[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]Late Night Perk

[Hot Rod]

     The car pulled up beside Dart's alt mode from the dark and parked there in a sloppy diagonal as if it had been there the entire time, keeping just within the shadows as not to draw suspicion as to why a vehicle was driving itself so perfectly when the technology wasn't there to make it so smooth. The smell of warmth was more prominent now that his front bumper was pretty much right next to Dart's passenger side trunk area. 

     Even though the car was flashy and hard to miss, it still didn't have... well, it was missing something indeed, and the expression on the face of Hot Rod's avatar showed it. It just didn't feel complete without that large, red Autobot insignia plaster on the hood in the center of the flame. It just looked like a teenager's rebellious streak gone wild and he had decided to spray paint a flame on the hood just to piss off his folks. It looked just so out of place. Roddy walked to the driver's side of his alt mode and the door lifted up on the pivot, rotating counter-clockwise until it was perpendicular to the ground on the hinge. 

     "Alright, I'll follow. True that I may be faster, but even I know when it's right to be in front, and when it's the time for let the lady lead the way. And don't you know not to judge a car by it's paint colors? I could just have all this fancy stuff for show and be slow as Hell." He laughed, and even his alt mode shifted some in amusement of the joke he had told. Sure, they both knew that was probably the biggest lie of the week... maybe the month. So far from a joke that it almost wasn't funny. "Don't worry, good lookin'. I'll try to keep up."

     Roddy smirked and slid into the driver's seat, the door lowering back to close once he was inside. Usually he would keep his avatar up but his windows were tinted enough that at night one couldn't see inside so unless he planned on driving around with the windows down no one would be able to tell that there wasn't actually anyone DRIVING. Not that he would, really, since it was Nevada. The desert. And the desert sand sucked on his interior. 

     He would know. Hot Rod was still clearing that crap out.

     The revving of his engine hinted that he was ready to go whenever she was. He wanted to see some actual decent scenery from this crappy state and he didn't want to have someone back at base notice he was missing just yet and bust him for hanging out with a Decepticon. Being out of comm range only worked but for so long.

[Dart]

Even as her avatar started to slide into her front seat, the girl paused. One foot had made the car's floor board one foot out on the warm asphalt of the dimly lit parking lot. Out of the rip in the knee of her jeans, a bright pink bandaid peeked out. It had happy white cat faces on it.

As the sleek mech rolled up close to the femme's long flank, the scuffed and scratched black Trans Am rocked uneasily over her threadbare tires.

Dart was uncomfortable with mechs she didn't know well within a body length of her. It took everything she had to keep from immediately swinging her exposed flank away from him, to guard her sides. Dart respected personal space. She was always careful not to push or crowd a mech - well, or a human for that matter.

Also, it had a lot to do with staying out of hand and foot range of her fellow Decepticons. So many of her faction had no problem lashing out at the nearest target when they were upset about something entirely different.

There was a soft whuffle of intakes as she drew in a deep gulp of air from the front of her hood. This close to her, his scent wafted thickly across the hot pavement beneath them. Not bad, not awful, just heavier and entirely unique to this mech. It curled thickly through her sensors.

Her avatar's gaze went briefly to his, and then quickly focused on his hood instead.

There was a bare, open area in the painted flames. You could tell something was supposed to be there. It didn't quite balance itself out; that bold, bright patch flared wide. It was sort of awkward looking; even if he'd painted a second set of flames in it it might have helped soften the look.

Oh. They did make him get rid of it...

Her eyes quickly went back to her own hood, where the silver lightning bolt and burned Decepticon sigil were muted under a layer of dust. She couldn't imagine Pyrotech ever demanding she take hers off. Things had been so different in Australia; they wore their sigils in the open, emblazoned on their alt modes. Then again, they were dealing with an entirely different environment. Open spaces, where you didn't run into many people, but needed to know exactly who was on your team and who wasn't with a glance.

"Oh, ah- I wasn't really looking at your paint," the courier quickly apologized. Her avatar slid into the car and pulled the door shut behind her. Her hand came up, drew her seat belt across herself and clicked it into place.

"Er, I was just trying to figure out what your alt-mode was. The car. Not judging, no, I wasn't judging, honest."

Her voice floated out from under her long, sloping hood. "I've never seen one like that before, that's all."

Dart bobbed over her tires. "All right. I can take the point, it's just fine, s-"

The courier caught herself. "It's just fine," she reiterated, even as there was a soft click from her ignition switch and her engine rumbled into life. Unlike the mech's smooth, rising purr, hers was rough and choppy, as if the femme might not have had a tune-up in an awfully long time. She revved her engine a few times, lifters chattering and rattling before the big car settled over her tires.

Her avatar still remained within her front seat, hands on the wheel. Dart automatically reached down and flicked on her blinker before releasing the parking brake as if she was the same as any human driver out there.

She carefully backed out of the space she'd been parked in, sliding away to give the mech plenty of room before she turned to drive around the back of the coffee shop and out of the parking lot.

"Come on," she called back to Hot Rod. "Highway's not far. We'll go straight up 95, it's the fastest way."

The bright lights of the Walmart and shopping center faded into soft gold behind them as the Trans Am turned onto the main road and headed out towards the main road.

[Hot Rod]

     It was alright that she was staring... heck, he would have been more concerned if she HADN'T been. Frankly, it looked like a kid had been given a bucket of paint and told to go to town doodling whatever he desired on his hood. The slab of yellow flame work looked out of place without having the blazing bold red Autobot insignia there. Honestly, he had been told that he could have one somewhere else, but since most of what you saw on the outside in his vehicle mode was outward facing in his bot mode, it wouldn't have made a difference, as you would have seen it anywhere else except... maybe on his head, but that wouldn't have made sense. No, that badge belonged on his hood, and until he could make the argument in his favor that it wouldn't harm anything by having it there, he would just go without a faction marker.

     "The paint is mine... original colors from when I was on Cybertron. Can't seem to bring myself to lose them. A little flashy, somewhat showy, but there's gotta be some part of you in what you select to drive around in. Guess if there's one thing I can hold onto from home it would be that. I think I'd lose it if I had to completely conform to being like... a tan station wagon or somethin'. Sure Pops would appreciate it, though."

      Hot Rod's engine revved in response to her own. Now, he may have been a foolish youth, but even he wasn't rude enough to mention the odd sound coming from under her hood. That was a good way to get yourself in some deep trouble, as he had seen happen to others. Some of their kind were sensitive about being made aware of other's knowing they hadn't been in for routine examinations... or implied that they were old and should be in retirement. Nope, Hot Rod knew how to keep his mouth shut when it came to self preservation.

     "The car is a Koenseigg One hyphen one. The name comes from how they built it. It's the first car to have the perfect hp-to-kg curb weight ratio of 1 to 1. It's the first one to have a single Megawatt of power. They call it the first 'megacar'. It's not bad for an earth vehicle, but it doesn't beat the cool Cybertronian mode I had. We can't have it all." 

     Hot Rod followed behind, making sure to be close enough that he didn't lose her, but not too close that if she should slam on her brakes he would have more than enough time to get out of the way. Now that they were no longer stuck in a silent parking lot and actually moving, Hot Rod felt a lot better. He hated sitting around and doing nothing, and even if this was nothing more than a sight-seeing drive to stretch out their wheels, he was more than happy to take it. Simple things like this were missed sometimes, especially when he spent a lot of time just sitting in base. He had those couple of mechs that helped to pass the time, but nothing beat just shaking the rust off.    

[Dart]

The Pontiac led them quietly down the curve of the back road that would take them onto the highway. Unfortunately for Hot Rod, the Decepticon seemed to be a stickler for obeying the speed limit, even when the businesses were closed, their windows dark except for the soft red and white glow of neon signs.

Traffic was slow and the roads were fairly quiet in the sleepy little suburban shopping area. The cars that passed the two Transformers seemed to offer up a tired flicker of acknowledgement from their yellowed headlights, as if noting their fellow machines. A vehicular greeting as they were headed home to drop off their drivers, then take a well earned rest within comfortable garages and carports.

It would have been a lie to say Dart wasn't nervous with the mech following her close. Yet, she just- she couldn't leave him to himself right now. Was it the smart thing to do? Probably not. Was it the safest thing to do? Uh, definitely not. Certainly not something she normally would have done, but- 

She knew Red Rock. Knew the hills and the curving road, the silence and the tall crags and curves of sandstone. Silence and safety, a place for speed and concealment -  and she sure as heck knew that the humans weren't there. 

They swept through a couple of overpasses. Street lamps above them ringed pink circles of brightness on the roadway that hummed beneath their tires. It wasn't long before the two Cybertronians would merge onto US-95, heading towards the west.

"I can understand that," Dart said, once they had settled into a comfortable cruise. Her raised voice curled out from the car itself, blown back to him by the wind and the speed, since they had not shared an open frequency.

That was fine with her though, her comm wasn't working anyway, and it would be incredibly awkward to drive with her data-pad strapped to her car mode. Not to mention she was pretty sure that the cops would pull her over; Nevada's laws were that it was illegal to talk or text on a handheld phone or similar device.

Dart figured a data pad counted, even if it was duct taped to the passenger side door.

"Like- you get used to your colors," she replied thoughtfully as they swept down the highway. It was a wide, four lane stretch, and she'd tucked herself into the slow lane. It allowed the mech plenty of opportunity to pass her or drive up alongside if he chose to do so. "They're--"

Dart struggled with the right word she wanted to say.

"Comfortable?" she finally called over to Hot Rod. "Besides - well, the car's showy and expensive, it works with the car. It probably wouldn't work if you were a Prius. Er, a Koenseigg?"

Oh, she totally mauled how he'd said it. Languages were so not her thing; her accent scraped across the car's designation.

The Trans Am's pop up headlights squinched down in apology.

"I've never heard of one," she admitted. "I- I don't even know who makes it."

Which made her wonder once again why the Autobots chose to scan these incredibly individual, expensive cars. It wasn't even Hot Rod's flaming paint that would be obvious; it was the fact that anyone who at all liked cars no doubt would scream in delight, stick a cell phone out the window, and take as many burst shots as they were able to to post to some message board on the internet.

It didn't quite seem a great way to keep a low profile under the circumstances. Actually, like a friend of hers always said, it was downright dangerous.

At least Hot Rod seemed to know a lot about the car. His tone sounded almost affectionate as he expounded on the vehicle's virtues. Dart could appreciate that; there were a lot of things she didn't like about her own alt mode for general purpose, but she had learned about the car. Some of the mechs out there didn't even care one bit of the history behind the vehicle they were. They just used it, and that was that.

Then she chuckled softly. "Aw, hey, there's some nice station wagons out there. Really. I've just never seen anyone actually take one as an..."

Dart trailed off. The long, low sweep of her dirty hood rumbled softly as she stayed just so between then the lines of her lane.

Immortality is meant for gods and station wagons... Not living things that have to interact with other vastly different living things. It does horrible things to their perspective.

Dart carried messages. Words. Important conversations to her were held close and and tight, set carefully within the empty spaces in her head as if they were letters tucked in a mochila.

She had agreed wholeheartedly. Then again, the courier knew she was mortal. Maybe that was the one thing special about her lack of knowing about home. Earth taught you that in the wilds, you survived, or you didn't. Nothing was immortal here. Not even the rocks.

"Alt mode," she continued. "What did your original alt mode look like?"

There was a flick of her dust-coated mirror. It angled back in quiet curiosity towards the sleek mech nearby.

[Hot Rod]

     :: You've never seen anyone actually take one as an alt mode cause they're a little too inconspicuous? :: Hot Rod questioningly finished her sentence they way he thought she may have meant. Honestly, Hot Rod really hadn't seen anyone take an alt mode that would fall under that whole 'in disguise' thing that the adults at base had tried to drill into him. They had gotten on him about getting rid of his insignia because that would draw attention to him, but he had yet to see an alt mode at home that was under the 10-20k in human dollars. :: Don't ask me. I had to remove my brand, while they sit in their alt modes that are at least 100k a piece. So what if mine is more expensive? When I arrived on Earth I was looking for something that was cool and comfortable to drive in. I didn't know that we were supposed to hide from the world. Not like I really had to had to do that at home. ::

     Home. As if Cybertron had really been considered that. His home had been decimated by the very groups that were fighting to 'save Cybertron'. They had all turned their back on his people and attempted to use them as feeders, so really? Home was just a bullshit ideology that didn't sound right to him.

     ::Lots of angles and low to the ground. Here on Earth it would be the epitome of aerodynamic with the angle from hood to roof. And there wasn't any of this windshield junk that they have here, just solid metal. Three pair of metal stacks on both sides and a fin on the rear that could separate a knee joint if I took a turn just right. Man, it was sick...::

     Hot Rod vented some and drove to her left just behind her so he could keep following but not be stuck in the furthest slow lane. He'd be able to move into the lane again if she turned off the highway, but this way he could also see ahead to make sure there wasn't a trap set up ahead of him or something. Sure, this was dangerous. The Decepticon could have been leading him into a trap and he would have drove right into it like a love-struck puppydog, but he was willing to take that risk.

     ::You know, when I was first thrown into this war I wasn't even fighting for the Decepticons or the Autobots... I just fought to keep myself and my people alive. Both sides were our enemy. I was made to be flashy because we wanted both sides to see me coming. Just cause it would hurt their pride that much more when I got out of there and disappeared before they knew what hit'em. That was the point; Impact and embarrassment. There was no hiding back then, so you can imagine that this whole thing here is a little odd to me. I just don't get it. I mean, I understand we got some other dangerous to deal with but... come on. Ya can't be running scared all the time or else that's gonna get ya screwed just as much as being reckless would. Guess it's just how you wanna go down.::

[Dart]

The highway around them was changing. They had left the city far, far behind and the lights. What had been flat planes of land with houses crammed together in rows gave way to empty flat plains of brush. In the distance, there were hills, jutting up from either side of the warm ribbon of pavement.

Nothing would meet Hot Rod's sensors or sight. The road was empty and open, minus the humans in their cars that they passed. One of them had neon running lights, and the driver's side window was rolled down and was playing heavy rock music. Deep bass notes trembled the air as the two Cybertronians rolled past, the human inside so caught up in it that he barely even looked at the sleek elegant Koenseigg.

Once he did though, there was an approving nod.

"Yes?" the femme ventured after they were once they were clear of that driver. "I mean no. I've seen a lot of alt-modes but um, no- no, I don't think I've ever seen anyone as a station wagon, no."

She thought about that. Dart had seen so many alt modes in Australia that she had not seen here. Perhaps it was because they actually were out more often and truly needed the disguise of moving along Simple offroad bikes, some heavy duty SUV's, several sturdy (and kind) helicopters. Even the crew she'd been stationed with for years hadn't been too flashy. Gosh, it was kind of weird to think about the fact that a flame painted hearse and a bright red emergency service vehicle wasn't considered flashy recently.

Alt-modes that are 100k each...

She couldn't even fathom that. Dart was pretty sure her alt-mode went for around one percent of that price in the condition the exterior was in.

The courier kept quiet and listened as the mech groused about his situation. He did have a point about being asked to take off his sigil while they toodled around in expensive cars, but both on the same car would have been pretty noticeable. He drew your eye, that was for sure.

I didn't have to do that at home.

But- but you're not at home, Dart thought, you're on my- their home.

It puzzled her slightly, that he would be so upset about hiding. It wasn't an insult to his skills or his abilities. Or maybe it was, and she just didn't fathom it because she didn't have the underpinning and culture to understand it.

She understood his wistful description of the alt mode he'd had, and followed his voice along as he talked about having no windshield. Within the sim Axon and she hadn't had one either. Why would they, being vehicles never designed for a human driver. Her hood bobbed slightly; solid metal, right, metal stacks on both sides and a--

The Trans Am spooked slightly at his last sentance, bobbling in her lane. The long hood seemed to nearly touch the ground as she ducked low over her tires. A shudder passed through the car; anything having to do with a leg was her safety, and the thought of a mech tearing her knee joint out was simply terrifying.

As Hot Rod slid up behind her left, the femme's side mirrors twitched back slightly until they almost touched her windows. There was a tiny hitch of her left quarter panel. She quickly seemed to catch herself though, and politely nudged over a bit so she was on the edge of her lane as if to give him plenty of space.

By then though, he'd left that part of the conversation behind and was onto something else. His words drifted across the dark and the sound of their engines.

"Yeah," she said after a long moment. "I mean I can see how it's odd to you in that regard, about Earth. Switching gears all of a sudden, from one way to another, but..."

Something else had caught her attention. More even so than his comment about running.

"If you weren't on a faction side, who- who were you fighting for? Is that okay for me to ask? If you can't tell me, that's okay, promise."

She hesitated. "I don't- I don't want to be rude, and you can tell me it's none of my business and I won't ask any more questions about it, honest. I've just never heard someone say that before."

"About wanting both sides to see you coming."

[Hot Rod]

Hot Rod wasn't tuned out enough not to notice the behavior displayed when he had made his statement about taking out the knees. He kept talking, but he kept an eye on what she was doing in the case he triggered some aggressive action out of her. Defensive seemed to be more of what she was going for so he stayed relaxed and just watched. He'd apologize for it later since they were already going off on another conversation and her statement left him a little baffled.

"You haven't heard it before? Really?" Hot Rod really was surprised at that. "Did you really think it was just Autobots and Decepticons on Cybertron, or were they just the ones who talked the loudest and had the biggest guns?"

To those who kept their helms down and their optics low it was easy to think that was all the war was consisted of, but there was so much more going on in the inner workings that no one took into account or paid mind to. If they weren't part of it, they really had no real way of knowing.

"Well, there were the Neutrals, of course, and there were different kinds there. You had the ones who didn't want to be bothered with what was going on, those who thought the war was below them and many stupidly thought it would be over soon, and those who did something about it. Everyone stood on a side for their own reasons, and while a lot of them did join the Bots or the Cons, not all of them were willing choices. A lot of them would have rather died than be forced into anything. Those of us who took a strong stand against the entirety were part of a large insurgent group. Nyon was the thorn in their sides."

Hot Rod went quiet for a moment as he thought of his last statement. He wished he could have been blowing smoke, but he personally knew the extent some were willing to take in order to remain free.

"Nyon was like that. She was a thorn in the sides of the Cons, the Bots, the Senate... you name it, they hated her and her people. She had one of the largest insurgent groups hidden in her folds. Her people were used and abused and finally fought back against who they saw as an oppressor... and, in the end, they would have rather ended their own lives and burn their city to the ground than to be used further. Used in a way that probably would have made a turning point in the war. Unfortunately, the Decepticons really aren't any better and... they just have poor manners."

[Dart]

The roadway murmured under their tires as they drove along. A small sedan chose that moment to cut sharply across her lane to get to the exit, and the Decepticon threw on her brakes. After that little scare, the femme was quiet for several minutes as she focused on finding the turnoff.

When she did, the black car put on her blinker with plenty of warning before she turned off an exit to the right. The city lights had long since faded into nothing, and overhead, the clear Nevada sky was full of stars.

A green and white sign noted that Red Rock Canyon was ten miles away.

Once they were on the quieter side road, there was a slight lift from one of the femme's pop-up headlights, like she was quirking her brow.

Then she offered up a soft chuckle.

"Well, aw, not all of them," she mentioned, but there was absolutely no defensiveness in her voice. "Some of them have very good manners, but..."

That didn't make them good people. Dart kept that to herself though.

"No," the femme admitted honestly after a moment. "I really hadn't heard any of anything like that. Er, for a while there, yeah. I did. I mean, I didn't realize there was anyone out there that wasn't part of a faction, I just- I thought that's how things were. Autobot and Decepticon. Which is silly, I know, but no one really talks about anyone not part of the factions down here on Earth. Now I know there's a lot of other folks on- on Cybertron, and I know that that a lot of folks got run over and so, so much worse..."

The long hood of the scruffy Trans Am nosed downwards, as if she was settling under a weight. 

She trailed off. "Nyon?" she repeated, her accent falling oddly on the name. It wasn't familiar at all, but that wasn't surprising. What she knew of her own world could fill a thimble, and not even a robot sized one. Well, if they made robot sized thimbles and that was a whole other thing that Dart wasn't sure about. She'd seen cloth recently though on a mech, so hey, possible.

"I don't know who that is, I'm sorry. I've never heard of her."

[Hot Rod]

     Hot Rod was far enough behind that when the incident with the sedan happened he didn't risk running into Dart's rear bumper. Even though there was more than enough distance, he still tapped the brakes slightly just to make sure he kept the gap the same as not to chance another issue. Humans, like some Cybertronians, really didn't know how to drive. He never understood how, but he did take solace in knowing that it was usually the case of someone getting used to their new alt mode. Humans? Distractions, mostly. Those silly little cellular devices that were usually glued to their ears were mainly the cause of trouble.

     ::Scrap, you okay?:: Hot Rod found it was polite to at least ask, considering he took her silence for trying to regain her composure. ::I didn't know that idiot was gonna do that, or I woulda warned you. Guess we gotta keep our optics out for careless human drivers. Never thought I'd have THAT issue.::

     Never thought he'd end up in a place like this. If only his former Instructor could see him now...

     ::Good manners, bad attitudes? Or just bad?:: Not that Hot Rod needed the answer to that. The trail off on what Dart had been saying was hit enough to it.

     ::Talkin' about it would mean talkin' about the War, and no one wants to talk about how it wasn't as black and white as they want to make it. Some get defensive when you mention that not everyone wanted it one way or another. It's like their pride hurts to have to admit it or something.:: He would have shrugged had he not been in his alt mode, but the tone probably was enough.

Hot Rod followed, making sure that he didn't lose her on the drive. Not that he couldn't track her should he lose sight, but considering they'd been doing rather well, falling behind for the last ten miles would be a little embarrassing.
  
     ::Doesn't surprise me you haven't, honestly. It was a place. One of those 'long dead a buried' things.::

[Dart]

"Yeah, I'm- I'm totally okay," the femme replied with a tiny bob of her hood, and kept along at a solid, sensible speed. "It happens around here, people miss an exit or something because of all the tourists in the area. They're unfamiliar with the roads. You have to sort of keep a look out in rush hour and later at night, and - oh. Uh, a little of both, I guess... bad and bad attitudes, you know?"

She quieted again as he spoke, listening to what he had to say.

Dart understood what he was saying. There was this- well, he was right. Lots of folks wanted things to be black and white. It was understandable. It was easier to defend your position if you put blinkers on and focused on good and bad.

"Nothing's black and white," she said. "I know that, honest. A lot of it's just simply shades of grey."

Sort of like Cybertron itself, she thought. The sim had shown her that world, blanketed in a soft pall of grey ash, slithering and twisting into ruin. The lack of living, moving, thriving things, the uncanny, unnerving silence. Sometimes there was a weird, drawn out moan that set her on edge; distant girders whining with the weight of the wreckage they supported.

That was in her head, though. A massive simulation run by some computer buried deep within the ruins of Cybertron. All it took was Axon to flip a mental switch and she was back in reality, on Earth, green and growing. The sounds of the birds and the smell of the rain, or the bold, bright heat of the desert. Living and thriving, even in the abandoned spaces.

"Oh," she said. "I- I didn't know it was a place. I'm sorry, it sounded like you were talking about someone you knew... but- oh, that makes sense."

"Places become like people," she mused softly after a moment.

Truth. Oregon was familiar; the scents, the sounds. The way the rain moved in over the Columbia River, or the congested, sharp mechanical rumbles of the stopped traffic on I-5 during rush hour. Pine forests, salt-and sand dunes. Land and odor changing as swiftly as she loped through it; but it didn't matter. It was home.

A pause. "What was it like?" she asked him, and there was a note of honest curiosity that drifted across the space between them.

"Nyon, I mean."

[Hot Rod]

     ::Places become people? I dunno. You wouldn't have really wanted any place on Cybertron to be your hang-out spot, let alone someone you'd wanna talk about like they were your best bud.:: Hot Rod had never found any of the cities he traveled to particularly great, but that could have been cause he had come around when the War was swinging hard everywhere. Not much to see when everyone was shooting at everyone else for something as little as glancing in their direction in what they took as being an offensive way. 

     ::As far as Nyon goes? :: It was beautiful, flourishing, full of life and at the peak of perfection. The idol of other City-states around Cybertron- the place everyone wanted to be and sought a reason to go out of their way to go to.

     That was how Nyon used to be, and how probably someone would have expected Hot Rod to call his home. Instead, the 'I-don't-have-a-filter-Hot Rod' pretty much switched it up.

     ::It was a slum. Trash everywhere, debris, junk, reminders of the war... you name it, you'd probably find it on the street somewhere. Not to mention it smelled awful. The inhabitants kept themselves locked up most of the time and when they were out and about? Kept their optics to the ground and audials blocked so they wouldn't see or hear anythin'. You wanna talk bad attitudes? Nyon had some of the best poor attitudes Cybertron had to offer. Needed highs or lows? You could find dealers peddling all the best illegal stuff out there you could find. Need a black list item or a secret facility to do an outlawed frame upgrade? You went to Nyon.::

     There was silence for a bit as Hot Rod kept pace with her again. He stayed close enough that he wouldn't lose her in case she flicked her lights off and went dark, but far enough behind that should brakes need to happen because of a flighty animal, he wouldn't run face-first into her back end. He really wouldn't want to have to explain that sort of damage to the local medic, that was for sure. He'd never live it down.

     ::But it was home, and it was the only one I've ever known.::

[Dart]

Up until the last few months of Dart's life, Cybertron had been visually an absolute unknown.

Mechs talked about it all the time, especially in the remote places she'd been stationed. They reminisced of home, of cities before the war. Bright tall towers, neon colors, lights everywhere. Elegant spires and long stretches of massive freeways and open sky where you were free to drive and fly at will.

No miserable sheets of ice and snow or the soup of organic mud. Time and time again she was told that it was a perfect, amazing place, unlike Earth.

She'd half expected him to do the same, like so many mechs she'd met. His flash and elegant lines, his voice; they all felt as someone who was at home in those oh so perfect places she'd been told about. Yet there was that first, straightforward comment from him that set an entirely different tone.

You wouldn't have really wanted any place on Cybertron to be your hang-out spot...

In the sim, she'd seen that aspect. Soma wanted that mental space as raw as the ruined planet around him. It was not Cybertron as it had been once, it was as it was now. A ruined world that held the sharp, gritty tang of dust and ash in every draw of the air into her systems. It constantly put her on edge even more than usual; the courier was used to the life on Earth. There was always something moving; a bird, an animal, the trees, the grass, the clouds in the sky.

There, there was nothing. Cybertron was dead. That lack of life and constant motion was awful.

As Hot Rod continued, Dart listened with silent fascination.

The mech hadn't pulled out a mental tourist pamphlet describing the lovely air and sparkling towers. Noting about Cybertron in all of its glory; how much better it was than Earth.

It was gritty and it was deep. Like those streets in Portland where it honestly wasn't safe to walk sometimes. Where angry souls slunk in wet jackets beneath the framework of the concrete bridges. The piles of rotting leaves blown into damp, molding spaces around them, slowly decaying along with paper cups and other garbage. It was a despair that just couldn't be shaken, folks trying to pretend on some level that this was totally normal, leave them alone to get through the day.

Even Cybertron had dealers that turned someone's addictions into cold hard cash and didn't care what bodies they left behind them in the gutter. Black list items, outlawed frame upgrades...

I- I wonder if my holo-projector came from a place like that.

She let him trail into silence. His engine rumbled from behind her; that deep, throaty growl of a well-tuned system, built for pure acceleration.

When he finally spoke again, her side view mirror twitched.

"It sounds real," she told him, and then caught herself. "I mean, I get it. Home is home, even when it's tough to live in. Er- one sec, here's our turn..."

Dart politely used her blinker like a good driver. They had looped under a small section of overpass and there had been at least two signs indicating that Red Rock Park was close. The terrain around them was open and desolate, the highway noise quickly ebbing away, blocked by the rising rifts of stone.

An old sagging fence stretched beside them as they wound their way into the hills. The road was empty, there was not a car to be seen besides them. His headlamps would reflect off of a bright yellow warning sign; apparently there was a burro warning on this long stretch of road. 

A few more miles and the car in front of him flicked her blinker again, and pulled into a small gravel pullout on the side of the road. As she rolled to a stop, her rough engine ticked into silence. Around them, there were massive, high hills of stone, mounding high. They rose abruptly from the valley floor and loomed overhead. The area was remote, and it was desolate.

In front of Hot Rod was only solid grey and well- an awful lot of thorny, scraggly bushes. Not to mention a six foot high barbed wire fence that was obviously there to deter humans. Or maybe keep the unseen burros off the road.

"The entrance to the park's a few miles up," the femme said after a moment, her voice drifting out from under her hood.

"I- we can hop the fence here, if that's okay with you? It's a little bit of a hike and a climb, but I promise, we'll be back on the road pretty quick."

[Hot Rod]

     'Real... yeah, it was real, alright. But not anymore...'

     Hot Rod followed her into the gravel, ignoring the sounds as the tiny pieces kicked back at his hood in a series of tiny 'tink tink' sounds. He pulled back some so he wasn't hit as often, but the sounds were still annoying. He would have to ask Ratchet to repair some of the nicks in his paint when he got back home.

     Well. When he got back to base.

     "Hop the fence sounds great. Lets break some rules!" Here he thought they were going to be hurling over this cement wall or something like that, recalling when he had to do things like that back on Cybertron. He was almost looking forward to it, and, in a way, he was hoping that he would actually get caught. Why? Because he would love to rub it in the faces of the Bots that he was actually out and enjoying himself while they holed themselves up in that tiny little base like a bunch of scared roaches and he managed to get back just fine. He figured while the truce was going on they may as well take advantage of not being shot at by their fellow Transformers since forever.

     In his case, since ever.

     Though when he got to the fence? Well... there was much left to be desired, quite honestly. He came to a stop a few feet from the... about five, MAYBE six, foot high chain link fence littered with no trespassing warnings and reflective tape in warning to passing hot shot motorist to turn back. Not even bothering to see if anyone patrolling was around to spot them, Hot Rod shifted out of his vehicle mode and stood there with a positively flabbergasted look on his face.

      Hot Rod looked at the fence, then put his servos on his hips and then to Dart, and back to the fence again. He really just didn't get that they called this a fence.

     "This is meant to keep out... what, exactly? Human infants? Even the human kids at our base could hop this with little effort! This ain't even hopping." He actually had a decent laugh over that and, without much else to say about it, stepped right over the little thing and stood on the other side. "There, all done. Comin' m'lady?"

     Even if it was a playful gesture, Roddy still held his servo out with the palm up, entirely planning on taking Dart's own and helping her over the tiny little 'fence'.

[Dart]

As Hot Rod put his hands on his hips and eyed the chain link fence with the rusting barbed wire curled and looped across the top, the Trans Am rested silently in the rocky parking lot. At his incredulous expression, the low-slung, scruffy car raised her headlights slightly before she tilted her weight to one side.

Well, he's not wrong, she realized.

A five year old could climb that fence with ease. Sure, might have a bit of difficulty squiggling through the wire at the top, but hey, they'd manage. That's what kids did, and if the human military could train them to teach adults all their secrets on how to get a cookie jar off the top of the fridge? Obstacle courses would be a piece of cake.

That fence sure wasn't meant to keep out giant alien robots.

"Oh, uh, it's meant to keep the animals off the road," she offered helpfully. "Oh, and people trying to dig up the native plants to sell. They do that a lot, some of those cactus plants out here are worth a lot of money."

As he held out his hand, the sports car sat there for a long moment. The vehicle shifted her weight back on her rear axle, her side mirrors twitching and tilting. She dug her front tire into the rough, grey gravel, twisting the threadbare tread back and forth, making a bare spot in the dirt.

Then the sports car drew itself up, as if it was making a decision.

Seconds later, there was the soft shifting sounds of transformation. Things folded, they lengthened, and moved into quiet position. There was a soft hiss in the silence as her tires deflated and flattened, then tucked away somewhere on the lean femme that swiftly and suddenly took shape. Unlike him, at the end of her transformation, Dart didn't end up standing tall on her feet.

Instead, she was crouched in the gravel, her weight balanced on the tips of her fingers and the tips of her toes. As if she was ready to sprint off the moment someone lifted a pistol and fired off a shot.

Slanted blue optics peeked up at Hot Rod from under the dark brim of her helm.

He was a tall mech, bright and sleek. His colors were deep rich reds and brilliant orange, flashing bright yellows. Immediately, her optics were drawn to the pointed tips of metal behind his shoulders; his vehicle mode had a spoiler, but this was the first time she'd ever, ever seen another mech that in robot mode had them placed somewhat like her own.

Behind her own shoulders, her spoiler twitched and then pricked forward, framing the mech and his outstretched fingers.

An unsure expression crossed Dart's face. Her fingers dug a bit into the rough gravel pullout beneath her. In the moonlight, the femme's black and grey frame was so scratched and scuffed it was dull.

Cautiously, she lifted her nose, stretched out her neck, and sniffed lightly at the air between the distance of the mech's proffered hand.

[Hot Rod]

     "Cactus? Really? Aren't they like... everywhere? Why would you want to waste money on something that grows out of the ground and you can't really appreciate? I've stepped on one of those things, and I'll tell ya- those things hurt like the PIT." Not that he knew what the Pits felt like, but it was a common slang that he'd heard from older mech. "I'd rather...-

     "-what are you doing?"

     Hot Rod was still talking when she had transformed. He didn't expect that she would take his offered hand, as she was a Decepticon and a lot of them were anti-Autobot-assistance in the case of cooties or whatever, but what he got? The sniffing of his servo was unexpected, though he didn't make any sudden movements or pull away like he'd been shot. He just stood there, watched in confusion, and angled his mouth to the side as he stared at what she was doing as he waited on her to finish. This was something he had seen dogs do when they were looking for a place to pee.

     If she were gearing up to do the same, or mark her territory, or whatever? Truce be damned, he was going to hurl her off one of the local cliffs, then probably bury the body so it took longer to locate her. Or maybe throw her in the ocean, since the salt water was something his type stayed away from because of the risk of rust. Decepticons probably wouldn't go into the ocean to recover Megatron, much less a lower-on-the-totem-pole femme.

     "I um... I hope I don't smell funny? I mean, I haven't gotten a good wash in a while, but I don't think I stepped on or touched anything that would cause ya to turn your nose up at me? But make sure to let me know if there is so I can take care of the issue right away. I don't want to smell like a skunk or something and no one's told me all this time."