#the pilot speaks

[emacrow]

Um.. Superman.. what that thing stuck on your cape?

Clark's brain short circuit for a moment as he just got back of flying at great speed in the middle of deep space to thrown one of Lex's giants bombs destroy the city and come back in record time.

He turn a bit to look at his cape to see a tiny humanoid starlight dust covered child with white hair, glowing full green that look like white specks stars were implanted themselves into his big ol eyes, nawing on a handful of stardust with inhumanly sharp itsy bitsy fangs.

A small yet floating crown that look similar to one of Nasa pictures of far out space.

Did he just accidentally abducted an royal alien child/teen?

[keferon]

Eh okay so. My brain is absolutely cooked so you will probably just have to ignore the linguistic fuckups

Jazz and Prowl learning to communicate because language barrier is a thing >:D

Previous part

Jazz sometimes thinks that somewhere along his career path he lost the bar separating normal from...well...everything else.

After all he's seen, heard about, and done, he's not sure exactly how to measure what's weird and what's normal. He has..the general idea.

His own. And it's so convoluted and fucked up that he'd rather jump into a volcano than try to explain it to anyone else. Jazz thinks the little colorful aliens around him are weird as hell. He thinks they sound weird, he thinks they look weird, and he thinks he must be going crazy.

And then this big black and white robot catches his eye and Jazz's first thought is not "what the fuck??"

His first thought is

"Thank God! Someone's normal!"

Whoever this guy is, he sounds like he knows what he's doing. And most importantly, he looks just like Jazz. Well, not exactly. But close enough. After all, Jazz knows that his organization wasn't the only mech maker on the entire planet. Other countries were making Mechs too, and Jazz hadn't seen even half of them.

But he can recognize a giant robot when he sees one, okay?

The thought that another mech could be an alien doesn't even enter his mind.

So used to the constant presence of huge piloted robots around him, he looks at this one and clings to its appearance as something familiar and easily explainable. His brain says, we know how this works. There's a robot and inside the robot there's another person. It's the way it's always been. The sky is blue, the grass is green and the robots are human-piloted. It's that simple.

The guy takes him to the far corner of the room and says something. Jazz…doesn't understand..

The mech's face contorts in a surprisingly believable display of concentration. How...who built this robot? How could they make it frown?

He hears something else being said to him but again can't understand a word. Why won't this pilot get out of the mech to talk to him? Jazz doesn't have his communication frequency but surely they could at least shake hands. There must be some reason. Maybe something wrong with the air? Is it dangerous to be outside? This guy should know better, he's been here longer than Jazz, it seems.

(Damn it, whose idea was it to make a mech with a face, it's so distracting)

He rushes to activate the external speakers, because he and this guy obviously speak different languages, but it never hurts to try, right?

"So uh, I don't think you can understand English?"

Mech frowns again, trying to pick up on something familiar in a language that's apparently new to him. But finds nothing. Jazz lowers his horns sadly.

Oh well. Fuck. As if being stuck in an unknown place with unknown creatures wasn't enough, he can't even talk to anyone! How is he supposed to get out of here? Which way should he even go?

The mech waves his hand to get his attention and then pulls out a tablet and a stylus from..where ?

Jazz somehow manages to overlook the fact that the tablet is made to fit the mech's size. His head is still feels a bit…off..after that portal thingie.

"Charades it is then."

____________________

An hour and a half later, Jazz finds himself staring intensely at the screen in front of him with a surprisingly neatly drawn chart on it.

"So uh. Motion."

The other guy nods and starts drawing a walking mech. Then something that looks like a very unusual car. Then a submarine. Jazz gets a little lost looking at how skillful he is with the stylus.

Honestly, he's a good artist!

The guy points to the sketch of a walking mech and says

" Motion."

Then points to the drawing of a car driving and the columns of the chart.

"Motion-rotation" he points to the car again.

That must mean "driving" huh? Jazz nods understandingly.

Mech moves his finger to the submarine.

"Motion-Water."

Ah, it must mean swimming. Jazz nods once more, feeling like a wind-up dummy repeating the same motion a dozen times.

The mech makes a quiet humming noise and then points to the chart

"Motion. Sky."

And then gives Jazz the stylus?

Uh, what is he... Oh, he wants Jazz to figure out what it means.

"Motion" and "sky," right?

Jazz takes the stylus? Pencil? Thingie.. and very carefully draws out a crooked scribble of something only remotely resembling an airplane. The mech arches an eyebrow and looks like he wants to laugh.

Jazz shrugs awkwardly and tries to add windows to the airplane, but ends up making it look more like a severely fucked up caterpillar.

Mech snorts.

Jazz kicks him in the leg.

The airplane begs for a merciful death.

Jazz didn't really expect to get into a language class but he has to admit that whatever language he's learning now is a surprisingly easy one. It only took the other dude half an hour to show him the basic concept and from there it became a game of associations.

There were simple definitions. Like size, quantity, speed, emotion and so on.

There were signs that automatically turned the whole sentence into a question or a statement.

There were modifiers that Jazz defined in his head as positive and negative.

Positive speed - fast.

Positive size - large.

Positive direction - forward.

Positive time - future.

There were also basic words for senses, emotions and whatnot, also with modifiers.

Mouth-positive - to speak

Brain-positive - to think, but negative-brain-do-positive - to learn.

Huh.

And it's so neatly organized that Jazz wondered if this language was designed specifically to be easy to learn.

Let's see....

Mouth - positive, effort - negative.

"Easy to speak."

The guy nods contentedly and starts talking back, while pointing to the appropriate columns of the chart to make it easier for Jazz to understand.

"Creation-positive. Purpose. Person-negative-knowledge. memory-positive-effort-negative."

Jazz frowns, concentrating on his finger.

Oh. Created. For those who don't know it. Easy to learn.

He was right. The whole thing is waaaay too awkward to write poetry but learning it is a delight.

Jazz leans over the chart.

All right, well, let's see.

“Name. You. Question?”

The other guy smiles and pokes at the chart

"Me.Motion-sound-negative.Negative-eyes-positive-someone."

Walk quietly. searching?… Sneaking?

Oh, it's not "to sneak" it's "to prowl"

"Prowl" nods affirmatively. Jazz smiles at him and looks at the chart again. Okay. How to say “music”?..

“word-knowledge-negative.”

He stops to make a gesture with his hands, as if playing an invisible piano while humming a tune.

Prowl nods

“Sound-positive-positive-hearing.”

Jazz chuckles

“A whole two positives eh? Okay then. Uh. You don't look like you listen to jazz....so..”

“Me. Name. Sound-positive-positive-listening.”

Prowl raises his eyebrows. (Jazz is jealous, he wishes he had eyebrows too.)

“You're a musician?"

Jazz quickly shakes his head while simultaneously muting the outside speakers to a barely audible level and turning on one of the songs on his playlist.

Prowl twitches in surprise when he hears the melody.

Jazz waits for the intro to finish playing and then points to himself

“Creation-negative..uh..Sound-positive-positive-hearing. Jazz. This...”

He pats himself lightly on the chest.

"..is me. Jazz."

Prowl straightens up slightly

“Oh, you're not a musician, you're the music.”

Jazz nods cheerfully

“Yes yes!”

“Jaaz?”

“No no. Jazz.”

“Ah. Jazz?”

“That's right.”

Prowl draws a portal on the screen.

“You teleported here. What happened?”

Jazz hangs back, trying to construct an answer in his head. Good thing Prowl seems to have infinite patience

“So, I uh. What was 'fight'? Movement-pain-positive? I fought these things...”

He takes the tablet from Prowl and draws a crooked blot with a bunch of tentacles on it. Then thinks for a bit and adds big teeth and a lot of eyes. He's not really sure how to draw those eyes properly, so he just scatters them randomly around the monster area.

Prowl doesn't seem to be that amused by Jazz's drawings anymore, in fact, he suddenly becomes very somber.

“Quintessons.”

He pokes at the monster

“Name-Quintessons. Number-question.”

How many?

Jazz scratches the back of his head

“So uh...a lot?....number-positive-positive-positive-positive-positi...you get the idea.”

To be convincing, he dramatically spreads his arms out to the sides depicting something very large.

Prowl looks alarmed.

And unconvinced.

“How did you survive?”

Jazz laughs pretentiously

“Ask them how they survived.”

Prowl makes the “you can't be serious” face. Jazz isn't quite sure what exactly is confusing him. Mechs are designed to kill Quintessons, aren't they? Judging by his movements, this pilot must be damn good at controlling his mech, and that kind of guys usually fight on the front lines.

He decides to put that thought aside for later. There are more important things right now, like...oh shit, where is he even going??

Jazz leans over the chart again

“Uh. Right. Question-we-move-up-place” Man, how to specify... “Knowledge-negative?”

Prowl, linguistic gods bless him, understands him and starts gesturing over the chart in response

Okay. Ah. I-move-up. Planet-creation-positive.

'I'm heading home' or 'my home planet'.”

Jazz instantly perks up.

“Oh that's great, I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to go there too.”

Prowl is speaking in a language he's unfamiliar with, so he's definitely from another country, but hey, who cares as long as it's on Earth, right? He just needs to get there and he'll find his own way from there.

He watches the space debris flicker by outside the window. Even the stars are unfamiliar, Jazz can't find any constellations he knows.

One of the little purple creatures says something and Prowl steps aside to chat with them. Jazz leans back and settles into a more or less stable position. Then does the same thing, but with his real, human body. Hell, his head still feels really fucking weird after that teleportation.

He opens the comm channel and just listens to the static for a couple minutes in the faint hope that the engineering department will find a way to contact him.

Nothing.

He sighs.

“1061 on the com. In case there's any way you can hear me...ah shit. You guys won't believe what happened...”

[twinsunsintatooine]

josh and jim are so twins like that’s human jim right there

[anonymouscheeses]

Gimme them gimme them dope and diamonds

Diet Mountain Dew, baby, New York city

Never was there ever a girl so pretty

Do you think we'll be in love forever?

Do you think we'll be in love...?

[never-looked-so-good]

📷 @/charles_leclerc

[ohmystarrynight]

Better luck next time Bertie! But Thomas, PLEASE be mindful of your poor aunties they don’t like when you race for goodness sake!!!

I think it’s so cute that they race in so many movies and episodes :,)

Also- hey hey! Thomas art! Woah! Been a minute for sure.

[anomura]

gale is so passenger princess... he flies the planes but when they're on the ground he's just gonna sit and stare while john drives

[aardvaark]

And that actually is one of the bits that we wound up not being able to ever do quite as much as we want - is Parker picks locks like other people knit. And if you watch carefully in the pilot, in the foreground when they’re back in the apartment, she has a giant box of locks she’s picking. That’s just kind of her hobby.

-- John Rogers, episode commentary for The Wedding Job

[california-112]

"Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?"

The X-Files | S01E01 'Pilot'

[thomas-jefferson-miku-binder]

Something about how Jim became so accustomed to Starfleet parlance that it’s the only parlance he can speak at all. Something about how his relationship with his ship and his work as Captain extends to language as well, to the way he handles and expresses his emotions.

Amok Time – Kirk is confronted with the fact Spock keeps a dangerous secret that, if not shared, might end up with his first officer killed

The Apple – With the landing party marooned on a strange planet and the USS Enterprise being pulled ever closer to the ground, Kirk asks Scotty something beyond excellence.

The Doomsday Machine – Commodore Matt Decker stands in the maw of a monster with a dead crew and stripped of any will to live. Kirk tries to bring his old friend to reason, but nothing else can be done for Decker as he looks death in the eye.

I understand how, especially in the third instance with Matt Decker, he might've seemed cold (your buddy is about to off himself, and you remind him the higher-ups spent too much money on his formation), but I see it more as Kirk trying to ground both himself and his friend (who is also a Commodore, might I remind you) than simply reducing Decker to his position.

It also accidentally reveals a lot about Jim (although reveal is not the best word, as that same thought has been explored in numerous episodes before), how much his sense of worth is tied to his job—to how well he can perform and excel at it.

But that's not all he's saying. In both instances (Amok Time and Doomsday Machine), Kirk puts himself in the Federation's place because he sees its recognition as more valuable, more "worth living for" than his own.

It's his way, the way of a man who knows no life other than that of servitude, of saying I care about you, and I don't want to lose you.

It's really tragic that it is not enough to save Decker. If both Matt and Jim share the belief (which appears more often than not in Starfleet overachievers) that your inner worth is tied to how well you can perform it, Matt is left face to face with the rather morbid fact that he failed severely and his whole crew is dead because of it.

To sin is human, yes, but if the Doomsday Machine is the Devil, as the Commodore himself put it, it truly is a shame Decker did not view himself as deserving of forgiveness

[paradoxbeta]

messy coloring i did over a messier ms paint sketch very late last night

[twinsunsintatooine]

tyler was so real when he said sundays are suicide days

[doctorsiren]

Gang I’m seeing Twenty One Pilots today !! 🫶💥

[pinkprincessert]

if I had a nickel for every time there was official art featuring characters of a ship that I am incredibly mentally ill for drinking together however another character who is adjacent to one of them as basically an adopted son also in the scene and not catching the vibe of the other two-

I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice

[stonenumberone]

SUPERNATURAL 1x01 Pilot

You think mom would have wanted this for us?

[coulson-is-an-avenger]

thinking abt stacker pentecost feeling his drift partner die in his mind and then somehow, somehow carrying on, standing alone when no one had ever done that before, burning as the radiation threatened to consume his mind and body. thinking about pentecost winning that impossible fight and stumbling out of the corpse of his jaeger - skin smoking and body screaming and mind gaping from the loss of his partner, looking out at a battlefield of gray and blood and emptiness, of death and metal and alien flesh and then out from it all stepping a little girl, just a tiny girl clutching her shoe like her bleeding heart in her hand, staring up at him with an awe that strikes him deeper than the radiation ever could. she smiles at him like he is the sun, like he is her messiah, and in that moment, he feels his breath start in his chest again. through her he remembers what he is doing this for, who he is suffering for. through her he finds the beauty of humanity, the goodness in every person he is fighting to protect. he goes down to her, his mind and body burning, and he carries her home. she carries her shoe, and he carries her. both of them hold their hearts in their hands.