A weekend night. Staying overtime at the office. There were as many bots for the night crew as the day crew. Somehow the night crew was quieter, less vocal while working. Cliffjumper found it creepily relaxing. Like he was alone, but there were so many other bots here. He'd have to do this more.

Its foggy out today. It may rain.

Teaching orphans about cyberbullying seemed worthless since they didn't have anything to be cyberbullied with. The city deemed giving orphanages web-accessible data pads "unnecessary," only donating pre-approved reading pads. However, it was mandatory to participate in. Even as Cliffjumper read-

Ooc: cliffjumper in a red hoodie~

He didn't need it. Primus knew he didn't need it. But the garment called to him. Cliff was in the city with some other coworkers, on their way to the closest, cheapest bar to drink away the hardship of the day, when the piece of fabric caught his optic. -

Cliffjumper worked quietly at his desk. In on audio he had Latin American music playing on low. The culture had become somewhat of an obsession? No, that wasn't the word. It was just something in his spark that truly latched on to that earthling community. He couldn't understand what it was about-

Cliffjumper arrived to the City Hall without much of an issue, Why would he. Walking in wasn't part that put him on pause. It was the fact of how empty it was past the main floor. As he stated hitting the lower levels of the building, his platting began to crawl. Normally there would be at the-

Cliffjumper read the recommendation. He then looked through the data pads on his desk. Nothing about Central Hall. He got up from his desk, walking over to the cluster of desks of agents and primes that worked exclusively on city hall and council surveillance. They gave him their most-

OOC: No life updates, but Cliffjumper believes New Kaon is pretty. But like in a 'Post-Depression Mining Town' kind of way, where it was rebuilt on the surviving strong structures to preserve culture, but had a modern twist to it.

Cliffjumper drank his morning energon cube, watching the morning Cybertronian news before he left for his shift. Yadda yadda yadda. A lot of information he already knew. Then there was an interview with Alpha Trion. Cliff rolled his optics. Though the elder senator was typically quiet during-

Back to the office. Back to the grind.

...what

Cliffjumper closed the app with a huff. Seemed like no one could give him an answer. Reaching out was pointless.

How does an organic make a Cybertronian sparkling?

Breaking up the gladiator ring was going to be a lot harder than Cliffjumper had originally thought. They had all the proof of the illegal activity. They had witness statements. They had the information... well, almost all. Due to the clause of what classified the gladiator pits, the new-

Trip off to New Kaon for the next 3 days. There was word of the gladiator pits returning to the area. However, the 'gladiators' were sparklings, specifically the ones from the Iacon orphanages. With the promise of a bed of their own, decent food, and a fund of their own, Cliffjumper-

Organic propaganda? It's not the first time it's happened. It's one of the reasons the great expansion was stopped before. Other planets with sentient life would always be an issue. -

Cliffjumper choked on his drink, coughing and hacking. The drink fell to his lap as he read, then reread the post. "That can't be... SENTINEL HAD SPARKLINGS!?!?!" "FRAG! FRAG! FRAG!" The agent made haste in blocking the whole thread from the Cybertronian populace. It was one thing to beef with-

New sparklings!?!? On Earth!?!?!? He hasn't seen any sparklings that weren't the ones that lived at the multiple orphanages on the outskirts of Iacon and the few in Kaon. Cliffjumper only really knew of Wheelie. Blurr talked about the orange one quite verbosely when enough high-grade was in him.-

[Cliff couldn't help his curiosity to dive a bit further into some of the earthing media. A lot of repetitive substance, really. But for some unknown reason, Spanish telenovelas just piqued his interest, in a very 'this is my new obsession' kind of way. -

[He had been seeing something go around the web, calling this month "Pride Month"? He thought the humans called it June... wait no, it was a celebration for a whole month. Why did the organics need so many celebrations? It's like every cycle was a celebration of SOMETHING SOMEWHERE. Cliff couldn't-

Cliffjumper fell face first onto his couch, back home at his hab after a LOOOONG day. Catching a small group of "freedom fighters" that tried to break a prisoner from the Trypticon prison for "wrongful imprisonment of a warframe" led to ties with the underground kingpin, Twistline. -

Documents, complaints, proposals, investigations, reports. Cliffjumper saw almost everything on his desk. He had just received five reports on the new Housing Initiative, mostly complaints, which he wasn't too surprised about. -

So, Insecticons were on Earth and thriving. Cliffjumper had only thought them a myth until recently: the infestation of the planet's core. Eating anything and everything in their way like the mindless beasts they were. Disgusting, thick-armored, multi-limbed freaks... Well, at least that's-

A new day, another shax in the bank. He sat at his desk, looking at the new pile-up of datapads. He swore it had somehow doubled. Sipping his morning energon, the first thing he did was check Bsky. He sighed, thankful that the Earthbots had calmed down. He browsed through profiles, some concerning,-

Cliffjumper had not found any amusement using the new app he had installed. But it was the fastest way to stay in communication and observation of their departed Magnus. The communications from the Earth's web to Cybertron always seemed hours behind the occurrence or post. So updates were...-