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Who: Engineering types. Bored kids. Sky's the limit!
When: Month of December
Where: The Workshop
What: Erik's got the workshop in order, and has opened it for general use
Warnings: There's power tools, accidents happen. Nothing planned yet but will edit if need be

The workshop is located in an old docking bay near the labs. The outer walls around the room are a bit sturdier than others in the complex, possibly due to volatile materials being stored there. The ceilings are also considerably higher than other spaces in the labs area. Erik has completely stripped the area of whatever was in there before, and constructed several adjustable modular workstations.

Each workstation has several power outlets at convenient intervals, drawers with various hand tools Erik has either scavenged or constructed, is height adjustable, and can be combined into larger or broken down into smaller tables. There are lockers with a sparse collection of power tools Erik has managed to get into working order or acquire on Kaittos, as well as coveralls in various sizes and safety glasses. There are also retractable safety screens embedded in the walls and floor.

OOC: this is an OTA mingle thread for anybody who's interested in the workshop. Teach an impromptu class, collaborate on a project, try (and maybe fail) to repair something. Whatever makes sense to do in a workshop!

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After getting brainwashed by the Savrii and then failing his attempt to lose those memories on Kaittos, Nate has to check against his journal to make sure: What's been done to this area is new. Shoving his journal back into his pocket, he looks around with interest, investigating a power outlet here, pulling a drawer there.

"Weapons shop...?" he wonders out loud. Some of the tools remind him of those owned by the gunblade company which had briefly set up shop at Balamb Garden.

Erik, for his part, is not making weapons. Or furniture, as his work on the club has been pushed back. Now he is focused on carefully layering silicon circuitboards with protective plating. It is a finicky business, one that leaves him frustrated as the silicon is a dead thing in his hands.

"It can be," he says to the young man who just entered, feeling a bit skeptical about why that would be his first assumption. "That is not the primary purpose, however."

The man who speaks to him isn't familiar from the Moira nor Thisavrou. The memories that still feel so much like his own tell him this makes him more trustworthy than those people who abandoned him to the Savrii.

With a mental self reminder that this is bullshit, he looks over the man's work. "What is, then?" he asks. "It just looks kinda like a gunblade company that was at my last school for a while."

"Gun... blade?" Erik frowns as he puzzles this through. "Do you mean something like a crossbow?"

Question of the weapon he mentions aside, "This is a workshop. As I said, it can be used for weapons, but that is hardly its primary function." He glances up at the boy. "Is there something you'd like to work on?"

"Not really," Nate admits, coming over to peer at the man's work. Circuitry - looks like half his roommates' clothes. "I don't know how to use any of this stuff, never mind having something to use them on.

"And a gunblade's like a sword but with a gun action that vibrates the blade when you pull the trigger," he adds, just to clear that up. One thing he misses about his last universe is not having to explain his chosen weapon.

"Some things are more complicated than others. If you wish to learn, I'm sure we could find a way to get you started."

His brow furrows at the explanation of what a gunblade is. "What is the purpose of that? Just to make the wounds bigger?"

"Yes, exactly," he says. Finally, someone gets it. "When a full sized T-Rexaur's trying to eat you or a giant robot's blocking the lab you need to get to, you kind of need it."

Nate waves a hand. He didn't actually come in here to recap the bladed weapons class from Introduction to Weapons Training. "But enough about that: Learning what, exactly? Because that -" he indicated the circuitboard - "definitely looks complicated."

"A full-sized..." Erik repeats softly, not exactly sure what it is that the boy is talking about but knows it sounds bad.

The topic is changed before Erik can ask for an explanation. "This?" He looks at his work again. "I'm working on a project. A sort of satellite dish." He sighs. "It is ... finicky."

Even after living on a couple of worlds with increasingly advanced technology, Nate only barely understands satellites as communications tech.

"Probably not a starter project, then, huh?" He leans his elbows on the table. Might as well lay out his cards. "I don't know anything about satellites, or any of this gear, but I want to be able to help out more around the station."

Erik sets the piece he's been working on down and sighs. "No, not a beginner's project. More like a project for an unmatched genius." The bitter undercurrent of damn you, Hank is clear even as it goes unsaid.

"Fortunately, however, I don't have to design it. I simply have to recreate the original." He glances up at the young man. "I could use an assistant, if you need something to do."

Nate contemplates the pressure and time commitment of assisting in recreation of an unmatched genius's work, for about half a second, and then nods.

"Yeah, sure." And then, thinking this would be easier with names, he sticks out his hand. "I'm Nathan Drake."

"...Well. This looks a lot nicer than I thought it'd be," she comments as she steps into the workshop. Beside her is a bot that's carrying a metal tray, and upon it are some tools that look like anyone could find within a carpenter's box, besides a set of long and heavy needles and what looks to be like small, hand-sized centrifuge pump. They also appear to be far more sleek than a rudimentary assortment of supplies, their handles smooth and coated in a chrome finish.

"I assume we can use any of these work stations?" That seems to be theme for just about anywhere on this space station. It's like a free-for-all.

Erik hears the whir of the taskbot before the woman speaks. His irritation over his project only makes his irritation at the bot's presence even worse.

"You cannot control that thing, I will," he says without looking up from his work. There will not be a second warning. "And yes, the stations are free to use."

Naomi raises a delicate brow, noting the man's irritation at the bot she has brought along. Since she isn't quite aware what would make him so immediately hostile towards the AI, a bit of surprise crosses her expression as well. Yet within the next moment her affect returns to neutral, as she's here to work on her own projects and nothing else.

"I promise you, if it acts up you may disassemble it to your heart's content." She replies, her tone pleasantly permissive as she moves towards one of the work stations. "As it were, it's only here as my assistant in the interim."

She begins to place a few of the items from the tray the bot carries onto the surface of the station, already reaching for a few tools. "It's quite handy that these stations are here. It's a lot nicer than I expected."

"Those things are more trouble than they're worth," Erik grumbles. Once he has more time, he intended to study artificial intelligence to the point where he could at least stop them from trying to recalibrate his shins.

He glances up when she repeats her compliment to the workshop and realizes she is quite pretty. Of course. Everybody on this station is remarkably attractive to the point where it makes him suspicious of their captors' motives. Not that this is her fault, of course. His expression gets slightly less grumpy.

"This used to be a loading dock. I've repurposed it into something more useful."

Repurposed it for others to use, even. "That's awfully considerate of you," she comments thoughtfully. Really, she's only been here for a few days and this place looks like it needs all the work to be put into it to ensure that it doesn't fall apart. Why, just the other day she had been struck in the head with one of the falling metal ceiling boards.

"I was just looking for the right tools to fix these, ah--" Naomi falters for a moment. She's not quite sure what they're called on this station, or if they have a different name at all. But they resemble a familiar device in her world, and just looking at its cross section earlier told her exactly what its use is. She simplifies the description to one word: "Centrifuges."

Centrifuges that are made of stainless steel and no larger than the size of her palm. "They're used to pump blood for a patient when their heart cannot. I found them in the medical wing, but some pieces are out of place. What you've set up there is perfect to repair them, thank you." If she could just get one to work-- one to pump for the left side of the heart-- then that should be good enough.

Erik smiles in acceptance of her compliment. It really wasn't altruism that inspired him to all this effort, but the longer the others believed that, the better.

He tilts his head, brow furrowing as she describes what she's trying to work on. He's not a medical expert, but he's fairly certain that what she's describing is not a centrifuge. "Do you mean something like a heart valve replacement? Or a pace maker or artificial heart?"

He shakes his head, dismissing his own questions as immaterial. It doesn't really matter what she calls it, she knows what she's doing. "There are a number of tools here, though I don't know if we have anything precise enough for what you might need." He leads her to one of the tables and opens the drawer to reveal the set of hand tools there. "Our collection of power tools is quite limited, unfortunately. But if there are hand tools you require that are not here, let me know and I can make some."

"Not quite like an artificial heart, but something that assists it," she begins to explain, delicately pulling apart the two halves of one device. Since he asked, she'll explain-- mostly in part because she doesn't mind it. In fact she enjoys teaching! "There are a number of bypass pumps we use during heart surgery, with many of them using rotors to spin the blood through the cannulas to the oxygenator and then back to the patient. They're run by a very small, very powerful magnet that spins anywhere between two thousand to ten thousand times per minute. Unfortunately, this pump causes some sheering of the blood." She then takes out another one of the devices, opening it. "Some assist devices do not have as much sheering, however, such as this one. It's especially beneficial for when patients need extended time on it. Unlike the other one, this rotor is magnetically levitated within the chamber. No mechanical contact between two surfaces means less risk of thrombus and hemolysis."

She places both small devices upon the tray, looking at the various tools in the drawer. "They're really just elaborate centrifugal pumps. Repairing them simply means finding small enough tools, and maybe some copper wires, to take them apart and put them back together."

She also presumes that since she's found these on the station, they'll work the way they should even when in space. "Hopefully no one here will need such a device," she adds after a moment. Naomi doesn't know how many people here will either be stabbed or shot in the heart or lungs. Although if they ever are: "But it's in good practice to have at least two."

At last she picks up one of the hex keys available in the drawer. "So with all of that said. Do you happen to have anything smaller than this?"

Erik listens closely as she describes the device. The way it works is fascinating, unlike anything he's seen before. Although he's never been much of an expert in medicine. Between Shaw's "experiments" and the simple incompetence of postwar doctors in general, the field held little appeal. "Ah! So this is not an implant." There was the source of his confusion.

"What gauge do you need?" he asks, taking the hex keys from her. He regards the device again. "If the magnet spun more slowly, would that solve the sheering issue?"

"Whatever is the smallest." She says, indicating to a little notch where the key should fit on the device. And if nothing fits, she... doesn't know. Maybe Texas can forge her a hex key that's even tinier. These devices are small, and the tools needed to fix them are even smaller. "And as for that question... it depends on the patient's habitus. The speed is adjusted based on a number of factors, not so much the potential for hemolysis. One rule of thumb is to adjust the RPMs based on how often the aortic valve opens; I'd prefer it to open every third beat on patients who need a permanent version of the pump. Rarely, if ever, will I ever turn the speed below two thousand."

There're a lot more technicalities she's witholding from the explanation, but she doubts he expects a full blown lecture on the thing. That, and it's not a given that anyone on this scrap of floating metal in space will actually need it. At the end of her explanation she sighs, letting her concern show. "...These devices can only last so long, however. I just hope that the ones here even work once they're put together."

Erik looks at the notch and rubs the hex key between his thumb and forefinger, stretching and shifting the metal until it looks like it should fit. "Try it now," he says as he hands back it to her.

He rubs his chin as she concludes her explanation. "I could probably repair it if it were not functional. Or find a way to make it work, if there is some sort of complication."

She is not sure exactly what he's doing with the metal key because it's a little too small to see how he's reshaping it. But in the end it doesn't quite matter to her, because what he's made works exactly as it is supposed to it. Naomi uses it on the proper piece, and with a little turn the metal casing comes loose. Inside, the copper coils are like finely woven lace, if that lace were part of an antique collar. That is to say, the parts are worn.

"Looks like I got my work cut out for me," she says with a sigh, running a hand through her white hair. Naomi places the device on the work station, turning to him soon afterward. "But... thank you. You gave me a good start."

She then extends her hand, her eyes grateful to his help thus far. "My name's Naomi. In my world I'm a surgeon, but here? You don't have to refer to me as 'doctor' if you don't wish to."

Erik isn't entirely sure what the inside of the device is supposed to look like, but he's fairly certain "not that", especially when she reacts to it. His eyes follow the device as she sets it down.

He could fix that.

"Oh, ah, yes." He smiles and shakes her hand. "Magneto." He pauses and tilts his head slightly. "Do you wish to be called 'doctor'? Most doctors I've met prefer it."

Not all. Sometimes they prefer "professor".

[ Since arriving, Anakin has had no shortage of things to do. Honestly, with off-world travel, it had been easier to ignore the fact that this whole situation isn't just another mission. But with that now no longer a viable option, he's (admittedly, even to him) spinning wheels with no real recourse.

He's actually thrilled--though gone so far unstated--to find that the station they're being "kept" on has a workstation. At first, he only comes in to scope it out, poke around. Eventually, however, he bites down on that trepidation (and Force, when had that become a ruling factor in anything? Obi-Wan would tell him to be aware, but this feeling isn't one he likes having), and installs himself at one of the tables in the back corner, quiet and as out of the way as he can make it.

He doesn't come to the workshop with any real goal in mind. Instead, he lets the machinery talk to him. (Which makes him ripe for the interruption.) ]

[ Erik comes to the workstation with the intention of another long, probably frustrating, day of working on his latest project.The workshop has been seeing some use, which is gratifying. He would have hated to do all this work for a vanity project.

Today, one of the people using it, more or less, is the angry young man he met on Kaittos. He doesn't seem to be doing anything in particular. Erik decides to approach him. He is not of Earth, that much is abundantly clear, and Erik is interested in what he knows of technology.

Maybe it will help him work with all this damned silicon. ]

Anakin, good to see you.

[ He sets his materials down at the same table, on the opposite corner so they both have plenty of room to work. ]

[ At first, he doesn't look up from the circuit board he's wiring. He's too into it, despite not knowing at all what sort of thing it'll turn out to be. When his head does rise, he startles a little, and then, quietly, laughs at himself. ]

Sorry, how long have you been there? It's...it's good to see you too? Is that something you say when I guess you own the place? Of course, you're here--

[ And a pause only as he runs out of breath stumbling over himself. ]

I mean. Hi.

Edited 2017-12-13 04:13 (UTC)

[ Erik isn't insulted by Anakin's slow response. He's certainly been reluctant to leave a project that had absorbed him. He waits as Anakin verbally sorts out his thoughts. When it finally seems like he's done, Erik smiles a little. ]

I don't own it. The workshop, I mean. I put this together but it's for the station and whoever wants to use it. What is that you're working on? I've been trying my hand at circuit boards and not having much success, I'm afraid.

[ He visibly perks up at Erik's interest. After all, it isn't often that anyone cares to ask, let alone is legitimately interested. He offers a sort of shrug. ]

I don't know. The machines sort of...talk to me sometimes? [ And in a rush, as if he knows he's just said something wrong: ] I mean, I know they can't, that's not how the Force works. But it's a sense. Something like one. I've always been able to do it.

[ And then slower again, after a breath: ] I don't always know what I'm making, I just know how things fit together.

[ Erik listens closely as Anakin describes it. He is quiet a moment as he mulls it over. ]

When I work with metal, it makes a sound that is something like singing. The resonance of the molecular vibrations and the magnetic fields passing through them. I can use that when making alloys and the like. When things work it all harmonizes.

[ He spreads his hand over one of the panels he's made as he speaks, feeling the faint hum. ]

When the machines speak to you, where do you hear it?

[ He pauses in the work for a moment, caught off-guard. Is...is Erik taking him seriously? ]

It depends on what it wants to say. It's just a feeling sometimes. A sense, like how things fit together, how parts want to work. There aren't really...words. But that's-- [ He scoffs quietly to himself, attention shifting from Erik to the circuit board and back again. ]

--just metal?

That's very interesting. [ Erik muses, trying to figure out exactly what physical property he is accessing to accomplish these things.

His question brings Erik back into the conversation.]

Ah, yes. Ferromagnetic metals primarily. Everything responds to electromagnetic fields in one way or another. It's just that most substances, the reaction is so slight as to be useless. Unless I extend a great deal of energy to affect it, in which case there is always a more efficient method.

Which is what is making this project so frustrating. Silicon has very little response to my particular skills. [ He sighs. ]

Despite the moderately...uncomfortable experience on the video log, Eddie can't deny that he's still curious about what Erik has to offer to teach him. The man seems like a jack of all trades, and Eddie can't help but to admire that. The adults of this world continued to be nothing like the adults back in Derry. Especially no one so willing to let a child into a typically deemed 'dangerous work space' just to learn a thing or two.

He finds himself in the workshop with ease. His mind functioned like a map, and it hadn't taken him long to figure out where this place was at all. Eddie doesn't announce his presence though. A part of him still felt a little uncertain after the interaction. Eddie had a deep-rooted paranoia about adults, and while Erik certainly hadn't seemed as angry as Logan, he knew adults were creative in their various means of cruelty. For all he knew, Erik could turn around and be a Mr. Keene on him in three seconds flat.

But he wanted to believe that wasn't the case. He also didn't want to be a total coward. So here he was, twisting the hem of his shirt a bit anxiously.

Finally, he clears his throat. "Erik...?"

Edited 2017-12-12 08:09 (UTC)

Erik is so absorbed in his most recent project that he does not notice Eddie come in. He has to admit that Hank's original design was elegant in its simplicity, in ways that are not at all obvious and undeniably sophisticated. To the point where it caused Erik enough problems to despair of ever cracking the method and giving up on the entire project.

Jerk.

But by now he's finally developed a method of dealing with the circuit boards and the metal casing that is actually working the way he wants it to, and the process is coming along much faster than he anticipated.

He looks up when Eddie speaks. momentarily irritated at being distracted, but not overly so. He'll be able to get back to it without much trouble. "Ah, Eddie. It's good to see you. What brings you here today?"

"Sorry," Eddie automatically responds with. Not so much out of fear of Erik being annoyed with him, but just because Erik had looked like he was doing something, and Eddie felt a little bad for interrupting. Not too bad though, seeing as Erik had encouraged him to come here in the first place.

"You said I could come here to learn some stuff," Eddie began, staring around at some of the machines. Now that he was really looking at it, he could practically hear his mother's voice screeching in the back of his mind about how he could lose a hand on some of this equipment. You'll stab a nail through your eye!

"Um. I kind of wanted to make Laura a gift. It's a dumb idea, probably, but I think she'd like it," he says finally, turning his head away from the machines to look at Erik. He holds his hands up and forms a sort of soft triangle with his fingers. "I was thinking of making a sort of badge? I don't know if I can do that with the stuff here though."

"No need to apologize," Erik says. The distraction is welcome, in all honesty. He should have taken a break hours ago. He eats a few protein cubes and drinks some water. "Yes, this is a good place to learn."

He listens as Eddie describes the thing he wishes to make, his expression betraying none of the doubt inspired by the boy's (probably) innocent request. He is always suspicious of badges. And while Erik doesn't think Eddie is a cruel child, he could be. He doesn't know him well enough to be sure, yet.

However, as Eddie is requesting his help, it means that Erik could put an end to whatever scheme this is before Laura ever knows about it, if need be. He smiles kindly. "I think I might be able to assist. Did you have an idea of what you might want to make it out of?"

Truthfully, Eddie doesn't even wholly mean a badge. Mostly he wants something permanent with some words on it that Laura could hang up over her bed. A plaque would work, anything would, but a 'badge' was the first thing that came to mind.

"Um, no. I don't know what would be easiest? I want to make her something she can hang up on her wall though," he explains, making some small gestures with his hands. "And I want it to say something on it. Maybe even on both sides? I don't know."

He isn't the creative friend in the group, so he isn't explaining it all that well, but he's doing his very best. Laura already knew it was coming, and he didn't want to fail her on that. He also didn't want to give her some dumb bottle cap with something written on it. That felt cheap.

Erik tilts his head from side to side as he considers this. "Easiest would be paper. The most durable would be stone. There are pros and cons to every material. The ideal is what suits your purposes and skills the best."

He finds some scrap paper and a pencil nub. "Here, do your best to draw what it is you would like to make and see if that doesn't help organize your thoughts a little."

"I don't want it to be on paper," he says quickly and easily. That would feel pointless, somehow. If he could manage to make this for Laura, he'd want to make it for all the Losers if possible.

"I just want it to last forever if it can," Eddie says with some thought. He reaches out to take the paper from Erik and sits beside him. He stares down at the sheet of paper with a bit of a frown. He wasn't the creative one, but he did have a rather precise mind. He draws a rather perfect oval with one effortless stroke. He doesn't really know if he cares about it being an oval though, so he draws the oval inside of a rectangle.

Inside though, Eddie pauses, chewing his lip. In careful, surprisingly neat handwriting for a boy, he writes out 'The Losers Club' and beneath it, he draws a bike. Bikes, thankfully, are pretty easy to draw. He drums the pencil against the desk, brow furrowed together. He felt a little like something was missing, maybe, but can't figure out what. He gives a sigh and looks at Erik.

"I'm really crappy at this stuff," he admits simply.

Erik sits beside him and waits as Eddie sorts through his thoughts. He doesn't comment on the desire for an everlasting monument. Something more durable than paper will be good enough, he's fairly certain.

"How often do you do something like this?" Erik asks, suspecting he already knows the answer. "Eddie, you don't have to be perfect at something the first time you try. What you're doing right now is called drafting. It takes years of study to become proficient. But really, all you need to do right now is start visualizing what, exactly, it is you want to do." He looks at the sketch. "This is a good start. Also your handwriting is very clear, which is vital. It took me quite some time to master that skill."

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when u thought u posted somewhere....

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