Welcome to White Oaks

[Mirage]

Day 29, Pz-Zazz, open

Mirage is Not Happy to be in this establishment.

This establishment is not a high-class establishment. There are no polished fixtures, no top-shelf fuels, and no fancy music playing softly in the background.

No, this place is all bare and worn wood, threadbare seats, and sawdust on the floor. There are broken and lop-sided stools by the bar, an aging and rusted robot with a sagging middle acting as bouncer and security, and twangy country music blaring from a flashing jukebox in the corner.

A female robot in a dance hall dress saunters over to Mirage. "My, my aren't you the fancy looking one? What kinda company you looking for? I got some high-end girls and guys here, a good time guaranteed. And mostly clean." The madam holds up a finger, "Firewalls aren't more than a year outta date."

Mirage visibly cringes. "Ah, no thank you. I am here to meet someone," he answers, and begins to cast about, looking for said person.

[Counterpunch]

"You sure about that, doll?" says a familiar voice behind Mirage. "We got pretty good group rates."

The voice belongs to Punch, who for this occasion is wearing a slick (if somewhat cheap) pinstripe suit a shade of blue slightly darker than his blue portions, while the blouse shirt is an orange similar to his chest section. The deep blue neck tie is noticeably loose, hanging low enough that it's obvious that the top button is undone. On his face he wears a confident, seductive smirk completely appropriate to one of the higher-end 'employees' of an establishment like this. He rests his weight on his right leg, so that his left bends slightly, and his right hand is set at his hip.

There are no visible faction sigils at all.

"You sure you don't see anything you like?" he asks, glancing at the female robot with a look that seems to say, 'I've got this one, boss.'

OOC: P/CP is in two threads right now, one as Punch and one as Counterpunch, so if his screen-name and icon don't quite fit, that's why. In this thread, he is going to be Punch unless I explicitly state otherwise.

[Mirage]

Punch's "boss" gives her employee a smile and wink before meandering off to check on other customers. This one has proven he can work a mark, so the Mr. FancyPants should be in good hands.

Mirage turns around slowly and gives Punch a very professional once over. The spy shows no surprise, just a faint look of distaste that eventually changes to a pleased smirk.

"I'll not object to the company, if you wish to keep mine. Shall we find a place to get to know each other while I await my companion?"

[Counterpunch]

"I don't think I've looked forward to anyone's company more since I've been here," Punch purrs to Mirage, being, for once, completely honest. "They're some nice booths in the back," he says, nodding his head towards the far wall. "Decent view from them so you can watch for your... friend, secluded enough that we can have some measure of privacy." A room would be better, of course, since even in the booths they'll be visible to observant clients, but between Mirage's cover story and his earlier distaste, moving too quickly would be suspicious, and Punch has a cover to maintain.

Besides, the rooms are bugged. If they keep their voices down, the booth really is more private.

[Mirage]

"If the booth is clean, it will do nicely," Mirage answers, "Lead on, dear lad."

He doesn't take Punch's arm, but allows the other mech to lead as requested. The spy is still acting a bit stiff and out of place. Periodically, Mirage looks over his shoulder at the door, as if really looking for someone.

One of Mirage's browridges twitch when they reach the booth. It is... not really clean. He pulls a cloth out of subspace and runs it over the seat and table, then slides into the booth.

The crumpled up cloth is left on the table.

"So tell me, friend, what someone like you is doing in a place like this?" he murmurs.

OOC: posing of Punch done w/ permission.

[Counterpunch]

Punch slides into the booth next to Mirage, sidling up close to him. "A guy does what he has to to get by," he answers with an absent shrug, then gazes at the spy out of the corner of his eyes, head lowered shyly, faint smile on his face. "Trust me, this dive is far from the most unsavory place I've worked." His voice is low, but not so low that it would, in and of itself, draw attention. He leans slightly towards Mirage, though not so near as to encroaching on him just yet, though the angle he holds his shoulders at, turned slightly towards the other, holds a note of invitation.

[Mirage]

Mirage keeps his voice appropriately low as well, and he mirrors Punch's movements, turning slightly in toward the other robot as well. Anyone watching would think Punch was doing his job and playing the snooty mark perfectly.

"I suppose one must do what one must," he says, "But really, you seem a bit above the standard fair of this establishment. Certainly you could find a bit more... higher-end employment?"

"Though if things are going well enough for you, I suppose I shouldn't judge."

Mirage pauses to look at the door again and frowns. "I abhor lateness. Perhaps you could entertain me with a story while I wait? I assure you, I can pay your normal price."

[Counterpunch]

Punch leans in towards Mirage, running his hand along Mirage's arm. A small datadisk is tucked rather neatly into the sleeve of Mirage's shirt (this whole 'clothing' business comes in handy at times, it seems) and he rumbles out, "While there's plenty to tell, so much of it is so painfully... mundane. People come, and... people come, and life goes on." He turns to look absently across the bar, a dreamy, distant expression on his face. "But sometimes... sometimes I get the feeling that something big is waiting just over the horizon," he says wistfully.

[Mirage]

Mirage watches that hand slide along his arm with all the appreciation the gesture deserves. He must admit, Punch is good at his job. This is the first time Mirage has seen the other spy in a more.... relaxed setting, or heard him speak in something other than guarded tones. It is refreshing.

He turns a bit closer in to Punch. "One such as yourself who is so obviously of better quality than his co-workers should not be so melancholy. Dreams need only actions to become reality. Certainly that horizon is not that far out of your reach."

In other words, how soon, or does Punch know?

Mirage glances at the door again, then sighs before turning his attention back to Punch. "Nothing says you have to live this life forever, you know."

[Counterpunch]

Punch tilts his head, expression still distant, as though focusing on another time. "Oh, the dream'll be real soon, but... how soon, I'm not sure. I just hope I'm able to act when that day comes."

He glances at Mirage and for a moment, and while there's none of the obvious guardedness, the fact is that he's in a role. The only reason there's no obvious guardedness is because the shell is too complete.

"Well, of course. Who knows what the future holds? But I suspect it'll be business as usual for a good while still."

[Mirage]

Mirage gives Punch a considering look, head tilted slightly to one side.

"I am certain you will be ready when the time comes. You strike me as a person who is always prepared."

He reaches out and tries to trace the line of Punch's jaw with a fingertip at the same time keeping the other spy's gaze turned toward Mirage.

"You are very good at your job," Mirage murmurs in a seductive tone. Punch isn't the only one playing a role right now, after all. "Too good to have your talents wasted."

He tries to lean in close, lips a breath away from Punch's audial, "Whatever comes, be careful."

[Counterpunch]

"Oh, I waste nothing," Punch purrs back, one hand going to Mirage's leg as the other spy leans in so very close to him. "Despite my environs, I am incredibly... discerning."

He turns slightly towards Mirage as the other speaks into his audial, so that now it's his lips that are a breath away instead.

"And believe me, I do plan to look into... alternatives. I'm discerning, but I'm hardly exclusive."

It's time to have some back-up methods of passing intelligence!

[Mirage]

When Punch comments that he is discerning but not exclusive, Mirage chuckles, the sound low and rich. He runs his thumb along Punch's lower lip.

"Such a smart one, you are," the noble murmurs, "Alternatives are an excellent idea. Keep your options open, so that if opportunity knocks, you don't have to wait to open the door."

Mirage is still so very close to Punch, but he doesn't close that minuscule distance. Instead he says softly, "You have an opportunity now, if you want it."

Punch is stuck with Decepticons day in and day out, playing the role of angry solider, risking his life for the Autobots. Gentle companionship... it's the least Mirage can do.

[Counterpunch]

While playing his current role is more pleasant than playing Decepticon (or so Punch things now), it is still no less a role. 'Gentle companionship' is occasonally part of the part, and nothing more.

But it's because of that part that Punch smiles, just faintly, and answers, "What about your friend?"

[Mirage]

A role is a role, and nothing about how Punch is playing his role indicates to Mirage that the other spy actually wants to go upstairs with the Mirage. Mirage, for his part, would be willing, but is not overly interested. Punch is a nice enough example of a carformer, but really isn't Mirage's type. Too boxy. The offer was given more for comfort than desire.

Mirage continues to play the role, though, trying to gently cup Punch's cheek for a moment before settling back a bit in the seat.

He sighs, "I suppose you're right. Though if he doesn't arrive shortly, I am going to be most put out. These are not my usual environs." As if that weren't painfully obvious. "But you will keep me company while I wait, yes?"

OOC: fade on suggestive chitchat?