2016-07-22 Working Late

From Transformers: Lost and Found

Working Late
Date 2016/07/22
Location Lost Light: Engineering -- Machine Shop
Participants Blackstorm, Perceptor
Summary Blackstorm needs some help, Perceptor gives advice.

The rich scent of spilled oil and brushed dust filter through the air of this industrious complex, a workshop dedicated to the material construction required to keep a ship operational. This is the Machine Shop, an open space with the only walls being the four that define it. This is were tools can be fashioned, parts milled and crude elements refined in a more basic, freer space than a more delicate laboratory. Like peeking behind the curtain of a theatrical play, this is the shop space where walls can be built or smaller vehicles clobbered together.

Along the far wall is a rolling assembly line style work bench, above which are various shelves of tubing, blocks and girders. Off the entrance, both side walls are decorated with all manner of machinery and crafting tools. Stacks of raw materials are kept out of the central floor space and there are bins on either side of the entrance for recyclable spare parts. The room is well lit and there is a constant background hum of the ventilation system, which doesn't do much for that oil and soot smell.

The table in front of Blackstorm is spread thick with schematics. None of them are mathematically correct, or even horribly accurate, but seem to work for the pilot well enough. When refurbishing his shuttle, he uses his own methods and flare (and, thankfully, is not accountable to anyone else). He is pondering over these when someone steps into the room. Perched on the table, Blackstorm tears his gaze away from the datapads to wave to them. With his other hand, he is moving to hide the more incriminating datapads at the bottom of his pile. He doesn't want some of those to be seen.

"Perceptor, right? You're working late," he remarks with a bemused smirk.

Given the hour, finding someone else in the machine shop isn't what Perceptor had expected. Of course, he doesn't come down here often, so what would he know about the shop's frequent visitors. Besides usage logs, of course. The idea that he's working late gets a small, bemused twitch of his scope, a quiet whirr. His hours aren't very typical, but it's hardly late. "I suppose." He hums, heading for the storage shelves. "You are not part of my division."

"Nope! Navigation, but I do have hobbies," he responds. When Perceptor moves across the room, the pilot is completely distracted from his diagrams. People are much more interesting than sketches. Blackstorm is also terrible at hiding his interest, as he leans back over the edge of the table until his head is dangling over it upside down. Just so he can keep Perceptor in sight.

"Better that way, yeah? I don't have to salute you and call you sir most of the time. Though I guess I can do that if that's your thing." Look at that completely innocent smile. Nothing untoward here. "Speaking of your division, though, know anyone I can consult with on engines? Above my pay grade, that."

Two is a coincidence, but if this drifts into three navigation mecha spending all their time in and around his department, the trend will bear investigation. It's entirely likely they're coming for the personality, anyway. "You give my division entirely too much credit." He can't remember the last time someone called him sir.

rPerceptor tilts his head to the side, arms crossing over his chest. "While I would offer my own services, Nautica has far more knowledge in the field. If she is unavailable, Wheeljack is something of a jack-of-all-trades, and would likely be capable of aiding."

Wheeljack is a no-go, as Blackstorm is too friendly with him. He wants someone who won't ask too many question, hopefully, so this 'Nautica' will have to do. Hopefully, they will not be too curious about why he's asking about such non-traditional alterations to an engine. But with the nature of his shuttle, the mechanics have to be a little different to function properly. The frame of a deceased lunabot is constructed and laid out differently than that a normal shuttle and accommodations had to be made.

While still tilted over the edge of the table, Blackstorm quirks an optic ridge. "Too much credit? Not sure what you mean by that. Beside the point, I'll drop in on this Nautica person. Maybe they can help me figure this mess out."

He gestures towards the precarious pile of datapads with his pede. "Since I ain't having any luck with that myself. Almost wish I did know a bit more about engineering so I could, though."

"She's the ship's foremost expert in her chosen field." Perceptor assures, tapping his fingers on his arm. "As I understand, the library has plenty of informative reading material should you wish to build the foundations of knowledge for a new skill." There's nothing wrong with encouraging mecha to seek out new knowledge, especially if they've expressed a wish to learn further on the subject.

Blackstorm purses his lip components at the mention of 'reading.' While he is capable of it, it is not easy. He would spend more time trying to puzzle out how to pronounce long words than actually learning anything. "... Eh, I learn better from experience, anyways," he responds, finally sitting up from his awkward position.

"I'm sure rebuilding my shuttle's engine will teach me more then those books ever could, yeah? With a little help and all." He offers a teasing smile and a chuckle. "What's a couple exploding engines in the name of learning, anyways?"

That gets a small nod. While Perceptor has no trouble learning through every means available, he's aware not everyone is as capable. "Then I'm sure you will gain valuable knowledge in the process." De-magnetizing a datapad from his hip, the scientist returns to his intended task. "Do you require any more questions answered?"

The minibot's gaze locks on Perceptor pulling the datapad from his hip, giving a low whistle. That is a handy trick (and those are nice hips, but that is beside the point). Before long, Blackstorm is clambering down from the table to get a better look. "Yeah, one more. Did you come up with that trick yourself? I've never seen anyone carry things that way," he remarks.

"One thing organics were smart about, the invention of pockets that don't require complex tech to function."

Perceptor tilts his head in Blackstorm's direction, finding himself looking far further down at the mech than he'd anticipated. "Yes." He prefers having things on-hand, rather than relying on tech that could malfunction. Magnets serve the purpose well enough, it's not some fantastic feat of engineering to modify a datapad, or his own hip kibble. Normally, he'd be skeptical of anyone not knowing his proficiency, but Blackstorm's a Decepticon. "Shall I assume that has sated your curiosity?"

Blackstorm holds out his hand towards Perceptor, optics burning with curiosity behind his visor. "No, no it hasn't. Can I look at it?" he presses. The minibot literally jumps and makes a grabbing motioning to reveal just how badly he wants to get his hands on Perceptor's datapad.

Perceptor raises the datapad higher when Blackstorm jumps for it, arching an optical ridge. After a moment of looking down at the minibot, he flips the pad over to detach the back, fingertips whirring quietly. Once done, a flat square of dark metal is held out for view - not to take. "It has a compartment to house a magnet, nothing complex."

<FS3> Blackstorm rolls Climbing: Failure. (1 4 3 4 1)

When Perceptor pulls it out of reach, Blackstorm gives a rare frown. Within moments he is scrambling back up the table he had climbed down from only moments ago. Once he reaches the top, his optics are still locked longingly on the small square. He was hoping the table would put him within reach, but luck is not with him today. He gives one more half-hearted grab and then falls back on the table with a quiet huff.

"Eh, doesn't have to be complicated to be a cool idea. I need to try that on some of my tools or something. Keep 'em in easy reach and stuff."

Another little tilt of the head, this time considering. Whatever Perceptor's thinking, it's vocalized in a noncommittal hum while he returns the magnet to the datapad, securing the cover back into place. "It's a simple modification, you'd likely be capable of reproducing it."

"Likely? I would hope so. I know something about magnetism," he jokes, offering up another smug smile. Probably not the same magnetism Perceptor is talking about, though. The minibot sits back up and turns to face his stack of datapads; while he hasn't quite sated his curiosity, he knows he's not going to get a hold of Perceptor's little trinket any time soon. No reason to make him stand around any longer.

"Thanks for answering my questions, mecha. It's good to have somewhere to look. And nice to meet you, too, might I say. Very nice."

But damn, those hips.

"You are welcome." Perceptor inclines his head toward the mech then turns to finally accomplish what he came here to do before getting a bit derailed. There's no reciprocation of Blackstorm's sentiment, though. Just a little wave while he strides to the opposite side of the machine shop.

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