The Start of Something Interesting...

[lastonepercent]

The day was calm, with no recent Decepticon attacks, and none suspected to be incoming for some time.  The cons were too busy licking their wounds from the last battle, one that the Autobots had decidedly come out ahead on.  The celebrations had gone on long into the night and the recreation room was already a mess.

Thus, it was the perfect chance for a lone Autobot to slip casually outside.

Mirage had no shift currently scheduled, so he was free to spend his time as he pleased.  He certainly made no move to hide his departure, greeting his comrades in the halls on the way out, but the box in his hands remained unopened despite any passing curiosity.  It was quietly shifted into subspace before long, and  the former noble shifted into alt mode just as smoothly when he reached the doors.  Despite the completely inappropriate earthen race car mode, the mech had little trouble self-adjusting before driving off into the forest covering the mountain, for business unknown...

Comments

[lastonepercent]

"Well, I don't know about destined spark mates," Mirage grinned, helm falling back with a chuckle. The idea was as cheesy as it was sparkwarming, really. It wasn't something Mirage pondered all too often, even if it warmed his vents at the thought.

"That is rumor and legend even to us, despite some rites that may hint otherwise."

He shook his helm, optics bright. Sorry Cliffjumper, no yes or no answer on that one.

"But yes, there are confirmed records of spark ghosts - very rare - same for multiple-ability outliers."

[cliffjumper]

"Oh." Cliffjumper wasn't sure whether he was relieved or a bit annoyed it wasn't true. Even if Mirage didn't know one way or another. Because the thing was if it was true, then all the twittering about it would at least make sense.

On the other hand, if it wasn't true there wasn't anyone who fit better for anyone else beyond the usual ways.

With a little huff, Cliffjumper shook his helm and then looked back at Mirage, frowning.

"Really? How's the latter even supposed to work anyway?"

[lastonepercent]

"Ghosts? Or you mean outliers?"

Mirage could only shrug, somewhat helpless.

"We are unsure. Most aren't stupid enough to allow themselves to be caught and tested. Sparked with multiple chips or a glitch in the chip-reading programming? I don't know, I am a priest not a theoretical medic."

[cliffjumper]

"Both, I guess..." Cliffjumper said, tilting his helm as Mirage attempted some scientific explanation. And while that was probably more logical and funny both, it wasn't what he'd expected as a reply.

He grinned nonetheless.

"Well, maybe you should change career, that was a pretty good attempt." Well, to be honest, Cliffjumper didn't know at all if it had been, but teasing Mirage, even now in this sort of truce, just came out anyway.

[lastonepercent]

"Ha ha, very amusing." Mirage huffed, only half serious.

A quick check of his internal chronometer made Mirage start in his chair, sitting up with a quick stretch.

"Well. If we're done here, we should probably get going. Or at least, I should. You could probably stay here if you wished, though I should take that tour soon."

Though relaxed once again, Mirage wasn't sure if pressing Cliffjumper to take the tour and behave at the same time would be a wise course of action.

[cliffjumper]

Cliffjumper, torn between wanting to know what their (very) temporary 'base' looked like, and not at all feeling like treading on whatever fine line Mirage considered 'reasonable' in this situation, hesitated for a moment before he grunted and shook his helm.

"You go. I'll keep an optic on things in here," Cliffjumper said, and he'd just have to... trust that Mirage would tell him anything he needed to know from the tour. Even if that made his spark rebel, he also didn't feel like having the same sort of situation like when they'd first gotten onboard.

[lastonepercent]

"Very well," Mirage agreed, trying not to sound too relieved. Stretching, he slid out of the comfortable seat with a florish, plating and field settling back into a more appropriate 'priestly/diplomatic' mindset. He gave himself a once-over in the nearest mirror, buffing a mostly imaginary scuff from his arm with a quickly appearing-and-disappearing polishing cloth.

"Comm me if anything changes."

Giving Cliffjumper a final nod, Mirage headed out the door, giving the diplomats a comm ping to let them know he was on his way.