[ti]Ep 3.5[/ti]Your Autobot is Outside [ Miko | Closed ]

[Miko Nakadai]

Miko couldn't stop smiling.

It was so weirdly refreshing for someone – either human or Cybertronian – to have a genuine, positive reaction to the type of music she liked. It was so often written off as nothing but annoying noise, paired with a polite grimace and forced pleasantries as they sat through as much as they could. Yet here was Sunstreaker, someone she'd kinda… maybe underestimated a little bit given her flashy altmode, thinking her a bit of a snob who'd be more into pop music, showing her that uh, no, she was actually PRETTY dang cool!

This'd been the most fun she'd had on a ride home in what felt like forever - oh sure, Bulkhead was great! But there was a sort of comfortable familiar constant to him that while… it wasn't boring, it was sort of just the same old same old. They blasted music, sure, since it was pretty much the only correct way to listen to these kinds of songs, but he never went this fast, ever.

She didn't mind taking the long way home at all, and in a way was kinda sad that she did have to go home instead of back to Omega One. However, there was a silver lining to this outcome in that she could totally burn a CD for Sunstreaker as a surprise now that she knew the femme wouldn't be scared off by decent music.

"Yeah!" came the instant reply to the question, not quite shouting, though raising her voice enough to be heard.

"This is amazing! Seriously!! You sure you gotta take me home? We coooould go back to Omega One for a bit!"

It'd make the slight detour just that little bit longer, to the point they could probably sneak in an extra song, though she knew she was probably pushing her luck - having been stuck in detention for so long that it'd eaten pretty much all of the extra time she would've normally spent at Base, the answer would probably be a big ole no.

Though she still felt the need to ask anyway, just in case.

[Sunstreaker]

What was this feeling? This something that had wormed its way into her spark. It wasn't just the drums, bass and vocals. It was as if the curtain had been pulled back on something great and terrible, something that could not and should not have ever seen the light of day. Sunstreaker searched herself for the answer, even if she knew it was a useless notion.

Was she having fun?

Fun?

With a human?

This was a concerning development, without a doubt. She didn't hate humans, or even dislike them -- it was a measured distaste more than anything else. Slimy organic bodies, fragile, squishy. And Primes above, the opinions! Opinions on her! And her paint job! They lacked the level of sentience necessary to properly gain cognizance of the perfection that had graced their presence. All of this was broken away by the simple fact that the kid was fucking cool.

They sailed down the roads as if a storm was to their backs -- mostly free of traffic at this hour as well. Sunstreaker was demonstrating her experience as a pursuit cop as the music played. Her bobs and weaves on four tires were smooth, elegant, and consistently effortless. The odd car on the road mattered very little to her, even on the two-lane road. She swept around them with subtle tilts of her steering coupled with high speeds, all perfectly timed. It was like dodging rocks while river rafting.

Only your raft was a Lamborghini Aventador.

Miko's happy protests hit her driver's audials.

"Nope," she answered, veiling her reluctance. "Not that irresponsible." Anymore. "'Sides, pretty sure half of Omega would have my head if anything happened to you out here."