Doin An Engineering

== Big Base Engineering Bay, February 11 == 
Inge walks over to Mel’s lab uncharacteristically hesitantly. GAIA had told him that this was the best place to get any kind of technological upgrade, but he was still nervous about just knocking on some guy he’d never met’s door and asking for a wheelchair. That said, GAIA would never lie to him, right? Right? 
Deep in his musings, he doesn’t realize that he’s arrived at Mel’s…lair? Lab? Room? Until he nearly slams face first into the door. He finds himself once again thankful for his crutches giving him a bit of warning about what’s coming when he’s lost in thought. It really is a pity they reduce his mobility to a damaging degree when doing superheroics, especially since he doesn’t really like the restrictiveness of wheelchairs. Still, Inge would gladly sacrifice his pride for the good of his teammates. He shudders at the mental image of Ms. Sabine in that whirlwind of flame. That can never happen again. 
He steels himself, balances on his left crutch, and raises a hand to knock.
"I'm just saying, Wingnut. What if the microwave didn't need limits? Imagine the possibili--whozzat?" Mel whips his head around at the sound of a knock on the door. He reaches out an arm towards it, realizes he's not wearing his costume, makes a face, and reluctantly gets out of his seat. The engineering bay was usually pretty quiet, these days - Epoch had moved into his own lab, and these days Mel defaulted more to his workbench in Smoke's base than the bay here. Smoke was the only one who came by with any regularity, and he wouldn't wait to be let in after he knocked.
"Hey," he says as he hits the button to open the door. "Wha--uh." He stops short at the sight of the stranger in the doorway. "Um. Hi? Can I help you? Are you lost?"
“Um, no. I am not lost. I am Inge, and I am new here. GAIA is telling me this is where I am supposed to be going if I am needing any tech? However, you are not seeming like a professional adult mechanic, which I am saying not to minimize your talents but because I am not wanting to be taking up your time if it is not your job to be taking and filling requests from strangers, which, um, I am not thinking this is your job?”
She sighs, and slumps a little. “I am apologizing for the rambling, and for the interruption. I can be leaving now, and finding a suitable wheelchair elsewhere.”
Mel blinks. "Um. Well, no, I'm not an adult professional mechanic--I mean, technically I'm an adult. I'm eighteen. And I am a mechanic. But I'm not a professional anything, except a menace, according to Atlanta." He runs a hand through his hair, heedless of the grease on it. "Sorry, uh--you said you were new? New to Big Team? I'll build stuff for Big Team. Uh, come on in."
He steps aside to allow Inge into the engineering bay, returning to his workbench where Wingnut waits. "You said you need a wheelchair? I've never built a wheelchair, but I can figure that out. Oh--uh, I'm Mel, by the way." He sticks out a hand to Inge, hastily wipes the grease off his fingers onto his jeans, and sticks it out again. "This is Wingnut."
Inge takes Mel’s hand and gives it a firm shake. “Nice to be meeting you, I am, well, you are knowing this bit already, because I just said it. Oops? If you cannot be telling I’m a bit...nervous, about this. Not about meeting you, about the Big Team! I am not meaning to imply you are scary! But this is irrelevant. What is relevant is that it is very nice to be meeting you, um, Mel the Mechanical Menace, and I am grateful for your assistance in this matter.”
Mel snrks quietly to himself. "Mechanical Menace. I like that."
Inge walks into the workshop, finds a spot where he can sit down without sitting on or in anything, and turns towards Wingnut. “It is a pleasure to be meeting you as well, Wingnut. Are you having preferred pronouns? For that matter, are you having preferred pronouns as well, Mel?”
Wingnut tilts her head and spins her servos to make a whirring sound. Mel reaches out to run a finger along her head. "Wingnut understands everything you say, but she doesn't talk. Well, except to me, sort of. She uses she/her pronouns, I use he/him."
He hops up to sit on his workbench. "How about you? Also, tell me about this wheelchair you're looking for.
Inge nods. “Right, well, it is a pleasure to be meeting you Mr. Mel and Ms... “ she squints at Wingnut, then shakes her head. “No, Madame Wingnut. I hope you are not minding the formality. It is considered respectful on Jotunheim, and gendered forms of address are helping me practice Midgardian gender expression in a way that is respectful to the person being addressed.”
She claps her hands in that authoritative way. “Anyway, yes, wheelchair! Thank you for being willing to be making me one. I have seen images of these transportation devices on the Boogle, for GAIA has shown them to me, and frankly, I am not impressed. I am hoping we can be doing something better than a chair on wheels. I am thinking, perhaps, spider legs, like the Midgardian mythological figure Darth Maul? The goal is for rapid and flexible mobility.”
Mel hums and drums his fingers on his knee. "Darth Maul spider legs is a very cool idea… it kinda reminds me of these things a friend of mine had, like, these extra mechanical arms. Hm, I don't have access to those anymore, though, so I'd be flying blind…"
He reached out reflexively to Wingnut, who flew to his shoulder. He ran a finger almost meditatively along the line of her win, then suddenly perked up. "Oh! If you're looking for an all-terrain wheelchair, and you're not married to the Darth Maul-mobile option, I may have another idea."
He held out one arm and Wingnut obligingly hopped onto it and spread one wing. "So, Wingnut here was built to look and act like a bird, right? And that includes flying. But she's considerably heavier than your average bird. The guy who built her sucks in a lot of ways, but he did figure out metal bird technology pretty good. She and her brother have anti-grav tech in their wings. I spend so much time linked up with Wingnut, I have a good understanding of how that shit works. I bet I could make a bigger version of it, stick it on a seat, and make you a hover-chair. What do you think?" He grins at Inge.
Inge takes a moment to consider. “Yes, yes I am liking this idea. Not being tethered to the earth affords me with greater opportunity to, how do you say? Nyoom. I am impressed that Midgardians were able to find a way to free themselves from the chains of gravity so efficiently, and I am thankful that you’re willing to share this gift with me. Madame Wingnut is truly a magnificent creature.”
She pauses again. “Um, if you don’t mind my asking, why are you unable to speak with your friend with the multiple arms?”
Wingnut hops from Mel's arm to his knee and he runs his hand awkwardly through his hair. "Um, well, I can talk to him, his lab is down the hall, but he doesn't… have the arms anymore? Um, he got thrown into a time machine and when he came out they were gone. It's kind of a long story."
He smiles a little uncomfortably, then claps his hands together. "Okay! So, anti-grav chair. Uh, is there anything else you want in it? Do you need, like, storage? Cup holders?"
Inge thinks on what Mel said for a moment, then says “I am understanding now. You are able to speak to the friend, but not to the friends’ arms. While I am not yet sure how these events are traumatic, I can be providing you with space.” 
He leans back a bit. “As for the wheelchair, there are only two specific things I wish to see. The first is, if at all possible, a way to make the chair portable, so I am not having to use it in non-combat situations. I am much preferring my crutches when I am given the choice, because they are affording me the opportunity to strengthen my arms and legs. The second, relatedly, is a place to put my crutches on the chair when I am not using them. I can be making new crutches if I am losing these ones for any reason, but it is being a...what is the word? “Hassle,” because it is either taking up much time or much energy.” 
He pauses again, before continuing a bit more hesitantly. “Is a “cup holder” capable of containing an ICEE? Lady Brenna Who Is Thor recently introduced me to these beverages, and I find them delightful. It would be nice to be able to keep one on hand.”
Mel hums, hopping off his workbenches and rustling around the mess on top and through the drawers, gesturing for Inge to keep talking. He eventually pops out with a pen and a grubby-looking notebook and starts scribbling in it.
"Okay, cupholder big enough for an ICEE, that's easy. Crutch holders is also pretty doable - I'm assuming you want them in easy reach, so maybe parallel to the seat… hm, I know we're doing anti-grav, but it's probably not a bad idea to have actual wheels as a backup, too…"
He taps the pen against his chin. "Now portable, that's interesting. So presumably you need a way to make it smaller so you can carry it around. I bet I can find something somewhere that knows how to do that that I can talk to and figure it out."
He looks back up at Inge. "Anything else?"
Inge shakes her head, “No, I am being aware I have already given you much to think on, and I am not wanting to be greedy. You are providing me with a great service and I am most appreciative of you, Madame Wingnut, and GAIA for telling me where to go. I am liking all of your ideas thus far, and I am sure the final product will be both aesthetically pleasing and useful.”
She starts to get up. “Should I leave you to your work? I am sure you are probably being very busy, if all of the Big Team is making these requests of you, and I am not wanting to take up any more of your valuable time?
"Oh no, I have plenty of time. I'll build stuff for Big Team, but it turns out most of them just like, don't want a robot or whatever. Go figure!" Mel hops up on top of his workbench again, still scribbling in his notebook. "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if GAIA pointed you my way just because they don't want to see what I'd do next without a project to work on. Even though I fixed the microwave, and I was improving it, anyways." He grins at Inge. "You can hang out if you want, but it's gonna be mostly me talking to myself and pulling shit apart for parts. Oh, do you have a phone, though? I can text you updates 'n shit."
“I am not having a phone, I mostly am communicating thanks to GAIA’s assistance. Do you know where I can be getting one?” say Inge, sitting back down. “And, if it is being okay with you, it would be nice if I can stay. I am not knowing many Midgardians yet, and you are seeming nice. If there are any simple tasks I can be helping with, I would be glad to do so. I can--” He calls forth a small flame on his index finger, “--heat things up, if necessary? Or you said you are having robots? I can keep them company perhaps?”
"Well, you can just, like, buy a phone… GAIA can probably help you with that? Or Smoke, you could ask Smoke. It's not too complicated but, uh, no offense, you don't seem like you're from around here, and you might want help."
Mel lowers the notebook. "You're welcome to just hang out here if you feel like it. Wingnut's gonna be helping me, since I need her machinery to cross-reference, but when Lugnut wakes up from his nap he could use a babysitter." He gestures to the corner of the room at what appears to be a giant pile of scrap metal and trash.
“Thank you, I will ask GAIA for the contact information for this...Smoke of indeterminate pronouns. Perhaps I could be mentioning your name, in order to establish why I am contacting him for this matter?”
She looks over to Lugnut. “And I would like very much to be introduced to your Lugnut. With your permission, I will see to his waking status.” 
Inge ambles over to the pile of scrap. “Oh! He’s a dinosaur! How delightful!” she exclaims. “Oh no, he’s awake!” she exclaims equally loudly a second later, when she realizes she accidentally ruined Lugnut’s nap. She suddenly finds herself occupied with a mildly disgruntled metal dinosaur. All in all, she counts this as a win.
Mel snorts and shakes his head, smiling, and gets to work.