nexus_crossings | one mech's trash is another man's...

Misfire is, what some may call, a hoarder. He would like to consider himself a collector of fine treasures. However his room back home is just overflowing with crap. The air hanger at the edge of the wilds he's found here in the Nexus is starting to look similar. He doesn't care of course. Buuuut a certain superior officer of his back home did and ordered he clean his quarters out or his quarters would be moved from his quarters to the brig.

Keen on not getting tossed behind bars like some kind of... of common CRIMINAL, he decides to do the equivalent of just shoving it all into his closet. The closet in this case being the Nexus.

And it's all here now. There's... a lot... at least a little bit of pretty much anything you can imagine. His 'home' after all is a giant ship with quantum engines able to jump into new universes. You pick up a lot of stuff when you're on a never ending adventure across the multiverse. And that's before you even get to the Nexus!

Yeah there's boxes and crates and just random piles of stuff all over... is that an arm? That's an arm. Misfire hurries over to scoop it up. Looks like it belongs to a friend of his. Riptide maybe? He has vague memories of winning it off him in a drunken card game a little bit ago. Maybe he should give it back...

Either way the junk had to be dealt with. Even he could see the necessity. So what better way to get rid of a ton of junk then with a yard sale? He could just throw it out but... he just can't stand the thought!

So he's posted signs all around the Nexus advertising a sale with vague directions to his hanger.

"Hey! Thanks for coming! You looking for anything in particular? Bet I got something somewhere around here that's perfect for you!" he grins and waves at anyone curious enough to come out here. Possibly with the aforementioned severed arm.

(( ooc: Feel free to make up anything for the assorted junk laying around. Literally anything is fair game, the weirder and more obscure the better. He's defaulted to his giant robot form for this thread but if you'd prefer to interact with his human holographic avatar just let me know. ))

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What kind of hellish building collapse is this? There were signs and honest-to-God billboards in the Nexus advertising a yard sale but upon arrival Dr. Octavius is fairly certain she's spying a fully furnished mobile home, a fighter jet, an entire shipping crate as well as piles of more human sized objects strewn in little rows up and down the spacious lawns as far as she can see.

That's before one even stops to pay attention to the Giant Freaking Sentient Robot booming out a welcome to all those who get anywhere near. Frankly, it's amazing he's collected so many comparatively microscopic items suitable for human use.

"Color me interested." A pity there's so many people about or she'd definitely be using her extra prosthetic limbs to climb to eye level with Misfire. As is she wanders up and down the little rows giving the giant robot as much berth as possible. Getting stepped on is a real threat so far as she's concerned.

"Excuse me." She has to cup both hands when she calls out to Misfire. "You wouldn't happen to have any super magnets just lying around, would you?"

The fighter jet is also painted to look like Starscream, the former second in command of the faction Misfire belongs to. Screamer is notoriously unpleasant and is disliked by pretty much everyone. Misfire took a lot of pleasure in taking dumb pictures of that juet with even dumber captions to post on social media.

Until Starscream sent him a cease in desist. What a no fun loser.

"You don't have to yell! I got my audial sensors tuned to pick up voices from tiny mouths," He explains though he still crouches down to make this conversation a little easier.

"Super magnets? Eh probably not. Those things make my dermal mesh break out something fierce," he winces at the memory, rubbing his cheek, "I think I have a couple quantum magnets though. Interested?"

Oh! Well, isn't that convenient. She drops her hands back to her sides then, head tilted back so she can take in as much of this robot as possible. He's even being personable and trying to get down more to her level. That's actually pretty nice.

The corner of her mouth ticks upwards in a smile.

"I can see why that would be something of a nuisance." It was a long shot either way but--the counteroffer has both of her eyebrows raising. "I most certainly am. Looking to repair a particle collider on a bit of a budget. My previous business partner is a bit unreachable at the moment."

Misfire is certainly one of the friendlier examples of his race. At least when it comes to interacting with organic lifeforms

"Huh... you know I don't know I'd use these things in anything that might, y'know crack reality a little by accident," he comments though he's already glancing around as if he's trying to remember where he put the damn things.

"See they used to be normal magnets. My friend Brainstorm said I was too dumb to science so I stuck them to side of our ship's quantum engines before we space-jumped as an experiment to prove him wrong. And now I've got magnets that fade in an out of reality at random intervals!" he laughs suddenly and slaps his knee at the memory, "Ah you should have seen his expression, it was great. But yeah, anyways, probably wouldn't be great to actually use them for anything."

Now, everything about that explanation is and should be alarming to hear, but if anything Olivia's eyes are getting wider. So, maybe she can't use the damn things to power her particle collider. But what she can do is study the ever living heck out of the magnets that are already winking in and out of reality.

"You raise a stellar point, my good gigantic sir." Doctor Octavius brings a hand to her mouth and laughs right alongside Misfire. It's a good story! "However they would make quite the conversation piece. And as my area of research is inter-dimensional physics I've already got a soft spot for knick-knacks that I could have in my office."

"They might be a little big for a nick-nack for someone your size. Make a hell of a conversational piece though!"

The reason for the comment becomes pretty evident pretty soon. After a few moments he comes up with, what for him, is a small box. It's the size of your average refrigerator though. It's blue and covered in alien looking glyphs and even though Liv might not be able to read them they're pretty obviously some warning messages.

"Well..." he opens it up and frowns, "They SHOULD be in here..."

He sets it down. The inside is completely empty.

"Think they're currently in a state of 'not here' right now."

Considering all of the very microscopic (to the giant robot man) items Misfire seems to have collected here among the larger pieces, Liv wasn't quite sure what to make of the magnets in question. It's not surprising exactly to have them be rather on the unwieldy side for her since it's still so very small for him.

"Well, that might actually work in my favor. They always appear back in that box do they? No matter where you've moved it to?"

"Yeah, this other nerd I know, Nautica, she's a quantum engineer. Anyways she was getting annoyed at them just fading back into reality wherever they wanted to show up so she designed that box for 'em," he snickers, remember a few of the more hilarious inconveniences before she snapped and made the box, "She explained it but I don't know, don't remember much of it. It's some kind of fixed universal focal point or something."

"Splendid."

Either he's telling the truth and she'll have a much easier time moving that box where she likes it before they phase back into reality or he's lying out his tailpipe but given the doctor a wonderful thought experiment she can try on some of these doorways to and from the Nexus while she's working on repairing her particle collider.

"What exactly are you looking for in exchange for these supposed magnets? While I'm happy to take them off of your hands, the novelty must be worth my budget." She clasps her hands together in front of her primly.

one mech's trash is another man's...

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