Mirage-3
Rookie
Totally Not The Geezer
Posts: 222
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Post by Mirage-3 on Jun 11, 2008 23:34:54 GMT -5
"Some mech go bug-fraggin' nuts if they can't transform for an extended period of time. Would you want to give someone that much strength and power and risk them going crazy all over your aft? Besides, it's not like you're a paragon of stability to start with." Perhaps the energon is affecting Mirage a bit more than he realizes. There is more "Street Rat" creeping into his tone and much less "Successful Entrepreneur" Also what little tact he possesses has fallen by the wayside. With an almost innocent look, Mirage answers Rodimus, "Why I simply thought once they fixed it, we might appropriate it for our own uses. After all, Prime, you can be very...persuasive." Another sip, and Mirage once again scans the crowd. The expression that settles on his face is at once amused and cruel. A look that is similar, too similar, to the look often seen on the Prime's face. "Bluestreak, since you obviously feel the need to play kiss-aft to those that outrank you tonight, why don't you take Kup a fresh cube and give him someone better to talk to than that lumbering brute who almost stepped on him?" OOC: This is completely Mirage being a jackaft, and Bluestreak is free to remain in thread or not. Entirely up to you. Unless Rodimus overrules that of course.
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Post by Rodimus Prime-3 on Jun 12, 2008 9:41:54 GMT -5
The amusement in Rodimus's own expression increases as he listens to Mirage address Bluestreak. My, but it didn't take much to get him in this state tonight. The brew is particularly potent, it seems.
And then Mirage tries to send Bluestreak off to talk to Kup. Rodimus grins and looks over towards the elder, expression one of mock-consideration. "Hmm. His current cube is a little low, isn't it? I'd say he could certainly use a refill..." he trails off thoughtfully.
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Post by Bluestreak-3 on Jun 12, 2008 23:36:10 GMT -5
Bluestreak glowers at Mirage, as if trying to blast lasers from his optics and incinerate him on the spot. He already knows he's playing kiss-aft, Mirage doesn't need to point it out. And Kup is just so... not the Prime.
But then Rodimus speaks, and Bluestreak interprets his considering tone (probably incorrectly) as an order. He offers the Prime a parting salute, then goes to collect another cube and heads off in Kup's direction. The drink has taken hold now, however, and his gait is rather unsteady as he goes. Kup'll be lucky to still get a full cube and not one that's been half-splashed all over Bluestreak's front.
OOC: Out of thread, heading towards "Slicker Than Oil"
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Mirage-3
Rookie
Totally Not The Geezer
Posts: 222
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Post by Mirage-3 on Jun 13, 2008 9:03:54 GMT -5
This Mirage, like his alternate, can hold his energon quite well. The high-grade is a potent blend yes,- but it is the additives that have lowered his inhibitions and caused his speech patterns to devolve. Whichever chemist is responsible for this particular combo should be happy; Mirage hasn't even realized he's been affected.
Bluestreak's glare is met with an amused smile, one that widens as the Datsun scurries unsteadily off to do as his Prime didn't quite command. Mirage glances sideways at Rodimus once they are alone again, "You're in a rare mood. Wouldn't think you'd want to reward Kup, after the mess with the plans, not to mention letting that crazy plant witch through the other day." Mirage's tone grows perhaps a tad too mocking as he speaks, "Of course, Primus alone knows how your mind works," Mirage snorts, "Or maybe not him alone."
Mirage finishes the contents of his drink in one long swallow. He eyes his now empty cube.
"Of course, we have now deprived ourselves of our waiter. Bugger. You want a refill, Rodimus?"
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Post by Rodimus Prime-3 on Jun 13, 2008 17:41:31 GMT -5
The Prime narrows his optics at the mocking tone, but the expression doesn't stay long. "Why shouldn't I be in a rare mood?" Rodimus grins down at Mirage. "It's been a very good day, minor setbacks aside. Kup's chosen to take responsibility for the mistake, possibly because he knows how little patience I have with finger pointing and blame laying, possibly because he can take more punishment than most. And... he will. But no need to hurry, and the longer he waits, the more he'll worry."
"Besides, it gets Bluestreak out from underfoot." As much as the Prime enjoys the eagerness, there's really only so much exposure he needs.
Rodimus looks at his own cube, and sees that it's almost empty. He nods. "Mmmm. Yes, I believe I do."
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Perceptor-3
Rookie
Curiosity killed... everyone else. After a lengthy examination, of course.
Posts: 139
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Post by Perceptor-3 on Jun 14, 2008 12:11:33 GMT -5
Bluestreak isn't the only one interested in basking in the Prime's presence. Loathe as he is to admit it, Perceptor is finding himself a bit wanting for that low hum of fury washing through him, as well. The Prime is like a drug to his systems, one he knows that he should avoid, and yet... the memories of those last few moments of his healing continue to prick at him, filling him with a tense want.
Perhaps there is more than one reason for the particular... additive he'd seen fit to toss into the mix tonight.
"Perhaps I might be of some small service, in that case," he interjects smoothly as he glides into their midst with a pair of fresh cubes which he offers to them - Rodimus first, of course. "Untouched by Mixmaster," Perceptor assures them, and the very subtle air of haughty derision in his tone speaks volumes of his opinion for the giggling amateur.
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Mirage-3
Rookie
Totally Not The Geezer
Posts: 222
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Post by Mirage-3 on Jun 14, 2008 16:13:46 GMT -5
Mirage nods and starts to turn away and head to the refreshment table, only to be cut off by the sudden appearance of Perceptor. Perceptor, who has been but recently shown what it means to belong to the Prime. Perceptor, who comes bearing drinks.
Mirage does not hesitate to take the drink offered, though as before he does not drink immediately. He eyes Perceptor speculatively, optics slightly narrowed, and he unconsciously moves closer to Rodimus, tries to rest his free hand on Rodimus' hip. Possessive gestures Mirage is barely aware he is making.
"Well, well, the freshly tamed, come to curry favor," Mirage's tone is low, mocking, slightly vicious, "How does that new collar feel, Perceptor? Tight enough for you?"
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Post by Rodimus Prime-3 on Jun 15, 2008 18:02:20 GMT -5
Untouched by Mixmaster. Oh, like that's a reassurance around here. Still, Rodimus accepts the cube, a smug smile plastered on his face. Whatever Perceptor might want to do to him, he doubts it's deadly.
"Why, thank you, Perceptor," he says, tone too polite, before he takes a long sip.
He doesn't move when Mirage attempts to set a hand on his hip, and his smile grows even wider at the spy's nips at the scientist.
Oh, but the night's entertainment has started in full, hasn't it?
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Perceptor-3
Rookie
Curiosity killed... everyone else. After a lengthy examination, of course.
Posts: 139
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Post by Perceptor-3 on Jun 15, 2008 19:20:07 GMT -5
It should be reassuring; Mixmaster has a vested interest in incapacitating Rodimus Prime and his Autobots, while Perceptor, for all that he hates this new leash upon him, is far more concerned with keeping his Prime happy. "You are quite welcome, Prime."
Ah, and the possessive cur hikes his metaphorical leg. How... quaint.
So close to Rodimus, the bitter irritation at the hound's jabs sharpens to simmering fury, boiling just under that carefully schooled surface as Perceptor struggles against the impulse to smash that nasty-edged smirk from Mirage's features. He forces his hands to relax, forces the tension out of his body by main force, even as he assumes a pleasant mask of bored civility.
"How curious," Perceptor murmurs, leaning in to peer at Mirage with the same intensity that the scientist normally reserves for a new and unknown subject. "You speak of the gift as a burden, and yet you cleave to as pathetically as any passe pet that fears being replaced by... one better. Perhaps by one... newer."
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Mirage-3
Rookie
Totally Not The Geezer
Posts: 222
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Post by Mirage-3 on Jun 15, 2008 20:30:36 GMT -5
Mirage stiffens slightly as Perceptor's words call attention to those tiny movements of the spy's. He hadn't realized...the fingers resting on the Prime's hip twitch as yellow optics meet blue. Oh, Mirage does hate Perceptor, and every bit of that hatred shows in that gaze, though the smirk never falters.
In fact, the smirk grows wider, turning into a full-fledged smile as cruel as any that may have graced the Prime's lips. Mirage's arm slides around Rodimus' hips, and the hound presses closer to his master's side. At the same time, Mirage leans forward, tilts his head up into that too-bored face tilted down at him.
"Oh it is a burden, Perceptor, not a gift, and if you have not realized that yet then you have less than a quarter of the intelligence I credit you with." Mirage leans even closer, close enough that his lips might just brush Perceptor's jaw as he continues, "Or maybe you like being owned."
Mirage leans away, sips at his cube, "Also- I. Am not. A pet." Another sip. "Call me that again, and I'll give the Prime an excuse to bind you even tighter."
OOC: hanging on Rodimus-3 done w/ permission.
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Post by Rodimus Prime-3 on Jun 15, 2008 21:21:47 GMT -5
The Prime says nothing. He neither leans into Mirage's embrace, nor does he pull away from it. The expression settles on a faint smirk and stays fixed there as he watches Perceptor and Mirage bicker. Until Mirage says one thing. Burden, not a gift?
He lifted his hand and rubs his thumb gently down Mirage's back. Oh, but it's a gift, too.
With Rodimus's free hand, he brings his cube to his lips and takes another long sip. Then he looks at the cube. And the drinks would be lowering the inhibitions, too, wouldn't they?
And inhibitions include things like, Gee, you shouldn't punch this person who's really angering you right now.
The Prime's optics sparkle in anticipation.
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Perceptor-3
Rookie
Curiosity killed... everyone else. After a lengthy examination, of course.
Posts: 139
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Post by Perceptor-3 on Jun 15, 2008 21:58:22 GMT -5
Perceptor does not even bother with so much as a derisive snort at Mirage's comment about his intelligence. The scientist could hardly care what the hound thinks of his intellect, for he already knows himself to be superior to any here. Nothing more than a sad and pathetic flail, hoping to luck into a sensitive target.
Meanwhile, Mirage exposes his own sensitivities so nicely.
"Oh?" he queries smugly. "You deny that you are his hound to call? Always at his beck and whim? Eager for whatever scraps he lets fall while you wind yourself about him with your hackles raised and pretend that you are not desperate for his regard?"
Perceptor straightens, staring haughtily down at the spy. "Perhaps you are correct. 'Pet' would imply a certain level of... autonomy and sapience. Something which I detect a... lacking of from a certain mongrel. What could one expect, though, from a mere stray, swept up with the rest of the refuse from the gutter?"
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Mirage-3
Rookie
Totally Not The Geezer
Posts: 222
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Post by Mirage-3 on Jun 15, 2008 23:28:01 GMT -5
Mirage shivers slightly at Rodimus' caress. The hound's fingers massage firm little circles against Rodimus' waist as Mirage privately radios:
//I do not mean to slight you. What you give me- what you gave me earlier- that is a gift. You know my feelings on...that; I have never hidden them, and I will not start.//
As Perceptor speaks, though, Mirage's fingers still, not gripping, just resting on Rodimus' hip. But there is a tension about the spy, a razor-fine tension barely noticeable unless one is very familiar with Mirage.
Mirage's optics glitter, "A pet is something to be coddled or whipped at the whim of it's master, something expendable and weak, something that gives loyalty blindly and without concern for reward, slinking about at the feet of the stronger. I am none of those things."
"I am a predator, not prey."
Mirage laughs harshly at Perceptor's comments about his pedigree, "I know full well where I come from, and am not ashamed of it. I know my worth, Perceptor." Mirage takes a long drink from his cube before continuing, "And while you're basking in your supposed superiority, you might consider this...."
Mirage untangles himself from Rodimus and steps into Perceptor, very much invading the other's space. The spy murmurs, "I do not kowtow to him. I do not fear him, his anger or his passion. I have laughed in his face as he beats me almost to death, and yet he still wants me. And I share his berth because I want to, because he is the most amazing lover I have ever had."
"Who wants you, Perceptor? Or are you incapable of finding a partner without drugging them senseless first, or bribing them with promises of leniency later?"
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Post by Rodimus Prime-3 on Jun 16, 2008 10:14:55 GMT -5
Pretty much the moment Mirage responds to his touch, Rodimus drops his hand. While he's allowing the spy to wrap himself around him, he is, for the most part, trying to put on the appearance of neutrality. Not because he doesn't have his favorite, but because it's far more interesting to watch if both think they have a shot at the spot.
Perceptor is the challenger, the newcomer. What will he do to try to take top spot?
When Mirage disentangles himself, Rodimus steps away, attempting to give an illusion of distance, one that's completely false. He remains silent, letting the two argue about him right in front of him, and settles in to enjoy the entertainment.
OOC: Skippable for now. Will respond if addressed, touched, etc. Right now just gleefully watching.
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Perceptor-3
Rookie
Curiosity killed... everyone else. After a lengthy examination, of course.
Posts: 139
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Post by Perceptor-3 on Jun 16, 2008 11:08:23 GMT -5
With Mirage right before him offering such an unlooked for, unasked for challenge, Rodimus has been mostly forgotten. In a calmer, saner moment, Perceptor would even be the first to acknowledge that he isn't the favorite, nor would he ever admit to wanting that dubious honor - Rodimus may have a deft hand at repairs, but Perceptor is no masochist to enjoy that process leading up to the state of requiring the Prime's technical assitance to undo his own work.
Except, a tiny, traitorous voice murmurs at the slim edges of his awareness, those deft hands... what might they be capable of when their task turns from pain... to pleasure...
Perceptor barks out a brittle laugh, leaning in to meet that invasion of his space by the spy, looming forward until their chest plates touch. "I do not require the approval of others to validate my worth, little hound," he intones in a low tone that is almost a growl, almost a purr.
He has not yet been indulging himself in his own brew, and yet, there is a subtle madness burning through his lines like cold fire. It thrums a low counterpoint to his fuel pump as he presses forward that last fraction, scraping red plating against blue and white, sending arpeggios skittering across his relays. "Nor," he murmurs, and this time, his voice is definitely a purr, "must I debase myself so regularly with the mindlessness of carnal rutting to find either my pride, or my value."
He reaches down, optics still firmly fixed upon Mirage's as he plucks that cube from the spy's hand and lifts it to take a deep draught of the enhanced energon.
"And if you believe for an instant that your praise or punishment, warranted or otherwise," Perceptor murmurs, pushing the cube back into Mirage's hand, "that your very existence does not hinge upon 'the whim of your master'..." Perceptor's smile is a lash that cleaves the air between them as he catches Mirage up in strong hands and lifts the spy up to meet him optic to optic.
"Then you are even more deluded than the empty husk that Skyfire calls his pet," he hisses and then seizes the hound's mouth in a harsh kiss.
ooc: accosting of Mirage done with permission.
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