[ti]Flashback[/ti]Junction

[Javelin]

Cybertron

Iacon

Pre-War

“Hey, watch it!”

The small blue vehicle darted to the side to avoid a larger, sleeker vehicle to flash past.

The highway here was extremely busy. Cybertronians with ground vehicle alt modes were cruising from point A to B, intent on getting to work, to get off from work, or so any other number of things. A goodly majority of them were flashy, sleek looking things, low to the ground and appearing wind swept. Lights were low slung and oblong.

Here and there the occasional public transport lumbered in and out of traffic. Those without alt modes that enabled easy transport were dependent on these. Inside the windows one could see the occupants, sitting or standing, the majority of them being smallish in size.

Lights on poles lined the highway, different colors indicating when off or on ramps were approaching. Overhead the sky was an inky black, the stars difficult to see in the light the great city was putting out.

Seeing the pale green of her upcoming off ramp, Javelin eased to the right, and slid off the main highway.

She was going to Iacon.

This was her last message to deliver. Someone in Iacon was going to set up a new business, delivering energon to the more outwardly stations on Cybertron, and an agreement had been made. To add a personal touch, they had decided to send the papers with a messenger, and Javelin had been the last messenger at the station.

Javelin loved Iacon.

It was so beautiful. The towers, the bridges...everything had arches and buttresses that curved and swept gracefully. Some were downright breathtaking. It was a perfect example of how the upper classes lived, and Javelin loved to be there sometimes, just taking it all in.

As she moved closer to the outskirts of the city, she couldn’t help but notice there seemed to be a lot more traffic heading out here than normal.

Well, she wasn’t small and fast for nothing!

Darting between the larger vehicles, the blue scout shimmied and wiggled her way along the highway, entering Iacon proper.

[Pyrotech]

As Javelin was funneled along with the rest of the traffic, she would find herself traversing a massive, multi-level suspension bridge. Bright white and red lights were far above her; blinking their constant warning to the aerial traffic far above her. A river of vehicles whirred along, all colors and sizes. The hiss and rush of their of their hovering systems mingled with the roar of tire to sleek, metal road. When she crossed and continued towards the downtown of the great city it would perhaps start to feel as if the larger vehicles she was weaving through were small and non-descript. Even the trundling transports with their load of passengers were dwarfed against this backdrop.

It funneled her easily into what was certainly a showcase of one of the most elegant areas of the city. Double-doored entrances with actual mechs outside that waited patiently to open them for their patrons. Massive towers and buildings rose tall and sharp against the light-polluted sky, their elegant spires twisting delicately upwards. Flashes of constant color illuminated the sides of the road as signs touted places to come inside for perfectly poured drinks, advertised plays, concerts, even massive showrooms for private spacecraft. Every turn was loaded with businesses that beckoned the top end wares they had to sell.

The traffic had come to a bottleneck, though. Javelin would find herself stopped among the other impatient Cybertronians. Luckily she had stopped before a crosswalk, so she wouldn't have to press tight up against the mech in front of her. Always a bit rude to have your hood up someone's bumper without at least offering them a handshake.

The sounds of construction could even be heard over the idling mechs.

A massive crane towered off to her left hand side, lifting incredibly large girders with casual ease and swinging them towards a flattened area in which a new building was obviously going up. It would no doubt be another of those elegant towers; even incomplete, it showed an understated grace in the way it was finding a place within the landscape. Far, far ahead of her were warning signs, and a couple of police mechs directing traffic to come forward at intervals with a raised hand or a quick electronic trill of sound.

Meanwhile, a group of of mechs stepped off the far curb and began to walk across the street. Obviously, they were involved in the building work; both of them were massive and burly, bearing bright reflective strips on their wrists and chest. One of them grinned and punched the other in the shoulder as they walked towards their workplace, likely laughing at some off-color joke.

It was no doubt going to be a bit of a wait.

Walking some distance behind them, another mech moved into the crosswalk. His spotless, gleaming red finish reflected the lights around him, and he moved with a purposeful gait, as if he was always headed somewhere important. A datapad was tucked under his arm. As he strode across, he appeared to be deep in some sort of conversation with someone on a private-comm, his hand lifting in the air to emphasize a point. Halfway across, the mech turned his head to glance at the crane behind him with a pensive frown and shook his head.

So lost in this discussion, he apparently didn't recognize the whistle of the officer some distance ahead, calling traffic onward once again.

Eager to not be behind schedule due to the lurching flow of traffic, the large transport next to Javelin trundled forward. The mech was below the driver's line of vision. He was no doubt at best going to get clipped by one of the massive mirrors, or- well, bounced off the front end of a very large bus right directly in front of Javelin.

Well, this fellow had the appearance of a mech with some sort of decent income.

Hopefully that also applied to his medical insurance.

[Javelin]

As she slowed to join the rest of the traffic, Javelin cast her attention to the sights around her.

This was always one of her favourite places to be. Iacon was so bright, so lovely to look at. The colors and brilliant lights easily dazzled and charmed. Whenever she had messages to run or small packages to deliver, she always took her time, as much as she was able, so she could enjoy the sights.

As a messenger, Javelin didn’t get to live in Iacon – her tiny, personal living cube was in another part of Cybertron – a small cube surrounded by hundreds of other cubes in mass living buildings. It was where the “lower middle class” were put. But here...oh, here...

Even the outsides of the buildings were gorgeous. They looked like...well, like....

Javelin didn’t even really have the words to describe what they looked like. Graceful arches, tall, twisting spires, flowing walls and buttresses. Some of them looked like they shouldn’t even be able to stand on their own, let alone house people or offices.

Her attention was pulled down to the two large mech passing by in front of them, their appearance making her think they were the ones working on the new building. It’s internal framework already reaching for the sky, it looked like it would be a real thing of beauty. She hoped she’d be able to see it when it was complete.

Javelin almost didn’t even see the other mech as he stepped into the crosswalk. He was slight, though a brilliant red. Walking behind the other two as he was, he almost seemed tiny, although his attitude was more vivid than his paint. He was paying absolutely no mind to what was going on around him as he talked to someone.

Then the signal was given, and the vehicles and other mecha around her started to ramp up their engines, getting ready to move forward. Javelin herself started to move...before she realized Mr. Fancy Paint had either stopped or had slowed to a near crawl, looking back towards a crane.

Oh.

It was one of those situations where a person has a quick inner dialogue with themselves.

He’s gonna move. Any second now. He’s gonna see the transport. Don’t do anything dumb. He'll be fine.

The transport started to move forward.

Don’t do anything stupid. You’re going to embarrass yourself. The transport is gonna see him and stop. It will be fine. Mr. Fancy Paint there will see him and move. He'll be fiiiine. There will be cursing. Just don’t do anything embarrassing.

The transport continued to move, and the mech in the crosswalk didn’t turn. She suddenly realized the mech was too low for the transport to even see him there, likely had no idea he was there at all.

He'll be ok. He'll be fiiiiine.  Don’t. Do. Anything. Stupid. You’ll. Just. End upembarassohdamnitall!

Tires screeched as Javelin shot forward, her front right bumper thumping against the transport, giving him what she hoped was a heads up warning, a microsecond for him to hit the brakes. At the same time, she burst out of her alt mode, landing roughly on her peds in a staggering one-two step, before she managed to dart forward, slipping into the space between the transport and Mr. Fancy Paint. Attempting to reach out and grab his wrist or elbow, she prayed she’d be able to hook him and pull him enough to the side the transport would miss him.

Of course, if she failed, there would be two squashed mecha, and not one, possibly blended into a lovely shade of purple paint.

[Pyrotech]

The transport lurched forward.

Javelin was faster.

At the thump on the bumper, the mech glanced aside from the crane he was looking at. His optics narrowed for the briefest of seconds as if he was unamused about being interrupted, but then they went wide as he realized oh, he was being interrupted by a bus. Not even a bus horn, the front end of a bus- and he was headed into his new career of shiny hood ornament.

The mech stumbled back a step, completely off balance. He threw up his left hand as if he was somehow going to stop the transport with it.

Javelin's swift leap fit neatly into that space between him and the bus. A larger mech might have been hit, but she was fast and she was nimble as she avoided the wide, heavy vehicle. Her fingers easily locked around his wrist. Even though he was taller than her, broader, he wasn't a truly heavy framed mech. It also helped that the metal road beneath their feet as slick and sleek as the mech's well-waxed frame.

Locked in her grip, he was spun back away from the danger, and the transport rushed into the empty space where they'd been seconds before.

The mech stared down at her. His red optics reflected her upturned face as he seemed to realize the only thing standing between him and a date with the nearest medic was her.

"Thank you, ah - are you all right?" he asked her, and his dry, upper-class accent was heavy and obvious. "I-"

Whatever else he was going to say was drowned out in a blare of sound. The other vehicles were rushing forward in an effort to get through the intersection before the officer directed them to stop. Everyone was late, and no one wanted to wait any longer. Especially not for two Cybertronians standing in the middle of the crosswalk.

"Move it!"

"Get out of the way!"

"Come on, I don't have time for this!"

Beep, beep, BEEP!

Apparently everyone quickly gave up on words and was back to leaning on their horns as if they delighted on getting to actually use them for once.

Immediately, the mech's head jerked up. He twisted in her grip, but didn't wrench out of it. Quickly, he attempted to pull on her in an effort to get them both to safety on the sidewalk.

[Javelin]

The second her hand made contact with his wrist she knew she had made a mistake. It was as if physical contact shocked her brain into realizing that, yes, she had just jumped into traffic to rescue a mech who most likely didn’t need to be rescued. Of course the traffic had stopped in time to keep him from being plastered all over the road. Of course she had just made an absolute fool of herself by attempting some sort of hero’s rush, and now everyone was going to stare at her and probably laugh.

As her momentum pulled the mech to the side, turning him in place, as her own peds staggered astep or two around him, Javelin felt the rush of air as the transport that had been about to crush him sailed past, and she suddenly realized she had been right. He had been about to be flattened.

Having regained her balance, she straightened slightly, looking up into his face as he looked down at her.

And here it comes, she thought, the ‘How dare you?’s , and the ‘What do you think you’re doing?’s. I’ll be here for -

Oh.

His accent placing him with the elites of Cybertron was quite obvious, and to Javelin, it only seemed to highlight the entire strange happenings.

She found herself almost unable to move. A small part of her was still telling her that this mech hadn’t really been in danger and she had just done something very stupid. And yet no one had gotten angry...

Javelin almost flinched when the horns started, and the angry protestations. She wasn’t normally a shy or nervous individual, but you didn’t walk on Cybertron’s surface very long before becoming very aware of the classes inherent in the system. She felt extremely out of place.

Because of this, it was easy for the mech to pull her to the side, allowing the traffic to start flowing again.

As the traffic lumbered by with a few annoying blats from some horns as they passed, Javelin looked back up at the red mech, only to realize she didn’t exactly know what to say. Had this been any other mech in her own class, or lower, she would have laughed and made a joke about how close he had come to being used for spare parts.

“Uh...are you alright? That was close.....”

[Pyrotech]

The mech's dark fingers were gently wrapped around her forearm, and he hadn't let go of her just yet. He nodded again, but didn't move away from her or take a step back. The sleek doors behind his shoulders lifted slightly, as if he was drawing in a shaky pull of air to cool his systems down.

A horn beeped again, and this time his head turned and he and shot an angry glance towards it, his crimson optics narrowing sharply. As the vehicle skittered through the intersection, he pursed his lips and let the heated trickle of air he'd been holding out of them and immediately turned back to her. For a moment, he glanced her over as if he was searching her frame scrapes or scuffs or hard damage from the transport.

"That was close, yes, but I am fine," he reassured her. "I'm just fine. I won't be gracing a medbay today with my presence."

He lifted his free hand and regarded Javelin with obvious chagrin.

"Which is good. My insurance likely does not cover distracted walking."

He chuckled, then glanced back at the packed street behind them. It was then he seemed to realize he was still holding onto her. With an immediate, apologetic smile, he lifted his hand off of her plating and stepped back a pace from her, politely giving her back her space.

"Forgive me if my head in my work has caused you to be late for something. Can I offer you something for your troubles? Transport fare? Can I contact anyone for you? A drink, if your nerves are as unsettled as mine from that close call?"

[Javelin]

Javelin found herself standing to the side, her arm still held lightly by the mech. She felt a little awkward, not entirely sure what to do now. She probably shouldn’t linger....she was still in a high-class district after all, and she was pretty sure someone would soon start questioning her presence.

When he turned his bright optics on her, she inwardly tensed, still waiting for him to be angry that she had basically jumped him, manhandling him to the side. So when he spoke in a polite manner to her, Javelin found herself quietly startled, and then bemused.

Wow, he was kind of being nice about it.

His faint joke, and then the realization he was still holding onto her, the somewhat awkward way he released her and took a step back....she suddenly realized that maybe he was feeling as odd about it, that maybe he wasn’t as bad as she had been expecting.

He spoke again, and offering to pay something for her troubles set off faint bells in Javelin’s processor. She couldn’t ask for payment for saving his life. Maybe saving his life...possibly saving his life. No, that was just all sorts of wrong. He had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And she had no one he could call....save her employer, and she really would rather he not know she was there. She really should have returned a while ago, and he might demand to know why she was taking so long.

A...drink?

Did he really just...

Javelin’s mind instantly went “Nope!”, and she opened her mouth to politely refuse, to back away. Mixing with the elites could really only end in trouble, when she said something to annoy or irritate, or worse, insult him. She didn’t know anything about how to talk to someone of the upper class, and so a quiet but hasty retreat was probably for the best.

“I...uh...sure. Ok, a drink sounds good.”

A smile outwardly on her face, inside she was facepalming.

“Only I’m not really familiar with any place around here, so you’ll have to do the picking. I mean...if you’re sure you’re ok. Maybe I should be calling someone for you?”

Javelin shifted her weight from one ped to another, awkwardly starting to cross her arms, then changing her mind, and attempting to set her hands to her hips, only to have her arms just hang at her sides for a moment.

[Pyrotech]

The mech inclined his head and watched her shift her weight, her stance. The small, lithe femme was obviously uncomfortable, and for a moment he simply couldn't figure out why. She wasn't hurt, she hadn't been struck. The horns around them had stopped and moved on to other beeping intersections.

She had hesitated, seemed so caught out by what he'd said all of a sudden.

Which was odd, she'd just saved him a lot of repairs if not worse. No one wanted to get hit by one of those transports. It had been entirely his fault too, his mind had been on work, but that felt like that was most of his life lately. Travel, build, repair, repeat. He'd been taking a call about a complaint with a builder in Vos at the same time he was arguing over the way rivets were laid in this structure in Iacon.

He loved the work. He loved to build, he loved to design. Architecture was a passion to him; the designs, the tones, the way a structure rose from an idea into something you could walk within. That was something he never grew tired of, but...

All right. What had he said, what had made her- oh. Oh.

Lovely. Excellent job, sir. She saves me from being hit, I immediately, rudely ask if she wants to go to a bar with a stranger on the spur of the moment. Absolutely I would be uncomfortable if it happened to me.

She said yes- wait, she said yes...

"I apologize," the red mech murmured immediately, his tone quiet and contrite. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot. Please. Don't think you have to go anywhere with me you do not want to. It was just an automatic moment on my part. I suppose my nerves got rattled more than I would care to admit, but..."

He glanced up at the buildings around them. "It's been a long, long week," he said, bringing up his hand to rub tiredly underneath his left optic. Then he smiled and shook his head.

"I don't think I have anyone who would even know what to do with me if you called them," he admitted. "But? If you really do want to go, yes, I know a place. It isn't far from here, and it is decent. You don't have to stay long, especially if you're in a hurry."

He trailed off and gave a small wince.

"You kindly keep me out of a near death experience and I haven't even introduced myself, have I? I am rattled, my manners are terrible."

"My name is Pyrotech."

[Javelin]

Javelin found herself feeling a little sorry for the red mech. He did look rattled – not surprising, considering he had nearly been flattened a few moments ago. And the fact he hadn’t turned on her for putting hands on him, or embarrassing him helped as well. He may speak with a grand accent, and was clearly one of the elite, but he didn’t seem overbearing or arrogant.

At least not yet.

She found herself relaxing a little more as he spoke. His manners were charming, and when she smiled again, it was genuine.

“It has been a long week,” she agreed, thinking back on the things she had done, the messages delivered, the energon sought out, “And I’m sure you’ll find a lovely spot. I was just consulting my schedule for today.”

The lie slipped out easily, she hoped, not wanting the mech to think she didn’t trust him, but she had to find some reason she had hesitated.

She paused for a moment, “Pyrotech.”

It was a nice name – not overly dramatic like some she had encountered, where the name alone made one think the owner would be a pain in the aft. It conjured up images of being a little showy, but not overly so. Short, and yet charming....

“I’m Javelin,” she replied, smiling up at him, “And it is a pleasure to meet you, even if on less than pleasant conditions.”

She was curious as to what he did, but she wasn’t sure if that was considered taboo among the upper class. It reminded her again that she was in unfamiliar territory here, and yet so far, Pyrotech had seemed nothing but accepting.

Well, if everything went south, she could always bail....

[Pyrotech]

"Javelin," he repeated with impeccable politeness. "A pleasure as well."

The name suited her. At least he thought so. Elegant and light, but that didn't mean she couldn't hold her own against any of those he worked around, not with the way she'd knocked him out of danger like that.

The difference was that he was surrounded by construction mechs and femmes all day, and not many of them ever relaxed around him that quickly.

Or show him an easy, pretty smile once they did.

Which had been a tremendously nice change from his daily routine. It almost made being smashed by a bus worth it. Almost.

Pyrotech was tired of having things brought to him and thrown on his desk without even an attempt at a smile or a nod, just a - have this done by tomorrow afternoon, faster is better. Right now, everything seemed to be like that. Manners had been forgotten in the attempt to get the job done as quickly as possible. It wasn't that he didn't approve of efficiency. That was a priority for him. He didn't like wasting time himself, but he was a mech that absolutely preferred please and thank you as part of someone's vocabulary.

Most of the planning committees and the city councils didn't understand that. They simply complained about every little thing, forced him to wait on them as they took weeks to decide if his electrician could actually run a conduit along the left wall instead of the right one. He loathed them at times. He was the first to admit it.

"All right then, as long as I'm not causing any problems with your office or schedule," the glossy red mech reiterated with concern, before taking a step or two away from her to place a respectful space between them. The sidewalk had become busy again, with a few of the construction mechs casting a glance or two his way before they slipped back into the work-yard.

"You too?" he wondered, his accent casually touching on his words as he looked up at the building again and then began to walk down the street. "Ah, work. I feel that. At least I assume it has to do with work..?"

[Javelin]

Javelin fell into step beside him, easily moving around the larger bots that occasionally moved into her path. She almost made it seem second nature – and in a way, it was. Messengers usually had to learn to navigate busy streets, filled with both vehicles and walkers, in order to get to their destination quickly. She never seemed interrupted by this – if she had to step away from his side to make a quick dart around a larger mech who happened to be in her way, she simply cut the conversation, even mid-sentence if needed, until she was back at his side again, and picked it up once more.

“No trouble with my schedule. This is my last stop, actually, and there’s no huge rush, as long as I make the delivery before sundown. I wanted to take my time here.....”

Her voice lowered slightly, as if she didn’t want to be overheard.

“I love coming to Iacon. Everything here is so beautiful. It’s like nowhere else on Cybertron, and I linger longer than I should.”

Smiling at him, she spoke naturally again, “And yeah, it is kinda work related. Just....you know....deadlines, co-workers, things like that.”

Javelin doubted he’d understand what it was like having to work so closely with others, sharing tasks and details. Being told you only had so much time to get a certain thing or message from one place to another, that your pay would be cut if you were later than this many minutes....sometimes the stress kinda dragged on you. And it was almost always her fault if something was late. Overturned hauling tub? Your problem. Criminal on the loose and the cops had a barrier up? Your problem. Meteor come flying in out of a quiet sky and take out a section of a ramp you needed? Your problem.

But this place....

As she walked, she took in the sights around her. Even the construction site that they had just been near hinted at something grand to come. It was like watching a living being as they were created, from the internal structure and support to the finished product.