red_diode_district | The Start of Something Interesting...

The Start of Something Interesting...

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...

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It was useless and boring, was what it was!

Mirage's comment, which was the first Cliffjumper had really registered in a bit, made the minibot grimace and nod in agreement. Nothing wrong with Earth's atmosphere, really, but the planet itself was a mudball.

"You have been fighting on Earth that long?" this time it wasn't the ambassador that spoke up, but rather one of her aides, and Cliffjumper frowned, glanced to Mirage, and then looked at the slender mech.

"Nah. But we crashed on it millions of years ago and got stuck in stasis lock." He couldn't quite stop the grimace, and there were a few sympathetic looks in return. Stasis lock was almost perfect, but sometimes you briefly got more aware as your systems checked the surroundings.

"Yes, that," Mirage sighed, making a face at the recollection, but his field flickered in muted approval at Cliffjumper actually joining the conversation despite his dislike of everything.

"Quite a unpleasant waste of time. So you can see why living life to the fullest is a bit more appealing that it might usually be." He joked lightly.

He wasn't pleased with that little flicker of approval. He didn't care, all right? Except, of course he did and Cliffjumper made sure he didn't grin, because that'd just be embarrassing.

Soft laughter and a few nods went through the cabin, and then they'd finally landed, the city that had risen up to meet them so much like what he could remember from before the war it almost hurt.

There were, of course, even obvious differences Cliffjumper noted while the ambassador led them out and he honestly didn't listen to whatever she said, at all. Far more interested by seeing proof of a genuinely and proper cybertronian city.

Stepping out of the ship was an experience.

Basking not in the alien sun, but the sights and sounds and fields around them, Mirage paused when he took the first steps off the ship's ramp.

It wasn't the same.

It wasn't home. But nothing ever could be home again.

But it was close. It felt like the colony worlds he'd been on before.

Optics flickering, he took a moment to appreciate the experience, arms spreading wide in the opening chorus of a blessing upon a colony world.

Edited 2015-07-10 06:04 (UTC)

Cliffjumper almost stomped right on - after he'd had his own moment of quiet staring - when Mirage stopped, but when the crowd that was waiting for them registered, plus the fact that Mirage wasn't moving, Cliffjumper stopped.

Glancing back up at Mirage, it didn't take much to realise he must be doing some sort of... priest thing, and with a quick look around it was obvious the gathered Paradronians approved.

Well, that was a good thing, he supposed.

Resisting the urge to roll his optics, Cliffjumper dropped his gaze to the ground - that ought to be safe enough, right? - until Mirage was done.

It wasn't even for show; Mirage was doing preforming the rite before he even realized it. It was almost as much of a surprise to himself as it was to Cliffjumper; falling right back into the role of priest as if he had never left it.

Thankfully, it was fairly brief - it was too informally started to be anything but brief - song echoing from his vocalizer with true feeling despite the short duration of the rite. He wasn't terribly surprised when a few others joined in, matching tone if not words. Some things had obviously changed between Cybertronian and Paradrion versions, but the sentiment and purpose matched, and that was what was important.

Standing there waiting for the short Blessing to be over, Cliffjumper caught movement out of the corner of his optics, and saw, to his disgust, that the Decepticons had gone through with sending their own envoy, though Thundercracker didn't looked all too pleased to be there, and his Paradronian entourage looked slightly pinched.

That, if nothing else, was pleasing enough, and Cliffjumper ducked his helm again so he wouldn't be seen smirking smugly.

When Mirage was done, a tall, slender mech flanked by eleven others stepped forward, smiling at both the Cybertronian ambassadors.

"Welcome, and may your sparks ever shine bright."

"Well met," Mirage said graciously, arms wide. "May your lights never dim."

The Paradonian greeting meshed well enough with some of the older Cybertronian ones, thankfully enough. His smile was genuine enough as well - only just helped along by the scene occurring by the Deception transport that he could just barely catch out of the side of his optics.

"We thank you for the warm welcome and transport to your beautiful world." He gestured vaguely around with a slight bow, burying his grief and shunting it aside for now.

"Curiosity and kin could make us do nothing less," the mech said, the response aimed at both foreign ambassadors, "this way, if you please." He turned half around, gesturing in a wide arc in front of him, down from the landing pads and, presumably, along the wide boulevard that led into the city.

Cliffjumper, when they started to walk, and starting to feel somewhat... hemmed in. Sure, maybe it was partly because the Ark's crew wasn't very large, and even adding the Decepticons to the mix didn't up the cybertronian population on Earth by a lot, and there was a mixed bunched in general.

Here, though, as he glanced around, he couldn't see a single mech approaching minibot size. The shortest ones were still several feet taller than he was.

Frowning, Cliffjumper kept from inching closer to Mirage - that, too, would be embarrassing, and looked around as they walked, half-listening to the description of the city they were getting.

"Of course, of course," he inclined his helm.

Mirage, while visibly keeping most of his focus on the discussion going on around them - and adding appropriately impressed commentary where needed - he had his senses focused in as many directions as possible. Keeping an optic on the Cons was a matter of course, with their surroundings a close second. Observing the state of their possible new ally, and watching for any unlikely possible attacks, would be well-worth the inevitable processor ache he was sure to get afterward.

While he didn't notice it in quite the same manner as a minibot, it didn't take Mirage long to notice that many of the Paradonians were taller than even he was.

"Your world is impressive, in both looks and scale. I almost feel dwarfed here," he laughed, glancing toward the ambassador.

Cliffjumper glanced to Mirage and rolled his optics. He was almost feeling dwarfed? What did he think Cliffjumper felt like?

"I noticed our average height is closer to that of your other faction," the ambassador said with a nod towards Thundercracker, who smiled thinly and clearly darkly amused. He, if not Mirage and Cliffjumper, fit right in size-wise, at least if one went by the average height; Thundercracker was still taller than the majority.

"I'm afraid I can't give an elucidating answer at the moment, but maybe the archives could have something." They were shown to repulsor-lift platforms with railing around the edges; open and simple to ride and could float above the general ground traffic for the sightseeing without slowing it down...

Or losing any of the newcomers.

"When we arrive, you'll be shown to your quarters. I imagine a bit of rest before we start with the more... involved greetings may be desirable," the mech said with a smile, and Cliffjumper quietly agreed even if he didn't want to agree.

Exactly. If even he was feeling unsettled, he didn't want to image how agitated the minibot might be getting. The last thing Mirage needed was a prickly Cliffjumper making a faux pas over the tiny details.

"How curious," Mirage commented lightly. "Perhaps a small curiosity to check over if we have the time. But yes, I quite agree - a small rest would be quite in order before we continue, thank you."

He gave a shallow bow in response.

Cliffjumper would insist it wasn't a tiny detail being boxed in by a crowd taller than him anywhere from half his height to his full height or more. Especially, he thought warily, since none of them would be used to moving around someone who was that much shorter than they were.

It made the rest of the short tour when they stepped off the transports in front of the gilded building at the end of the boulevard, spires twisting around themselves, arches and whatever else creating a delicate, intertwined whole, less enjoyable than it could have been.

Maybe he was just being paranoid, but Cliffjumper didn't like how close some of them got either way.

Thundercracker was shown a room first, and then they stopped in front of a second pair of doors and the ambassador bowed.

"If there is anything you require, don't hesitate to ask, and we shall do our best to provide," he, as well as the mech who'd led the delegation to the Autobot faction, smiled. Cliffjumper squirmed and was hard-pressed to stand still and not go into the room immediately.

Hopefully, the sheer novelty of having smaller mechs underfoot - and their infamy, being offworld ambassadors and all that - would keep the Paradronians more aware and careful than they would otherwise be. Mirage had already noticed a few small traffic jams around the perimeter of their touring area from curiosity alone.

"Of course. Your generosity is most appreciated," Mirage acknowledged with a gracious bow, encouraging Cliffjumper to mimic the motion with a gentle flick of his field.

"We will contact you when we are rested and refreshed, so we may continue at your leisure."

It took Cliffjumper half a moment to realise what Mirage meant with the nudge, but he finally caught on and tried to copy Mirage, hiding the roll of his optics as he did so.

It wasn't a very elegant bow, but there wasn't much to do about that. Cliffjumper had hardly been trained in it, and even so, the idea of bowing made him want to scowl and simply not do it.

He didn't at all like the idea of showing deference this way.

It was good enough to get them through the door at least.

Leading the way the moment it was appropriate, hand curling oh-so-gently around Cliffjumper's shoulder, Mirage carefully steared them inside. He didn't want to see just how prickly Cliffjumper could get about the bowing and protocol.

Then they were inside, and Mirage was scanning carefully for bugs as he slumped slightly against the back of the door.

"Goodness..."

He hadn't done that in a while.

Cliffjumper almost shook off Mirage's hand, though more because he almost blushed when it landed there than that he was being steered into the room. A little because of that too, yes, but mostly for the other reason.

At least he waited to growl until the door had closed behind them?

"I hope there ain't gonna be a lot of that happenin'," he snapped, stepping away from Mirage even if he did rather want to stay close; but the hand had dropped from his shoulder and there really wasn't any reason for him to want or need to stay close.

Mirage didn't bother to hide his sigh. Couldn't even rest for a minute...

"Which part? The bowing? I hate to break it to you, but that is probably going to be a common feature. It's a matter of politeness."

Pulling away from the door with a low grunt, Mirage moved to explore the apartment more thoroughly; the bug check came back negative, but he wouldn't be sure until he checked around.

He also wanted to 'check out' that opulent looking chaise lounge.

"I don't see how bowing is rustin' polite," Cliffjumper said as he stomped off, basically doing what Mirage intended as well. Though as the minibot went through the room, his incredulity slowly grew.

It wasn't just the size and spread of their suite, it was the opulence - and Cliffjumper had the feeling that he wasn't even seeing half of it, since the things he dismissed as 'thankfully normal' might actually be the most expensive bits and bobs in the suite.

It was an unsettling thought.

"'Cause I hate to tell ya, Mirage, most of us didn't have a choice when it came to being 'polite' and bowing before the war." Cliffjumper called from where he stood in the doorway to the washracks, shaking his helm.

Couldn't believe what he was looking at.

"Here, in this situation, it is a mark of respect and honor, not subservience," Mirage called back rather weakly. He didn't even bother to glance Cliffjumper's way; he was too busy turning wide optics to the rest of the living quarters. They were terribly opulent, as Cliffjumper noted, but Mirage's opinion of said fact was markedly different.

"...Oh."

Field going fluttery and jagged with emotion, he stumbled forward, falling face first onto the lounge.

"Great. Except that doesn't fraggin' helpt at all," Cliffjumper said as he wandered back in, having had to resist the urge to use those washracks - and feeling embarrassed about wanting to use them - and then stopped staring at Mirage laying faceplate first into the plush-looking couch.

At least he thought it was a couch. It was shaped slightly funnily, and maybe that meant it had a different name, it wouldn't surprise him if it did.

"... Mirage? Hey, you okay?" Had they managed to poison him? Was he just tired? What? Cliffjumper crossed the room and hovered beside the... couch, whatever, not sure if he should touch him or not.

"Mff."

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.

Arching an optic ridge incredulously, Cliffjumper scowled and crossed his arms.

"Yeah? You don't fraggin' seem okay to me," he snapped as he stared down at Mirage where he was sprawled out on the couch, long limbs stretched out and accomodated by the stuffing and cushions instead of being awkwardly too short or not broad enough.

Mirage looked like he belonged there, and Cliffjumper looked away, scowling at some etched piece of art on the wall and felt all the more awkward for it.

"Really. I'm...fine."

Mirage reluctantly rolled over, slowly settling into a languid sprawl on the cushions. Cliffjumper's worried hovering wasn't shattering the illusion quite yet, at least; being able to see the entire bright room let it linger on. He blinked dim optics in the minibot's general direction.

"Fine. Just...it's nice."

"Fine? Nice?" Cliffjumper sputtered and whirled back on Mirage, pointing at him, "what the slag is wrong with you, Mirage?"

He was, to be honest, worried. Would have been even if he actually didn't like the mech, if he had no... rusting infatuation. But he did, which didn't make anything better.

What could it be? Mirage seemed to have... wilted almost immediately after they got in here, so was it something in the room? But he was unaffected. What had Mirage touched that he hadn't?

Throwing a glare around the room, Cliffjumper swore quietly. He wasn't really made for stuff like this.

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