Ep. 0.5 - Personal Style - Closed

[Deleted]

Jazz had, in the space of two planetary rotations, grown incredibly fond of the humans. Their languages. Their music. Even, he had to admit, their sense of style. Their dominant culture had a thing for sinuous curves and sleek lines that mirrored some prominant Cybertronian aesthetics.

The result? A lot of their more expensive vehicles reminded Jazz of a few high-class pleasurebots he had had the good fortune to know. It was almost creepy (finding himself wanting to smooth a hand over a particularly lovely Maserati concept had been disturbing. Hot! But disturbing.)

The upside to all of this? Jazz was SO looking forward to picking his alt mode. He was going to look SMOKING. Not to mention getting to go for a drive was sounding distinctly appealing.

"So," Jazz said as he walked into the common room, plopping himself down on the chair between the couches the twins were relaxing on, "where would a mech go if he wanted to scan the sexiest alt mode around?"

[Deleted]

Sides – who was taking up a whole couch all on his own, feet propped up on the arm rest at the far end, reading a data pad – didn’t look up from the data pad he was reading and only hooked a thumb generally in the direction of the right corridor out side the left side of the common room.

“Three doors down on your right, leads down into the cargo hold. This year’s models are on the immediate right and date back from right to left. Google them before you pick and scan one – some of them are concepts and you, generally, don’t want one of those if you’re trying to be stealthy.” He glanced sidelong as the saboteur. “Though, it occasionally pays to hide in plain sight, if you reeeeeally just gotta be th’ most ostentatious thing on th’ road.”

[sunstreaker]

The only reason Sunny was on a couch was because it was easier to kneel on the thing than rearrange the entire set up so that he could reach a particular section of wall. "The sexiest alt mode has already been taken by Yours Truly, so you'll just have to make do, ya
porn freak." A significant glance was cast in Jazz's direction, as if he knew everything that had been going on in the bot's processor while he was scanning the net for "potential alt modes."

Making a face at Sideswipe before turning back to his latest project, a reproduction of Van Gogh's 'Starry Night' extending off one of the viewports, Sunstreaker continued on. "There's some decent stuff in there, but most of it was bought by him." A jerk of the head indicated his twin all too clearly, "but I wouldn't rely on his sense of 'style' for anything."

[Deleted]

Jazz put on his "I have no idea what you're talking about, my thoughts on all those sexy frames were totally platonic" face. Also, he thought that hey, HE wasn't the one who had a showroom of beautiful Earth cars in the cargo hold, so WHO was the perv, exactly?

He grinned at Sunny, optics following the swirls of the painting. For some reason he wasn't surprised in the least that Sunny liked Van Gogh. He smiled, pulsing short-range an offhand glyph for beautiful-vibrant-alive.

Jazz considered. "Actually, what DID you two take as alt modes? Haven't seen you transform yet."

[Deleted]

“Most ostentatious thing on the road,” said Sideswipe, utterly glib. He tossed the data pad and swung his pedes to the floor, sweeping instantly upright and striding off toward the cargo hold. He smirked over his shoulder. “Muceilago Lamborginis are not exactly what I’d call subtle, but if you’re curious the do they make for a nice transformation sequence. Very, you know, complex.” His smile broadened. “Lotsa… moving parts.” And having said that, he continued casually on his way down the hall toward the cargo hold. “C’mon, Sunstreaker! Whatever will Jazz do if ya don’t make fun of every fuckin’ alt he picks?”

The cargo hold was brightly lit, the overheads and floor lights show room gleaming when they entered. Piles upon piles of in the weapon stockade shoved back to the corners to make room for the rows of cars, thirty orbital cycles of collecting. It was fascinating – dead metal that so perfectly mimicked Cybertronian aesthetics that it was almost inconceivable. It had been creepy the first time the Twins had tried to cautiously ping any communication to the dead machines – realizing slowly they were little more than vehicles without even AI systems. Just combustion and explosions contained in metal frames.

Sides gestured at them. “You’re a small mass mech so you should be able to handle most of these sports models. Sunny and gotta use heavy sub-space crush to fit our alts but it’s comfortable.”

[sunstreaker]

Sunny's optics tracked over his twin for a moment before tilting his head to the side and flashing the red and black mech a condescending smile. "He'd end up looking like a two-bit wreck. Like you." It wasn't like Jazz looked any better than that right now anyway. The mech had obviously not been detailed in half of forever and looked like he'd fallen down a cliff or two. Climbing up off the couch after pinging Jazz back with a smugly pleased "thank you", he followed his brother and the saboteur down to the cargo hold.

"Keep your perversion off my transformation sequence," Sunny said as he entered the hold, casting his optics around thoughtfully. Since he was here, he was going to offer his input. There was maybe a half-ton of style between the other two, and that only manageable because Jazz was included in the equation. "This alt is sleek and fast, nothing but gorgeous curves. Plus, it's completely European and sophisticated. Not something I'd expect you to understand." Another look was shot as his brother before Sunny turned his full attention on Jazz. "Since you're going to the States, you'll want to pick something that'll fit over there. They got lotsa Porsches, Jags, BMWs and the like."

The golden mech prattled on like he'd been to the United States a thousand times, but he wasn't uneducated in the matter. Ever since coming to Earth and discovering what the Terrans' vehicles actually were, dead metal shells akin to a change of clothes for a Cybertronian, Sunstreaker had felt the need to watch all of the emerging trends and evolutions in automotive design. He was very well versed in what countries preferred what type of car, color choices, and even accessories. Style was always important, and a bot always needed to look his best.

Which brought the warrior to another thought and he pegged Jazz with another of those stares, giving the smaller bot a critical once over. "You're gonna need some detailing after you pick anyway, or your shiny new alt will be a complete waste."

[Deleted]

Jazz broke off his perusal of the fine curves arrayed before him to whistle appreciatively at the mention of Lamborghinis. They WERE fine looking machines. He could totally see them fitting the twins.

He was half a processor into looking up the latest Jaguars when he caught up with what Sunstreaker was saying about his finish. Jazz--who had indeed fallen down not one, not two, but FOUR cliffs between then and his last detailing--looked down at himself and coughed. He'd been on-mission and out of touch for so long that he'd stopped caring what he looked like, stopped even thinking about it. It wasn't as if he had anyone to impress. Wasn't as if he had had paint and the right tools, either. Pit, the Evil Little Shuttle hadn't even had a washrack.

Jazz made a face. He was no Sunstreaker, but hey, no reason not to put his best plates forward, eh? Right now his best plates still looked like something an Insecticon had been gnawing on. He was surprised that Sunny'd waited until now to mention it, to be honest. "Got me there. Been awhile, that's for sure." He grinned, waggling his browplates. "Lucky for me, I happen to know an excellent detailer. Don't suppose I could make an appointment?"

[Deleted]

“Urgh. Don’t encourage him,” groaned Sideswipe, who’d gotten bored and dropped into a crouch beside a gleaming Ferrari Italia. He pulled what appeared to be a rubix cube from his subspace, though upon being touched the cube came apart and promptly started generating a small magnetic field. He palmed the obiting pieces, rolling the spinning pieces back and forth. The trick appeare to be keeping the pieces moving on the correct oribtals to kept the self-generated motion going. Absorbed he did not look up from the plaything while Sunny looked Jazz up and down like a grubby street urchin thing.

“He already gets his gears jammed whenever I come back from a drive with a fraggin’ ding in my door or some slag.” Blue optics flicked up toward the array of cars – a collection the accumulation of three deca-cycles of fucking around planet-side. Back to the toy. “I think something silver or black or summat. Jazz aint obnoxious enough to pull off a primary color.”

[sunstreaker]

Running right over Sideswipe like he wasn't even talking, spreading his hands and smiling at the smaller bot. "You may address me as 'Maestro' and I think I can pencil you in." All of that pleasantness for Jazz melted like ice in Mediterranean sunshine, and Sunstreaker rolled his optics, huffing offendedly. "Ignore the talking scrapheap with no appreciation for his good looks. Puts all the burden off on me, you see. Thankfully, no one sees him or knows that he's my brother and I can handle being gorgeous enough for the both of us." There was more optic rolling and some muttering about "a disgrace" and "be ashamed of himself", before the well polished mech lifted a single finger into the air.

"It can't be just plain black or silver though. Jazz has too much personality for that... unless you found enough subtlety falling down that cliff face to let your frame do all the talking?" He looked at the bot in question, a little smirk on his handsome face, as he took up a casual lean against one of the many shelving units filled with all of their crap. It was amazing what two young bots could get their hands on with a little cleverness and the internet.

[Deleted]

Jazz bowed deeply. "Maestro. Of course. And hey, are you saying that I can't be subtle? I can't be subtle? Tch. Sunstreaker, you WOUND me...." He tilted his head toward Sideswipe without missing a beat. "Though I do like being called not obnoxious. Oh wait, you said obnoxious ENOUGH...."

Jazz looked down at his frame. His current color scheme was white and black with gunmetal gray detailing and a touch of blue at shoulders and along his sides. He'd had it for a long time. Maybe it was time for something different. Something that would be stylish and classy (of course) but yet not so bright that he'd attract attention from the humans or from Decepticons when he was trying to sneak around.

Jazz prowled along the rows of cars, looking at them speculatively.

And something not too high-end. From what he'd been able to see, the Autobots were in a fairly rural, not-terribly well-off area of their chosen country. A Lamborghini or a Maserati would stick out like the proverbial sore thumb, to human and Decepticon alike. Still, mid-range cars weren't terribly stylish and of course the twins didn't have any Camrys or Corollas here....

A particularly tasty refined line caught Jazz's eye, and he moved closer for a look.

Jazz whistled, eyeing the vehicle with a light in his visor that would have gotten him HIT by any self-respecting femme. "Oh...my." Sleek lines, low profile, right size, pouty little bit of extension in the hood....

"Oh, now you I have not seen before..." Jazz circled, curious, looking for an emblem.

[Deleted]

“Fisker Karma,” said Sideswipe, not looking up from his toy. He poked at the swirled morph of pieces rotating in his palm before, after causing the cube to swarm into a sphere, he looked up. “Figures you’d pick something green,” he sneered, knowing Jazz would have to Google the term since the model they’d stolen was a dark silver color and not literally green.

The Fisker Karma was, aesthetically, a sleek fragging design even if its internals meant exactly nothing to a Cybertronian taking its shape. However accurate their insides to those of a human vehicle, a mech’s engines would always be alien and no bit of sub-spacing and shape-changing could fix that. That said, it was a good design and Sides knew enough about the way it was put together to know that a bot with some modicum of imagination could put together a pretty impressive root mode transformation sequence from those parts.

Sideswipe tilted his head, EMF pinging query. “You gonna swap out your paintjob of keep it dark? Like I said…” A smirk. “Ya ain’t exactly a primary color kinda bot.”

[sunstreaker]

Sunstreaker rolled his hand in an aristocratic manner, regally inclining his head to Jazz's deep bow, and gracious as a king accepting his royal due before breaking into a closed mouth smile. "Just checking to make sure you didn't rattle all your brains loose on the
way down." The golden mech trailed off as Jazz perused, watching the smaller bot quietly for a moment before looking down at his brother when the other twin spoke up. While the mech was distracted Sunny reached down and slid one of the pieces along a vertical
plane, breaking up the spheroid shape.

"Hmm, a more enviormentally friendly Autobot. Figures it would be Jazz." Truthfully though the economical little machine was gentler than the twins' own vehicular counterparts, if just as flashy with its curvature. Eleven miles to a gallon of fuel was rough, and Jazz had always had a thing for trends and fads, so why should his alt be any different?

Sinking into a squat beside his brother, elbows on knees, chin on folded hands, Sunny waited for Jazz to come back to the real world once he was done visually molesting the Fisker. Looking sidelong at his twin, he pinged amusement. "Platinum sorta suits our friend, don'tcha think bro?"

[Deleted]

Jazz tilted his helm in confusion at "green", then at Sideswipe's smirk, sent a query off to the internet. Aha! "Heh, you know me, always tryin' to be responsible!" He even managed to say it with a straight faceplate.

Jazz circled the Fisker once more. Yeah. Yeah, he was REALLY digging this. This had POSSIBILITIES. His analysis was coming back green (hah!), and he was liking the possibilities his processor was showing for how to shuffle his kibble about.

"I'm kind of liking the color. Maybe over some black mesh...more subdued than what I've got, but eh, that isn't necessarily a bad thing." Especially if he was going to be doing a lot of spying...and if the shape of the front he'd dropped in on here was anything like what he was forming in his processor, the Autobots were going to need intel--as the internet said--liek whoa.

Jazz turned back to the twins, fingers hovering above the Fisker's finish, tracing its curves in the air. "So I take it it's got a stylistic thumbs-up from the peanut gallery?"

[Deleted]

“Direct your questions specifically to the peanut gallery,” said Sideswipe, unbothered by the interference with his toy, which he corrected to fractal swarm while he spoke, not looking up. He pointed with extreme unabashedness to Sunstreaker because, while Sideswipe’s sense of style was not, in fact, that terrible he knew that Sunstreaker was getting an absolute kick out of lording his opinion over someone other than his twin for once. Loneliness was a complex concept for a pair of spark-splits, who had eachother, yes, but were part of eachother. So in somewhat they remained alone despite each other’s company. And with Jazz slated to take his leave, Sideswipe would rather let his brother hog the conversation and remember what it was like to have mechs you trusted around instead of ones bent on using you.

“His Golden Majesty is the residential artist type. I, however, am a slovenly pig and don’t give a slag about a single panel of paint on this frame. Just ask him. Wait.” He pause, a mock haunted look crossing into his optics as if reliving a vivid and terrible moment in his life. “No. Don’t. He will go on and on and fraggin’ on.”

[sunstreaker]

"For the record, fuck you both," Sunny replied, a tight smile stretching his mouth as both hands came up in a particularly human gesture he'd grown fond of, flipping both of the mechs off. "You're damn right you're a slob who seems to think he's a truck instead of an exotic super car," came the aggrieved retort, one hand shoving at his brother's shoulder. "As for you," the Lamborghini continued, shifting his focus onto Jazz and pointing at the smaller bot with an imperious finger. "You call me that again and you'll be getting a thumb in your optic."

The idea of Jazz being around was finally settling in the golden twin's processor after having spent the entirety of the previous night mulling it over. Which was also why he wasn't being more than mildly mouthy today. Sunny was too tired to put up a proper verbal fight. Before coming to Earth, he'd been an accomplished insomniac plagued with night terrors but for nearly three deca-cycles now he'd been getting something close to normal recharge. This had lowered the warrior's tolerances so much that now two cycles without downtime felt like what a joor used to. And it made Sunstreaker crankier than usual.

However, he wasn't to the point of feeling homicidal toward family and friends yet so the other bots were safe from everything but Sunny's sharp tongue. "Make your undermesh carbon black and keep your plating that platinum tone and they'll set each other off
nicely, and make you look like there's more of you than there actually is. Keep your clumsy aft from getting hit too easily." The warrior rubbed between his optics, speaking to the floor before looking up at the other two. Jazz was a fellow overdrive addict in spite of his light frame, and also liked to look good. It was the best way Sunstreaker could think of to combine the attractiveness and defense in that moment, without altering the mech himself.