CLOSED | Or open if you wanted to see Rodimus thrown around

[ancillary]

Who: Miranda and Rodimus with special guest star Dorito
Where: Outside Maccadam's
When: Vague hand gesture
What: The story of David and the Giant, Gofuckyourself
Warnings: Rodimus Trying

At some point navigating Cybertron became less a matter of guess work and more routine as she started mapping out the place on her own omni-tool - she had failed to trust anything direct from the network. At least not yet, anyway. So acclimatizing herself to the environment had inevitably required a lot of leg work with Maccadam's becoming her waypoint that she tended to double back towards eventually because it was familiar and stood out against the uniform chrome and unlit blockish buildings that towered over her.

It had been long day, and she had come to Maccadam's to test the leaves from one of the newer outcroppings of tubers. They had scanned as safe to consume with a structure not dissimilar from other plants, and she was itching for a cup of tea. Maccadam's had the equipment for her to experiment. Only she had stopped by the wide door large enough for the natives when she noticed green with a bioluminescent purple tint poking out of a crack between the door and the sidewalk. On any other planet this would have slipped her notice, but she was determined to map out the spontaneously evolving flora of the planet. Kneeling down she started scanning the foliage by the door - she figured what with such a small population the odds of someone being here this time of day were slim so she could work in relative peace.

Comments

[ancillary]

"You asked for it."

The barrier was dropped in a blue curtain with the appearance of falling water that crackled like brittle ice. As soon as she did, Miranda took off fast as a gun shot to the side diving behind a raised guardrail by the road. When she reemerged, it was armed. Opening fire from behind cover.

Aim for between the joints, she told herself. Operating on the assumption she should approach Rodimus as if he were a geth juggernaut. A geth juggernaut with a mouth.

[rodders]

The thing he will swear by is that she started it. All he wanted to do was move her and then she'd attacked him! He throws one arm up over his face to protect what he feels would have been the best place to shoot. But then he feels bullets dig into his joints and he actually curses, now he's going to have to see a medic.

Frag this and frag organics, he hopes they all drive off a cliff or something. He didn't even do anything.

shows up 15 minutes late with fair trade organic bubble tea

[auramatic]

Drift figured he'd meet Rodimus at Maccadam's, maybe grab a drink himself before they headed back to their place. After all, he's acquired a few new home decorations from an abandoned house here and there. He can't wait to show Rodimus.

Except as soon as he rounds the corner he sees a sight that just about arrests his spark -- Rodimus, barely defending himself as he's fired upon by...a human?

Yeah, that's definitely a human, but Drift doesn't let it give him pause. Whoever she is, she's obviously enough of a threat that she can mount an attack on Rodimus, and while Drift isn't keen on hurting humans either, he's not going to stand around while one fires on his best friend. His spark constricts in his chest at the thought of finding Rodimus the way Rodimus had found him -- battered and broken and bleeding --

Drift doesn't hesitate, just leaps into the fray with both swords drawn, landing square on his feet in between Miranda and Rodimus. He holds up one sword to deflect a few of the shots with the flat of the blade, optics flashing. He'll make sure Rodimus is all right in a second -- once he's had a chance to analyze the threat.

"You might want to back off now, while you still have the chance."

[ancillary]

Shit.

Miranda is gripping onto the fraying threads of her composure and endurance as it was, but the sudden appearance of this overbearing piece of work had her on the ropes, upending any chance she had of getting the upper hand on Rodimus.

Miranda throws up one last barrier when the ricocheting bullets come back at her, but it was too late. Wires along the massive guardrail snap and one of them catches her across the face. Pain spreads from her cheek to her neck; the wound is superficial but enough to make it abundantly clear her biotics were no longer working in her favor.

Already passed the limits of what her bio-amp could channel she was fighting not only the growing desire to drop unconscious on the sidewalk, but blurry vision. Stubbornness and and indomitable will were all that was keeping her standing. She popped the heat sink and slammed in another one in rapid succession and she's back to training her weapon on the both of them.

"You." She said; panting, glaring. "Stand down."

[auramatic]

Drift's optics widen slightly when he sees the wires graze Miranda's face -- but he's still inclined to take her as a serious threat, no matter how small. She looks tired, but she seemed to be more than Rodimus could handle when Drift arrived, too, and while he doesn't advance he doesn't back down, either, still holding his sword at the ready. Miranda might be small, but she's got powers like he's never seen in a human, and the intensity of her gaze speaks for itself. Drift's optics narrow slightly, his other hand going to the sword still holstered at his hip. He looks like he's ready to throw himself in front of a bullet for Rodimus, which, let's be real, he pretty much is.

"If you're asking me to step aside so you can shoot him," Drift says fiercely, "then I don't think so." He shifts his grip on his sword, the blade gleaming in the sunlight. "I'm not interested in hurting you. If you put that gun down, then I'll put away this sword. But let me be perfectly clear -- I'm not going to let you hurt him."

[ancillary]

There was a wide gulf between Drift and Rodimus where reason was concerned. Already, Miranda somewhat distantly realized Drift was an inorganic worth tolerating for such baseline attributes such as selflessness and an almost Shepard-like willingness to take a bullet for someone. Even if that someone meant to impinge on the scientific process and start a firefight because they were an impulsive child.

"He sure as hell better be worth it." At this point her arms were shaking, aching just holding them up. There was a small measure of relief to lower her weapon.

[auramatic]

"More than you know."

Drift doesn't yield, just watching the minute shake of her arms, the way she's struggling to hold them up. But Rodimus is still a pretty big target for her, and that strange aura she commands seems pretty ominous to Drift. She could just be waiting for him to drop his guard.

"I want your word that you won't attack him if I step aside," Drift says, his firm with resolve. "And you have mine that no harm will come to you from us. I think you know I'm telling the truth."

[ancillary]

"No, I don't." She said coolly - she rarely had any reason to trust members of her own species let alone a sanctimonious giant robot. "There will be no further incident and we all go our separate ways. That's it."

Bleeding from a head wound and barely capable of standing up right, she looks between the two of them and then it hits here. Miranda had no idea what she walked in on, or rather what came charging in with swords drawn, but to her it suddenly smacked of walking in some horomon addled teeangers that found somewhere dark and cramped out behind the school gymnasium.

"Right."

Miranda is leaning heavy on the guardrails when she moves to duck back into Maccadam's where she had kept a cache of equipment she could use to patch herself up.

[rodders]

Rodimus watches events unfold almost in a daze, too shocked by Miranda to do much there, and too dazed by Drift to respond to his entrance. Which doesn't go away the longer his confrontation goes on, and the implication of him being worth it both reminds him of things he doesn't want to think about but also how much he cares about Drift, of the warm feeling of relief that spreads through him when he sees Drift come to his defense.

And the relief that floods through him when she doesn't do any of that weird stuff she did with him.

"Drift--" He says, on an exvent as he pulls himself to his feet, still unsteady and sore - yeah, those bullets are going to have to be dug out of his joints.

[auramatic]

Drift reaches down to wrap his hand around Rodimus' arm, to help him to his feet -- and then relief washes over him, too, flooding his tanks cold just to look at Rodimus and see him safe, and Drift pulls Rodimus all the way to his feet in one smooth motion, his other arm slinging low around Rodimus' back to support him, pulling him in against Drift. Something flickers in his optics; the impulse strikes him and, more naturally than he's ever managed before, he simply moves with it. He presses his mouth to Rodimus', optics shuttering closed for a few blissful moments as he kisses Rodimus warmly. He pulls back with optics set to a dim glow, looking surprised at himself but still warm all the same.

"Rodimus," he says falteringly, but he doesn't let go.

[rodders]

He's about to say something - a thanks, with a grin - when suddenly Drift's lips are on his and he can't think of anything beyond this. Warmth spreads through him from where they touch, pulling a small surprised, but pleased sound from him before Drift pulls away and leaves him both colder than he was a second ago but also warmer than he could have possibly imagined. Drift. Kissing Drift! That gets a small laugh, a smile breaking out over his face as he stares at Drift, his own optics wide and bright.

"Hey."

Drift might have started it, but Rodimus isn't going to let this chance go again - one of his arms goes around Drift's shoulders, his hand to the side of Drift's helm so he can bring him in for another kiss. This? This is great. He would like more of this.

[auramatic]

Drift's not usually one to act without thinking about the consequences -- still, he acted without thinking when he kissed Rodimus, and whatever he was expecting...well, he doesn't know what he was expecting. Rodimus reaches up to pull him in for another kiss and Drift lets out a warm sound of surprise agains this mouth, but there's no trace of protest. He just tightens his grip around Rodimus' waist, keeping him as close as he can -- Rodimus' chest flush against his, the empty plane of Rodimus' chestplate strange against Drift's badge. His optics dim further, almost closing, absorbed in the kiss and the warm flutters of light and static it seems to draw from his spark.