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Post by Rodimus Prime-3 on Apr 23, 2008 9:53:34 GMT -5
"If you were wise," Rodimus says warningly, voice low, "you would fear both my boredom and my anger."
"And he is." Rodimus tsks as he looks down on Swerve. "We'll have to be careful with him. It wouldn't do for our little prodigal himself to miss out on his own return celebration." Prime looks from Swerve to Mirage and pauses as he notes the expression on Mirage's face. He smiles. Oh, but he does have ideas... in fact, without mentioning it to Mirage, he activates his radio to act on said ideas.
There are some hastily set up structures on the far edge of town, opposite the Decepticon base. Some are four walls, a ceiling, and a door welded quickly into place, some are tents, and some are simply already present buildings with appropriately large interiors - warehouses with garage-door accesses and the like. The best of these ('best' being extremely relative here) has been appropriated by the Prime, and it's to this that Rodimus leads Mirage, listening all the while to some of the more mundane particulars of his hound's report.
Once inside the building, Rodimus sets Swerve almost gently against the wall and then moves to the opposite side of the room. As much as Rodimus enjoys the affect of his presence on the unwary, this will work much better if Swerve has no one to blame but himself for his thoughts and actions. The Chosen then settles down casually on an overturned crate, and by the sitting, makes that crate a throne. He looks expectantly towards Mirage, gestures absently with his right hand, and says, "All right. Continue."
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Swerve-3
Rookie
Maintain the Light
Posts: 169
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Post by Swerve-3 on Apr 27, 2008 23:23:58 GMT -5
Vision clouded with warnings and readouts, head ringing with internal alarms, Swerve misses that look Mirage sends his way. He misses Prime's gaze, too. He doesn't even register all of what they say. He just wants them to shut up. Can't he have that much? Or does he need to ram a spanner through their vocorders first?
No! He shakes his head as hard as he can, as hard as he dares when it leaves his stabilisers spinning, and shuts off his optics, hoping he can shut out his captors while he's at it. No, he can't be like this. He can't. He won't be like this. He won't become that person again, no matter how good it'd feel to just beat in someone's face until his hands break and his ventilation stutters to a stop and the world turns red while euphoria sings down his relays. Just for old time's sake.
Swerve whimpers at the unwanted thoughts that keep coming and if he could, he'd cover his head and hide here against the wall where the Prime has left him. All he can do instead is sit, trying not to shiver and failing, and wait as the impulses slowly wane. The alarms drop off one by one until he's left with only a vague, persistent sense of discontent. Unease, too, and fear as he begins to fully process just what Mirage is saying. What Mirage is telling Prime about those other Autobots, the intel he's managed to gather. Swerve has to wonder just how long he's been watching the Autobots to know all this.
Long enough is the answer. And what else does he know?
"N… nnuh," the constable manages to mumble, limply shaking his head. No. This can't be happening; it's a nightmare. It has to be a nightmare and he'll wake up in his bunk screaming like Emirate Xaaron.
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Mirage-3
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Totally Not The Geezer
Posts: 222
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Post by Mirage-3 on Apr 28, 2008 0:48:04 GMT -5
Mirage murmurs, voice barely a whisper, "I fear what you have done to me for your pleasure more than what you may do to me in your anger or boredom." I am no longer my own. But he follows Rodimus, calmly giving the lesser details of his report until they reach their destination.
Once the Prime has settled his prize and seated himself, Mirage does not remain standing. Instead he sits cross-legged next to him, a bit to one side and forward, but still within touching distance. He angles so he can look up at Rodimus, but still keep an eye on Swerve. They are in private now, more or less. For one thing, this Mirage has never been an overly formal mech, and for another, Mirage has learned that there are certain gestures that placate the Prime, please him, and this Mirage has long ago given his pride to his master.
Several minutes go by as he describes what defenses the other Autobots had put in place, and then he begins to relate his observances of the other Prime. "You will not be mistaken for him, by any means. There is the physical differance of optic color, but more than that...he carries himself differently." Mirage narrows his optics and tilts his head down, not looking at the Prime "He is quietly confidant where you are brash, values his comrades and accepts their counsel instead of treating them like tools and toys. He is a leader, not a king." Is that envy in Mirage's tone? "I came quite close to him in the sewers, yet he did not detect me; I don't think he shares that ability with you, but I can not be sure. Also, if his Matrix is as...unique as yours, it does not appear to be common knowledge."
He looks up at Swerve's attempted protest. "Their Emirate is as different from ours as night and day. Their Prime defers to him still. But speaking of him reminds me- will you want the other part of that assignment carried out now, or have circumstances changed too much?"
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Post by Rodimus Prime-3 on Apr 28, 2008 9:48:42 GMT -5
When Mirage speaks of fear and pleasure, Rodimus favors him with a faint smile, one that speaks both of cruelty and fondness. The smile widens as Mirage takes his place at the Prime's feet, and he reaches his right hand as though to brush against Mirage's cheek. The hand comes so near that the feeling of pressure tickling over tactile sensors can be felt, but he does not make actual contact.
His hand withdraws, and the smile twists into a scowl, not at Mirage's description of his other self, but at the tone in his hound's voice as he speaks. That fades to thoughtful consideration when Mirage asks his question, and he shakes his head. "No, there's no time, and we'll need your transport as our transport soon enough. Too much rides on this to change our plans now."
He looks over and studies Swerve for a moment, listening as he struggles to protest. Tone and expression thoughtful, he asks Mirage, "So how'd that concoction work for you?"
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Swerve-3
Rookie
Maintain the Light
Posts: 169
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Post by Swerve-3 on Apr 29, 2008 13:26:54 GMT -5
The debriefing wears on and the additive wears off little by little more; Swerve tries to be discreet about testing his movement even while he clings desperately to the calm that settles about him with the return of that little bit of control. Hands are bound but fully operational again; arms move sluggishly as far as he can tell, shifting them only enough to see if he can. Same for his legs, it seems, cautiously testing from ankle pistons on up. He could run if his legs start feeling a little more reliable. How far he'd get… he isn't sure.
That brief mention of Emirate – there is but one for either world – drags the constable's attention back to Prime and Mirage. "Other part of that assignment"? Regarding Emirate Xaaron.
Mirage means killing him. For an instant, Swerve nearly panics again; like this, he can't do anything to stop the hound. Prime instead stays him and Swerve actually slumps in relief before the rest of the sentence clicks into place. Plans. The Autobots are planning something that requires transport. Skyfire. Emirate Xaaron isn't safe – the Autobots, they aren't safe. They're all in danger. That's the only conclusion Swerve can reach.
"Nno," he groans, voice crackling into static as he forces his aching legs under him and lurches to his feet, back scraping the wall where he leans into it for support. Calm… stay calm, focus. If he has to be angry, be angry for the right reasons. Use that anger. He has to get out, run. Get back to those other Autobots somehow. He tries; his stride is unsteady and his legs still weak, but he tries, bolting for the door with every last erg he can muster.
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Perceptor-3
Rookie
Curiosity killed... everyone else. After a lengthy examination, of course.
Posts: 139
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Post by Perceptor-3 on Apr 29, 2008 23:09:02 GMT -5
Unfortunately for Swerve, the door is quite suddenly and entirely filled with a sickeningly familiar red mechanism just as the Constable reaches it. Just as the Constable reaches it at the best speed he can muster at that moment, in fact, with no room and no warning that a sudden stop is in his future as he crashes into Perceptor with a strut-jarring clang!
Surprise bursts quickly and then fades into a terribly pleased leer.
"Greetings and salutations, Constable."
ooc: posing of Swerve done with permission.
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Mirage-3
Rookie
Totally Not The Geezer
Posts: 222
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Post by Mirage-3 on Apr 30, 2008 0:19:37 GMT -5
Mirage leans ever so slightly into that almost-touch, so slightly that the movement might not even be noticeable, and his optics dims in brightness by a fraction. Always, he claims his loyalty is superficial, that it is concern for his own life which keeps him at the Prime's beck and call. Mirage cannot admit, even to himself, that he has been collared so tightly.
Rodimus' scowl warns Mirage to watch his tone, and the hound pulls back sharply from his master. Insolence and arrogance settle on Mirage's face again, and a thread of anger is in his tone when he answers Rodimus, that same anger that always shows itself whenever Mirage realizes he's given just that much more away.
"Rather well, actually. As much as I dislike him, I must admit Perceptor has his uses. Swerve's racer build was both a help and a hindrance. He processes fuel much faster than the average mech, which spread the drug through his system faster. But at the same time, it burns off faster; less than a day versus the almost two Perceptor specced..."
Mirage breaks off and unfolds swiftly from the floor as Swerve lurches to his feet, smoothness of motion another point this Mirage has in common with his alternate. He darts after the constable, his hands closing on Swerve's shoulders just as the Swerve slams into Perceptor.
Mirage yanks Swerve back possessively, glares at Perceptor, disliking the look in the scientist's optics. The constable is Mirage's prize, his gift to the Prime. Perceptor had best step off.
"As I was saying," Mirage growls out, as he tosses Swerve to the floor in front of the Prime, "It wears off faster, and possibly loses effectiveness with multiple doses. I gave him the second vial just before daybreak."
Manhandling of Swerve-3 done w/ permission
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Post by Rodimus Prime-3 on Apr 30, 2008 7:53:22 GMT -5
Through it all, from Mirage's declaration of dislike for Perceptor (not that Prime wasn't already aware of this) to Swerve's break for freedom to Perceptor's arrival and finally to the point when Swerve is thrown once more at the Prime's feet, Rodimus watches with a faint, cruel, knowing smile.
Rodimus then reaches for Swerve and, assuming he makes the grasp, will grab him by the arm, just where it meets the body, and haul him back to his feet as Rodimus himself stands up.
"Ah. Then you'd best take advantage of it while it has any effectiveness left at all," he answers Mirage smoothly. Then he turns towards the hunter and explains. "I took the liberty of requesting more of the substance from Perceptor," Rodimus gestures idly towards the scientist. "Although I did suggest a... modification. This version should leave the vocalizer operational." Prime takes a few step nearer Mirage, pleased, well-satisfied smile settled firmly in place as he attempts to haul Swerve after him. He looks down at the spy, and his smile grows faintly fond.
"You... do prefer it if they remain vocal, don't you?"
Yes, Mirage, Rodimus pays attention to these things. For that matter, he knows full well the condition Mirage would have Rodimus himself in, had he the opportunity. Not that such an opportunity is likely to show itself.
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Swerve-3
Rookie
Maintain the Light
Posts: 169
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Post by Swerve-3 on Apr 30, 2008 11:45:00 GMT -5
So close to taking that next step toward freedom. So painfully, terribly close. Swerve knows he can just ram the door; he isn't running at his best, but he can still throw his weight around. It should be enough to knock the door open and then he can find a place to hole up until the chemical wears off completely. For that brief beat of the fuel pump, he thinks he might actually make it.
Then his vision fills with red and he slams into something – someone – much less forgiving than a door. The impact rattles him and he staggers back a step or two, dazed, not quite connecting the colour scheme to a name. Until Perceptor speaks and Swerve looks up into that horrible smile.
"Y– you–" Anger flickers somewhere deep inside, teasing, testing. Reminding Swerve. He shies away, both from the sight of Perceptor and the thoughts that spring to mind at the sight of him, only to be hauled violently away from the scientist. Both shoulders flare with pain at Mirage's grip and when Swerve hits the floor, still not recovered enough to stay on his feet when Mirage shoves him, he twists clumsily, trying not to land on either. He loses some of his white paint for the effort, but it's better than the alternative.
An alternative Prime gives him anyway, hand clamping down on his upper arm, on the mangled remains of the console in his shoulder that used to house his radio. Swerve cries out at the fire running down his tactile relays before he can think to stop himself. He bites down on the yelps and whimpers that follow while Prime wrenches him around and drags him back toward the scientist and the hound; he tries to listen instead. What he hears sets his fuel roiling. More of that stuff? More for Mirage to take advantage of while it lasts? And more that will leave Swerve able to talk….
"No," he gasps, ignoring the agonised protests of his shoulder as he pulls against the Prime's hold and ignoring the keen of his ventilation taking another strained, frantic upswing. If he's left with Mirage again, drugged, he just knows he'll find some way to smash the spy's head through something. "No! You… you can't do this!"
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Perceptor-3
Rookie
Curiosity killed... everyone else. After a lengthy examination, of course.
Posts: 139
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Post by Perceptor-3 on Apr 30, 2008 21:02:58 GMT -5
Perceptor's optics narrow at the possessive glare Prime's hound levels at him. Don't worry, Mirage; Prime has already collared the envious scientist on your behalf.
The screams should be exquisite.
"Intriguing," he murmurs, eying the Constable thoughtfully for a moment. "It would be interesting to discover if the efficacy is affected strictly by the specifications of the Constable's systems, or if the failure can also be attributed to the variance in pysiological origin?"
Yes, that is a hint of avarice in the mad scientist's gaze. What he would do to be allowed this opportunity Mirage is being granted - unrestricted access to the Velocitronian. To those systems. To that key.
A pity.
Perceptor turns his attention back to Rodimus, wiping the traces of envy and want from his expression; Shockwave had pricked his pride by calling him owned, but Perceptor is no fool, and the Prime is the force which grants him the freedoms he wants. He will not risk being caged.
Or worse.
"As you commanded, Prime," he intones, pulling the prepared syringe from subspace, all ready to go. The dark liquid almost seems to glitter malevolently in the light as Perceptor holds it out to his Prime.
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Mirage-3
Rookie
Totally Not The Geezer
Posts: 222
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Post by Mirage-3 on Apr 30, 2008 22:12:20 GMT -5
Mirage's narrow to slits at Rodimus' question, at his implication, his offer. Unexpected. Not that the Prime knows Mirage's predilections; there is enough history between them, after all. But to be handed such a bounty- and without having suffered for it- makes Mirage suspicious.
Swerve's desperate plea brings Mirage's gaze down to the constable, that overwrought constable struggling so prettily in the Prime's grasp, and desire overrides caution for the moment. Mirage steps over to the pair. He brings his hand up, trails his fingers down the side of Swerve's face, and his hand closes painfully on Swerve's jaw as Mirage leans in, murmurs into Swerve's audials, "Of course he can, Swerve. This Prime can force us to whatever he wishes, in whatever way he wishes. How could you have forgotten that in a mere handful of days?" The words are for Swerve, but the mixture of hatred and devotion on Mirage's face is for Rodimus Prime alone.
"You are...unexpectedly generous, Rodimus."
Mirage steps away then, and the fact that his hand trails over the Prime's hand as it slides down Swerve's arm is entirely deliberate. Mirage looks at Perceptor, at that glittering vial.
"If I might be so bold as to request privacy? And more substantial bonds."
OOC: Touching Swerve and Rodimus ok'd by respective players.
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Post by Rodimus Prime-3 on May 1, 2008 8:29:13 GMT -5
"Oh, your punishment will come," Rodimus tells Mirage absently, casually - put the honest truth before his optics, but in such a way that he'll expect it at a future time, "but your actions deserve also reward." That Rodimus can accomplish both at once is just... efficiency. "But don't look on my gifts as generosity alone. It also serves my purposes." His smile flickers brighter, fonder, as Mirage's hand trails, but then he hides that away and hauls Swerve further forward, so that Perceptor can inject the liquid as he grins down at the constable.
"Every thought, every anger, every violent fantasy that he'll be unable to act out," and those he will once the concoction's worn off, "those will all be with him, and I'll be no where nearby - he won't be able to pass it off as my effect on him. Those thoughts and feelings, they'll be there, always a part of him, bringing him that much closer to who he really is... what he's meant to be." Prime's smile goes wide and his optics glimmer with anticipation. The very thought is enough to compensate for the fact that he, himself, will be without companionship on the night before battle.
"Privacy you'll have," he gestures to Perceptor with his head, indicating that it's time to inject Sweve. "And new bonds," once Rodimus has a chance to find some that will only be superficially secure... that will give at the right moment. "That is, if you feel you're done with your report."
OOC: We seem to be reaching a good point to fade out on, if all are agreeable. Certainly we can't go much farther in-thread.
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Swerve-3
Rookie
Maintain the Light
Posts: 169
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Post by Swerve-3 on May 1, 2008 23:17:19 GMT -5
Swerve may or may not disappoint Perceptor by fearing Mirage more than the scientist at the moment. Perceptor can drug him, take him apart, even cross-wire his systems to make him watch every agonising second of it. Mirage and the Prime… Mirage may be after something much more fragile, much more precious than his body. The Prime is. That, more than anything else, is what makes the constable shudder and try to pull away from their touch, to shut out their voices.
"Won't… let…" he grinds out through his clenched jaw, voice strained. Won't let them do this to him. Won't let himself fall. Won't go back to the way he was. Won't beat them until their seams break and his hands splinter, won't throttle them with their own motor cables, won't gladly render them into scrap and revel, fuel-spattered, over their remains.
Swerve sobs a small, agonised sound and renews his struggles. He gets nowhere, though, Prime's fingers digging into his shoulder and Mirage's hand clamped on his jaw, stretching his neck so conveniently for Perceptor, looming over him with needle in hand. The sight is enough to make him throw his full weight against the hold on him, wrenching something in both neck and shoulder. Nothing but more pain and a growing sense of futility as he watches, wide-opticked and trembling, while that glinting sliver of metal descends.
OOC: And fade out.
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