The Diego Diaries: Strategy 5 (dd3 434)
NOTE: Mistermaster is modeled on a cartoon character named Pepe Le Pew. Google it. Find out why he is one of the greatest cartoon characters of all time. :D
-0-Night time in the city
They walked along the street heading for the clubs after a gathering of the Iacon Order. It had been fun and enlightening, their leadership going over the ideals and regulations with these, the young future of their hopes and dreams. They were the sons of privilege and the ones to whom the adults dedicated themselves.
Out of a city of two and a half million individuals there were over 5,500 members of the Order thus far. Most of them were reconnecting with friends, finding company in the group for themselves. Others joined to promote the goals and aims of their leadership, the re-institution of The System in their own future township in the Valles. They would be able to live their 'Peculiar Institution' without mixing with other castes.
They walked along the street heading for Club Cybertron for the dancing and drinking that place was fabled for. On Cybertron, it'd been a hangout for the younger high castes that were up and coming professionals in government and industry as well as communications and other levels of control that their particular set were privy to.
Even though the club was a haven for low lifes and soldiers, they came anyway. Many were the youngling high castes who were danger junkies.
It was getting dark and the streets were crowded as shift changed and others were out for fun or dinner as well. Season Two of Transformers Prime was showing at the three movie theaters in the colony and the lines were long to see the series as it played in five episode segments at a time.
It was a very popular and much discussed topic of conversation in the city.
They reached the club, a group of seven high caste younglings who worked on the peripheries of power, a fact they didn't appreciate. Pausing in the doorway, they saw that the place was packed with individuals of all castes as well as soldiers, youngling civilian bachelors and young bonds. They entered and found a table along the back wall. They sat and waited to order. As they did they took stock of the crowd.
Several of them began to talk about the 'talent' sitting here and there, who was 'faceable and who wasn't. They began to assess the individuals they knew and their roles in the work life of the city. Some of them were low castes who held positions of authority and responsibility above them.
Sitting at a table talking to her bond, Dagger, a former Decepticon, Blondi chatted happily. She was sparked. She was Ultra Magnus's right processor lobe and deeply beloved in The City.
She got assessed and found to be 'faceable. So did half the mechs in the room. Most of them weren't listening and didn't hear the mostly internal conversation of the seven high castes. They were busy having fun, eating dinner, drinking and hanging with friends. The dance floor seethed with mechs. Among them, Smokey of Praxus and other parts out there around the galaxy. Nearby were mini-cons, Wreckers, club hopping civilians having a great time and Hot Rod.
Smokey sat at a table with youngling mechs sipping high grade, talking about this and that as he celebrated receiving the tattoos of the Night/Day Watch and reassignment to Drift and Springer's shift. He had a night off and was celebrating with friends. As he did, Mistermaster appeared in the doorway.
He looked the room over for new talent, then saw the youngling mech who'd been his prey the night before. Grinning, he started forward just as the music came up and the dance floor bloomed into gyrating half drunk mechanisms swallowing him up completely.
"Did you just see Mistermaster?" a high caste youngling said.
"I did. He's your uncle isn't he?" another asked.
"He is," that youngling said rising to find him. He stepped around the table and waded into the mob searching for the amiable narcissist that was his atar's brother. Gripping his arm, the youngling towed the suave still sober and all around bon vivant would-be Casanova back to where he sat with his friends. They both settled smirking at each other.
"You made it," Haro-n said as he sat back grinning at his uncle. "I heard you got picked up last night by the Night Watch."
"A big misunderstanding. I assure you," he said with his usual aplomb. "I was merely chasing prey. A very handsome young mech that I'm sorely desiring," Mistermaster said glancing around. He paused his gaze, then grinned. "There. That one."
They all followed the line of sight of the older mech and found themselves staring at a youngling mech who was handsome as could be animatedly talking to several other youngling mechs nearby. "Him?" Haro-n asked with surprise. "He's low caste."
Mistermaster for his part gazed at his nephew pityingly. "You need to get out more. That's one fine youngling mech."
"If you say so," Haro-n said. "We didn't see you at the gathering."
"I was hunting prey. You know I have my priorities," Mistermaster said with a grin.
"Fenix won't like it. You need to keep yourself together. We're trying to do something here, Uncle," Haro-n said with great disapproval.
"Yes, yes, yes," Mistermaster said with a grin. "Excuse me, boys," he said rising to go. He slipped around the table before anyone could react heading for the younglings sitting nearby. Pausing at their table with his best smile, he nodded to the mechs sitting there.
Smokey looked up and blinked with surprise.
"Hello," Mistermaster said with his smoothest tone. "How about a dance? I think last night I had too much to drink and I want to make it up."
Smokey looked at him with gathering angst, a bad choice on a night when he was depressed. Glancing at the others, he sat back and began to demure. "Uh, that's alright. No harm, no foul. I'm sure there's plenty of mechs in the room that would just love to hang out with ya," Smokey said.
Mistermaster gripped Smokey's arm and hauled him to his feet. "Well then, let's do this." He half dragged the kid with him to the dance floor disappearing into the mass of writhing mechanoids, leaving a snickering group of friends behind including Lon and Jolt.
"Poor Smokey," Jolt said with a chuckle. "That tool is going to try and frag him if its the last thing he does. I was in here last night when that old mech found him."
"What happened?" a youngling mech who was a fellow SAHWTTF ... student-against-his-will-thanks-to-family … asked with a grin.
"That old mech came up to the bar and tried to pick Smokey up," Jolt said with a grin as he watched Mistermaster try to grope Smokey in the mob. He glanced at the others. "I think the only reason Smokey didn't drop that mech on his aft was because of him."
They glanced the direction that Jolt was looking and grinned. Sitting nearby with a number of older mechs, Hot Rod was knocking back high grade. His optics never left Smokey.
They all grinned.
"So … Roddy is after Smokey?" a Wrecker asked with a grin.
Jolt nodded. "He's got it bad but Dev and Smokescreen aren't having it."
"There's not much they can do if Smokey wants it," the Wrecker replied.
"Smokescreen is Praxian," Jolt replied with a big grin.
They looked at him, then Roddy, then Smokey. Smirking slightly, the Wrecker shook his helm. "Roddy is fragged."
"Why?" Lon asked with confusion. They explained, then all turned in their chairs to watch Smokey who was barely able to fight Mistermaster off. "Poor Hot Rod." He grinned slightly. "Poor old fragger if Smokescreen or Devcon walk in."
They all nodded. Then they sat back to watch the fun.
Another table was watching, too, a table filled with embarrassed high castes. One of them shifted slightly. "Your uncle is acting like an aft, Hari."
"My uncle always had a weakness for younger mechanisms. My atar could club him sometimes." Haro-n sat back with a sigh. "I could, too."
"We could grab him. He's really making a spectacle of himself. He's so grabby. I almost feel sorry for that mech," another said.
"Don't," another mech, Sio said. "What bothers me is your uncle being stupid, not the mech. Who cares about him?"
Sitting at a table next to them several mini-cons couldn't help but hear the commentary coming from the high caste table. Civilians who had suffered under the regime during the Clampdown, their tolerance of high castes was in the negative numbers. That group sat quietly steaming, their drinks gripped tightly in their servos.
As they sat fuming together, the music ended and the dancers began to return to their seats.
Smokey caught in the grip of Mistermaster and his rather comical patter struggled to disengage. Then the music returned. As it did several more individuals came through the door and glancing around the room for friends. They spotted them, then moved through the morass heading to the table where they sat. Pulling out chairs, they settled with grins.
"You look like slag," Sunstreaker said to Hot Rod who was sitting with a dark cloud over his helm. "What's up?"
"I think its Smokey," Sideswipe said as he scanned the dance floor. "He and some old geek."
Bluestreak who knew the whole story patted Hot Rod's arm. "Ignore them. We came for fun and dancing. RIGHT!?" Blue shot lazer optics at the twins who sat back grinning at the handsome winger.
"You look sexy when you do that, Blue. Just saying," Sideswipe said with a grin.
Blue rolled his optics, then turned to do what he did best. Defuse a sad and make a glad. He began to engage the table in chat. They engaged because no one was ever known to be born that didn't love Bluestreak.
Yet.
-0-In the bosom of love
"So … what's the forecast of the new op?" Ratchet asked as Ironhide sat down in his chair next to him.
"We're making a plan to hit eight bases so far. We intend to test Soundwave, too, his resolve and willingness to present a defense. Prime's of the opinion that he'll either put one up and it won't be very effective or he'll want to talk and make one of his famous alliance attempts."
"Either is a win for us," Ratchet said. The television presented The Wire so he put the sound up. "Guess what's on, Only One. That show you like."
"It is," Ironhide said with a grin. "I suppose we have to barter about that one you like."
"I don't know. What do you think?" Ratchet asked with a grin. The Wire coincided with Haven, a show that was so wild and strange that it fascinated Ratchet. They'd barter. Ironhide would watch The Wire in return for a really good frag and Ratchet would download Haven into his data files for later viewing.
A win-win for both. As if they didn't already know it.
-0-Smokey
/... frag … how do I get out of this without punching this mech's face? …/ (Gyrating against his will in a flash mob of half slag faced mechanisms … isn't aware in the least of how sexy he is …/
-0-Mistermaster
/... slag … this is one sexy mechanism … I think he likes me … guess who's getting laid tonight! …/
-0-Knockout,nearby
"Look at that old geezer," he said nodding to Mistermaster who was even in that mob a standout and not in a good way.
"I see. Looks like Smokey's going to have to punch him. I would've by now," Breakout said with a smirk. They were sitting together celebrating their 'several decaorns of being out of the prison and trusted by the colony anniversary'.
They had a comfortable niche. Both worked at the hospital in jobs that were becoming more complex and interesting. They had the same shift … swing. They had the same time off … now. They had no idea that Ratchet personally made it so. They had a nice place to live, time, luxury at last and Breakdown was one ferocious top.
Knockout: "OOO-LA LA, BABY!"
Where were we? Oh yes. Smokey's grandgenitors.
"Devcon will slag him to The Pit," Breakdown said with a smirk.
"I want to be there," Knockout said with a smirk of his own. "Why don't we make that possible?"
"Are you going to call him?" Breakdown asked with incredulity.
"Why not?" Knockout said with a grin. So he did.
-0-Blue aka The Babe
He sat on Sideswipe's lap nursing his drink, the conversation going along just fine. Out of the corner of his optic he watched as Smokey finally made it back to his table with the older mech in tow. That one was relentless and it was riveting to watch. What he hoped was that it didn't erupt into fighting.
It was a forlorn hope but he had it.
-0-TBC September 16, 2013 7-30-19
JUST IN CASE YOU MISSED IT TOPSIDE: NOTE: Mistermaster is modeled on a cartoon character named Pepe Le Pew. Google it. Find out why he's one of the greatest cartoon characters of all time. :D