2016-06-25 A Certain Sort Of Atmosphere

From Transformers: Lost and Found

2016-06-25 A Certain Sort Of Atmosphere
Date 2016/06/25
Location Lost Light - Recreation -- Gallery
Participants Mirage, Vortex
Summary After carefully managing to avoid the rotary at the Body Shop and everywhere else, Mirage finally 'bumps' into Vortex. He's not too happy about it.

Not all brought on the Lost Light is personnel but also culture, and the desire to share and explore that. Upon entering the ship's modest museum, the faint melodies greet visitors, music collected from locations the Lost Light has visited. The lights are dimmer here than the other locations on the ship, nearly dark. This is to help highlight the rows of holographic walls, displays that show a gallery's worth of interesting sights. Moments of historical significance are rendered for viewing, as well as shared pieces of personally crafted art, or vid-caps of locations the Lost Light has visited. Holographic replicas of cultural artifacts lure attention over here or a particularly interesting visual recreation of perspective call to the senses over here.

At the far side of the room from the entrance is a small stage, complete with a microphoned podium. It would be ideal for small productions or concerts.

Mirage paces the dim room like a caged tiger. The scout's lip components twitch as he mutters to himself, a jumble of barely audible words that only makes sense to him. He has finally formed a plan to convince the higher-ups to allow him to open his lounge, but there are a few passing details left. One of which? Where to host this 'proof of concept' party. The scout's eyes probe the gallery. One option, but he wonders if he can convince them to let him rent it out for one night.

Mirage rolls the tape measure he brought along in the palm of his hand. Before he even asks, he wants a better idea of the space he'll be working with. Leaning down on his hands and knees, thinking himself alone, Mirage begins to do just that. To anyone who doesn't know what he's doing, it probably looks very strange.

Hearing a noise, Mirage's optics snap up. "Who's there?" he demands, trying to scramble back to his pedes before they notice.

Vortex is still on a hunt for his most elusive brother. Okay, Blast Off really isn't that elusive but the mech just doesn't like to get out which can make him both easy and hard to pin down. OR, you know, he might be in space. That's a big chance. But the Combaticon has literally nothing else to do but wander around looking for him so might as well, right? Spinning one of the little toys he got from Rung's office- the light up one no less- he walks into the gallery on gentle steps. One sweep of his visor made it apparent that his fellow Combaticon wasn't soaking up the 'culture'. Yep, nothing brown and snooty here. But, what's this? Something blue and snooty.

Vortex tilts his helm, stepping over and closer to get a better look. Hummm... What is Mirage doing? The colorful rotary takes the toy and gives it a toss up, a light thwack echoing in the quiet room as he catches him. Whoa, look at that racecar jump. Cheerily, he waves with a slight bounce on to his pedes as he stands there. "Hi! So, what'cha do~ing?" He chirps, rotors folding with a flick.

When Mirage sees who it is, his first reaction is to snap and hold his ground. Vortex is not the only one capable of defending his personal space, after all, but he settles for glowering at him through squinted optics. The scout brushes an invisible speck of dust from his hands before speaking. "Taking measurements. I'm thinking of hosting an event here," he explains. "Nothing that need concern you."

Because guess who wouldn't be getting an invitation? Vortex. If his behavior towards Prominence had been anything to go by, it is better that way. Mirage will not tolerate any rogues messing up his meticulous plans.

Vortex's helm tilts his helm in the opposite direction now, rotors now perking in curiosity. He simply rocks on his heels, tossing his toy to his other servo and then back again. "Neat! But I bet you could go to logistics for measurements. They probably have the dimensions of every room on the ship." Rumor has it the new head has a weird thing for floorplans or something. "What kinda event are you hosting? Though... If you're considering this space and seeing who you are, I can guess it's gonna be fancy! Sparkly engex served in those tall, thin glasses and carried around on trays. Refined seems right up your alley!" Blast Off would love the idea of that. Huh, maybe they should plan a fancy party anyways...

Apparently the 'nothing that need concern you' isn't a strong enough hint. Mirage watches Vortex toss an... object (what isn't it? he can't quite tell, seeing nothing more than a blur of movement) repeatedly into the air. The corner of his lip components twitch downward. "Being here in person helps me visualize anyways. There's only so much that can be done with floorplans."

Mirage waves his hand dismissively, turning to pace the room again. He does not like to be seen down on his hands and knees with strangers about if he can avoid it, so his measuring will have to wait a few more minutes. "Just a small celebration of our accomplishments on Velocitron. It will just be me and a few friends," he lies. "Like I said, hardly anything of interest to you."

Vortex leans a bit, rotors atwitter, before sweeping a leg and following Mirage around the room. "I like seeing things too," he remarks, not once stopping his toss of the former touch bait. "And that's nice. So, just going to be Autobots? Or just mechs who were down on Velocitron?" Friends can have many implications.

There's this pause and then the rotary scampers forward to jump in front of Mirage. "Hey! Do you need any entertainment? I could do that- watch this." The toy passing between servos is suddenly tossed into the air, Vortex ducking and tilting his helm, pedes shifting. The toy comes to a stop in the air for less than a beat before falling back down and...

<FS3> Vortex rolls Reaction+Reaction: Good Success. (7 6 8 6 6 8)

The Combaticon sticks the landing, the toy now perched precariously on the tip of his help. He fingerguns at Mirage in victory. "Ehhh? Nifty, right?"

Mirage comes up short, his vents hitching in surprise when Vortex leaps in front of him. He can't help but think that the behavior that Vortex is displaying now is completely at odds with what he experienced before. Irksome, yes, but not hostile. Why the change? And then there is the matter of his questions. Mirage gives a weary sigh; while he does not want to answer, he knows that Vortex will hear about it from others soon enough. "No, it's also a proof of concept. I'm hoping to open a lounge, and I'm inviting the mecha I need to show my ideas to. Command and friends."

"Also, that's... something." He watches Vortex balance the object with a skeptical expression. This is the farthest thing he wanted from the night's entertainments. "I'm sure the mecha at Swerve's must appreciate it." (That is an insult in Mirage's mind).

Vortex seems to beam at the compliment. "Heh, Brawl really liked that one. Don't think I've done it at Swerve's yet though... But I'll find out soon enough." That could be fun! He should bring Riptide, show off all this balance. With a twist of his helm, the toy falls and he snags it once more, fiddling with it. His rotors all fan out and he shifts a bit. Notice anything Mirage? Maybe his pain colors? Hmmmm? Askaboutthemaskaboutthemaskaboutthe.

"A lounge sounds like a good idea." Vortex adds, claws tapping against his toy. "I know we sorta have one but that's not what you're going for, I imagine. A nice place to hang out? Someplace with atmosphere. Am I close?" He pauses and looks back down at the object as it lights up pink. Ah, he loves pink.

Now that Vortex has shown off his little trick, Mirage expects him to move. But no, he remains adamantly in the scout's path as if there is something more to see. Tilting his helm to the side, Mirage ponders Vortex's odd behavior. It doesn't even cross his mind to notice or comment on Vortex's new paint job; even if he had noticed, he doesn't know Vortex well enough for it to matter to him.

"Well... you're not wrong," Mirage mutters. Reaching up, he rubs at his nasal bridge. He can't take it a moment longer; this bizarre situation has to be addressed. "Excuse me for being so forward, but why the sudden interest and amicability? If I do remember correctly, in our last meeting you were hissing and threatening mecha I consider to be friends. If you want something from me, you might as well say it outright."

Vortex lifts his helm, fingers stopping their fiddling for just a moment... Then he's turning the object over in his servos. "The last time- ah! Right!" He waves a servo dismissively. "I was massively hungover. It happens! You see, Primus has cursed me with horrible, terrible hangovers. Blast Off's orbital pot shots from space got nothing on them!" He chuckles a little. "And I wasn't threatening them... Was I?"

There's a moment of ponderous silence before he makes a so-so motion. "But what, I can't be curious? Not even a little? You're doing something sorta cool and I take some interest? Right, right. Bad Combaticon. Bad. Go back to your dog house, how'd you get off your leash?" Vortex rolls his shoulders like one would roll their optics. "Right, sorry. You'd think a guy trying to open a lounge would want interest." There's a pout in his voice, rotors visibly sagging.

Mirage's frown deepens. "I don't know about you, but I consider waving experimental guns around at mecha as threatening, especially when we don't know what they'll do," he explains. Yes, they'd been trying to reverse the alt-mode lock, but Mirage is still a little sore that everyone had seemed to ignore his suggestion to take things cautiously.

Sidestepping Vortex, he continues his pacing. "Also, you are welcome to be as curious as it pleases you. That does not mean I am required to indulge it. As you said yourself, I wish to foster a certain sort of atmosphere."

"Call me naive to believe that our species is capable of decorum, but I am going to continue to do so." And he'd not yet seen any proof that Vortex is willing to show any sort of restraint, and that is enough for him to be skeptical at best.

Brainstorm seemed pretty sure the whole slinging guns at people would work. Why should he have questioned the weapons expert? Vortex turns to watch Mirage, not following him this time. "Ah, I see. You want bots to be interested and curious. Just not bots like me. Heh, now that reminds me of Cybertron- back in the day! Good to know our species can retain that 'decorum', as you called it, even millions of years later." He goes back to looking at his toy, spinning it between two claws.

"But that's how things work, its alright... IF you don't want me around, I get it. Scary Decepticon, grrr. But maybe... Maybe you can make one exception?" Vortex still doesn't look up. "My brother, he's... He's high class, like you. And he's real good about being in an atmosphere." SHUTTLE JOKE HAHAHA! "Anyways, he'd appreciate it- I would too. Maybe he could be included among your 'friends'?" The Combaticon looks up at Mirage.

Mirage bristles slightly at Vortex's insinuations. It has little to do with the other's faction, but the fact he had seen no hint of remorse or even questioning of his own behavior. But then again, he is used to being accused as a traitor. This isn't so different. Without the least hesitation, the scout turns on his heel and begins to stride towards the door. "It's a little premature for me to be handing out invitations when I've not even settled on a venue and a date," he remarks.

"Now, I hope you enjoy the rest of your night. I'm afraid I must be going, though."

Vortex's rotors fan and then fold and he quickly follows after Mirage. Partially because he's not quite done. And partially because he doesn't want to be left in that room alone again. Someone walking out on him. At least Mirage wouldn't comment on his lack of friends... Not that what Getaway said bothered him at all. Nope. "I mean it, though! Just- consider it! He's learning fencing from Skydive and its probably mostly because its cultured and Skydive is all- well, like you! Please, invite him. I'll even make sure Whirl doesn't somehow crash your event. I won't either! It would just..." It would make Blast Off so happy. The rotary vents harshly, slowing to a stop in his follow of the Autobot. "Don't hold my shitty self against my brothers. So... Just consider? Will you?" He holds the touch bait tightly against him, looking right at Mirage.

Mirage stops short at the door, hearing for the first time something that hints that Vortex is perhaps not as volatile or belligerent as he seems. The scout tilts his helm backwards, yellow optics curious but cautious. "You do realize there is a difference between..." he pauses, grimacing as he says the word, "shitty behavior and shitty mecha. You can do one without being the other, depending on how you respond to it."

Mirage reaches up to rub at his nasal bridge again. The very reason he expects polite behavior of everyone is he feels if he ceases to do so he will have lost hope in the innate goodness and potential of Cybertronians. But try explaining that in words. "I did not mean to insinuate that I was seeking to bar them for your past behavior. I apologize if that is how it sounded. I am simply..." he shrugs. He had felt much the same way as when someone calls him a traitor, and that causes him to withdraw. "Very well. I will consider it."

Is Mirage trying to say what he did was bad but he's not bad? Hah! Nice try, Mirage! But self-loathing demands the truth! And the truth is that he's pretty damn sure he's a piece of shit. But Vortex visibly brightens. "Thank you! He likes wine- Orion Three Orchard and only the proper vintage- and he likes art. But he likes the art where you can absorb the whole piece and not the itty bitty details. And poems, he loves poems. And he's a fan of history too. And silence. And not touching things. And he's very polite." When he wasn't too busy being a social sore thumb. The rotary comes to a rambling stop, rotors spinning. Mirage is considering inviting him, not taking him out for a good time. What can he say? He can gush about his brothers. "Right, thank you. Good luck with your lounge. This place could use some class, right?"

"I'll keep that in mind," Mirage answers, once more caught off guard by Vortex's reaction. He certainly spoke about this Blast Off with great enthusiasm, if nothing else. It's clear that he cares. Well, at least it is now that Mirage is making more of an effort than to just look down his nasal bridge at Vortex.

Mirage gives a thoughtful hum, and his frame relaxes. Friendship is unlikely any time soon, but maybe Vortex will be more tolerable from now on. Time will tell. "And good luck with your..." he pauses. Did he know anything about Vortex's projects? Not really. He fishes for something else he can comment about. "Good luck with your new paint job. Such striking colors."

Nailed it. He had had a different paint job before, right? He thinks so. Probably. With that, Mirage waves and slips from the room.

Vortex preens, not minding how Mirage didn't seem to know much outside his own project. That's okay though, because no one really wants to know what a Vortex project. Usually they aren't pretty. "Thank you!" He chirps after him, tossing the toy up to balance on top of his head as he walks in another direction. Mirage has earned his reprieve. Blast Off is going to be so excited when that invitation came! And if it didn't come, there would be suffering.

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