[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Dig Deep [ Open ]

[Jazz]

Timeline: Week 2 || Day 2 - Before dawn

---

     "Ya ready, Cliffjumper?"
     "Always."
     "Try not to have too much fun without me."
     "Just keep your channels open in case the rescuers need some rescuing!"

------

     :: Cliff, what are ya doin'?! ::
     :: Gettin' my jump on! ::

     A jump that proved to be a failure, but he had expected that. A precision shot to the fuel lines rectified it. "Yeah, ya jumped into that one." Dummy.

------

     "So there we were, surrounded by the enemy forces..."

     "Don't you mean I was surrounded by the enemy forces? I was busy watchin' your back while you were tryin' to break the Decepticon's little toy more. Pretty sure I was the only one in danger."

     "You're lucky I spotted that enemy on the left!"

     "I told you to worry about you. I had it covered."

     "I WAS worried about me."

     That brought on some laughter from the others at Jazz's expense, and received a scolding look from the older mech, in which Cliffjumper clearly seemed to pretend not to notice as he went on with his story. Jazz would have rolled his optics if he had a pair, but a shake of his helm would do. If the red mech wanted to boost his ego with their comrades, Jazz would let him, especially since the mech seemed to enjoy telling these far-fetched tales.

     "So I rerouted the toxic waste back to the server core and blew the facility sky high. Of course, saving the day." 

     He could have dispersed this little party by pulling rank, but he opted not to and just sat in his seat at the opposite end of the table, chin in his servo as he watched and listened in as the story continued, a small smile creeping to his face. 

---

     "Yeah, ya really saved the day back then. Saved my aft too, as much as I hated to admit it." Jazz sat next to the pile of stones that made up the makeshift grave for the mech. "Wish I would have been here to return the favor, buddy." 

     He'd been losing himself to his thoughts quite frequently as of late, which was highly irregular of him. He chalked it up to the rationing of the resources as the source of the issue, but somehow he didn't think it was just that. Between the conversations he had with Bee and Patch, the situation with the yellow Scout, and the dealings with their sentient flamethrower, Jazz's resolve was being tested. He knew there had definitely been a trigger since it seemed to have been riled up around that same time. 

     Everything was going down the drain in a hurry in one direction or another. He lived for the pulls, as it kept him busy and focusing on other things other than his bothersome processor, but throwing it ontop of starvation didn't seem to be the correct combination. Maybe trying to distance himself from the kids would be in his best interest, in spite of the enjoyment he had when in their company, for the sake of finding his own calm center. 

     Perhaps not just the kids. 

     Jazz leaned back on his servos and just stared at everything and nothing all at once.

[Rain]

Rain woke slowly to the gentle vibrations of the alarm. Long long ago during the war, she learnt to grab a recharge whenever, wherever she could. Her internal body clock held to no circadian rhythm anymore and so she needed an alarm to wake her up if she had any plans. The lithe flier slept chest down with her face in her arms, her antler like finials folded flush to her helm. As she slowly woke, she pushed up and stretched. With the activity at Omega base, Rain had found little peace to meditate and so she had started to rise before dawn to satisfy two of her passions.

With all the delicacy that a 20 foot tall mechanoid cout aspire to, she crept through the Autobot home. She headed for the top, outside under the predawn sky. Once exposed to the outside air, she stretched her arms wide, arched back slightly to stare blank faced up at the stars. The air was cool and to Rain, it was brisk and refreshing. Despite her face consisting of just a large single optic, her sight wasn't especially sensitive. It took her a moment to realise somebody was already up here with her. Calmly with gentle steps, she walked upto the other Autobot.

“Room for one more?” She enquired.

[Jazz]

     Jazz hadn't been really paying attention to what was happening around him, so when Rain arrived he leaned back on his servos enough that he could tilt his helm back and stared at her. She appeared upside down to him, but that was merely with how he was staring. It took him a moment to register her completely, tapping into the data files he had downloaded from the mainframe so he could properly recognize the designations of those within the base.

     Helped to be safe, rather than sorry.

     "Sure. Rain, isn't it?" he finally replied with a wide smile and straightened himself out, properly turning slightly at the waist so he could watch her approach. "Just me and Cliff here catchin' up. We don't get much of chance to anymore." He patted the mound of rocks lightly, careful to not send the makeshift grave crumbling. "Usually he's a real chatterbox, but he's bein' kinda quiet. Guess he doesn't feel much like a conversationalist these days." Jazz let out a slightly frustrated vent, as though disappointed in his old friend. Sure, it was just a pile of rocks and a small fragment of him under there somewhere, and one would probably assume Jazz had a few loose screws, but Jazz didn't care. He eased himself away from the grave and scooted to the edge of the cliff to return his gaze to the horizon.

     "Sun should be comin' up in a bit, so I figured I'd just come up here and watch it. Didn't think anyone would be out of recharge at this hour." He regarded her again. "But I offer pennies for your thoughts if there's somethin' that's keepin' ya up."

     He went silent then, waiting to see what her reaction would be and how she would respond to him.

[Rain]

“Right as Rain, Jazz. Got it in one”. Her response was a slight mischievous. Eons spent in high caste social circles had taught Rain the knack for picking up names and faces from overheard conversation, and she was just cheeky enough to abuse it occasionally. She offered her left fist for a bump as a way of official introduction.

Rain stared at the horizon, at the point the sun would rise from. “Penny for my thoughts huh? That’s pretty generous for this airhead”. A little bit of self deprecating humour. This was normal for her. She’d long ago found when the war was still spreading that the psychological trick helped her mental balance. It helped with her humility and helped to keep her positive. Anything at all that kept her positive was fiercely needed.

“What’s keeping me up is an alarm and self motivation.” She chuckled. “I was going to meditate and watch the sunrise. The meditation can just go jump now I have good company, and the sunrise will happen no matter what”. The smile in her field slumped as she finally let herself peer at the cairn.

“It never gets easier does it? We carry out past friends with us. Sometimes they still give us slag, or advice and we never want to let them fade to grey.”

[Jazz]

      "A penny ain't worth much anymore as far as human standards go, so don't think it's that generous." 

     He shot her a grin before brightening up his visor to make up for the lack of light so he could see more of what he was staring at. There wasn't any movement around at this hour, so he was able to cut back and relax for the time being. Even though he never seemed to be, he was always vigilant with being aware of his surroundings.

     Ah, there was the topic of discussion. Thanks, Cliff.

     "It doesn't get easier because it ain't supposed to. Ya just learn how to manage everythin' that comes with it so ya don't end up losin' yourself in the process." He didn't like the frown that came to her face, and the mood seemed to drop with the beat in that instant. Jazz vented and shrugged as he offered her the suggestion from his own personal experience. "The memories just kinda spring back when they wanna, and you can chose how ya wanna deal with 'em."

-----

     "If I knew you were gonna drink yourself stupid, I would have just knocked you around the training deck until you couldn't stand anymore instead of the bar." Reload jerked a servo to cover his mouth just in time to muffle the gagging noise that he made, and he glared fiercely at Jazz. "I swear to Primus if you turn me into a sympathy puker I will throttle you."

------

     "Sometimes they don't give ya the choice, but then it's your responsibility to keep movin' so that their sacrifices don't get tossed in the Pits. Right now, I got an annoyin' bugger who I thought I wouldn't have to deal creepin' around in here remindin' me that he ain't plannin' on goin' anywhere."
 Jazz shifted his pedes slightly and tucked one leg under the other to get more comfortable in his position.

     "If ya wanna meditate up here be my guest. As much as I like to hear myself talk, I know how to be quiet when the situation calls for it."

[Rain]

“Rightly said. It is our duty afterall to remember.” Rain sat down next to Jazz with her legs tucked under her and her long feet sticking out past her aft. She rested her hands on her thighs and just relaxed for a moment. With her optic closed, she just simply allowed herself to enjoy the simple exercising of existing on this planet that promised beautiful sunrises.

Still with optic closed and warmth in her voice she continued. “I’ve come to find the memories I cherish of good friends to be good guidance for navigating the storm. Too many conflicting desires pulling like turbulent winds, honoring the past helps me fly the righteous desire. I’ve done too much in vain, and for vanity, to not pay heed to the guiding winds.” Rain gently chuckled. She was not here to further mourn or add to grief’s burden. Glancing a bit sideways, she briefly admired the elegant simplicity of Jazz’s colors and lines before returning to her blind gazing.

“I like it up here, it is a pleasant planet to call home.” She smiled without a mouth as a gentle breeze caressed her finials. Rain was a stereotypical flier in her love for open spaces; she wondered if Jazz held a love for close in racing so many grounders seemed to feel.

“Don't feel a need to be shy on my account, you have a pleasant voice and I don't mind more of it” Rain gently and cheekily chided. She was always down for friendly banter. Building upon a friendship helped as much with her inner harmony as meditation did.

[Jazz]

     Jazz knew she was looking at him, but he didn't pull his gaze from the horizon. ""Humans have a sayin, that you should take a picture cause it'll last longer." His visor flickered as it fed back readings into his HUD. All was still clear. "Now, if ya stare long enough I may get the wrong impression. Especially after tellin' me I got a pleasant voice. I can tell ya a whole list of designations that would disagree with ya." He crossed his legs, tucking his pedes under his knees and planted his left elbow on the same side knee, chin cupped in the servo. This femme certainly had an odd way of talking, but it was familiar to him somehow- not because it was her, but rather he knew someone else who spoke with such weird sentences.

     A playful scoff came from him.

     "I dunno about all that. Not to be insultin', but if you use their guidance to help ya get through problems, then either you're livin' way too deep in the past or ya didn't learn from the first time ya made the mistake that they helped ya get through and you're repeatin' it. Neither one of those situations is very ideal." Jazz couldn't really see himself using memories to guide him through anything, but he supposed some did use that as a way to push through... coping, as if the missing party were still there. "Guess you were lucky that ya had good enough teachers to help ya along. I was kinda stuck learnin' the ropes on my own."

-----

     "I can't help it! My tanks were empty but it was still comin'!" Jazz managed to laugh in spite of the clear discomfort he was enduring at the moment. "And serves ya right to suffer with me! YOU let me drink that much!"

     "I tried to stop you! You told me to mind my own business."

     "Tell me when I've ever said that to ya and ya haven't pulled rank on my aft."

     "Don't you blame me for your-" Jazz let out an audiable sound like he was going to spill again, which shut Reload just as fast as anything to cover his mouth again and gag. "JAZZ. Now you're doing it on purpose you worthless piece of slag!" Reload looked back at him and frowned. "Have ya even ever drank that much before?!"

     "Sure I have," Jazz managed out. "Every time I need ta forget somethin'."

     "I don't think that's how that... you know what? Nevermind. I'm not even gonna say my opinion in that, I'll just ask. Does it ever work?"

     "In the moment it does. But it tends to come back later."

     "Yeah, thought so you slagger. Though... Which part? The memory, or the high grade?"

     "Both."

-----

     "Didn't exactly have the best role models myself, either. But, it is what it is. Ya deal with it, or ya end up hurlin' yourself outta the nearest airlock and hope that there's not enough left of ya for anyone to need to pick up."

     Jazz finally regarded her, tilting his helm slightly to the side so he could look at the femme who had decided to put herself next to him. "Memories are what ya make 'em. Most of mine aren't very good, but they remind me that each one of these fools swimmin' around in my noggin' did somethin' stupid enough to get themselves offlined and I'm still here to carry their sorry afts around for as long as I function." A light-sparked chuckle came from him after tapping himself on the helm with his free servo before considering the other. "So what's your story? Gimme somethin' to store in my data files next to your face."

[Rain]

Rain quietly laughed in the darkness. “No insult taken and while I can't argue with your sentiment, I think you've caught the wrong air current. Let me see if I can clarify what I meant for you. I’m a creature of desire really, not so much conviction, though it was both desire and conviction that handed me this.” Rain pointed up to her own face, just a large lonely optic where most others had a pair and a mouth. “When I remember others, it is not their words or even their advice I think of, it's their actions and deeds, the strength of their spark and convictions. They've shown the right path, the hard path through example. Most days, I don't want to go down that path, but I know I must.”

Rain leaned back placing her hand behind her on the ground, just outside her cloven peddes, and stared straight up at the stars wistfully. “It would have been so easy so many times over for me to just fly away from the storm of war, follow the currents taken by all the neutrals, but even in my spark, I know the destruction caused by our enemy brethren must absolutely stop. I struggle to kill, even when the enemy most assuredly deserves oblivion for the pain they cause, and I say this with the utmost belief that all our sparks return to the one when we grey. And then I feel guilty from taking pride in a well placed arrow that killed. So yeah, I set myself up in a stupid circle.

So when I say I remember those who have fallen to guide me, I’m taking strength from their strength to help do what I believe I must. For the sanctity of life.” Rain brought up her right hand to her face and stared at the three flat digit. It was her third set of hands, her first pair replaced by her second in the process of empurata; enduring that was somehow easier than killing a Decepticon.

Rain chuckled as Jazz asked about her story. “Most I’ve met would consider my face enough for their data files as is. Few are so upfront in their curiosity. Long before the war, I was a fashionista, worked my aft off designing and painting up everyone pretty. And by working hard, I meant going to parties and socialising and sinning. I was vain and arrogant and young, I had wealth and influence but not as much as I thought I did and that was a problem. At some point I took to the animals' rights cause, worked my way into a leadership role in the group. We rallied and borderline rioted to stop the like of Turbo-fox hunting. We kind of made a mess of things for those who abused animals for their own pursuits. We got arrested and charged, and I received empurata for my part. Perfect punishment for someone so full of themself. And it was! Oh I hated the council for so long but the simple truth is I'm a better person because of it. Though I’m still a wee bit vain even still.” She giggled.

“So what about you then? How do you want to be remembered?”

[Jazz]

     "Our kind can be really cruel to each other, that's for sure. I wish I could say it's just limited to the war, but I would be lyin' if I said that." There was a less than pleasant noise that rumbled in his throat after he listened to Rain and gave his confession and he shifted in discomfort as he dredged up a nasty memory that caused him to visibly flinch.

     "I used to hate those like you- Towerlings, the 'rich and famous', all of that. I got forced into that life by one of them who treated me as an object to further his own wealth by using my skill to parade me around the masses like a pretty piece of arm candy. Thankfully for him, his greed blinded him and I was able to put a stop to him. He probably faced a fate similiar to you cause of what I did. It certainly didn't make me any better that I used that leverage to advance my own place in society, but I don't regret it cause I was able to meet Orion." Jazz thought about it for a while and looked at his servo, turning it in several different directions. "Come to think of it, I haven't played music again since then. Hm. Didn't realize it'd been that long."

     There was a moment of silence as he returned his gaze overhead again. Her question was still there, lingering between them as it waited for an answer. Did he really have one? He never thought about it, to be honest. He did his thing, and if he was remembered, then so be it. Now that he had to actually think it over he felt a little weird.

     "I could have run away after the Exodus- keep flyin' around the stars tryin' to carve out my little piece of happiness out there among the stars. Forget about all of this and ignore the call to arms. But, to be honest, I couldn't do that to Optimus. He's the whole reason I decided to take the path I did. He turned the anger I had for society and those who wronged me and others and turned it into somethin' positive. I owe it to him to make sure he achieves his ultimate goal, and the fact that I can serve alongside him and help him get there is more than enough to keep me goin'."
 
     The stars that were starting to fade out with the coming of the day. He could make out a few of them, but he couldn't identify any constellations anymore.

     "As for bein' remembered? Hm. If one needs to ask, then I ain't doin' my job. If even one mech remembers me puttin' a smile on their face when they needed it, or playin' a particular piece of music that really spoke to 'em, then that's good enough for me. While I wouldn't change anythin' that I've done up until this point, I certainly don't want my actions in war to be what I'm recognized for. Jazz is just... Jazz. Just like the music, it should flow into your soul and find a spot in your spark where it's safe forever. After I'm gone, I hope that the music never dies for anyone who I've encountered along the way, and they're always able to take comfort in it."

[Rain]

“Not gonna lie, most of us towerlings were glitches to some degree. I’ll leave it to Primus to judge their sparks, but I always felt the worst of us became neutrals who left the planet before the war went full Fubar.” Rain left the rest of her thought unspoken. She’d never left Cybertron very much, and always concluded that those who never chose a side, with no true convictions, were probably still bouncing around the galaxy , and still no less glitchy. “I am glad I stayed to fight. You ever look into the big brown optic of a hyper-kit, and see your own spark reflected back with not a whisper of judgement, then you know the innocent must be protected.” Rain liked animals that way. They never judged her history or her spark. They just wanted peace.

Rain leaned all the way back until her shoulders touched the ground, just some gentle stretching of torso cables while she continued chattering.

“Between you an’ me, I’ve never said more than five words to Optimus Prime on any given day. Never had call to sit up the officers table and for that i’m glad. That amount of responsibility?” Rain shivered in mock fear. “I can't really comprehend how anybot can shoulder that burden.” Some mechs were just made of better mettle.

“Spark music huh? I’ve changed enough during this war that what once was a gentle breeze caressing my spark is now a headwind. I remember when I could lose myself dancing to music. By the Thirteen, that was so long ago. I think I would like to learn more of Terran music, but there’s so many languages and genres, a veritable whirlwind to pursue. You got any advice there on where to start?”

[Jazz]

     "Never met a Towerling that I liked, so I can't tell ya if they were all that way or not. I just stopped payin' attention and just thought they all belong in the smolder. As for the big wig table? It's really not all it's cut out to be. I used to skip as many of those meetin's as I could cause I just didn't like sittin' around forever. Optimus is a good bot with a big spark- he's got wisdom of the ages in that noggin' of his and he's always willin' to help. So seek him out sometime and just... sit down with him. Ya won't regret it. He's nothin' like the commandin' officers I had to answer to directly."

     Jazz thought about what music he could recommend to her, and, honestly, he didn't have a clue. He didn't know what style she would like, what beats would sing to her.

     "Well, it depends on your preference, really. I've got a lot of music saved in data files that I collected in my travels, but I gave those to Bee to listen to since he ain't got the history with Cybertron like I do. You could probably ask to borrow some of them off him." He wondered if Bee had even been able to listen to any of the music. With the way he was since the incident, he felt like maybe the Scout was more distant than he would have liked. He definitely saw the exchange with him and Optimus.

     That wasn't what he needed to focus on, though.

     "I can give ya some comparisons to things here since ya can get a hold of it easier. I can tell ya that I like pretty much everythin' I've heard so far from this planet. Hip hop, samba, pop culture, rock. There's somethin' for everyone and there's so many songs that you're bound to find one that's special to ya. Dependin' on my mood determines what I listen to."

     "There's a type of music genre on this planet that's actually the same as my designation. Good thing that it's actually good, or I would be kinda disappointed."

[Rain]

Rain didn't know exactly how to take Jazz’s admission of his dislike for towerlings. She had been one, a lot of her friends had been too, but that was before the empurata. Yes their viewpoint was heavily skewed but she knew some had good sparks. She liked to pretend she did too. Rain decided to leave the admission where it fell, unremarked. Instead she shifted her thoughts to Optimus Prime. Jazz gave an interesting viewpoint there too. Could she summon the courage to speak to their leader directly? She couldn't answer her internal question. Only time would reveal that truth.

Then the conversation shifted to music. Here she could happily dig in with her processor. She thought out loud. “Music, one of the great gifts of culture and civilisation, seeking enjoyment or connection - or both - in airborne transverse waves. It’s always good to try something new I guess. I’m most familiar with party music I guess, heavy beats that rattle your bolts and course through the energon lines, but that stuff is like a billion years old now. Hmm.” Rain pondered for a moment. “New planet, new life, new music! The local languages take some getting used to so anything vocal I guess I would want clean and clear, good enunciation. Otherwise instrumental would be my pick.”

Rain rolled her head to the side and opened her optic. “Let's follow the wind current, jazz music, I would like to know more please.” She requested.

[Jazz]

     "Ah, jazz! Good choice." Jazz settled in to get comfortable and accessed what he needed of his data files. Music was his specialty, so if Rain wanted to learn about jams? Oh, he had the information about it in spades.

     "Jazz is considered to be the classics of the Americas- been around since the late 19th Century and started in good ol' New Orleans, just south of the Mississippi. Real soul jazz is made up on the spot and the instruments are played solo. They're really rhythmic and are composed of "swing," and uses "bent" or "blue" notes. If there's multiple people playin' in the band, they're perform 'call and response'. Think of it as," he paused and tried to twirled a servo around as he tried to figure out an example. "Say you're playin' a photon-harp, and you strike a note that's answered by someone singing, and when they paused the harp begins again- like they're talkin' to each other. It can happen between voices, voices and instruments, or instruments and instruments."

     "The beauty about jazz is that it tells a story in its music that's always wrapped up in an emotion. Happiness, mournin'... it's all there, and it don't need words to relay the message. Ya can FEEL it all the way down into your very core."

     Clearly Jazz was passionate about what he was talking about with how into it he got. Servos were moving around and he spoke with them as if he were relaying all the information through them while speaking.

     "Ya got different types now- modern sort- that's cool jazz, rhythm and blues, jazz rock, bebop. You can always find somethin' ya like. I like all kinds, but the classic stuff by Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington are among my favorites."

[Rain]

“Slow down there a nano meister. Too much, too fast and I don't want to miss a beat.” Rain laughed. A panel opened up on her thigh with a mental command and Rain withdrew her datapad from the pocket. It was a pair of gold and chrome elegant cylinders, exquisite in their simplicity and quality of craftsmanship. Over four million years old and still functioned with only the odd glitch. As the flier drew the two cylinders apart, a holographic screen was generated between them. It was operated by smartware, recognising speech and gestures. With a flick of her thumbs and some muttered syllables, Rain had brought up a map of the Americas with New Orleans highlighted on half the projection. The other half she pulled up some notes on Jazz with what she could recall from Jazz’s quick spiel. The human names just buzzed right past her, unfamiliar collection of syllables.

“Could we please start again from the top?” She asked with embarrassment in her voice. “The part where it’s made up on the spot and every instrument is solo, how does rhythm and beat work in that setup and not produce turbulence?” Rain was more than happy to go much further than polite curiosity, she liked to dig deep and fly high.

[Jazz]

     "Oh! Yikes, sorry." He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his helm. "Don't ask a music and cultural mech about that kinda stuff and don't expect him to start runnin' off at the mouth. Just tell at me to hold the phone, kiddo." Jazz chuckled some and waited for a moment for her to process what she managed to get through his babbling.

     "Okay, from the top." Her question made him think on it a bit. How could he explain that? It really wasn't one that could just be answered with a black and white answer, so he would have to do what he could.

     "That's the beauty of it," he began. "It just... happens. Jazz is one of those types that there is no real way to do it wrong. You can have one musician playin; a melody that tells of their distress, and another one playin' about how amazin' their day was. It's not about the content of the music, but just... respect for the chords. It was never devised to have a rhyme or reason. It was a poor man's music that was made up for fun and it caught on as one of the classics. Does... that make sense?"

      It probably didn't. Jazz just understood it on a level that most others couldn't. It WAS his designation, after all. He lived for the stuff. He worked and played by it. To him, it just... was.

     "The rules are simple. In a band there's a bandleader and the soloists. The players agree on a musical key and the ringleader picks a tempo and counts them in. Normally there's an opener to this, which sort of sets the entire piece. This opener is played usually played loosely- this is called the 'head'. Then everyone gets to play their solo, setting their own improvisations to the piece and tellin' their own story. Once they get done they can signal to the next player with a nod or a tone in the music that allows the next to bounce off it. When the solos are done, the piece is ended by the band leader again- this is like puttin' a period after the last sentence."

     Jazz took a breathe and shrugged. "It's hard to explain it when it's just somethin' ya know. Trust me, you'd understand the moment you heard it. It just sings to ya in a way nothin' else can or does."