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open log » ❝ The VR Program ❞

Date & Time: August 5th, mid morning.
Location: Anywhere characters happen to be/the VR.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: From August 5th to August 8th, characters are plunged involuntarily into the VR Program.
Warnings: Potential violence within the threads.

When the chance arises, she's quick to take it. The programming is incomplete, she knows; the simulation isn't ready — but she's not likely to get another shot at it. And so she moves, slipping through security codes to input the command. The machines hum to life with nothing but a flicker of a green light in a dark room, and it takes only seconds to establish connections. The signal is sent out; the weapons respond.

In a single pulse, reality drops away.

There will be darkness at first as the mind realigns itself to the signals being sent it. Slowly, the darkness fades, forms take shape. People take shape. The setting is terribly familiar, plucked from the user's own mind. It might feel like a dream at first, with events playing out as if predestined, the would-be dreamer moving through a familiar and unalterable route in them. But as things begin to feel more and more realistic, as more senses more fully connect to the simulation, awareness will change. This is not a dream. This is more than a memory.

Welcome to the VR.

Only 20 minutes later, in some underground quarters, Doctor Sponde is roused from an undignified sprawl. He's hastily briefed and shuttled toward the command center, looking grim. He knows the problem demands an immediate fix, but… well, this is some complex machinery. It could take some time. It could take days. He gets to work.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Fuck if I know. Here, you want a gun? [ He's got some guns he found and grenades he made and he's reasonably sure that they can get to the next section. ] Think we're supposed to get through that door over there.

If I must.

[She suddenly goes crystalline, and extends her hand for whatever weapon he intends to put into it.]

Oh that's right. You can so th--- did I know you could do that? [ As he hands her a firearm. It's one he cobbled together so it works really well at certain things. ] Which side are you taking?

[She ignores the question about her diamond form.]

Yours, I assume.

[Yes, Emma will take conversational openings even under heavy fire.]

[ you get a look. he stops to level you with a look. okay? and then he looks back at what he's doing. ]

no I meant like, which side of the room do you want, left or right.

[Tiny diamond smile. This is what you get when going into battle with Emma.]

Right.

[She looks down at the alleged gun in her hand.]

Is this even loaded?

[She knows how to use a Glock, okay. Not a Stark Industries first-generation prototype made of paperclips and a smartphone.]

Of course it's loaded. Energy weapon, cartridge, pulled part of it from - I don't know, somebody over there. It'll work fine, just ready and shoot. Aim if you feel like it.

Very well. Whenever you're ready.

[She gestures with her free hand. Unless Tony's hiding a Celestial in his subconscious somewhere, Emma's not worried.]

[ well he's open-minded and has a vast array of knowledge but i, too, doubt he has one of those in here ]

Fantastic.

[ yay shooting - it's like, cathartic or something ] Are you actually made out of diamonds or is that an organic derivative that just looks like them? [ because it's kind of fascinating, and even under fire he is curious, and he really misses his suit right about now so he'll talk about yours ]

[Whatever it is, bullets go ricocheting off it. Emma doesn't even appear to notice the impacts.]

Organic diamond. Just as hard, far higher fracture toughness than the real thing.

[Comic book science is complete nonsense.]

[ He has so many responses to that.

What? No, you can't-

All diamonds are org-

Did you just say 'harder than a-'

You're kidding, r-

That's just carbon; carbon is or-

What the hell

It's kind of hard to figure out what to say first. He probably attempts most of them in at least the first morpheme or so, although there's a slight amount of preoccupation - he is very talented at mouthing though. Who knows. ]

What does that even mean, situationally? That's purely defense. Haven't you got something better than that?

[Emma gives him a dirty look, then kicks the nearest pew, sending it shooting across the floor and crashing into a group of shooters. An Army of One, indeed.]

[ /smiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrkk ]

There we go, that's what I'm talking about. C'mon, let's take these assclowns down.

[ bam bam bam. Gotta get to the door on the other side. Final bossfight. ]

[That is definitely an eyeroll, but Emma backs Tony's play, showing no compunctions whatsoever about killing their opposition. They are, after all, just VR constructs, no matter how realistically they die, and Emma is absolutely well-acquainted enough with death not to care about simulated people.]

[ Which means, basically, that even with Tony building every single one of his weapons on the fly with totally random weird shit he keeps finding, they don't take that long to finish the level and Tony busts through the door, assuming: freedom? new level? somebody else's weird nightmare?

but alas.

He all but actually, physically runs into Stane. ] Fuck. [ duck and cover ]

[Is that...? It takes Emma a moment. She's not as familiar with Tony's rogues gallery as she is with the X-Men's, especially since Stane's not a going concern anymore. Still, he's on the Greatest Hits list, and the armor's not sophisticated enough to be War Machine or Iron Patriot.]

Iron Monger? Really, Tony?

[Your subconscious is strictly third-rate, you realize. Emma grabs Tony and pulls his fragile, fleshy body back out of easy punching range.]

[ He's going into some sort of semi-effective shock and you're picking on him for the bad guy his subconscious provided, excuse him for having sub-par life-altering, traumatizing experiences, okay. And he sort of flails a little, though it's unclear as to whether that's a result of trying not to run into Stane or the state of suddenly being yanked backwards. ]

Are you seriously gonna ride my ass for the choice of the boss fight in my area of this stupid virtual reality bullshit? Can we just kill the not-Obie and leave, okay? [ Because he doesn't want to talk about it. Not here, not Obie-- no, Stane. Not with him standing there talking about golden eggs and the prize goose and all that other crap. This is totally unnecessary, Initiative. ]

Oh, fine. Where do I hit this thing to make it fall over?

[You're the engineering genius. She's just the beautiful, invulnerable, super-strong woman made of diamond.]

[ considering. how do you do this without a handy dandy arc reactor explosion? ]

Back of the neck, light in the chest, the external struts on the shoulders are functioning as collarbones - the arms are too heavy to maneuver properly without them. The hip joints look a little thin, and he'll fire even if he can't see properly, so I might be able to distract him long enough that he'll either run out or you can bonk him - whichever happens before I die in the process.

[ Mild afterthought. ] He can fly. Just, so you're aware.

Good to know.

[Emma ducks a swing. Just because it wouldn't hurt is no reason to stand there and get hit. It gives her long enough to think the problem over a little more, anyway.]

This is idiotic. Presumably the simulation is geared to your strengths and weaknesses, not mine. Can the armor do anything without the wearer controlling it?

[First, last, and always, Emma solves her problems telepathically. Except the problems that require punching.]

[ He's taken cover behind some convenient boxes and shit and is effectively taunting Obie with stupid things. Obie's just reiterating shit from that night, little prick, plans to take over the world, take his company, he was the one who nearly killed him - what the fuck ever, okay. Tony was periodically attracting his attention and periodically ducking for life. But, in a lull: ]

No, it's -- well, mine is built to be inactive if neither myself nor JARVIS is in it. No, or Rhodey. He can fly them. I don't know about his, I didn't have it long enough to find out.

Hmm. Well, I doubt it can hurt.

[The "it" Emma's referring to isn't clear, at least not before she ducks behind an upended desk and returns to her normal, fragile form. Her eyes glow pink and Stane gives a strangled groan before falling silent.]

Horrid little man.

[ Well that's much easier than shooting him in the head, he thinks. Emma can just always come along then. Wait, how did she... He glances over at her a little - oh right. ]

Wait, what did you do to him? [ Approaching Stane's 'body' carefully. ]

Knocked him into a coma.

[Emma says it as though it's the most unexceptional thing in the world. She stands and starts brushing ineffectually at spots of dirt on her cape.]

[ He pauses and takes a moment to look at her like he can't tell whether he should be offended or think she's his new personal hero, but he settles for something hilariously neutral yet betwixt the two and then goes over to actually look at Stane. He is breathing, she was right, but he's entirely nonresponsive. It's kind of... anti-climactic. Not that he needed or even wanted something climactic, just... There's a few moments of looking at the older man's face in a quiet calm uncharacteristic of Tony Stark, because he never really got to look at the man he'd considered a father after Stane betrayed him in all the worst ways possible. At least, not after he knew about it.

Huh. ]

Thanks. That's a... [ Man, wow, okay, feelings, get out. ] That's a pretty nice trick you've got there.

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