Mirage-3
Rookie
Totally Not The Geezer
Posts: 222
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Post by Mirage-3 on Oct 11, 2008 22:10:08 GMT -5
The reason the Autobots baited their trap at the temple is because they were fairly certain that their alternates had gone to ground somewhere nearby.1
Rodimus Prime, however, being the impatient sort he is, has sent his hound out to scent for just where their bootleg not-quite-clones have hidden themselves.
Which is how Mirage has come to be near a peaceful lake. The same lake besides which Rodimus Prime and Botanica had their little chat. Mirage is still unused to tracking in this organic mess, but he's learned fairly quickly. Grass springs back after but a few hours, but the soft, uneven floor of the jungle holds few prints. But with so much for a body to get caught on, especially large bodies...This area, the area all about the temple, has definitely seen use recently.
He crouches to examine a scratch on a boulder, a scratch which has a few tiny bits of flame-colored paint in it, clinging despite the recent rain. The hound's head snaps up, he cloaks and moves, still crouched. He heard something. Possibly just an animal. Possibly something else.
Open to 'Bots or 'Cons-3 who want something to do but didn't go to the crater, or who aren't hanging out with Pee-Dee.
1 Per discussion w/ admin.
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Tracks
Cadet
Can't match this
Posts: 122
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Post by Tracks on Oct 14, 2008 0:11:11 GMT -5
Tracks is a city mech. Give him a forest of buildings, a terrain of asphalt, the glimmering of street lights and the rising voices of passing humans any day (Not that this vette can't appreciate the qualities of nature, oh no. But city-life is quite something indeed). The slight residue of damp moss rubbing against his back brings a slight grimace to Tracks's features as he slides too close between two trees for comfort. One can almost see the carefully hidden distaste as he presses himself against another mossy trunk.
This is not the time to be antsy or particular about his finish, but the feeling still sends a slight shudder down his central sensory system. The gun in hand is gripped a little tighter, Tracks's movements a little more tense and cautiously silent with each step closer towards the temple.
With his concentration zeroed in on the news over the radio waves and on the surroundings, Tracks edges around the trees.
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Mirage-3
Rookie
Totally Not The Geezer
Posts: 222
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Post by Mirage-3 on Oct 14, 2008 9:36:33 GMT -5
Well, well, well. This day may be looking up. A pity he knows this isn't his Tracks. They could have so much fun!
At least one thing is similar- this Tracks hates getting his finish scuffed as badly as Mirage's Tracks. Well, at least when it wasn't getting scuffed in proper context. Mirage smirks. He'll have to ask Rodimus for this one, just for old times sake.
Carefully and silently, Mirage makes his way through the trees, his intention to come up behind the pretty sports car. There hadn't been a Tracks present during the attack at Autobase, and as far as Mirage knows, his faction doesn't have a Tracks. Which means this one is likely a new arrival. A little bit of bluffing might go a long way.
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Tracks
Cadet
Can't match this
Posts: 122
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Post by Tracks on Oct 14, 2008 17:57:55 GMT -5
Fun? It depends on one’s definition for the word ‘fun’. Getting one’s paint scuffed in any activity doesn’t fall under the category of fun…at all (well, there are very exceptional exceptions, of course). So this is how Tracks finds himself, successfully fighting the urge to count every single scratch cropping onto his armor and the desire to buff away the disgusting film forming over his surface. Of course, he’s more important issues to focus upon.
Tracks continues on his way, slipping through the branches and carefully weaving his way towards the Temple. The warrior has never had the pleasure to meet his own side’s Mirage (well, at least this teleported-to-Gillanan version), he’s never had to be on the look out for any mech with the spy’s capabilities. So the unseen form ghosting through the jungle receives little worry, though there’s a definite nervous static creeping along creeping along Tracks’s sensors. One more cautious look around and he glides forward again.
Glossy blue doesn’t blend in too in this jungle setting, the jarring white and red of his wings probably don’t aid him in his stealth either. But Tracks knows his way with sneaking around….just probably not as much as his unknown opponent.
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Mirage-3
Rookie
Totally Not The Geezer
Posts: 222
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Post by Mirage-3 on Oct 15, 2008 11:23:16 GMT -5
There are many differences between this Mirage and his alternate. Grace and stealth, though, these traits are shared, and it takes little effort on the hound's part to slip around and behind Tracks. Tempting, very tempting to sidle up to the pretty little sports car and ghost his fingers over Track's wings, just to watch him jump. But sadly, now is not the time for such games. He needs to know where the other Autobots have holed up.
Mirage's rifle barrel makes contact with Track's hood, pressing against a seam at just the right angle. If Mirage fires now, the dart will pierce that scuffed hood and the pretty head it covers in turn. The spy shimmers into view, but when he speaks he makes an effort to sound as much like his alternate as he can.
"Far be it from me to object to the possible improvement to our ranks visual appeal, but I don't believe we had Tracks when I set out to search for Swerve." Truth. "Oh, and I wouldn't recommend trying your radio. Holi so very kindly worked up a device for me which lets me know if someone is using theirs." Lie "If I detected that I would most certainly have to shoot you, and while I can survive being shot through the head, I don't know about Cybertronians from your reality."
Mirage leans closer and purrs, "And it would be such a shame to put an ugly hole in that lovely plating of yours, would it not?"
Ambushing Tracks done w/ player permission/
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Tracks
Cadet
Can't match this
Posts: 122
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Post by Tracks on Oct 15, 2008 21:37:49 GMT -5
Tracks's movements come to a jarring halt as something pushes firmly against his hood, his last shift bringing his own gun a little closer to his chassis before realizing just what that foreign object might be. Blast it, of all the time to get ambushed by Deceptico--by Mirage? He'd hope that news of his arrival would have been better known by now.
"You won't give me the pleasure of verifying my identity over radio then?" Tracks quips back, his lips spread into a thin smile while his processors race through the situation. "I would hate to get roughed up all over some sort of petty misunderstanding."
"Why don't we talk this out like the gentlemechs we are before we do something we both regret?" He plays the situation as if he has some sort of lever in it, easy and smoothly. Though, granted, he actually has no lever at all in this. This is his Mirage, right? One can hope, if so. If not, well, then he'll have to wing something and wing it well.
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Mirage-3
Rookie
Totally Not The Geezer
Posts: 222
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Post by Mirage-3 on Oct 16, 2008 9:32:55 GMT -5
Mirage smirks, then purrs out, "And under what circumstances would you enjoy being roughed up, then?"
The hunter lets the pressure of his rifle on Track's hood ease up just a bit, as if the sports car's words had actually had some affect. "Normally, I would be all for civil discourse and against hasty violence, but I have seen entirely too much during my observation of the Prime and his pets," Mirage's voice grows hard, "I have come to the conclusion that I would rather be safe than find myself at the mercy of any of them. And I've reasons for not trusting the radio at the moment. That group has a Holi as well, and the little brat's comm skills have almost caught me on more than one occasion during these past days. I had to turn the blasted thing off except when I had to make vital reports."
Of course this is your Mirage, Tracks. Wouldn't the other Mirage have simply shot you dead from ambush?
"So I don't know you, and you are entirely too close to delicate areas. How would you propose to prove to me that you are on my side, given that radio is out of the question?" Mirage's tone turns suggestive, "I would so hate to put a hole in this finish of yours, especially before finding out how much like my Tracks you may be."
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Tracks
Cadet
Can't match this
Posts: 122
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Post by Tracks on Oct 17, 2008 10:56:22 GMT -5
What sort of question is this? A slightly bemused snort finds its way out of Tracks before he can stop it. "I can tell you quite plainly that the circumstances would have to be quite spectacular if I was to enjoy such abuse. You do know how much effort it takes to maintain a shine like this?" Tracks brushes his fingers over his thoracic plating thoughtfully, as if coaxing away some obvious stain --knowing this forest, there probably was something present there.
"You have more experience seeing them in action than I do then. Then again, I do suppose most of the Autobots here have that same advantage over me as well," he visibly relaxes as the gun tip let up on its weight, shoulders rolling slightly as he straightens into a more comfortable stance. Inwardly though, Tracks continues ticking through a list of possibilities. "Just what sort of proof are you looking for?" Yes, that tone of Mirage's is picked up quite easily and it sure makes the vette raise an optic ridge at the thought. "Would an exchange of backgrounds suffice? Or are you looking for something more particular?"
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Mirage-3
Rookie
Totally Not The Geezer
Posts: 222
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Post by Mirage-3 on Oct 21, 2008 12:35:17 GMT -5
Mirage almost says something derisive when Tracks mentions maintaining his finish, but then the hound remembers that his alternate is just as vain. Foolishness, in Mirage's opinion. Oh, he appreciates a well-polished pin-up as well as the next mech, but such primping is highly impractical in the real world.
"Oh, I know just how annoying it is to spend so much time getting the perfect polish only to have it ruined on a mission," Mirage sounds quite put out at first, then he purrs, "Once all this is done, perhaps we might help the other out in that regard, yes?"
The rifle's pressure lets up even more, and Mirage steps closer behind Tracks, perhaps close enough for plating to touch, rifle barrel sliding up and over to rest at an angle on Tracks's shoulder. He can't shoot the vain little sports car like this but then, Mirage never intended to shoot Tracks. Too noisy.
"We seem to be at an impasse, as any question I ask which might confirm your loyalties could be suspect, and I, for one, would never answer such questions. You would have to be quite trusting to do so, and while I know you're vain, I don't think you are foolish."
Mirage shifts his weight, and one of his knives drops into his free hand.
"I know Emirate Xaaron and the others had plans to set a trap out in the desert, though I don't know ho successful it's been. I know that our alternates are using Swerve as bait for a trap here- and it sounded like Grimlock was being his usual brash self a bit ago." Mirage shakes his head, "He's a fool. Not even he can stand against the Prime."
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Post by Pee-Dee on Oct 21, 2008 23:32:36 GMT -5
Rust-red and orange blend into the purple-red foliage better than most people think. And while Pee-Dee is no sneak-thief, she can move more quietly than most people give her credit for.
Blue may or may not be good for blending into the foliage, but talking like that tends to make ears prick up. Especially curious copper ears attached to curious coppers who have been running on 'trust no one except the sexy Decepticops' for a few hours too long.
Pee-Dee peeks out at the two of them. Tracks, she met briefly. She was pretty sure there wasn't a Mirror of him. Mirage? Not so much.
She strokes Mr. Singe reassuringly and holsters him at her hip. //Might need you soon, little bit,// She whispers to Spy Shot 6.
Then she steps out from hiding, letting the leaves rustle around her. "Mirage?"
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Post by Spy Shot 6/Cameron Otto on Oct 22, 2008 20:48:03 GMT -5
Round, red optics peek out of one of Pee-Dee's packs as Spy Shot clings to the edge of it, holding himself steady. With most of his body himself hidden away he isn't likely to be spotted, but the little camera-bot is poised and ready to duck out of sight... or to leap out and flash someone when Pee-Dee needs him to.
//Okay,// he responds.
OOC: Skippable until Pee-Dee calls on him.
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Tracks
Cadet
Can't match this
Posts: 122
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Post by Tracks on Oct 23, 2008 10:18:11 GMT -5
"Does that mean you're not questioning my allegiances anymore?" Tracks quips at Mirage's proposal of a post-mission clean-up. Contact with the spy winds the tension within Tracks's frame up minutely and a puzzled expression tugs at the corner of his lips. As much as he finds this attention interesting and flattering, the timing is most peculiar if wrong. Don't they have a mission of rescuing this 'other' Swerve further ahead? And why this sudden interest? Tracks has been in that underground base for a good majority of his time since his unceremonious arrival and he certainly wouldn't have turned away such pleasant attention and company then.
"Oh no, I suppose we do have a little bit of a roadblock on our hands," he straightens again, swaying casually in a slight stretch. "And I'd much prefer 'physically aware' to 'vain' if you please." Black fingers tighten their curl around the trigger of his black beam gun.
Pee-Dee? This is becoming a bit of an impromptu soiree now.
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Mirage-3
Rookie
Totally Not The Geezer
Posts: 222
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Post by Mirage-3 on Oct 23, 2008 11:33:35 GMT -5
He doesn't answer the question about allegiances; once his Prime is done, Tracks will be on Mirage's side. Or dead. Perhaps both.
"Physically aware? Tsk, and I thought I was bad," Mirage starts to chuckle, but the sound is quickly stifled when he hears Pee-Dee's voice. The hound shifts quickly, rifle coming to bear on the Junkion as his other hand- the one with the knife- moves up, his aim being to press the sharp blade to Tracks' neck.
It takes but a few seconds for Mirage to register that this isn't his Pee-Dee, but the gun at her hip prompts him to hold the rifle on her past that recognition. Spinister's guns are seldom far from him, and the helicopter and Mirage have tangled before.
He gives Pee-Dee a welcoming smile before letting his rifle barrel point downward. Inwardly he is worried; the situation has changed, and not in his favor. "At least I don't have to worry about your identity, my dear. Your alternate has a few more bits and baubles that make her stand out. Though I see you've picked up a friend." He can't quite keep the dryness out of his tone at the last.
Tilting his head toward Tracks, Mirage asks, "Care to vouch for Mr. "Physically Aware" here? I don't recall seeing a Tracks among our foes, but he wasn't with us before we had to run. And radio is not as secure as I'd like it to be anymore."
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Post by Pee-Dee on Oct 23, 2008 11:46:09 GMT -5
"This is Mr. Singe." Pee-Dee pats the gun at her hip again. There's just something about him that makes him so very touchable. (Spinister might like it that she can't seem to keep her hands off his gun.)
She walks over to the two men. "Tracks? I've seen him around. But Mirage-!"
As soon as she's close enough, she lunges for him, wrapping him in a tight hug and nuzzling at his shoulder. "I was so worried! You were out there all alone with that demon Prime, my poor pretty, and I didn't know if you were keeping radio silence or were dead..."
Pee-Dee lays it on thick, giving Mirage enough rope to either hang himself or save his hide.
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Glomping of Mirage done with player permission.
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Tracks
Cadet
Can't match this
Posts: 122
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Post by Tracks on Oct 25, 2008 13:01:09 GMT -5
"Now wait one moment--!" Tracks sputters as he feels something dangerously sharp dig in against his neck. He strains backwards ever so slightly, trying to put a little more distance between him and the blade. This little lean might put Tracks far enough to actually see Mirage properly as he narrows his optics in a slight glare.
A sharp and short hiss escapes Tracks when Pee-Dee attaches herself to Mirage. "If we could please keep this discussion relatively safe for my well-being?" He doesn't want that too-friendly blade finding a nice place to nest due to excited greetings. "I think you can rest assured of my identity now, Mirage. So if you'd please?" Tracks shrugs his shoulders, his wings flexing a little as well, attempting to encourage the spy to perhaps let him go.
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