(Untitled)
Characters: IDW Mirage, Open!
Content: In which Mirage feels homesick and takes a gamble on going home.
Location: Iacon Towers
Time of day: Morning
Warnings: None yet.
Status: (Active/Finished?) Finished.
( Read more... )
Content: In which Mirage feels homesick and takes a gamble on going home.
Location: Iacon Towers
Time of day: Morning
Warnings: None yet.
Status: (Active/Finished?) Finished.
( Read more... )
His attention span was starting to wane.
For one, he still wasn't sure if he was allowed to beat things up. He hadn't even gotten to attack the slug thing really! Mirage seemed pretty intent on getting his hands on the imposter thing first which meant Slag wasn't going to be able to play how he wanted to play.
Which meant he was starting to not care.
The elevator made a sound as they got closer to their destination, Slag's optics sliding to the small display that was showing the numbers as they passed each floor.
"Me Slag move fast. Me Slag promise to protect Mirage-bot so me will." For now at least. He shifted a bit as they finally got to the bottom floor and as soon as the doors opened the tricerabot moved outside and transformed into his root mode, scuffing the ground as he tossed his head. "Come! We find imposter and make pay!" he growled, horns glowing softly as flames licked as his snout before the Dinobot broke into a run, heading for the exit....that he had made big enough for himself upon his initial arrival earlier.
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He was only about halfway across the lobby when the other elevator door chimed as it opened, and Mirage quickly hid behind a decorative sculpture so he could watch them without the risk of being scanned. His disruptors were good, but he didn't want to take chances, especially not with the way they'd been fritzing lately.
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But before he could think too much, the elevator ground to a halt and the doors opened. Looking across, Mirage could see that the elevator to the East Tower had clearly arrived - and was empty.
Instantly, Mirage activated the electro disruptor, chastising himself for not doing so before. He was about to tell Slag that he'd changed his mind, that the Dinobot should remain in position and await his command whilst he investigated the situation, but there was no chance. Transforming, Slag surged forward.
"Slag!" Mirage hissed, avoiding any loud vocalization that would give away his physical location. The sound was, of course, lost in the noise of the Tricerabot's feet thindering over the marble floor and the sound of cracking as it gave way under his weight.
"Damn!" Mirage cursed. What was he just thinking about 'manners' and 'not a bad ally?' Nevertheless, arming the dart gun, the spy sprinted after him. As he went, he remembered the hole in the door. Maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe he would get Slag to guard the exit so that nobody and nothing went out of it.
If they weren't too late ....
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"Wheeljack!" the Dinobot announced in what could possibly be taken as a happy growl, Slag skidding to a slight halt as he reared up then slammed back down onto the ground. "Me feel Wheeljack! Me go find Wheeljack!"
Yeah. Apparently Mirage was forgotten for the moment.
Surging forward towards the door again, the Dinobot's swinging tail slammed into the sculpture that the other Mirage had been hiding behind, slamming said piece into the wall and shattering parts of it. Not that Slag cared. Nope! He was already out the door and on his way to find his creator.
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Not one to miss a chance at escape, Mirage jumped to his pedes as quickly as possible in an attempt to follow the dinobot out. After all, he was making enough noise and mess to cover the retreat of the whole damn Swarm! Luck, however, was not on his side, and a stray piece of the plaster got under foot.
Mirage was falling flat on his face before he could register his foot slipping, and the impact caused his electro-disruptors to flicker, revealing him for a moment before kicking back into full effect.
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But then .... "Nooooo ...! Mirage despaired as Slag's tail thrashed towards the statue, which in his 'verse was far from cheap, and one of his creator's favourite pieces. "Aarrrgghh .... !" The spy slapped a hand against his helm as it disintegrated into smithereens, for a few astroseconds more perturbed by this than the probable happy exit of the intruder.
Immediately, Slag was off again, the passage reverberating as his footsteps thundered, a sea of dust and chaos. Cursing, Mirage went to charge after him, intending to transform and roar up to him as soon as he got outside. But then, as the noise receded, he froze. The energy signature was suddenly vivid. And it was close. Very close. In fact, it was - right there amid the shattered plaster.
Before Mirage's inredulous optics, a dust covered figure rose from the chaos, then seemed to disintegrate. Mirage gaped as microseconds later, there was a crash, followed by a flash of blue and white and there appeared on the floor a figure. And now Mirage could see why the energy signature had been 'familiar.
It was an image of - himself! A different hue, admittedly, but himself nevertheless, and confirmed an instant later by the immediate disappearance of the form. An icy chill ran through the spy's spark. He knew, he just knew, that this was no imposter. And no Decepticon.
As the noise of Slag became a distant echo, a million questions were suddenly in Mirage's processor. But one thought was paramount. There was no way the guy was going to escape.
His sensor net prickling, his gun primed, Mirage advanced towards the spot on the floor, where the fallen plaster was scattering as though somebody was trying to get up. "Please- I mean no harm!" he said. "We need to talk .... whoever you are!"
Blasted invisibility devices! If only he could see him.
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"What do you intend to talk about?" he asked tersely, annoyed at being caught without his trusted weapon.
He took the moment to look his other self over. Blue optics, brighter colors, and an Autobot symbol on his chest. Chances were that this was the Mirage the Optimus Prime knew. If it was, he was in no danger. That didn't ease his paranoia or annoyance at all.
But Mirage didn't run. He stood to be examined, as he'd just done to the other, letting him take it all in. it was pretty obvious that this was the other's first time running into someone of another universe, while Mirage felt like an old hand at it by now.
And what of Slag? He'd seemed less than intelligent, and was excited by Wheeljack? That was peculiar. There must be some connection to them in this other strange universe.
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"Errr ..." said Mirage, unable to keep from scanning over the so-similar form, acutely aware of the other's gold optics glowing brightly. "Errr .... ughhh .... ehrrr ...."
Never in the whole history of his existence had the aristocrat been so lost for words.
And what did he want to talk about?
Mirage cleared his throat. "So you - uh - live here, then?" he asked, feeling instantly ridiculous because of course the guy lived here. This was him wasn't it?
Yet, Mirage still could not quite believe it. All right, this mech had airs and graces. And was clearly not riff raff. And could handle himself. And looked like him. But that was not proof! Towers education had left little room for anything but ultra logical, practical realism.
Besides, it was not really the point! Towers education also engendered a built in conviction that, as a Towers mech, one had a duty to deflect anyone who tried to "pull a fast one." Which most mechs invariably would. Including one's 'own kind.'
And other selves aside, there was no exception here! Besides, Mirage reminded himself, he had appearances to keep up! By the stars, he'd let those slip enough on Earth as it was!
"If you do - uh - live here, you just need to know it isn't possible!" he said, drawing himself up. "This is my home, you see! Has been since the days of Alpha Trion!"
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But this one certainly was defensive, wasn't he? Asking odd questions and getting up in arms about the entire situation...
"I do live here, and I assure you it is possible," he asserted himself finally, folding his arms uncomfortably over his chest, weight shifted slightly to one side to give him an heir of casual disapproval.
"The days of Alpha Trion?" That was slightly surprising. "And just how old are you?"
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Mirage tried to say this smoothly, but it came across as rather 'snappy.' The slender blue and white mech shifted awkwardly, annoyed at the other's confidence and even more by his own lack of it. Heck, that was how he had used to be! What had happened?
Earth, Mirage surmised. It must have been. The dreadful organicness of that place and his inability to adapt to it. And the war. Being 'one of the Autobots' and not special. Shameful!
In an attempt to rectify this lamentable state of affairs, Mirage adopted a similarly armfolded stance, jutting his chin out.
"And who says it's possible?" he demanded. "You? And how, pray tell, is it possible?"
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Maybe once he would have been up in arms about every little thing. He had been young and easily offended, ready to defend himself no matter how trivial the matter. Growing and getting out of the company of those who lived in the Towers had changed that, as had his training with the Autobots. He was grateful for the change.
"It is possible because I do," Mirage explained calmly and simply. The human phrase 'I think, therefore I am' came to mind. This other bot had shown he could think things through, therefore Mirage had no reason to doubt his existence. "I suppose I don't so much live here anymore, however. The Towers were destroyed where I hail from, and even if they weren't, Cybertron is uninhabitable. A base on Earth has been our home most recently."
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"I'm sorry to hear about your home," he said, "and that you, too, were subjected to the indignities of - that planet. I thought something had happened to our Cybertron too, but ...." he gestured around, "as you can see, everything is back to normal now!"
"Well - apart from that thing which attacked us just now, although I'm sure that was just a anomaly!" Mirage qualified hastily, remembering the impressive performance the other had put up. It sure would be useful to have him around in the event that it wasn't a one-off - especially since the Dinobot had disappeared.
The aristomech drew himself up again, careful to show off his royal blue and white paintwork. "Since it appears we're - related - somehow," he said stiffly, "I'm happy for you to remain in the East Tower for as long as you wish!"
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"'That' planet? Are you referring to Earth?" He asked, obviously amused. "I didn't think it was that terrible. The humans could do to learn some hospitality, however."
The colors were somewhat of a painful reminder, however. He'd once been that bright, light glinting off a flawless paint and wax job. He'd always kept himself in prime condition, flaunting his status in this modest yet obvious way. Then war had forced him into action, and he'd been forced to take a more subtle paint job so he wouldn't be a walking target, and even the paler blue and white had faded with time to his current grey and blue-grey. It was almost shameful.
"Ah, thank you for your kind offer-" sarcasm peppered his voice as he said that, "- but I think I would prefer to stick with the old fallback of safety in numbers. There is an Autobot base on the outskirts of the city where a fair number are gathering. You could accompany me back if you wished?"
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But he said nothing, and did not dwell on it. There were other, more important matters to consider. His mind went back to earlier, before the attack of the creature and the appearance of this other, to the strangeness he had felt and the view of the deserted city from the tower window.
The spy was forced to admit that he could not just pretend eveything was 'all right,' and that he still sadly lacked information. When the other mech said about the safety angle, Mirage was forced to agree - even if he did 'bristle' at the sarcasm.
But it would pay to be cautious. He thought of what Slag had said about the 'strange Autobots.' And heck, was this mech himself not something of an oddity, with the history he claimed to have?
"It sounds like a plan!" Mirage said, a little 'tersely.' "But would you mind telling me who, exactly - by that I mean which Autobots - are at this base? And why, exactly, they are gathering?"
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"Who? Optimus Prime, Prowl, Red Alert, Sideswipe, Perceptor, Hot Rod, Ironhide, Chromia, Jazz..." He trailed off, trying to remember the various bots he'd met or at least seen in passing. Naming the names he knew from not only this place, but also his own universe was more likely to ease the processor of the other. What a surprise he would be in for when they turned out to be completely different! Well, that wasn't completely true. Mirage had guessed that many of the bots were from the same place, and based on descriptions, this one was likely one of their own. But some of the ones with the odd frames...
"Shall we go, then?" Mirage persisted, gesturing towards the door the dinobot had left through.
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Yes, he certainly did want to catch up with such a large contingent of Autobots! Even if some of them did turn out to be more 'relations' of the ones from his own universe. He was certain Optimus Prime, at least, would turn out to be the genuine article. And if he wasn't - or if there was any other 'trouble' - why, Mirage would just disappear and beat a hasty retreat back here. And he wouldn't be letting anyone in!
Despite the lingering doubts, Mirage could not help but feel suddenly relieved, realizing that all along he had secretly been dreading it being only him here, with, perhaps, Slag and a few strangers. He determined not to show this, however.
"Indeed!" he said airily. "After you!"
The aristomech bowed his head politely. The one thing he most definitely was not going to do, whatever happened - now he'd discovered his ancestral home was still intact - was abandon the example he had a duty to set of good manners.
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