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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jan 28, 2008 21:40:54 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron smells faintly of cleaning solvent, and his gold and silver armour gleams. He wouldn't have looked better for this if he had planned it, but if anyone wants to think that he did, he won't dissuade them.
The door to his office is open, welcoming even, and he fusses over the seating arrangement. Rodimus Prime has his own desk and chair, so no worries there, but Kup, Mirage, and this strange new Swerve will need places to sit.
Emirate Xaaron is relieved that his duplicate won't be here right now. He feels that he would be obligated to smack him in the face, and Emirate Xaaron would like to avoid a cross-dimension diplomatic kerfuffle.
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Post by Rodimus Prime on Jan 28, 2008 22:38:11 GMT -5
Rodimus Prime is already in the room, and if the Emirate allows, he is assisting him in arranging chairs. Xaaron has already explained what's going on, and Rodimus is currently not even bothering to hide his anxiety, though the mask will go up when the others arrive.
"I don't like this," he complains as he finally moves to stand behind his desk. Then he sits down. He's a tall mechanoid, and some find height intimidating. "Things like this have a tendency to blow up in a bad way," notes the Time Wars veteran.
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Post by Kup on Jan 28, 2008 22:43:16 GMT -5
Before too long the clang of footsteps in the hallway herald the arrival of Kup and his companions. He notes the door open, so he steps right in, then steps to the side, to allow Swerve and Mirage space to enter.
He gives his usual 'lifer's salute' before he realizes that he should probably be more formal, what with the company and all. He starts to straighten up to give a proper one, then dismisses the idea. Too late now. Instead he just inclines his head towards the both of them. "Emirate Xaaron. Rodimus Prime." He pauses, trying to think of what to say. There really is no proper procedure for a situation like this, is there? Finally, he just shrugs and gestures to the door. "Here's that other Swerve."
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Swerve-3
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Post by Swerve-3 on Jan 28, 2008 23:42:39 GMT -5
Swerve's steps as he follows Kup are almost overly deliberate; he isn't exactly nervous, but he is tense. And worried. He hasn't really marched into the unknown for a long time, and now here he is, heading into Primus knows what between two Autobots who are and aren't familiar. There haven't been any surreptitious, threatening prods of a rifle barrel at his back. That's a reassuring dfference in this other-Mirage.
What little comfort Swerve takes in that is gone right along with his composure as Kup announces him when he's only halfway through the door and he hears that name, sees the familiar and unfamiliar gold-and-silver Autobot. Emirate Xaaron – his Emirate Xaaron – hasn't had a shine like that in some time. He hasn't looked that collected in even longer. Swerve wasn't expecting to see him here, either; Kup never mentioned anyone but Rodimus Prime. It's a jarring sight that leaves a strangely cold feeling in Swerve's ventral valves, and though he knows he's staring, optics wide and bright, face slack in surprise, he can't seem to help himself. It takes an interminably long two seconds for the constable to recover himself and stride fully into the office. He stops short of the chairs that have been placed, presumably for himself and his escort, and pulls himself stiffly to attention before these Autobot leaders. They aren't quite his leaders – not that this is necessarily a bad thing, he decides when he faintly realises the anxious calm he's clutching about himself like a protective cover hasn't been disrupted by the unwanted, often painful thoughts that so often come to him in the Prime's presence – but respect and courtesy go a long way. Hopefully.
"Emirate Xaaron," the name comes awkwardly to that much calmer crowned visage, "Rodimus Prime," and this name even moreso to the… the blue-opticked red Autobot at the other desk, "sirs. Pleased to make your acquaintance." Swerve salutes them both. "Constable Swerve, Velocitron Third District Traffic Enforcement, at your service."
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Post by Mirage on Jan 29, 2008 0:17:31 GMT -5
Mirage enters behind Swerve, taking up position just inside and to one side of the door. He doesn't sit, instead reclines against the wall in his usual fashion. Besides, he is the guard here, not the interviewee. He inclines his head respectfully at both the Emirate and the Prime in turn.
Swerve's introduction, however, does make Mirage boggle a bit. Traffic Enforcement? Swerve? When all of this is said and done, Mirage is looking up Perceptor and snagging some of that concentrated drink the scientist has been working on. Because if he's going to be having audio/visual hallucinations, he might as well have a good reason for them.
Mirage shifts position so that he is more comfortable, settling in for a long wait.
OOC: I don't want to hold up this thread, but i also don't want to make a lot of "Mirage stands and listens, etc" posts. So consider him skippable, unless addressed. He'll interject from time to time, most likely.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jan 29, 2008 9:36:40 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron doesn't mind a bit of help with the chairs. A second opinion can be handy. He nods at Rodimus Prime's assertion and notes, "When Autobots go bad, we go really bad." One need look no farther than Flame, but he could say as much of Rodimus Prime himself.
Maybe it's just a problem with flaming red Autobots?
Nah, couldn't be.
Granted, it does say something about the organisation here, that Kup can tender such a salute and doesn't expect any punishment, doesn't it? It's something an outsider might notice, especially a twitchy, wary outsider. Emirate Xaaron's gaze at this new Swerve is oblique, taking on that he's staring, without staring in return. Traffic Enforcement? Now that's very interesting, indeed. Why did they have to get the Swerve who does the illegal sports? Granted, maybe this guy is a corrupt cop or something. They'll see.
Emirate Xaaron glances over to acknowledge Swerve, before replying with, "At our service? That's quite generous of you, since you can't even know for sure who we are, or what kind of service we might be asking of you. At the moment, however, I'd like to hear about where you just left."
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Post by Rodimus Prime on Jan 29, 2008 11:28:33 GMT -5
Rodimus stifles a grin at Kup's sort-of-salute and awkward introduction, but some of the smile leaks through, anyway. His optics open in surprise at Swerve's occupation. Traffic cop? Velocitron has traffic cops? Well, okay, apparently his Velocitron does.
After the salute, he gestures to the chairs, a warm and welcoming smile that looks natural because, really, it is settles on his features. "Please, help yourselves to a seat." Well, okay, looks like Mirage is helping himself to a bit of wall, but given Rodimus's phasing, it's a request, not a requirement, anyway.
Then Emirate Xaaron has his response, and asks his questions, and Rodimus's smile fades and he falls silent to listen.
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Post by Kup on Jan 29, 2008 11:32:46 GMT -5
Kup shares Mirage and Rodimus's surprise in response to the traffic cop thing, though he doesn't show it. Well, okay, that's weird, but he's heard of and seen weirder. When the seat is offered, Kup accepts, and he settles into his chair, though he turns it so as better to keep an optic on Swerve.
OOC: Like Mirage, I'm moving into 'skippable' mode.
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Swerve-3
Rookie
Maintain the Light
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Post by Swerve-3 on Jan 29, 2008 16:44:04 GMT -5
Rodimus Prime smiled. Not a smile that promised suffering, or a smile that meant destruction. Simply… a smile, kind, maybe friendly, open and without a trace of malice. Much of Swerve's tension visibly drains at that sight. He can't imagine that his Rodimus Prime is or was ever capable of such a warm expression. It's saddening in a way.
"Thank you kindly," says the constable with nothing but heartfelt sincerity, "but I'm alright for the moment, sir." He does settle into something like a parade rest, though, hands clasped loosely at his back, shoulders relaxed to a point. He isn't at ease – he might not be for quite some time – but some of the wary, worried edge is gone. There hasn't been any distressed communication from his Emirate Xaaron so far and Swerve himself has been met with courtesy, if coolly. He'll gladly take that over bridled wrath.
Perhaps ending up here won't prove quite such a mistake as he initially feared. He can only hope.
"I believe that's the service I offered," he replies carefully to Emirate Xaaron after a pause to consider his phrasing. He did, after all, offer to help however he's able should the Autobots he knows happen to follow him and his leader to this world. Nothing less and nothing more was promised. Yes, he's putting himself out, maybe foolishly so, on behalf of virtual strangers, but as always, he hopes – wants to hope – that his efforts to trust their word will ensure his Emirate Xaaron's safety. "Kup told me none of your Autobots meant me or… or Emirate Xaaron harm," Swerve adds. "I'm taking him at his word for that, sir, and I'd like to think I'm not mistaken for doing so." His tone is even and mild, as it was to begin with; he means what he says without hint of sarcasm or flippancy.
Swerve takes a bracing, deep cycle of air into his ventilation, fans whirring audibly, and settles his weight. The recounting is a heavy affair, at least for him.
"Where we left," he begins with the faintest emphasis on that important pronoun, "is very much like this place, actually, from what I've seen. We occupied a similar city, dwelled in a similar base. Similar in construction, at least… yours has seen better days and…." He pauses again, debating the wisdom of his next words and trying very hard not to look directly at Rodimus. "…Kinder commanders than ours. I may have heard once before that he destroyed portions of the building because he thought it looked better that way. I'm afraid I can't be sure, but I digress.
"We're Autobots and we were with Autobots, but the Autobots I – we – know aren't what I thought they were when I first met a few of them on Velocitron. They aren't the protectors they said they were, unless it's their own interests they're protecting." Swerve's voice is almost too calm, tone painstakingly neutral. It's that or let loose the bitterness. "Anything that doesn't serve their purposes – the Prime's purposes – doesn't last long," he finally murmurs, the words coming hesitantly. There is such a thing as too much honesty and he doesn't know where the line lies with this Emirate Xaaron or this Rodimus Prime. "Anything… or anyone. They would've killed Emirate Xaaron at the Prime's command, but I disobeyed the orders for my reassignment and helped him get away. I couldn't let that happen." He stops here, waiting for his audience to digest those morsels. If there are further questions, he'll answer them, then continue.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jan 30, 2008 10:16:54 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron replies mildly, "Kup is a good one to put your trust in." Decepticons and other evil-doers can trust that Kup will stop them, after all.
He glances over at Rodimus Prime speculatively. A Rodimus Prime who destroys things because he thinks they look better that way? Could he be a Prime in touch with his inner Chaos God? Such a thought is horrifying, but Emirate Xaaron doesn't let it show. Panic has no place in his life.
Emirate Xaaron contemplates the idea of Rodimus Prime having him killed. Should he become irrevocably suborned somehow, he hopes that the boy could. He inquires, "And why did you Rodimus Prime want to have my doppelganger killed?"
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Post by Rodimus Prime on Jan 30, 2008 11:28:56 GMT -5
"And please, Swerve, don't..." Rodimus frowns a moment as he searches for the best way to phrase this, "don't worry about sparing my feelings. This other person you describe, he may look like me, he may sound like me, he may share my name... but based on what I've heard so far, he's certainly not me. Say what you need to about him in order to answer our questions. I won't take offense."
He then goes back to listening intently, leaning back in his chair as he does to make himself a bit more comfortable.
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Swerve-3
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Post by Swerve-3 on Jan 30, 2008 20:49:50 GMT -5
A quick glance, apologetic and grateful in one flicker of dull golden optics, is Swerve's acknowledgement of Rodimus Prime's words. Grateful for that leeway, apologetic for whatever distress he might cause by speaking freely. Then the constable's attention is on Emirate Xaaron once more.
"I can't really speak as to Prime's reasoning, sir." Swerve is actually very glad for that fact; being near Rodimus Prime is often more than bad enough. He doesn't want to imagine what it must be like inside that head. "If I had to hazard a guess… Prime probably got tired of abusing him." And to say that Swerve is ashamed he never managed to put a stop to it is an understatement. That, and so many other things… not that he never tried standing up to the hellish Prime. He did, and more than once. Each time, he received an excruciating reminder of how much weaker he is than the Autobot leader.
But he still has things to explain, hasn't he?
"Prime," he goes on haltingly, "he's the cruelest and most ruthless of all, but… the others aren't much better. They're all bent on destruction. He just– How to put it…?" How to explain calmly and clearly that the Prime's fury and bloodlust are as infectious, as insidious as any virus and he needn't even say anything to bring someone down to his level? "His very presence makes them even worse. He inspires more violence just by looking at them. Just by standing there. Being around him… the anger gets into our heads." Swerve is not immune, not by a long shot. Prime's influence always hits him hard, dragging his temper far beyond his control; the first time they met face to face, Swerve had been reduced to a snarling caricature of himself until his systems went into shutdown from the heat.
Swerve grimaces, very faintly, and shakes his head to dismiss those thoughts. With any luck, such things are behind him and he won't have to face that Rodimus Prime again for as close to ever as he can hope. For his own sake, and for Emirate Xaaron's sake.
"The Autobots enjoy bringing ruin around them. They don't care who or what so much as how well it burns. If they come here…." If they come here, it's he and Emirate Xaaron who've led them. "…I hope they don't. But if there's any way I can help prepare, please, let me assist." The better prepared these Autobots are, the safer it will be here, and if lending aid can make even the smallest reparation for what his decision may have brought down on these people, he'll give whatever he can.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jan 30, 2008 23:20:08 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron frowns. Kup told him the other him was a coward, but the thought that he'd let himself be abused seems completely bizarre to Emirate Xaaron. He knows fear, but he also backtalked to Galvatron. Emirate Xaaron would rather die than compromise himself.
He looks over Rodimus Prime yet again, and a thought hits him. Emirate Xaaron inquires, "This Rodimus Prime clearly lacks that feature. Are there other differences that you can see?"
Being able to tell apart which Prime is evil and which one just has a Unicron in his tummy without getting in close enough to be driven to seething rage would be helpful.
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Post by Rodimus Prime on Jan 30, 2008 23:43:54 GMT -5
Rodimus's lips part faintly and his optics widen in a faint, but clear expression of fear as Swerve describes the violence-inducing ability of his alternate self. Of course, he'd be disturbed upon learning that any powerful enemy had such an ability. He'd have been frightened to learn Galvatron did.
As Xaaron notes his lack of a rage-inducing aura, Rodimus mutters softly, "Thank god." Then he shakes his head and sighs faintly, before adding, "For that matter, describing those differences not related to personality between what you've been able to observe about the Autobots you've met here and those you know in that other reality may be helpful."
By the sounds of it, if they include personality differences, they could be there for weeks.
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Swerve-3
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Post by Swerve-3 on Jan 31, 2008 18:05:59 GMT -5
Swerve once again looks Rodimus Prime's way when prompted. He's relieved and grateful indeed that this Prime doesn't have the same effect as the Prime he knows. Somehow, it seems worse to think of a Prime who can smile as this one does while he exults in everyone around him being driven into a killing frenzy.
"…Optics," rasps Swerve, staring now at Rodimus Prime but not quite seeing him. A moment passes, then he blinks once, twice, and the blank look on his face is gone, his voice surer as he repeats himself more clearly. "His optics, sir. They're red… not blue." He's about to say more, but stops himself before another word can squeak out and makes no secret of turning to check Mirage's position. He faces Rodimus and Emirate Xaaron again just as abruptly as he glanced away. "My apologies," is all he says of the matter.
Of the few Autobots here he's seen, he hasn't noticed very many differences in appearance. All the more unsettling, that.
"Well," he continues, "Kup, for one. The Kup I know keeps a better polish on his plating. Bumblebee looked – ah. The Bumblebee I know hasn't any rust. He has a different chassis, and his paint isn't as faded." Thinking back on it leaves Swerve vaguely annoyed with himself for not picking up on those differences at the time. "Mirage looks much the same, as do Perceptor and Arcee, but they all three carry themselves differently."
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