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

;D

[lastonepercent]

Mirage could only raise an incredulously brow at the assertion that someone might not want to.

He wasn't touching that one.

"Me? Of course I do. Did. I started out as a 'mere' sensitive myself. Priests train up other sensitives to become acolytes or even full priests when they follow the Call."

He shook his head, stunned that he even had to explain such a thing.

"But there are never enough. Sensitives are too few to pass up any who are found."

[cliffjumper]

He just stared back, the glow of his optics steady. Yeah, he was being absolutely serious here.

"I still don't fraggin' get why, Mirage." Throwing his arms up, he then slumped back and crossed them over his chestplates, feeling frustrated. "If those who can't see all that slag can do all the stuff anyway, what the slag are... 'sensitives' needed for then?!"

Not that he'd ever had agreed to stay and be trained if he'd been found out back in the day. Would he have had a choice? Eyeing Mirage, Cliffjumper decided he didn't want to know if he'd have had a choice regarding to stay and be trained or not.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage couldn't help it. He pressed a palm to his forehead in exasperation, slowly dragging his hand down his face.

"That's just it. They can't. 'Normal' Cybertronians may participate in the Holiday rites, but they can't be more than Acolytes and Devout Low-Priests, no matter their faith."

He shook his head, gesturing with his free hand passionately.

"Full Priests have to be sensitives. They cannot do all those tasks I mentioned without the Sight."

[cliffjumper]

"... Oh." Staring, Cliffjumper was caught in a brief moment of open, wide-optic surprise and slow understanding as things actually started to make sense. Well, at least Mirage's kind of huffy insistence and whatever did, not his confusion over why someone might not want to be a priest.

"Still wouldn't make a good priest, or want to be one," Cliffjumper finally said with a huff, grimacing as he turned his helm aside in stubborn refusal. Not that it mattered, now or in the future, but Cliffjumper felt it had to be said.

Mirage was pretty and not actually a bad Autobot or soldier (or friend, but Cliffjumper couldn't judge that, really), but in some things he could be kinda dumb.

"... Is there any way to make me not able to see this scrap? Would rather it didn't happen again." Turning back to face Mirage, Cliffjumper frowned, expression plaintive rather than accusatory or impatient.

All this made him fragging unsettled and he could really do without risking something like this happening again if he ever was close to another ceremony or holiday celebration done properly or whatever.

[lastonepercent]

"You want to-"

Mirage's jaw dropped, face twisting with horror. He jerked back in his chair, shuddering at the very idea.

"Of course there isn't! The very idea is- is just horrifying! It's heresy."

It was the only word he could think of strong enough to encompass his utter rejection of the suggestion, and he still sputtered, field going erratic. Why would Cliffjumper even?

"You may not like the idea of the holiday rites or the priesthood, but for Primus' sake, why would you want to cull a part of you?"

[cliffjumper]

Twitching, Cliffjumper's expression twisted into a deep scowl and he almost folded up in his seat. The defensiveness could probably be cut with a knife, so thick was it... but it wasn't all defensiveness.

Mirage's words were spectacularly echoing someone else, from a long, long time ago. Then, like now, it made him feel guilty for having suggested something like that, and then he just felt angry at the judgement of him.

At least Mirage was dealing with the same thing, even if he liked it and had made a living out of it. The fact that they were somewhat similar didn't really help though.

"It's my fraggin' spark and frame!" Yelling, Cliffjumper glared right back at the noble and then dropped his optics to glower at the table instead. "... but kinda forgot that. It's kinda creepy, I suppose."

With a sigh that was more of a grunt, Cliffjumper frowned at the table as if it was somehow at fault.

[lastonepercent]

Face still pinched, Mirage shuddered in his chair with residual disgust. He felt no regret at seeing Cliffjumper flinch down - or (finally) causing his outburst. The idea was too horrible to properly contemplate.

Like being denied your alt mode.

"...It's your very spark and frame that gives you that talent in the first place, and it was granted to you for a reason." He grit out through clenched teeth.

"'Creepy' is an understatement."

[cliffjumper]

Mirage would probably be even more horrified if he ever found out other things, but that was unlikely to ever, ever happen. Right now, after all, Cliffjumper was rather surprised they were still in the same room and talking.

"Still doesn't make me wanna deal with it if it's gonna be a fraggin' hassle, ya know," Cliffjumper snapped, talking more to the table than Mirage. He could feel (or imagine, anyway) all that disapproval.

It was all very familiar and it just made him grumpier.

"Okay, so there's no way to get rid of it, can I... I dunno... make it not happen? Or is that somethin' that doesn't work either and I just gotta learn to actually fraggin' deal with it just so I don't get dragged into... uh... trance again?"

He both did and didn't want to spend more time with Mirage.

Did, because well. he was attracted and Mirage was... well, Mirage was fragging difficult but he was also... nicer than he'd thought he'd be, despite all this religious stuff, and he just didn't fragging want to know.

On the other hand he didn't want it, because what if Mirage found out? He also didn't need his crush to intensify, or be harrassed by Mirage just being there and close.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage raised his head and gave Cliffjumper a look.

"Well yes, actually."

Despite the lingering disgust, his voice was quickly taking on a dryly humorous tone; he knew Cliffjumper wouldn't like what he had to say.

"One of the earliest things acolytes learn is how to control their gifts, lest they are controlled in turn. Standard priest training."

The corner of his lips twitched at the irony.

[cliffjumper]

He missed the look, but Mirage's tone had Cliffjumper look up, frown drawing together on his faceplate as well as the beginning edges of a defensive expression. He didn't like that tone at all.

"... Oh, come the frag on!" Throwing his hands up as his frustration exploded, though not really at Mirage even if he was the only target and the reason for it as the messenger, Cliffjumper slumped back against the chair.

"That's all I can do?" Arms crossed, the earlier explosion simmered down into something that was dangerously close to frustrated petulance as he looked up at Mirage. He didn't want to have anything to do with this crazy thing, or Mirage's stupid priest things, or having to spend time with Mirage.

... No, the last was at least a partial lie, because he did sort of want that, but like slag did he need it because that'd not make anything easier at all.

[lastonepercent]

"As far as I am aware."

Mirage shrugged defensively, hands fluttering up toward the ceiling. He wasn't going to try and convince him otherwise. Let Cliffjumper find out from others as well if he would not accept him from himself.

"You are welcome to try for a second opinion elsewhere, but I lack any proper advice as to where. Prime or Ratchet, perhaps, but they will likely tell you the same."

[cliffjumper]

Rolling his optics, Cliffjumper just snorted and didn't even bother go glance up at Mirage. His frustration would be obvious enough anyway, and angry or not... Well, okay, maybe part of it was aimed at Mirage because of his complete lack of understanding regarding why Cliffjumper would want this, or to have become a priest.

Most of it wasn't actually aimed at Mirage however, just at his ability in general. He didn't need more stupid slag.

"Doubt there's any fraggin' reason to do that, 'cause I doubt I'm even in the last fifth or whatever, of people you'd prefer bein'... sensitive," Cliffjumper said with a snort and a sharply lopsided smile. "'Cause I ain't gonna change my mind, havin' control of this or not, and I'm pretty fraggin' sure we've got people on the ship that'd be both more suitable and more willin' to be priests than what I am."

What a pity for Mirage.

The Cliffjumper looked away abruptly, frowning at the wall and shifting in his seat a little, sinking deeper into it.

"... Since I... have to actually get control of it... would you... uh, be willin'..?" Because assuming Mirage would want to spend time with him was just silly. As if he would want to.

H'e dprobably do it out of obligation, however.

[lastonepercent]

"Ability never limits itself to those we expect, Cliffjumper."

Something that had greatly surprised him, long ago, and formed one of the first of many cracks in his long-held, ingrained 'the Wealthy are inherently Better' belief system.

Not that corruption had not been rife within the even the Priesthood, but there were still some-

Mirage reset both his optics and his audials, gaze darting to Cliffjumper in surprise.

"'Would I be willing to...'?"

Honestly, he had expected the minibot to storm off, demanding a second (and third...and fourth) opinion.

For Cliffjumper to actually ask this of him...

"What, train you?"

[cliffjumper]

Cliffjumper glared back at Mirage, arms folded against his chestplate, and thrust his chin up.

"Yeah. Just so I can deal with this stupid slag and not get... trapped again. That's all!" he quickly shot out with a scowl, because he didn't want to give Mirage any hope that he might be willing to actually become a priest or whatever.

Because no matter what, Cliffjumper had neither interest nor inclination towards that... nor, he guessed, the temprament or... tolerance towards some of those rituals.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage allowed himself the luxury of openly boggling for several moments, before regaining his composure quite professionally.

"Well. I'm actually impressed that you would ask."

Fussing for a moment, he laid his palms on the table, frowning across it directly at Cliffjumper.

"But given your stipulations, I'm not certain I can, you see. As in, if I should."

[cliffjumper]

"What!?" Cliffjumper yelled and snapped out of the chair, gripping at the table's edges. "You can't fraggin' say somethin' like that after you say there ain't any other way to get rid of this or anything else!" Hissing, Cliffjumper grunted and let go of the edge with a disgusted snarl, throwing his arms up in the air.

"Or is there and you ain't tellin' me just 'cause you're trying' to get me to agree to all that... religious stuff? I ain't becomin' a slaggin' priest Mirage!" He really hoped Mirage wasn't doing exactly that.

But maybe that would kill his stupid, foolish crush, so maybe he should hope Mirage was doing exactly that.

Did Mirage somehow think he would make a good priest? The noble couldn't be that delusional.

[lastonepercent]

Ah. There was the expected explosion of temper. About time.

As he had been waiting for it in some form or another, Mirage was able to keep a hold on his own temper, aside from a rather pinched, exasperated expression taking over his faceplates.

"I don't think you really grasp what you are asking of me, Cliffjumper."

He slapped a palm down on the table, preemptively interrupting any further outbursts.

"As I have stated, rites undergone by trainee priests help with this sort of control that you desire. And as you have stated, numerous times, you have no intentions of involving yourself in any sort of priesthood. With good reason."

For once, they were in agreement on one thing. He really did not think Cliffjumper was the priestly type.

"So while I would truly like to assist you, I do not know if I can, in good conscience, teach Holy Rites to a non-priest who has no intentions of using them as intended. Do you understand the conundrum here?"

[cliffjumper]

Probably just as well Mirage interrupted him, because Cliffjumper was grinding his teeth and his engine was snarling in jagged revs. He would have broken out yelling again if Mirage hadn't briefly surprised him with slapping his hand down on the table.

It didn't derail the frustration, but it briefly distracted him.

Growling, Cliffjumper did his very best not to burst out yelling before Mirage was done. Or he thought he was done, anyway. He might have stopped listening and had to do a quick review again and his field spiked out with his growl.

"Great. So we both know that." Optics flashing, Cliffjumper realised he should probably have remained sitting since at least he'd be closer to Mirage's faceplate like that, but he couldn't fragging well sit right now.

"Might be a fraggin' 'conundrum' for you, Mirage, but from where I'M standin' it just looks like your damn priesthood made sure there was no other fraggin' way to get help for an issue anyone might get hit by than by goin' to them!" The snarling grew into a yell, and Cliffjumper whirled around, stomping towards the door as he continued.

"Obviously the rites are actually real, and they mean a lot to people, not just the priesthood, but I don't fraggin' think I oughta have to swear to do somethin' I don't want to, or don't fit me, just 'cause some sludge-spewing, rusty elitist cargohaulers hoarded the only way to get control of this stupid, useless, thing!"

It took two tries for him to unlock the door and Cliffjumper would be sorry he was so angry except he wasn't, really, at all and frag all this. He didn't even bother to give Mirage a last dirty glare, because technically he wasn't mostly angry at Mirage (just a little), but rather at whoever first made sure the way to train to get this ability to see raised spark energy under control was to train as a priest.

The door opened, and Cliffjumper stormed out with enough noise he sounded far heavier and larger than he was.

[lastonepercent]

"That is not why-" Mirage sputtered, ire-risen voice lost under Cliffjumper's own rant.

He'd hoped the minibot would understand something of his own internal conflict - and yet once again, he'd underestimated the little menace!

"You don't understand a damned thing!"

Vocalizer hissing static in indignation, Mirage was left alone in the room, half-risen out of his chair in his fury.

Letting out a roar of frustration, Mirage backhanded his chair aside - knocking it right over and against the wall - and stormed out. He was invisible before he'd gone three steps into the hall, refusing to allow his ire to become the subject of gossip and speculation yet again.

He headed opposite of the direction of Cliffjumper's stomping, determined to avoid the little glitch for as long as possible.