Log: Nova and Mirage - books.
Mirage: *Down the hall towards Nova's library, a blue and white racecar is walking, carrying a plain metal box in his arms. It's a rather large, flat box.*
Nova Prime: *As he always is, these days, the Prime is in his library/archive, going through the contents of the datapads Moonracer brought him. It's... pleasant work, one supposes, as it is keeping Nova pretty busy.*
Mirage: *There soon comes a tap on the door - it's a touch awkward, that tap, as Mirage can't precisely spare a hand with which to do it and so uses the edge of his foot, but nonetheless there it is.*
Nova Prime: *The place is empty - apart from Nova and the texts - so it's easy to hear the knock, odd as it might sound. He puts the datapad down, and glances towards the door. He didn't think he'd encountered anyone who knocked before they entered, before. Not in this place, at least.* Please enter. *Somewhat curiously spoken*
Mirage: Thank you. Half a moment... *Mirage engages in a bit of juggling with his burden so as to be able to open the door: even touchpads are somewhat difficult with no free hands, but eventually he does manage.*
Nova Prime: *Whoever it is, they sure have Nova's attention now. He waits patiently while the unknown mech does - whatever it is they do. When the doors open he smiles at the one standing there, especially when he spots what he's carrying*
Mirage: *And Mirage smiles back at the larger shuttle-type, politely, as he picks his way inside* I believe we spoke on the journal systems - I'm Mirage.
Nova Prime: *The memory stirs, and he stands up to greet him properly* Ah, yes, I remember. You mentioned you had some texts I might be interested in? *He nods at the book - he can fairly feel his fingers and wings twitch as he eyes it*
Mirage: Just the one, I'm afraid. I put it in another container for safekeeping... *Mirage looks around for a table to set it down on*
Nova Prime: I appreciate the one. *he gestures to the table he was just seated by, obviously pleased about Mirage coming here with it* Please, if you will.
Mirage: *And carefully, Mirage does.* Thank you. *He undoes the locks keeping the first box closed, and... ...Oh, yes, Nova is going to appreciate this. Even the original box for the book is a work of art, etched and inlaid and carved. There is some heavy damage to the corners, and more than a few dents - it did, after all, quite literally go through a war - but nothing that renders it unusable.*
Nova Prime: *Nova is indeed appreciating it, optics glinting as he takes in the exquisite detailing, his engine giving a very pleased rumble. It's with a veil of sadness that he observes the damage, but it is by far overshadow by the joy of seeing a book in this condition. It has been far too long since he has seen one.* Wonderful Simply wonderful.
Mirage: It's very kind of you to say so. *Mirage is very clearly enjoying Nova's enjoyment*
Nova Prime: Where did you acquire it? *is more focused on the masterpiece before him rather than the mech, alas*
Mirage: On Cybertron, in a bit of a lull during the war. *Mirage knows, and is perfectly fine with that. It is a masterpiece - it's been some time since he's unboxed it, himself*
Nova Prime: Mmm. It is quite a find. *He leans over the box for a closer inspection, feeling loathe to touch it just yet - even though there's no question about whether or not he will, this is an opportunity and a small blessing he doesn't want to fumble and lose. Idly he wonders if the book is looted, but then again, if it hadn't been it would've been lost, and that is a fate Nova would be horrified to learn about. He manages to tear his optics away from the text for long enough to give Mirage an appraising glance. Yes, the Cybertronian in front of him was almost as much as a find as the marvel before him.*
Mirage: So I thought, as well. *Mirage's voice is still light and politely conversational, but there's enough mourning around the edges that, yes, indicates this was no average looter. He certainly notices that appraising glance, but doesn't respond to it other than to perhaps straighten just a trifle.*
Nova Prime: *Optics may have narrowed slightly in appreciation of the fine example of Cybertronian aesthetics standing in the room with him before he turns back to the book, carefully tracing one of the more interesting patterns gently with a hand. He notes the tone Mirage uses, but doesn't enquire deeper into that matter, what's important is the fact that the book is lying here and waiting to be read - be seen and taken care of. If so, the two newly arrived has some things in common beyond being from their now-ruined home planet.*
Mirage: *Mirage waits without a single trace of impatience, enjoying Nova's appreciation of the book container and the anticipation of its opening to reveal the treasure inside.*
Nova Prime: *Slowly, carefully, he lifts the book up, wearing an almost reverent expression - even by book standards (which were usually pretty high), this one was... unique. Truly a cultural treasure. There's a soft sound from the Prime as he holds it in his hands, putting it down on the table with great care. A miracle of its own sort, really, this object. Wings spreading with grace, unconscioulsy wanting to shield it from the uncaring world.* Have you read it? *Absently, and curiously - never taking his rather intense gaze off of the book.*
Mirage: Only a few times. I've a copy of the contents on a datapad that's far better for, well. Casual reading. *The contents themselves seem to be a mixture of literature and poetry - someone's special commission, long ago.*
Nova Prime: Did you bring it with you? *That redirects his attention to Mirage, looking at the Ligier with just as much intensity as he did with the book; some of the almost-fever lingering, no doubt - though the Cybertronian does warrant some interest of his own. Hands still rest against the ornate cover, the wings doing another, more subtle, shift.* I would be be much obliged if I could have a copy.
Mirage: I'm afraid I neglected to bring it with me, but I can certainly arrange one for you. *Mirage takes the full brunt of that intensity with equinamity, looking up at the far larger mech without showing any signs of being overwhelmed by that regard.*
Nova Prime: *Nova is - very pleased, by Mirage's outward lack of fear. He studies him more thoroughly, optics narrowing slightly as they sweep across his body, the delicate features and the configuration, not losing much of the power in his look or stance. There was something...familiar about Mirage's lines, and his voice is thoughtful and deep when he asks his question.* Which city were you from, at Cybertron? *He glances over the mech again, noting the slightly hidden elegance there.*
Mirage: The Towers, outside Iacon. *Mirage's tone of voice shifts to something slightly more guarded, but still polite. He did not terribly enjoy that head-to-toe evaluation, though to his credit he didn't flinch, and he seldom gets a terribly good reaction from mechs when he relates that tidbit.*
Nova Prime: *An approving nod, still regarding Mirage's body. It's less appreciating and more calculating.* Ire-dregas? *He mentions the name with an assured tone, pretty certain that Mirage comes from that particular part of the Towers.*
Mirage: *The calculation is precisely why Mirage is not terribly comfortable with it, but he still doesn't 'back down.' It's a remarkably direct evaluation; Mirage's own is rather more subtle.* Ire-dregas III, yes. I'm afraid you have the advantage of me as far as build lines are concerned...?
Nova Prime: *Usually it's a lot better hidden, but when his massive interest got roused by the book and the mech it became merely subtle at best. Nova looks satisfied and maybe a little smug as his guess is confirmed, his knowledge and recognifion the now-lost (in his opinion) art of making transformers. He's tempted to have Mirage do one of the more basic dances taught at the Towers to see how well he was made, but desists.* Ah, yes. I'm from Iari-helika, myself. *Like one artisan to another*
Mirage: *Mirage brightens a little, shoulder-wheels coming up. This is far more comfortable territory for him.* Oh, Iari-helika - I've been there. It had the most lovely statuary...
Nova Prime: It had quite a lot of high-standard art, yes. *with the tone of someone who had appreciated it, but still had seen it every day - thus making it less special, somehow. There's a flicker of regret over his expression.* Tell me, when were you sparked? *still direct, yes, but with a polite note to it.*
Mirage: *Mirage is inwardly puzzled by that almost-dismissal, having had more than enough time missing home to love all over again everything in it, but perhaps Nova is not so closely tied to place as Mirage has found himself to be.* In the 234563th vorn of Sentinel Prime's reign. Why do you ask?
Nova Prime: *Mmm, of a decent age, then, Mirage was. So much younger than himself - but then again, the Cybertronians that were sparked under the same Prime as he was were few and far between. Such a shame, really, never having the opportunity to see the Cybertron from his days, superior and magnificent - turned to dust, now.* A mere curiousity, *he relents, though the other's age explained the subtle changes from what Nova had considered to be pure Ire-dregas lines.*
Mirage: Of course. *Mirage accepts that polite little fiction with one of his own. The dance is starting to come back to him, though he's not quite sure what to make of it in this context. So, in search of another conversational topic, he takes the time to look around at the in-progress library.* I must say I'm glad that you've taken the time to collect all of this. I would hate to see it lost...
Nova Prime: That was what I was hoping to avoid. *To see all of the culture of Cybertron lost - so much is recorded and learned from books and texts, after all.* Cybertron is... dear to me. *and there, genuine affection is shining through, like he's talking about the most precious thing in his spark - which he very well might be.* Was, at least. *resignation* I have always had a fondness for literature, I must admit.
Mirage: *Mirage smiles. It could be termed a 'brilliant' smile if not for the regret and acknowledgment of loss behind it.* As do I. Have you any particular favorites?
Nova Prime: *He notes the emotions staining the other's smile, but doesn't take too long before he answers the question. It's safe to say that he's old enough to know his own taste in literature by now.* I have a certain weakness for Swivel's Rust of the Commons, and its companion works. I find them to be an interesting read. Some of his earlier works, too, was quite enjoyable.
Mirage: I'm familiar with Rust of the Commons, but not Swivel's earlier works...? *Mirage is all interest. It's been some time since he's had someone to discuss literature with.*
Nova Prime: They are from before Sentinel's time. *a certain intonation there, yes you are that young, Mirage.* They are more poetic, clearly from when Swivel was developing his later style that he's so known for. I would recommend the Journey of Nedere. The language he uses and the philosophical observations are very intriguing. Different, however, from the Rust of the Commons.
Mirage: *Mirage didn't particularly need reminding of that, but as it may be.* Really? Are they more or less structured? That struck me most about Rust of the Commons.
Nova Prime: The Journey of Nedere is somewhat messy in its structure, I have to admit, but it is still a read worth your time. It was one of the major influences for Evigarde's great epos, I'm not sure if you are familiar with it? If you prefer more texts resembling the Rust, however, you might want to try Ber-rikan. It's a rather short story, but interesting.
Mirage: Oh, of course I know Evigarde's work. I hadn't known that she took so much inspiration from Swivel, though.
Nova Prime: It can hard to tell, if you haven't read the earlier works. *he hmms thoughtfully* Have you read the collections of Mantir? He was reformatted, and his work changed drastically afterwards, as one would expect. It was said that he used to have an affair with Evigarde before the reformat, and while it would explain some of the more obscure references in her work I doubt it myself. A one-sided thing, perhaps.
Mirage: Bits and pieces of Mantir; I can't say I cared for his post-formatting work a great deal. Too... *Mirage flicks a hand and trails off, apparently letting the gesture and tone speak for themselves.*
Nova Prime: Mmm, yes, I know what you mean. Personally, I found his change of style to be refreshing. The radicalness of Oever's Recollations was very uplifting. A lot less linear than the earlier texts, too. *with deliberate bland tones: * Tell me, what did you think of Sookar's decision in the Rust?
Mirage: It's not what I would have done, I admit, but Swivel established the background and foreshadowing well enough to make it explicable. The entire premise of Sookar's chapters is one that... doesn't quite feel like level road to me.
Nova Prime: *nods, looking like he knows what Mirage means, but doesn't offer his own opinion on the matter. Nova does, after all, hold some ideological views that weren't exactly considered liberal or even popular - not anymore, at least.* Did you agree with the general message of the story? *expectant, and watchful expression. Some kind of test, perhaps?*
Mirage: Truthfully, I found a lot of it quite lateral to my own thinking and experiences. Perhaps the times changed. *Mirage is quite aware that he is, yet again, being tested in some form or fashion, and doubtless his expression shows that he's aware.*
Nova Prime: I see... Very interesting. *and now he is giving Mirage a scrutinzing look, giving him no signs of whether or not he has passed, or even if it was passable. A subtle shift of wings and the gase eases up, seemingly having found what he was looking for. Casually, as if things hadn't just been as chock full of undercurrents as they had-* Yes, the times has indeed changed.
Mirage: *Mirage endures that scrutiny with calm equinamity - either he 'passed' the former Prime's examination, or he didn't; it's not something he is terribly nervous about.* And doubtless shall continue to do so.
Nova Prime: *It isn't as if Mirage has any chance of affecting the decision made, and Nova really didn't do it for Mirage's benefit. That would be the day.* Beyond doubt. *satisfied for now with the racecar, he turns his attention back to what really mattered - the book the Autobot had brought him, splaying his fingers out on the cover (carefully, of course) before brushing over the details to the edge. Slowly, he has no rush and if Mirage does it's none of his concern, he opens the book and reads the first page - containing nothing important but still (in Nova's opinion) worth reading.*
Mirage: *The book is in far better repair than the box: decorated or not, the container has done its job to preserve its contents, each page embellished with engraved and tiny flexible inlaid wire detailing.* Shall I leave you to your reading, then? I know that it will be well taken care of here.
Nova Prime: If you would, please. *Nova doesn't look away from the page, however, he's done with Mirage for now, and thus the interest in him has waned considerably. Though, before he forgets- * And I would appreciate a copy of that datapad you mentioned. *not really a question, but rather an expectation that he will get the copy within the week - preferably day.*
Mirage: Of course. *Itcertainly won't be within the next day, not given the tone of voice Nova used just now.* Perhaps I'll borrow your copy of the Journey of Nedere then as well. Until then... *And Mirage begins to show himself out.*
Nova Prime: *glances at the Ligier, face neutral. Maybe there was something in the other's tone he didn't like, or maybe it's just a look. In either case, he nods - politely, though it shows the years of being the matrix-bearer.* I'll make sure to have it ready for you, Mirage. And thank you for bringing the book - it was most kind. *pleasantly bland voice*
Mirage: I hope you enjoy it. *That's actually quite sincere.*
Nova Prime: I suspect I will. *brief smile, and a light shift in stance. You are dismissed, Mirage.* Till next time, then.
Mirage: Until next time. *And Mirage shows himself out.*