Log: Moira takes Cain down to the Danger Room

[x-juggernaut.livejournal.com]

Moira, dressed in jeans and a tank top with a towel thrown over her shoulder, jogged to a stop in front of Cain's door. Cheerfully, she tapped a note to the front of the door and then jogged back the way she came, whistling cheerfully. The note simply read

"Cain, let's try a slightly better location this time, shall we? Meet me in the sub-basements in the Danger Room. Let's have some fun. ~Moira".

(ten minutes later) Cain trudged down the hall to his room, barely noticing the note on the door. He gave it a quick once-over, "...sub-basements... Danger Room, okay, I like the sound of that...". Changing out of his flannel shirt and jeans into a pair of sweats and a faded NY Giants t-shirt, he made his way down to the basements.

Nodding in satisfication as the hydraulic press was set up, Moira stuck her head out of the control room door and spotted Cain coming down the hall towards her. "Good evenin' Cain an' how're ye?"

Cain arched an eyebrow at the doctor's workout clothes. "We going for a run or something, doc?"

"Nay...I did earlier ta get rid o' some energy. Too comfortable ta take off." She grinned. "Ye, however..." Waving him inside the booth, she pointed out the window at the press. "Obviously this isna a regular session but after th' holidays an' last time..." She shrugged. "I figured ye like this one a wee bit better."

Marko shrugged. "You're the doc. So this is Chuck's amazing ninety bajillion dollar rumpus room, huh?" He looked around at the walls paneled with flat metal. "Looks like some weird hall of mirrors at a carnival."

She snorts. "Aye, he tends towards th' bright an' shiny tha' he does." She grabs a clipboard off the control system. "Need ta do a wee physical on ye, Cain, jus' ta compare some numbers after all th' fun's done wit."

Cain took a step backwards involuntarily. "Whoa there, doc. This ain't gonna be the 'turn your head and cough' physical? I mean, it ain't like I get sick or anything, I mean, I--" Cain's attention was suddenly stolen by the massive set of pressure plates rising up from the floor on pistons. A grin spread over his face. "Oh, THAT kind of physical..."

Quickly hiding a smile behind the clipboard, Moira responds "Nay, not -tha'- kind o' physical. Heartbeat, blood pressure an' temperature, tha's all. Ye nay even 'ave ta take off yer pants, jus' yer shirt."

Cain cleared his throat. "Er... sure." He stood stock-still until Moira cocked her head and motioned with her hands. "Oh, now?" Cain asked, then sighed. Giving a glance to the door to ensure privacy, he pulled his shirt up by the hem, tossing it onto a nearby table.

Taking a deep breath, Cain turned, arms unfolding from across his chest to reveal the ruby that protruded from his sternum. Moira's eyes widened only slightly as she stepped closer, getting a good look. The stone seemed to be... bonded to Cain's chest, for lack of a better term. A small edging of bone was visible around the edges of the ruby, the skin simply ending as if it had grown that way.

Moira's breath seems to be stuck in her throat. "Bloody hell," she mutters. She reaches out a hand and then pauses. "Ye mind?" There's no pity in her eyes, just understanding and sympathy and some curiosity.

Cain gritted his teeth, reminding himself that Doctor MacTaggart wasn't one of the military doctors who... "Go right ahead," he grumbled.

She places her hand on the jewel's middle, only to find it cool to the touch. Like any -other- piece of rock...except for being impedded in the skin part. She then gently touches the skin that touches the jewel but finds it warm to the touch, like normal skin. Except it's tight, like it's being stretched over something. Moira wonders how far that jewel actually -goes- inside of Cain. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she reaches for the equipment on the side.

"Well, now ta th' stickin' ye part...wit'out th' stickin' ye. Jus' goin' ta take yer temperature an' yer vitals an' we'll compare it wit' th' results when we're finished up." She's obviously surprised but taking it in stride, acting like it's normal to see that, acting like it is a part of Cain and not some odditity to be studied.

"Fine by me," Cain quipped. "Ain't like you're getting a needle in me anyhow. Last doctor went through a dozen of them before he figured that out. Heh. Dumbass."
"Dumbass indeed." She reaches up with the thermator and then pauses. "Well, damn it...han' on." She hooks a chair with her foot and drags it over to them. Stepping up, she nods. "Aye, much better," she remarks before leaning in and placing the patch on his forehead. "Bloody height difference..."

Chuckling to himself, Cain leaned back against the steel table. "What's the diagnosis, doc?"

"98.9, but tha's ta be expected. Yer nay exactly petite. Since I'm up here, can ye hand me the stethescope an' blood pressure gauge?"

Cain obligingly lifted the medical instruments. "So what's the big deal here? It's not like I'm going to catch the winter flu or break my leg falling out of a tree. I don't exactly need medical attention."

"Nay, ye dinnae. In fact, wit' the exception o' yer jewelry, yer th' perfect picture o' healt'," she quipped, slipping on the headset to the stethescope and placing it on his chest. "Breat' normally,,,aye. I jus' want ta compare normal numbers ta after work out numbers. Deep breat', now."

Taking a deep breath, Cain rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. "You can probably skip the blood pressure cuff, too. Doctor broke two of those, too."

Mentally filing that in the back of her mind, she nodded, twirling her finger in a circle. "Jus' need ye ta do a piroute, please, need ta hear yer heart from th' back. Two, aye? Well, we'll avoid makin' number three. We'll skip tha' part."

Obeying her instructions, Cain gritted his teeth. "Sure, sure. Look, I ain't trying to be rude, but can we hurry this part up? I ain't much for feeling like a science experiment."
"I know, I'm sorry ta be takin' so lon'. If'n I was taller, it would have been faster." She listened one last time and then hopped off the chair and wrote down a number on the chart. "I dinnae know what's goin' ta happen wit' yer exericise an' I hate bein' caught by surprise. But jus' thin', I'll never make ye do tha' again. Now, do ye want ta go hit...er, push somethin'?"

Cain grinned from ear to ear, pulling his shirt back on and stepping into the Danger Room. "Just point me in the right direction, doc."

Moira settled herself in the chair and turned the microphone on. "I'm sure'n yer familiar with hydrolic presses. I jus' want ta test what yer limits are fer liftin' an' pushin'. Whenever yer ready, Cain, do as ye will." She leaned back, thinking she should have brought some coffee with her...but she had personally tested each coffee mug given as a gift within a very short amount of time...

Cain strode over to the press, reaching under the pressure plates and hoisting them over his head. The pistons whined and creaked at first, then began pumping, applying pressure. With a grin, Cain flexed his arms, resisting the added force. "I can keep this up longer than you can..." he whispered.

Moira jotted down notes as the numbers flashed by. She took her gaze from the numbers for a few minutes to watch Cain lift. "Mother...he isn'a even liftin' a sweat..." Glancing back at the numbers, she nearly choked on her tongue. Not even ten minutes had passed and it was already at 10 tons. And the numbers were going up...

With a heave and a grunt, Cain lifted the press into the air, stepping out from under it as it smashed to the floor. "Feel like a fool with my arms in the air like that." Cain paced back and forth, swinging his massive arms from side to side. "Next?"

The microphone clicked on and she cleared her throat. "...um...ye...I'm impressed...*cough*...pushin' now?"

Cain turned to see a battering ram-like device extending from the floor towards him. "You have got to be kidding," he mumbled, lowering his shoulder and stepping forward. Meeting the ram halfway across the floor, Cain set his feet and began to push.
Clearing her throat, Moira watched intently.

Cain continued striding forward, pushing the ram backwards along its track. Beneath his feet, he could feel the vibrations of the geothermally-powered magnetic force engine. He paid it no mind, however, continuing forward despite the massive obstacle. Under his breath, he felt the words forming on his lips as he breathed; "I will not be stopped. I will not be stopped..."

Moira found herself leaning out of her chair, numbers forgotten. "Lord Almighty, I dinnae think th' machine is goin' ta win..."

"...will not be stopped..." Cain breathed, continuing to press forward. Moira glanced down at the screens, watching the power readings flash into the red.

"Impossible..." she breathed, "there canna be such a thing... ye canna have INFINITE force, it's a violation o' physics..." Her protestations were cut off by the lights in the room dimming as power was diverted to the Danger Room, but only briefly before a loud grinding and crashing noise began to echo throughout the sub-basement, barely masking one loud bellow:

"I WILL NOT BE STOPPED!"

"Cain!" The door is open before the crashing can die down and Moira's sprinting into the Danger Room. She skids to a stop, staring in bewilderment at the metal giving away before Cain's...possibly -infinite- force..."Cain?"

Before Moira's eyes, however, something moved amidst the wreckage of the ruined machine. Lifting the massive ram over his head, Cain shrugged, dropping it with a crash behind him. Wiping small pieces of metal from his arms, Cain smirked at Moira through the steam and sparks. "Broke it."

For once, Moira seems completely speechless. "...aye, tha' ye did," she replies weakly. "Um..." She moves towards Cain and the wreckage and looks up at him. "Cain, I dinnae know if'n ye know what infinite force is but...ye know, ye've broken me brain. Broke!" Sighing, she grabs his wrist in her hands and takes his pulse. "...normal...yer nay sweatin'...ye jus' broke Charles'...Charles...oh shit. Ye know what I hear callin' me name? I hear IHOP. I think we'll leave Charles a note, aye..."

Cain reared his head back, laughing out loud. "Should have warned you about that. Ain't anything on this earth stops me once I want to get moving." Cain looked around at the wreckage. "Not a damn thing." Stepping forward, he shook his head, small pieces of metal filings drifting to the floor. "Now, you said something about pancakes?"

"At this point, lots o' pancakes. An' coffee, I need more coffee." She waved a hand at the falling chips of metal. "There's an all ye can eat IHOP jus' a short drive away...I leave Charles a wee note 'bout his machine an' we'll be off, aye?"

Cain nodded. "I'll change and meet you at the garage. And don't worry too much about Chuck. He'll just buy another."

"Oh, I know but I also dinnae exactly tell him 'bout this wee experiment." She thought for a moment and then shrugged, her overclocked brain homing in on the thought of pancakes. "...ye know, if we have an eatin' contest, ye'll win but I'll give ye a hell o' a fight..."

Cain grinned over his shoulder as he walked toward the elevators. "You're on, doc."

Comments

[x-avier.livejournal.com]

Call me overly optimistic, but I had been nurturing this secret fantasy in which we were both grown men and this fascination with breaking my toys had been relegated to a childhood long since gone. It would seem we've simply graduated to breaking the very expensive toys.

And, Moira, I know where that IHOP is, and maple syrup is not an effective telepathic defense.

Twin-berry, however, has a number of remarkable properties.