There's A Little Grue In All Of Us (IC)

[Geez3r]

Date: January 15th, 2011

Atlas had been back in Freedom City for a couple of weeks and things were starting to return to normalcy. He had been out on patrol without ordinary citizens running from him. The fact that he was mind controlled and not responsible for his actions during the Invasion was thankfully starting to take root in people's minds. Coming back from one such patrol, Atlas was surprised to see a message from one of his old contacts, Gossamer, on his voice mail. Apparently, during his absence, many of the egg heads in the area had pooled their resources and constructed a rather large Laboratory, for use on joint study. Now that she had free access to her own facilities, she wanted to make good on a promise she had made a long time ago. The fact that Atlas's origin as a Grue-human hybrid had come to light may have had something to do with it as well.

On the agreed upon date, Atlas made his way to The Lab in his human form, and immediately felt quite lost as he stood in the lobby. Science had always amazed him. Even more amazing was the fact that they were able to slap this building up so quickly.

[Dr Archeville]

Atlas heard the stomping of metal feet on the uncarpeted lobby floor, and turned to see some sort of mechanical man approaching. Its body was gold, with silvery chrome power cables snaking up and down its limbs and torso like exposed musculature. Crystal lenses adorned the forehead, shoulderpieces, and chest, and its head had two large, flat superstructures projecting from either side. Its visual sensors glowed greenish-yellow.

Organic being detected. Subject unknown.

Scanning... no weapons detected. No obvious metahuman powers detected.

Threat Assessment: Minimal.

Conclusion: Engage "Meet and Greet" subroutines.

"Greetings, human," it said in a clear and easy to understand, precise and electronic-sounding voice, with relatively little inflection and no accent. "I am Protectron. How are you? Do you require assistance?"

[Geez3r]

"...Uuuuhhh..." replied Atlas intelligently. "Uh, yeah. I- I am good. I have an appointment with Dr. Estelle de Haviland." said Atlas attempting to regain his composure. He opted to go without the accent as he was unsure if the robot would correct him on his "bad" pronunciation, and he was trying to do this as incognito as possible, speaking with an accent makes you stand out. Usually anyways. "The name's Samael Nitorvich, if you need it." continued Atlas a little unsure. He thought Protectron here was one of those guide bots they showed in all those sci-fi movies, but in this city you're never sure.

[Dr Archeville]

"One moment, please," Protectron intoned.

Observation: I could access Friend-Doctor de Havilland's intranet calendar and confirm Samael Nitorvich's appointment. However, such an act may be misconstrued as an invasion of privacy.

Observation: Cyberkinetic Interface subroutines remain offline, so such action is impossible. Thus, the subject is moot.

Establishing radio contact... ERROR: Unable to establish radio contact. Onboard communications systems currently unable to transmit, only receive.

It turned its head towards the receptionist's desk,

Alternative communications system located.

And trod towards it on clanking metal feet. "Friend-Doctor de Havilland," it intoned through The Lab's communications system, "there is a Samael Nitorvich here to see you. He says he has an appointment. Shall I escort him to your laboratory, or will you come down to meet him?"

[Heritage]

Upstairs in her visualization lab, part of a an extensive laboratory suite she maintained on the twelfth floor, Dr de Havilland was wearing a pair of sleek VR gloves that she was using to manipulate the holographic representation of a long string molecules, which hung like leftover holiday garlands in the air; with a flick of her wrist, she sent a few carbon atoms spinning off into the corner, where they dutifully popped out of existance. She wore her usual labcoat over her blue-and-silver bodysuit, her golden hair coiled down her back in her prefered braid; the look was a bit flashy, to be honest, but it was surprisingly comfortable indoors.

"Doctor de Havilland," it intoned through The Lab's communications system, "there is a Samael Nitorvich here to see you. He says he has an appointment. Shall I escort him to your laboratory, or will you come down to meet him?"

With a start, her bright blue eyes darted over to the clock on the wall, and she cursed softly; she really hated when she fell into the absent-minded professor cliche.

"I'll be right down," she called into the air. "Save sim 119 into project folder." She slipped off the gloves, which powered down the imaging system, and casually tossed them into a drawer in an old file cabinet, which she bumped closed with her hip as she headed for the hall. Even in a workplace this modern, she felt a few classic pieces of furniture lent an air of class.

In a matter of seconds, the high speed elevator brought her down to the lobby which she strode across to meet her guest, the heels of her boots clicking smartly on the tile. She smiled warmly at the handsome Russian hero standing there, and offered a firm friendly handshake.

"So wonderful to see you again, Sam, and thank you for making yourself available! Have you eaten? I can have lunch sent up to my office."

[Geez3r]

Atlas kind of hovered a little uncomfortably as Protectron made his call to Gossamer, unsure if he should engage the robot in small talk while they waited for Gossamer to make her way down to the lobby. He was relieved to hear the sound of clacking hells on the floor rapidly approaching them. Atlas returned her handshake with a smile "The pleasure's all mine, I assure you." He was a bit surprised to see how professional she looked. Well surprised probably isn't the right word. It's just that super heroes spent so much of their time dressed like idiots you kind of forget that they actually have careers outside of their hero work. He unconsciously smiled realizing that he didn't have much room to talk either as he spent most of hero time in attire that would let him fit right in a Calvin Klein commercial. "No thank you, I ate before I came here. So, now that we're here, think you can start explaining what you've got planned? I know you said some stuff on the phone, but you used a bit of technobabble, and I got lost pretty darn quickly."

[Dr Archeville]

Observation: Based on facial expressions and vocal inflections and tones, Friend-Doctor de Havilland and Samael Nitorvich appear to be in an established friend dynamic.

The cheerful (in its own way) robot looked back and forth between Gossamer and Atlas as offers of food were made and declined. But then something else caught its unusual mind.

Observation: Nitorvich "gets lost" when dealing with "techobabble."

Hypothesis: Nitorvich is unfamiliar with scientific and technical fields.

Proposed Solution: Assist by explaining advanced concepts in simpler terms.

Primary Goal: Aid Friends in The Lab, and their friends.

Secondary Goal: Aid and preserve as much organic life as possible.

It turned to Atlas, "Samael Nitorvich, may I be of assistance? Though my knowledgebases are incomplete, I may be able to help bridge certain communication gaps between you and Friend-Doctor de Havilland."

[Geez3r]

"Uhhhh. yeah sure. That'd be okay I guess." said Atlas again uncertainly. He had thought that the robot was indeed one of those service bot things from the movies when Dr. de Haviland didn't introduce the two of them, assuming that the robot wasn't worth the introduction you would give a human. Maybe it was programmed to be as helpful as it could in all scenarios? Seems like something they would need here because they were likely doing something different every week or something, and they didn't have the time to reprogram all of them. Or at least Atlas had assumed there was a them. As of right now, he had only seen one of them. Dr. de Haviland felt a soft prod at her mind as Atlas's voice was suddenly in her head. "So what's the deal with the robot here?" He really didn't like using his mental powers all that much, but this was really, really awkward.

[Heritage]

"No thank you, I ate before I came here. So, now that we're here, think you can start explaining what you've got planned? I know you said some stuff on the phone, but you used a bit of technobabble, and I got lost pretty darn quickly."

Estelle chuckled self-consciously. “Ah, sorry about that; I can get a bit technical when I’m excited.â€

"Samael Nitorvich, may I be of assistance? Though my knowledgebases are incomplete, I may be able to help bridge certain communication gaps between you and Friend-Doctor de Havilland."

Sadly, Doctor de Havilland wasn’t quite sure how to deal with something like Protectron; to her way of thinking, it was basically just a highly-advanced robot, but many of the staff and even visitors like Dr Archeville apparently had no problems dealing with it as a person, which completely went against every instinct she had. The lack of facial expression, vocal intonation and body language played havoc with her well-trained social radar, leaving her flustered and confused.

“Oh, I don’t, ah, I don’t think that will be necessary, Protectron; I’m fairly well versed in human communication, and I think…uh…â€

"So what's the deal with the robot here?"

At first, the brainy blonde was somewhat startled by the alien thoughts forming in her head, though at the same time she was deeply relieved to have a back door open to converse through; she did her best to send a message back Sam’s way.

Oh dear god, it makes me so uncomfortable! I never know what to say around it!

[Dr Archeville]

Observation: Friend de Havilland has trailed off in speech.

Analysis: Previous observations indicate this is an atypical condition, as Friend de Havilland is one of the most articulate members of The Lab.

Hypotheses: Distraction from Lab work. Distraction by visitor Samael Nitorvich. Illness.

Possibility of disease among organics would require medical assistance form another Lab-Friend, due to personal unfamiliarity with medical matters. Further observation required.

The faintest of whirring sounds could just barley be heard in the robot's head.

Observation: Infrared scanners detect Friend de Havilland is experiencing a mild increase in temperature.

Hypothesis: Illness. Further observation indicated.

Alternative Hypothesis: Attraction to Samael Nitorvich. Further observation contraindicated, due to humans desire for privacy in such settings.

Conclusion: Ask if aid is required. If Friend de Havilland is not feeling well, she would ask for help. If she is attracted to Samael Nitorvich, she will decline in order to have 'personal time' with target of affection.

"If there is nothing either of you require from me," it said flatly, "then I shall resume interactions with visiting organic beings in the Lab Expo Center and Lobby."

[Geez3r]

Atlas was all set to shoo the robot away and move on with his day, when he was suddenly hit by a twinge of guilt. If he was to ignore this robot for the sake of being awkward, he'd be really, really hypocritical. He was part alien, and he had the speed dial for a demon, a witch, a vampire and a zombie. Yet this was an awkward situation. They were even calling the robot "it". Pot calling the kettle black at its finest. "Well if you're going to work here, might as well learn. And you never know, he could wind up picking up some human mannerisms if we interact enough with him. Or at least that's how it works in the movies." said Atlas mentally to Gossamer.

"Nah, you can tag along... uh, Protectron was it?" said Atlas as he extended his hand to the robot.

[Heritage]

"Well if you're going to work here, might as well learn. And you never know, he could wind up picking up some human mannerisms if we interact enough with him. Or at least that's how it works in the movies."

Gossamer resisted the urge to sigh as she sent back a mildly frustrated thought.

Well, if you insist on playing the 'basic human decency' card...

"Nah, you can tag along... uh, Protectron was it?"

With a bit of effort, Estelle managed to smile politely at the unnerving robot.

"Of course, you're more than welcome to come along, Protectron; actually, we might have use of your sensory apparatus. If you two would care to follow me..?"

The blonde heroine led them back to the elevator, swiped her security card, and hit the button for the eighth floor.

[Dr Archeville]

The golden robot nodded at Samael, "correct, I am Protectron."

It followed Gossamer as instructed.

Alert: Friend Dragonfly and Friend Miss Americana have informed me I am only permitted to enter sublevel -1 through level 5. Sub-levels -2 and below, and floors 6 and above, are off-limits for me.

Hypothesis: Though Friend de Havilland was not present during my arrival at The Lab, cooperative and collaborative nature of The Lab implies she would know of the security limitations imposed upon me.

Observation: Friend de Havilland is a founding member of The Lab, and has invited me into her personal laboratory.

Analysis: High probability of increasing knowledge about organic life in her biochemical laboratory.

Hypothesis: Friend de Havilland

1) does not know of my security limitations, or
2) is aware but is implicitly allowing me to access her personal laboratories and workspaces.

Conclusion: It is easier to obtain forgiveness than permission. I shall accompany Friend de Havilland and Samael Nitorvich to her laboratory.

Protectron's calculations were wrong. As the elevator passed the fifth floor, his unauthorized presence tripped the magnetogravitic snare defense system, which pinned him to the back wall of the elevator car!

SYSTEM ALERT. SYSTEM ALERT.

"Assistance required," it said flatly. "Magnetic and gravitic energies used in Lab's defense system compromising performance and integrity of multiple key systems. System physical damage as yet minimal, but 95% likelihood of system functions going offline within 30 seconds, with 10 seconds variance from default prediction."

[Geez3r]

There have been awkward elevator rides since elevators had first been invented. But this had to be one of the weirder ones by a really large margin. For a moment there Atlas just stood facing the doors, sticking his mental probes back into his noggin, not needing them for the time being. And then when the alarm system came online, he practically jumped out of his skin. It was an old habit he was never quite able to break; he has a terrible jump reflex when he's startled. He prayed to god every night that Avenger or Jack of all Blades never learned of that particular weakness. Bodiless computers were even worse, alarm systems in particular.

Realizing he wasn't in any particular danger, he turned to Dr. Haviland half shouting "Turn it off!" as he tried to peel Protectron off the wall.

[Heritage]

"Assistance required," it said flatly. "Magnetic and gravitic energies used in Lab's defense system compromising performance and integrity of multiple key systems. System physical damage as yet minimal, but 95% likelihood of system functions going offline within 30 seconds, with 10 seconds variance from default prediction."

It took a lot to make Estelle de Havilland scream; she considered herself both logical and level-headed, and most of the time handled the curveballs life through at her with good humor and aplomb. However the sight of the mechanical man slammed immobile against the wall of the elevator, his robotic voice tonelessly reciting the nature of his distress, caught her completely off-guard, and a high-pitched shriek popped unbidden out her mouth.

"Aiiieee!"

"Turn it off!"

Frantic fingers scrabbled for the security card dangling from the lanyard around her neck, which gaily danced and swung this way and that; so much for level-headed!

"I'm trying, I'm trying!"

With an angry grunt, the blonde heroine sent the full mass of her hair smack into the control panel like a hundred pounds of cooked spaghetti dropped off a roof, effectively hitting every button at once and bringing the elevator to a lurching halt. An alarm bell rang somewhere up the shaft as Gossamer finally wrangled her card, swiped it, and hit the button for the lobby. Seconds later, the car was heading back down and the alarm ceased its clamorous wailing.

Hands on her knees, Estelle took several long slow breaths to slow her heart rate back down to normal.

"Sorry about that, I now...dimly recall a memo...meant to prevent this very thing." Her blue eyes flicked apologetically from the now-freed robot and her Russian guest. "Regrettable."

[Dr Archeville]

When the car went below the 6th floor, the magnet shut off, and the strange robot fell to the ground.

Magnetic and gravitic interference has stopped. Surveying damage...

Conclusion: Damage to hardware negligible. Damage to software minor. Running defragment processes now.

When the car stopped at the lobby, Protectron rose.

"Your swift actions are appreciated, Friend-de Havilland" it said flatly. "Systems are operating at adequate levels, and will return to nominal condition in under one minute. May I suggest you use this time to access The Lab's security systems and program it to give me temporary access to this elevator, your biochemistry laboratory, and any paths between the two?"

[Geez3r]

"I have to admit this is turning out to be one of the more interesting trips I've had to a doctor's office." remarked Sam wryly as they got back into the lobby. He said it all in good fun, but he didn't really want to run the topic into the ground. He set a mental note to try to remember to ask Dr. Haviland how on earth her face wasn't bright fuchsia after all this, especially after having to walk through the lobby that they had left just a moment ago. And it's not like they were just some anonymous group. The girl with 8ft of golden hair and the robot tend to attract a good deal of attention. Sam wasn't sure if he had attracted any attention. He had a relatively plain looking face, so even though it was plastered everywhere after the Grue Invasion, many people don't recognize him on sight anymore.

[Heritage]

"Your swift actions are appreciated, Friend-de Havilland" it said flatly. "Systems are operating at adequate levels, and will return to nominal condition in under one minute. May I suggest you use this time to access The Lab's security systems and program it to give me temporary access to this elevator, your biochemistry laboratory, and any paths between the two?"

Estelle nodded as she activated a small touchscreen and rapidly tapped in a few commands. "This should only take a moment." Satisfied she'd finally rectified the situation, she once more punched in her floor; and sighed as she leaned against the wall, fingers crossed.

"I have to admit this is turning out to be one of the more interesting trips I've had to a doctor's office."

The blonde chemist chuckled, crooked her arm enthusiastically and spoke like a 1950s TV announcer.

"Well there's no such thing as a normal day at the Lab!" The elevator arrived safely at their destination, and Protectron was none the worse for wear. Dr. de Havilland moved briskly to the door of her personal lab, which opened to another card swipe. “Actually it’s normally not terribly interesting, at least not in my neck of the woods.â€

Her suite of rooms proved to be an intriguing mixture of modern architecture and vintage furnishings, with a roll-top desk, filing cabinets and a bankers lamp. Estelle called back over her shoulder as she strode into the next room, a well-furnished biochemistry lab.

“If it’s all right with you, Sam, we’ll start with a few tissue samples.â€

[Geez3r]

"You're the Doctor." said Atlas with a shrug as he walked into the lab, nodding in appreciation at the decor. His own living spaces tended to be a bit more bare. Mostly because it was a pain to find furniture in his size. And now that he could freely change his size and shape, it felt wasteful to buy bigger furniture, and everything would seem out of place if he got smaller furniture. Not entirely sure of what precisely he was supposed to be doing, he plopped himself down on a stool in the room and took to observing his surroundings. Why is it that every time I visit a friend's place I feel like I'm clueless? Well probably because I am... Dok and Goss here have the whole science shtick and Phantom's got all the mystic ooga-booga crap. I need to... what do they call it...? Expand my horizons? mused Atlas internally as he was waiting for Estelle to do whatever she was going to do.

[Dr Archeville]

Status Report: Defragmentation complete. All systems check out at optimal efficiency.

If Protectron felt any hesitation or anxiety about going back up in the elevator, its metal frame and expressionless face did not convey it. When the doors opened, it slowly stepped through, then remained motionless as it panned its optics over the entire room.

"Thank you for disabling the security system, Friend-de Havilland," it said flatly.

Observation: Friend-de Havilland's personal suites, while in the same modern layout as the rest of The Lab's modern spaces, contain what appear to be furnishings categorized as 'vintage.'

Query: Did Friend-de Havilland supply her own furniture? Brought over from previous post at ASTRO Labs? Or was this provided for her?

Observation: Light sources appear inadequate and inefficient.

It followed the two into the actual workspace, again pausing once it passed through the doorway and silently scanning the room.

Observation: This is a very well-stocked biochemical laboratory.

Observation: While Friend-Miss Americana's knowledge of human anatomy is top rate, Friend-de Havilland's knowledge of the biochemical processes of organic life forms is broader in scope. There is much I could learn from her.

"May I assist in any way?," the strange robot asked after making its scan of the room.

[Heritage]

"You're the Doctor."

Estelle wagged a finger as she put on a pair of splash-resistant goggles. "I am a doctor. For the record, I'm not a licenced medical practioner; I have a doctorate in organic chemistry and minored in biochem as an undergrad. Not quite the same thing."

Snapping on a pair of latex gloves, she grinned as she fetched an individually-wrapped syringe from a drawer.

"Lucky for you, I also volunteered with the Red Cross during their on-campus blood drives."

"May I assist in any way?," the strange robot asked after making its scan of the room.

The blonde chemist nodded as she tore open the package. "Mmmm, yes I think so; are you familiar with autoclaves and centrifuges? If so, you can prep some test tubes for our samples."

A long golden tendril zipped across the room to fetch a small rubber ball, which she dropped in Sam's hand, while a second slightly thicker tendril wrapped itself around his bicep as a tourniquet.

"First, we need to find your vein; please give that a few squeezes, if you would. Then I'm going to take blood samples from you, both before and after you assume another form to see if your blood undergoes any changes when you change."

[Geez3r]

Sam just shrugged. "You know bigger words of a medical nature than I do, that's close enough. Most of the doctors I've dealt with were strong proponents of the walk it off philosophy, so you're already quite a few notches up from that by using sterilized equipment." related Sam.

He snorted a bit at the Red Cross line. "If you can't find a vein in my arm, you need to hang up the lab coat there Doc." said Sam with a grin as he rolled back his sleeve, revealing a pretty prominent vein running the length of his forearm. Once the rather unique tourniquet was in place and he began squeezing the ball as instructed, it wasn't long until he pretty much had the perfect practice arm for new nurses.

"Don't be afraid to just jab it in now, I'm still tougher than I look." cautioned Sam.

[Dr Archeville]

Autoclave: a device used to sterilize equipment and supplies by subjecting them to high pressure saturated steam at 121 ^oC or more, typically for 15–20 minutes depending on the size of the load and the contents.

Centrifuge: a device that puts an object in rotation around a fixed axis, applying a force perpendicular to the axis. The centrifuge works using the sedimentation principle, where the centripetal acceleration causes more dense substances to separate out along the radial direction (the bottom of the tube), and lighter objects will tend to move to the center (the top of the tube).

"Affirmative, Friend-de Havilland," the strange robot said flatly, then turned sharply and marched towards the rack of test tubes. It picked up several, then marched towards the autoclave and began to process them.

Observation: Friend-de Havilland's hair is very animate. And atypically long.

Queries: How is animation achieved? Was she born with this ability, or is it the result of something that happened to her later in life? If the result of some external event, was said event deliberate or accidental?

Hypotheses: Telekinetic force along each strand? Or is her hair not hair in the traditional sense, but rather more akin to cilia or flagella?

[Heritage]

"Don't be afraid to just jab it in now, I'm still tougher than I look."

Estelle nodded. "Right then, I'll just use brute strength." She turned to look over her shoulder at Protectron. "The tubes should be ready by now; that's an ArcheTech high-speed autoclave, which saves a lot of time."

The hairweaver sent forth several tendrils to take a few sample tubes, holding them at the ready as she went to work. Her sensitive hairs gently stroked the surface of Sam's arm, easily detecting his strong pulse; she expertly slid the needle below the skin and filled up first one tube, then another, and a third. Once finished, she swabbed the area with an alcohol wipe, then pressed a cotton ball over the tiny hole and taped it in place with white surgical tape, while thin golden extremities placed the samples in a rack.

"Now I'd like you to assume another humanoid form, if you please; pick anything you like." She tore open another syringe. "I'll need to stick you again, I'm afraid; we can't contaminate the sample by using the same needle."

[Geez3r]

Sam blinked a few times unconciously as Dr. Haviland went about collecting the blood samples. Seeing the look of concern flash across Haviland's face, Sam explained "Sorry, just not used to seeing too much of my blood I guess. And it feels weird to not be punching someone or something when its happening." he added with a shrug. He pondered for a moment of what to change into. He didn't want to assume his standard Atlas form because that was a little too big for this room. He could fit in it fine, he was just worried about smooshing something expensive.

"Well if you insist on continuing to stab me, I'm gonna make this weird." said Atlas as his skin began to peel back and reveal none other than Dr. Haviland. This time "Sam" looked a lot different from when he had first assumed Gossamer's form. He seemed to be a little generous with the muscle tone, and this time the hair he had was animate instead of just hanging there. "Now if we don't get some kind of result with this, I think we can just throw science out the window." "he" said absentmindedly as several small tendrils of hair set about straightening the lab coat "he" was now wearing.