Smothering his face into the plush cushions - they even smelled right, imported fluxweave from Nebulon? - Mirage didn't want to get up. Turning his head far enough to see did nothing to break the fragile illusion that was confounding his senses. The room was bright and airy and decadent, the style of furniture and wall scrolling painfully similar to some of the older elite areas of the tower that Mirage had visited and occasionally lived in during his youth.
After living in military grade ships, scraped together bases, and hiding in equally military enemy camps for the last several million cycles- it was almost too much.
"...'M perfectly well." He closed his optics as Cliffjumper's red feet shifted awkwardly into view.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2015-10-03 12:17 am (UTC)Smothering his face into the plush cushions - they even smelled right, imported fluxweave from Nebulon? - Mirage didn't want to get up. Turning his head far enough to see did nothing to break the fragile illusion that was confounding his senses. The room was bright and airy and decadent, the style of furniture and wall scrolling painfully similar to some of the older elite areas of the tower that Mirage had visited and occasionally lived in during his youth.
After living in military grade ships, scraped together bases, and hiding in equally military enemy camps for the last several million cycles- it was almost too much.
"...'M perfectly well." He closed his optics as Cliffjumper's red feet shifted awkwardly into view.