audio;

[paintjobs]

I am having a serious crisis, and I need help. Hopefully a network full of heroes can provide some kind of relief to a desperate spark in need.

[ oh, sure, he's heard of things like... explosions, death, political debates, and benefits being cut (that's super annoying, actually), but really, there's just one Most Important matter at hand: ]

I think they've stopped making my favorite kind of hair gel. I can't find it anywhere, and trust me, I've checked every store. Shouldn't there be -- I don't know, warehouses full of it somewhere out there? Isn't that how these things work? It doesn't matter -- I need more of it, pronto! Do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep looking as good as I do without hair gel?!

There'll be some kind of reward in it for you if you can help me out, I'll figure that out later -- just give me a hand here, someone!

Comments

[smarterthandad]

[Val's totally watching on the security cameras. Later she's going to replay that transformation sequence in slo-mo a few dozen times.

The holographic receptionist starts to answer, and then winks out of existence to be replaced with a hologram of Valeria. It's life-size, meaning her goggle-bedecked head doesn't stick far above the desk.]

I'll be right down.

[And then the Val-ogram also disappears, leaving Knock Out alone in the lobby until the pitter-patter of little feet becomes audible around a corner, and Valeria trots into view, still wearing her goggles and a toddler-sized white lab coat.]

Hi.

[paintjobs]

[ He assumed the hologram of Val had glitched, or something, and looks a little surprised to see that, no, she really is just that short. He stares a moment, head cocked. ]

You're smaller than I expected. [ Not that it sounds critical. ] Doesn't that mean you're young? I'd guess you're hardly even twenty years old.

[ or something. he hasn't gotten the hang of human aging yet. ]

[smarterthandad]

[She studies him right back, craning her neck to see all the way up to his face.]

I'm three. I won't reach my adult height for at least a decade.

[The fact that he's one of the giant space robots makes the wildly wrong guess understandable, and it's not like Val doesn't end up answering that question for every human she meets, too.]

[paintjobs]

Three? Three what. [ wait. ] Years? [ he looks a little startled at the thought ] My tires are older than that!

[smarterthandad]

You should probably let me check the tread depth while we're here, then. I can fab you some new ones if you need them.

[That's like a robot mani/pedi, right?]

[paintjobs]

[ he looks about ready to argue it — but pauses. actually. that doesn't sound so bad.

(it totally is a robot mani/pedi.) ]

...I wouldn't say no. But I will point out that while I may look of Earth-origin, I'm assuredly not. My tires are made from sterner stuff than the tires on Earth automobiles.

[smarterthandad]

Yeah, you're Cybertronian.

[She knows this because she's all over the network like a tiny little creeper. Also because he transformed in the driveway.]

Come on, let's go analyze your hair stuff.

[Without waiting for agreement, she turns and heads deeper into the building, where the labs are.]

[paintjobs]

[ Oh good, she's heard, that will make his inevitable bragging much easier. He follows amiably, actually pretty pleased with the way things are going.

But he can't help, as they walk: ] You don't seem like other incredibly young organics. What's different in your programming? Or... genes, whatever.

[smarterthandad]

[Poor Knock Out, destined to be unable to impress the small child.]

I'm an extreme statistical outlier in intelligence. It's genetic on my father's side.

[At the first set of security doors, she taps in a 4-digit code on the pad, and there's a clunk as the lock releases.]

Don't bother memorizing that. I'm going to change it after you leave.

[paintjobs]

[ He'd really only been watching out of habitual nosiness (and the usual Decepticon wariness, of course), but jolts a little at that. Oh. Huh. Well fine. ]

Don't worry; I have a lab of my own, I won't be needing to sneak into yours any time soon.

[smarterthandad]

[It's what Val would do, so she thinks she's being courteous by removing the necessity of paying attention.]

Just saying.

[She leads them through a few more turns and into a well-stocked chemistry lab, so new that some of the equipment still has protective stickers on it or panels taped shut for shipping.]

Okay, let's do this.

[She holds out her hand for the hair gel bottle.]

[paintjobs]

[ He glances around with a suspicious interest and the general Lab Stuff. Really, it looks a lot like his own. Which means, in his case, relatively new and put together by someone else.

His eyes fall on Val again, and with a mistrustful frown, he hands over the empty canister. Empty for usage, though of course there's plenty of samples to be had from it. ]

Knock yourself out. [ He can't not say that without a tiny smirk, it would just be impossible. ]

[smarterthandad]

[Eyeroll. That was a dumb joke and Knock Out should feel dumb.]

Mass spectrometer first, then we'll toss it in the AFM [atomic force microscope] and see if we're looking at any weird nanostructures.

[She starts doing what she said she was going to do, displaying a dexterity and skill that it's fair to call unnerving in a child of her age.

While the microscope is booting up, Val sighs, propping her chin on one hand and ignoring the mass spectrometer data she's holding in the other.]

I hate being stuck with this lousy equipment.