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“I’m telling ya, he was a Towerling. Prettiest mech I ever saw in person, even all scuffed up as he was.”
Mirage couldn’t help but pause at the sound of a familiar vocalizer, multiple emotions running through him, but the dominant one was amusement, so he focused on that.
“Naw, I’m telling ya, he didn’t offline me ‘cause he liked me. No, I don’t know why! But he seemed ta like his boss, too, so maybe he’s just like that.”
“I’m telling ya, the sleekest frame ya ever saw, with pretty blue optics that matched his paint, and his servos were just graceful, and—”
Let it never be said that Mirage didn’t know how to make an entrance. And probably a good call to do it now, before his Energon Guard could continue moving lower on the physical description. Walking in during a description of his valve would be considerably more awkward.
Moving with deliberate grace that aimed at not-quite-sensual, Mirage opened the door and stepped in. Six cells opened off a small hallway, allowing prisoners company, but keeping them all separately incarcerated to prevent any incidents. His Energon Guard was in the closest on the right, and his optics were welded onto Mirage as he broke off his sentence, stunned. Mirage stepped closer.
“Hi,” he said with a small, soft smile.
“Hey,” EG responded, still looking stunned, but with a little bit of a grin beginning to pull at his derma.
“Rust stick?” Mirage asked, holding it out. “I promise it’s not poisoned. They’re from what Jazz says is the best sweet shop in Iacon, and I believe him.” EG barked a laugh.
“I figure you can just take me out back and shoot me if ya want, no need to poison a perfectly good rust stick,” he said, and took the treat.
“We’re not going to do that,” Mirage said. “Either of those, actually. But on that subject, would you be willing to speak to me? You’re perfectly free to say no, with no negative consequences,” he hurried to add. “It’s just…I believe I owe you a conversation. If you would like.” EG gave him a searching look.
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “I think I’d rather listen to you than most of these Bots, anyway.” Mirage smiled again, and carefully tapped in the code for the cell. These cells would automatically cycle the code every time it was used, unlike the one he and Jazz were kept in.
Mirage hesitated a moment, then decided Jazz would say to trust his instincts, and held out a servo. EG stared at a moment in disbelief, then carefully took it. Mirage gave a gentle tug to get them both moving.
“So,” EG said carefully as they exited. “Don’t think I ever caught your designation.” Mirage smiled.
“Mirage,” he said. “What’s yours?”