"Walk with me for a while?" Whatever the reason for Arcee's question, Cliffjumper gave the offered arm a stare and then he snorted, shaking his helm even as he hooked his arm with hers.

"Ya sure you want us to clash?" Of course, considering Hot Rod, she must have accepted this by now, and just laughs softly at the smaller mech, leading the small contigent of five around the large balcony slowly.

::Yeah, I... I mean, I think so. I dunno why Mirage's so recalcitrant 'bout it, or why weapons an' skills like that are separated by caste lines...:: Cliffjumper managed to keep his expression free from any reaction to the internal conversation, even if his broadcast tone indicated annoyance.

::In the dark, without anyone capable of pickin' up other ranges of the visual spectrum; his paint's reflective in a few other bands.:: The smirk, while again kept of his faceplates, was clearly evident.

At this point, however, Optimus would be getting a heavily encrypted, narrow-band message that had clearly been bounced enough to not reveal who the sender was. The message was clear; an offer of a quite substantial amount of credits for handing over his charge at a provided set of coordinates after the party.