A Little Bit of Tinkering

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Characters: @brainstorm
Location: Near Brainstorm’s Lab
Content Warnings: N/A
Plot Summary: While nervously tinkering with another invention, Mason meets a like-minded individual..

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Mason had a weird two days.

Nearly getting hit by a giant robot car was just the start of it. But now he was back, having undergone the typical “this is a giant secret so don’t talk about it” speech. To say it was making the eleven year old nervous was an understatement, and so he’d decided to spend some time doing what he did best when he was nervous - Mason tinkered.

He didn’t really know what the little bits of metal he was screwing with were gonna be yet. But as a boy who made a two way radio once out of an old motherboard and a broken toaster oven (don’t ask) it could really be anything at this point. Right now however it was a small ball of tiny metal pieces that he was trying to get to bend in a good way as he carefully walked down the hallway.

“I don’t know. Maybe I could make a pencil sharpener,” he talked out loud as he thought. “Nah, come on Mason you can do better than that!” He epxlained, as he kept going. There was no way he was going to make something that stupid at least.

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WHOOM!

Brainstorm stared in surprise at the bit of circuitry and parts that had just...well, exploded. A miniexplosion, but an explosion nonetheless. It wasn't that he hadn't had it happen before (much too often) but...just not with this. He was doing his best to replicate some off the relics that had been secured not so long ago. Like the Polarity Gauntlets. An intriguing idea that had seemed so simple...

Until it exploded.

"Hmph."

Hunching slightly, he walked away from the table in his makeshift lab. According to his chronometer, he had been inside for the past three Earth days. His energon levels were quite low. Which, honestly, he was used to. Processor whirring in thought, the scientist exited his lab and stepped into the hallway.

Maybe I failed to take into account some aspect of the Earth tech I'm using? That's the problem with alien technology-

He hadn't noticed the organic until he heard a voice. Talking about building a pencil sharpener. Aghast, he looked down. A pencil sharpener!? He wasn't sure what a pencil was, but, it sounded absolutely useless.

"You most certainly can!" he said in reaction to the creature's- child's? he wasn't sure- correction that he could do better, "A replication of the Spark Extractor, for instance, would be much more worth your time."

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Mason was only mildly startled by the new voice.

Turning his head silently, he took in the words of the mech. Ok that was cool and all but what was a spark extractor? And he actually thought he could do something with this? Those two things surprised him more than anything else. “Uh not that doesn’t sound cool and all but what’s a spark extractor?” He asked with a little tilt of his head.

As he looked back down at the metal contraption he shook his head. His mind still drew a small blank as to what he could possibly do with it. But that was more his fault than anything. “I mean I had some thoughts. I was thinking about putting together something that would light up my room personally a bit more because it gets pretty dark at night. And I could use a lamp and all,” ‘but I don’t have power’ he answered in his head before giving his bigger excuse, which was also true. “But that’s so boring. Why buy something everyone else has when you can make something new?”

He hesitated a moment before shaking his head, chastising himself for probably boring the mech. “Sorry! I uh sometimes get carried away. My parents said I needed to stop that. Think my “little inventions” are weird. Probably should stop boring you.”

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Brainstorm folded his arms over his chassis, regarding the human child with bright yellow optics. He hadn't interacted with humans much, but, he would behave as he always did.

As the genius he was.

At the child's question, Brainstorm's optics squinted, as though he were smiling beneath his facemask. Oh yes. Someone curious about weaponry. This was a nice change. He waved a hand airily, the one without the briefcase attached to his wrist, of course.

"A relic from before the war. The spark extractor is the only one of its kind that we know of. It was, quite literally, created as a weapon of instant death for a Cybertronian."

He turned slightly more toward the boy, observing the contraption the child held and listening to his response. Ah. That was the question, wasn't it? Why settle for the mundane? Brainstorm's optics glowed more brightly. Could it be that he had found a kindred spirit?

He clapped his hands together loudly.

"Nonsense! Anyone who says that science and building are weird should be tossed out an airlock!" he moved back toward his lab, his newfound excitements causing him to again ignore the low fuel warning on his HUD, "Step into my lab, and we'll see what you can do, hm?"

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Mason nodded his head a little.

That sounded unpleasant admittedly. And the thought of it actually did grab his attention - imagine that something someone could use for that... as a human? Was it even possible to do something like that at such a small size? “Whoa! That sounds sick! So what does it do, blow you guys up front he inside or something?” He asked curiously.

At the thought of his parents being tossed out an air lock he definitely didn’t mind. But Brainstorm was probably the first time that someone had told him his abilities were anything worth noting. His eyes traveled up, and not for the first time, he found himself having to inwardly defend his parents, since well they had drilled things into his head. “Well I mean... My parents say they’re just looking out for me. I was born with this thing we call Autism here on Earth. Makes me a bit different here on Earth,” he then added. “Mom and Dad said it makes me a freak enough.”

He stopped as he mentioned a lab. Wait, an actual lab? “Wait you have a lab? Like an alien lab with all kinds of cool gadgets and stuff? For real?” He asked as he approached Brainstorm suddenly equally excited.

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Brainstorm waved a servo almost dismissively, as though the thought of being blown up from the inside were ludicrous.

"Of course not! It sucks the spark right out of the chassis," he tapped his own chest. Then, he paused, optics widening as he regarded Mason, "Now why didn't I think of that? Brilliant! Blowing the enemy up from the inside.." he muttered to himself for a moment, mentally calculating possible design.

He was pulled from his thinking, though he filed the idea away for later, when the child began talking about his parents. He cocked his head slightly, regarding the human. As soon as 'Autism' was mentioned, Brainstorm internally searched it through the world wide web, processing the information he found at a speed that only a mind like his could. Ah. A disorder accompanied by social stigma.

While Brainstorm had never been under the government's oppression of Cold Constructs, his spark status had earned him a fair amount of scorn. His optics dimmed slightly. He was warborn, yes, an MTO...but that didn't mean he was lesser than. He was a genius! And this child...he reminded Brainstorm of himself in a way.

"A freak? How very unseemly of them..."

Brainstorm was seriously thinking over that bit about the airlock. Fortunately, Mason distracted him.

"Indeed I do!" he all but crowed, allowing the boy's excitement about his lab to push away his negative feelings, "Come in and see! But...maybe don't touch. Some of the weapons are still in a prototype state and are rather...explosive."

The door of his lab opened automatically at the press of a button. It wasn't nearly as impressive as the one on the Lost Light, but, it was a workspace nonetheless. Already, technology and parts of various projects littered almost every available space.

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Mason perked up. Wait he thought that was a cool idea? That was new. Usually he opened his mouth and spouted off an idea and everyone groaned. He really had a feeling he was going to like this guy - he seemed pretty cool and definitely was boosting his confidence. Something that the eleven year old was desperately in need of lately. Given when he left here he’d be going home to an empty home because his parents...

He shook his head, coming out of it when he made the comment about it being unseemly of them to say it. Mason didn’t really understand the word but he supposed it meant mean, cruel, a number of things. “Oh no, no! My parents... They just looked... I mean look after me,” he had to watch his wording lest someone catch on to his situation - a very real fear of his. “They say people wouldn’t understand me or want to. I don’t know, I feel that way sometimes. No one really likes me too much. So they’re probably right - I don’t know. Parents wouldn’t tell you you’re a freak unless you are right?”

It was very clear he was naive to his own abuse. Probably didn’t even realize he was being abused in any way. Even the abandonment in his mind had to have had a reason behind it.

His mind went to the workshop almost at once though. As he stepped in he felt like a kid in a candy store. He’d never seen so much stuff. All the gadgets, and objects both alien and human... His eyes bulged it of his skull. “Oh my god! This is sooooo cool! Look at all this stuff!” He was practically bolting from one end to the other. Totally mesmerized. “And this is all your stuff? Whoa! You must be like a total inventor or something... wow. Do you make all of them yourself? Does someone design them?”

He closed his mouth, realizing he was yaping a million miles per hour.

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Brainstorm's optics narrowed over his mask. He was no rhetorician, but, he was a genius. And he knew the marks of a victim of mental and emotional abuse. The way the boy spoke was that of one who was kept on a tight leash without their realization. He had seen similar tactics used by the Decepticons when they had time to toy with their prey. They made their prisoner dependent, degrading them while reinforcing that the individual needed them to survive. Soon, the victim began to view everything as justifiable to their own continued existence. It was abhorrent.

The scientist followed the child into the lab, watching him keenly as he ran about. Such a spirit for invention...he couldn't help but chuckle, despite his dark mood remaining.

"Indeed it is. Ah, I didn't introduce myself, did I?," he placed one hand on his hip and the other on his chest, optics shuttering dramatically, "I am Brainstorm, resident genius and designer of advanced weaponry...among other things," he folded his arms proudly over his chassis, the briefcase cuffed to his wrist swinging about, "To answer your question: yes, I do design and make them myself. I don't really trust anyone else to do it right."

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Mason noticed the look he was giving him.

Why did he look so angry and concerned? Didn’t what he said made sense? He blushed a bit, but brightened up when the mech introduced himself properly. Brainstorm? That seemed to be a fitting name from what he saw so far honestly. But he was more amazed at all the incredible inventions this mech made. This guy was probably the coolest person Mason had ever met so far, and that was saying something.

Oh wait, he needed to introduce himself too. “Oh uh, sorry. I’m Mason,” he told him. “I mean not as cool a name as Brainstorm, but I guess that’s why I got second.” He laughed, then adding. “Bro, what’s your favorite thing you ever made? You have to have like a billion inventions in here alone. Can you even narrow it down? I kinda can... I made this like, natural energy converter thing for my science fair a couple of months ago. I actually won it too!”

He looked off to the side, his face falling a bit. Trying not to remind himself that was also the last time he actually saw his parents. He was supposed to be keeping quiet after all. Who knew if anyone here would turn him in! And that would suck. “I haven’t made a lot since then, really. We uh, fell on some hard times so I had to use my time making sure I eat and stuff. Otherwise I’d probably not actually do it,” he explained. “I’m not really that good at cooking so I have to go out and find food and...”

He bit down on his lip. There he went, talking too much again. “Anyways, you wanted to see what I could do?”