Megaman - Thursday, July 27, 2000, 9:20 PM
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Rooftop Runway -- Hunter HQ

The Rooftop Runway is open right now, the giant hangar bay doors cranked wide to allow the night breeze coming in off the ocean to blow across the roof itself, and even filter inwards to stir up dust inside of the hangar as well. It seems like a certain someone had decided to air out the usually stuffy storage/repair bay while they were up here. Said someone is just outside, on the open-air portion of the roof with a worktable set up, and various parts and pieces scattered about. In front of him, he has a certain named metool perched in front of him, apparently having been fitting the little guy with some of the new parts that had been 'scavenged' recently...and trying them on for size.

"No, no, no..." Rick blurts, straightening up and putting his hands on his hips. "Not like -that-. The helicopter blade's gotta let ya -fly-, not just sit there and spin like a beanie. C'mon, it's gotta be somewhere in your databanks..." Rick sighs, setting his hands on his hips as he peers down at Harold....who's just had the propeller affixed to his helmet like all modular parts that Mets are designed to take.

Apparently he's having some difficulty getting the Met to figure out how to use it properly.

Harold Hardhat meeps in question and hops up and down on his two little feet. His giant eyes peer up towards the cyborg as he emits a series of beeps and whistles. "..............."

Twila pauses as she steps onto the runway for a second time within the past few hours and pauses as she comes across the sight. She watches for a few long moments before making her way forward. "Um....beanie?"

Rick Morgan sighs again, reaching up to scratch his head. "Don't tell me I'm gonna have to write a program for it..." he mutters. "..here I went and thought it came standard with all you guys on how to use your modular attachments. Unless that part got damaged when I recovered you from Guts Man's crowd..." At that moment however, Twila makes her presence known, and he turns immediately to glance back at her, flashing a quick smile. "Uh...yeah. Kinda looks like that huh? Figured I'd start seein about the parts I salvaged and whether they would still work. Seems like I managed to get this one attached with no problem....now to get him to -use- it...that's another story."

Harold Hardhat sounds off an almost melodic sound of chirps as he spins himself about on one foot. The propeller may not go around...but *he* sure does. Of course, he tirls around so fast he ends up falling. When he lands with a clatter he rolls on the ground until he hits the tip of Rick's foot. "Yip?" he blinks. His feet start kicking as he tries to upright himself. But the unfamiliar hardware on his head makes it difficult.

"So I see..." the young woman muses, feeling sorry for the metool. She bends down to right the little fella, which elicits some happy sounding chirps from him...followed by a rash of binary towards Rick. She peers at Rick confused as the met looks up at her sibling...and then plops right down in front of him...as if waiting for something. "You certainly have your work cut out for you," she says with a stifled giggle. "Maybe he's one who learns by example. You ever try a beanie?"

Rick Morgan facepalms as Harold winds up falling to the ground again...then shakes his head, setting his hands back on his hips once more. "I suppose it might work. His circuits are set up that he -can- learn. I just figured he might have had it built-in already, since the others seem to take to it quite readily. Could have been damaged before though..." He then rubs his chin thoughtfully, before bending down to pick up the little robot again, then turning to set him on the table. "Well, first thing's first..." he mutters, moving around the table to the other side, apparently intending for Twila to use the spot where he -was- standing so she can watch close up.

A few more moments go by as Rick racks his brain, and then somewhere far down, he starts to get an idea. "Ahhh. Allright. Maybe this will work." He then leans his elbows on the table as he looks right -at- Harold, to get his full attention. "You gotta get used to that propeller on your head. Your systems -can- make it spin. It's just like trying to flex an extra foot you suddenly got. You can do it...once you figure out how. So...how about if I try to give you an idea of what's to be done." With that, he reaches out with one finger, setting it on the tip of the propeller, then slowly begins to spin it clockwise, pushing it along with his hand as he keeps his gaze locked with the met's. "See? Like this. Just do what I'm doing right now....and make it go really fast."

Twila Peterson takes the space Rick had recently left in order to watch. She flicks a glance towards her sibling...and then back towards her met, wondering if this is going to help any.

A confused chirp sounds from the hardhat as he rolls his eyes upward to see just what Rick is doing. He sits there...watching until small gears begin to sound from his internals. Soon...the propeller isn't moving just but the cyborg's own prompting anymore. Slow though it may be...perhaps some progress is beginning to be made. Harold glances back up towards his instructor...wondering if this is what he's hoping for. Still...what kind of trick is this?

Rick Morgan removes his finger the instant the propeller begins to move on it's own. Ahhh, this -is- progress. "Alright...good." he offers, giving a quick nod. "This is good. You can move it. Now..." he starts spinning his finger about in circles very quickly to demonstrate. "Go faster..." he offers, grinning slightly. "Make it go faster. Fast as you possibly can."

"Congratulations, Rick! I think you---" Twila begins to say. But something stops her.

The metool continues slowly rising, kicking his feet in alarm. He lets out a pathetic cry as he reaches Rick's chest. HOW DO YOU STOP THIS THING!

Rick Morgan blinks once, and then breaks into a wide grin as indeed Harold -does- start going airborne. And then of course the dilemma sits in and his look of sudden elation turns into a sudden surprised expression. "ACK!" he gets out, darting forward and grabbing the little robot's lower half, to keep him from going any higher...or he hopes at least. Those mets have pretty strong flight capabilities once they get going. "Just...do what you did before!" he blurts out. "Just...in reverse!"

Harold Hardhat shudders as he's grabbed. If he had been human he would more than likely have been experiencing some sort of...anxiety attack. After several moments have passed the propeller starts to slow down as he tries to again do as told. His body seems to feel the pull of gravity and he sighs happily. All's right with the world. Only...no one every told him to stop the propeller once it's slowed enough. And little by little his small frame is starting to want to rise again...as does his panic.

Twila notices this of course and nearly facepalms. "Uh...Rick, I don't think just 'go the other way' is enough...."

Rick Morgan -does- facepalm, tilting his head forward and issuing a low groan at the difficulties. "I hope it isn't going to be like this when I get the aqua gear set up later on..." he mutters. With that, he reaches forward and again grabs hold of the little robot, pushing him down onto the table surface. "Alright, alright. Get it going back the other way." he grunts. And get it to -stop-. If it isn't going, you don't fly. Get it? You want to fly, you start spinning it. That's all...it's simple!"

The met glances emits a bleep as the propeller slows once again...and then comes to a stop. He sits there on the table silent for a few long moments, staring up towards the cyborg, and emitting something else within binary before waddling over towards his owner, as if asking for help. When all he's met with is a confused look he turns around and hops off the table, propeller and all, and starts heading towards a shelf of one of the other tables. He's gone from view...but after a few moments both humans here some strange noises being made from the metool. It's not metal against metal. And it's not gears grinding. It sounds more like...a mournful wail. Hardhats may not be completely sentient. But, apparently they have some level of emotion.

"Rick," Twila states softly, "I think you hurt his feelings."

Rick Morgan just blinks...and stares from Twila, to where the hardhat disappeared...then back again. "I wasn't meaning it -that- way..." he blurts, spreading his hands out helplessly. Who the heck would have ever imagined he'd wind up having produced an emotional little robot. For crying out loud, it's enough having -Fliptop- around for that matter.

"Aye-yi-yi...." He mutters, before glancing over towards the source of the sound...and after a moment's hesitation, he turns and heads over towards where Harold currently is. "Hey...." he starts, kneeling down and glancing towards where he went to do his wailing. "...c'mere. I wasn't trying to yell at you. I just didn't wanna see you go flying off. I guess it may not be as easy to figure out, I just assumed it was gonna be second nature or something. But you're -learning-."

Twila Peterson stays where she is...letting her brother handle this for the most part.

The little fella makes a sound that resembles a sniffle as he slumps there against the shelving. He casts a look towards the cyborg and sounds off a few beeps in question, blinking, and then stands. At the movement one of the propellers softly taps the siding as the metool glances back down. Again, something is stated within binary, the only language the Metool knows how to speak. "..................."

Rick Morgan certainly is NOT going to let him go back to singing. He'd rather jump off the very roof he's standing on right now first. With that, he reaches forward to gently pick up the hardhat once again, standing up at the same time as he glances down. "Tell you what. Practice session is over for tonight." He offers. "Let's just say you probably did alot better than I ever would given the chance. I'll get that thing off you and you can go on your way. But it's best if you -do- learn how to use all this stuff I'm getting, even if it takes a little time...." He raises up a finger to tap the little robot on the edge of his hat, as he then sets him back down on the table.

Harold Hardhat blinkblinks and seems take *that* notion...at least by the way he's hopping up down again excitedly.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but...I think he likes that idea," Twila states with a grin...just before Harold accidently knocks himself over again from all his excitement.

Rick Morgan smirks. "I never woulda guessed." he offers with a sudden chuckle. Though he again groans as the hardhat topples over. With a quick motion he reaches out to steady the little robot, and applies what looks like a power wrench to the top of the propeller. With a quick crank, the device comes right off, and Harold is thusly left as he was before, as Rick rights him up and sets him closer to Twila. "There...all done. I'll see what other parts I can scavenge in the near future. So far all I can get working is the propeller and the aqua gear."

The metool almost seems to emit a soft coo towards Twila. He then toddles off to head elsewhere...but not without sounding few gleeful chirps within the cyborg's direction.

As he scurries off Twila's left to chuckle. "You did say you sometimes wondered what it would be like to be a professor..."

Rick Morgan heaves a sigh, letting the propeller in his hands clank off to the side of the table, to no doubt be used at a later date. "Yeah I guess I did open my big mouth about that didn't I?" he smirks faintly, then gives a shrug. "Oh that reminds me. When I get all this stuff up and running, I wanna show you how to put it on him if it's needed. Kinda makes him more versatile if the situation requires it."

Twila Peterson offers him a mock salute. "Yes Sir, Mr. Lt. Dr. Prof. Morgan." She then icks audibly. "Sheesh...say that five times fast..."