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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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.

"...True. That sounds like an excellent suggestion, Cliffjumper." Mirage chuckled, appraising optics turning to cast yellow light on plating in the dark.

"Even so, I will give it that half a joor."

Mirage nodded resolutely, helm falling back against the side of the elevator with a muffled clunk.

"After that, you might get to see what elevator-shaft-climbing is like in person.

"They'd probably be really fraggin' offended too." Ducking his helm, Cliffjumper hoped his snort and smirk distracted from the slight flare of his optics. This was a terrible situation, and not just because he felt uncomfortable - and foolish, because he'd never had issues with elevators before, but then, he hadn't been stuck in an unmoving one before either - but because of this.

The talk in the washracks hadn't been particularly relaxed, even if it had been a chance to just talk to the mech... This, though, was simply radically different. No pressure, no direct annoyance or antagonism between them. He was seeing far more of Mirage than he ever had, and Cliffjumper was starting to wish he hadn't, because like slag did he need more reasons to like an impossible crush.

... Not that he was regretting this, however, since even if nothing ever happened, it was kind of nice to get to know Mirage a bit better.

"I can hardly wait," Cliffjumper said sarcastically. Not that he didn't want to be out of here, but climbing an elevator shaft wasn't something he particularly wanted to do.

Then he shifted again and glanced at the floor, because then again, the elevator shaft and being moving might be preferable to this.

"Too bad for them," Mirage said waspishly, turning up his nose with a sniff. "They should have thought of that before they blew the breakers for this whole section of the ship, or whatever they did."

Well, their conversation had still turned into grumbling, but it was grumbling with one another against someone else.

Still much improved.

"But you still have to wait," Mirage sighed unhappily at the idea.

"They've still got some time left to fix it. I'm sure you'll manage it fine, if we must."

"Seriously." With a huff, Cliffjumper slid further down against the wall just to keep himself from standing up and starting to pace again because he probably would.

"If we weren't stuck in a fraggin' elevator I wouldn't mind so much," he said with a growl, dropped his blaster in his lap and crossed his arms over his shoulders.

Half a joor was way too long, and it didn't matter that he knew the elevator wouldn't fall - that didn't really help at all.

Mirage nodded and allowed the conversation to fall silent for several long moments, but the silence was a bit much almost immediately. Conversation was the best way to pass the time, and his own natural curiosity wouldn't allow the chance to pass him by so easily.

"...does it really bother you that much?"

Mirage asked hesitantly, glancing over across the dark toward the twin points of blue light. He was careful to keep the question neutral - they were in a sealed tin can after all, and the resuscitation of their previous attitude toward one another would be quite unfortunate.

In those moments of silence, Cliffjumper had loosened up, started fingering his gun and then slowly started to pick it apart. They had around half a joor, at least, stuck here, and he was pretty sure the stress he'd put on his still-repairing hand wouldn't be too much strain for him not to be able to fake in front of the medics.

Hopefully, anyway.

"Uh---" Freezing over his gun, Cliffjumper grimaced and didn't look up from it. "It ain't claustrophobia, so I suppose it could be worse," Cliffjumper said with a growl, frustrated at himself... but unable not to feel uncomfortable.

At least the floor wasn't see-through or anything like that.

"I'm certainly glad it is not claustrophobia, though I imagine we might have been forced to deal with the fallout much sooner if it were."

Mirage made a wry chuckle, though he didn't stop giving Cliffjumper a searching look.

"I suppose it is the highly unlikely chance that we could fall, as you brought up the breaks earlier?"

Edited 2014-06-12 20:25 (UTC)

"Probably," he tried to sound flippant about it, but feeling Mirage's optics on him didn't really help with that.

Mirage's question didn't either, and there was no way to hide that twitch - even in the gloom of headlights-lit elevator it wouldn't have been impossible to pick up on. Growling, engine rumbling along, Cliffjumper tapped his gun against a knee.

It still took a good few long moments before he said anything.

"... yeah. Off the ground and slag."

Mirage's gold optics bobbed in the dark as he nodded. That explained a few things, and he could sympathize, even if he did not share the phobia.

"There is hardly any shame in that. I'm not Sideswipe, after all - I won't be teasing you about it.

Without concious thought, he reached out, giving the nearest portion of Cliffjumper - a folded knee spur - a consoling pat.

"A much more acceptable worry that 'human cooties' or 'rodent infestations', after all!"

Really. The number of things some of the mechs on Earth had begun to fuss over after arriving...

At the mention of Sideswipe, Cliffjumper snorted - it was, however, a relief that this was Mirage and not Sideswipe. And Red Alert, if he was listening or picked up on it later, wouldn't say anything.

"That's somethin' to be glad for..." Huffing, Cliffjumper couldn't suppress the brightening of his optics at the pat - or the immediate spike in sensitivity of the sensor nodes there, even if the pat was short.

Fragging embarrassing.

"At least even humans are afraid of human cooties!" He was surprised to find himself laughing, but... it was a far better option than anything else.

"I should hope so!"

Mirage chuckled at Cliffjumper's reaction, internally pleased and smug that he had at least temporarily managed to distract the minibot from his fear.

"Yes, and human 'cooties' are for humans, not Cybertronians. Really. The Autobots on this ship should know better than to fling wild rumors and fearmongering around." Mirage waved a hand, optics rolling.

He couldn't help but snicker, ducking his helm.

"Yeah, at least the germs and scrap. But all the fraggin' stuff that can stick to ya ain't pleasant." He didn't have any fear of it, but it was pretty disgusting and after landing on Earth he'd become a far more regular user of the washracks than before.

Usually he just kept to daily maintenace and whatever else, but here? That sometimes left him feeling as if there was slag still sticking to him, especially after having been on a drive, patrol, battle...

It was annoying was what it was, though presumably he'd be more used to it if they'd fought on more planets before this...

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