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Brains & Brawn & Sandwiches (IC)


Dr Archeville

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Samael went to stand next to Doctor Archeville for a moment, with his arms crossed. He stood in silence for a moment before turning to Doctor Archeville and solemnly asking "Put it to me straight Doctor. How long do I have?" After a light chuckle, he got a little more serious. "So vat are ve looking at here? Anyzing out of ze ordinary? I vould ask you how zis machine vorks, but I zink my brain vould leak onto ze floor." He added as an aside.

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Oh-ho-ho! This is something!

It is indeed...

"Oh, I vould not be surprised if you reached von hundred und thirty," Archeville said, looking completely serious... for about 3 seconds, before his face broke into a grin.

Using a remote control, Archeville adjusted the image to show various parts of Samael's body. "You vere right on von ding: you are qvite strong und tough even in dis form. See, here," the image focused on a section of Sam's upper arm, "your skin has been fortified by a strong collagen-protein matrix. Und here," the skin peeled back, revealing the upper arm muscles, "see de different colors of de muscle fibers? Some of your muscle fibers haff been changed into some sort of polytetrafluoroethylene... er, something like Teflon, much stronger dan regular muscle fibers. Your bones, too, are altered..." the muscles from the image were stripped away, revealing the bone underneath, and zoomed in on it, "dere are now coils of some sort of chained polymer around them, strengthening dem. But dat's not de half of it!" Archeville seemed more and more thrilled as he showed off Samael's inner workings to him, "inside your bones, in de marrow, de 'platelet factories' haff been, I believe de term is, 'turned up to eleven,' so dat your body is producing more platelets, und de vons it makes are better dan conventional vons."

"Now, here," he said as he moved the image to focus on Samael's neck, then peeled away layers to reveal a butterfly-shaped organ, "at de thyroid gland, dere are changes, too. It has been altered to improve your body's catabolic und anabolic functions, so you can break down starches into sugars mit more efficiency und thus have more energy. Und down here, " the image panned down to Samael's abdomen, "your liver, spleen, und kidneys haff all been altered. Your liver is a more efficient toxin extractor, und is able to filer a vider variety of harmful substances; your improved spleen creates more effective und aggressive leukocytes, to better combat disease und infection; your kidneys are better able to filter out waste products und reclaim useful materials."

The image zoomed out, showing a normal image of Samael's upper torso and head. "Und den dere are de changes to your brain...."

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It was like looking at an alien landscape to Samael. There were familiar themes and motifs to be sure, but everything was different than you would think it would be. In all honesty, Samael had never considered what he would need to become stronger and tougher. It was all just some abstract concept, but all the required stuff that went along with it was just flat out staggering.

Samael spent most of Doc explanation doing one of three things. 1) Being too utterly confused to do anything else. 2) Wondering how exactly that chair worked and 3) How the heck Doc was able to process all of this information so quickly. The chair doing it was one thing, but Doc was keeping pace. It was quite impressive.

The image zoomed out, showing a normal image of Samael's upper torso and head. "Und den dere are de changes to your brain...."

"Vait." interrupted Samael. "Even my brain vas changed?"

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If this is what he's like as a 'baseline', just think what he's like when all hulked out!

I am so glad you do not control our salivary response right now.

"Indeed so," Archeville said as the scan focused on Samael's head, peeling back his face, then the muscles underneath, then the skull, then 'exploding out' sections of his brain. "Some of de changes are vons I vould expect, but others..."

"Take, for example, dis part," the image focused on the divide between the two brain hemispheres, "de cingulate cortex, vhich handles de neural processes of encoding und processing noxious stimuli -- in simpler terms, de perception of pain. Dat cluster of tissues, dere," Archeville pointed out one part, but it was hard for Sam to follow, "is some sort of... damage compensator, bypassing de safety inhibitors dat vould normally prevent you from functioning vhile injured. Dere are similar tissues throughout your spinal cord, too. Und here," the image shifted to the base of the brain, "de thalamus is altered, too, so dat a greater-dan-normal amount of endorphins und enkephalins are released vhen you are under pain or stress."

"But all dese are dings I vould fully expect in a Metahuman such as yourself," Archeville said, that childish grin spreading once more over his face. "But here are some more interesting dings. Remember vhen I mentioned de cingulate cortex, how it deals mit pain perception? Vell, dere are some... unusual connections between it und your prefrontal cortex -- de part dat handles complex cognitive behaviors, personality expression, decision making und moderating correct social behavior. It vould seem dat -- und I do say dis under de understanding dat dese are all preliminary scans, so dere is probably much I am missing -- seem dat your brain is vired such dat showing certain types of social behavior, or even thinking certain thoughts, vould be mildly physically uncomfortable to you!"

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"Vell now.... zat is interesting." Samael took a moment to ponder this new information. He wanted to get a handle on the situation. To make sense of his life if you would. "Vell, is it unusual for some of zat to be naturally occurring? After several years in ze Russian vinter breaking ze permafrost, I feel a little ill ven looking at pick axes. not ze best of times. Or are you zinking of something more complex?"

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Silence, you muscle bound moron!

Hey, now, curiosity is never a bad sign. It shows he wants to know!

"Oh, it is considerably more complex dan dat," Archeville replied. "De sort of ding you mentioned is a temporary ding, usually passing in hours or days, sometimes veeks. Dis, dough... dis is a permanent change, un a very pervasive von. I vould need to do a lengthier study before knowing exactly vhat de results of dese changes are, dough."

And if those do what I suspect they do, it will bring me several steps closer to getting a working prototype for a very efficient brainwashing technique!

What? Wait! No!

"Und since dat vill take considerably longer... vell, if you vished to move on to one more bit of 'baseline' measurement before ve move on to seeing how your Atlas form measures up," Archeville continued, then pointed to a wide foot-tall platform a few feet off to the side, "den please step up on de exercise platform."

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"Da, ok." say Samael as he moves to the exercise platform, unconsciously rubbing his head a little bit as he walks, almost as if he could touch what was wrong with it. Taking his place on the platform he does a half crouch or two and swings his arms a little to get a little loosened up. "So vat does zis zing do. Change gravity or somezing?" Samael joked, but about halfway through his chuckle, he realized that this little device just might.

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Heh heh heh.

Stop that.

"Someding like dat, ja," Archeville said as a small panel opened at one edge of the platform. Out of it rose what appeared to be a standard Olympic weightlifter's barbell bar, some seven feet long. "Stand in de center of de platform, please, und do some basic reps mit de bar."

Playing along for the moment, Sam did so, and found the bar weighed as much as a standard Olympic weightlifter's barbell bar, about 45 pounds. As he lifted, he saw Archeville manipulate his (rebuilt since their day at the Mall) Electromagnetic Screwdriver, and he could feel a shift in the bar's weight. It was a subtle, gradual increase, and for a few moments was nothing that even caused him to strain.

"Magnetics, actually, pulling on de steel bar mit more und more force, to simulate increased veight," the Doktor explained. "Und here," he added, indicating the wall-screen they'd been looking at earlier, "you can see a readout on how much veight is being simulated." A simple digital readout appeared as a hologram 'popping out from' the wall-screen, while images of Samael himself on the platform remained on the screen itself.

Samael didn't even feel any real weight until it hit around 700 pounds. At 1400, he hit another wall, but powered on through. At 2100, he could no longer get the bar over his head, but he was still able to lift it. When he was deadlifting 4100, he knew he wouldn't be able to lift much more, at least not without changing.

"You may be interested to know," the Doktor said with a large and somewhat goofy grin, "dat, even in your 'normal' form, you are roughly twice as strong as Žydrūnas Savickas, de current holder of de Vorld's Strongest Man title."

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Samael looked quite surprised. "Vell, dat is somezing. I hope zis zing can go much higher, or else ve von't know how much I can lift ven transformed. I did not zink I had gotten zat strong because ven I compare to vat I do as Atlas, zis... zis is nozing." Samael actually looked a little scared at this point. He had signed on for this to help learn the depths of his abilities, but this was like staring into the abyss.

"Is zere any more of zese base-line tests to do or are you about done? I should be able to transform again in a moment."

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He's afraid! Ha! Oh, that is interesting... and useful...

No! No manipulating any allies or associates!

"Oh, do not vorry, it can go much higher..." Archeville said, then a look of concern flashed across his face. "Dough... it is possible dat, as it stands now, it may not be able to go high enough to measure de uppermost limits of your strength."

The easygoing smile was back, "but ve can vorry about dat vhen de time comes!"

He looked back and forth between Sam and the images of Sam on the wall-screen. "Ja, okay, you can stop now, take a breather. I haff all de basic baseline data I need for dese preliminary tests. Vhenever you are ready, you can change, und start lifting dat bar again."

A light suddenly shown down on Sam from above. Looking up he saw a halo of light in the ceiling above, which broke into several smaller lights on the end of robotic tentacles that uncurled down towards him, though they did not cross the threshold of the platform and stayed outside of it, leaving him ample room. In addition to the lights, each metal tendril had several camera lenses on the ends.

"Ah, sorry, should haff varned you. Dey'll be monitoring you as you change. I vanted to get you from all angles."

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Samael had to chuckle at this turn of events. "Da, make sure you get my good side." says Samael as he does a few poses last seen on Rumble-a-mania VXII. Samael took a moment to catch his breath and get himself ready for the transformation. Although the process was remarkable quick for someone who had just effectively dead-lifted a truck, but the time probably felt like days to Doctor Archeville.

In short order Samael was ready to continue, and deposited the shirt he had borrowed from Doctor Archeville on the ground, he didn't want to tear it to shreds. "Okay. Good to go." Samael said and gave Doc a moment to make any last minute tweaks he needed. Samael took a few deep calming breaths and for a moment, looked entirely still. But then he suddenly lurched forward as the change began. Nearly every vien in his body was suddenly bulging. There was a great number of cracks and groans as his bones expanded and shifted. His skin transitioned to a deep red hue, and was stretched to the breaking point as his muscles compounded over and over again.

As the last few bits popped into place, Atlas slowly stood to his new height. He had just put on about 42 inches vertically and at least 30 horizontally, and, if the scale was to be believed, more than 800 pounds. His right hand closed around the barbell and he began lifting it like a bicep curl without paying it the slightest attention. "You catch all zat?"

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  • 2 months later...

Whoa! Look at that!

I see, I see!

Samael could see that Archeville was thoroughly engrossed by and excited about the readings the tentacle-cameras were providing. "Ja, ja, I got it all! Oh, have I got it! HA! But... " A perplexed look fell over the Doktor's face, and he appeared to be getting more agitated, "vait... if dat is... den dat vould... no, no, dat cannot be... oh, but if it is, den... ja, ja, dat vould make sense... HA!"

Archeville clapped his hands together suddenly, "Oh, Samael -- I dink de readings I can get off of you are going to be qvite useful in my research into de nature of metahuman powers! It appears dat, vhen you change, your body undergoes a sort of.... 'reverse nuclear reaction,' absorbing energy und transmuting it into excess mass; I vould surmise dat de reverse happens vhen you change back, converting de excess mass into energy und dispersing it to de environment. Of course, dis leads to more qvestions -- vhere is all dat energy coming from, und going to? Mein scanners detected some minor fluctuations in de local EM fields, but nothing on de magnitude your transmogrification vould suggest."

Extradimensional?

We have long theorized that size-changers draw their extra mass from and shunt it to some other dimension; if we can track it via Atlas-

A new source of power to tap into!

To power hospitals and houses! An alternative to fossil fuels!

No, fool - for weapons!

"Oh, vhat fun dis vill be!," Archeville was giddy as a schoolgirl... and that was kinda disturbing.

"Ahem... yes, vell... time for all dat later," he said, regaining his composure. "You did say you vould not be able to stay late tonight, so let us do von more test -- more veightlifing, in your fully powered alternate form -- und den ve can call it a day. Anytime you are ready..."

Atlas barely felt any weight at all as he lifted the bar. Not even when Archeville had cranked the power all the way up, and the magnetic machinery under the floor tore itself out and stuck to the ends of the bar.

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Archeville clapped his hands together suddenly, "Oh, Samael -- I dink de readings I can get off of you are going to be qvite useful in my research into de nature of metahuman powers! It appears dat, vhen you change, your body undergoes a sort of.... 'reverse nuclear reaction,' absorbing energy und transmuting it into excess mass; I vould surmise dat de reverse happens vhen you change back, converting de excess mass into energy und dispersing it to de environment. Of course, dis leads to more qvestions -- vhere is all dat energy coming from, und going to? Mein scanners detected some minor fluctuations in de local EM fields, but nothing on de magnitude your transmogrification vould suggest."

Most of the explanation went over his head, but Samael got the gist. "Vould stored energy in my body make up for some of zat? Zat might be vhy I can't change back for a vhile. Or vould your first scan have picked up on zat ze first time zrough?" Atlas shrugged pausing for a moment while a new thought popped into his head. "Vait... does zis mean zat I am radioactive? Or... anti-radioactive? You know vat, zis is a bit above my level, just ignore me."

Atlas smiled seeing the Doctor giddy. The man loves his work, one of life's greatest goals... then again he may love it a little too much. Ah, he's brilliant, he's got a right to be a little nuts.

When the weight lifting began again, Atlas let his eyes wander. He knew it would be a while before the machine started giving him any problems, and the lab was full of so many shiny things he could easily kill an hour wondering what was in a single corner of the room. He felt like he was in one of those really snooty art galleries where people would stare at a painting for hours upon hours trying to guess what it was saying or why it was so important. He was debating whether the machine in the back corner was either a warp gate to different realities, or a really fancy mirror, when a chunk of the good Doctor's lab tore itself up from the floor.

A string of rather colorful Russian profanities issued from Samael's lips in shock. Doc's machines also noticed that Samael's pulse just spiked. "Oh jeez Doc. I am so sorry. I don't know vhat happened. Oh god I'm sorry. I vasn't paying any attention and - and - and..." says Atlas in the span of about 1 second, obviously worried that Doctor Archeville is going to be livid.

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  • 2 weeks later...

You stupid @#$%!^&$%^&*$%^@%#^&

Oh... ohhh... this will not be good... I have got to-

Atlas saw a look of sheer rage take over Archeville's features, one he had glimpsed in reflective surfaces during the heat of battle far too many times; his facial coloration was even starting to match his own. But, just when he thought the Doktor was going to unleash his own string of German curses, he instead... burst into laughter?

"I haff often vondered," he choked out, "vhich vould break first: some componeent of de machinery, or de floor covering it!"

The Doktor walked -- stumbled, really, still laughing -- over to Atlas, and placed a hand on him, (though whether it was to reassure him, or to hold himself up, Atlas wasn't completely certain). "Und as for... for radiation, do not v-vorry about dat -- if you vere... vere radiaoctiff, mein scans vould haff p-picked up on it looong before now!" He paused to wipe some tears from his eyes, "Ohhhh my... dis is a mess. Ah, but, not to vorry, dis is vhy I haff robots!"

Sure enough, an assortment of small robots -- each about the size of a dog or cat, mostly insectile in shape, though one looked more squid-y -- were already on the scene, hauling off pieces and putting up small flashing beacons around the perimeter of the hole.

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A panicked look of "oh ****" briefly crossed Atlas's face as he wondered whether or not he was going to have to battle his way out of a mad doctor's lab, before the Doctor finally cracked a smile. Atlas just stood their awkwardly holding up a portion of Archeville's lab as Archeville himself tried to regain his composure. "Soooo.... you're not mad? ...You are a very strange man Archeville."

"So... uh..." started Atlas trying to keep the conversation going while he tried to non-chalantly put down the barbell "How high did ve get?"

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He! Broke! My! Machine!

He! Did! Not! Mean! To!

Lumbering, ham-handed oaf!

He may not be the most graceful of beings, true, but that is all the more reason to help him get a handle on his abilities!

His abilities would be perfectly controlled with a Hypno-Chip...

We will not be doing any of that.

"Mad?!" he snapped suddenly, standing straight up and fixing Atlas with a piercing glare. "I haff been called mad before... und vhy? Because I dared to dream of mein own race of radiation-resistant leech-men?! "

One uncomfortable silence later, the Doktor again burst into laughter. "Ohhh, I love doing dat!" he said as the last of his giggles left.

"Ahem... now, as for you qvestion," he went on, as if nothing unusual at all had happened, "I had designed de system for a pull of approximately von hundred und eighty tonnes... dose vould be metric tons, of course. Und vhile dat may sound impressive, vhat is more impressive is dat, even at dat level of resistance, de look on your face indicated dat you vere barely exerting yourself, no more dan... dan I vould vhen lifting von two-und-a-half kilo bag of potatoes! I vill need to completely redesign a system to accommodate you!" he added as he nudged a few broken parts around with one foot.

* Doc's machine went up to Str 70 (heavy load 200 tons), I believe Atlas at this time had a Str of 100 (light load 4,000 tons).

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...

... "Right... Vhen's ze last time you had a psychiatric evaluation?" said Atlas in jest... probably.

Atlas thought for a moment when Doc mentioned how high the machine actually did go. He then realized he had no sense of scale for how big or heavy that actually was. He began thinking out loud, trying to think of some analogy to wrap his mind around that figure. "Vell... if a car veighs about a ton, zen zat vas 180 cars, obviously. And I saw on one of zose nature shows zat vhales can be up to 20 or 25 tons, so zat's like 8 vhales. And zat is my equivalent of a bag of potatoes... so vhat.... I can lift an aquarium or somezing?"

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"De fifteenth of last month," he replied nonchalantly, nudging more pieces of broken machinery with his foot and watching the robots scurry all about it. "Dough he retired soon aftervards, so I am looking for a new von, in addition to mein own regiment of self-medication. Adequate psychological und psychiatric care is someding hard for many like me to find; de minds of de hyper-intelligent are so afire dat, should ve fully bare ourselves to most therapists, it is doubtful dat deir minds could survive de searing caused vhen minds of great power mesh deeply mit... vell, 'lesser intellects' is de most polite yet accurate label I can apply."

My mind is a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives! And no psychobabble 'dam' shall hold it back!

No, but it can at least be diverted.

Atlas picked up a hint of sadness in the Doktor, and then it hit him: as much as he stood out due to his impressive size and strength (even when not in "Big Red Man" form), Archeville must be even more isolated -- at least Atlas could talk to people without having to "dumb down" to their level. Playing dumb, to throw off a foe or for a laugh, was one thing, but to have to do that in every social interaction, to have to treat everyone as if they were incompetent babies....

"As for your strength," he went on, slapping Atlas on both shoulders (and having to hover up a few feet to do so), "I vould say dat, on rough estimate of vhat ve haff seen here today, you could bench press... oh, about tventy two und a half thousand tonnes. Dat... dat is an entire ocean liner, like de Titanic."

* 22,679 tonnes = 50,000 tons = max load for Str 100. The Titanic weighed 52,310 tons.

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Atlas put a massive paw on Archeville's back as he beared a bit of his soul. "Vell Doc, I am one of ze lesser intellects, but if you ever need someone to talk to I'm alvays here, for vhat its vorth." He smiled weakly, hoping that Archeville would look past Atlas' failings and focus more on his friendly nature. It was a long shot, but worth it.

Atlas was more than a little stunned at the figure Doc announced. "Zat is quite a bit more zan I expected..." said Atlas as he rubbed the back of his head in contemplation. That one annoying thought popped back in his head and he figured it was time he tried to get an answer. "Do you have any zeories about ze origin of my powers?"

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WHAT?!

Elena has been advising that we try and make more friends, so I-

You think I'd want to be friends with... with that?!

He is friendly and, in his own way, quite charming. I certainly would like to be friends with him, so-

BAH!

Archeville smiled weakly at Atlas, then began to pace back and forth. "vell, you said you first changed vhen some Mafiya thugs began beating on und shooting you," he started, seeming to choose pursuing a scientific conundrum over any real social interactions. "Adrenaline is often a catalyst to de manifestation of metahuman abilities -- dis is von reason so many metahumans manifest deir powers in deir teen years -- und your system vould haff certainly been flooded mit it den."

"Is dere anyvon else in your family who has exhibited metahuman powers?"

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Atlas nodded as Archeville laid out his first theory. But his expression hardened a bit when the discussion headed to the issue of family. "I never got ze chance to know zem all zat vell. Zey vere taken by ze government for "rehabilitation" and I never saw zem again.... So ze simple idea is zat I simply have no idea. Zough personally I zink it is razer unlikely. Ozervise, I vould zink zat zey vould have fought back against ze government. But zat just may be ze vishes of a young boy; hoping zat zeir parents really vere bullet proof da?"

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Aww, does the big stwong man miss his mommy and daddy?

Well, I would think it is perfectly within reason to... hey, stop that!

The German Doktor nodded, "ach, ja, I know quite a bit about families being separated und disappearing."

He turned and pointed towards the large monitor-covered pillar dominating in the center of the massive laboratory, "I could try und find what happened to dem, dough it would take some time, und I cannot guarantee I vould find anyding, vhat mit all de files lost in assorted political upheavals over de past few decades."

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Atlas nodded somberly. It was hard to put into words what those times were like, and the both of them had lived through it, or at least in its shadow. So it was best to left some of those feelings left unsaid. "Zanks, but no zanks. You have more important zings to be doing. And I could have done some research myself. I nearly did many times over ze years, but I alvays stopped before I got started. I vant to know, but at ze same time, I really don't. Vhen I don't know, zen zere is room for hope. Vhen I know ze truth, zere is no escape from reality da?"

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You ignorant fool!

Now, now, we should respect his decision.

Bah! Let's get this fool out of here, so we can concentrate on his scans without him breathing -- or drooling -- down our back!

Or take a nap. We did almost die today, and that tends to take a lot out of someone.

"As you vish," Archeville replied, then stretched and arched his back. "Vell, I must say dis has been an interesting day! Also qvite draining... und you did say you had places to go tonight, so... vould you like to make a sandvich to go? I can call you vonce I find anyding conclusive from de tests, und you are of course velcome call me any time!"

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Atlas nodded once again. "Zat vould be good Doctor." said Atlas as he stooped down to pick up the shirt he had borrowed from Archeville. Putting it back in the closet he added. "Don't feel pressured zat you have to solve it. It shouldn't be ze highest zing on your to do list. Ignorance is bliss da? But if not knowing is bozering you, zen by all means, continue." Atlas waits outside the elevator door for Doc to catch up.

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