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Post by Rodimus Prime-3 on Apr 19, 2008 20:45:58 GMT -5
OOC: This takes place on Day 10, during the end of/after Mirage-3's return trip.
The demon Prime, the dark light, paces angrily along the edge of the of the crater that's been serving as Skyfire's landing point. His optics are narrowed, his arms clasped behind his back. His brow is knitted and his mouth twisted into an expression of dissatisfaction that usually signals to his troops that it would be best to stay far, far away.
Every now and again, he pauses in his pacing and glowers at the sky, as if by doing so he could will his wayward spy to arrive all the faster.
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Skyfire-3
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Post by Skyfire-3 on Apr 20, 2008 10:50:14 GMT -5
Soon enough came the roar of Skyfire's thrusters as the big shuttle slowed for a landing in the crater, wings spread wide. Soon enough, he settled to a stop and lowered his bow ramp...
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Swerve-3
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Post by Swerve-3 on Apr 20, 2008 22:17:26 GMT -5
Mirage's reminder – he'd become too comfortable with those wonderful Autobots – rings over and over in Swerve's head even as he shivers, truly now, under those unwelcome fingers tracing his armour and finds the mobility to turn his face away from Mirage, avert his gaze from that cruel smile. The hound really has come to resemble his master in many ways.
More chilling than his callousness or his eagerness to see the constable twisted into the Prime's plaything, more sickening than his persistent violation, is how terrifyingly close to home his questions strike. Death, no, Swerve won't dare let himself think of such things. Never again. But for a few horrible moments, Swerve did want to hurt Mirage, badly, and to do it with his own hands. Worse, Mirage suspects. He can't know – Swerve has been too careful – but he at least suspects and that strikes Swerve to his very spark.
He has more dire, more damning concerns; Skyfire lands, the ramp drops, and Swerve's ventilation takes a sudden upward leap. The Prime is out there.
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Mirage-3
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Post by Mirage-3 on Apr 20, 2008 22:54:22 GMT -5
When Skyfire lands, Mirage tosses the constable over his shoulder again. Swerve is likely getting rather tired of Mirage's backside by now.
A particularly nasty smiles plays across the hound's face a moment, an idea coming to him, and he switches on his holo-tech. Mirage still looks like himself, but the image he projects is of himself unburdened. He strides confidently down the ramp, coming to a stop before the Prime. Mirage shivers just a touch at that look from his master. Oh, he will pay dearly for this fun.
Mirage smirks, "I believe the appropriate Terran phrase is 'Surprise, Happy birthday' or some such," he says, switching off the holo and dropping Swerve unceremoniously to the ground at Rodimus Prime's feet.
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Post by Rodimus Prime-3 on Apr 20, 2008 23:14:37 GMT -5
With an almost animal snarl, Rodimus Prime backhands Mirage the moment Swerve has been dropped. Still, it could be said that Mirage is getting off easy. Rodimus isn't actively looking to injure just now - he's simply striking out automatically in anger. And, for all the damage that Rodimus Prime can do unthinking, it is nothing when compared with what he's capable of when he intends harm.
It's only after the strike that he fully processes what's been laid before his feet. At first, his expression is that of wide-eyed, mouth-opened shock. Then, his lips pull into a smile of cruel delight. It's enough to make the genuinely good-natured, without-malice grin of the blue-eyed Prime seem nothing more than a fleeting fancy, and this moment, the dark awakening. "So this is where they escaped to," he mutters, tone thoughtful.
Prime crouches, left knee going down to touch the ground, right forearm resting casually on top the other knee. With his left hand, he reaches towards Swerve, attempting to turn the other's face towards his. "A very good gift indeed," he murmurs to Mirage, "but the wrapping leaves something to be desired."
And speaking of wrapping, he seems to have forgotten entirely about Skyfire. This, however, might well be to Skyfire's preference.
OOC: Slapping around of Mirage-3 done with player permission.
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Skyfire-3
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Post by Skyfire-3 on Apr 21, 2008 9:47:06 GMT -5
Skyfire transformed once people were out of his hold, and gave a quick look around before stepping back, out of the way. And then a little bit further out of the way before stopping; Skyfire had no interest in distracting Prime from his prize right now, but appearing to sneak off was just guaranteed to draw Prime's attention and bad mood.
So, he waited patiently.
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Swerve-3
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Post by Swerve-3 on Apr 21, 2008 10:57:16 GMT -5
A part of Swerve wants to screw up his courage and face in stoic defiance this terrifying thing looming before him. Another part, possibly the smarter part – the part that remembers his promise to Emirate Xaaron through the surge of fear and anger as Mirage again hoists him like a sack of supplies and pain lances through his systems when that bit of shoulder digs into his ventral plate – wants to run as fast and as far as he can. But he can only just lift his head, clench his fists, twitch or shudder. He can't transform like this. All he can do is get thrown around and yelp when he hits the dirt and his (previously) uninjured shoulder spasms, steering column warping with the impact. He'll pay Mirage back for that, too, he determines through the pangs shooting down his arm. He'll make Mirage hurt–
No! Swerve feebly shakes his head, overbalances, tips onto his hood. It's already starting. That's the Prime standing over him, smiling down at him with an awful sort of joy that makes the worst of Mirage's smirks pale in comparison, and already the thoughts come. Swerve can't turn away – can't get leverage to roll off his back – he turns his head instead, staring at his shoulder while he tries desperately to lock away those impulses.
The Prime's touch inspires more fear and loathing in the constable than Mirage could ever hope to draw out. Swerve does his best to fight the pull and his best isn't good enough; strong fingers catch his chin and remind him how weak he is with how easily he's forced to look back. Somehow, maybe by the grace of Primus alone, he keeps his expression neutral, but he fixes his gaze on some indistinct point off to the side. He can't – won't – look into that grinning face.
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Mirage-3
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Post by Mirage-3 on Apr 21, 2008 11:27:41 GMT -5
Mirage had expected that blow, expected worse actually, though he did not brace himself against it. Such tensing makes merely adds to the pain. That it was such an offhand, unthinking gesture is the only reason Mirage is not sprawled on the ground beside Swerve. As it is, the blow staggers him, and it takes a few moments for him to regain his equilibrium. He brings his hand up to his face; slight denting, and lubricant is leaking from one corner of his mouth. Still, he smirks and looks down at the Prime where he kneels.
"My apologies Prime, but I lacked the time to paint Skyfire pink and adorn him with bows," he drawls. His voice drops so that it should not carry beyond the Prime and Swerve, and the tone changes, no longer baiting. "I could not fetch them both, Rodimus. You were...highly upset at my previous inability to locate this one."
Mirage drops to both knees on the other side of his captive, hands resting on his thighs. He does not speak, but the look he is not even aware is on his face asks plainly, Have I pleased you? All hounds ache to earn their master's praise after all, even as they struggle against the leash.
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Post by Rodimus Prime-3 on Apr 21, 2008 16:30:10 GMT -5
Wait, what? How did Mirage know of Rodimus's preferences towards pink? Well, all right, he might have been caught looking after Arcee once or twice, and there is the fact that Hot Rod was rather pinkish. Rodimus Prime considers himself a handsome mechanoid, and he thought the same of himself when he was Hot Rod. It stands to reason, then, that the shades he wore then (pink-magenta, silver) and the shades he wears now (red and orange) are colors he views as attractive.
Speaking of Skyfire, with a glance, Rodimus notes that he's still hanging around. He waves absently. "You may go now, Skyfire. Your promptness will be remembered when next we find ourselves with a jet I have no use for." He doesn't specify faction. Does he intend to eventually turn the jets of his current allies over? Is he thinking of any belonging to these 'heroic' Autobots? Or is he on the verge of growing just a bit too tired of Slingshot's insubordination?
With that, he returns to examining Swerve. The expression on his face, that smug, satisfied smile, should answer Mirage's question. Yes, my hound, you have pleased me, it says. But a robot in Rodimus Prime's position must look a gift horse in the mouth. The smile fades as he considers. "We must assume they've been here for as long as they've been missing from us, which means they have inside information on our capablities. I do already know what the Decepticons do of these other Autobots1, but I'll need a complete report from what you've seen of them, Mirage, including what preparations they've made." He purses his lips. "I fear I'll probably have to let Starscream know they've been warned we exist now, but with the attack so near, he needn't hear about how you've set them on higher alert."
Rodimus lifts his eyes from Swerve's figure to Mirage's face. "Fortunately for you, they don't have enough time to take proper advantage of their warning, Mirage. Your present was well timed - in early enough that we may gain some joy from him before the festivities proper begin, but not so early that it will make a difference. But still, that was a foolish move."
The flame-clad Prime looks down at Swerve and smiles once more. "Welcome home, my little lost one. I suppose now the question comes, how best to celebrate your return?"
1 Remember that 'talk' with Counterpunch?
OOC: Apologies for any disjointedness. Trying to get this knocked out on break. >_>
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Skyfire-3
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Post by Skyfire-3 on Apr 21, 2008 17:13:46 GMT -5
Skyfire gave the Prime a courteous half-bow and retreated; he knew when it was time to leave. "Thank you, Rodimus Prime. I will get myself refueled and ready for whatever mission you next have for me."
With that, Skyfire leaves the area; he also has a jet to retrieve.
---
Skyfire out-of-thread, unless someone says something to him
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Swerve-3
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Post by Swerve-3 on Apr 21, 2008 19:51:13 GMT -5
…"This one"? Swerve blinks, wide-opticked stare darting to Mirage when he finds he still can't turn his head against the hold on his chin. The Prime was upset because Mirage couldn't find Swerve? But… wasn't it Emirate Xaaron…?
Skyfire's dismissal breaks Swerve from his confusion long enough to look at the shuttle pleadingly, forgetting for a moment just which Skyfire this is. Then he winces at himself, silently cursing his slip; he's an idiot and thrice over. No-one here will help him, especially not against Prime. Prime, who favours him again with that smile and asks that question. Swerve stares in spite of himself, in spite of telling himself not to look, fixated on those burning red optics. The possessiveness spells sure pain; celebration, torture. He's going to pay for running and for taking away Emirate Xaaron. He'll remember every blow, every wound and every shame, and he'll return them all with interest.
Oh, Primus, no.
"N… nnh…." No, no, no!
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Mirage-3
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Post by Mirage-3 on Apr 21, 2008 21:53:56 GMT -5
Mirage grimaces at the Prime's promise to Skyfire, "Is that really necessary, Prime, giving him another? I know you are prone to cruelty, but what you let Perceptor do to Thundercracker...." Mirage's voice trails off. Questioning Rodimus Prime tended to end badly for the questioner.
After a few moments he continues, looking down at Swerve. "It was a calculated risk, snatching him. I was counting on your usual desire for expediency, that I would not disrupt your plans too badly." He reaches out and runs his fingers over Swerve's arm, "But I was presented with an opportunity too good to let slide. Him without Xaaron, watched but not guarded. They have accepted our prodigals much better than might be expected, and Swerve at least seemed to have settled in well amongst them. You know I disliked failing you before, Rodimus," Mirage looks back at the Prime, letting his hand fall, "And I knew you wanted him."
"Do you want that report now, or in a more private setting?"
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Post by Rodimus Prime-3 on Apr 21, 2008 23:10:51 GMT -5
Questioning Rodimus Prime does, indeed, tend to end badly for the questioner, and as Mirage speaks of Thundercracker's, Rodimus levels on him a look that should remind him of just that. He shrugs. "Skyfire is very attached to his little toys, Mirage, and so long as that attachment holds, their lives are leverage to be held over him, as is the chance for more. Besides, I only said it 'would be remembered.' I've guaranteed him nothing."
Then the Prime grins at Swerve's reaction, the horror, the frantic attempts at vocalization. He laughs. "Ah, but Mirage, your gift makes itself more valuable by the moment. It's almost enough to make me forget the insolence you displayed during the delivery. Almost."
He kneels down and lifts Swerve-3 easily, but unlike Mirage, does not swing him over a shoulder. Instead, he carries the smaller mechanoid cradled in one arm, the movement almost absurdly gentle.
"But yes, a more private setting might be best for the report. And while we're at it, we can work out an... appropriate reward for your gift." The Prime smiles down at the constable cradled in his arms, and his smile is horrible.
"I think I've got an idea or two already."
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Swerve-3
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Post by Swerve-3 on Apr 22, 2008 2:33:50 GMT -5
It's Mirage's light touch – strange to be thankful for it – that snaps Swerve free of his lockup. He drags his gaze away from the Prime's face and searches desperately for something, anything else, trying to avoid that grin, that awful glint in those red optics. Nothing. No help. The conversation between Prime and his hound won't let Swerve's mind drift; they're talking about him, over him, like he's just a thing, and his optics follow his thoughts back again to Prime.
A prize. A gift. A playtoy for the flame-decked harbinger of the Pit itself. Prime hefts him up with sickening ease and a sort of care that Swerve finds terrible and suffocating. How much will he hurt later? Enough, he's sure, to make this alien mildness seem nothing more than an overheat-driven hallucination. Oh, if only his arms were free… if only he could talk, could move, he'd blast a hole clean through Mirage's smug, smirking face. He'd shoot the Prime, too, consequences be fragged. And he'd run. Tear a swath through the encampment and drive flat-out for Autobase, back to safety, back to Emirate Xaaron. And if Emirate Xaaron isn't safe – if anything's happened to him – Swerve will make those Autobots pay, too, so help him. They won't get away with betraying his trust, as if leaving him to their counterparts isn't bad enough. This, this is all that stuffy, smoke-blowing Mirage's fault. The half-clocked, blinker-brained idiot, so full of himself and his own importance he got duped by his double. He deserves a solid beating at the very least, preferably with his own drive shaft.
Agony, white-hot, rocks through Swerve's processors, twists at his spark, disrupts the escalating spiral. He grimaces and chokes out a groan, convulsing weakly in the Prime's hold, and his ventilation screams to newfound life, coolant pump slamming into overdrive, exhaust systems trying to shunt off all the heat that's built up so suddenly. He wishes overheat had taken him; he wishes he were shut down right now. With his processors offline, he can't think such ghastly things. With his processors offline, he can't let his past come back to haunt him. With his processors offline, he can't be reminded of the thing he was, the thing he keeps locked away deep where it can't hurt him any more.
With his processors offline, he can't wonder just what horrors the Prime has planned for him.
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Mirage-3
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Post by Mirage-3 on Apr 23, 2008 0:16:17 GMT -5
Mirage lips twitch, "Insolence? If we all followed you blindly, bent easily before you, then you would become quickly bored. And you are not one I wish to bore. Your boredom is to be feared more than your anger; you have strength, power, and will and what you might do or order done to erase that boredom worries my far more than what you might do to appease your momentary anger."
"I knew the risks of what I did and said. Do you see me hiding from the consequences? And I expected no reward." Except to witness your pleasure.
Mirage stands and makes to follow wherever the Prime leads. The sound of Swerve's ventilation kicking up prompts him to say, "He is getting a bit worked up, I think." The look Mirage levels on the constable is dark and predatory, wanting. Such a pity he hadn't more time before.
OOC: Perfectly fine w/ skipping to whatever plot-convenient private place you'd like for that report. Mirage will follow along wherever Rodimus leads.
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