DANGER (can't be put in the corner) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
heartlessglitch) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2014-04-30 11:56 pm
heartlessglitch) wrote in maskormenacelogs2014-04-30 11:56 pm
little robots in ringback tones.
WHO: danger & YOU!
WHERE: various locations around heropa and cape canaveral!
WHEN: 05/01-05/03.
WHAT: robot lady adventures in spicy food and terrorists!
WARNINGS: tbd.
a: local park (morning/organic form)
[ Danger's organic body was, truthfully, not as different from her mechanical container as one might have imagined. There were certainly stark contrasts-- but this body required maintenance, just as much as her armored chassis did. Besides, when the recent attempts on her psychiatrist's life, she'd had a lot on her mind, to say the least. She needed time to herself to think. So she took her human-like form out to run, early in the morning before the heat and the sun became too harsh. Her path took her through the Heropa's residential area, out to the local park.
But she wasn't doing much running at the moment. A progressive pain in her right leg had grown intense enough that even the self-titled war machine needed a moment on a bench, hands kneading the muscle as she attempted to assess herself. Analysis was easier with a computerized brain-- the kind of brain that didn't feel pain to begin with.
It could end up being a long (limping) walk home. ]
b: food truck (afternoon/organic form)
[ It had been easier to force herself to experiment with foods when she'd had a companion with a more adventurous palate-- but with fellow robot Steve counted among those lost between this universe and the last, science and progress had to be the motivation for what Danger had come to think of as tests. Despite having lived in her organic body on and off for months on months now, she was still gastronomically inexperienced, so to speak. Partially through her own unwillingness to put anything too unusual into her mouth. Taste was one sense she was still adjusting to. It was still new.
But after the incident at the house-- the one where a sadistic housemate had decided to serve weaponized tofu for dinner-- she had become determined to adapt. To educate herself. To increase her tolerance through trial by culinary fire.
Danger stood outside an Indian food truck with a styrofoam container full of curry, staring into its depths as though she might be able to pick it apart with her mind if she stared long enough. In her human-like body, it was impossible to ignore the strong smell (foreign to her, and burning ever so slightly at her sinuses). This was the being that had single-handedly thrown half a dozen of the finest X-Men around like rag dolls, facing off with a cup of spicy curry as though it were an unstable nuclear reactor.
Finally, she lifted a spoonful to her mouth. For a long moment, she didn't chew. Or swallow. Or do much of anything besides stand there. Still. Eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Seconds ticked by-- and unceremoniously, the unknowable and infinite entity that called herself "Danger" parted her lips to let that spoonful of curry slowly fall from her mouth onto the sidewalk. ]
c: cape canaveral streets (night/robotic form)
[ This situation was not ideal. Of course, being a robot, she was calculating and considering any number of possible resolutions to the circumstances at hand. Though it was complicated by the fact that her suspect-- a man in a hoodie, average, tachycardic, body temperature rising-- was currently holding a handgun to the head of a homeless civilian, who in turn looked approximately two seconds from passing out. ]
Stand down.
I am a government agent, and I am authorized to negotiate on your behalf if you release the hostage.
[ Though it was getting more likely that if the suspect didn't quickly bend to her demands, she would be forced to utilize any number of the weapons at her disposal to neutralize him. That would mean paperwork later, and dealing with politics. This was, after all, Homeland Security she was working for. There were some liberties she could take, certainly, but still.
It needed to be dealt with as cleanly as possible. It was lucky enough that the late hour meant there wasn't a gawking crowd about, even exposed out on the street like this. ]
Drop your weapon.
I will not repeat my request again.
WHERE: various locations around heropa and cape canaveral!
WHEN: 05/01-05/03.
WHAT: robot lady adventures in spicy food and terrorists!
WARNINGS: tbd.
a: local park (morning/organic form)
[ Danger's organic body was, truthfully, not as different from her mechanical container as one might have imagined. There were certainly stark contrasts-- but this body required maintenance, just as much as her armored chassis did. Besides, when the recent attempts on her psychiatrist's life, she'd had a lot on her mind, to say the least. She needed time to herself to think. So she took her human-like form out to run, early in the morning before the heat and the sun became too harsh. Her path took her through the Heropa's residential area, out to the local park.
But she wasn't doing much running at the moment. A progressive pain in her right leg had grown intense enough that even the self-titled war machine needed a moment on a bench, hands kneading the muscle as she attempted to assess herself. Analysis was easier with a computerized brain-- the kind of brain that didn't feel pain to begin with.
It could end up being a long (limping) walk home. ]
b: food truck (afternoon/organic form)
[ It had been easier to force herself to experiment with foods when she'd had a companion with a more adventurous palate-- but with fellow robot Steve counted among those lost between this universe and the last, science and progress had to be the motivation for what Danger had come to think of as tests. Despite having lived in her organic body on and off for months on months now, she was still gastronomically inexperienced, so to speak. Partially through her own unwillingness to put anything too unusual into her mouth. Taste was one sense she was still adjusting to. It was still new.
But after the incident at the house-- the one where a sadistic housemate had decided to serve weaponized tofu for dinner-- she had become determined to adapt. To educate herself. To increase her tolerance through trial by culinary fire.
Danger stood outside an Indian food truck with a styrofoam container full of curry, staring into its depths as though she might be able to pick it apart with her mind if she stared long enough. In her human-like body, it was impossible to ignore the strong smell (foreign to her, and burning ever so slightly at her sinuses). This was the being that had single-handedly thrown half a dozen of the finest X-Men around like rag dolls, facing off with a cup of spicy curry as though it were an unstable nuclear reactor.
Finally, she lifted a spoonful to her mouth. For a long moment, she didn't chew. Or swallow. Or do much of anything besides stand there. Still. Eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Seconds ticked by-- and unceremoniously, the unknowable and infinite entity that called herself "Danger" parted her lips to let that spoonful of curry slowly fall from her mouth onto the sidewalk. ]
c: cape canaveral streets (night/robotic form)
[ This situation was not ideal. Of course, being a robot, she was calculating and considering any number of possible resolutions to the circumstances at hand. Though it was complicated by the fact that her suspect-- a man in a hoodie, average, tachycardic, body temperature rising-- was currently holding a handgun to the head of a homeless civilian, who in turn looked approximately two seconds from passing out. ]
Stand down.
I am a government agent, and I am authorized to negotiate on your behalf if you release the hostage.
[ Though it was getting more likely that if the suspect didn't quickly bend to her demands, she would be forced to utilize any number of the weapons at her disposal to neutralize him. That would mean paperwork later, and dealing with politics. This was, after all, Homeland Security she was working for. There were some liberties she could take, certainly, but still.
It needed to be dealt with as cleanly as possible. It was lucky enough that the late hour meant there wasn't a gawking crowd about, even exposed out on the street like this. ]
Drop your weapon.
I will not repeat my request again.
no subject
Oh. Yes, well. What do you feel like, something sweet or savory? You know what, tell me what you don't like.
no subject
Finally, with a careful choice of words: ]
Dr. Pym, I find digestion as a general process to be unpleasant. My foray into foods is primarily experimental in nature. I rarely find genuine pleasure in the activity of eating.
no subject
It's not the act of eating that brings you pleasure. It's tasting! Or so I've been told. Some days, I just shovel--
[ And he does so, shovels a forkful of funnel cake in his mouth then decisively place the plate and fork in Danger's hands so that he can't take it back. His mouth being preoccupied with food, he gestures at Danger to try. ]
no subject
Still, it seems rude to say all that when Hank is so enthusiastically demonstrating for her. And inviting her to participate. Her lack of social skills might have inclined her to refuse outright, but there is a certain innocent sincerity to his gesture that stalls her rejection.
At length, very slowly, she takes the fork and spears a very small piece of funnel cake. Eying it suspiciously, as if she thinks it might explode or attempt to attack her, she squints at the little morsel before cautiously lifting it to her mouth. Her lips close around the fork and stay there for a long moment before she finally withdraws the utensil, her eyebrows pinching in perplexity. The cake melts in her mouth, leaving behind a light sweetness on her tongue. It is, surprisingly, not terrible. ]
...What was that, Dr. Pym?
no subject
After the food has been in her mouth for more than a minute, Hank smiles widely. It's always an enlightening experience to watch someone experience something new, have their horizons expanded. He had watched it happen with William, the joy on his little furry face at the first taste of peanut butter. It's a good reminder there's always novel things out there. And watching Danger now, a machine who could process things at speeds much higher than his own, resets that reminder. ]
This is a caramel apple funnel cake. It's a sweet dessert that you can get over there at the Dynamite Cake [ He helpfully points out the food truck further down the road ] Did you like it? I'm guessing yes since you didn't spit it out that you did.
no subject
Hank though, is smiling-- and she's noticed it. Is he pleased that she's pleased? ]
Yes. I think that I did like it. Somewhat unexpectedly. [ The official verdict, spoken on carefully enunciated syllables. It's rare that she expresses that kind of positive reaction, but it seems deserved, given the circumstances. ] I am appreciative, Dr. Pym. This has been very educational.
no subject
Not a problem, Danger. I'm glad you liked it. You might not find it as pleasurable as I might but hey, maybe you will once you expand your palate more.
[ So proud. Of himself. ]