red_diode_district | LET'S BREAK THIS THING IN

He didn't like it.

They didn't care.

Objections brushed aside, concerns dismissed, his growing embarrassment subtly mocked; Optimus Prime was quickly getting the impression that his new-found rank carried little weight with the Council, or even with their lackeys. If this was how they mowed over him during planning for a simple event, he feared what they could really do during an official, convened vote or debate.

His own, personal bodyguard - old and boisterous though he was, was loyal, and the red mech slapped him on the back with a heavy hand, as encouraging as he could be, even if it scuffed his new finish.

"Aw, don't fret about it, Prahm. These functions are borin' as pit. Might as well have someone nice t' look at while you're stuck there. -Shoo you! He's had enough!" Ironhide waved a massive hand at the little servant mech that crept up while he talked, buffing out the scuff before the guard could scare him off. Optimus sighed. Ironhide meant well, but he simply didn't get it.

"That is hardly the point..."

"If it makes ya feel better, remember, you're givin' some little pleasure bot a job for the night-" Optimus' sputter and sudden, heated ventilation cut him off, and Ironhide barked with laughter.

"Not like that! Primus, you're a prude - good ta see the high class afts haven't gotten to ya completely yet. Naw, you're the one always goin' on about helpin' the lower classes, Prahm. Some bot is gettin' paid tonight 'cause of you, whether ya' do anythin' or not."

Optimus cringed, but couldn't object to that idea at all.

"Very well then. ...Are you sure you're not under the council's pay, Ironhide? Your words were far more effective than their own."

"Like slag I am!" Ironhide's indignant laugh soothed his mood only slightly, and he reluctantly continued with his preparations for the gala.

The femme walking along the corridor with a servant mech in front of her was a study in calm. She had a mission, after all-- no, a job. That was all it was. But jobs were important, and this job was the reason for her function.

Supposedly.

She was an exceptional member of her caste, and while a boat alt might seem a strange choice, the large side-panels for her alt made strangely graceful-looking "wings".

The door the servant stopped at was large, pompous, and unnecessarily etched. She just considered it, however, with a slight tilt of her helm that allowed the light from above slide down her antennae as the door was opened and the servant stepped in and to the side, allowing her to come in after him.

"Prime, your company for tonight."

Thanks to Ironhide's easy-going nature, he had been spared from staying too focused on the uncomfortable situation. He had laughed freely when the large, battle-scarred mech had grudgingly allowed himself to be polished and waxed up so he wouldn't appear too out of place following the new Prime around, guarding his back.

The good natured grumbling throughout the entire spectacle had him appreciate his recently acquired mask more than ever ("A Prime needs to be able to speak freely and hide his inner opinions, and you, young Prime, wear your emotions far too plainly!") and he could tell it would come in handy throughout the night.

He hoped the good mood would stay with him, but it vanished distressingly quick at the servant's announcement.

He turned around, and dazedly realized he had another reason to be grateful for the mask, his jaw dropping under it as he registered the gorgeous, energon-pink femme standing before him.

"...gnn?"

Had she been someone else, she might have been rather flustered at the reaction - most like to be recognized, but someone finding you so attractive could be intimidating - but she wasn't. Instead there was a slight smile and another tilt of her helm while she took another few steps further into the room, allowing the movements to show off her frame to its best result.

"An honour to have this opportunity, especially at an event like this." Elita smiled, slightly amused at how ot was both true... a lie. It didn't matter. Even as she privately got over her inner reaction to the Prime's... ahem... flattering reaction, Elita walked past the mech who'd be their shadow, briefly tilting her helm up at him, before she came to stand next to the Prime.

... He hummed.

She knew it was the Matrix, but he felt alive in a way that was fascinating... maybe it was simply the lack of this in her home. Distance might do it. No matter. Another tilt of her helm up, her optics slightly dim as she didn't - exactly - look the Prime into the optics, allowing him to watch... and proceed at his own pace.

"-I..ah...Y-yes, thank you. It's a pleasure-" The sputtering only lasted a moment, but it was more than enough to make his systems heat up in embarrassment.

::So what were you saying about not wanting to go this thing or have an escort, Prahm?:: Ironhide chuckled over the private line, his amusement all over his facelates.

::...You are not helping.:: He growled back. Ironhide's laughing response also did not help, but Optimus finally straightened up like the Prime he was supposed to be, basic manner protocols coming back online sluggishly. He managed to tear his optics away from her frame long enough to dip his head in a short greeting, and when he came back up, his optics were glued to her faceplates instead.

The docks never had any femmes around, their frames too easily crushed by the massive shipping crates, and the library...no one ever came there. He'd hardly ever come across a femme in his life, and the few that he had looking nothing like this one.

"I...hope you enjoy the event. Might I know the name of my company for the -ah, evening?"

Consort, yes, but he was not about to actually DO anything.

The sputtering was as soothing in a way as it was adorable, and it told her several things. Sure, the Prime was new but he also seemed relatively young, which would inform a few things. The biggest issue would be the bodyguard, but opportunities didn't always present themselves; sometimes they had to be created.

Elita took a step closer, winding the arm closest to the Prime under and around it with an ease that made it seem as if Optimus had actually held that arm out for her, and not stood there stunned.

"Elita One, Prime, if it pleases you to use it." She could, of course, not have offered it if he hadn't asked, but he had, and on some level that pleased her. He might not have the opportunity or desire to actually talk to her during the evening, but that he was interested enough - on whatever level - to ask her actual designation was a pleasure she couldn't have counted on.

Armor and audials twitching at the sudden proximity, he at least managed to gently finish the motion without pinching her armor with his own, clasping her arm politely.

Propriety downloads had been one of the first things they'd shoved into his processor, after all.

"-I, yes, of course. Elita One. You ...may call me Optimus." Ironhide's sputter as he overheard the offer went unremarked upon - it wasn't a complete breech of etiquette, as his name was his own to offer, and a number of council members already used it without offering their own in turn - but to do so to a consort he had just met...

Optimus hardly cared, only glancing away at last as another servant entered, motioning them forward.

"They are ready for you now, my Prime."

And even if they hadn't done that, she would have been able to avoid such an occurrence unless he'd... tripped, or yanked his arm close against himself, or something of a similar nature. Elita's optics flickered just minutely at the offering of his actual name and being allowed to use, it, and she dipped her helm before angling it up again.

That it was at the correct angle to let the side of her face, specifically her antenna, catch the light just so wasn't a coincidence. Somewhere else, she would never have done it conciously unless they had both been on the same file, and while he was an attractive mech of nice angles and lines, she couldn't...

"I'll not wear it out," Elita said with a tiny smile as the servant motioned for them to come and she followed when the Prime moved, deftly plucking a particular type of drink from the offered tray at the door as they moved past; there had only been one on her side, of course, and she didn't even like this type but then... it wasn't for her.

Rather, it was for the Prime, when he wished it. Couldn't have him look like a regular mech and maybe spill something by walking around with a drink in hand, right? And Elita had been briefed upon presenting herself, as to the particulars of what the new Prime might want.

Optimus' face lit up at the smile, even if most of the expression was hidden under his mask; and if the quick glance was any indication, then Elita's shift for attention received the desired result. Then, reluctantly, he focused on business, leading them out onto the floor as the center of attention, Ironhide following just behind. He didn't show it, but given that Elita was attached to his arm, she could probably feel the growing tension in his frame as optics turned their way, not all of them awed or even benevolent. A number of them swarmed the Prime the moment it was polite to do so, and Optimus reluctantly braced himself.

Still, he managed the political minefield without floundering, going so far as to 'cheat', drawing on what peace and wisdom he could get from the Matrix itself. The humming briefly surged, before retreating just as quickly, leaving a marginally more relaxed Prime in it's wake.

"-No, I agree that the situation has a number of issues, and I'm sure we can reach an accord, once in a more official setting. Yes, thank you."

A polite nod, and the last of the initial swarm faded back into the crowd. Optimus vented a relieved sigh, cautiously glancing over at the femme he simply hadn't been able to talk with for the past cycle.

Elita leaned subtly closer as the hum surged, and fell away, a feeling... more than a sound or actual physical presence, that had been long lost, and current situation didn't dissuade her from indulging in attempting to catch the barest of brushes of that presence. In fact, going slightly closer to allow the surrounding crowd just that bit closer while at the same time creating more of a wall on her side of the Prime, was in full accordance of her current job.

So long since that feeling... presence, caress and brightness had been bestowed; long enough Elita had nearly forgotten what it felt like, and that brief brush was near overwhelming, nearly breaking and rearranging necessary processes currently in place for desired action.

But not now. Hopefully soon.

When the initial crowd dispersed, Elita cocked her helm at the Prime, offeirng up the drink she'd been holding all this time; of course it was still in peak condition, the goblet designed for this.

"Drink, Optimus?" Elita couldn't help feeling both much too daring and slightly... naughty, at using his given designation, considering he hadn't been able to offer it to her in full knowledge of her, even if her designation was true.

It was still, in its own way, a deception, to add to the rest.

"Oh! Thank you. Did you have something for yourself?"

He accepted the cube gratefully, mask splitting soon enough to expose the end of his smile before he took a drink. Huffing out a pleased sound through his vents at the taste, he gave Elita a look.

"I hope you're not terribly bored. This isn't exactly the most...er, enjoyable of events." His smile was a bit sickly. He had been in office for less then a stellar cycle and he already hated politics.

The question, considering the earlier concern, she should have anticipated and forestalled by getting something for herself, but Elita hid both her surprise at being asked - it really wasn't a usual ocurrence - and the fact that she hadn't with a genuine smile and shake of her helm as a subtle gesture had one of the servers come with a tray to choose something from.

"No. Thank you for reminding me." Elita was almost too quick with taking a sip, but managed to be graceful about it; that tail-end of smile had no place actually effecting her like it did beyond sliding half a step closer and deliberately pitching her engine slightly lower.

"I... luckily enough, am not the one supposed to care for their concerns," she said with a small smile and briefly stroked the tips of her fingers over the armour her hand rested against; it might not be strictly the correct thing to say, but considering the earlier actions and words, she thought he might appreciate it.

She hoped she was correct; otherwise he'd be well within his rights to reprimand her at his choosing.

The idea of reprimanding her never even crossed his mind. Instead, he laughed into his cube, which was a good distraction from her sudden closeness.

"No, fortunately for you, that's just my job."

His amusement couldn't completely distract from her touch, though, and the air coming from his vents went up a few degrees in pleased embarrassment.

"Nn. Speaking of, we could possibly make it over to the mineral table without being swarmed for a short while."

The buffet table was laden with the few, various dishes Cybertronians had, in addition to a number of smaller sampler cubes of rare vintages. It was a baffling expense and display of wealth, and it still managed to stagger the young Prime.

It was one of the few things he looked forward to at these events - at least until he'd suddenly been saddled with a lovely femme on his arm, of course. He tilted his helm in the direction of the table, giving her a hopeful smile.

Elita was facinated, amused, and slightly embarrassed that her closeness and such brief touches could elicit such reaction. Obviously, she knew she was attractive, and thanks to certain changes, knew how to best use this in the service of her job.

That didn't meant it wasn't as pleasing as it was strange to have someone - despite being young - both attractive and powerful react as he did. She was good at what she did, but she was hardly special.

"You do not seem to think it a fortune, though. Despite handling it well," Elita questioned quietly while she followed Optimus' gaze to the table and grinned slightly to herself before looking back up at the Prime. That smile... well, let's say she was glad for the programming that let her stay merely appreciative of its qualities instead of being hit full force with such a... ah, adorable expression.

"Well, if you think us moving won't draw attention enough to call forth any others, it is there to be partaken of." She couldn't say she didn't want to try a few things, either; the items on the table were obviously of quality and most of them were rare.

"They will likely leave us for be for a few breems at least. It wouldn't be polite otherwise." He shrugged, the entire concept of Elite-Class etiquette still new enough to him that he felt no shame in displaying his bemusement. Her approval seemed to please him either way, and he lead them to the table without issue.

"...Well. It is a great honor, of course. A massive opportunity. But I didn't exactly expect it to be so..."

Controlling. Repressed. A false title. Nearly degrading, how little power he had to actually change things. He sighed.

"...Complex, I suppose. Oil cake?" Optimus offered her the small plate with a wry smile. Even if she was absolutely stunning, he didn't know her yet, not enough to ramble about all of his concerns.

Elita was aware of said etiquette too, even if that was as new as some other things, and less... natural, in a way. But she reviewed what she had and realized he was right. She couldn't say she was displeased, either; the crowd had been nearly disrespectful (after normal standards of etiquette and personal space both) earlier, and she didn't like feeling crowded by these... corrupted fume-stains.

Elita tilted her helm, wondering at the pause. But despite being the Prime, he hadn't been one for long... obviously it could take time to find words.

"Maybe it'll just take a bit until the power in here," Elita said as she raised the hand that held her cube, touching a corner against the faux-glass to indicate what was beneath. "To settle, and for you to draw from it..." She trailed off, nearly upset at the thought that here, he was nearly fumbling, drawing on that power, calm, inspiration whenever needed and they hadn't--

"... Ah, thank you," she smiled as she put down her cube and took the offered treat, optics roaming over the table. "Or would you prefer it?" Another smile as she offered the as-of-yet untouched cake. Obviously, she wouldn't be feeding it too him, that was much too crude for the setting, but offering it to him was both proper behaviour and... held some implications.

"Oh." He looks taken aback for a moment, be it because of the touch or the fact that she brought up the one thing hardly anyone else dared to - or more than likely, some combination of the two.

"It is... more a problem of laws and balances, really. Accessing it isn't...terribly difficult." Really, it was almost easy at times, the warmth calling him home, but it sounded far too much like bragging for his own tastes, which was bad enough. Gloating over having access to ancient, occasionally Divine wisdom? That was just acting like an aft.

"...It's just that their wisdom does little good when half the laws have changed since they lived. And no thank you. I'm rather partial to other things, myself." He reaches for another dish: energon goodies. They're coated with mercury sauce and lead sulfide crystals, but they are still regular old goodies underneath, and he bites into one thoughtfully, eager for the distraction.

The thought was alien. Mostly because this was the Prime; he should be the one with the heaviest - if not the only - voice in the government, after all. Briefly, she wondered if they might have missed something... but no. She knew well how all the other attempts had gone.

"Ah." She nodded then, and kept quiet; she understood what he was saying, and she knew she couldn't question that when to do that... wouldn't just be against proper decorum and the function of light conversation at a public event like this, but the nature of her protest could be heard by others, and be very telling.

"In the interest of other thing, while they are still busy being "polite"..." Elita trails off as she takes a small bite of her cake, smiling, and then lowers her vocalizer; using comms at the moment would be exceedingly rude, especially as she started talking verbally, and it would be very obvious she'd have switched to comm.

"What would you rather be doing?" This is near whispered into his audial, Elita briefly standing on the tips of her pedes to reach, her optics flickering briefly as she lowers herself back, lop-sided smile on her faceplates.

She is here to entertain him if he wants the entertainment, even if she would usually not be addressed at functions like these.

Ironically enough, he doesn't make the connection at first. Still thinking about his duty as a Prime and staring down at his plate in thought, he takes a rather sullen bite out of his energon goodie.

"Doing something productive rather than listening to senators give the same excuses over...and over...? Ah?" His armor shivers belatedly at the contact, and he gives Elita a wide-optic'd stare.

"...Um."

Had it been that exceptional? Elita stared back, surprised, her own optics wide and bright until her processor reviewed what just had happened, and her programming put together the clues. It still wasn't easy to not feel slightly... embarrassed or pleased? that it had been taken that way.

"Productive in what way? I'm sure you have quite a few things you'd like to engage in rather than this." This time, Elita tried to sound interested, helm tilted upwards, but neutral, even if she kept close, hugging the arm she was holding onto as she took another bite out of the oilcake, briefly letting her gaze wander the huge room.

No sign yet... She wasn't sure what she'd do if this--- No, she was busy.

Vents huffing in embarrassment, he quickly looked away, tires drawing together against his back as he examined the buffet table with extreme focus.

He was embarrassed and flustered, and that was only serving to irritate him when politics was added to the mix.

"...Nn. Examining the issues. Cutting through all the...backlogged protocol. I want to actually help people, not sit here and play political games."

His voice never rose above a murmur, still distantly aware of the crowd around them.

Instant a sense of failure suffused her; not the personal sort, but a prompt from her programming admonishing her for causing upset in a client. That was not supposed to happen. It wasn't something she was used to field, either, and it took Elita a moment or so to review it and attempt to recitfy the situation to silence it.

"... If you can do even half of what you say you want, I'm sure quite a few will thank you." Had any other Prime been like this? Had they simply failed to use the right entreaty to get this level of concern? Why was he so different, if he was?

Elita's voice was a soft murmur, revealing none of her internal doubt or struggle with what he was expressing as she briefly leaned up to rub a hand along the edge of the wheel-well in the Prime's shoulder.

The touch was unexpected, making his tires twitch before he allowed himself a hint of relaxation in his pose. He turned to give her a wry smile.

"It's not the thanks I want, it is the doing. Thanks mean nothing if I cannot do anything. I could be more forceful, I suppose, but I hardly want to present myself as anything like my more recent predecessors." He straightened up further, shaking his head as he regained control over the short lapse.

"But this is hardly the place to vent. I make for a terrible host; I apologize."

"Optimus, I'd like to point out that usually genuine thanks only comes after the actual help that has been rendered." She had almost called him "Prime" again, but since she had been given permission earlier, Elita managed to catch herself in time and gave another brief sgtroke to the base edge of the wheel-well before she settled down on her pedes again.

She wanted to continue this train of thought; would it not be better he be foreceful in the right areas--- She had a job to do. Elita smiled and shook her helm, curiously reaching for two energon goodies, offering him one before taking a bite out of the other herself. She wasn't sure, but she might prefer the oil cakes.

"If anyone should apologize, it is me. I'm here for you, so I apologize for any wrong step taken." He was not, neither technically nor at all, a host for Elita. She didn't really count as a guest here.

"I certainly hope they don't start thanking me before I can even get anything done. I get too much of that sort of thing as it is."

He vented a snort, amused, taking the offering and watching her eat the goodie without protest. Idly, he also noticed Ironhide hovering in the shadows nearby, politely out of audio range; which certainly wasn't far enough, given how he was able to send him a quick smirk when Elita touched his tire, as though it was something illicit. Optimus flicked his audials at him and pointedly looked away, to Ironhide's silent laughter.

"And you don't need to apologize. As far as I am concerned, you are a guest, and one a great deal more personable than many I could be with." Optimus flicked his optics toward the slowly-approaching senators pointedly. His smile, while still very mild and largely innocent, was the closest to 'flirtatious' he'd managed all night.

LET'S BREAK THIS THING IN

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looking up TF food on the wiki is oddly fun! :D

xD These things are always interesting~

YESSS

:D

:3

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*been the council's choice

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