red_diode_district | The Start of Something Interesting...

Mirage stared for a long moment, internally shaking his head and trying not to be annoyed. Cliffjumper was not special operations - it wasn't fair to expect him to know what he needed to do and how to prepare for such a mission.

But that didn't mean he was immune to the aggravation.

"Planning? You do realize we need to come up with our supposed story ahead of time, correct? We cannot make up the lies and 'history' on the fly, Cliffjumper."

To be honest, Cliffjumper wasn't just not special operations, he also sometimes needed things to be spelled out for him.

"Planning..?" Staring up at Mirage, even if what the mech was saying now made sense, Cliffjumper suddenly felt ill and had to resist the urge to yell at Mirage to just get out.

Or storm out of the (his own) room himself.

"... Fine," Cliffjumper said, growling out the single word as he substituted stomping out to to stomp across the room to throw himself to sit on the berth. Not that he wanted to sit on the berth with Mirage in here, but he wanted even less Mirage to sit on it.

That was just inviting trouble - trouble his processor was already latching to with an eagerness that was just shamefully embarrassing.

"I guess you should sit down," Cliffjumper said, jerking his hand to the chair at the desk. It was adjustable, so all Mirage had to do for it to fit him was to adjust the height setting.

Cliffjumper and the other minibots had been relieved the Ark had those "amenities", mostly because as the war went on, they became less and less usual when resources dwindled or just got harder to access because the other faction was fighting just as hard to get at them or stop them from accessing or processing them.

"...Thank you."

Startled- but pleased by the easy agreement, Mirage carefully took the offered seat. It only took a moment to adjust, and Mirage was pleasantly surprised to find an adjustable seat at all in a minibot's apartment. It would be rather undignified to be giving this discussion with his knees up by his face, squashed into a mini-scaled chair. Once they were both settled, he began.

"Now then. In my experience, the easiest lie to keep is one that isn't a lie at all - or is, at least, as close to the truth as possible. With your...inexperience in this, it would be for the best. The fewer lies to accidentally get tangled in, the better."

He waved a hand erratically, implying the general explosion that could result.

"Now, we certainly don't need to go into exaggerated detail, but covering the basic facts that may come up in conversation - where we met, how long ago, why we -ahem- 'bonded', a few mutual hobbies, etc - should suffice. Do you understand?"

He really didn't want to have this discussion.

Mirage's gratitude slithered down somewhere, and Cliffjumper wasn't sure if he was pleased by it, or if it was just acid in a wound at this point, and briefly looked away.

He really, really didn't want to have this discussion, which became even more clear when Mirage elaborated. These were not things he wanted to have to hash out artificially, and it felt sort of mocking.

Not that Mirage meant it that way.

"Yeah, sure," Cliffjumper said with a huff, and then had to bite his lower lip and reset his vocaliser in the hope to control the snappishness of his tone. They sort of needed to be on good terms with each other, and it wasn't like he wanted Mirage to dislike him even more just because he apparently couldn't be reasonable.

"Don't see why we can't just go with how we actually met," Cliffjumper said with a frown, crossing his arms over his chestplating, "sure, that ain't very long ago, but I don't see how it matters."

Well "not very long ago" was still over four million years ago, considering their "nap", but if Mirage wanted them to keep as close to the truth as possible... keeping their meeting from when the Ark mission first was assembled should be a pretty good place, right?

There was even two vorns between that and the Ark actually taking off to use as basis for their... relationship.

Surprisingly, Mirage actually smiled faintly, though the gesture was somewhat wry.

"Exactly. I admit, I'm surprised you remember-" Mirage was surprised he himself remembered - "but yes, we can."

Even if their first meeting seemed to set the tone of their future interactions: bumping into each other constantly on their shared patrol, ending in conflict before the shift was even over...

"They already 'know' we...don't always see optic-to-optic. Such a start seems fitting enough. Which should nicely cover up any disputes we may have within their hearing."

"As if I could forget," Cliffjumper muttered, looking away not so much from annoyance as to avoid that smile. Wry or not, it was embarrassing how much he liked the expression on Mirage's face.

It softened up the narrow angles - Mirage was handsome, yes, but it was also a very clean, distant sort of beauty. Smiling made him seem a bit more... approachable.

Real?

Cliffjumper grimaced and shook his helm.

Frag it all.

"I know some people would think it'd be fraggin' hilariously ironic." He refused to say 'romantic'.

Really now? Wasn't that...surprising. And a little disheartening. But really, the spy shouldn't have expected anything less. The mech had seemed to have it out for him for some time, after all...

"Quite so," Mirage agreed with a shrug. "So it should work in our favor." He decided to leave the rather painful discussion of 'bonding' for last. He pulled out a datapad, deciding to take notes just in case.

"Hobbies, then? I suppose we can compare a list and come up with something shareable."

Mirage would probably feel less... disheartened if he knew why the meeting had stuck with Cliffjumper. Or rather, how the reason it'd stuck had changed.

Of course, Cliffjumper also wouldn't want him to know.

"Ugh..." shifting on the berth, Cliffjumper scowled at the floor and didn't at all like the warm awkwardness that bubbled up. He didn't want to talk to Mirage about this.

Not because it was particularly embarrassing or anything (well, hopefully), but because it was such an awkward way to share interests.

And not for any fun reason, either.

"... racing," Cliffjumper finally said, still staring at the floor. That was something safe to start with. No way for Mirage to judge him for that one.

"Wresting, though I doubt ya like that one," Cliffjumper shrugged - he knew it was mostly a minibot thing, "Action, adventure and... uh. Mystery holos..."

Trailing off, Cliffjumper was now staring very hard at the floor, and couldn't help the blush. He even liked the type of action favoured by the military coded mechs - but mostly for the energy of them, they very quickly got... a bit too real, even for Cliffjumper.

Mystery, however... He'd quickly found human 'mystery' books or movies weren't quite the same as cybertronian ones, where there was a seamless blend of thriller, who-dunnit type of plot (though quite often with a different thrust than murder, which seemed very popular among humans), treasure-hunts and similar things.

He was also pretty aware most people didn't think him the type to like that sort of thing. Cliffjumper had quite often been vaguely relieved he didn't like the more relation-centered ones (once again, a blend of what humans would consider different genres) between romance, drama-focused slice-of-life and very often workplace-focused holos.

"Racing is a good place to start. I certainly can't argue against that," Mirage gestured down at his own racing frame, amused.

He made a note on his datapad, trying not to make a face at the idea of wrestling outside of combat for fun. That one was probably not for him.

The others, though...

"'Mystery holos'?" He probably sounded more incredulous than intended, but he perked up noticeably in interest.

"Any in particular?"

Racing was, really, an extremely safe option, regardless of whether the interest lay in participating or watching, amateur or professional races - nearly any given cybertronian (well, except the aerials) would have an interest in it, and Cliffjumper flashed a brief, lopsided grin at Mirage's comment.

The incredulity after that was enough to make him look away with a scowl and squirm though, optics brightening in embarrassment.

"Do ya actually need to know that?" Cliffjumper muttered, not sure how to take the apparent interest. The worst thing after being judged for liking it would be finding a shared interest and then ending up revealing he liked movies Mirage didn't.

Reluctantly, though, the recounted a few of the ones he liked and one of his favourites. He wasn't going to give them all up, because this was embarrassing enough.

"What about you?" Cliffjumper glanced back at Mirage, pushing the question over to him not just to put the spotlight off him, but also because he was curious.

Of course, most of the things Mirage liked would probably not be things they shared. Or could share, given the differences in background and (former) class.

"Why not?" Mirage countered, helm tilting. "Perhaps I might want to see if I have already viewed them, or may want to watch them in the future?"

He shrugged casually, hiding any feelings of insult behind politeness, before gesturing down at himself.

"Me? Well... Racing as well, of course. I prefer racing on the hunt, but that... isn't something that is much of an option these days - unless a Decepticon is involved." His smirk was wry and a little vicious at the thought, before smoothing back out.

"In my not very considerable free time, I enjoy rereading and viewing some of the classics, both Golden Age and...newer fare. Mostly drama and serials."

Another shrug, though Mirage wasn't quite meeting Cliffjumper's optics. He didn't really want to confess his undying love for the Cybertronian equivalent of 'soap operas', but it was something a dear lover would honestly know, more the pity.

At least he was not alone. He knew for a fact Optimus followed them just as religiously, and they both occasionally met up to watch (and violently critique) the unofficial continuations the more dramatically inclined Autobots in other bases filmed independently.

"I guess," Cliffjumper said, still giving Mirage a narrow look. He wasn't sure he believed him, but if he was being serious? Well that was... well, it'd be interesting if they actually shared some interests, wouldn't it?

The racing thing wasn't unexpected, though the particular way of it... Cliffjumper would've said something, except that that brief flash of viciousness caught him and he ended up staring.

Since he was already staring, he did catch Mirage not quite meeting his optics, and while there was an ugly little flare of smugness that Mirage had, probably, similar feelings of not wanting to reveal certain things, it was also just... nice, that Mirage had things he felt the same way about.

He couldn't quite help raising his optic ridges at first, but then he snorted and grinned faintly.

"Well, you ain't alone in that on the ship. Not my favourite thing though. Too much... drama." He waggled a hand to try an encompass what he meant. Complications, more like. It was enough to make him frustrated, the times he tried to sit down for Bumblebee's sake. He preferred his plot-related obstacles to come from outside sources, not from people.

"... and hey, maybe they've got fox huntin' on Paradron, if that's what ya... uh, meant," Cliffjumper added after a moment, looking up at Mirage and then glancing away, feeling decidedly awkward for having suggested it.

Well. At least it seemed like Cliffjumper wouldn't hold his viewing preferences against him. Surprise, surprise!

"Fictional drama is so satisfying, though!" Mirage argued, amused. Much better than the real thing, that couldn't be escaped from or caused lingering problems when the slag hit the fans.

He perked up in surprise at Cliffjumper's suggestion, both at the idea and the person who suggested it.

"...now that is something to look forward to," Mirage said with a smile.

He'd only hold them against Mirage on the ground that he couldn't get what the attraction was in general, but that was the same sort of thing he had against Bee liking it as well.

"If you say so..." Cliffjumper said, shaking his helm, "Bee says the same." He just didn't get it. It didn't matter who it was who liked them, to Cliffjumper it was all incomprehensible. But it wasn't something you could judge someone for, really... He knew they were popular.

But on the other hand it wasn't odd that Mirage was feeling somewhat embarrassed over having to admit it, either, considering who he was.

Looking back at Mirage when he spoke again, mostly for the tone he used, Cliffjumper was drawn into a smile, and surprised to find himself smiling, but Mirage looked happy, and he was pleased he'd been right to point it out when the thought popped up.

"That's... er, good." And then he looked away again, blushing briefly and flustered that he blushed because frag it all, there was no reason to do that!

"Anything else we need to figure out?" Better to say something than sit there in awkward embarrassment.

Chuckling, Mirage nonetheless shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but it's hardly that simple."

He made a note on his datapad, ticking his way down a list.

"We should go into more detail about things we may supposedly enjoy together. Various holos may do the trick, but we should probably find others. And we will have to go into the nature of your...sensitivity eventually."

And their supposed bonding. He wasn't yet sure which would be the most difficult.

"But for now: you do go to the shooting range often, yes?"

Grimacing at Mirage's very unwelcome denial of things being over and the mention of his... 'sensitivity' again, Cliffjumper huffed and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chestplates.

"Uh... yeah?" then, pausing, Cliffjumper scowled and looked away before he met Mirage's optics again, expression mulish but strangely insistent, "it ain't the only thing I do to relax, but it... helps, ya know? And I'm trainin' at the same time, so..."

He hated the digs where people thought he loved weapons so much he lived in the shooting range or had no other ways to unwind. He wasn't sure if Mirage was of that opinion as well, so he wasn't... quite defensive, just a bit frustrated.

He didn't actually like guns much. He liked the big ones because they could finish battles far more quickly in his opinion, and he liked that he could defend himself and others and was determined to do so, and while he probably would never feel comfortable again without a gun nearby... he wasn't precisely obsessed with them either.

"And why go we even gotta talk about my... sensitivity?" pure confusion, if a bit grumpy, as Cliffjumper looked to Mirage, helm tilting, "it ain't like it matters more than that it's what's needed for you to be slaggin' bonded according to the religious nuts."

"Because it will come up, whether we like it or not. We can delay the discussion, but we will have to go over it before we ship out on this mission, just to be on the safe side."

Mirage wanted to deal with it now, but pushing Cliffjumper too much all at once seemed like a bad idea; so he shrugged and let it pass for the moment.

"And shooting is another thing we can 'share'. As you seem to know about turbofox hunting, it should be little surprise that I enjoy keeping my aim sharp. The range is good- hunting would be better. Even if there are no turbofoxes involved."

He grimaced again at that, but the implicit promise that talking about that could wait a bit was enough to make some of the tension in Cliffjumper's frame bleed out. Sure, they couldn't postpone all of the (other) difficult topics to right before they left or something, but at least that one shouldn't be an issue, right?

"Well, that and we are in a slaggin' war," Cliffjumper couldn't help but comment, rolling his optics. Mirage might never have been too enthusiastic about it, but he'd done his part, and especially on Earth he'd certainly had to participate in full-on battlefield combat.

"Not that I know much 'bout fox huntin', but I guess we..." had to pause there, forcing his field to still over the flustered wiggle it wanted to do when he said 'we'. There was no we, except for this... this pretend thing, so that his stupid fragging frame would react like that...

Somewhere, there was that sick twist inside, and Cliffjumper pushed it away and shook his helm.

"Uh, I mean, could've been doin'... something, like it? We've got a lot of space 'round the Ark, after all." Shrugging, Cliffjumper frowned. He'd never understood why fox hunting would be one of the things the nobles kept secret.

It wasn't the only thing, of course, and there were probably a lot most people didn't even know the nobles kept very quiet about their traditions and whatever else slag, but you'd have to have been newly sparked to not know about nobles and turbofox hunting.

Not that anyone, and of course not Cliffjumper either, knew more than that. He wasn't even sure if he should feel annoyed about it, or if he should think it was terrible... so he usually settled on his usual vague disdain over the nobles.

"Shooting because 'we're in a war' versus because we might enjoy the practice are two different things entirely."

"There is," Mirage agreed, lips twitching, "The forests and mountain are perfect ground for hunts, chases, and seek-and-finds."

Mirage grinned, expression somewhat nostalgic; he'd once played every sort of hunting 'game' imaginable before the loss of the Towers and the start of the war. It was a silly thing to long for, of course, but...

He shook his head and glanced away, managing an apologetic shrug.

"They can be quite enjoyable. ...But yes, perhaps something more in line with your own interests as well? Or we could simply press forward to the more...detailed portions of our mission cover."

"Do somethin' like that with Bee and sometimes Windcharger," Cliffjumper said with a thoughtful frown. Using the surroundings while chasing each other in a not-quite race was really fun.

"So I guess that could be something?" The thought of actually getting to do that with Mirage sounded fun, and just in a general way, disregarding anything else. It probably wouldn't ever happen though - this was just to establish what they would logically be doing if they actually were involved.

Then he just shook his helm and flashed a grin.

"Hey, if you're willing to watch... or, uh actually like those type of holos, I'm fine. And we both like racing... and well, I can even sit down for one of those slagging dramas, I do it for Bee. As long as ya don't make me play games," Cliffjumper said with a roll of his optics - mostly because every blasted game seemed to just be a variation on a strategy game, and that just wasn't Cliffjumper's... forté.

The type he did like were closer to human puzzles and those... were games for those who were newly sparked. Bee had given him a few human ones (like that coloured cube) and while most of them weren't particularly hard, they were still enjoyable.

... He might have been trying to ignore Mirage's mention of moving on to the more "detailed portions" of their mission, regardless of how flustered talking about this made him - or how it made his insides twist, since these were things he'd wanted to know, and now that he realised they might actually share some interests?

Well, it didn't make anything better. Cliffjumper also had to admit that, if he actually disliked Mirage a lot, he'd probably be more tolerant by now from this conversation.

Hiding a snicker at the idea of Cliffjumper running wild with Bumblebee and Windcharger, Mirage nodded down at the smaller mech in thoughtful consideration.

"I would be willing to watch them," Mirage agreed quietly, surprised but pleased by Cliffjumper's slight mistake in his speech.

"We'll have to pass the downtime somehow, after all. Might as well be doing mutually enjoyable activities that also happen to further our cover."

He wasn't blind to Cliffjumper's deliberate avoidance, but he let it pass for the moment.

The admission made something twist warmly inside - and then Cliffjumper had to push it down with a vengeance, because it was just for the mission. Primus, he hoped he ended up having the crush chased out of him...

Otherwise he might just end up confessing to get Mirage to turn him down and maybe then he could stop being stupid. But the thought of confessing his feelings made him want to go bang his helm against a wall or something, so it wouldn't happen any time soon.

"Yeah, I guess..." pausing, Cliffjumper realised something, "I guess we could... I dunno. Walk around too? I mean, it's not gonna be like Earth, I assume, and while it ain't gonna be Cybertron..." shrugging, Cliffjumper suddenly realised - and was rather taken aback by the thought, somehow - that they'd be on a planet not caught in war.

A planet with a normal, functioning society and all what that meant.

There'd actually be more things to watch than ruins and the threat of attack - Earth was somewhat similar, but while, okay, the various environments were interesting, it just... wasn't the same.

Resetting his optics, Mirage nodded slowly. Of course, he knew Paradron was a untouched colony world. That was half of the reason they were doing this in the first place. But hearing Cliffjumper say it, mentioning that they could just go for a stroll down a normal city road...

Mirage grinned, wide and honestly, nostalgia and hope making his spark warm in his chest.

"Yes... Yes, that is something we can most definitely do." He perked up, voice brightening with pleasure.

"Sightseeing is surely already on the list, as the Paradrons will want to show off their colony... But I'm sure we can explore on our own as well."

"If we can't, I think that'll be a warnin' bell on its own," Cliffjumper said with a snort and a roll of his optics, looking away from Mirage's wide grin because otherwise he'd stare.

Slag it all.

And then, if only to get something else to distract him... though he was curious, honestly...

"Wonder what Paradron looks like..." he sort of both hoped and dreaded the thought that it might look similar, if not identical, to Cybertron. That would... hurt. But it'd also be nice, to be able to walk somewhere that was familiar again, and not this organic mudball that Earth was, no matter that it did have its bright points.

"Exactly," Mirage agreed, though he highly doubted such an event would occur. It was possible, of course; Cliffjumper wasn't completely paranoid, but he seemed to have a knack for finding the worst possible scenario in any idea he didn't like. Mirage couldn't help but wonder if the minibot's suspicious mind wouldn't be useful picking apart some of the more reckless of plans.

Cliffjumper, Red Alert, and Prowl in a room together. The idea forced him to hide a snort that he covered up by fumbling for his subspace.

"Well, that I can help with, a little."

He pulled out a holocube, placing it on the nearest flat surface between them.

"The Paradrons did want to show off their home a little bit, to entice us to visit of course."

He activated the cube, throwing up a small projection of what the Paradron's considered their most beautiful or most famous locals.

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