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Welcome to The Lab! (IC)


Supercape

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Supercape stood up to the podium, gave a smile, a cough, and a tap of the microphone.

"I say, is this thing working, ah yes, so it is, splendid!"

He reached up to adjust his bow tie, before realising he didn't have one on, and he was not giving a lecture at Freedom City University.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and esteemed labotorians" he had made that word up, but it sounded suitably Etonian, he thought. "Welcome to our pride and joy, the Lab. You are inside what must surely be one of the finest research centres in the world, dedicated to the advancement, implementation, and dissemination of science for the good of mankind. It is through science that we hope to build a better future for ourselves, and for our children, and for our children's children, and for our children's children's childre..."

"*Ahem*"

"Suffice to say that we hope that the Laboratory will be one of the guiding lights as we build a better tomorrow. And more. For the laboratory is also our shield against scientific errors, and accidents, be they natural or man-made. Should disaster strike, it is here, at the laboratory, that the fine minds of the city, or even the world, that the tools of science shall be wielded as sword and shield against whatever ill fortunes may befall us. "

Not bad. A bit Shakespeare in flavour, but I imagine they will lap it up... he thought, as he conceded the floor, looking around for the last member, Ironclad...

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After a moment passed with no Ironclad to be found, Miss A rescued the moment by resuming the podium. "So go ahead," she encouraged with a smile, "explore, eat, socialize. We hope you enjoy your time here today, and that this is the start of a long and beautiful friendship." It wasn't hard to get a bunch of reporters mobilized to eat food and nose around, so not much more had to be said. She smiled for a few more pictures, then stepped down, sitting informally on the edge of the low stage and looking approachable for questions.

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"Where is that cheeky young lass?" murmured Supercape, although he couldn't hide the grin from his face no matter how much he tried to scowl "thoroughly bad behaviour. Totally unacceptable. Honestly..."

"...the cheek!" he laughed. Of course, the thought of escaping the duties of the evening had crossed his mind, and he suspected one or two others!

He turned to the other four lab members "although all in all, that went pretty well, eh?" he gave Miss A a friendly elbow in the ribs "and nice save there, ma'am!"

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Dragonfly frowned, having abandoned her wall when it had - being a wall - failed to save her from people. Both arms were wrapped around her torso to minimize her already unimpressive size, but otherwise she seemed to be holding up okay. "...not as bad as expected," she admitted, watching the people enjoy themselves. "Excellent PR, I suspect. Should be able to do good things here. Good to have public support, anyway...they seem to enjoy giving it."

She glanced back toward the elevators, and grimaced. "Cannot possibly have taken that long to fire slime off her suit." took the easy way out - mmh - wish I'd thought of it

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Jessica pulled her armor out of the kiln, her hands stuck in thick mitts to protect her from the heat. She examined the piece carefully, brushing bits of vitrified slime monster back into the kiln, and when she was satisfied she slipped the armor back on, buttoning up the suit again. Before she returned to the lobby she stopped by a cabinet and pulled out a stack of warning labels. She stuck them all on the kiln; biohazard, radioactive, heat. cold, caustic, sharp object. She double-checked that the kiln door was locked and plastered more labels over the door seal. Either was being paranoid over the possibility of some particle of slim monster reanimating and running amok, or she was taking the only sensible precautions. In any case she started designing, in her head, a system to clean and disinfect her armor.

Satisfied that the situation was contained, she rode back up the elevator to the ground floor, stepping out just as Miss Americana welcomed the reporters inside. Her helmet was folded back and away, and as she walked up to Dragonfly she was grinning widely. "I missed the speech-making," she observed. "What a shame, isn't it?"

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"Ah yes" replied Supercape, trying very hard to look angry, but failing miserably. He couldn't wipe the smirk of his face. "You are clearly a very naughty and rebellious lady. Terrible. Terrible!" he continued, obviously not believing a word he said.

He scanned the crowd, who had started to mill around, looking at the various displays, and inventions that had been put up for the opening. Several reporters, and a sprinkling of scientists, businessmen, and politics were amongst the crowd, and a goodly proportion had seethed forward, eager to personally speak to the heroes.

"Of course, you didn't quite miss the meet and greet...clearly you mistimed your entrance..." he gave her wink "I mean your cleaning was fortunately swift enough not to evade...miss... this part!"

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Dragonfly glanced from her friend to the grouped reporters and civilians and back again, something like a wry grin tugging at the very corner of her mouth. revenge

"Yes," she agreed, a bit too loudly so that her voice would carry over the crowd, "a shame that Jessica Parker, Ironclad, of Dawes Tech was not here to make a speech. At least she's here to answer questions." That last bit was clearly directed at the gathered throng, though she was looking sideways at Jessica the whole time trying to keep a straight face.

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Catching on, Supercape smiled even more wickedly.

"What was that, Dragonfly? I didn't quite catch you first time. Did you say that Jessica Parker also known as Ironclad was Here to take all questions?"

He gave Dragonfly a conspiratorial wink, and desperately tried, like Dragonfly, to maintain a semblance of a straight face. Without much success.

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Jessica suppressed the urge to give her friend a raspberry. "Of course! I'd love to show folks around," she said, smiling broadly. "But not everyone at once. Shall we take, say, five or so?" She gestured to the nearest half-dozen reporters and lead them away, metal boots going click-clack on the tile floor. “This area,†she said, “is available to be rented out, for scientific or technical conferences. Located as we are in Hanover, we’re also looking into internships with the HIT and other colleges in the city.â€

“Will classes be taught here,†one of the reporters asked.

Jessica gave a small smile. This was one of the questions she had prepared for. “It would be impractical to shuttle students between the campus and the Lab. Which isn’t the say there won’t be field trips,†she added. “There’s some technology here that isn’t really available elsewhere in the city.â€

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Supercape was almost annoyed at the way the rapscallion slickly moved to intercept Dragonfly's trap. But he had it hand it to her. It was pretty Slick. "Schmooze mode" he muttered half to himself, and half to his fellow Lab mates, flashing them a smile.

Taking a leaf out of Jessica's book, he went to meet a few scientists and journalists himself, doing his best to avoid the more political slice of the crowd.

"Yes, as you can see, we have a large investment in educational facilities, at all levels, from schoolchildren to top level research... No... the particle smasher is quite safe, I can assure you. There have been no problems at all... well, I am afraid that's classified information Sir.... "

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Finding a few seconds to catch her breath between feilding several reporters' questions, Estelle was indeed somewhat disappointing to see Jessica was not in the least put out by Dragonfly and Cape's noble attempts at comeupance.

Ah well; points for effort, I suppose.

Slipping through the crowd with an Olympic swimmer's ease, the tall blonde made her way to the much shorter blonde's side.

"That was a wonderful speech, Fly; I really liked what you said about the Lab not being 'ours', that was well-phrased." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "So, do you want to take a break, sneak off and have a quiet glass of wine while the wolves tear poor Jessica apart?" She winked, keeping most of the smile off her socialite mask.

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Dragonfly slumped a little, sighing. "Yes. Glass of wine sounds fantastic." She glanced ruefully at where Ironclad had led her group away, but just shook her head. "Not a complete failure, at least. Should have guessed she'd do well, but keeping them busy if nothing else."

She was still a little hunched as they made their polite and sociable retreat, taking pains to not make actual contact with anyone left in the crowd. "Speech...thank you. Was worried about it. Number forty-seven...or so. The speech, I mean. Not as...gifted a speaker as some. Have to overcompensate with planning."

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"Speech...thank you. Was worried about it. Number forty-seven...or so. The speech, I mean. Not as...gifted a speaker as some. Have to overcompensate with planning."

Estelle nodded as she led the way into the elevator, punching in her floor. "Yes, I need to spruce up my material a bit; I’m afraid the Willy Wonka shtick has gone a bit stale." Sagging against the wall in a rare unguarded moment, she took a deep breath and let it out as a anguished groan. "Ohhhhh, these things get tiring; you start to feel like a robot after a while, nodding, smiling, shaking hands ad infinitum..." She flashed the younger scientist a sleepy grin. "At least we always have the work, right? The work keeps us sane."

The elevator came to a halt, and Dr. de Havilland's well-practiced facade slid back into place as she straightened up and strode purposefully to the door of her office, the laminated panel sliding back with a wave of her security card. In direct contrast to the building's overridingly sleek appearance, Gossamer had carefully selected several vintage pieces of furniture, including old filing cabinets, a roll-top desk and a high-backed leather wing chair to give her workplace a bit of old money class. She slipped out of her labcoat, which a helpful tendril hung on a coat rack as she sat at her desk, rolled back the top and woke up her PC to check her email.

"The bar is over there, next to the potted fichus; help yourself to whatever you want."

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Dragonfly poked her head into the room before entering completely, looking around with muttered appreciation for the style. "Classics. Antique or modern version...mmh. Nice. Most of mine's been taken over by work. Desk's almost a lab bench."

She made her way over to the bar, poking through until she found a nice bottle of wine that was good...but not so good one would feel guilty drinking it. Pulling the cork with the sort of ease that only comes from practice, she poured a couple glasses and delivered it to her colleague. "The National Minimum Drinking Age Act of 1984," she wryly toasted, raising her glass. "Prohibiting purchase, public possession, but not drinking."

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The crowds really were tedious, decided Supercape, as he explained for the fifth time how the particle smasher would definitely not cause a singularity to form and swallow up the earth in a black hole.

Thats almost impossible, he told himself.

Still, the Lab itself was fun and exciting, and he enthused about it, sometimes getting to technical and rubbing his hands at the prospect of all the wonderful devices and resources it had at its disposal. Some of it he was able to demonstrate in the expo hall, and he had to admit, it looked pretty impressive, with the crowds enjoying the displays of holograms, micro-weather controllers, the zero gravity room, and the x-ray goggles (as just some of the many examples).

He caught Ironclad's eye and gave her the thumbs up. It was going pretty well.

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"Classics. Antique or modern version...mmh. Nice. Most of mine's been taken over by work. Desk's almost a lab bench."

Gossamer shrugged as she trashed her junk mail. "I grew up around old things, and I find them very soothing." She indicated a door leading out of the room, right next to her private bathroom. "I do the real work through there, mostly in the visualization lab and the clean room." She sighed and shook her head. "It gets a little lonely up here; you enginners get all the fun toys." Estelle winked and flashed a grin to show she wasn't bitter.

"The National Minimum Drinking Age Act of 1984," she wryly toasted, raising her glass. "Prohibiting purchase, public possession, but not drinking."

The blonde chemist smiled as a slender tendril accepted the glass. "Ah, thank you. Well the way I figure it, if you're smart enough to design those gauntlets, you should be smart enough to hold your liqour on private property." She raised her glass in salute and brought it to her lips, then frowned slightly. "Although I have been wrong before..."

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Dragonfly sipped from her glass and snorted, shaking her head. "Am a lightweight. But smart enough to not drink enough to get drunk, anyway. Probably a very bad idea to get drunk, regardless. Would wake up in a lab I don't remember owning. Desk full of unknown gadgets or something." She gestured helplessly, raising an eyebrow. "Engineer toys are more fun when you know what they do."

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Dragonfly sipped from her glass and snorted, shaking her head. "Am a lightweight. But smart enough to not drink enough to get drunk, anyway. Probably a very bad idea to get drunk, regardless. Would wake up in a lab I don't remember owning. Desk full of unknown gadgets or something." She gestured helplessly, raising an eyebrow. "Engineer toys are more fun when you know what they do."

Gossamer shook her head sagely. "Ah, there is nothing sadder than the morning after a mad science bender; 'Who is this android powered down next to me, and why does my mouth taste like metal shavings?'" She quickly typed an email response, then closed out of her PC. Swiviling her chair around, she crossed her long legs and delicately held her glass in her fingers.

"I've always wondered how the techies live; for instance, what is your schedule like on a normal day? Do you set a certain time aside for biological functions or just sort of wing it?" Though here tone was mildly humorous, her blue eyes were bright with genuine interest.

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She just shook her head. "No. Wing it. How time gets divided depends on what I have to do that day - unfinished projects, deadlines, things I want to track down, crime-fighting I've prepared for. Try to split my time between my work, Lab work, hero work. Sometimes more successful at management than others. Meals sometimes get skipped...sleep often gets skipped. Necessity or neglect or headaches."

The young woman shrugged, apparently unbothered, and then blinked, realizing that last bit had no context whatsoever. "Mmh - chronic migraines," she added as if that explained everything, pointing at her head with one circling finger and unintentionally making the 'crazy' motion.

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"Meals sometimes get skipped...sleep often gets skipped. Necessity or neglect or headaches."

Estelle winced sympathetically. "Mmm, that's not good; forgive me for saying so, but better management of your diet, sleep and excercise might help with the headaches. There are also a few herbal remedies and vitamin supplements that have helped many people, though naturally there's still a lot of debate in the community on those." She shrugged. "Of course, that's assuming your body still follows the human baseline. One should never assume anything living in Freedom; I've met several people here who don't even have to eat or sleep."

Gossamer stretched her arms like a lazy cat and her hair followed suit, twisting and coiling like saltwater taffy.

"Sadly I'm not one of those people; other than my rather bizarre filamentous biomaterial, my body seems to behave much as it always has, for better or for worse." She drained her glass and frowned. "Did you see what kind of food they're serving downstairs? All this talk of biological needs is making me hungry!"

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Dragonfly had been working on her glass as she listened, ruefully shaking her head as she put the mostly-empty glass down. "Wouldn't help. Known cause, not food-related. Should probably be better about food and sleep, of course. But head would hurt regardless."

She raised an eyebrow, adjusting one of her gauntlets and looking back at the door. "Agree about the catering, though. Shame to not at least try it. What's the phrase...'once more into the breach'?"

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"Wouldn't help. Known cause, not food-related. Should probably be better about food and sleep, of course. But head would hurt regardless."

Estelle nodded sharply, fairly sure she'd just wandered into a well-guarded area of her labmate's personal life. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry; I find scientific curiosity and good manners are often at odds with one another."

"Agree about the catering, though. Shame to not at least try it. What's the phrase...'once more into the breach'?"

The chemist set aside her glass and rose gracefully from her chair. "Yes, a few lines from Henry the Fifth certainly do seem to apply: 'For he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile, this day shall gentle his condition.'" She laughed at the sentement as she fetched her labcoat from the rack and coiled her braid back into place. "'We few, we happy few.' Come on then, let's see if the ravaging hordes left any cold cuts in their wake."

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Dragonfly grumbled something about crowds, but the break - and the small drink - had apparently done her some good; while still not awfully social, by the time they'd gotten back down to the ongoing goings on she at least looked at lot less like a mouse surrounded by hungry lizards. No time was wasted grabbing a plate and stocking a pretty decent amount of food for her small frame, and while she couldn't avoid all the questions lobbed her way she could at least wave a few of them off with the excuse of a full mouth.

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Supercape had finally managed to excuse himself from the throng downstairs. The crowds were thinning slightly now, aware that the main PR event was over. The expo hall was still extremely popular and many were still wandering the various interactive displays - and probably would be for some time given the murmurs of appreciation and applause that greeted the various booths.

Resisting the urge to teleport out for a quick getaway, he politely handed over the proceedings to some of the admin and PR staff, before taking one of the three lifts to the upper level. He had the urge to debrief with his fellow Lab-mates, wherever they had got too...

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Meanwhile, in an unclaimed corner apartment on the 7th floor, Archeville had kept up his end by monitoring all security feeds and making sure everyone was on the up-and-up. (Though security was on the 4th floor, he knew that was going to be part of the tour, and since he didn't want to be seen, he used a bit of wireless gadgetry to monitor them from this apartment.) Surrounded by images of the camera feeds projected from his electromagnetic screwdriver, his inhumanly fast mind took in all the security scans, a sensation he was not unfamiliar with but tried to limit himself on, for fear of misuse. For now, though, he was content to sit back, pop open a second can of root beer, and take it all in; it would take hours for the grin to fade from his face.

This is sooo nice!

"," he thought out loud, in his native German, ""

He manipulated the controls, and one window flicked to and stayed on the two scientists. ""

Ah, soo glad my Other is gone; there would be no end to the off-color comments it would be making!

Archeville continued monitoring all the security feeds. As he did, another thought popped into his head.

This is a good setup they have here. Solid scientific work, local, not spread out like ArcheTech. Lets them focus on what they want to do, far less bureaucratic red tape to work through. Maybe... they would let me set up my own place here? Not much, just a small one, a place to get away from the pressures of ArcheTech... a 'summer home' laboratory. It would have to be under an assumed name, of course, so the media would not get word that I am working here, and rumors and speculation fly about my role in this place. Ah, but making a fake ID, one able to stand up to at least casual media scrutiny... tricky work. Maybe keep the whole deal anonymous? No, probably best if I do not -- too much risk of it slipping, and then the rumors and speculation.
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