One brick at a time
Title: Towers
Rating: K
Characters: Mirage, Cliffjumper, Spike, Dinobots
Warnings: None
Summary: Life is about the little moments as much as it is the big adventures.
Author: Rose0mary
Genre: Family Fun
Series: Generation 1
Spring came and went unnoticed by the Transformers. Summer's hot days were welcomed by some, but not all. The long hours of light and heat appealed to the Dinobots who converted the solar radiation into crude energon. Other Autobots saw the end of the school year in a different light. No school, no school visits - and no messy elementary kids climbing all over their spotless finishes. No school hours, more time out on the open road, making friends, getting car-waxes, or just hanging out in the arcade.
The Ark crew had already experienced two years on earth, and thought they were prepared for the sudden change in pace, and the extended, overnight visits from their human friends. They were talking about normal concerns - like Decepticon attacks, Decepticon sightings, and mentally gearing up for battles and conflicts that hadn't happened yet - and treating the first week of June like they treated all weekdays from September to May.
Then, Grimlock stomped his way into the Rec room. The Dinobots all stomped - that's how they normally walked. His appearance in the Rec Room was normal. Almost typical. What was unusual, was the fact Grimlock was alone.
The T-Rex did not head towards the energon dispenser. He stood in the doorway, looking for one mech in particular. The relaxing Autobots tensed, wondering if Grimlock was going to challenge Prime to a fight for leadership. Again.
"Mirage - you come tomorrow?" asked Grimlock upon spying the bot he sought. "Spike back. Bring new book. Tell us of human stuff."
"Sure Grimlock. I'll be there." Mirage promised.
"Good" Grimlock exited.
The audience blinked, stunned. The Dinobots rarely entered the Rec-Room without getting energon, and they never sought out the company of others. Wheeljack and Ratchet did not count! Cliffjumper happened to be the most articulate, saying "uh, wha?"
Mirage's cube of energon sat on the tabletop, empty. "I happen to like listening to The Storyteller; haven't missed an opportunity since the first time I stumbled upon Spike explaining his 'reading assignment' to Grimlock and his team. It reminds me of home." He got up and left the table, letting the others slowly find their vocalizes. Talk of Decepticon sightings were put on hold, as this new development percolated through their stunned processors. If anyone picked up on the significance of the word 'home' instead of Mirage's usual word choice of 'the Towers', no one mentioned it, preferring to let their unsupported rumors and theories run rampant.
Mirage knew few of the Mechs here believed his statement. They'd talk, regardless if he was present or not, ignoring his gentle corrections and softly spoken 'no, you've got it wrong'. Best he absent himself before the old habits of defending himself and his past choices escalated into an argument and break out into a fight. Without his presence in the rec-room, the emotions wouldn't get so strained, and the talks could remain friendly, even when the debate turned heated.
Mirage had a feeling Cliffjumper and select others would bring up 'The Towers' and he really did not want to listen to their erroneous assumptions again. He'd lived in the towers, experiencing life at the top of the social level few alive could imagine. Yes, he'd been indulged as a youngling, and yes, he'd been ideological once, but so had they.
Hound wanted Mirage to keep The Towers alive - their false assurance, the lies and common beliefs that life at the top was more desirable than a simple existence. Trailbreaker and others like Hound thought they were doing Mirage a favor by helping him remember what he was fighting for. Mirage disagreed. Some of the Noble customs he would teach, but not everything. It was too much for one mech to remember. Better to let the loss go, and allow the new generation to forge their own paths, traditions. Holding onto the past only made him bitter and resentful. Mirage, though he did miss Cybertron, knew the planet in his memories did not match up to reality. With the Decepticons in no position to wage war, the Autobots could rebuild, making it better than before, not as a reflection of the past.
Mirage settled in his quarters, and relaxed. He would wake in time.
The roaring of a Triceratops, the loud thunder of heavy Dinobots walking about, echoed through the base, waking Mirage and others. Some Autobots got up, resigned to being shaken out of recharge early. Some shook their heads, slipped back into recharge, amused with the antics of the large primitive mechs. Mirage welcomed the wake-up call, for it meant he wouldn't be late. He stepped out, followed the fading echoes, in no hurry. Spike had the whole summer off, and didn't need to condense a week's worth of activity into a few short hours.
As he walked down the corridors, following the Dinobot's boisterous welcoming, Mirage engaged his disruptor field automatically. Two turns later, Mirage realized what he did: he'd turned himself invisible. Mirage frowned, glad his expression wasn't observed, and cleared his face of negative motions before turning off the dirupter field. He put a flag on the mod, so that habits wouldn't cause him to hide from the world. Let the Ark Crew talk.
"Hello Spike." Mirage tipped his head down, expecting to see the human teenager on the ground. Humans were smaller than the average sized mech, and unless one was in car mode, Autobots naturally towered over the inhabitants of this world. Both sides had to learn to adjust to the natural height difference - some adapted sooner than others, but they adapted.
"Hey, Mirage! It's good to see you. Now, put me down!" Spike laughed, dangling from Slag's arms. "Slag!"
"Me Slag say no! Want to hear story!". The massive Dinobot stomped his foot, almost squishing Spike's bag.
Spiek squirmed, trying to get comfortable in the metal grip. "I can't read the story."
"Why not?"
Mirage slid next to the Dinobot, carefully picked up Spike's bookbag before it could be ground into the hard earth. "He needs the book, first."
"Oh. Me Slag sorry." Slag set his passenger down, stepped back. The other Dinobots settled in the grassy clearing by the secondary entrance. "Okay to read now?" Slag didn't wait for an answer, walking around the small organic and Mirage to join the other Dinobots.
Spike shook his head. "Yeah, thanks." The human kid looked around for his book-bag, half-expecting to see it trampled underfoot. "Hey, Mirage, have you seen - oh, Thanks."
Mirage let the bag dangle from his fingertips, the precious belongings held right at eye-level. "Want a ride?"
Spike looked up at Mirage, an odd look crossing his face. "Why? You're not headed into town are you?"
"No. I mearly meant, I can carry you over to the Storyteller's circle."
The frown still existed on Spike's face, though not as strongly. "I really should walk - bad enough everyone jumps to drive me everywhere when I need to get somewhere. Don't need you or anyone else giving me special treatment." Spike belatedly noticed how far ahead Slag had gotten, and ran, instead of walked, to the area set aside for him and others who read aloud. There was always a captive audience when a Storyteller arrived.
Mirage didn't need to speed up. His much larger size enabled him to keep up with the human easily. He scanned the area, mentally frowning. Only the five Dinobots had arrived? Where was everyone else? Not that there was anything wrong with Grimlock's team, but Spike's visits were always highly anticipated.
Spike reached the stone podium, scaled the rough rock walls. There were stairs on the other side, he just chose to ignore the available steps. Spike sat down on the smooth top. "Is everybody here?" he asked, pulling out a thin, worn paper-back book. He did not seem dismayed by the small audience. Listening to humans as they recounted the written stories they like best, was optional. "My dad heard I finished reading The Lord Of The Ring trilogy and suggested this series. He even let me borrow his collection." Spike cleared his throat.
"The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe" Spike began, introducing the story-title first. He soon became engrosed in telling the tale, he did not notice as the rest of the off-duty mechs slowly emerged from the Ark and settled down around him and the small core group of dedicated listeners.
Spike, being blind and deaf to the radio-like signals his robotic friends emitted, could not hear the unvoiced mutterings, and the private conversations ran something like 'whoa, Mirage is here?' 'I thought Grimlock was joking' 'Is that who I think it is?'. Mirage heard it all, ignored it. Some were wanting him to create a fuss. Others didn't realize their transmissions were leaking, or that their encryptions were not working properly.
Cliffjumper didn't bother sitting down. He did not fancy getting any closer to the Dinobot tails or the Dinobots themselves. Most sane mechs gave those particular monstrosities a wide berth. The red minibot eyed the very visible form of Mirage sitting next to Snarl, clearly enjoying the Storyteller's thrall. He wasn't blind. Cliffjumper knew by the way Swoop and Grimlock accepted Mirage's presence and place (right between the two, right up front) that this was not the first time the elusive bot has listened with them.
"Brawn, Mirage told the truth when he said he made it a practice to join Storyteller Hour."
Brawn snorted. "You were expecting otherwise, Cliffjumper?"
"I've never seen him here, before!"
Mirage pinged Cliffjumper. "You are talking about the one bot who can turn himself invisible - of course no one saw me."
Cliffjumper pinged right back. "Well, how'd the Dinobots know?"
"They don't rely solely on optics. We've got more sensors than the visual - they use them, why can't we?" Mirage stoutly ignored Cliffjumper's further attempts to start a fight. This was a time to listen and learn from fragile allies - to be tossed into a world of their making, and to join them in adventures written long ago. Not a time to argue and fight among themselves.
Rating: K
Characters: Mirage, Cliffjumper, Spike, Dinobots
Warnings: None
Summary: Life is about the little moments as much as it is the big adventures.
Author: Rose0mary
Genre: Family Fun
Series: Generation 1
Spring came and went unnoticed by the Transformers. Summer's hot days were welcomed by some, but not all. The long hours of light and heat appealed to the Dinobots who converted the solar radiation into crude energon. Other Autobots saw the end of the school year in a different light. No school, no school visits - and no messy elementary kids climbing all over their spotless finishes. No school hours, more time out on the open road, making friends, getting car-waxes, or just hanging out in the arcade.
The Ark crew had already experienced two years on earth, and thought they were prepared for the sudden change in pace, and the extended, overnight visits from their human friends. They were talking about normal concerns - like Decepticon attacks, Decepticon sightings, and mentally gearing up for battles and conflicts that hadn't happened yet - and treating the first week of June like they treated all weekdays from September to May.
Then, Grimlock stomped his way into the Rec room. The Dinobots all stomped - that's how they normally walked. His appearance in the Rec Room was normal. Almost typical. What was unusual, was the fact Grimlock was alone.
The T-Rex did not head towards the energon dispenser. He stood in the doorway, looking for one mech in particular. The relaxing Autobots tensed, wondering if Grimlock was going to challenge Prime to a fight for leadership. Again.
"Mirage - you come tomorrow?" asked Grimlock upon spying the bot he sought. "Spike back. Bring new book. Tell us of human stuff."
"Sure Grimlock. I'll be there." Mirage promised.
"Good" Grimlock exited.
The audience blinked, stunned. The Dinobots rarely entered the Rec-Room without getting energon, and they never sought out the company of others. Wheeljack and Ratchet did not count! Cliffjumper happened to be the most articulate, saying "uh, wha?"
Mirage's cube of energon sat on the tabletop, empty. "I happen to like listening to The Storyteller; haven't missed an opportunity since the first time I stumbled upon Spike explaining his 'reading assignment' to Grimlock and his team. It reminds me of home." He got up and left the table, letting the others slowly find their vocalizes. Talk of Decepticon sightings were put on hold, as this new development percolated through their stunned processors. If anyone picked up on the significance of the word 'home' instead of Mirage's usual word choice of 'the Towers', no one mentioned it, preferring to let their unsupported rumors and theories run rampant.
Mirage knew few of the Mechs here believed his statement. They'd talk, regardless if he was present or not, ignoring his gentle corrections and softly spoken 'no, you've got it wrong'. Best he absent himself before the old habits of defending himself and his past choices escalated into an argument and break out into a fight. Without his presence in the rec-room, the emotions wouldn't get so strained, and the talks could remain friendly, even when the debate turned heated.
Mirage had a feeling Cliffjumper and select others would bring up 'The Towers' and he really did not want to listen to their erroneous assumptions again. He'd lived in the towers, experiencing life at the top of the social level few alive could imagine. Yes, he'd been indulged as a youngling, and yes, he'd been ideological once, but so had they.
Hound wanted Mirage to keep The Towers alive - their false assurance, the lies and common beliefs that life at the top was more desirable than a simple existence. Trailbreaker and others like Hound thought they were doing Mirage a favor by helping him remember what he was fighting for. Mirage disagreed. Some of the Noble customs he would teach, but not everything. It was too much for one mech to remember. Better to let the loss go, and allow the new generation to forge their own paths, traditions. Holding onto the past only made him bitter and resentful. Mirage, though he did miss Cybertron, knew the planet in his memories did not match up to reality. With the Decepticons in no position to wage war, the Autobots could rebuild, making it better than before, not as a reflection of the past.
Mirage settled in his quarters, and relaxed. He would wake in time.
The roaring of a Triceratops, the loud thunder of heavy Dinobots walking about, echoed through the base, waking Mirage and others. Some Autobots got up, resigned to being shaken out of recharge early. Some shook their heads, slipped back into recharge, amused with the antics of the large primitive mechs. Mirage welcomed the wake-up call, for it meant he wouldn't be late. He stepped out, followed the fading echoes, in no hurry. Spike had the whole summer off, and didn't need to condense a week's worth of activity into a few short hours.
As he walked down the corridors, following the Dinobot's boisterous welcoming, Mirage engaged his disruptor field automatically. Two turns later, Mirage realized what he did: he'd turned himself invisible. Mirage frowned, glad his expression wasn't observed, and cleared his face of negative motions before turning off the dirupter field. He put a flag on the mod, so that habits wouldn't cause him to hide from the world. Let the Ark Crew talk.
"Hello Spike." Mirage tipped his head down, expecting to see the human teenager on the ground. Humans were smaller than the average sized mech, and unless one was in car mode, Autobots naturally towered over the inhabitants of this world. Both sides had to learn to adjust to the natural height difference - some adapted sooner than others, but they adapted.
"Hey, Mirage! It's good to see you. Now, put me down!" Spike laughed, dangling from Slag's arms. "Slag!"
"Me Slag say no! Want to hear story!". The massive Dinobot stomped his foot, almost squishing Spike's bag.
Spiek squirmed, trying to get comfortable in the metal grip. "I can't read the story."
"Why not?"
Mirage slid next to the Dinobot, carefully picked up Spike's bookbag before it could be ground into the hard earth. "He needs the book, first."
"Oh. Me Slag sorry." Slag set his passenger down, stepped back. The other Dinobots settled in the grassy clearing by the secondary entrance. "Okay to read now?" Slag didn't wait for an answer, walking around the small organic and Mirage to join the other Dinobots.
Spike shook his head. "Yeah, thanks." The human kid looked around for his book-bag, half-expecting to see it trampled underfoot. "Hey, Mirage, have you seen - oh, Thanks."
Mirage let the bag dangle from his fingertips, the precious belongings held right at eye-level. "Want a ride?"
Spike looked up at Mirage, an odd look crossing his face. "Why? You're not headed into town are you?"
"No. I mearly meant, I can carry you over to the Storyteller's circle."
The frown still existed on Spike's face, though not as strongly. "I really should walk - bad enough everyone jumps to drive me everywhere when I need to get somewhere. Don't need you or anyone else giving me special treatment." Spike belatedly noticed how far ahead Slag had gotten, and ran, instead of walked, to the area set aside for him and others who read aloud. There was always a captive audience when a Storyteller arrived.
Mirage didn't need to speed up. His much larger size enabled him to keep up with the human easily. He scanned the area, mentally frowning. Only the five Dinobots had arrived? Where was everyone else? Not that there was anything wrong with Grimlock's team, but Spike's visits were always highly anticipated.
Spike reached the stone podium, scaled the rough rock walls. There were stairs on the other side, he just chose to ignore the available steps. Spike sat down on the smooth top. "Is everybody here?" he asked, pulling out a thin, worn paper-back book. He did not seem dismayed by the small audience. Listening to humans as they recounted the written stories they like best, was optional. "My dad heard I finished reading The Lord Of The Ring trilogy and suggested this series. He even let me borrow his collection." Spike cleared his throat.
"The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe" Spike began, introducing the story-title first. He soon became engrosed in telling the tale, he did not notice as the rest of the off-duty mechs slowly emerged from the Ark and settled down around him and the small core group of dedicated listeners.
Spike, being blind and deaf to the radio-like signals his robotic friends emitted, could not hear the unvoiced mutterings, and the private conversations ran something like 'whoa, Mirage is here?' 'I thought Grimlock was joking' 'Is that who I think it is?'. Mirage heard it all, ignored it. Some were wanting him to create a fuss. Others didn't realize their transmissions were leaking, or that their encryptions were not working properly.
Cliffjumper didn't bother sitting down. He did not fancy getting any closer to the Dinobot tails or the Dinobots themselves. Most sane mechs gave those particular monstrosities a wide berth. The red minibot eyed the very visible form of Mirage sitting next to Snarl, clearly enjoying the Storyteller's thrall. He wasn't blind. Cliffjumper knew by the way Swoop and Grimlock accepted Mirage's presence and place (right between the two, right up front) that this was not the first time the elusive bot has listened with them.
"Brawn, Mirage told the truth when he said he made it a practice to join Storyteller Hour."
Brawn snorted. "You were expecting otherwise, Cliffjumper?"
"I've never seen him here, before!"
Mirage pinged Cliffjumper. "You are talking about the one bot who can turn himself invisible - of course no one saw me."
Cliffjumper pinged right back. "Well, how'd the Dinobots know?"
"They don't rely solely on optics. We've got more sensors than the visual - they use them, why can't we?" Mirage stoutly ignored Cliffjumper's further attempts to start a fight. This was a time to listen and learn from fragile allies - to be tossed into a world of their making, and to join them in adventures written long ago. Not a time to argue and fight among themselves.