trans_9 | Supply Run [Open to Brainy and others in location]

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Supply Run [Open to Brainy and others in location]

It had been nice of the ship to leave him with at least a few of his boomerangs, but Owen felt almost naked with his arsenal depleted so much. Not to mention the fact that this place allegedly got intermittent lethal bug problems. To that end, he needed tools, he needed supplies, and he needed a place to work. Asking around with both the ship and it's inhabitants had pointed him towards the Special Weapons division.

He poked his head in once he got there, looking around. "Yo? Anyone here?"

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"You may work here, provided you do so in relative quiet," Brainy says, as if it's his permission to give to even work in the lab, but then he still sees it as his lab.

"Excellent." He grins, advancing and extending a hand. "Owen Mercer-Harkness-Thawne. Pleasure to meet ya." He won't be offended if science person doesn't shake his hand, but it's polite to at least offer it.

Brainy just briefly glances at it and then goes back to work.

"Salutations," he offers flatly, at the very least, even if he doesn't shake his hand. He does try sometimes to be vaguely polite.

Thawne Thawne Thawne, that name--coincidence, certainly. Possibly an ancestor of the former Earth president? Or he may be from another world entirely and completely unrelated. Either way, it's not his concern. (But ooooh, it should be).

"You may call me Brainiac 5."

Owen recognizes that he's busy and raises the hand to scratch the back of his own head. "Nice to meet you, Brainy."

He starts rummaging about at high speed, although not super speed, rummaging through junk bins (Rogues tended to be able to work on a budget) for parts, then looking for the tools he'd need. "Any chance of getting hold of some sulfuric acid in here?"

The acid-spewer was still his favorite.

"What for? We have very few supplies of necessary materials."

"...acid-spewing boomerang." He practically pouts as he says it, still shuffling about, gathering tools and scraps.

"This would be so much easier if I had a helper-monkey."

Brainy doesn't bat an eyelash at "acid-spewing boomerang." The super-crowd typically has some very interesting (and often rudimentary and ridiculous) tools, after all.

Right then a little white monkey hops up on the table Owen passes by.

"You may have Koko's assistance, but he's not the most trustworthy around acids and other caustic chemical agents."

Owen's eyes lit up. "DUDE!"

He stops dead in his tracks, extending a hand to the monkey. "You've got an actual helper monkey!" He grins, crouching down to be on eye level with it. "'Ooose a good monkey? Whose a good monkey? You are! Yes, you are! You gonna help me make some awesome stuff?"

He turns to Brainy. "You've got a monkey!" It bears repeating, apparently. "Oh man, outer space is officially awesome. As long as we don't run into a planet of mimes. Mimes creep me out."

Something in the way the man speaks just...is familiar somehow, but Brainy shrugs it off. For now.

"He followed me home from 20th century Earth when my team the Legion of Superheroes was trapped there for a time."

"Man... that's great. You go back in time and get a helper pet out of the deal." Owen petted Koko and told him some tools to find. "Outer space is definitely awesome."

He sat down at a work bench and started taking accounts of how much material he had to work with. "Acid-spewer would be nice, but the gravity induction array'll probably be a lot less material-consumptive..." He thinks out loud to himself.

There's still that nagging, nagging familiarity. It's starting to bother him.

"Why do you need an acid-spewing boomerang?"

Owen blinks, not quite grasping the questioning.

"Because it's AWESOME." He shakes his head. "How is that not clear? I mean, yeah, the flamethrower, sonic emanation, and cold emission ones I designed are fairly badass in their own right, but there's just something... very viscerally intimidating about the acid-spewer."

He scratches behind the monkey's ears. "You hear this buddy? Your boss over there doesn't get how cool my toys are."

He gives Brainy a more collected and calculating look. "And I'm serious about the intimidation factor. A weapon that's as much visual style as it is substance does twice the job in combat. Probably one of the main reasons humanoid robotics are as effect in warfare as they are, given what a miracle and hassle walking upright is to begin with."

The one thing Brainy notes from how Owen speaks is that he sounds moderately intelligent for a human. The other thing he notes is that at the same time he sounds kind of idiotic, but it's just...it's just so frustratingly familiar.

"This is unusual question, perhaps, but have we met before under some sort of circumstances that might have been erased from my mind somehow? I ask because I never forget anything, ever, but something about you is remarkably familiar."

And irritating at that. He isn't quite sure what it is, but something just...bothers him, almost instinctually about this man's presence.

Owen blinks, still paying attention to Koko somewhat. "That's.. Hm. I'd have to know where you're from to really be sure. I mean... I've been in a lot of weird situations, but... don't think anyone would have gotten mind-wiped."

He stroked his soul-patch in contemplation. "Well... at 'home', they're not common. Maybe mom's home though..." He looks up, feeling the need to clarify. "My mom's from the future. Well... 'my' future, anyway. Dad time-travelled apparently. She's from the... 30th century, I think. Any idea if there's a lot of mind-wiping there?"

He pauses, then laughs at himself. "Oh man... what am I going on about? I don't know if you're even from the same planet or dimension-thing as me."

Brainy pushes his work out of the way. He needs to, because he may need the space directly in front of him clear.

"What is your mother's name?"

Please let it not be the name of the former Earth President's daughter, please pleeeeaaase...

Owen blinks. "Meloni Thawne, why? You know her?"

Brainy head-desks. Then he head-desks again. And again.

"DUDE!" Owen puts down the scraps and tools to rush over, trying to prevent the green kid from giving himself blunt force trauma. "What's your damage?! Or... seriously, stop that before you GET damaged!"

He looks to the monkey for some kind of reaction to figure out if this just happens occasionally.

The monkey shrugs.

He finally stops.

"Just the extra dash of ruination this abduction called for."

He stops, and speculates, "Though perhaps all of his...unique qualities are from his father's side?"

Owen raises an eyebrow in confusion. What sort of helper monkey can't explain this situation? Need to get it an etch-a-sketch or something.

"Dude... umm... maybe you've been working too long." He pauses, then grins. "How about we hit the sensorium? Ride out the entire Star Wars trilogy, the good one, in Han and Luke's viewpoints."

That would rule.

"No no, the similarities are all too clear..."

He starts head-desking again.

"You're the half-brother of Bart Allen."

Owen's face lit up. "Yes! Yes I am!" He practically puffed up his chest with pride. He grins as he tries to stop Brainy from head-desking, picking him up by his collar, since he's kind of scrawny.

"Dude, cut it out. You're makin' MY head hurt just watching. And how do you know who my brother i---" His face lights up again. "Do I become famous in the future?"

"The Legion of Superheroes has worked with Bart Allen on several occasions. Most of those occasions ended in some sort of catastrophe. He was born in our era," says Brainy.

Then he's hoisted up.

"...And put me down at once, you lout!"

Owen was a little disappointed he wasn't famous in the future, yet, but he nodded. "Well, he still helped you guys save the world, right? Or... some other world probably. Where are you from?"

He curled up his face. "Well, you seemed like you might start flailing, and your scrawny arms might hit me." He hesitated, then set him down.

"The planet Colu, the 31st century. Though the Legion's base is Legion World, a mobile, artificial planetoid in Sol's solar system. Yes, Allen assisted us, both when we were in the past, and when the Titans assisted us during a catastrophe in our own time."

He adjusts his plant suit when he's put down.

"And my arms are not scrawny. I have an particularly muscular build for a Coluan."

Trufax. Most are scrawnier. He's pretty fit for a planet comprised entirely of people that'd get towel-whipped in a locker room.

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