to interact with beings that bear similarities to my biological kin. My shapeshifting is hereditary, an innate ability, though I have enhanced it by learning other magics. Frost Giants are organic creatures, but--" he holds out his arms as if to display the runic lines on his hands. "they are most definitely extremophiles, and built unlike most other humanoid races. And aside from my alternates, I have had no one to consult about that. A piece of my identity is missing."
"I've made my own identity," Megatron says. "Most of us don't have parents, in the human sense of the word. Our sparks come from the Allspark and up through sacred ground, and are placed into protoforms made of sentio metallico, which are placed in frames. I had an unofficial mentor, Terminus, whom I deeply loved, but no father and certainly no mother. Sometimes you'll meet people who claim to be siblings, but they're either people who were created as a set, like Ravage and Laserbeak and Buzzsaw, or people who were taken into wealthy households and mentored together, like Soundwave and his brother Shockwave, whom you haven't met.
"The point I was trying to make, however badly, is that I don't know any magic, really. When Ravage and I were lovers we once tried a spell from an old book, but nothing happened. All the components of the other things that I can become are contained within me. And yes, we can project holograms. We can project holographic avatars of ourselves as well."
"I'll share what insights I can with you. But I've never had a mother or a father or a brother or a sister or a child. I've had to make my own identity. And everything that I can do, so far as I know, is purely material. Magic, on Cybertron, has never worked for people like Ravage, or me." He shrugs. "I loathe stupid hierarchies as much as you do."
After a moment's thought, he gives a response to the other question. "I don't know exactly what Ravage and Soundwave are up to here. But as someone who loves them, even if things are difficult between us now, and has been a friend and a lover to both of them, while I obviously can't claim to be impartial...I don't believe they are here to exploit or conquer."
That, too, is such a Lucifer sort of thing to say, a smile flickers across Loki's lips. As much as he asserts his own independence, he can only aspire to that level of confidence.
"I was raised by the ancestral enemies of my biological kin. Disguised so well I did not know, myself, that I was not one of them. Discovering that I was adopted from a different species, one I was raised to think of as evil, savage monsters, was a shock I was not prepared to handle."
"Family is to a certain extent what you make of it, even to those of us born from the bodies of our own species. But it's as tricky to deny genetics as it is to deny Fate, and often it results in backlash."
He nods. "I do understand, and I appreciate the clarity. I would still be pleased to continue to compare notes, inasmuch as you're willing to do so."
It says something about Megatron and his temperament, Loki thinks, that he's willing to answer the implied question in plainspoken language, without taking offense. It also says something about Ravage and Soundwave. "After speaking to Ravage, I rather thought not," he says with a smile. "But I've made it my business to keep an eye on some of the more powerful entities that arrive here. When I can."
He frowns a little, because one of said entities is still eluding him and he's grouchy about it, but that's not Megatron's fault. "Besides," he adds, "learning, and knowing things, is its own reward."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
The coordinates should be fine.
[Now Megatron's wondering what to expect from Loki! He's unfiltered, but his propositions are generally unmistakeable for anything other than what they are, and that was not one of them! ^_~]
Switching to prose format, if that's all right with you!
On the other hand, he has some truly traumatic memories associated with hot metal too close to vulnerable skin, and the commentary was at least halfway born of anxiety. It's his way to make light of these things, so he types: Certainly not on a first date, then erases it before he sends the text, opting instead to simply send the set of coordinates.
This accomplished, he makes his way to the meeting-spot himself, riding the autumn wind.
When he arrives, Megatron will find it looks very little like a 'hall' of any sort, at least from the outside. What is there is an open field, a tumble of bare rocks twice the size of a human dwelling, and a dead tree carved with the symbol of a reddened eye. If he is at all sensitive to the kind of energy flux Loki would call magic, though, he may sense there is more here than is easily seen. A cavernous space under the rock, under the ground, which will open only when Loki commands it.
Loki himself, is waiting, seated cross-legged on one of the boulders, already in Jotun form. The ridged cobalt skin stands out against the black of his clothing and hair, and his eyes, like the symbol on the tree above him, are ruby red.
"Well met," he says, and gives a graceful, seated bow, studying his guest in return.
no subject
Megatron is not particularly sensitive to spirituality of any kind, but he is very aware of the electromagnetic force fields that surround living beings, and he is also keenly aware of the interdimensional interstitium, so he might be aware that there is a space below.
He might also just be aware of that because he was originally made to be a deep tunneller--beings who can create illusions designed to fool human senses do not always figure in the capabilities of different life-forms.
To those who can appreciate the craftsmanship, Megatron is certainly beautiful, and his chest armour in particular is decorated with elaborate red inlaid filigree.
If this is an actual date he isn't aware of it, but he sits down on another boulder, moving with a feral sort of grace born of the arena and the depths of the Earth.
"So this is the Nexus."
no subject
Fortunately, the body language is very much like Lucifer's, and while he gets into discussions with Lucifer where they never quite see eye-to-eye, he considers him an ally and friend. That's reassuring, and the echo of red eyes doesn't hurt either. Megatron may notice Loki take a couple breaths before truly recovering, but then he manages a smile.
"This is the part known as the Wilds," he explains. "The Plaza is off behind you, to what appears to be the West today. Things change on a regular basis; were you to return tomorrow, you might find the topography altered. But there is a kind of magic preventing overt violence in the Plaza. The further into the Wilds you get, the less reliable it becomes."
"I'm assuming neither of us are planning violence, though, so that's only relevant should you decide to wander."
What this is, rather than a date, is Loki being a busybody. He has family in the Nexus, and when an unknown quantity appears, he always wants to know what to expect. Ravage struck him as subtly but uncommonly kind, a probable friend in the making, but the sheer versatility and strength presented here makes him reluctant to take that for granted.
That, and a group that calls itself 'Decepticons' is bound to catch at his interest. He prides himself on deception, after all.
He stands and taps the stones behind him with his fingertips, activating the doorway to the hall below. "You are welcome here; please enter, if you so choose."
The space beyond looks well-lit, and quite large. More like a ballroom or throne room than a conference chamber.
no subject
"Interesting. The anti-violence field explains a lot about what Soundwave and Ravage are doing here. I approve of it. I was once an extremely violent person, but I would rather not ever hurt another living thing, if I could avoid it."
He steps into the formally appointed room. "It's beautiful," he says, and nods. "Thank you for your welcome."
Megatron is actually more comfortable now. He's used to having relative strangers address him with fear, lust, or some combination of both--but that behaviour isn't logical, and rarely leads to any sort of worthwhile, lasting tie. Admiration sometimes is, but where there is admiration, there are expectations, and hero-worship can turn into bitter hatred in an astrosecond.
That Loki is apparently trying to assess him somehow makes sense. It shows that Loki is no fool.
Ravage and Soundwave will need more friends like this. And Megatron could use a few more himself.
no subject
What Megatron says is also good to hear. "Likewise," he says. "Though violence itself was a means to an end for me. Control was what I wanted, and that was a very dark time for me. I am by nature tricky and mercurial, but not warlike."
The walls and floor of the meeting hall are mostly pale marble, with clearer seams running through it; it looks as though it's meant to evoke ice. There's a fireplace at one end large enough to roast a whole bull, though it's certainly never been put to that task. By the hearth is a dark wooden table and chairs to match, wide and heavy and magically reinforced to bear the weight of Loki's Jotun form. They're decorated with furs and evergreen and holly.
Loki leads the way to the hearth and selects one of the chairs for his own, sitting with one leg folded up, body listing to the left. "I would offer you refreshment," he says, "but I'm not familiar enough with your kind to know what would be appropriate. Which is one of the reasons I'm curious to talk with you. As far as I'm aware, there are no beings like yourself in the world I come from, and yet some of your abilities are analogous to mine."
He's calmer now, himself, comfortable in his own territory, with the crackle of fire as background noise.
no subject
He sits carefully in the chair, testing it to make sure he won't accidentally break it. "Violence is almost always a means to an end. Those of us who develop a taste for it normally haven't found pleasanter means of getting their needs met effective. When I was very young, I had rather a peaceful nature, but after I was forcibly convinced that violence was the only way to solve our society's problems, I got very good at it very quickly, and people enjoy things they master."
He smiles crookedly. "I am actually an intellectual by inclination. I write poetry. Essays. Philosophical treatises. I am fascinated by medicine and mathematics. These were not career paths that were open to me when I was young. Anyhow--what is it that I do, that you also do, but believe you do differently?"
no subject
In Jotun form, Loki is upwards of 700 pounds, but he's made certain to engineer the chairs to bear more than that. He has at least one close friend in the Nexus that weighs upwards of a ton. (He has yet to have the Indoraptor in for tea, but it could happen.)
"People enjoy the things they master," he echoes thoughtfully. "Isn't that the truth."
"I was forced into a corner," he says. "By a terrible enemy. Kill or be killed. But that is a complicated and unpleasant story."
"I fear I have no gift for composing poetry," he says with regret, "but I enjoy reading it, and listening to it. I was educated in history, the arts, music and dance, and most especially magic. I was in a privileged position in my society, though my talents by and large made me a square peg in a round hole, so to speak."
"You mentioned shapeshifting," he answers the question. "And I've seen Ravage project images in much the same way I would shape illusions. What one culture calls magic may be a learned skill or innate ability in another culture."
no subject
He thinks for a moment. "You mentioned shapeshifting. All of my people can change their shapes, but this is because of the way we are put together. There are only certain shapes that we can assume. To acquire a new alternate mode, one must either have one's spark transferred into the body of someone who has moved into a different body, or chosen to die; or go through exquisitely painful surgical procedures while conscious--which I have done. I can become a tank. With the use of matter displacement technology, I can also become a gun. But I cannot become a truck, or a jet, or a tree, or a bird. The components that make up my body, when shifted into a different configuration, can take the form of a tank."
Megatron stands up and points out the tank gun on his back, and the treads concealed in his upper arms and lower legs. "I fold myself into the other shape," he explains. "My transformation is more technically complex than most because I do make use of interdimensional pockets and mass displacement. But in its simplest form, Cybertronian transformation depends upon having body parts shaped in such a way that they can be folded in and out, latched together and separated, to take on the form of another object. If you look very closely at any of us, you can see clues as to what other forms we might be able to assume. I should, however, caution you that for many of us, this is a sensitive subject. Under the rule of the Functionalists, your alternate mode dictated the choices, opportunities and resources available to you, and changing it was difficult and/or illegal. This is no longer the case in many places, in large part because of the revolt that I led, and that Ravage and Soundwave helped me to lead."
He sits back down. "We can all capture images with our optics. Ravage is particularly adept at processing and editing images because one of his original functions was to record things. When he projects images, they are normally things he has actually seen. He does it in much the same way that humans use machines to record and project images. I don't know if you have ever seen that--the humans of the Earth I know have 'television' and 'movies' and 'video recording'. That is what Ravage was doing. He projects images from his optics--his eyes."
no subject
The word of compassion directed to him is a surprise, and something in his expression flickers. He reminds himself this person doesn't know the entirety of his story or the enormity of what he did, but regardless, it's a kindness freely offered. "...thank you," he says slowly, after a moment. "It's a complicated tale, but perhaps we'll have time for long stories sooner or later."
He smiles a little then. "Arguably, any shapeshifter is able to shift because of the way they are put together. I think I understand what you mean, though. I cannot take any shape I choose. I have set patterns that mean something to me personally; those I can take at will. I can freely alter any secondary sexual characteristics in this form or my smaller, more humanlike one. I'm also comfortable as a snake, or a mare. Less often, I'm a wolf or spider. I can create other forms, but for them to become as much second nature as the body I wear now, it takes a long, long while to make them my own. I can make up the difference with illusion, though, and I'm able to disguise myself as other people or animals."
He's fascinated, frankly, by the glimpse of treads and gun, and only barely manages to restrain himself from staring longer than would be polite. "It's funny, isn't it," he murmurs, "how a society can fall into such a nonsensical hierarchy and then cling to it like it's the only truth in the universe. It wasn't quite so rigid for us, I don't think, but the magic I learned and loved as a child was considered inappropriate for a man to pursue, particularly a prince of the realm. Deceptive and unbefitting a warrior."
His inclination is to sympathize with the revolt Megatron references, but he opts not to be effusive with praise or curiosity, merely nodding cautious approval.
"It sounds a bit like a hologram, the way you describe Ravage's ability," he says, understanding.
"When I project images, it's a magical illusion. Usually it's the mere bending of light to trick eyes that see in the spectrum humans and Asgardians do, but I've learned to build in more complexity as I've grown older, including wider ranges of light and the illusions of sound and scent."
He's quiet for a moment, thinking, then asks, "I would ask you what it is that Ravage and his companions seek here, in the Nexus, but perhaps that's a question better saved for him."
"I am always curious to interact with beings that bear similarities to my biological kin. My shapeshifting is hereditary, an innate ability, though I have enhanced it by learning other magics. Frost Giants are organic creatures, but--" he holds out his arms as if to display the runic lines on his hands. "they are most definitely extremophiles, and built unlike most other humanoid races. And aside from my alternates, I have had no one to consult about that. A piece of my identity is missing."
no subject
"The point I was trying to make, however badly, is that I don't know any magic, really. When Ravage and I were lovers we once tried a spell from an old book, but nothing happened. All the components of the other things that I can become are contained within me. And yes, we can project holograms. We can project holographic avatars of ourselves as well."
Megatron projects his human avatar briefly into the room.
"I'll share what insights I can with you. But I've never had a mother or a father or a brother or a sister or a child. I've had to make my own identity. And everything that I can do, so far as I know, is purely material. Magic, on Cybertron, has never worked for people like Ravage, or me." He shrugs. "I loathe stupid hierarchies as much as you do."
After a moment's thought, he gives a response to the other question. "I don't know exactly what Ravage and Soundwave are up to here. But as someone who loves them, even if things are difficult between us now, and has been a friend and a lover to both of them, while I obviously can't claim to be impartial...I don't believe they are here to exploit or conquer."
no subject
"I was raised by the ancestral enemies of my biological kin. Disguised so well I did not know, myself, that I was not one of them. Discovering that I was adopted from a different species, one I was raised to think of as evil, savage monsters, was a shock I was not prepared to handle."
"Family is to a certain extent what you make of it, even to those of us born from the bodies of our own species. But it's as tricky to deny genetics as it is to deny Fate, and often it results in backlash."
He nods. "I do understand, and I appreciate the clarity. I would still be pleased to continue to compare notes, inasmuch as you're willing to do so."
It says something about Megatron and his temperament, Loki thinks, that he's willing to answer the implied question in plainspoken language, without taking offense. It also says something about Ravage and Soundwave. "After speaking to Ravage, I rather thought not," he says with a smile. "But I've made it my business to keep an eye on some of the more powerful entities that arrive here. When I can."
He frowns a little, because one of said entities is still eluding him and he's grouchy about it, but that's not Megatron's fault. "Besides," he adds, "learning, and knowing things, is its own reward."