This Room Is Clean

[Mayday/Maddox Wayne]

Day Two. Open for Mirage and anyone who wanders by their room.


Mayday busies himself about his newly assigned room. There’s so much to get done, everything must be washed, cleaned, sterilized, disinfected… He’s enlisting his entire remaining arsenal of cleaning supplies here (note to self: request more disinfectants). In the entire history of this universe there has likely never been a room so clean as this room is going to be. That is until his roommate gets here.

“Whyyyy?” he whines to himself, poised on his bunk and stretching up to reach the ceiling. Ceilings are important to clean, too. It’s where Nriin jumping mites like to lurk in wait until the drop down on their unsuspecting victims and infest their bodies to breed, gumming up their joints with nasty, egg-filled ooze, until they hatch and a wave of ravenous larvae- er, right. Busy feeling sorry for himself.

Oh fate – and well, Long Haul he supposes – why must you be such a cruel mistress? That he would escape the organic infested clutches of a planet into the pristine darkness of space only to be forced to share lodgings with another who is highly unlikely to be his strict hygiene requirements and will end up getting stuff on his things and might harbour who-knows-what unknown diseases brought from some far-off universe and, and- mental breath. Well, just woe is him! Woe, slaggit!

“Woe,” Mayday mutters, scrubbing fiercely at the ceiling.

[Mirage]

Mirage has been given a room assignment.

Once again, he has a roommate he knows nothing about.

Once again, he has not been placed with any of the mech which would most please him. Which means he will likely spend as much time in rooms Nine and Fourteen as he is allowed, instead of in this room.

Mmm. Jets and racecars. Never let it be said that Mirage is not equal opportunity.

However, he still needs a place to leave his belongings (such as they are), and a place to retire to when he wishes to be alone (which isn't often). The spy enters the room, completely unaware of the horrors awaiting him....

[Mayday/Maddox Wayne]

Is that the sound of someone entering the room? Why yes, yes it is!

Mayday jerks around to face Mirage, has one of his ankles decide it doesn't feel like supporting his weight at an awkward angle, and goes toppling from his perch atop his bunk. Crashing to the floor face-first with a foot still hooked over the edge of the bunk, he lets out a whimper of pain embarrassment.

"Um, ow," he squeaks, before quickly forcing himself up on one elbow, snapping his arm out to point accusingly at Mirage. "You! Stop right there!"

Flailing about on the floor for a moment he manages to get himself back to his feet, staring his roommate down with a lightly twitching left optic. "When was the last time you bathed? And how thoroughly?"

[Mirage]

Mirage was going to help the person who must be his roommate up of the floor.

Key word: Was.

Instead, he ignores the "order" and moves to the opposite berth from the one from which Mayday so gracefully fell. He flops gracefully down, one knee propped on the edge of the berth, elbow propped on his knee. He leans his head upon his hand.

"You most certainly did not just bring my hygiene into question, did you?" The disdain. It drips.

Because really. Mirage is a smart and conscientious mech. He has all the most current firewalls and everything!

"Besides, I am not the one who just kissed the floor."

[Mayday/Maddox Wayne]

When it comes to Mayday not trying to help him up is probably the better option. No touchy.

Mayday actually cringes as Mirage walks across the floor and sits on the opposite berth, making quiet whining noises. Nooo, his super-spotless room. And he didn't answer the question either! Disdain or no disdain, that still doesn't mean that he's clean. Or clean enough for Mayday. It's debatable whether or not any bot could actually be clean enough for him.

Jutting out his bottom lip, he fixes Mirage with a petulant glare and says, "You're the one who's avoiding the question." His left optic spasms. "And unlike you, I know the floor is clean." His voice drops to a quiet mutter as he eyes the floor. "Except where you stepped on it..." As his gaze rises up again, so does his voice. "I just cleaned it. Three times. With five different disinfectants. Can you say that for yourself?"

Crossing his arms, he sticks his nose in the air. Yeah! Beat that Mr. You-Did-Not-Just-Question-My-Hygiene.

...Actually, please do. A roommate cleaner than that would actually be pretty slaggin' awesome. A germophobe can but hope.

[Mirage]

Mirage's brow ridges have relocated about as far up on his head as they can.

"Oh dear Primus, they have given me one of those people as a roommate!" he snaps, "And if you cleaned it with five different disinfectants, then you cleaned it five times. Or else you went over it three times with five different disinfectants in turn, which means you still cleaned it fifteen times. Either way, it's an obsessive compulsive behavior of the first order!"

Mirage rubs his temple. There are plenty of unoccupied rooms still. Maybe he could just persuade Tracks and Skyblast to claim one of them with him.

"For your information, I have just come from the shower. And prior to that was in quarantine for several hours because unlike some I do not have a crippling mental disorder which prevents my being useful in the field." The longer he talks the more snobbish his tone gets.

"And if you even think about spraying me with any of that polish-eating, paint-stripping slag you are using on the room surfaces, I will plant you face down in Botanica's biosphere!"

[Mayday/Maddox Wayne]

"Hey! Hey! I am not obsessive compulsive!" Mayday huffs. "Some of the disinfectants mix well, so I used them at the same time." See? Only three times! That's not obsessive at all.

...Right.

He actually looks slightly surprised when Mirage mentions having just come from the shower, but quickly attempts to look nonchalant, examining the tips of his fingers. "Well, I suppose that's acceptable, at least. Probably better than half the people on this ship."

Nonchalant is rapidly replaced with peeved. What does Mirage take him for? Someone who doesn't know his disinfectants intimately? He snaps, "You don't use floor cleaner on your body. Though speaking of cleaning bodies-" He whips out a container of hand sanitizer and waggles it in his roommate's direction. "Could you... at... least..."

Something that Mirage said has finally processed, bringing Mayday to a standstill. Quarantine. He was in quarantine? Dropping the bottle, he immediately recoils from Mirage, and asks shrilly, "What were you doing in quarantine?!"

Never mind that being released from quarantine implies a clean bill of health.

He quickly gains a deathly serious expression. "Have you noticed any small, rust-like flecks recently? Have your hip or shoulder joints felt irritated? Noticed any strange fluctuations in body temperature? Any strange tingling feelings at the back of your head? How's your spark?" He pauses in his attempted interrogation. "Do you even have a spark?"

Apparently some of the people here don't have sparks! He can't really complain about that, considering that it means there's a slew of diseases they can't develop or pass on, but it's still kind of weird- Focus Mayday. Making sure your roommate doesn't have one of any number of strange ailments.

[Mirage]

To be quite honest, Mirage does not want to know just how intimately Mayday knows his disinfectants. Not that the spy has a problem with it; far be it from him to judge another's kink. Glass houses and all.

Mirage settles back against the wall and smiles reassuringly "Oh, I do have a spark, but you needn't worry. I've none of the aliments or issues you've so....emphatically laid out."

"And, after all, I have just been released from quarantine."

Then Mirage's expression grows quite sad, and he shakes his head. "A pity it's incurable. So sad, that one so lovely as myself should suffer such a burden. But they assures me it isn't contagious." A dazzling smile. "Let us hope not, yes?"

[Mayday/Maddox Wayne]

...Disinfectants do not work that way!

"I'm just checking," Mayday says. "Far be it from me to doubt our our local health professionals, but unless they're experts in uncommon diseases-" Suddenly he squeals, "What's incurable?!

Recoiling further, he knocks into his berth, tumbling onto it. Cracking the back of his head against the wall, he clutches at it but forgoes his usually whimpering and whining time in favour of sputtering at Mirage. Not contagious? Smiling? "What are you- What is- are you- jfffh! Nnyh! Guh!"

He takes a few moments to calm himself enough to be able to talk again, his expression going from panicked to kicked-puppy. "Are you making fun of me?"

He really, really hopes that answer is 'yes', 'cause otherwise he is sooo getting a new room.

[Mirage]

Haha! An even better reaction than Mirage hoped!

Not that he lets even a hint of amusement show on his face. In fact, the smile drops completely at Mayday's flailing. His expression is one of complete concern as he rises and takes a few steps toward Mayday before stopping.

"Mmm yes, that's right. They did say not to touch anyone for a few more hours, didn't they? Just in case. " he muses to himself before turning back to the berth and reclining upon it.

"Really, I'm not sure what you mean. But it's been a very long few days for me, and so I'm going to get a bit of rest. Continue cleaning and fretting if you like, but kindly do it silently." He lets his optics shutters slip closed.

[Mayday/Maddox Wayne]

Mayday twitches on his bunk, muttering quiet wordless noises of distress. Why did they make him take a roommate, whyyy? He didn't want a large room or anything! He was fine with one barely large enough for one person!

He glares at Mirage, trying to figure him out. He's probably just making fun of him, right? Right? Making fun of he can deal with. It's been awhile since anyone's really tried to mess with his head - mostly because he halfway made himself into a space hermit before coming here, and since his arrival he'd kept largely to himself and the ship - but it was a fairly common occurrence back when he was working at the shipyards. Seems like he might have to get used to it again.

His optic spasms. But what if Mirage isn't joking? There is a chance. Possibly a small chance. Any chance is too risky, though. He should probably exile himself to the bridge for a few days or something. Or possibly forever.

Creeping ever-so-slowly off his bunk, he reaches down and picks up his fallen sanitizer and eyes it. Then he eyes Mirage, and whispers, "Are you really asleep?"

[Mirage]

Mirage is not asleep.

But he does not answer Mayday for some time. Time enough for the King of Clean to get as close as he may dare to the spy's berth.

And then, without opening his optics, Mirage murmurs quietly, "Don't even think about it."

---

OOC: Ahem, my wishes and Mirage's do not coincide at this time. Just letting you know.

[Mayday/Maddox Wayne]

Mayday had actually crept a little closer during the time between posing his question and receiving an answer, but when Mirage speaks he squeaks and quickly retreats. Maybe better to just leave, yes.

He makes it all the way to the door before he pauses, looking back over his shoulder to eye Mirage again. It really would serve them both to have Mirage as clean as possible, whether or not he agrees, and 'washed' doesn't necessarily mean 'sterilized'.

There's a little voice at the back of Mayday's head saying, 'Be good! Be good!' He ignores it, for the most part. For a moment he considers actually dousing Mirage with one of the harsh floor cleaners, but in the end he sticks with one of the milder body sanitizers. This is, after all, for the common good and not some sort of misguided revenge!

Twisting the bottle's nozzle so it can lay down its heaviest spray, Mayday proceeds to rush back over to Mirage and make a few swipes through the air over his roommate with the sanitizer. Before the heavy mist of disinfectant can even land, he rushes for the door with a highly undignified squeal. Definitely going to go hide in the bridge now.

[Mirage]

Mirage very slowly pushes himself up from the berth, an extremely put out expression on his face. He lifts an arm up and looks down at offending (yet quickly evaporating) liquid with which he has just been soaked.

At least it isn't sticky.

He drawls out to Mayday's retreating back, "You know, in some circles, spraying a prone individual with fluids would be considered either highly demeaning or highly arousing, depending upon one's point of view."

"And you really aren't my type."

Let's see if we can make Mayday run away fast enough to give Blurr some competition, shall we?

[Mayday/Maddox Wayne]

Mayday freezes just past the door frame without looking back, processing Mirage's words. What is even talking about- wait. Wait. Augh!

He clutches his head and yells at the ceiling, "Can't unsee!"

Instead of continuing his mad dash, he falls backwards in what would look like a faint if at the last second he hadn't folded up into his alt mode. Quickly backing out of the room, the treaded bike takes off for the bridge. Mayday doesn't do more than short sprints; running makes his ankles ache.


OOC: Out of thread.