[Ever since the robot throw-down, Newt's been trying to figure out how to get into contact with Orion. He hadn't specifically seen the bot in the fight--it was hard to see from his vantage point, just a lot of sparks and flashing... steel? Iron?? Let's just go with metal--but if the guy had come to him for help and left in that state, they hardly had any form of medic. And what can he say? Newt was worried about him. Especially since he'd been pretty screwed up when he left which had been incredibly frustrating to the biologist. Maybe if he'd had more time to study the biology of the bot, he'd been able to help, but Orion hadn't seemed keen. Well, he could hardly blame him. Newt doubted anyone would willingly let an alien root around through their organs.
So Newt's kept his ear to the ground, abusing his access levels at CONDOR a little to enquire if anything had been done about the whole 'Robot Mess', but he'd just gotten bureaucratic bullshitting back. Only to be expected since he's been out of the loop for way longer than he'd like to admit, but it's still so frustrating. He's even considering on letting Kit actually try and hack their comms (she probably already has but just hasn't told him).
In any case, the curiosity and fascination with the Cybertronian race has him distracted enough that he's had to start bringing his work home with him, so here Newt is fiddling with a incredibly intricate robotic hand whilst listening to loud rock music and nursing a strong cup of coffee. Sleep was for nerds. Or well, for normal people. There are a few sketches of what he can remember of Orion's audio input sensors scattered across the desk that he's dug out to ponder over as he fixes the tension in the prosthetic, causing it to flex intermittently in his own hands. Giving a groan, he pushes it aside and picks up one of the rushed sketches, burying his head in his hand with the screwdriver, face scrunching.
How did it even work? How was there such a thing as biological metal? Did they eat ore or something else? How do they reproduce? Does a factory make them? Did they have squishy parts inside like a dalek from Doctor Who or were they entirely metal?
It's enough to bug the hell out of him and Newt doubts he's actually going to get any good work done with these questions running around in that huge head of his.]
Newt and Ratchet
So Newt's kept his ear to the ground, abusing his access levels at CONDOR a little to enquire if anything had been done about the whole 'Robot Mess', but he'd just gotten bureaucratic bullshitting back. Only to be expected since he's been out of the loop for way longer than he'd like to admit, but it's still so frustrating. He's even considering on letting Kit actually try and hack their comms (she probably already has but just hasn't told him).
In any case, the curiosity and fascination with the Cybertronian race has him distracted enough that he's had to start bringing his work home with him, so here Newt is fiddling with a incredibly intricate robotic hand whilst listening to loud rock music and nursing a strong cup of coffee. Sleep was for nerds. Or well, for normal people. There are a few sketches of what he can remember of Orion's audio input sensors scattered across the desk that he's dug out to ponder over as he fixes the tension in the prosthetic, causing it to flex intermittently in his own hands. Giving a groan, he pushes it aside and picks up one of the rushed sketches, burying his head in his hand with the screwdriver, face scrunching.
How did it even work? How was there such a thing as biological metal? Did they eat ore or something else? How do they reproduce? Does a factory make them? Did they have squishy parts inside like a dalek from Doctor Who or were they entirely metal?
It's enough to bug the hell out of him and Newt doubts he's actually going to get any good work done with these questions running around in that huge head of his.]