[closed] Iron Mom

[smarterthandad]

Who: Val & June
Where: Val's lab
When: Now-ish
What: The obvious and not-at-all overkill solution to humans getting hurt is to build them power armor.
Warnings: Val's terrible fashion sense and life choices?

Val had been working on armor for June in fits and starts since they'd met, but it had been slow going, what with all the other projects demanding her time and the need to make practically everything from salvaged components designed for an entirely different species. Not that it was outside her capabilities, of course, but she would never take access to Dad and Uncle Doom's facilities for granted again.

The tribulations of a tiny latter-day Crusoe notwithstanding, the gear was finally ready to be fitted for its intended wearer, so Val had called June and left a message for her to come by "whenever." Val could be remarkably vague for a scientist...especially considering she hadn't told June what she'd been up to, though the obnoxiously-colored armor pieces arrayed on a workbench would alert the careful observer. Not knowing June's favorite palette, Val had matched the colors to her scrubs, with contrasting details in pink. When in doubt, Val would always choose pink.

Comments

[milkruns]

June guessed from Val's cavalier tone that whatever she wants or needs isn't urgent; then again, Val is quite unlike any child June's ever met, and beyond that, seems to have an uncomfortable disregard for danger for a three-year-old. June's only got the one patient right now anyway, so she heads on over to Val's lab in short order, poking her head in before sidling in bodily.

"Val," June greets her, pleased at having the opportunity to talk to someone she doesn't have to crane her neck back to look at. She glances at the pieces of armor laid out on the workbench, a light not of recognition in her eyes, but the look of someone who's just starting to cotton on to the way someone like Val thinks. "What's all this? Is that why you called me?"

[smarterthandad]

Given her family's profession and long list of enemies, Val's baseline for "dangerous" was set disturbingly high. Besides, she was three and every small child thought they were immortal, anyway.

Behind her goggles, Val's eyes changed focus from the lines of data scrolling across the lenses to June's face, the readout clearing as she did so except for the inset in the corner reading out June's vitals, and crosshairs over her head and heart.

Oops, left the targeting system on.

Val blinked and pushed the goggles up to rest on her forehead. "Yeah. I made you a set of armor. It's nothing special, but you have no powers and there are enough bad actors here that giving you a force field generator and flight capability seemed like a good idea."

Apparently flying power armor counted as "nothing special" to Val.

[milkruns]

June is generally opposed to violence as a matter of course, but spend enough time around Cybertronians and you start to acclimate to a certain level of... Well. It's not as though what Val is proposing is violence, anyway. No guns or anything, as far as she can tell. Just a certain means of self-defense, which June is pretty grateful for. She's been relying on the good grace of the likes of Trailcutter and Optimus not to get stepped on, but considering Cybertronians' general track record it's probably not a sustainable solution.

"Powers. Right," June murmurs thoughtfully as she approaches the set of armor, reaching out to run a hand over the finish. This is the stuff of Jack's video games, she's pretty sure, but then again, so is all of this. She quirks a smile at the colors. Thoughtful of Val. "This is incredible, Val. How long would it take to learn how to use it?"

[smarterthandad]

Haha 'no guns.' Sure, June.

"Depends." Val hopped off her stool and came over to where June was standing near the arrayed pieces of armor. "The HUD tracks your eyes so there's a bit of a learning curve on that, but I made all the gestural controls responsive to instinctive reactions--if your heart rate spikes and you raise an arm to shield your head, it'll put up a force field. That kinda thing."

She picked up a soft silvery something that sat next to the armor and offered it to June. "If you want it to work right you have to wear the control suit, though. Like mine, except I had to adapt the design to local materials."

Val's own skintight one-piece was black with glowing green lines that made her look like she fell out of the Tron sequel. When June shakes out the folds of her own suit, however, she will find what strongly resembles a silver lamé catsuit straight out of a 50s B movie--in an alternate 20th century that didn't feature the Hays Code. It won't be leaving much to the imagination.

[milkruns]

"Oh! That sounds useful." June's long since started taking Val's toddler genius in stride, but it's nice to know she's a thoughtful little girl too. She takes the control suit from Val to shake it out for examination. "I don't know if I'm qualified to work a bunch of complicated flight controls, but a control suit sounds a lot -- "

June's eyebrows shoot up in politely stifled surprise, her lips pursed. Silver lame catsuit indeed. She probably ought to have known better. The general design works just fine on a three-year-old, but on a woman pushing forty? June considers it a relief that with the full coverage of the power armor, no one will even ever see her in this thing. Probably.

"...Nicer," she finishes, somewhat faintly.