Supply Run [Open to Brainy and others in location]

[fast-thrower.livejournal.com]

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?"

Comments

[fast-thrower.livejournal.com]

Owen grumbles. "One of the Keystone Rogues, circa the second and third Flashes. Name pretty much spells out the gimmick."

So much for notoriety.

[cabbage-butt.livejournal.com]

"Ah, so an enemy of the Flashes."

He says it very matter-of-factly. There's no tone of judgment in his voice or anything.

[fast-thrower.livejournal.com]

"He was. I'm not." Owen just wants to clarify that point. He's heard more than enough about his father at this point. He doesn't rile easily.

"How about you? Any relatives in the hero or villain business?" He starts the finer shaping of the casing for an electro-pulse boomerang. Easy enough components to find amongst the garbage, and easily recharged.

[cabbage-butt.livejournal.com]

"My title is Brainiac."

What do you think?

Yes, that Brainiac.

[fast-thrower.livejournal.com]

Owen blinks.

"So.... you're smart?"

Outside of those he's worked with, fought directly, or scoped out for Checkmate, he's not exactly well-versed in cape-lore.

[cabbage-butt.livejournal.com]

"Of course."

He goes on.

"...You've never heard of the original Brainiac? He was one of Superman's greatest foes."

[fast-thrower.livejournal.com]

Owen shrugs. "Never payed too much attention to the cape-crowd until I met my dad. Also not from Metropolis, so I'm not exactly up on Big Blue's villains gallery."

[cabbage-butt.livejournal.com]

"He was one of the worst supervillains in the known universe, feared and despised across the galaxy."

[fast-thrower.livejournal.com]

"Huh. Big league stuff."

Owen pauses, hammering out a casing until it's smooth. "So you're his... how many 'greats' grandkid or whatever would that be?"

[cabbage-butt.livejournal.com]

"His clone was Brainiac II. If he is defined as his 'son,' I would be Brainiac's great-great grandson."

[fast-thrower.livejournal.com]

"All clones, or was there any Coluan bow-chicka-wow along the way?" Owen grins, but he's genuinely curious.

[cabbage-butt.livejournal.com]

Brainy rolls his eyes.

"They all procreated to create offspring, though in my mother's case, she was artificially inseminated."

[fast-thrower.livejournal.com]

"Sooo..." Owen squinted slightly, gears in his head turning as his hands were assembling the boomerang. He scarcely seemed to even look at it, even as he took each tool and piece from Koko.

"You guys live a really long time then."

[cabbage-butt.livejournal.com]

"The average Coluan lifespan is approximately 750 years, though some have lived longer than a millenia. The Coluans of the Brainiac line have typically had the genetic capacity to live even longer, but usually don't die of natural causes."

They don't tend to go quietly in their sleep.

[fast-thrower.livejournal.com]

Click.

Owen looked down, surprised that he was done already. "Ah... slick." He looked over the boomerang with a frown. It wasn't as smooth as he'd like. Enough force in the throw and practiced skill could compensate, but it was ugly. He briefly flicked the switch for it on and off, the crackling of electricity appearing and vanishing. He nodded his head to the side as he figured it would do for now.

He let himself get used to the heft and balance of it, shifting it from finger to finger. "So how old are you? If you mature anything like humans, by the look of you I'd guess you're at the age to be discovering girls and all their wonderful traits..." He grinned lightly.

[cabbage-butt.livejournal.com]

"Mentally, Coluans mature much faster than most other species. Colu adheres to the galactic age of consent, 14, wherein most species in the UP are considered legal adults, and that's being generous. There is often talk of lowering the age for Colu, but there is contention from other planets due to Coluans physically maturing more slowly."

Basically, it would kinda freak people out if little midget Coluans ran around acting like adults when they looked like twelve-year-olds.

"I'm twenty years-old, myself."

I.E. long past the age of noticing girls.

He looks a tetch younger, closer to sixteen or seventeen, possibly, but Coluans in general have an ageless kinda quality. Two-hundred-year-olds look like they're in their twenties. It's all just...stttreeeeetched out.

[fast-thrower.livejournal.com]

Owen started tossing the boomerang from hand to hand, moving to set the lab door open to give himself some throwing room. "Freaky... for me anyway. Not trying to harsh on other-culture standards. Scuze me for a sec."

He flings the boomerang out the door, flipping the switch as it leaves his hand. It crackles to life, electricity spraying off of it in wild tendrils even as it begins to arc back. The current seems to fade as it draws closer, being only extended slightly by the time Owen reaches out at super-speed to pluck it from the air and switch it off in the same motion.

"Awesome." He kisses it, then slips it into one of his jacket's holsters. "One down.... a lot to go."

[cabbage-butt.livejournal.com]

"Is there a reason you favor such a primitive delivery system for the payloads of your weapons or are you simply maintain tradition for the sake of sentimentality?" Brainy asks, with some disgust in his words at the second option.

[fast-thrower.livejournal.com]

Owen gave him a flat look, then lightened up. He wasn't very good at grudges anymore.

"It's what I'm good at." He started getting more scraps so he could work on the flamethrower one. "And besides that, I..." He scratches his head. "It's weird, I know inherited abilities don't work like this at all, so maybe it's just some mental block from PTSD, but... I only figure this stuff out when it applies to boomerangs." He shrugs.

"I can pack a boomerang with as much horsepower as a '67 Chevy, but I can't fix a shorted out microwave oven."

[cabbage-butt.livejournal.com]

"The same principles apply. Both rely on the same primitive technology," Brainy says somewhat snidely.

[fast-thrower.livejournal.com]

"Boy you're picky, ain't'cha?" Owen shakes his head, raising an eyebrow. "You going through Pon-Farr or something?"

He squints one eye shut as he starts work on a miniaturized high-yield heating coil. Liquid accelerants are easier, but probably harder to replace in this locale. This'll have to do. Note to self, only catch this one at superspeed, usual friction-shield should compensate.

[cabbage-butt.livejournal.com]

"And what, precisely, is pon farr?"

Despite acting like one, and having hit on met one, he doesn't know a ton about Vulcans, though he does know about their biology.

... Because he scanned it. Yes.

[fast-thrower.livejournal.com]

"This hormone thing these really smart race of people go through where they really need to get laid, or they wind up killing someone." Owen quips as he starts reworking the casing.

[cabbage-butt.livejournal.com]

There is the crash as Brainy slams a piece of equipment into the worktable.

"I am not sexually repressed!"

[fast-thrower.livejournal.com]

Koko jumps behind Owen, latching onto his back.

Owen just blinks, closing up the casing on the boomerang.

"Okay, dude. Here's my rule of thumb." He cleared his throat, drawing himself up, and pointing one finger upwards in a 'matter of fact' gesture.

"If you have to think for more than a second, or I guess in your brain's case, a nanosecond, to remember the last time you got laid, it's been too long."