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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 6, 2010 12:38:43 GMT -5
Rodimus seems faintly surprised as Mirage tries to seat him first - though he's often first to battle, the Autobot second isn't used to putting himself first in other things. He settles in anyway, and makes himself comfortable as he leans back into the sofa, the easy smile returning to his face.
The fingers are allowed, and Rodimus lifts his far hand to just lightly touch Mirage's fingertips before returning it to its place.
His expression is thoughtful as he considers Mirage's words about the clientele, and he finally gives a faint shrug. "Not too surprising, I guess. So far it seems like the safest way to go about things around here is just to rely on yourself, anyway," he observes, the sadness mostly hidden in his voice.
He casts his optics towards the ceiling and narrows them as he considers timelines and such. Finally, he states, "If he's around the same age Hot Rod was, yeah, he probably didn't." Rodimus really doesn't have anything to say about him not being like anyone else, so it's safest just to address the other part of what Mirage said.
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Post by Mirage on May 6, 2010 20:31:21 GMT -5
As promised, a waitress in well-made but subdued attire stops by the pair. She is pretty enough, but not too pretty, unremarkable of form or face. With that neutral smile that seems the norm here, she sets two small, short-stemmed, cut-crystal glasses on the table before the pair, bows, and strides away. The glasses hold a brilliant purple liquid that is faintly steaming, with a thin layer of shimmering golden liquid floating atop the surface. The drink will be bitter, but crisp, an excellent drink to whet the appetite for the more filling fare to come.
Mirage thanks the girl as she sets down the drinks, but waits until she has left before picking up the drink. The spy takes a sip, smiles, and then offers the other glass to Rodimus.
"I'm not sure I like not being given a choice in drinks, however, I must say they chose their starter well. Very similar to a synth cocktail I had at ball in Praxus, once. Golden Saz was the name."
He takes another sip. "There are several floors above this one, but the only one we are likely to be allowed to visit is the art gallery one floor up. The next is the VIP area," Mirage smirks, "And not all my talents could get me a pass to that Not yet, at any rate. I am too new, to much the unknown, and honestly, do not have enough funds. Above that are a variety of rooms, all available for private affairs. Except the ninth- but I can find no information about what that floor actually holds."
"All and all, however, I have been most impressed."
//Mainly, by how Pyrite managed to actually break in here in the first place. This club takes exclusivity to a level even I've never seen.//
Mirage swirls his drink in his glass, then tilts his head up at Rodimus, "You didn't have to take your hand away from mine, you know," he teases, "There's no one here to carry tales and gossip back to our fellows. "
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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 6, 2010 22:27:42 GMT -5
//Speaking of security, are we sure they don't intercept around here?// Rodimus replies, accepting the drink from Mirage. He takes a sip, winces at the bitterness, and then swallows it down anyway. It'll play havoc with his filters, he's sure, but this isn't the time to worry about that. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time he's drunk things in social settings that he knew was going to bite him in the rear later on.
Rodimus smirks at Mirage. "Maybe it's not our fellows I'm worried about. Besides, I wouldn't want to seem over-eager."
Because he's totally seemed over-eager so far.
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Post by Mirage on May 6, 2010 23:23:01 GMT -5
Mirage catches that slight wince, and he leans forward, still effortlessly holding his own glass as he extends a finger and tries to place it on Rodimus's wrist.
"You needn't drink it, if it doesn't agree with your palate. Bitters are an acquired taste even for those used to high-end vintages, and I imagine you've had little exposure to more than the base blends, warborne as you were. This is a bit odd even for me, given that it is not an energon base, but at least the flavor is familiar."
//And we don't know, not really, but I doubt our personal conversations are any less secure than usual. This place is known for it's discretion, and many a deal has been made at its tables and on its floors. You don't foster that type of environment by violating your customers privacy. So long as we don't give them a reason to pry, we should be left alone.//
Rodimus's comment about not wanting to seem over-eager, though, that makes Mirage smirk right back at the young Prime.
"If you appear any less eager, I may start to worry that I am not to your tastes. Though that has always been a worry; I share few traits with those for whom you seem to care deeply."
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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 7, 2010 17:53:12 GMT -5
//Yes, but... considering what we were just talking about, they might have reason to pry!//
Considering they were just talking about someone slipping through the place's security.
Rodimus snorts. "Eh. I can't imagine I'd have gotten much exposure to high-end blends, anyway," he admits as he sets his drink down. "I've already been pegged as an odd one out, but I imagine drinking something I obviously don't know how to drink just to fit in won't change that much, anyway," he says, smirking faintly.
At the last words, however, he gives an faint sigh and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Mirage, I'm not... I'm not trying to snub you! I just... look, you're charming. If I were still Hot Rod, I'm sure I'd have taken you up on... on... you know... well before now. Jumped at the chance, even. But in case you haven't noticed, I haven't... not even with the ones that Hot Rod was closest with!"
"Besides, I care about all the Autobots. And the Maximals," he adds. It's a true enough statement, but it may not be much of a comfort.
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Post by Mirage on May 7, 2010 20:34:21 GMT -5
Mirage's smirk shifts to a slightly sad smile, and his expression as he regards the Prime over the rim of his glass holds the hint of something almost akin to pity.
"I have noticed," Mirage says softly, reaching out to try and curl his fingers against Rodimus's cheek, "I am not treating you like this just to persuade you into my berth. I wouldn't object to the company tonight, no, but it is not the outcome I expect from this encounter."
Before Mirage can continue, the maitre d' arrives and informs them their table is ready. Mirage stands and once more offers his arm to Rodimus.
"Shall we?"
Once Rodimus takes Mirages arm and rises, the maitre d' leads them to their table, a private, curved half-booth tucked into a corner. It's obviously designed for cuddling couples to sit next to each other, as attempting to put the table between them would be awkward and leave one person pressed against a wall and the other hanging off the seat edge.
//I...did not ask for this type of seating. I hope you are not too uncomfortable...// Mirage sounds slightly embarrassed, given their recent topic of conversation. It doesn't show, however, as he tries once more to seat Rodimus first.
The host leaves a pair of menus, bows, and, after letting them know that a server will be with them shortly, returns to the front of the house.
OOC: posing of Rodimus done w/ permission.
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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 7, 2010 22:09:00 GMT -5
Rodimus allows the fingers to touch his face, but he looks, perhaps, suspiciously relieved when the maitre d' arrives. He looks over at the seat, gives a faint shrug of his right shoulder, and slides into the table. If he needs to be out quickly enough... well, he'd have an easier time upturning the table.
//I'll deal with it,// he answers over the radio, then sits down and frowns at the menu. He tilts his head, then picks up the menu and tilts it in the opposite direction.
"I can't make much sense of this. It's not like I generally consume solid fuels. A bit of energon in a smaller-sized frame, like an energon goody, is about as close as I get."
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Post by Mirage on May 7, 2010 23:06:31 GMT -5
Mirage doesn't pick up the menu, instead leaning so that he can examine the one in Rodimus's hand. Mirage does reach out to try and both straighten and steady it, however.
"Mmm, they are interesting for a change, though I prefer liquid refreshment myself. I recall this one shop in Iacon, however, a confectionery, had perfected the practice. Truly exquisite creations, they were, each a unique experience...," Mirage murmurs, voice trailing off as he studies the menu. It's a varied menu- it needs to be, to accommodate the different levels of mechanical patrons- but large swaths of the menu have to be discarded out of hand. They simply will not work with Mirage's filters, which means they probably won't work for Rodimus's.
He indicates a column to the far right. "Nothing says we have to have a solid-fuel meal, however. If you pick from these selections, you should be fine. They are all liquid, and while not optimal for our systems, shouldn't be anywhere near so bad upon them as that fuel from Gillanan III."
"Or...I could order for you, if you prefer."
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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 8, 2010 20:17:34 GMT -5
"Ugh, good," Rodimus grunts as Mirage mentions the fuel on Gillanan. "That cross-continent trip back when I first arrived was not an experience I'd want to repeat."
He continues to frown over at the menu, optics darting up, then down. Finally he shakes his head and leans back, a move that has the unintended side-effect of moving him closer into Mirage, something he doesn't seem to have noticed yet.
"Yeah, might as well," he says in defeat. "I've got no clue what I'm looking at here."
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Post by Mirage on May 8, 2010 23:21:41 GMT -5
Mirage notices how close the move puts Rodimus to him, but Mirage doesn't move to close that slight distance any further. Likewise, he doesn't attempt to widen it. Mirage has noticed that his boldness makes the Prime uncomfortable, and he thinks, perhaps, that he must change tactics if he does not want to completely alienate Rodimus.
Mirage does, however, turn slightly in his seat so that he can more easily look at his companion. Perhaps this does actually bring their knees close to touching beneath the table, but Mirage isn't actually trying for the contact. He settles a bit into the cushions, bringing the menu closer as he scrutinizes it.
"Hmmm...you didn't care for the bitters, and many of these offerings trend toward the astringent, which probably won't suit either," Mirage muses, "But these might do." Mirage looks up at Rodimus, "Would you prefer something heavy and filling, or light and crisp? I'm unsure as to your appetites and well... your tolerance level for highly refined fuel. I wouldn't want to pick something that will go straight to your head."
While Mirage waits for his answer, he catches the eye of waitress across the room. She begins to walk their way.
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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 9, 2010 21:48:40 GMT -5
"Let's go with something light," Rodimus answers. He grins back at Mirage. "While I certainly like to think my tolerance is excellent, right now's not the time to take the chance in an attempt to save face!" He glances up as the waitress approaches and automatically offers her a winning smile. It's not an intentional attempt at flirting - it's just that, despite the events of the last few years (even before his arrival in this reality), the Prime still smiles easily.
He doesn't move closer or further from Mirage, but he hasn't really realized how close he is just at this moment, anyway.
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Post by Mirage on May 10, 2010 0:11:52 GMT -5
One corner of Mirage's lips quirks up at Rodimus's smile. Lined with age- and sometimes with worry- the young Prime's face may be, but that easy smile just reinforces his beauty. The Prime deserves a respite from his burdens, and if Mirage can provide that in some small way, the spy will be quite happy.
The waitress is a tall, muscular looking woman who at first glance seems to break the No Organics rule. Closer inspection will reveal skin shot through in patches with tiny wires and circuits and eyes that seem much too bright for a normal humanoid. She is much like the previous attendant and the host; attractive enough, yet easily forgettable, clad in the same well-made but plain trousers and blouse. Her brown hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail to reveal modest earrings studding the length of both of her pointed ears. She does not have an order pad.
"If the gentlemen are ready?" she asks, her own neutral smile firmly in place. It seems pretties like Mirage and Rodimus are commonplace to the girl.
"Most certainly, my dear," Mirage says, "My lovely companion will have the Martinet's Lament, with ethynol instead of methyl ester, please, and arsenic for the flavor shot. For myself, the Firedancer, neat."
The waitress nods, "Very good, Sir. I shall have your meals out shortly."
Once she's gone, Mirage turns back to his companion. "I really do want you to enjoy yourself tonight Rodimus," Mirage says as he starts to try and gently cover Rodimus's hand with his own, then stops, pulling the hand back. The spy doesn't sound arrogant, or flirty. He just sounds sincere. "I didn't mean to upset or embarrass you with my attentions. Flirting and casual touching come too easily to me, perhaps- I merely thought you might appreciate being treated like, well, like a normal person instead of Chosen for once."
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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 13, 2010 20:30:03 GMT -5
Rodimus listens to his order with some interest, head tilted. Arsenic? Eh. He's had worse. When the waitress gone, he turns towards Mirage and chuckles a bit self-consciously at Mirage's words. "You mean there's no 'normal without the flirting'?" he asks, but his smile suggests more teasing than anything else. Then it settles a second time into self-consciousness. "Really, I'm not quite sure when I became this, well, horrible about flirting myself." He pauses. "No, wait, I know exactly when it happened, I'm just not sure why." He grins, clearly amused with himself and the whole situation, though there's a faint undercurrent of frustration that he seems to be trying to cover.
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Post by Mirage on May 13, 2010 22:40:15 GMT -5
Mirage will take self-conscious amusement over embarrassed discomfort any day. Plus, the Prime's words are, in a way, encouraging. He isn't asking Mirage to stop, well, being Mirage. In fact, Rodimus might be hinting that he'd like to flirt back, if he could just figure out how/reconcile it with his ethics.
"Hmpf. "I am attracted to you, Rodimus. Not flirting with you wouldn't be 'normal' for me," Mirage's lips quirk, "But I can try to temper my natural inclinations, for you."
The spy sighs and shifts in his seat, again turning more toward Rodimus. One arm rests on the table's edge, the other on the back of the booth, fingers inches from Rodimus's shoulder. The expression Mirage levels on Rodimus is oddly serious.
"You're Prime. Not a Prime chosen by predecessor or council, but by the Matrix, by Primus himself. I do pay attention to such things, you know," Again his lips quirk into a half smile for a moment before settling to serious once more. "Your entire being is centered around the salvation of our people. I imagine things like flirting and coupling seem frivolous, perhaps even dangerous, to you."
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Post by Rodimus Prime on May 14, 2010 10:04:50 GMT -5
Rodimus rubs the back of his head as Mirage recounts his... his heritage. It's not something the Prime himself is comfortable with, not something he asked for. At the spy's suppositions over what he thinks of flirting and coupling, Rodimus opens his optics. "Frivolous? No! That's... that's part of life. An important part!" He looks down at his hands as he considers this. "For us..." then he frowns and corrects, "for me, maybe secondary to, well... intended to be secondary to... other things." The frown deepens, his optics narrow, his expression shades faintly, very faintly, towards angry. "But we aren't just made for a purpose and disposed of. We've gone beyond that. We live, we love, and that's... that's important."
Then he looks up at Mirage and smiles sadly. "But dangerous... you're right about that. That's not just... seeming, though. It has been, when I've let people close to me. They've been used as weapons." He sighs. "More than once. And with... disastrous results."
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