Ep 1.5 - It's a Classic! (Closed)

[Bluestreak]

<< OOC: Set in week 1, Day 6, barring issues with the Vegas thread, in which case I'll move it around so it fits!>>

It was late evening.

True to Nevada at this time of year, it was warm, and there was only a tentative breeze blowing over the desert. It ruffled the brush and the small clumps of dry grass. The road stretched in the distance, heading into Jasper and beyond.

Bluestreak was standing outside, optics focused up above on the night sky. He liked it, the stars and the bowl and the open spaces. Nothing above you but well, air, and the ground was firm and solid under his feet.

Somewhere out there was Cybertron. He wasn't sure where; the star patterns overhead were way off from anything he'd ever seen. He'd barely started to make out the constellations. Right, the dipper. Why was it actually a bear, because it sure looked like a cup to him. Then again they were really reaching on some of these. Like that Pegasus. What the heck, seriously. He'd gone and looked it up, searched the sky again...

Nope. Still weird.

It helped for him to think about the fact that Cybertron was up there. Not that he'd have admitted it to anyone really, that he was homesick. Which was funny when you considered how much of a mess it was, but it didn't matter. It was home, and he liked familiarity, he liked remembering how to drive just so and go right here and be back on a routine. It helped him to focus, and not think about all the other things that tried creeping in on him at times.

He put that aside though, for the sake of everyone else. For the sake of this world and this place and his friends - and of course, Prime himself.

On to better thoughts, hello better thoughts, come back from wherever you are. Need you here not over there wandering around the desert like tinfoil hat dude. Great, I have tinfoil hat thoughts now. Hey, that's sort of funny. I'm silver, they're silver, nope, that's one I better not share because that sets me up for unmerciful teasing, haha! Eh, I can tease myself at least. Be the tinfoil, Blue!

Bluestreak had been waiting out here for about fifteen minutes now. When the command had asked for a volunteer to take the new fellow Tailgate out to hunt down an alt mode, the sharpshooter had totally thrown up his hand before anyone else could manage to even say 'sure' and he'd leapt cheerfully up and scattered out of the base.

Bluestreak was fast enough to scoot himself out of there before anyone could change their mind and tell him someone else was going who knew the roads better, who knew everything better.

Besides, he totally knew where. He'd been there. Bluestreak had grabbed his alt mode the night he'd showed up and he knew there were good cars, fast cars, great looking cars to scan. He liked nice sleek cars. Okay, that came off as a little weird, but

Hopefully Tailgate - yep, had to double check that was the fellow's name - hopefully he was one of those guys that didn't want an alt mode like a scooter. He had no idea where to go hunting for that.

Oh please don't let this mech want to be a Vespa. Not that they're not kinda neat but hey, you might want to drive more than thirty five miles an hour and not be sidelined by pouring rain...

[Deleted]

Hangovers.


Hangovers sucked.




Tailgate did not remember exactly how he ended up on his recharging slab last night, but he sure did wake up in it. With a pounding headache. Sore. And oddly smelling of....fresh pine?

Oh, right, the Pine Sol.

But the bot could hardly complain. In the two swift weeks of life he had endured before his accident on the Prescient Dawn, he did not have fun in any form. It was work, work, work, and more work. With some self-pitying thrown in. That night with Buffalo Dump was the first real fun he had had.....well, in his entire life. If it meant some pain the next morning then he could deal with it gladly.

Still, it hurt like nothing else.

Tailgate was still a bit nauseous. Ratchet informed him it was due to that toxic pine slurry still coursing through his systems. Oh, did Tailgate get an audio sensor full. On and on Ratchet went about "taking care of an injured body" and "your small system can't handle such filth" and whatnot. Tailgate was getting the impression that most of the Autobots that were around his age had a pipe firmly shoved up their exhaust ports.

Primus, was he going to start acting like that? He hoped not.

He had been informed earlier that he had an appointment with a fellow named Bluestreak. The Autobot was supposed to take him altmode hunting in the human populated areas. Apparently his outdated Cybertronian altmode would scare and frighten the local organics and he was in need of a new one in order to blend in.

Walking out of the base, he saw the silvery mech described to him beforehand. True to his name he indeed had little patches of blue accents over his metallic plates. Tailgate strode over to the bot casually.

"I'm guessing you're Bluestreak?" He asked. "I'm here to get a new altmode." He sidled up to the bot, leaning in with a hand cupped around his mouthplate.

"But, uh, let's do something nice, okay? Ratchet said something about fuel efficiency and obscurity, but I've got some preferences if that's ok?" Tailgate made it a point to causally flash the "BOMB DISPOSAL" written on his arm, acting as if it was just a normal arm movement and not an attempt to show off. This was a new start to life, on Earth. And lucky for him, no one was old enough to disprove his claim as a bomb disposal technician. He could tell that people were impressed when they saw the branding. Tailgate wanted it to stay that way. Which meant he needed to look the part as well.

Tailgate hoped to Primus this guy did not suggest a Prius. Or a Smart Car. Yeesh.

"I'm Tailgate, by the way. Nice to meet you." The bot said charmingly as he pulled away from Bluestreak's side and offered a hand.

[Bluestreak]

At the sound of footsteps walking, Bluestreak turned to greet who was walking up to him. The mech was casual as he picked his way across the sand carefully, no doubt still getting his footing on the organic soil of the planet. Bluestreak felt immediately for him; it was a bit disconcerting. Cybertron was well, solid and sturdy and not built randomly by the wind and erosion.

"Yah, that'd be me," Bluestreak offered, with an easy-going friendly grin. "Bluestreak, yep. You can call me Blue if you want, everyone else does - well, most everyone but usually that's because it's a lot faster to say that way, I guess. Who knows, but that's my best guess, heh."

The mech's blue eyes were bright and cheerful under that red chevron across his brow. He tipped his head and eyed Tailgate from top to bottom; not rudely but with honest, open curiosity at the mech and when he leaned in, he leaned down immediately to hear what Tailgate was going to say.

Weird, something smells like pine. Huh, guess this guy did a little off-roading? Good for him, great way to learn the terrain!

Then he laughed, but not at Tailgate. Not at all. It at the smaller mech's comment- oh he totally understood. He could just hear Ratchet muttering about that, and look at everyone around him who turned into flashy sports cars and giant semi trucks with uh, really bright colors. Come on, half the spooks were sports cars that you didn't see usually toodling down the street. Unless you were in Vegas. Anything was fair game in Vegas, he'd learned that, whoo boy.

An alt mode was one of those personal things. Bluestreak certainly wasn't going to tell someone what not to wear. Unless it was a Vespa. In which case he'd uh, have to politely try to encourage them to take something else.

Now, Arcee certainly could pull off the motorcycle with grace, but that was seriously because she could also kick off your doors, boot you in the skidplate, and send you flying flat face down without a second thought.

"Aw, yeah, that would be the Doc," the silver mech said with a smile. "He just- eh, he's just looking out for us all, honest. He's a good guy. Tired a lot of the time, I personally think he needs to get out more and get a break from the medbay, but hey, that's my own opinion so don't tell him I said that, he'll get grumptastic on me again. He's fixed me up some pretty good times, I owe him a lot."

"That said, yeah, he's got a load of work and it's got to be awfully frustrating to the Doc when we all constantly heap more on him, but hey..." His optics had come to rest on the writing on Tailgate's arm and he immediately looked a bit sheepish when he glanced back up.

"Hey, sorry. Here I am telling you this but you know all about that sort of thing in your line of work already - I don't have to tell you about getting hurt," he apologized. "Dangerous stuff, I- yeah, I'll handle a gun." He jerked a thumb towards the sleek, elegant rifle holstered behind his shoulder. "But explosives, no way. You're braver than I am, no doubt. Hard job. Thanks for doing it, you guys save a lot of lives."

Bluestreak shook Tailgate's hand as he straightened up. He then settled his hands on his hips and looked down at the smaller mech.

"Awesome, though. Let's go get you something you can live with, haha. Totally okay by me! So what's your preference - that's going to sort of give me a clue where we should probably start looking around here...? Oh wow, Blue's clues - haha, oh, that's-- that's awful, sorry. Seriously, though. I'm totally delighted to give you a hand with whatever you want to go find."

[Deleted]

What a nice guy

Tailgate thought as he shook the bot's hand. In fact the small bot had already decided that he already like this fellow more than most of the bots he had met. It appeared that Bluestreak did not have a pipe up his exhaust pipe. Which was nice. Looks like this little expedition will not turn out to be boring after all.

Though the response to this arm branding was unexpected. Usually the response was "oohs" and "aahs" along with snippets of impressed awe. Bluestreak's reply had stunned Tailgate into silence when usually he began to list of a string of exasperated tales. Tailgate could not help but feel a stabbing of guilt in his spark. The poor bot thought Tailgate was brave. He thought Tailgate had actually saved lives. Unless unclogging waste disposal pipes counted, Tailgate had never done a significant, helpful thing in his life. Tailgate tried his best not to let his shock show by keeping his field calm and steady.

"Oh, I believe you, Blue. Ratchet patched me all up after my little...'accident', so besides his perpetual grouch he's a pretty good guy." Tailgate's arm swept up and rubbed the back of his neck. Was it common knowledge that Tailgate was probably the oldest Cybertronian here? As fragile as his self image already was, Tailgate would not know how to deal with everyone snickering behind his back because he was an older fart than Ratchet. If the latter were true then Tailgate wanted to be sure that everyone knew the truth about what happened rather than leave it up to rumors and gossip.

"Don't know if you've heard or anything, but....I'm older than I look, heh." Tailgate laughed nervously.

"But only chronologically, I'm as youthful and spry as the next guy, so don't go calling me Gramps or anything like that! I'd explain to you in detail what exactly happened but when they tried to explain it to me my brain module almost shorted out."

Tailgate let a slow vent out as he calmed himself from the little rant.

"Anyway," He started, "I've only ever had this one altmode so I'm not sure what I like exactly. It's gotta be small enough for me, I'm travel sized as you can see. Other than that, as you can imagine, there are some situations where I need to get out fast." Tailgate said, referencing his job as a bomb disposal.

"Other than that, I'm not that picky. We should see what's around."

[Deleted]

Kit limped/jogged around the corner to find the two bots she was looking for. Relief surged in her emf to see she wasn’t too late. She thought she was going to be eons late.

“Thank Primus” Kit muttered to herself, then in a much louder and totally fake serious voice “Kitandcaboodle reporting for duty!” Kit stood to attention and snapped off a precise salute, albeit somewhat exaggerated. She then instantly went back to her usual sloppy posture. “Sorry for bein late, that old fra…Ratchet was err…giving me some last minute instructions”.

Kit managed to curb her usual apathetic disrespectful tone. Ratchet had done a brilliant job on her leg, and while his bedside manner sucked in Kit’s humble opinion, she could hazard a guess why he was like he was. Two days ago, she had met Ratchet for the first time, and the very first thing she said was “my leg hurts”. In retrospect, Kit deserved a terribly unsocial doctor.

So now Kit’s leg was stiff but not broken. Her self repair systems would complete the fix in a week or so. She also had a big metal plate bandage covering the lost skin plating. Her instructions were to remove the bandage after she scanned an Earth mode, but before transforming, transform back to biped and replace bandage. And then her system should be fine with transforming the bandage with her and Ratchet would then giver her something more permanent.

“So, did the Chief Medical Officer mention anything about fuel efficiency and low key, coz yeah, I’m too young and hot for that Scrap”. Kit had smexy hand on hip pose down pat, the fact she was plain low-caste grey spoke volumes to the truth of the matter. The actual issue was finding an Earth alt the approximate size and mass for Kit. Cars were too big, motorbikes too small.

[Bluestreak]

"Tailgate," Bluestreak repeated. His grip had been as outgoing and friendly as the rest of him.

"Aw, I didn't hear anything, but that's okay, I've been out and about a lot lately, I guess," Bluestreak admitted with another grin and a quick shake of his head. His doors slid back, the hinges moving in a comfortable, relaxed manner.

"Honest, you sure don't look old to me. Don't worry, as long as you don't start telling me about the days when you had to walk a million miles uphill in a rust-storm to get a comm, I think we're okay. Also, your brain module almost shorted out? Owch, yeah, let's just leave that alone then, because if I have you out here talking for two seconds and then I have to take you back into the base and explain to Ratchet that I was just talking to you when it happened I'll be busted and cleaning the floor in the rec room with one of those things that humans use, those dinky little things what are they- oh, a toothbrush, right, and that's not an idle threat, he'll totally assign me to do it, so nope. When you can explain I'll be happy to hear about it though, promise."

"Ah, okay, the altmode, got it," Bluestreak laughed and brought up his hand to rub at his chin while he studied Tailgate. He mused for a moment, and then who knew if he was talking to Tailgate or just talking to himself. "Right, something small enough but fast enough to get you out of a jam. No problem, perfectly doable, we can do that for you. Don't worry, I understand about that switching altmodes for the first time, it can really throw you. We can go out and do some practicing out in the desert after, no one's there to see you mess up if you do that. But we'll find you something you like, I'm pretty sure, I know this place, when I first got here I totally---"

His ramble was stopped in mid-chatter with the pattering approach of another mech. Er, femme. It was a femme. Bluestreak seemed a bit caught out by this, and especially when she trotted up to them and snapped off a jaunty salute before she promptly threw out her hip and set her hand on it. A feminine flourish, totally intended to draw your eye to the curve.

The silver mech shifted his feet in the red soil. His doors fell on the hinge ever so slightly, he suddenly seemed have forgotten exactly what he was going to say or what he had been saying a moment before. His bright blue eyes half-shuttered as he looked at the dirt between his feet and tried to remember. Something. Something about, something about -

"Uh. Hullo," Bluestreak offered.

Nope, not it. His processor whirred as Bluestreak stood silent.

For exactly one whole second. Maybe half of half a second? Then his brain cheerfully slapped him, turned him around and punted his mouth back into gear.

"Oh! Oh gosh, hi, sorry about that I didn't know someone else was coming along. Sorry about that, Kitandcaboodle, right? I'm Bluestreak, er, and this is Tailgate," he said politely, immediately indicating the smaller mech next to him. "Totally apologize, my bad. Ah, got it, Doc sent you along too? That's awesome, this will be fun, nah, he didn't mention that, I think he mentioned it to Tailgate though, so I guess it's his automatic speech to everyone, but hey, I kinda got mine before I met him again, whoops. Well this settles it, I know exactly where to go, whenever you guys are ready."

[Deleted]

Well, at least there was that.

It seemed that there was no gossip spreading around about Tailgate after all. Or, at least not virulent enough for Bluestreak to hear. Either way it relieved Tailgate's conscious greatly. Now he didn't have to worry about hearing bots snickering old jokes behind his back. And the fact that Bluestreak said he didn't look old helped.

The thought of switching altmodes was both thrilling and terrifying. His own altmode, rarely used in his short life, was the only that clung him to the past. By converting to a newer altmode (on an alien planet nonetheless) he was metaphorically moving on. The change scared him. What if he didn't like any of the altmodes? Or the altmode components drastically changed his appearance? Yet with the prospect of finally severing himself from his past...the worthless, pathetic past of his...Tailgate could muster the courage to change himself if he had too.

Tailgate's train of thought was interrupted by the clattering of running feet. A small femme had just caught up to them. A small and pretty femme...with a third optic? Striking a pose, the bot introduced herself as Kitandcaboodle. If Tailgate had not been so distracted by the third optic and sudden pose, he would have laughed at the name. It was a good thing he didn't. The femme had the look of a low caste bot. Bots like that (like Tailgate) never got to pick their own names. It was assigned to them as they came online. Tailgate was lucky to get an okay name, and he had grown to like it.

Only after a moment's pause did Bluestreak continue to chatter. Tailgate waved politely at the femme after Bluestreak introduced them.

"Heya Kitandcaboodle." He said, then turning to Bluestreak. "I'm ready whenever, cap'n."

[Deleted]

Anyone who came to know Kit would realise that doing her function did not give her satisfaction. Thus it would come as a surprise to learn she was actually a functionalist. She had seen how happy her old crew were in doing their function and she was jealous. Her code was glitched and in that she was the minority. From her point of view, being made for one purpose and getting satisfaction from that purpose was a good thing. So when it came to choosing a new altmode, Kit didn’t care, not really. Her alt mode was purely A-to-B transport, as showy as white socks. Kit understood the necessity for disguise on this alien planet and accepted that. She’d just rather spend her whole time as a biped and do her parkour. It was cybertronians like her who started the mythos of “Action Masters”. Kit was going to have fun this night in other ways…if she could.

To Kit’s sensors, Bluestreaks fluster was as palpable as a bolt of lightning, exactly the sort of reaction she was hoping to elicit. She never really got much joy out of life so she took what she could. Yup, she had made up her mind, she was going to see exactly how far she could cog tease these two. Sure she was no Arcee but even a low caste like her was not without assets.

Tailgate’s distraction was also picked up. It wasn’t quite the reaction she got from Bluestreak. She guessed her third optic caught him off guard, which happened sometimes. Kit’s chassis type wasn’t that common.

“Well I’m ready too…unless you boys have already seen something you like?” Kit’s voice took on a very slight sultry tone as she put both hands on hip, leaned forward just slightly and pushed her chest out a fraction. If she had cleavage, she would be displaying a teeny bit more, but she was a robot and didn’t have cleavage and get your dirty mind out of the fandom gutter.

Kit played dirty and she played to win. But she would be very subtle and the more she could say without saying anything at all, the better. After all, she was no whoreacon.

[Bluestreak]

Behind Bluestreak's shoulders, his doors lifted ever so slightly upwards. He politely chose to turn his head without turning his head too much because that was rude, but so was looking down straight into a femme's throat guard.

Say something safe, say something safe - wait is anything safe? No, it's probably not safe. This an unfair, loaded question, and I don't think I'm really set up to answer this without making a total mistake and causing an issue or getting slapped upside the head which par on course for me sometimes but I'm trying to cut down lately, haha. So what's safe?

Bluestreak looked at Tailgate helplessly for a moment. Well what he said was safe, right?

Nothing's safe. It doesn't matter. Might as well go with whatever words pop out of my mouth today, sure. That works.

"Um, I like everyone...?" the tall silver mech ventured after a moment.

He brought up his hand to rub behind his helm. "Well okay, I don't like Decepticons but that's kind of given based on most of the time they're trying to er, hurt someone I do like, honest. But okay now, um... right, sure, everyone's ready, let's head out."

With a sheepish grin, the mech looked around them.

"Hey, what alt modes do you guys have right now, so I can uh, plot us the best path so we don't get noticed by the humans around here. I gotta keep to the roads with my alt mode but most of them are pretty quiet at this time of night and we'll have plenty of time to spot cars coming, it's um- well, it's flat. The roads, not Nevada, Nevada is not flat, there's these awesome hills where - well, never mind, sorry, uh, lost my train of thought there for a second, but I do know where where we can observe what we need to peek at without being seen if you guys get my drift?"

He rocked back on his heels, eyeing both Tailgate and Kit with interest. What alt modes did they have....? Oh hope it's not a flying thing that might be tough to hide, well, okay, maybe they can fly really really low...

[Deleted]

Well, dang.




That Kitandcaboodle was quite the bot. Even the experienced Bluestreak was visibly flustered by her...character. Tailgate was glad he was gifted with a face plate or so the others could not see his secondhand embarrassment plastered on his face. He kept his field neutral as to avoid an awkward response. When Bluestreak looked at him for help, all he could offer was pained shrug of "I don't know". Thus, Tailgate was more than happy when the chipper mech changed topics away from Kitandcaboodle's question.

Bluestreak wanted to know what their altmodes were, that much Tailgate could get from his nervous blathering. Tailgate's altmode was...unimpressive. Basic, small, and boring. A standard model for low caste worker bots. It was designed for efficiency and longevity. Tailgate hoped Bluestreak wasn't historically inclined to know that. It would be rather embarrassing for someone to see this supposed bomb disposing expert turn into the Cybertronian equivalent of 1990 Toyota Acura. Hopefully Bluestreak believed it to simply be an outdated model from the distant past and gave it no second thought. Just in case he did ask, Tailgate though of several "get out of jail free" scenarios that would throw him off the scent. He would be out of luck if Bluestreak pressed further questions but Tailgate doubted he would.

"My altmode?" Tailgate said. "Well, it's an older model as you can imagine."

WHRR TSCHZZ TSCHZZ TSCHZZ CHK

Plates rearranged and gears shifted as Tailgate transformed. In his place now stood a box shaped vehicle, alien in design and yet simple. It had a definite retro look to it. Anyone familiar to Cybertronian vehicular designs would be inclined to noticed. Headlights flickered on. A weak, digitized horn honked.

[Deleted]

Bluestreak’s and Tailgate’s reactions were almost as funny as Kit hoped. There was delight and amusement in her triple optics as Bluestreak tried to cover his embarrassment. And Tailgate’s mouthplate did nothing to hide his repressed blushing from Kit’s thermal sensitive face. But what fun she had at their expense came to an abrupt halt.

Current Alt-Mode?

Once again, Kit’s penchant for not thinking ahead had turned her ad-hoc plans into so much rust. Once the two boys saw her alt mode, any attempt to extract a funny reaction from her flirtations would, well, be a waste of effort. Well it had been fun, albeit very short lived.

This time, it was Kitandcaboodle who was embarrassed. Isn’t karma a female turbo-fox. While Kit and Tailgate both shared low caste designs, he was a least old enough to be fashionably retro. Kit was the equivalent of a Honda City. And background grey too.

“aww frag it” Kit shrugged. Parts moved in their predestined motions with the good grace to be smooth and efficient. Where Kit once stood, now sat a four wheeled…blob. Light bars front and back glowed to life.

“Lead the way Captain”.

[Bluestreak]

The tiny honk of Tailgate's horn drifted across the flat desert. Somewhere in the distance a coyote answered it. Yip yip yip yawoooooooo. Sadly, the coyote had better volume.

(Remember to breathe from the diaphram, folks. Or whatever passed for one in Cybertronian circles.)

"Wow, you weren't kidding, Tailgate," the silver mech observed as he looked down on the mech's boxy little form. Bluestreak's gaze became one of honest fascination; it was one more hobby of his that he had sort of tucked away. Traveling back home, he'd always loved observing who wore what. So many different sizes, patterns, sporty vehicles and practical haulers.

"That's- wow, that's pretty retro! I've not seen one like that since - well, I saw one in a museum once, but no one was actually using it at the time. Hope not anyway. Can you imaging holding that pose all through business hours, haha? Neat diorama though. Had some old power cores and stuff as well, I liked that museum. They used to give you those audio recordings to listen to when you walked around, the voices on those were so boring it would have put you into recharge, I swear..."

Kit's motion drew his attention back from whatever old musty hallway he remembered. He settled his hands on his hips and looked at her as well. "Whoa," he murmured. "Wow. You both have some pretty cool alt modes. I feel sort of um, well, bland compared to you two. I mean, everyone has a shiny sports car mode down here. You guys have something so different. It's neat."

"Aw, it's kinda sad that you guys have to give them up," he said suddenly. "It's just one of those things that's going to be lost back there, along with so much other stuff."

A tiny smile touched wistfully along the edge of Bluestreak's mouth.

"Hey, though, gotta keep going forward," he offered with a cheerful bob of his head. "Okay, guys, keep close, I'm going to use the main road as much as I can. Thank goodness it's pretty dark for most of the way in, that's something you guys are going to realize about the planet, until you get into the cities, the side roads are pretty badly lit. Makes traveling around easy. Breaks up the outlines and stuff, so that the humans won't be staring."

A grin and then he too folded up. His transformation was smooth; the mech's chest becoming the hood, hands tucking under, head ducking. The doors behind his shoulders now settled into their proper spot and in a few seconds, the mech rested on all four tires in the dusty Nevada soil. He was as sleek and silver in this mode as his other.

"Okay," he told them, and revved his engine. The side of the road crunched under his tires as he drove towards the pavement. The car somehow popped up when it got to the curb; a funny rabbit-hop to clear where the road met the dirt. Once he was on it though, Bluestreak settled into a slow, comfortable speed so that the two could catch up and follow him. "So where we're headed? They have this awesome open air car get together down in Vegas - seriously. I found it when I first was here, I keep going back when I can, just to look. There's everything there, it's crazy."

"I mean, you guys don't want a flight alt mode do you?" he asked carefully. "If you do I can't help you there. I know nothing about that, except that when you fall off of things it sure doesn't help to flap your arms."

[Deleted]

Though the kindly Bluestreak meant no offense with the museum comment, Tailgate could not help but wither a little at it. Just another reminder to how out of place he was. His altmode model was so old it was a museum artifact. Guh. At least he didn't have to put up with this altmode for much longer.

"Eh, I'm not too bothered. I'm happy to finally get an updated model." Tailgate remarked as he began to follow Bluestreak onto the road. Ugh, was this an asphalt road? What civilization in their right mind used such primitive road material? Oh, right, humans. Tailgate was used to the highly advanced metallic roads of Cybertron. Smooth as a protoform's bottom. This road was almost unbearable to drive on. The bot's Cybertronian tires were not made for this kind of texture. A gravelly, grinding noise followed the puttering vehicle as the tires resisted the asphalt. Hopefully this open car thingamajig was not too far away. Tailgate's audio sensors might burst before they even get there.

"Vegas open air car doohickey sounds good to me," Tailgate said affirmatively. "And, ugh, flying? I don't think there's a small enough flying machine to fit me. I'm much more comfortable with all four wheels on the ground." At Blustreak's joke, Tailgate could not help but imagine a hapless bot falling off a cliff, arms flailing frantically as they tried to achieve lift off. He gave a small giggle-snort.

"I, uh, hope my tires aren't a bother for anyone. Can't help these outdated things, sorry."

[Deleted]

“Flight mode hah! I wish I were that lucky. I don’t think my powers systems could sustain me in flight…slaggin snooty fliers” Kit grumbled. Any concern she may have had for the noise of Tailgate’s tires was utterly drowned out by her concern for her own systems.

“What kind Frag is this piece of scrap road?! Small chunks of highly impure silicates stuck together with Slagging short chain hydrocarbon polymers? I’m impressed the local life has discovered the wheel if this is their mass transit surface. I’m getting the impression me picking up a local design alt mode of any quality is dripping from low to abysmal…I’m griping too much aren’t I…sorry about that”. Kit mentally changed gears from bitchy to happy puppy.

“Hey Tailgate, anyone ever tell you that for an old coot, you have a cute rear bumper?” Kit threw out some random chatter

This far out in the desert, there was little light pollution and so the late evening sky promised one more beautiful night. It was something Kit hadn’t really ever appreciated. Back on Cybertron, light pollution occluded so much. More than once Kit had to check her driving, too intent on looking up and not following the boys and the road like she was supposed to.

“Oh nice, fist star of the evening…” Kit mumbled.

[Bluestreak]

"Nah, nah," Bluestreak replied as they motored along the long, flat stretch of roadway. "Nah, it's fine, your tires are fine, I'll just take things nice and easy, I promise, no flat out flying down the roadway, I swear, haha, aw, yeah, some fliers are a bit well, okay, they're on their own world, Kit, but Air Raid's not like that, he's the nicest guy, seriously, he's amazing. Once I saw him thread right through a spot..."

Bluestreak trailed off. The Datsun seemed to crunch down on the roadway. He held himself just so between the white line and the broken yellow one, his headlights dimming. His engine ticked down into a soft rumble he flicked his wipers back and forth, as if he was dusting off something on his windscreen.

"Great guy," he said suddenly, firmly. "Heck of a flier. Best sense of humor, he just- nothing phases him too much, you know? You should see him someday, but oh, yeah that's one thing about Earth, the stars, all the stars out here, it's because well, back home there's so much light, heck, half the time your friends all glow in the dark and look awesome at party clubs, and out here, nah, it's not like that most places down here. Not at all. Isn't it beautiful? To see them, I mean. The stars."

His tires hummed along the roadway and he downshifted to keep a steady pace. "Oh gosh, no, you're not griping, it's totally understandable, hey, it'll be better once we get you outfitted for this sort of roadway," he offered to them both. "Their vehicles work well for it. They even have several types that work off road on the terrain if you like that sort of thing, maybe, or might find it useful."

A laugh. "Let me tell you, this one's sure not off-roading," the mech admitted. "Get more clearance than I have, if you want that, haha!"