|
Post by Mirage on Jan 1, 2011 21:54:13 GMT -5
Mirage catches the non-verbal communication between the Mayhems.
"You can try it, but I wouldn't count on it buying us much in the way of time or privacy," Mirage says quietly, switching to Cybertronian and his typical High Iaconian dialect, "Also, my previous experience here has shown that radio communications are not always secure."
"This establishment is hand and glove with the Quintessons. I believe you are both from a reality where that might mean something."
Mirage doesn't want anyone, even these two, to become the prey of those bottom feeders.
"They know about my ability," Mirage very pointedly looks at Spinister, "With luck, yours" a pause "and Needlenose's are not so well known."
|
|
|
Post by Farlane/Faye Fairlane on Jan 2, 2011 15:37:21 GMT -5
The lack of response was likely a 'no'. Considering the attendant had to be someone who could phase through the walls, a crowbar probably wouldn’t have been terribly useful anyways. Where to start though?
The control panel seemed like an obvious spot, but the controls to that had likely been cut, so any chances of hacking it with his rather rudimentary skills would be out. The two main doors were definitely out if the bastards running this gig had any spark in their processors. There was the maintenance panel up top, but that was likely locked down as well; it’d open up to the elevator shaft though, which’d be pretty handy, depending on whether or not they could get past it.
And, oh yeah, Decepticons. Had to avoid getting killed by them.
“Don’t s’ppose we could all get along for a bit, could we?” he asks hopefully, also in Cybertronian and with his usual heavy spacer accent.
|
|
|
Post by Needlenose on Jan 2, 2011 21:31:15 GMT -5
//I'm sure. I just don't care if he's aware I wasn't always a jet. It's hardly a secret. Enough folks from our reality on his side that he could have probably found that out, anyway.//
Sunbeam would have been useful here. However, he had left his Nebulans at home for his gay robot date because they would have been too whiny otherwise, and now he's stuck with a plain old blaster. Despite Mirage's warning about it being unlikely to do much good, he summons the blaster from subspace and shoots out the camera, shrugging. "I imagine it can't hurt," he answers, also switching to Cybertronian. Like Mirage's, his accent is both Iaconian and suggests one who moved in high society, though he as an artist rather than built-nobility.
He glances at Farlane and chuckles lightly. "Darling, I wasn't aware we weren't getting along for the moment." For the moment. Though if the Autobots aren't ready for the Decepticons to betray them at any moment, no matter what Needlenose agrees to, than that's their own problem!
|
|
|
Post by Spinister on Jan 2, 2011 22:57:00 GMT -5
Spinister has cultivated an accent consistent with a Golden Age Iaconian beat cop because he finds this hilarious. He was actually built in Decepticon territory after the war started. Spinister just likes messing with people.
But he's also not talking. He shoots Farlane a look along the lines of, 'This is me getting along,' and he drops to the floor, tapping at it with his too-quiet cane. Spinister suggests to Needlenose, //Blow out the floor, hover, they drop?//
Spinister wonders just how much Mirage knows about his abilities and why Mirage came back here, knowing what he knows. Reconnaissance in force? What does that say about Mirage's date?
|
|
|
Post by Mirage on Jan 4, 2011 0:23:45 GMT -5
//Mmm, stick closer enough to grab a handrail if needed. They might decide to try and drop us.// Mirage radios to Farlane.
Mirage hasn't moved from where he has been leaning against the wall. Despite the tension in him, he doesn't seem particularly bothered by the situation. Of course, Mirage knows something the others don't. The Quints want their robots alive, and they also like to test them. This could just be them... proving a point.
Also, unless it becomes extremely vital, Mirage will be pretending his cloak still has a timeout feature. The Quints know better, but the Decepticons don't.
"As Needlenose said, we're getting along famously," Mirage drawls. He switches back to common for a moment, and says to know one in particular, "Really, that scathing review I wrote of that chop shop that they called a lab is going to seem like sweet poetry compared to the one I'll write for here, if things go south. Though this time I think I'll include a warning that if a mech wishes to keep his mind and body his own, he should pass this club by."
Back to Cybertronian, "They don't yet understand our language, by the by."
|
|
|
Post by Farlane/Faye Fairlane on Jan 4, 2011 19:50:15 GMT -5
“Well, I guess it’s an upgrade from the usual ‘Bot n’ ‘Con meetings.” Why was everyone so calm? Why was he so calm? They could well be in a deathtrap and everyone might as well be having drinks at a table. It was kinda surreal.
At Mirage’s comment though, he gives the spy and odd look. //Handrail?// the car asks, glancing over at said handrail. //Why would I-- oh.// Farlane turns and watches Spinister tapping around the floor bemusedly.
“Hey, babe, don’t suppose you could warn us before ya pull anythin’, could you?” Nnnoooot likely and Farlane wasn’t going to rely on it, so he hovers by the handrail. He could probably survive the drop, but it’d be annoying anyways. Oh, wait, did this elevator model have a control room on the bottom floor? They could probably get out that way- if the Quints didn’t have any other unpleasant surprises down there. Either way, he gets out his own blaster in case it was needed.
|
|
|
Post by Needlenose on Jan 4, 2011 21:48:58 GMT -5
//Are we sure we want to escalate things just now?// Needlenose asks Spinister, but then the elevator starts moving again. He narrows his optics.
"No one has, so far... that little bit of luck is only going to get us so far, though!" Needlenose answers Mirage, not actually replying to Farlane. Silly question! But then the elevator comes to a stop and opens...
...On the VIP floor. Needlenose looks around, faintly confused, before returning his gun to subspace.
|
|
|
Post by Spinister on Jan 5, 2011 20:30:02 GMT -5
Immediately, there are a pair of pleasant-looking servers greeting them with platters. One addresses Mirage; the other Needlenose. They apologise most effusively for the trouble suffered and attempt to offer custom-tailored platters. Mirage's is based off what he seemed to enjoy the last time he was here, but the drinks and snacks for Farlane are somewhat less masculine than what Rodimus imbibed.
Needlenose's platter is more speculative, with different grades of jet fuel, aviation gasolene, and kerosene. There's also a delicious lump of uranium, artfully presented in a little ClearLeadTM dome.
Spinister straightens up from where he was crouched, aching, tries to take Needlenose's arm, and he stares.
|
|
|
Post by Mirage on Jan 8, 2011 13:07:34 GMT -5
"Oh I know," Mirage drawls, shrugging one shoulder, "But I'll take what advantage I can, for now. At the very least, switching up dialects periodically should buy us some time."
He watches Spinister carefully rise. The helicopter is obviously not well.
Mirage greets the server with a cool smile, one that clearly conveys annoyance, but also says he will suffer through the annoyance. Offering his arm to Farlane, Mirage waits for acceptance of gesture then sails out of the elevator, plucking a Firedancer off the tray. He really did enjoy that drink before. Hopefully, it isn't tainted.
He'll leave Farlane's choice up to the courtesan himself.
|
|
|
Post by Farlane/Faye Fairlane on Jan 9, 2011 8:58:09 GMT -5
“Huh.” Farlane says intelligently when the elevator door slides open. He then rather reluctantly stows his gun away once more, and takes Mirage by the arm after which, the noble promptly sails out like he belonged here. Fraggin’ weirdo.
The pink car begrudgingly grabs a drink for himself before the blue mech could drag him off. It was light pink with tasteful, frilly, heart themed decorations and the the rim of the cup was lined with glittering metallic dust. It was also probably poisoned, but then Farlane is pretty confident he’s probably drank worse things than anything anyone here could make.
It takes a moment longer for him to recompose the blithe arm candy facade but damn him if it wasn’t more smiley and obnoxious than before.
|
|
|
Post by Needlenose on Jan 9, 2011 18:10:53 GMT -5
Needlenose lifts the little ClearLeadtm dome and narrows his optics at it, then he leans over towards Spinister, allowing the spy to take his arm. "Am I leaking?" he whispers in Cybertronian. My, that would be awkward, isn't it? But then, how did they know he's fusion powered? Maybe it's because he's so incredibly hot.
He nods towards Mirage quickly, then attempts to lead Spinister away from the elevator door. "Let's avoid blocking traffic, shall we?" Then he levels a glare at the server. "But rest assured, I do not view the matter as settled."
|
|
|
Post by Spinister on Jan 9, 2011 21:10:40 GMT -5
The drinks and snacks are all top shelf and don't appear to be tainted, poisoned, or drugged in any way. Not even the fun ways.
Spinister murmurs back to Needlenose in Cybertronian, "Don't think so?" He reaches for a silicon-shelled kerosene bonbon, turning it over in his fingers, and he follows Needlenose wherever the fashionista would like to go.
The server offers smoothly, "If there is anything we can do, sir, to make your visit more enjoyable, please let us know."
Mirage and Farlane will find that the offer seems to apply to them, too. If they seem bored, there'll just happen to be entertainment strolling by. Thirsty, then there'll be a server with drinks. They won't go unhappy, whether they like it or not.
|
|
|
Post by Mirage on Jan 11, 2011 15:36:03 GMT -5
Mirage attempts to lead Farlane to their table. It is very obviously their table because of the waiter standing at attention next to it, very carefully paying attention to Mirage and his date while at the same time being sure not to stare.
They might not spend too long sitting, given the various entertainments present, but Mirage wishes to pause a moment and get the lay of the land.
He'll seat Farlane first of course, if allowed, then the spy will take his own seat. Two identical ladies walk by and smile at Mirage, then purse their lips in a frown as they give Farlane a once over. They walk away muttering to themselves and looking rather disappointed.
"Well my dear, that was certainly educational. I had no idea the Decepticon's two deadliest killers were also their hottest couple." Mirage tsks, "Though really, how Needlenose can deal with that glaring paint wreck I have no idea."
|
|
|
Post by Farlane/Faye Fairlane on Jan 13, 2011 4:08:15 GMT -5
Farlane settles in his seat with easy grace, one curvy leg crossed over the other under his skirt and free hand coming to rest lightly atop the table. He watches Mirage as the spy seated himself before glancing around the place, idly wondering how much he could sell the silverware for.
Then the twins come by and look him over like he’s some kind of bad accessory and the pink car barely resists the urge to make a face at their backs. He was pretending to be civilized, after all.
At Mirage’s paint wreck comment, he chuckles quietly, lifting his cup to his lips for a small sip. “No idea either, but I’ll bet those rotors help,” the pink mech smirks although the expression was neatly obscured by the rim of his cup. It does bring up the question of what Mirage thought about his color scheme. “Didn't think I'd get this much excitement for a fancy dinner if I'm honest though.”
|
|
|
Post by Needlenose on Jan 13, 2011 13:59:03 GMT -5
"Oh, I'll be certain," Needlenose says dryly to the server as he moves past her, guiding Spinister towards their table. He finds himself hoping its in view of the Autobots'. That would make it easier to keep track of them.
As he makes sure Spinister's seated, he says softly, in one of the more prominent Decepticon dialects, "We were being sized up, weren't we?"
|
|