red_diode_district | The Start of Something Interesting...

Snorting at the agreement, Cliffjumper nodded and looked at the floor. He caught Mirage's movement out of the edge of his vision and smothered a smirk, more sympathetic than he'd be if it had been, say, Sunstreaker or Tracks, but mostly amused.

Vain mechs.

"Promise you're still pretty, ya know---" The words disappeared into the flat silence of a vocaliser yanked into neutral.

WHAT THE FRAG DID HE JUST SAY?

Oh, he'd meant it to be teasing, just light ribbing that would mean absolutely nothing, but Cliffjumper had no idea if that was how it'd come across, especially as he... did mean it sincerely and he wasn't a good liar.

Gritting his teeth, he stared at the floor, hoped the dim light hadn't revealed the flickering flare of his optics too much and that Mirage hadn't picked up on the probably not-so-hidden sincerity, or if he had that he'd disregard it.

Miss it because it was too there, because it was too improbable.

Since that's what it was, right.

"...ah?"

Mirage's hand froze over the healing scar, golden optics flicking over to the suddenly hunched minibot.

If it hadn't been for the sudden halt in Cliffjumper's words - and of course, the body language that followed - Mirage would have been readily able to shrug it off as a joke.

He leaned toward it being a joke; a sarcastic barb, thrown his way. But it was his job to notice such discrepancies. He couldn't not see it.

But.

"...Thank you?" He managed, optics still rather wide.

At least, despite earning the minibot's disdain long ago, he still had good taste.

Primus fragging scrap.

Cliffjumper wasn't sure if that response was better or worse than he'd imagined, and if he could just behave somewhat normally now, it'd be okay. After a fashion, but okay insofar as Mirage probably wouldn't put any weight to the statement.

Other than what he'd literally said, that was.

"Gghh---Uh, yeah. Sure. You're... welcome." Scrubbing a hand down his faceplate, Cliffjumper had no idea how that would be interpreted and felt tension crawl through him.

Unable to sit still, he jumped up and started to pace the elevator. It gave him something other than Mirage and his stupid slip to think about - even if it hadn't technically been a bad slip, but frag it all - and also do.

Unfortunately it also made him more aware of the fact that the floor at the moment would be above a lot of empty air.

He kept pacing, his headlights throwing mad lances of light and darkness in the narrow space.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Mirage continued to stare for a moment before shaking himself out of the shock.

Hardly a proper way to handle a compliment, unexpected or not! Even from an unlikely source.

He glanced away for several moments, allowing Cliffjumper time to recover from his obvious embarrassment, and to think.

Unfortunately, the pacing was more of a distraction than he anticipated.

Mirage winced at the constant moving and flickering of Cliffjumper's headlights. The constant adjustments it was forcing on his optics, while normally not worth noticing, was driving his headache intensity up in increments.

"...Must you pace like that? There really isn't much room for it, is there?"

"What the frag does it---" Whirling around as he met the wall again, Cliffjumper snapped and then cut himself off, catching the pained tension in Mirage's expression and stilled.

"... Suppose not."

Engine grumbling along with the annoyed mutter from the mini, Cliffjumper hesitated before he stomped across the elevator one more time and then sunk back down in his previous spot. He still felt really, fragging embarrassed at having slipped up, but he couldn't really sit on the other side of the elevator and not give Mirage a faceful of bright light from his headlights, so sitting beside him it was.

Besides, Mirage had... it appeared, only picked up on the sincerity in relation to the compliment, not the underlying reason for the sincerity. That... worked. That was good and he didn't need to feel embarrassed anymore.

Because really, anyone who couldn't tell Mirage was stunning was just dead. He could even admit Sunstreaker and Tracks were attractive, but he wouldn't compliment them on that.

"Just too little fraggin' space in here." Which wasn't the real issue with this elevator, but the longer they were in here, the more aware he got of the fact that they were hanging suspended in the elevator shaft.

"Thank you," Mirage murmured sincerely, optics gone dim as the light stabilized again. His hedache stopped building, but it didn't retreat as quickly as it had grown.

He withheld a groan at Cliffjumper's words - he really, really hoped the minibot didn't devolve into a full-blown claustrophobia.

"I'd offer to go invisible to make it seem like there was more room at least, but unfortunately, I have yet to regain full use."

Looking up at Mirage at that, Cliffjumper stared for a moment and then smothered the half-laughter in a snort, rolling his optics. At least that made his embarrassment from his slip evaporate all the faster, so as long as nothing else similar to that happened, he'd be okay.

"You'd still be in here, wouldn't ya? So invisible or not that ain't gonna make it easier to pace." Glancing away and letting his engine rumble, Cliffjumper scowled. "Would be somethin' to do at least..."

Because there really wasn't much of anything to do in here, and he had no idea how to hold a conversation with Mirage of all mechs, even disregarding all the stupid, embarrassing slag that had happened between them up until now or the fact that he had a stupid and utterly foolish crush on the noble.

And if he started talking despite all those things, he might have another slip... or accidentally reveal what was actually bothering him with the elevator. Claustrophobia? Hardly.

To distract himself, he pulled out a mesh cloth and his glass gas gun, going over it with the cloth. He'd take out the new blasted he'd been requisitioned and pull it apart and then back together again, but that might make it harder to convince the medics his hand was fine if he stressed it too much...

"... They musta hit ya hard for the mod to still be out."

"Ha. You would be surprised how quickly people forget something they cannot see."

His lips twitched with the weak laugh, before making a face at the blunt reminder. Hard hit indeed. Mirage nodded reluctantly none the less.

"Hm. You could say that."

He shifted in place, posture be damned as he slowly slid down the wall to join Cliffjumper on the floor.

"Ratchet has been...slogging his way through the mess left behind. Hence the..."

He waved a hand vaguely up toward his optics, which had gone dim and unfocused despite the lack of light in the elevator thanks to the pain.

"Even if that's true, would be quickly reminded if I tripped on... uh, ya." Well, that wasn't an image he needed in his processor. Like, at all. Shaking his helm sharply and reining in his EM field for a brief moment to forestall any telling wavering if he blushed, Cliffjumper glanced up at Mirage as he slid down to actually sit.

That was... well, surprising. Not because he never saw Mirage sitting down (he did, a lot. The rec room was there after all), but never on the floor like this. Mirage looked... surprisingly relaxed. Though there was probably some tension from the stupid noble feeling guilty over sitting on the floor like some common mech.

He had to suppress a grin at that, but it wasn't hard at Mirage's words and he frowned.

"Is this usual or somethin'?" Waving his hand loosely in the air at Mirage, Cliffjumper grimaced. "The... uh... effort they do or whatever?" He wasn't sure how to articulate what he meant, but whatever Soundwave had done seemed to be... very tailored to Mirage, whether or not they'd known the mech would be there, and Skywarp had been aiming specifically for Mirage too.

"Then you shouldn't be pacing in an elevator in the first place. Much too small for that sort of thing."

Mirage snorted at the mental image Cliffjumper provided, shaking his head. He carefully ignored the reaction to him taking a seat on the floor - he wasn't so stuffy that he wouldn't sit when there were not other options, after all!

"Unusual result, for them," Mirage eventually commented with a shrug. He had only a brief internal debate on what to tell Cliffjumper; it wasn't like his status as a spy didn't make him an obvious target, after all.

"But no. The effort is not unexpected." But it was more than usual. Which had Mirage frowning with worry. The Cons were stepping up their efforts to catch him.

"I've got shorter legs than you, so there's just about enough space in here," Cliffjumper said, and even with the seriousness regarding Mirage's situation, Cliffjumper smirked briefly.

"Uh-huh. Suppose so..." trailing off, Cliffjumper bent over his gun to pay more attention to what he was doing, but it didn't take long before he frowned. Sure, it made sense for them to try and catch the spies and spec-ops among the Autobots that were on Earth, but...

"... whatever Soundwave did targeted your mod, right? Doesn't that mean they knew you were the one who'd be infiltratin'? Not like Jazz, who was actually there, or Bumblebee. Or the cassettes, even." Putting the blaster down in his lap, Cliffjumper straightened up and frowned up at Mirage as he spoke.

Maybe Soundwave could create a versatile enough virus, sure, but still. Mirage's mod was more than something just channeled through a power chip rectifier and would need to be hit by a lot of things, and if someone else had been going in to the facility, most of that would be obsolete.

"..."

Mirage sighed, shifting in his seat to rest his helm more comfortably against the wall. This was hedging closely toward classified and 'might-as-well-be-classified' territory, but given the conversation, it was still stuff Cliffjumper could guess on his own.

Which meant it was far too obvious for Mirage's peace of mind.

"Entirely possible. It...hasn't been ruled out."

It was the best he could admit to, at the moment.

"And you may be short, but even you're not short enough to pace comfortably in this little tin can," Mirage quiped, hoping to distract Cliffjumper from further questioning.

Hasn't been 'ruled out'? What the frag was that for sorta phrasing, anyway? And beyond that... that was kinda problematic anyway? If they were, why was Mirage still doing missions? Optics narrowing, Cliffjumper engaged his vocaliser... and then huffed.

"Hey, I'll have ya know this thing's just large enough... it ain't actually that small," Cliffjumper said with a smirk and a shake of his helm. Then he glanced up towards the cieling frowning.

It did make him wonder how good those brakes were. The floor was obviously thick enough to hold for an average of three mechs on the tall side, and the mechanics would be strong enough...

But with a power failure and no emergency power either, all that was holding those brake mechanisms was the fact that they locked down in case of a power failure. But for how long?

There was a lot of air between the elevator and the bottom of the shaft...

"Just hope it's strong enough..." Frown deepening, Cliffjumper shrugged, gripping his blaster more firmly.

At least he'd been distracted from poking at what he shouldn't?

"If you say so. I generally prefer my rooms with a bit more length to deal with intense pacing sessions."

Mirage managed a smirk, openly teasing...and quietly glad for the subject change.

"'Strong enough'?" He asked, glancing around at the elevator itself.

"You mean the break locks? Those will be fine - they are perfectly designed to keep their hold sans-power." Mirage waved a hand, projecting confidence.

"It is actually their default setting. It takes power to keep them unlatched while the elevator is running."

He would know. Spending time in elevator shafts is practically required at some point in a spy's career.

Despite feeling uncomfortable, Cliffjumper snorted and rolled his optics.

"Yeah, sure, if the point's bein' all dramatic about it. I just need to move." To distract him from their very suspended position, to keep him from being too obvious looking at Mirage, from hopefully not saying anything incriminating.

A lot of things, really.

"They are?" Looking up from literally glaring at the blaster in his lap, Cliffjumper cocked his helm. "Huh. Didn't know that. That's good, I suppose." But it didn't do anything for the fact that there was still a lot of space between them and the bottom, even if they were - supposedly - safe in here, and he couldn't actually see it given the floor was in the way.

"... How do you know that?"

Was this a spec ops thing? Because why would a noble and a priest need to know that? Or even have the chance to know that?

"I'm hardly dramatic." Mirage sniffed.

"I just have longer legs. And do you think the Prime would have less than the most sound, sane technologies in his ship?" Mirage asked with a grin. That grin because somewhat sharkticon-like at Cliffjumper's final question.

"And I know that because...well. It is a part of my extensive skill-set."

At that, Cliffjumper just snorted and couldn't quite hide his grin. Mirage, from his point of view, might not think so, but most nobles (and the fact that Mirage was a priest added onto it) seemed pretty slagging dramatic to those from other classes.

"Yeah, like I said; I'm short enough this works to pace in," Cliffjumper said with a grin and then looked away and squirmed. Partly because of the reminder of elevator and partly because... well.

Frag, Mirage was surprisingly hot with that sharp grin and Cliffjumper wasn't sure what he thought about that. Something in that almost predatory sharpness made something flicker and charge rise up.

"... What, you hang out in elevators often in your line of work?" Partly joking, partly incredulous as Cliffjumper decided he could look back and face Mirage without blushing or scowling because of his own reaction.

"Your choice of pacing methods leaves something to be desired, I'm afraid."

Laughing, the noble let his head roll against the side of the elevator, pose gone decidedly lazy with amusement and the lingering effects of his headache. His sudden exhaustion was part of the reason he decided to answer truthfully.

"Occasionally," Mirage admitted, smirk widening.

"As you might imagine, elevator shafts are a fairly common local for those in my line of work."

"You're only 'cause it's dark in here." Huffing and glancing away again at Mirage's laughter, Cliffjumper ended up laughing himself at the image of Mirage lurking in elevator shafts or taking a lift on top of an elevator.

It was... impressive, and he could well imagine it wasn't safe, at all, but the first thing that popped up in his processor was all that space you might fall into.

"Really enough space in there to hang out and not get crushed by the elevators?" He could see Bumblebee maybe, but Mirage, however slender, was of average height and took up more space than your average minibot...

"I hardly have a problem with the dark, as you should imagine," he chuckled, golden optics brightening briefly.

"And if you know what you're doing, of course there is."

Mirage grinned, glancing up toward the roof of the elevator.

"I could probably do it right now, but it would involve breaking a number of locks, wires, and sending Red Alert into conniptions when he finds out I've been up there, so..."

"Red gets fraggin' conniptions nearly twice a week!" Shaking his helm, Cliffjumper tilted his helm back to squint up at the shadowed ceiling of the elevator. "Though doing that now means someone's gotta repair it later... At least there'd be the elevator to fall on if somethin' happened, I suppose."

He snapped his vocaliser off at that briefly before letting it turn back on again. It was doubtful Mirage would notice, or understand what it was for and that was perfectly fine with him because he didn't really want anyone to know about his issue about not having his feet on stable ground.

It wasn't even about heights, it was just... anything that led to being in the air with - a lot or not - air between him and the ground that was deeply unsettling.

Squirming, Cliffjumper scowled.

"Teletraan, how long until repairs are done?"

He actually really hoped Mirage's guess would be more correct than his---

"Up to half a joor as of current calculations. Apologies."

Grimacing, Cliffjumper huffed and glared at the floor.

"Thanks."

The freaky thing was that he couldn't tell if the apology was for the time they would spend trapped in the elevator, for the negative reply at all or because Teletraan somehow knew.

... Which it might. It might not be a sparked intelligence and definitely not a metrotitan, but it was a very advanced A.I with full connections to the Ark, and the only one who otherwise knew of Cliffjumper's little issue was Bumblebee... and he'd told him in the Ark.

Mirage snorted with surprised laughter at poor Red Alert's expense, head rolling back against the wall of the elevator.

"Entirely too true, I must admit!"

He shook his head at Teletraan's estimate, oblivious to Cliffjumper's source of concern.

"And really, there are rules against compromising the integrity of the ship...not that it stops the scientists, as we've well seen." He waved a hand around them and their current situation, golden optics rolling.

Despite feeling uncomfortable, Cliffjumper grinned at Mirage's snort - that, too, wasn't something he'd expect to hear from Mirage, but there wasn't any surprise this time, just amusement.

"Good at his job, but that ain't changin' the fact he spazzes out a lot..." trailing off, Cliffjumper huffed even as he shifted around, changing position a few times in an attempt at lightening his tension, "not like it ever stops them, 'cause apparently they can flout the rules as much as they want to."

It was a bit annoying, even if they were extremely useful.

Edited 2014-06-08 17:28 (UTC)

"Indeed. No reason to follow the Science Team's poor example and give him additional glitches, if we can help it."

Mirage glances up at the ceiling, face slowly falling into a scowl toward the audio/video hookup in the upper corner. He slowly raises a finger, pointing up at it directly.

"But if we're stuck here past the estimated timeframe, all bets are off."

Grimacing at that, Cliffjumper wasn't sure he agreed. Had they been stuck more or less anywhere else, he would have. Really. He could be patient and he did have some things to occupy his hands with.

At present, hanging over a nothing (or a 'something' that was very far below them) even if the brakes on the elevator were keeping them securely still, Cliffjumper did not feel patient.

"Dunno, could make 'em repair it," Cliffjumper muttered and fingered his blaster, starting to feel frustrated as well as displeased. He shouldn't have asked how long it was until repairs were finished, though Mirage might just have done it at some point anyway.

Right now it felt like his plating was flush with static electricity.

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