Yeah, definitely no swords for me. I lose limbs enough as it is. [And by that, he means in accidents in his own workshop, mostly, but hey.]

[The engineer leads the way into an expansive lab and workshop, with backless shelving units creating a suggestion of individual workspaces around a multitude of tables and workbenches, all of which sport projects in various stages of development or maintenance and all manner of natures, from drones to weapons to who-knew-what. There was a sense of chaos that, for all its haphazardness, seemed almost inviting. 'Come explore, come discover, come play!' Wheeljack will carry Sam and lead his new guest in and around to the left, to where he keeps all the stuff he's collected that he hasn't really decided what to do with. Hey . . . the Warehouse has an impressive, seemingly endless supply of everything ever, but as the inventor who built and maintains the drones who in turn catalog and maintain the Warehouse, who do you think gets first dibs on whatever the Miasma deposits around Haven?]

Wellp, have at, pal. An' if I don't have somethin' you're lookin' for, let me know what it is, an' we can go see if it's in the Warehouse somewhere . . . uh . . . didn't catch your name, by the way.