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Post by Mirage on May 1, 2010 23:28:47 GMT -5
Day 8, evening Semi-private
Mirage knows exactly how good he looks as he leans so causally against the wall down the walk from X. He went to the time- and expense- of having a new suit custom made to his form, instead merely altered to fit, and it's that suit he's wearing now: dark navy slacks and jacket to match, (yes, the other suit was navy, but of lesser quality), impeccably tailored, and white silk shirt with subtle tone on tone pinstripes. He's sporting his lovely new cufflinks as well, of course. His manner is easy, his slight smile charming, and more than a few heads have turned for a second look as they pass by him.
Mirage's smile quirks a bit wider. Good as he looks, Mirage wonders if his companion, once he arrives, will upstage him. It's entirely possible, especially if Rodimus did as Mirage cautioned and obtained appropriate attire.
It will hopefully be a most interesting- and enlightening- evening.
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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 2, 2010 20:22:33 GMT -5
Rodimus Prime is walking. This is because his clothing prevents him from transforming, a fact which rather annoys him.
Said clothing is a well-tailored wine-red suit made of a material with a faint, shimmering sheen to it. It consists of slacks, a jacket, and, sadly a black satin blouse beneath the jacket that covers his beloved flame paint job. This fact is somewhat mitigated by the intricate flame pattern worked into the suit itself at the cuffs and lapel, done in a lighter red than the suit itself (one that more closely matches his own paint job), but occasionally highlighted with a splash of yellow or orange. On the upper right section of the suit, where a pocket would be had Rodimus bothered with pockets, is the Autobot symbol. Why he felt the need to advertise this is anyone's guess. There are slits worked into the back to allow his spoiler through, buttoned together and with a careful cut to keep it laying flat.
Rodimus looks up and down the street until he can find Mirage, then strides up towards him and smiles a bit shyly, the sort of smile that seems to bring out his more boyish aspects. He rubs the back of his head and gestures down at himself. "Is, uhm, this all right for the club?"
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Post by Mirage on May 2, 2010 21:35:19 GMT -5
Mirage spies Rodimus a few seconds before the Prime spies him, and so Mirage has the luxury of watching Rodimus with no small amount of appreciation as he approachs. Mirage doesn't straighten from his casual lean against the wall, and his slight smile doesn't change, but the appraising look he gives his Prime should be obvious, as well as the fact that Mirage is very, very pleased with what he sees.
Mirage is here as part of his investigation, but Mirage has ulterior motives, he does.
He tilts his head and gives the suit another once over. "A bit flashier than I would choose, but then, you are a bit flasher in your personal aesthetic overall than I."
Mirage pushes himself off the wall, and easy, graceful movement. The spy really has taken well to clothing and wears his own suit as if it were a perfectly normal thing.
"You look stunning, but then you always do," he murmurs, voice a tad sultry, stepping close and offering Rodimus his arm. Regardless of whether Rodimus takes that arm or not, Mirage will after a moment turn and start walking toward X.
His tone shifts to one of both respect and seriousness as he continues, "I will apologize now if I offend you once we're inside. It is neither personal, nor intended. This place caters to those who would make my attitude seem congenial as Holi's; it will be much like being among my old peer group for me, if not worse. Trust me Rodimus when I say that my current attitude, the one which so tends to upset people, is much, much more personable than what I once was."
"It was my very obvious aristocracy, my ability to prove a noble linage," For Mirage is nobility of a sort on Cybertron, "that allowed me to even get this reservation. That, and some careful contributions. I have not worked so hard for admittance into a place in longer than I can remember."
The club is less a club and more a complex. It is built into the side of a hill, with multiple levels and a spaceport on top. It has multiple entrances, but one is obviously for the general public. Not that anyone in attendance is general. Everyone queuing up at the door is impeccably dressed, and not a pure organic species in the bunch.
The line is moving quickly enough, but there seems to be a pretty intensive security or screening process. It shouldn't take too long for Mirage and Rodimus to make it to the door.
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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 3, 2010 11:02:00 GMT -5
"Hey, nothing wrong with a bit of flash from time to time," Rodimug grins at Mirage. The young Prime does hesitate half a moment at the arm, then accepts it and adds, "Thanks for the compliment."
He sobers a bit at Mirage's warning, listening carefully and giving a faint nod of his head. Then, the right corner of his lips pull up in an amused smirk after the spy explains what he had to do to get them in. "So I'm the arm-candy trophy date? Gotcha!" His tone is teasing, not annoyed or angry.
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Post by Mirage on May 3, 2010 21:15:59 GMT -5
Mirage cuts his optics over at Rodimus and smirks, "I would never dare to refer to you as a trophy date, but if you want to play the part, I'll not stop you. I imagine you would have more fun with that role than you did playing my bodyguard."
He tries to place his free hand over Rodimus's, just sliding his fingers over the Prime's before settling his hand on Rodimus's plating.
"For that matter, I could guarantee you would have more fun, in that case," he adds, that slightly seductive edge to his voice again.
The doorman and security guard doing the screening are both well dressed and polite, for the most part, though it is obvious they take their jobs very, very seriously. The doorman, a cyborg whose orginal species isn't even recognizable, quirks an eyebrow at Mirage, then consults his books.
"Ah, yes, our... work-in." He says work-in like it's some sort of taboo. "Lord Mirage. There will be a table available for you in the restaurant in exactly twenty-three minutes. If you miss your window, I am afraid we will not be able to seat you at all." He does not add this evening. He means period. "Please enjoy your visit to X."
Meanwhile, the security guard, a burly robot, has been eying Rodimus. Sure, this Lord Mirage could just like 'em tall and more...mature, but that suit and its careful emblem placement screams high end security company or personal guard.
He waves the pair through the security scanners.
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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 4, 2010 9:10:52 GMT -5
Rodimus gives Mirage a faint smirk. "How about I just play 'Myself Trying To Have A Good Time'?" he asks, unaware that he's already been pegged as a 'guard' again.
His brow-ridge lifts at the doorman's words, and the implied restrictions, then he glances at the robot eyeing him. He shrugs it off easily enough - he's used to being watched as a potential troublemaker, between his large build, his flashy paint job, and his position. That, and time was when Hot Rod was a troublemaker. He steps into the security scanner, though the truth is, he is still armed - the pipes on his forewarm, which poke through very carefully places slots of his coat sleeve should read as a normal part of his build, since they are just that. Many Transformers have far more obvious weapons incorporated into their bodies, but that doesn't change the pipes' usefullness as such.
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Post by Mirage on May 4, 2010 10:19:12 GMT -5
X allows a certain amount of weaponry to be carried openly by its patrons, so long as they behave. Troublemakers are removed quickly, and without fuss- and there are very seldom any troublemakers. The security scanning is more so that X has an inventory of what their patrons are carrying. For reference of course.
Rodimus will probably notice that Mirage, while still easy of manner, has stiffened slightly. Not really a stiffness of joints, but more of carriage. Mirage's now actually looks every bit as snobbish as he is often accused of being, if not more so, and even though the guard and doorman are both taller than Mirage, the spy seems to be looking down on them.
"Of course," Mirage replies to the doorman, tone bored, "I would expect nothing less."
Once through the scanning, the pair finds themselves shortly on the dance floor, hard industrial techno thumping through the room and driving the dancers into bliss.
Mirage quirks a brow. "Not exactly my normal music preference, but I must say the energy in the room is quite...seductive."
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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 4, 2010 12:20:18 GMT -5
Rodimus, for his part, doesn't bother to try to slip into any role beyond that which he usually plays: casual, amiable, open, and yet confident with a hint of command. He tilts his head and gives the music a listen.
"It sounds all right to me," he says with a shrug. Given his own experiences in recent years, his tastes have grown a bit of an edge, although he'll probably always have a bit of a soft spot for Stan Bush.
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Post by Mirage on May 4, 2010 21:31:14 GMT -5
The sad part is, this is less a role for Mirage than his "normal" self. Mirage was created nobility; he's had to learn an amiable personality.
Just because he's slipped back into the appearance of that attitude doesn't mean he'll be an ass to his lovely date, however.
"Hmm, if you want we can come back down after dinner? While we technically should have plenty of time to reach the restaurant level, it is a few floors up, and this place is just shy of a real crush. I'd rather be early for our seating than not."
Mirage tries to head toward the wide staircase which leads to the next level. This level is mostly open so that those drinking at the bars above can watch the dancing below.
"By the way," Mirage tilts his head to smile slyly up at the Prime, and continues in a teasing tone, "When one is complimented upon one's looks, it is usually appropriate to return the comment, if not the actual compliment. Unless, you for some reason do not find me pleasing?
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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 5, 2010 17:21:37 GMT -5
Rodimus visibly winces. "No! No! That's not it!" he protests, optics round. "I'm sorry! I'm just... I was distracted by the whole situation!" Like, say, deciding whether or not he should take Mirage's arm. "You look great!" He rubs the back of his head with his free hand and gives Mirage a sheepish smile. "Erm, sorry about that."
He looks around at the nigh-crush, expression considering. Then he nods. "Sounds like that would probably be best." He smirks faintly. "I'm sure I can survive going a little longer without dancing."
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Post by Mirage on May 5, 2010 19:39:36 GMT -5
Mirage gives Rodimus's arm a light squeeze. "Thank you, dear heart." He smirks, then adds, "Don't let it worry you. Confident as I am in my own appearance, a lack of compliments isn't going to wound my pride."
"Besides, I know I can be quite distracting. Not so much as yourself, perhaps...," again Mirage just tilts his head so he can catch Rodimus's reaction with the corner of his optic, "but then, you are quite the singular beauty, and blessed enough to possess both grace and maturity to round out the package."
The second level is as packed as the dance floor below, if not more so, and the bars are all doing a brisk business. It looks like there's a bar specializing in most any regional specialty one might care to name- so long as it isn't an organic regional specialty.
It's worth noting that every patron seems to be fairly well-to-do. There's a lot of quality clothing, impeccably styled, and a lot of expensive jewelry on the bodies of male and female alike. The finery doesn't hide the fact that several of those patrons, regardless of whether they are cyborg, robot, or technorganic hybrid are either carrying a weapon, or have obvious built in weaponry. Beyond that, there is a hardness and a wariness to many of them, and several pairs of eyes turn to follow Mirage and Rodimus as they thread the crowd toward the elevator.
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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 5, 2010 21:52:38 GMT -5
"Maturity?" Rodimus barks a laugh. "Me? Obviously, you haven't been talking to Kup!" It's a bit of a misdirection, however. Rodimus does know he's more mature than Hot Rod was, and he has had time to grow into his role, but as oft as not, he still feels like a child-pretender, the 'Boy Prime' he's sometimes called. "But really, aren't you laying it on a bit thick?" he asks, though the grin and the tone suggest he's teasing.
He's not so oblivious as to miss the looks turned his direction, and he takes a moment to try to catch Mirage's eye for a moment, looking to confirm, 'I'm not the only one seeing this, am I?' Still, he manages to remain relaxed even as he accompanies Mirage into the elevator. Automatically, he turns to face the door, and he gives the operator a beaming smile. "Restaurant floor, please."
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Post by Mirage on May 5, 2010 22:59:46 GMT -5
Mirage sighs, "Honestly, I try not to talk to Kup over much." He gives Rodimus an apologetic look. "Not that I dislike him, but he's a bit...rough for me, and I'm not so fond of stories as the Dinobots."
"You are more mature in appearance, you are graceful, and you are handsome, and what's more, I think you know this of yourself quite well. So, no, I would not say I am 'laying it on a bit thick'," a smirk, "Merely stating that I have noticed what you all ready know."
The elevator operator nods politely and keys the correct floor. It's only one floor up, so it's a quick ride. Just before the doors open, Mirage tries to turn slightly into Rodimus and to reach up and just barely trace a finger along Rodimus's cheek.
//You may be a young Prime, Rodimus, but there is age to your soul, and a weariness.//
Mirage turns back to the door and heads toward the maitre d', hopefully, with Rodimus still on his arm.
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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 6, 2010 8:22:56 GMT -5
"Mirage, he practically raised me!" Rodimus protests, the impact of Mirage's later compliments somewhat lost as the young Prime chooses to focus on the spy's comments about Kup. "I mean, I may be less prone to stories and stuff, but that's my background. So what if I put it in a prettier package?"
He turns his face away as Mirage tries to run his finger along it. For all the talk of maturity, Mirage now has a slightly sulky youth on his hands. He doesn't drop the arm as he approaches the maitre d', but he's obviously struggling to relax himself.
"Look, I'm sorry," he sighs faintly. "I know it's not realistic to expect everyone to get along with Kup. I mean... I guess he is kinda rough, but..." he trails off.
But if Kup's too rough, what makes Rodimus any better?
//You... don't really know my soul, Mirage.// That's generally a safe bet, given that Rodimus himself doesn't know it - and for some portions of it, he'd just as soon keep it that way.
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Post by Mirage on May 6, 2010 9:44:47 GMT -5
That slight snub, that refusal of touch, stings, but Mirage's carriage doesn't change, and that slight smile never leaves his face, even through Rodimus's protests.
The maitre d' greets them with a pleasant smile, "You are a bit early Lord Mirage, but you shouldn't have much of a wait. Please, have a seat in the waiting area, and a waitress will bring you and your date an aperitif."
The waiting area is rather lush, as such things go, and large, with wide, comfortable, cushy sofas, a rock sculpture with a softly bubbling waterfall falling down one wall and flowing into a stream that winds through the area. Music is playing softly in the background.
Mirage attempts to lead Rodimus to one of the couches and to seat the Prime first before sitting himself. Mirage turns himself toward Rodimus as he sits, one arm along the sofa back, fingers just barely touching Rodimus, if allowed.
"To answer your earlier concern... yes, I noticed the caliber of some of the clientele. I expected it. This place is frequented by many people of note. Politicians, starlets, businessmen- all people who tend to employ bodyguards and such. Also, I imagine that several of those 'patrons' are actually site security. This place...is almost a world unto itself here. They handle things...internally, from what I have been able to surmise."
"Also," Mirage adds, and his tone grows a bit more careful, "I get along with Kup as well as I do most of our company, perhaps, actually a bit better. He is very like the Kup I knew, and familiarity is comforting. That does not mean I seek him out."
"You, however, are not like any I have known; for that matter, I'm fairly certain Hot Rod didn't even exist in my reality at the point I was pulled."
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