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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"I. Noticed." Mirage growled out, faceplates scrunching up in annoyed remembrance. His engine revved up in a low rumble.

"I don't know how many times he's done it. But the first time I found the washracks in that state had best be the last time, if Hound knows what is good for him. He can dirty himself as he pleases, but I draw the line at having to bathe in his grime."

Mirage's growl just had Cliffjumper laughing into his arms again. He agreed with Mirage, but it was still funny.

"Guess that's why that outside hose was installed," Cliffjumper said, voice partly muffled against his own arms and weaving slightly from residual laughter, "not that it ain't been useful for everyone else, too... At least we can wash off quick before gettin' inside."

It was a boon for when patrol or battle had ended up particularly muddy or grimy, which also made sure as little muck as possible got tracked around inside the Ark.

Mirage's growl melted into a pleased sound, and a surprised smirk flickered across his face

"A hose? Ah, so that's what they did. Good, I was starting to wonder what results Hound and the others would bring."

After all, it wasn't Mirage's fault that a good half dozen other terrified crew-members had been present when he'd laid into poor Hound, and had ended up nodding in the same panicked agreement as the muddy scout. In that case, he could see why Hound - or no one else - had approached him afterward.

His temper had been quite shameful that day.

Perhaps Hoist and Grapple had been swept up into his demands and had added the spigot themselves?

Looking up from his arms after a last few chortles, Cliffjumper tilted his helm. Thinking about it, he had no idea why that hose had been put up, or when. He'd only found out after a particularly miserable patrol when it'd been pointed out to him, before he was even allowed inside.

He'd been really cross before he realised why he was being waved away.

"What, you had somethin' to do with that?"

He could actually see Mirage... or Sunstreaker and maybe Tracks too, be responsible for yelling loudly enough about disgusting muck in the Ark. Mirage might be accepting of the mud when it was outside, it seemed like, but it was quite obvious he didn't like it when it was anywhere else.

"Perhaps."

Mirage shrugged, all languid confidence in his slump against the the wall.

"I might have been a bit harsh on poor Hound when I stepped in mud up to my wheels in the washracks that day."

He grinned widely, splaying his hands out in false innocence.

"If anyone else in the 'racks with him was intimidated with him and decided to take some initiative on their own...well. Good for them."

Watching Mirage splayed out up against the wall and the implied confidence displayed in the lines of his frame, Cliffjumper had to duck his helm and look away. Usually those sort of movements were hidden (at least to Cliffjumper) behind - or maybe overshadowed by - Mirage's uptight, precise noble etiquette.

Cliffjumper was sure some people found charm in that, but to him it was grating and annoying, but the funny thing was, Mirage displayed less of it than, say, Tracks. In some other cases the other scattered nobles Cliffjumper had seen through the war might have displayed the same level of stiffness, or less.

Mostly more, however.

Anyway, Cliffjumper knew when his annoyed acceptance that Mirage was attractive (and his disgust of himself at the same, a noble, really?) had slid down into something more and which had led to Cliffjumper ruthlessly trying to ignore it.

That one time he'd caught Mirage displaying something similar to this; a surprising ease of confidence and command. Not military command either. More like...

Optics narrowing, Cliffjumper pushed those thoughts away.

"Pretty good idea, if, ya know, you hypothetically were responsible for sparkin' the idea and all that."

"'Hypothetically', of course," Mirage agreed with a tip of his head.

"Perhaps someone will take claim for the new addition and we'll be able to narrow it down, but until then, I am simply satisfied with the results as they are. So long as it is actually used."

Still amused, Mirage still trailed off with a sigh, refocusing on the dark ceiling lights and the continuous lack of motion of the elevator.

And it was getting warm, the air stale and heating even from their idle systems. Thankfully, the time was almost up.

"I know I've used it more than once, at any rate, and I've seen a few others too," Cliffjumper said with a grin and a wave of his hand, shifting in his seat and trying to ignore the preliminary warning about raised temperatures.

Nowhere near dangerous or even a little questionable yet, but the longer they stayed in here... Of course there was ventilation, but an elevator wasn't made to contain several mechs for any length of time.

"Some water right now would be really fraggin' nice..." that was as close he'd get admitting it was getting warmer in here for now and the fact that water was good for cooling off, "kinda funny how used we've got to water by now, though."

"Agreed," Mirage remarked, contemplative gaze not falling away from the ceiling tiles. "Especially with a light crusting of ice- it makes a nice contrast on heated plating. It is certainly useful for many things, provided that you can avoid the rust."

He allowed himself a wistful expression only for a moment. Shifting in place, the spy finally stood up all at once with a heavy sigh, as though the pleasant thought was too much to contemplate.

"Well. I'm tired of waiting, and this heat is only going to aggravate my processor ache back into being. So. If you will excuse me."

And with that, Mirage hopped up into the thin side-railings of the elevator, bracing himself up into the corner with a hand on the door frame. The other hand was already reaching up for the sealed latches of the ceiling panels.

"Luckily we're pretty well protected," Cliffjumper mumbled in agreement and then looked up at Mirage, optics flickering, as the mech stood up and... somehow managed to fit his feet on those thin railings that ran around the elevator.

"How the flying frag are you doin' that?" Cliffjumper asked as he stood up, squinting at where Mirage's feet were positioned. It didn't look like there was enough space for something like that, even with Mirage's feet being angled.

At least the crack in the ceiling as the latches were undone and one panel was pushed out let cool air from the elevator shaft rush in. That made it all the more apparent how stifling it'd actually gotten in the elevator.

"Easily," Mirage says, smug and distracted; relieved to finally be doing something. The bolts from the panel fall freely down from the ceiling, clattering carelessly.

"It is all in the balance - and ankles."

The breeze from the elevator shaft is more than welcome, and carries echoes from the floors above and below. He drops the panel down as well, just past Cliffjumper's feet, before offering the minibot a hand with smirk just barely visible in the gold glow.

"Well. Here is your chance."

"Easy he says..." muttering, Cliffjumper snorted and shook his helm, crossing his arms over his chestplating, "like fraggin' scrap that's easy..."

He tilted his helm back as the trickle of fresh air strengthened into a breeze as the panel clattered down at his feet, quickly taking a step back as it fell down and was about to snap at Mirage but the noble got there before him.

So he stared.

Frowned, and shifted in place.

"Not sure this is a good idea. Can you even lift me?" Okay, it was really improbable Mirage couldn't lift him and Cliffjumper did take the offered hand.

It was just that Mirage was pretty slagging finely built, slender and relatively thin-armoured... Mirage's size and general probable strength would still imply he'd be perfectly capable of lifting Cliffjumper up.

"Of course it is. I'm limber and doing things like this is my job, so I get practice."

Mirage waved his hand flippantly, before clasping Cliffjumper's hand tightly.

"And yes, though I won't object if you jump at the same time."

Mirage winked, before stooping and tugging, heaving the minibot up with surprising strength, straight up toward the opening in the ceiling.

Edited 2014-06-20 07:30 (UTC)

"Yeah, I guess---hn!" He jumped, yes, but it was still somewhat surprising when Mirage yanked and the jump stretched out into a lift. He couldn't resist kicking his legs, and the lack of purchase made his spark surge out of the pulse and the reflexively grabbed the wrist of the hand holding his.

Then immediately let go when he could reach the edge of the ceiling and the opened panel into the shaft, pulling himself up and probably making more frustrated noises than what was absolutely necessary.

"Scrappin' slag..." Finally getting up on the ceiling, Cliffjumper resisted the urge to rub his arms and shift and whatever else to settle the staticky feeling and instead looked around.

It was darker in the shaft than the elevator had been, since there was more space and his headlights and Mirage's running lights couldn't reach very far. It was still enough to see the darker suggestions of the nearest floor's door, a fair bit up, the elevator's brakes and the smothering darkness far above.

He supposed it was interesting to see an elevator shaft from this end, and could possibly be useful at some point... maybe.

"So... uh, what now?" Cliffjumper looked to Mirage, then jerked as a humming sound rushed through the elevator shaft, echoing. He had his gun out before he thought about it. It might have been an interesting sound if it weren't that they were sitting in a dark elevator shaft with a breeze running through---

Below them, in the elevator, the light flickered on, and a thin trickle of light could be seen seeping through the doors of the floor above.

"... Great. I mean, that's good, but couldn't it have happened a bit sooner?" Cliffjumper said with a huff and pretended not to be embarrassed he'd pulled his gun out as he stuffed it back in subspace.

"Don't kick or grab me, grab the ledge-!"

Mirage snickered in between a huffed out grunt or two under Cliffjumper's weight. He couldn't really dodge while helping the minibot up, so he was relieved when the red mech managed a better hold. He stared up into the opening, waiting for Cliffjumper to get his bearings.

"Now you move and let me up-"

Mirage's started burst of static when the lights and power came back on was rather undignified, and he gave the elevator doors a glare.

"-Oh, of course. Red Alert, you're never going to be able to convince me you weren't watching or listening this entire time. That was far too well-timed." Mirage huffed out in the direction of the nearest speaker.

"Jump back down, Cliffjumper. I guess we'll be going out the mundane way after all."

Edited 2014-06-21 09:33 (UTC)

Muffling a snigger at the nosie Mirage let out, even if he hadn't had the most dignified reaction either, Cliffjumper grimaced and eyed the distance between ceiling and floor.

Great.

Well, nothing for it, and he was not going to ask Mirage to help him down. For several reasons. So with a scowl, Cliffjumper edged over the hole, keeping his hands on the edge of the open ceiling panel, and dropped down.

Hanging there in the air for a moment or so, slowly swinging as he dangled, Cliffjumper then let go and dropped to the floor with a thump.

"Well, that was an adventure."

Mirage sighed, disappointed in the well-timed end to the power outage.

He was almost looking forward to dragging the minibot through the elevator shafts with him. Might teach the mech some respect for his craft, after all.

"Well, since you're down there, hand me the panel and bolts, would you?"

Mirage reached down, not bothering to drop from his perch on the side-rails.

Mirage, you wouldn't have wanted to hear Cliffjumper whine about having to be dragged through the elevator shafts. Really. Not that he wouldn't have been capable of being quiet and at least try to be patient if it was a question of life and death necessity, however.

"Huh? Uh, sure." Picking the panel up first, he handed it over as he chased down the bolts, briefly considering asking Mirage if he'd changed his mind about training.

Then, in a sudden resurgence of frustrated anger and since Ratchet had come up with a... somewhat reasonable stopgap measure for now, he decided that he wouldn't. Mirage would probably just say no again, and he didn't like getting angry at Mirage (again) at the moment.

"Here," was the only thing Cliffjumper said when he stood back up, holding up a hand with the bolts gathered.

"Thank you," Mirage says politely, fitting the panel back into place and holding it until Cliffjumper brings over the bolts. He puts them back into place one at a time, screwing them in with deft fingers.

Oblivious to Cliffjumper's inner conflict, Mirage wraps up quickly, just in time for the elevator to ding. He jumps down neatly as the doors open on the medbay level, hall filled with welcome light.

"There we are. About time."

Giving the minibot a pleased nod, Mirage steps out of the hated elevator at last.

"If I ever get stuck in an elevator again for that long, I'm gonna find the mechs responsible and kick their afts. I don't care what the reason was," Cliffjumper said, grumbling as he followed Mirage out the elevator and had to stop from flexing his repaired hand or rub it.

Medbay.

He couldn't do that now.

"So definitely about time." He might have been crankier than what was warranted, but being stuck for half a joor in an elevator wasn't what Cliffjumper would call fun. Then there was the issue with his discomfort about heights.

... glancing up at Mirage, Cliffjumper quickly looked away and scowled as they passed the medbay doors. He didn't feel comfortable thanking Mirage for the distraction he'd provided - it'd probably not been intended anyway, even if he now knew of Cliffjumper's little... problem.

"I'm surprised you don't want to do it to them now," Mirage called back over his shoulder.

"I know I certainly do."

He almost laughed, but catching sight of Cliffjumper's scowl made his amusement die a little.

Stifling a sigh, Mirage strode through the medbay doors, lingering processor ache suddenly on the forefront of his mind again.

"Ratchet? Sorry I'm late - I'm sure you've noticed the 'complications' by now...?"

An irate looking Ratchet stuck his head out from behind a (smoking?!) curtain, soot staining his white plating up to his elbows.

"Obviously. Take a seat - you've been booted down the triage list."

Oh. It was the mech behind the curtain that was smoking, probably from getting fried in an electrical currant. Mirage winced and sat down obediently.

Seeing that there was no reason to call to Ratchet before the mech that was being repaired had, well, been so, Cliffjumper followed after Mirage mostly out of reflex and then stopped a few steps away.

... Right. What not?

Shifting on his feet, Cliffjumper rubbed the back of his helm and then, finally, snorted.

Do something.

"Sure as slag do I wanna do that now, but if I give more people injuries that Ratchet might have to treat, I'd probably be next," he said it loudly enough to be heard, grinning lopsidedly.

It wasn't like Ratchet was violent with either patients or fellow Autobots in general, but his attitude and temperament led to teasing quite often.

Mirage glanced down toward Cliffjumper after a moment, relieved to see that the minibot's mood seemed to have passed.

If they were going to end up waiting yet again, they might as well continue their tentative 'alliance'.

"True. We'd doubtlessly be kept waiting even longer if we interfered or added to the pile."

Mirage settled into his chair, resigning himself to the wait.

"...You suppose that is one of our outage-culprits there?"

"They'd probably have mercy on you dependin' on how delibitatin' your issues are... I'd probably get my prohibition to use the targeting range extended," Cliffjumper huffed, crossing his arms over his chestplates.

He knew all of the medics on the Ark would do that too - it'd happened before and when he'd tried going to one of the others to get around it, they'd checked the notation on his file and simply refused.

Glancing over to the curtained-off area when Mirage spoke, Cliffjumper narrowed his optics and then shrugged.

"Wouldn't surprise me. Unless something happened while the power was out... or when it came back."

In which case, the scientists responsible would probably get even more of a talking to.

"I doubt they would be as lenient as you fear," Mirage laughed, unsure how to take the comment. Did it sound like a claim of favoritism? He couldn't tell.

"Perhaps the attempts at repair were as damaging as the initial cause?"

Mirage glanced toward the curtain thoughtfully, pondering the still-smoldering frame not-entirely hidden behind it.

"Either way, it seems that the delay was - somewhat - justified, if that is the scale of the issue."

Sighing rather dramatically, the spy hunched down in his chair, preparing to dig down to wait for the long haul.

What a terrible day. Maybe he could flag down a junior-medic to deal with the pain quickly enough? He cast a glance around, searching for First Aid or Hoist.

The Start of Something Interesting...

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