The Start of Something Interesting...

[lastonepercent]

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...

Comments

[cliffjumper]

"On purpose--?" That just didn't make sense, though well, it could be on purpose by Tracks to keep Mirage pliable, which he was.

Well, besides the fact that he was annoyingly stubborn and using his loose-limb, heavy weight to stay where he was. Cliffjumper could yank him off and forward, but then Tracks was up on his feet again, and Cliffjumper had the time to whirl around and duck before they both went clattering to the floor.

"I'm sure you have, you rusty fragger! You're the one who got your sick fun interrupted!" Cliffjumper yelled, curling up to minimise what Tracks could easily punch even as he kicked out, aiming for a kneejoint.

Slag it all, he'd wanted to be out of here before Tracks got up again, with how out of it Mirage was but maybe he should've aimed for kicking Tracks out instead of trying to pull Mirage out of the room.

[lastonepercent]

"My purpose-!" Mirage barked, only to be cut off by Tracks and Cliffjumper crashing to the ground in their tussling. At least it allowed him to jerk out of Cliffjumper's now-distracted hold, scuttling back across the floor to avoid flailing limbs.

Tracks roared as he was hit, but gave as good as he got, piling down on the smaller mech with a elbow.

"Argh! I cannot believe how moronic you are!" The winged mech yelled, tumbling down on top of the minibot when his injured knee gave out - not that he seemed to care, it only made it easier to attempt to pummel red armor...only for him to jerk at an even louder roar.

"QUIET, BOTH OF YOU!"

Standing shakily on his own feet, Mirage glared down at the mechpile, fury radiating off him in waves.

[cliffjumper]

The noise Cliffjumper made as Tracks' elbow hit right at the edge of the windshield covering his lower torso and the metal covering the upper was mostly hidden underneath the sound of cracking armourglass.

And maybe kicking one of Tracks' knees out from under him had been a bad idea - the mech weighed. But Cliffjumper ignored that in favour of simply trying to hit back.

"At least I ain't---"

Mirage's roar - and the opressive flare of his field, the rage easily projected by his stance even if Cliffjumper couldn't see much else than Tracks' frame - stopped the angry, flailing hits with a jerk.

It was that, more than Tracks' outrage, that pointed Cliffjumper's processor in the direction that maybe he'd just stepped in it again. Engine grumbling, Cliffjumper refused to feel bad about it.

It could have been a bad situation, and might yet still be.

[lastonepercent]

"Tracks. Move."

Words clipped and sharp, they were an order nonetheless. Tracks heaved himself off Cliffjumper with a rude shove, staggering back to balance on one uninjured leg.

As soon as he was out of the way, Mirage swooped down and grabbed two handfuls of tire and red armor, heaving the smaller mech up with a shriek of engine effort. Despite the shaking of his limbs, fury allowed him to briefly lift the minibot's entire weight, legs tangling before slamming his feet back down to the ground, spinning him around in his iron grip to glare in his face.

"Have you. Any idea. What you have done? Yet again?"

[cliffjumper]

"Hey---Gah!" There wasn't enough time to effectively protest his sudden airborneness before he was down on the floor again, standing up. The rattle as he hit the metal went all the way up to his sensory horns though, especially with how on-edge he still was.

Field flaring out along with a rev of his engine at Mirage's words, Cliffjumper raised his helm, chin jutting out as his hands slowly tightened into fists.

He'd messed up again. And just when he'd been intending to work up to an apology, but considering the reason he'd done it, Mirage's anger - which probably would be understandable by the end of this - was like someone had reversed the polarity of his EM field.

"Clearly I don't!" Briefly, resentment bubbling in his mind, Cliffjumper had the urge to yank himself free and just stomp out and not explain anything, but at the same time he wanted to make it clear he hadn't destroyed whatever had actually been going on out of spite or suspicion.

"But I can fraggin' well recognise pain, and--- and it looked like he was forcing you!" There were a lot of other words he wanted to say, explain it better, but nothing more came out as Cliffjumper made a scratchy, static-laced noise instead of more words, giving Tracks a glare before staring at the ground.

He did not look forward to having Mirage explain exactly what he'd interrupted and how much it had been destroyed by his bumbling right into it and... all this.

[lastonepercent]

"That makes it better than if you had!"

Mirage snapped out, punctuating his roar with a shake of the minibot in his grip. But he didn't get to shake him until his bolts started rattling, as he truly wanted to; Cliffjumper's explanation made him draw up short, and he nearly dropped the red mech in a heap.

"Oh, for the love of-" Mirage slapped a hand over his optics, while Tracks sputtered indignantly behind him.

"You cannot be serious."

"Clearly he is," snapped Tracks, returning Cliffjumper's glare with one of his own. "That is foul."

"That isn't what was going on at all." Mirage growled, pinching his nasal ridge in-between two fingers.

[cliffjumper]

Staggering a little from keeping upright through Mirage's manhandling, Cliffjumper hissed at their reactions and looked up again to meet Tracks' glare and Mirage's annoyed incredulity with a scowl.

"Just 'cause that's not what it wasn't doesn't mean that's not what it looked like to me!" Tossing his arms up in the air, Cliffjumper ducked and squirmed away from Mirage's grip since the mech ought to be distracted enough. He didn't feel like getting shaken anymore or yanked around, because he might end up punching Mirage if so.

"And of course it's slaggin' foul, that's why came in here!" Their incredulity didn't help Cliffjumper's mood at all, and he was giving his vocaliser a pretty good workout at the moment, though static was starting to thread underneath the words from upset more than anger.

He ignored that though, and contemplated the possibility of just barreling past the two larger mechs and get out of here. Apologise to Mirage later or something.

[lastonepercent]

"Stop staring at me like that!" Tracks growled, nubby wings flicking up high defensively as he bristled.

With a hiss of static, Mirage literally threw up his hands in exasperation.

"Noble as your intentions may have been, it was a Rite, not some seedy, sadomasochistic indulgence!"

[cliffjumper]

Making a sharp, rude gesture in Tracks' direction, Cliffjumper whirled to face Mirage again, his field skipping between being kept close and flaring out in jagged, uneven bursts.

"And how was I supposed to know that, huh!? If it hadn't been one of your stupid, slagging... things, would ya rather I'd have just turned around and left?" Cliffjumper snarled, mind briefly tangling with the word 'sadomasochistic' and he had the feeling he'd need to look that up.

Somehow.

Here and now, however, he was nearly vibrating with frustration, sheer angry stubbornness making sure he didn't feel the sting of embarrassment over having come to wrong conclusions again.

[lastonepercent]

"Do not profane it more than you already have!" Mirage snapped, field and armor bristling before he managed to subside.

"If the person in question was actively restrained or captured, then no. You aid might actually be required. But you should be aware that there are 'bots who may engage in similar activities for their own pleasure- which is not the point at all."

He jabbed a finger at Cliffjumper in irritation at the distraction, before pointing at his own frame and the new marks etched into it.

"As you are clearly not aware, I am a Priest of Primus." Mirage straightened up with pride as he announced it, not taking his eyes of Cliffjumper's.

"I felt it was time to renew my Markings-"

He swiped a finger across a glyph, wiping away some vaguely congealing energon and drawing a sound of distress from Tracks with his careless motion.

"-After my attempted Boundary Blessing went so awry."

[cliffjumper]

Cliffjumper grimaced and made a strangled little noise at the explanation that some people might do something like what had partly seemed to be going on, for both of their pleasure? Or what?

But that utterly confusing and rather creepy bit of information was promptly kicked down in priority for the next,a dn Cliffjumper ended up simply staring for a moment, then tossed his hands up and finally gestured vaguely at Mirage.

"You're what?" If he hadn't been so utterly surprised at this proclamation, Cliffjumper would probably have felt it pretty unfair the way the reveal had been phrased, because Mirage being a priest was clearly not common knowledge.

"You--- rrrr..." Confused and frustrated, Cliffjumper rubbed the side of his helm before his engine revved and he pointed up at Mirage. "That still don't invalidate---gggh! Ya think I would recgnise what was goin' on?!"

These had been a pretty spectacular two mistakes, and while the first really had been an overly confrontative and unfair questioning of what Mirage was doing, Cliffjumper was pretty sure he couldn't have been expected to know what was going on here.

Even if he felt some unpleasant tingling at the thought of having interrupted the rite (two of them), he pushed it down for now, stubbornly clinging to what ought to be mitigating his actions here.

[lastonepercent]

"A priest," Mirage replied blandly, staring down at the smaller mech.

"And if you had not rolled right on in without a cursory comm you would not have needed to know what was going on, now would you? We would have told you, if only to get you to go away."

He waved a hand even as he his voice dropped down to a mutter, fingertips brushing his brow in irritation.

"That will teach us to not lock the door."

Tracks snorted.

"I doubt it would have helped. He probably would have shot it open."

[cliffjumper]

"Everybody don't slaggin' think of all possible things they can do before actin', ya know," Cliffjumper snarled, aware but not caring such an argument could be used against him - sometimes acting immediately was the right thing to do, after all.

Then he pushed past Mirage and stomped up to Tracks, glaring up at the taller mech.

"And maybe I would have, but ya know what? I don't care!" It wasn't exactly true, because he wasn't feeling very proud over having disrupted a rite. He wasn't religious enough to ever have gone to a temple prior to the war, but still.

With that, Cliffjumper dashed for the door, intent on just... apologising at some other point and not when he was angry (and maybe upset) and almost ran into the wall of metal that suddenly just seemed to appear in the doorway.

The only reason he didn't was because Ratchet caught him at the shoulders.

"I care about checking every single blasted glitch in this room over before they leave, however. So back in with you!" Letting go of Cliffjumper's shoulders, Ratchet shooed at him.

Cliffjumper, engine sputtering, bristled.

"I don't--- don't need repairs! This ain't anyth---" The sharp wave at the cracked windshield and very obvious dent beneath it and words both petered off at Ratchet's stare, and he turned around and dropped down by the wall - and had to hold in a pained grunt as he did so. At least Ratchet hadn't yanked him around, just stopped him from crashing into him.

"I think I'll be the judge of that, and Mirage..." Optics narrowing at the mech while Ratchet went for Tracks first and none too gently made him sit down on the edge of the berth the two nobles had been on previously, he shook his hand at him. "Didn't I tell you to ping me before you attempted something like this? And sit down for the love of Primus!"

Priest of Primus or not, these were delicate procedures and Ratchet knew even the most experienced clergy had their own temple-medics (usually priests as well) nearby. The fierce lines on Ratchet's face easily telegraphed what he thought about having been called after things hadn't just gone bad (for whatever reason) but after they'd even started the rite.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage couldn't hide the smile when the minibot's attempt to flounce on out was abruptly halted by the surprisingly strudy frame of their chief medic.

Tracks didn't even try, snickering despite the wince the sound earned for abusing damaged faceplates.

Totally worth it.

"Hello Ratchet," Mirage greeted the medic blandly, unsurprised by the mech's arrival as he silently commed him the moment Tracks had been injured. His expression twisted at the reprimand, of course, and he sighed in exasperation.

"I have been doing this for thousands of vorns, Ratchet. I know how it is supposed to go."

[cliffjumper]

Cliffjumper made a noise like a broken tea kettle humans used and made a rude gesture at Tracks behind Ratchet's back (not that the noise was particularly polite either).

"And I happen to know that temple's had medics on hand for procedures and rites like this, so whether you know how it's supposed to go or not, it's about safety! And you, be quiet." Ratchet snapped, first at Mirage and then at Tracks, Cliffjumper mostly ignoring the by-play.

What he wanted to do was to go and hide somewhere.

"I can walk and if ya really have to check me over, I can go wait in the med bay---"

"You stay right where you are, Cliffjumper." Ratchet didn't even bother to turn around to wave his hand - and the tool in it - at him, just briefly lifted it away from Tracks' knee joint. "It might be superficial, but that doesn't mean it didn't effect something."

Muttering, Cliffjumper slumped down in his seat again and glared at the ground. He hated this and he just wanted everything to just go away but ignoring it wouldn't really solve anything.

Glancing up to sneak a narrow stare at Mirage, Cliffjumper pressed his lips together. Mirage would probably not listen, or, worse just toss it back in his faceplate or something considering what had happened so far, but at least he'd done it then...

::... Mirage.:: It still took a great long moment before he so much as opened the channel, and yet some more time before he pinged the mech.

[lastonepercent]

"Oh yes, because I might suddenly bleed out."

Mirage huffed sarcastically, but he made no move to escape. Vexed and bristling he may have been, but he wasn't stupid enough to try and escape the medic.

"Ah, but have you served as a medic in one before? Because unless you feel like sitting through your own ceremony to properly blessed and cleared to be in here during the Rite, you will not be invited inside during."

Mirage raised a challenging brow at Ratchet, silently daring him to try and order him otherwise. Prime would surely overrule it.

His tires twitched at Cliffjumper's comm, and he only spared the minibot a brief, irritated glance.

::What now?::

[cliffjumper]

"I don't need to be in the room to be at hand far quicker after it's over, than I am when I'm on the opposite end of the ship and completely unaware what you're engaging in." Ratchet turned his helm to give Mirage a sharp look and a raised upper ridge himself, thoughroughly unimpressed.

Cliffjumper didn't even see Mirage's brief glance, staring narrowly at the wall that had the small altar and unconciously poking at the dent in his chestplating.

::Uh... I just---:: Biting his lower lip, Cliffjumper frowned very hard at the altar, following the lines and subtle engravings on its surface. He wasn't good at this.

It wasn't even just not liking being wrong and having to apologise and feeling uncomfortable with it, he just wasn't good at it.

::... Was plannin' on doing this before, um. This.:: This wasn't going very well. His gaze flickered away from the altar, to Mirage, and then back.

::... Sorry. 'Bout the whole... accusin' ya thing on the mountain.:: He wasn't going to slump back against the wall. He was going to stare some more at the altar.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage matched Ratchet's look stubbornly, not to be outdone on his own area of authority.

"That is an acceptable compromise; thank you for volunteering."

He smirked faintly, as much pleased by as he was irritated by Ratchet's stubborn nature.

Cliffjumper's awkward apology made the look flicker quickly with surprise, though. He cast a doubtful stare the minibot's way, optics narrowing.

"...Are you now? Are you sure this is not just because you want to avoid getting yourself into further trouble?"

[cliffjumper]

"Volunteering, nothing! If I find out you do anything like this again without me, or in an emergency, First Aid, present, I will make you regret it." Ratchet's optics narrowed dangerously before he turned back to Tracks' joint, giving it a last few tweaks.

"That ought to do it for function since I don't have any spare armour on me." The cracks in the metal surrounding the joint weren't overly deep and could be taken care of by Tracks' self-repair, but he, like Sunstreaker, always insisted on everything being 'repaired', whether it needed to or not, right that moment instead of waiting for the self-repair.

Luckily they also (usually) knew when not to push this attitude.

Cliffjumper, meanwhile barely managed to supress his hiss and sank down where he sat, teeth gritted.

::Which fraggin' trouble?! Me apologisin' ain't gonna change that I got into a brawl with the snobby rust-up-his-circuits over there, so why the slag should I---:: Grinding his teeth and making sure his engine was locked down to not rev, Cliffjumper didn't bother doing anything with his jerky field - it wasn't reaching far enough the other three mechs in the room would have noticed unless they were already paying attention to him.

::I'm sorry for bein' an... an aft and not askin', okay? And... uh... sorry for messin' this up too, but I ain't sorry for interruptin' 'cause it could have been something bad!:: At the last, while Ratchet stood up, Cliffjumper finally turned his helm enough to glare at Mirage, chin stubbornly set.

They could say what they wanted, but he wasn't going to be sorry or apologise for interrupting a potentially bad situation, just... apologise for messing it up. Which wasn't precisely the same thing.

[lastonepercent]

"Provided you and First Aid can keep your servos on and not barge in at every inopportune moment, that is fine."

Mirage rolled his optics, refusing to quail under Ratchet's infamous glare. Cliffjumper's ongoing communications probably helped with that - it kept him angry.

::The brawl is one thing, interfering with me again is another. But I suppose I see your point.::

Mirage paused, venting heavily to try and keep his temper.

:Your intentions may have been 'noble', but apologies do not change what you destroyed. You interfered with my religion, Cliffjumper. One that is nearly forgotten but for myself and a handful of others.::

Mirage turned to meet Cliffjumper's glare, gold optics cold.

::The Rites will have to be redone. And the interloper will have to make amends to to the Rite itself. Not me.::

[cliffjumper]

Huffing, Ratchet just gave Mirage another narrowed stare before he crossed the floor and hauled Cliffjumper up - right at the moment Cliffjumper couldn't keep his squawk in at Mirage's demand that he make up for what he'd done.

Ratchet's arch stare and tilted helm was met with a quick shake of Cliffjumper's helm and the minibot looking away, almost crossing his arms over his chestplates before he remembered to not do that since Ratchet needed access to check his torso.

::What?! "Noble" fraggin' nothing, I just did it 'cause it wouldn't be right if someone was bein' assaulted, and how's that fair? I didn't even know you were doin' something like that!:: This was quickly going places Cliffjumper didn't trust at all - mostly because he wasn't sure Mirage wouldn't just make up something humiliating simply to get back at him.

Tracks probably would, and Mirage, however "proper" he was, was cybertronian as much as any of them (even if it didn't seem like that sometimes), and Cliffjumper had destroyed a whole lot more for him than he'd done for Tracks right now.

If he didn't want to accept the apology, fine, but this? He hadn't even meant to do anything but help and he'd especially not wanted to see Mirage at the end of an assault and...

... And he'd probably agree to it, but unease and anger was bubbling in his fuel tank.

[lastonepercent]

::And if someone was being assaulted, then there would be no problem for you!::

Mirage hissed through clenched lips, trying not to make their conversation any more obvious than it already was. Tracks was already starting to make optics at Mirage, glancing between them with a severe expression.

::But there wasn't so you broke the ritual for no reason and now we WILL follow tradition rite on how to fix it or so help me Primus!::

His fingers twitched, forming a fist at his side. Most. Infuriating. Minibot.

[cliffjumper]

::I don't---!::

If Cliffjumper's twitch was read as anything but a wince while ratchet poked about the dented armour beneath the cracked windshield, the medic pretended that was all it was.

"Stay still." The comment was idle and not even particularly severe, and Cliffjumper subsided with a grimace that was as much for the medic poking around as it was for the noble.

"Sorry," Cliffjumper muttered as he glared off to the side on the floor, studiously avoiding to look at and ignoring Tracks as his optics flickered around the room.

He did not want to, and having to do something he didn't know what it was just set off all sorts of alarms in his processor (justified or not) and made him want to dig his feet in over this.

But... It'd sort of be part of the apology, wouldn't it? Refusing would make his sincere if clumsily worded attempt seem more like he'd just tried to ward off Mirage's well-deserved anger (over the mountain thing, at least) instead of actually meaning it.

::... okay.:: He wasn't sure if it would matter at all at this point, and he'd probably be lucky if Mirage would want anything to do with him after all of this was over with, but at least he would have done the right thing?

Cliffjumper didn't really feel particularly relieved after agreeing to Mirage's demand, however, and was just staring narrowly at the floor. Since he was sort and his helm was bowed down, at least the two nobles missed the slight worrying of the lower lip.

[lastonepercent]

Honestly, Mirage expected to have to go Prime.

This...possible acquiescence, was unexpected. He wasn't sure Cliffjumper would actually go through with it yet, but...it was enough to get his fist to unclench, and some of the tension finally left him. Tracks raised an optic ridge at him, but he just shook his head minutely.

::...Good. I will contact you on an off-shift after I have prepared everything.::

And after this fiasco, Mirage was certain he could get Cliffjumper scheduled 'off' for a long enough period to properly make amends. Prime and Prowl would consider it part of his punishment, surely.

[cliffjumper]

He didn't like the sound of that at all and the worried abused of his lip disappeared in a scowl.

::Fine---::

Ratchet suddenly stood up, causing Cliffjumper to cut his intended angry complaint (or something similar at any rate) and instead take a step back.

"Right. If you're quite done." Ratchet's gaze went from Tracks to Mirage and then down to Cliffjumper. "I need you to come with me to the medbay. I'm not going to bang that dent out in here."

Mostly because it would have to be done by opening things up and/or removing armour, which he wasn't going to do with an audience.

Cliffjumper opened his mouth to protest and then just closed it up again, because Ratchet could have done a small repairjob and let his self-repair take care of the rest, and here he was apparently going to go the extra length needed.

::And you can tell me what happened.::

The only reason the already on-edge minibot didn't bristle at that, was because there was absolutely no judgement in the tone, and instead he huffed and whirled around, stomping out.

"And I don't want to see this continued and finished up before I can set the time aside to be around, you hear me?" Ratchet turned to give Tracks and Mirage a pointed stare each.