smarterthandad: (i'm not doing anything why do you ask)
Valeria Richards ([personal profile] smarterthandad) wrote in [community profile] robothell2015-01-12 11:34 pm

[open] Brainstorm has competition

Who: Valeria and visitors
Where: Her under-construction lab
When: Anytime from about a week after arrival on
What: Tiny supergenius for hire and/or underhanded plotting
Warnings: Val's Prowl-level ethics, idk

Based on what she acknowledged was her incomplete understanding of the Cybertronians' factions and the balance of power as it stood after their war, Val had decided that Optimus Prime asking for her scientific expertise counted as carte blanche to do what she wanted--not that she wouldn't have anyway, but the imprimatur of authority never hurt--which had at first mostly involved browbeating Drift into helping her scout locations, and then move heavy objects even an adult human wouldn't have been able to budge. Now, though, things were finally coming together to the point where she could get some useful work done.

She was rapidly filling up the floor space with remote-controlled equipment to let her manipulate enormous Cybertronian technology without needing to call for help every time, but much of it was still half-built. The spacious catwalk around the edge of the room at convenient Transformer eye height was quite finished, however. Val was used to having to look up at people, but 20 feet or more was a bit much, thanks. She should probably add some antigrav scooters when she got a chance; a room large enough to host even Optimus or Megatron comfortably made for a lot of walking when you were three feet tall. As with so many other things on her to-do list, that would have to wait until more pressing concerns were out of the way.

Like the fact that it didn't seem as though their war was quite as over as they said it was, so in true Cybertronian fashion, she'd focused on weapons. Her own Earth had something to say on that front, and after throwing together a few basic EMP grenades and an x-ray laser (you know, just in case) Val had switched to more interesting designs. Duplicating Iron Man's repulsors with Cybertronian tech had been a snap, though an adequate portable power source was taking time. Obviously it should run on energon, but she didn't fully understand that delightful concoction yet, and for the moment, her new toys were hooked up to a smallish fusion reactor that hummed in the corner behind a symbolic barricade of hazard tape.

The sharp zap of a repulsor blast and the metallic clatter of the makeshift target Val was practicing on were audible from the street, though hearing her giggling about the minor havoc she was causing would require being inside the lab. Not much of a feat--the door was unlocked and she had rigged an enormous "come in, we're open" sign of the sort that hung in the windows of stores on Earth. She found it funny, even if no one else was going to get the joke.
towardspeace: (hmm)

[personal profile] towardspeace 2015-01-13 10:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Megatron simply looks around the makeshift lab for a moment after he steps through the door, his expression somewhere between restrained amusement and equally restrained curiosity. She certainly seems to have made progress since the last time he took a look in here.

"Valeria," he says. "I assume you are keeping yourself busy."
towardspeace: (hmm)

[personal profile] towardspeace 2015-01-17 03:23 pm (UTC)(link)
"Indeed they are not," says Megatron, without much humour – although he still seems curious, perhaps even impressed. He crouches down, taking some care not to step on any of her stuff. "I've found myself similarly ill-equipped to deal with them, actually – I was wondering if you might be able to render some assistance." He'd normally be rather more irritated about being reduced to asking a human for help, but really, he doesn't have much to lose any more – and besides, he likes this one.
towardspeace: (are you fucking kidding me)

[personal profile] towardspeace 2015-01-17 08:34 pm (UTC)(link)
He should have expected that question, he thinks.

"Ratchet doesn't much like me," he says with a wry smile. "With good reason – but I don't think he'd be very inclined to help me, and even if he did I can't imagine he'd be happy about doing it. And besides... I'm curious about what you can do."
Edited 2015-01-17 20:36 (UTC)
towardspeace: (hmmmmmmm)

[personal profile] towardspeace 2015-01-17 10:02 pm (UTC)(link)
"Before I defected to the Autobots I was the leader of the opposing faction in the war," he says, without much hesitation. "And after I defected, one of the conditions of my, ah, freedom, such as it is, is that I have been dosed with a form of energon that drains my strength, to ensure I do not pose a threat in the event my change of spark proves... temporary."

He sounds kind of amused, if wryly so.

"Which was all well and good until we ended up here, and suddenly I actually need to be able to defend myself and my comrades. In theory the effects should wear off in time as long as I'm no longer consuming the poison, but... it would be a slow and unpredictable process."
Edited 2015-01-17 22:02 (UTC)
towardspeace: (hmm)

[personal profile] towardspeace 2015-01-17 11:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Megatron laughs. "I should be able to convince Optimus it's for the best."
sparkwhisperer: (pic#8026473)

[personal profile] sparkwhisperer 2015-01-18 10:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Tarn has been pacing the city for days in search of a Decepticon alliance. As it turns out, to his dismay, this new Cybertron is full of mostly Autobots and traitorous rubbish. His energy is low, his frame is littered with scuffs and scrapes, and he's irritated. He glances at ‘come in, we’re open’ sign but ignores it, figuring he will find more of the same in the relatively fixed up building. That is until he hears a rather powerful sounding blast. He pauses briefly, before doubling back to investigate. If it is an Autobot he would like to know who it is and what weaponry they have hiding in there that would cause such a sound.

Tarn enters slowly, glancing around the makeshift lab. Fairly impressive given what they have to work with here. After a few seconds of investigation he observes that the establishment seems to be strangely empty. But—the blast? Where did it come from, if not here? Tarn loudly clears his throat before taking another step in.



towardspeace: (hmmmmmmm)

[personal profile] towardspeace 2015-01-19 07:10 pm (UTC)(link)
"No, you're right; it needs to be refined before it's fit for consumption." His optics linger on the softly glowing tanks for a moment before he looks back at Val, his expression serious.

"I can answer any questions you might have – but you should be aware that this is a favour that could put you at odds with a number of the Autobots here. You would, of course, have whatever assistance but I can't imagine this would go down well with many of my supposed allies. I wouldn't blame you if you declined."

Megatron isn't traditionally an honesty-is-the-best-policy kind of bot, but hey, he's supposed to be one of the good guys now – and Valeria, tiny organic or not, seems like the kind of person it would probably be best not to mislead.
towardspeace: (excellent work soundwwwait no shit no)

[personal profile] towardspeace 2015-01-19 09:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Megatron nods, an approving and faintly amused smile crossing his face. "Good," he says. "And I'll assume, in turn, that you don't plan on taking the opportunity to sabotage my systems. You have more to gain, after all, from making me an ally."
sparkwhisperer: (Default)

[personal profile] sparkwhisperer 2015-01-19 10:16 pm (UTC)(link)
even as Tarn stares down at the floor he almost doesn't see her. But there she is. a tiny little thing among the lab equipment. Tarn squints, optics brightening in barely suppressed interest, before kneeling and leaning down to better inspect what appears to be the smallest organic that he has ever come across. Upon further examination he finds her to be repulsively fleshy. He makes a sort of sound of disgust.

"What is Primus' name..." He grumbles, hand beginning to reach forward to bring the small organic closer for a better look. How could such a small thing make such a big blast? Or create such an impressive workshop of this size? Surely this is some sort of strange pet and the owner is merely hiding or lurking in an adjacent room.

sparkwhisperer: (Default)

[personal profile] sparkwhisperer 2015-01-20 04:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Tarn grasps her, lifting her like one would a piece of garbage that you don't particularly want to touch. Oh god she is so fleshy. He spins her around, observing from every angle.

"What ever would a creature like you be doing here?" he pokes her in the chest with one of his fingers. She is so small and so squishy.

It would be so easy to just...crush her.
pffft: (pic#7735670)

[personal profile] pffft 2015-01-21 08:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Now here was a sight he'd almost expect from Brainstorm - well, sans the human accommodation of things. Of course, the jet might have been delving a little more into the reality bending area of weaponry by now, but given Val isn't exactly in her element, she could get a pass.

In the end, Prowl is impressed at the set-up, familiar as he was with human adaptability. Taking one look at the target that clattered to the ground, he glances back at the girl who fired the weapon to begin with.

"Testing the quality of your merchandise?"
pffft: (pic#8484851)

[personal profile] pffft 2015-01-22 01:43 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm fairly certain an alternate dimension is out of the jurisdiction of whatever Earth-based justice system decides to take up your case."

Prowl goes down on one knee to get a better look at the repulsor weapon. He was certainly curious of her capabilities after seeing what she managed to set up in a few days time. Perhaps monitoring this human's progress would be more beneficial than he originally thought.

"You certainly don't seem convinced that our war is over."
sparkwhisperer: (Default)

[personal profile] sparkwhisperer 2015-01-23 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Tarn narrows his eyes at her. It is unbelievable how loud such a small creature could be. He is almost tempted to just fling her aside and leave, but he has to know who owns this lab and the rather impressive equipment that it holds.

"Where is your owner, fleshling?"

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