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

[lastonepercent]

"It's not what I want," Mirage corrected with a sigh. "It is what is required."

Mirage reached off the side of the bath into a bucket of tools, offering Cliffjumper a long-handled brush.

"You think you are the first person ever to interrupt a ceremony or walk in on a closed rite? Of course not. We have several ways to make amends, and this is the easiest and quickest."

Mirage didn't bother telling Cliffjumper that there were records of the more grievous offenses being dealt with in more permanent ways. In the heyday of the Priesthood, offering the offender's spark back to Primus was considered the ultimate purification.

...Even if that sort of thing had been an option, which it obviously wasn't, Cliffjumper's offense was mild. But it would have been so amusing to see the look on his face.

[cliffjumper]

If Cliffjumper had been more of an atheist, he'd probably have dug his feet in more about "what's required" and what wasn't, but while he'd never had much of a reason or chance to get much exposure to what there existed of organised religion on Cybertron before the war, he still had some belief.

Which meant he reluctantly took the offered brush with a narrow scowl, then eyed the bath like it was a smelting pool or full of acid rain runoff.

"Why can't it be somethin' else, I mean, ya can't mean there's just one way to do this..." With a grimace, Cliffjumper finally got in and well, it was just a bath so it didn't feel any different than it usually did, even if it wasn't one as pleasant as an oil or energon one, since it was meant to scour things off, not lubricate every little joint, seam and whatever else could rub against something else.

He still didn't like the idea of having to sit in on... that. Or having Mirage stare at him like this, but turning his back to the noble so he didn't have to see that wasn't possible either, so Cliffjumper ended up angled somewhat away from Mirage as he hesitantly got to work.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage waited a moment, nodding in satisifaction when Cliffjumper finally got into the bath.

It would feel like a normal bath at first, but given the far higher concentration of acids within the cleansing mixture Cliffjumper would probably notice a faint stinging after a while.

"There were other ways, but they are either no longer an option in the current world, or are situations that you would like even less."

Mirage shrugged, smirking faintly at Cliffjumper's back. He leaned away for a moment, reaching off to the side...before sitting back up with another brush and dunking it in the bath, before applying it to an unsubmerged portion of a shoulder-tire.

[cliffjumper]

It'd probably take a while before Cliffjumper could connect what it was that felt off about the bath and how usual scouring baths or showers usually felt, and he kept shifting on his feet and frowning at the liquid while he worked the brush over his side.

"... Ya know, that ain't the least bit reassurin'---" Cutting off, Cliffjumper's optics flickered as he registered the bristly pressure of one brish too many on the opposite side of where he was using the brush he held.

Usually, help would be appreciated and wanted, especially in places that were hard to reach, especially as it might imply, or lead to, some trust and attendant closeness. But Cliffjumper didn't trust easily, and washing - being vulnerable - with someone else in the room, even (especially) someone he... ahem, liked, but was well-aware didn't have much over for him, made the presence of that brush a sharp reminder of that Mirage was present in a way just talking hadn't.

"What're you doing!" That was not a squawk with slight static feedback, and neither did his optics flare as he whirled around, staggered backwards a step or two and almost fell backwards into the liquid, waving the brush at Mirage.

Not at all.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage leaned back with an optic flicker as liquid spattered across his frame off the brush.

Slowly, he raised an optic ridge, incredulous.

"...Speeding up the process, of course. I would think that is something you would have preferred."

He gave his own brush a jaunty little waggle in return, engine huffing in amusement.

[cliffjumper]

"Yes, but---" Cliffjumper practically hissed, now clutching the brush close as his optics flickered around the room, avoiding Mirage and his optics, trying to come up with an explanation that wouldn't explain anything... incriminating.

Even way before the war he'd been extremely picky about who he let help him, which sometimes led to issues of things getting left cleaned only by having had cleaning solution sluiced over it without a proper scrub when none of those people were close.

Cliffjumper's wary and hard to trus personality and wasn't a cause of the war, it had just been excerbated by it. And while he might have had an embarrassing thought or two of a scene like this, with this mech, it hadn't certainly been a situation like this... and it wasn't as if he'd ever thought it'd happen, so it hadn't mattered.

"I can do it myself," Cliffjumper finally insisted, aware of too-bright optics and that he still was clutching the brush like it was a weapon to hold Mirage off, and eased up the grip on it.

He certainly wasn't affected at all, no sir.

[lastonepercent]

Staring for a long moment, Mirage simply shrugged.

"Very well. You can do it yourself, but you will have to meet my standard of cleanliness before you can finish."

Mirage retreated from the defensive minibot, circling around to the other side of the large bathing tub.

"Properly being cleansed - especially from the organic detritus of this world - is very important for properly participating in our Rites."

And with that bit of wisdom...he slid himself into the pool, dunking himself completely before beginning to scrub himself down.

[cliffjumper]

"Yeah, yeah... I can understand that," Cliffjumper muttered, briefly relaxing and then frowning as he followed Mirage's saunter around the edge of the pool and then he...

Well, that was... easier... to deal with than having Mirage close enough he could help Cliffjumper clean himself, but it was hard not to stare as the liquid slid down the angled and planes and Cliffjumper, with a grunt and a narrow scowl, slid underneath the surface as well.

This wasn't fair. He didn't want to have to deal with the fragger being close enough he could imagine being able to touch, to get to do that and, frustrated, Cliffjumper had a spiteful moment where he wished Mirage could just be as terrible as Tracks all the time because he knew Mirage was actually okay - from Bumblebee if nothing else.

And he just--- Wait.

Things were sort of... stinging...

Erupting up from under the cleaning liquid, Cliffjumper sputtered and shook himself, but he could still feel a slight bite against everthing that was still under the surface. At least his faceplate didn't feel like it was being nibbled on.

"The frag is in this, anyway?"

[lastonepercent]

"Ah, noticed it, did you?"

Mirage smirked, dunking himself again before giving the vents around his helm a good brushing over. The feel of this particular solution around his face and head was his least favorite part, but he refused to even grimace around the stubborn minibot.

"Forty percent oil, forty percent standard cleanser, and twenty percent over-strength stripping-acid, for dissolving everything not native to a Cybertronian frame. Especially those organic bits that get everywhere on this planet."

He worked the heavy brush down along his joints and wheels with a sort of casual yet elegant viciousness; long limbs splaying out, joints twisting around, internal components as exposed as they could be before the bristles were thoroughly scrubbed across them. Mirage paused only long enough to pick out a stick fragment disdainfully, flicking it aside and out of the pool before continuing.

"Which is why I said you're not leaving until you are cleaned to my satisfaction."

[cliffjumper]

Cliffjumper didn't have any compunction about grimacing, neither about what Mirage was saying, or at the liquid itself, splashing the brush into it.

"And dissolvin' the surface of the sensitive bits on a Cybertronian as well." Were all religious-type things slagging crazy like what he'd seen so far? Annoyed, he dunked the brush into the liquid more firmly, glancing up at Mirage just as he removed it - and left it hovering above his armour as Mirage shifted around, as careless as you please...

With a twitch and then a shake of his helm, Cliffjumper turned half away and went to scrubbing with far more force than necessary. He really didn't want to be here and why didn't they do this one at a time since that would've had the same result?

"As if anythin' is gonna be left after a breen in here. Not like organic stuff's that hardy." Except when it got trapped somewhere, then it could be really hard to get out. Like bug parts.

Cliffjumper had now at least relaxed enough to be less self-concious, even if he was still extremely aware of Mirage and how far away he was. At least the liquid covered more of him than it did Mirage, so he didn't feel as vulnerable as he could have otherwise, even when he had to twist around and stretch to reach places - though it was a silly thought, since why would Mirage be looking anyway?

[lastonepercent]

"Only if you're too slow about it!" Mirage actually laughed, shaking the brush in Cliffjumper's direction once more.

"Organic bits may not 'last', but do not forget your wheel-wells. Don't think I haven't noticed the state of those things before now."

He was almost teasing, returning the earlier splatter of brush-fluid right back in Cliffjumper's direction before he sobered.

"Being 'pure' and clean is a very specific tenant of various rites, Cliffjumper. Besides, the sting only reminds you that you are alive...and can have some other benefits as well."

He smirked again, letting that sink in as he scrubbed down the lean planes of his chestplates.

He wasn't being suggestive. No, not at all...

[cliffjumper]

"Hey! There ain't nothin' wrong with my wheel wells!" Scowling, Cliffjumper nonetheless took the brush to them, starting out with the ones in his feet since the upper ones would require bending out his arms to really be able to get at them.

Balancing on one foot and trying to weigh between getting at the weel and standing up, Cliffjumper looked up, frowning as he tried to think that over. He could understand the "clean" thing, really, it was logical if annoying, but...

... Why was Mirage smirking?

"... What'd ya mean, 'other' benefits?"

And why was Mirage smirking like that, which just made his EM field twist around itself a little. Ugh.

[lastonepercent]

"Your wheel-wells are full of muck and grime more often than not. You and the other minibots...And 'bots like Hound who can't resist the urge to 'offroad'."

Apparently Mirage didn't seem to care about admitting that he had been looking at Cliffjumper's wheel-wells. The mention of the other minibots and Hound was tacked on after a moment of pause, but his smirk did not falter.

Really, it only seemed to get more amused.

"As for the other benefits... Well. Increased sensitivity is not often a bad thing."

[cliffjumper]

"Yeah, well, all of us can't be fraggin' picky platinum gilded..." The huffy tone trailed off as Cliffjumper realised that for Mirage to have noticed, he must actually have been looking.

Which probably didn't mean anything, really, because it would be just like some mechs to look to be able to judge - like Tracks and Sunstreaker and a few others, undoubtedly - but even that thought, pulled up like a defense, couldn't stop the slight widening of Cliffjumper's optics or him looking away from that infernal smirk.

"How's that even good---" Cutting himself off as he finally realised what Mirage was implicitely talking about, he sputtered, bright optics going to Mirage and then immediately away and at least Mirage was far enough away he wouldn't catch anything else of heat being dumped or the blushing flicker of his EM field.

"Uh. I... suppose that's true. Not that I---" Cutting himself off and resolutely turning away from Mirage, Cliffjumper went back to getting clean because by now the liquid was starting to sting more - which just led back to what Mirage had been saying and he really didn't need to think about that!

[lastonepercent]

"As you say."

Mirage just chuckled, low and deep, and went back to his own cleaning, allowing Cliffjumper to continue his. He was brisk and vigorous in wrapping up, but still thorough enough to finish up before Cliffjumper. The former noble gave him a once-over with his optics as he stepped out of the pool, plating steaming as the acidic bath poured out of crevices of his frame.

"...Give you back another pass and you should be clean enough. Then you can rise off the solution."

Mirage stepped over to one of the nearby shower stalls, blasting himself with a hot oil and neutralizing solution mixture. He sighed contentedly as the stinging faded; he stretched out his limbs and plating once more, acid quickly dissolved away.

[cliffjumper]

Cliffjumper was relieved he was turned away and Mirage couldn't see him squint and look away at that stupid fragging chuckle because it went right down and in and usually it wouldn't quite affect him, but the situation and the earlier topics had Cliffjumper unsettled.

With a huff at Mirage's declaration of his not-quite-done-yet state, Cliffjumper grimaced and watched Mirage wander over to the shower from under the edge of his helm, annoyance, frustration and a slight flicker somewhere around his spark chamber mingling together.

"Yeah, as if that's the easiest thing to reach..." It was more of a grumble because it wasn't as if he wanted (yes he did) to let Mirage close enough to helm him, so he ducked under the liquid again just to get some assistance to where he couldn't quite reach.

"This fraggin' well better be enough," Cliffjumper snapped as he burst up again and got up from the pool, and twisted around to help the liquid pour off. The slight movement of air from the vents trailed over his plating and made him shift, uncomfortably aware of it - it really was a lot more sensitive than after a normal scouring bath or shower.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage circled Clifffjumper at a distance after he exited the pool, checking him over with a more properly clinical optic. Eventually he nodded, surprisingly finding himself pleased.

"It is, actually. You've done well enough that I don't have to hose you down and brush you over myself."

Mirage grinned, moving over to the heat-blowers, which had stacks of fine micro-mesh polishing cloths in a shelf nearby.

"Dry off and make sure you give yourself a polish as well. I'd offer to help to save time, but since you seem so disinclined to accept assistance..."

He shrugged and turned his back to the little mech, dryer blasting on loudly.

[cliffjumper]

"Stop that!" Cliffjumper snapped and stomped off the moment Mirage was satisfied to wash off the lingering acids before getting dried off, before scowling even if it was obscured by the liquid.

"And why the slag is that too necessary? I'm clean, shouldn't that be enough?" He really couldn't see how getting a fragging layer of polish and shine would help in the 'purity' - that just seemed unnecessary. Getting rid of dirt, organic detrius and patina he could understand, but polish too?

And why the slag had Bumblebee never said Mirage could be... be like he'd been part of the time right now? It made errant charge flicker down his circuits from being flustered.

Not that he'd admit to that.

[lastonepercent]

"No. I needed to make sure you were completely clean."

Mirage rolled his optics, reaching for a cloth and beginning the long buffing process even as he continued to stand under the dryer.

"And looking your best is just as important as being clean. Honestly, Cliffjumper. You'd think you'd want to look presentable for holy rite of Primus."

[cliffjumper]

Getting out from under the spray and turning it off, Cliffjumper huffed and stomped over to the drying area.

"If I'm clean, then I'm fraggin' well presentable. Anything else is just unnecessary... extra." Not that he wasn't aware that a nice polish and buffing did add something to one's look, but it had never really mattered much. Before he war, he'd only done what was minimum necessity because it was easier like that... During the war, being clean had been good enough, but Bumblebee had always badgered him into looking nice for any ceremonies that happened earlier on.

Nowadays (even before their long "nap"), ceremonies weren't really a thing that happened much anymore.

"I'm pretty sure vanity ain't looked down on," Cliffjumper paused and rolled his optics, because maybe it should be, but religious-wise, he was pretty sure it wasn't. "But ain't it like... I dunno, makin' yourself look better than you are or something?" He actually hesistated for a good few moments before saying that, and wasn't looking at Mirage as he said it, feeling somewhat embarrassed over having said anything of that at all.

Mostly because Mirage was a priest (which was still odd to think on), but partly because he didn't really reveal his own thoughts on matters like these.

[lastonepercent]

"Hardly. Looking your best is not looking better than you are, because it is you."

Mirage scoffed, giving Cliffjumper a completely perplexed glance.

"Rites are about being the best you can be, in body and spark. Showing your full potential. And you may not be aware, but most rites are generally preformed in the open, in front of a gathering. One should look their full-best."

[cliffjumper]

If Cliffjumper had caught that glance, he'd probably have made a rude and huffy noise in reaction, so it was probably just as well that he was still turned away. It didn't stop him from grimacing, however.

"Yeah, well, most of us don't got the fraggin' time to look our best all the time! And if I can't be at my best without all this slaggin' stuff..." Trailing off, Cliffjumper shrugged and reluctantly picked up a polishing cloth before he frowned and cast a glance up at Mirage.

"In front of people? Not all og 'em, right?" Because that didn't seem... right. Or comfortable. Especially not in situations like... whatever this thing would be.

[lastonepercent]

"I never said one must be polished all of the time. And as for rites, most are public, yes. All? Of course not."

Mirage scoffed, but otherwise seemed to be taking the discussion very seriously now. Somehow, it had become a teaching situation, and that was half of the point they were trying to achieve today. Teaching the other mech to respect their Rites and behaviors, and that meant that he should at least have a basic understanding of it.

"The one we will be preforming tonight is not meant to be public, no. Which is in part, why your intrusion was so disruptive."

He raises an optic ridge in Cliffjumper's direction, arm raising up over his head to polish as much of his back as he can manage.

[cliffjumper]

The only thing Mirage got for his pointed stare and comment was a stubborn glare right back and a huff - there was some tension in his shoulders which angled the wheels there slightly oddly because yes, he was sort of feeling guilty.

But.

"... I ain't apologisin' for that," Cliffjumper muttered, optics dropping with a scowl to the floor as he with a certain lacking enthusiasm worked the polish in. Well, he'd already partly apologised, but what he would continue to not apologise for as interrupting what he'd thought was a bad situation.

So there.

"So what's usually... uh, public and not?" He wasn't precisely interested, but at the same time he did want to know. Whatever else happened, to actually have some insight into Mirage wasn't something the minibot would say no to.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage merely raises an optic brow at Cliffjumper's declaration, before shrugging and continuing his polishing.

They would be seeing about that.

"Oh, the Prime-coronation rituals are public, of course. Standard holiday-blessing days, event blessings, spark-rituals..."

Mirage twisted in his seat, giving the minibot another incredulous stare.

"Have you really never seen any of these?"