lastonepercent (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lastonepercent) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
red_diode_district2013-11-10 05:39 pm
lastonepercent) wrote in red_diode_district2013-11-10 05:39 pm
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...
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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But deprived of shooting holes in physical or holographic dummies, Cliffjumper didn't feel like staying inside - it was a rather stunning day.
And if Bumblebee hadn't been foolish and gotten roped into helping cleaning up the rec room, he'd have asked him to go for a drive. As it was, if he'd have been spotted, he might have been roped into it as well, but he'd avoided detection.
Passing under the giant engine nozzle and out into the sunlight, Cliffjumper scowled a little as he looked around at the barren ground in front of the mostly-buried Ark, then the trees swaying in a gentle wind in the early Oregon summer.
Letting out the ex-vent he'd been holding, Cliffjumper started to pick his way around the side of the Ark, and beyond that, along the base of the peak the Ark was buried in. He supposed he could take a look at what Earth actually looked like on foot, like Hound always harped on them all to do.
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So it wasn't until two weeks later Cliffjumper was walking (okay, slooowlyyyy and dragging his feet about it) to where he'd been told to go, thoroughly uncomfortable.
Partly because he had no idea what Mirage intended, and he hated not knowing, especially as he didn't really trust Mirage - or Tracks either for that matter - to not come up with something humiliating. He was... uhm. Attracted to Mirage, yes, but that didn't mean he was stupid; the noble could be quite vicious when he wasn't aloof and standoffish, though Bumblebee had nuanced that picture, which was why, besides the physial attraction, the crush probably lingered.
But yeah, not stupid, and he'd had to spend the last two weeks with people needling him over his multiple missteps - or trying to badger him into telling them what Tracks and Mirage had been doing. How people had found out he didn't know, but he'd stayed stubbornly quiet about it. He'd also had to spend the time mostly with Bumblebee when it turned out nearly everybody of even his usual friends were being... insufferable.
Bumblebee, while he'd not let Cliffjumper get away from the fact that he'd acted stupidly in part, was at least more understanding.
Cliffjumper also found himself uncomfortable because after what had been said, he'd gone and done some research into that "pain could sometimes be pleasant" thing. Sure, most of it had by necessity have to come from human sources, but the theory was the same as he'd been able to piece together, so it was close enough to be helpful.
And close enough to let the minibot come to the conclusion that he didn't understand it at all, and got sort of... upset, at the thought of pain being caused deliberately like that, even if everybody participating supposedly enjoyed it.
It didn't seem safe, and it didn't seem right, but besides that, it just caused a viceral reaction in some deeper programming that just had Cliffjumper upset at the idea in general. And that was sort of annoying, but---
Pushing the thought away as he'd gotten there, Cliffjumper crossed his arms over his chestplates and straightened his back. He could do this.
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He kind of did want to know, but at the same time, from what it had sounded like from Mirage and Tracks, that was supposed to happen? Something told him that wasn't exactly right, though.
At the same time, if that wasn't what was supposed to happen and he'd done something, or experienced it differently, did he actually want to call fragging attention to that?
Those were Cliffjumper's thoughts as he sat at the padded benches in the back of the rec. room, having been reminded of it by the cube of energon in his hands. It made him grumpy, because he just couldn't decide what we wanted to do about it, to approach Mirage or not?
He didn't want to be laughed at if he couldn't explain, again, and anyway, the first few days he'd mostly avoided the mech because just catching a glimpse of him made him think of Mirage's comment about the afterglow being ruined and...
Well, he wasn't fragging dead so his imagination took over, and he couldn't have a normal conversation like that.
Stupid, fragging, annoying crush and his own flusteredness over slag like that.
Cliffjumper was by now glaring into the cube fit to make it explode by the friction of his glare alone.
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Okay, that might not be entirely fair; Cliffjumper was aware what belief and faith did for some people, how necessary it was, and for Mirage it was - or had been - part of his function.
That didn't mean he wasn't utterly, completely, frustrated. Cliffjumper didn't have much of patience in the best of circumstances and now, considering he apparently could go nowhere else for help...
Maybe he should go to Ratchet - Prime as a possibility didn't come up at all, even if he might know something. It just wasn't an angle he thought of - even if he'd rather try to just ignore this slag because what was the chance of him ending up in contact with something like the ritual again?
In the end, though, Cliffjumper reluctantly trotted over to the medbay the next day after his patrol, quietly hoping Ratchet wasn't there for whatever reason.
If he wasn't he could just put it off and then continue to ignore it.
Sorry no Ratchet account for youuu
I shall surviveeeee somehow
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It didn't matter much, though, Cliffjumper thought as he crouched by the opening waiting for his turn while Trailbreaker had ducked aside from the doorway to gather himself for a moment, since they did have Trailbreaker.
It meant that, while cover fire was kept up to keep the 'Cons engaged, Trailbreaker stepped forward periodically to let the the next batch a chance to charge into battle with a momentary protection against Decepticon lasers.
Squinting carefully around the frame at the experimental energy-research building a short distance away, Cliffjumper snorted and shook his helm.
The 'Cons could build weapons and whatever else for their resources, but they didn't bother to build enough generators and converters for reneweable sources of energy why?
"Group three, you're next!" Jazz called out and then dashed out along with Cliffjumper, Wincharger and Bluestreak, and Cliffjumper concentrated on working himself to the position he should at least start at,
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Draining the last bit of energon from the tiny spare cube he sometimes filled, Cliffjumper put it away in subspace and got into the elevator. He gave in to the urge to rub his repaired hand again, squeezing the metal to push against tickling or aching sensor nodes and told himself this would be the last one until he got out of the medbay.
If any medic caught him still worrying the repaired hand, there was no way they'd let him stress it with firing guns.
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Intelligence - this time brought in via atmospheric recon by Cosmos - showed suspicious Decepticon activity over the Northern pole of the planet. The Autobot fliers were few and far between, leaving the rest of the attack forces to travel via regular shuttlecraft. A poor way to travel, but the best way to get the numbers the needed for a proper assault.
Their surprise attack, however, turned out to be anything but.
The actual, sparked fliers were able to dodge the strafing run by the Seekers flying out of the sunlight, but the shuttle was too slow.
::We've been hit! Prepare for evasive maneuvers!:: The captain screeched, the shuttle bucking wildly as the frame groaned with the stress. Despite his flight harness, Mirage felt himself get tossed from his seat. The wall mounting hold his harness in place was gone, as was the wall behind it. Icy cold air was pouring in, filling the cabin with a roar; supplies and mechs, similiarly freed by the tear in the ship, flew wildly past Mirage's head.
::Hang on to something!:: Someone yelled, pointlessly.
There was nothing to hang on to.
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But as the days passed, Cliffjumper (and quite a few others) got more and more twitchy, since why weren't the Decepticons doing anything?!
The first reports of a strange, but clearly cybertronian ship being noted as having spacebridged into the solar system on the dark side of the moon got everybody on high alert, and Cliffjumper had hissed to Bumblebee that he knew it...
And then a shuttle had approached their crashsite in full view and formally requesting landing permission. Considering the fact that another shuttle had been noted to fly off towards the Nemesis' crash site in the Atlantic, Cliffjumper was of the opinion it was incredibly fragging dumb to trust whoever they were.
It must be a trap!
Decepticon spies, whatever!
The mechs - because they were Cybertronians, that stepped out of the shuttle and were welcomed by Prime and the command looked... odd, Cliffjumper thought where he stood with Bumblebee, Beachcomber and Windcharger among the others gathered for the landing - both from curiosity and readiness to fight if necessary.
It took a moment to realise that it was because they looked... soft.
Unworn.
They hadn't spent however long in battle, that was it, and it grated for some reason he couldn't put his finger on.
"This is a trap," Cliffjumper muttered as he and the others wandered off to get some energon while the strange cybertronians retreated with Prime and command elsewhere.
Bee just rolled his optics and patted his shoulder.
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This was awful.
---
Cliffjumper spent most of the coming week split between taking out his frustrations on targets at the range or through racing around the Ark with Bee when he could - or alone - and reading the stupid datapads Jazz and Mirage had given him.
He'd probably mess up at least the wording of even the simplest of the prayers if he had to participate, so he tried to focus on the positioning and similar physical things.
Not just because he was better at remembering stuff like that, but also because if nothing else he'd only be asked to participate, not lead, so if he just moved his mouth without saying anything and did the rest right, no one would notice.
... He hoped.
But those prayers and blessings were hardly the worst of the whole thing. There was just no way he was going to remember all the holiday ceremonies and services and what was done and anything.
Just. No way.
He tried to memorise it, if for no other reason that messing up too badly might be dangerous especially as they'd be on an alien planet, but it all ran together in his processor.
When the day for leaving came, Cliffjumper didn't feel ready at all.
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Sitting in the passenger lounge, Cliffjumper was facing one of the large viewports, which, for the moment anyway, was giving an excellent view of Paradron.
The planet was much smaller than Cybertron, but at least three times as large as Earth, and had a strangely green look beneath the swathe of clouds, kind of like verdigris.
Six moons hung like a necklace around Paradron as well.
"There's a large amount of copper-rich rock in Paradron's crust, which turns most of the mountains and any bare rock on the ground green... and the sand as well," the ambassador said, smiling a little, "the equators are rather unpleasant and have wide stretched deserts; most of the population live north and south of the tropics."
Scrunching up his nose a little at the thought of deserts, Cliffjumper thought it didn't sound too bad besides that. Reluctantly but yet impossible not to, he glanced up at Mirage.
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At least part of it; reluctantly thinking it over while locked away made him realise that he probably hadn't been completely obvious. That he found Mirage attractive, that'd probably slipped, which was bad enough.
Either way, they were now supposed to spend some hours of the night on some sort of... Cliffjumper didn't even have a word for this, but he did not like it.
"Do we really fragging have to do this?" Cliffjumper asked as he walked into the main room of their suite, aware he was rather whining and unable to care.
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Mostly from this whole... thing. There'd been another, longer, tour of the city yesterday, then another banquet or whatever, though this time in someone's actual home instead of the same building they were staying in.
Mirage was glowing, and Cliffjumper wasn't sure if he meant that literally or metaphorically. Maybe both worked. Either way, the noble was clearly both enjoying himself and knowing exactly what to do, barring the differences another planet and culture made.
It was obvious Mirage was used to this, and Cliffjumper couldn't exactly begrudge him. Still didn't mean it didn't leave him feeling out of sorts and like he had to watch every slagging step.
It was exhausting and driving him spare and leaving him to notice every little motion Mirage did lately.
So, thankfully, he'd been able to escape for an unscheduled and unguarded trip around the city. Of course, people could still tell who he was because literally no one was his size, but everybody left him alone and that was all Cliffjumper cared about as he went looking.
It was risky, yes, but he reasoned that, since he and Mirage were supposed to be bonded, it should be fine... slip in under the cover of 'supposedly a couple'. Now just to find something...
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