Kyle and Forge, terminators and vacations
Jun. 22nd, 2009 05:02 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsKyle goes to find Forge to convince him it is time to go get burgers, and gets a vacation offer out of the deal.
Kyle Gibney had zero problems remembering to eat. Most of the people he considered friends also had no such problem. With the glaring exception being on John Henry Forge, who forgot to eat, and whose idea of a meal was a couple of Pop Tarts washed down with an extra-large Red Bull. Which was why on occasion, Kyle just took it on himself to venture down into the labs with the intent of not leaving until he'd convinced Forge that it was time for Burgers.
Normally this was easily accomplished, and if there was delay, it was in the form of Forge needing time to finish whatever he was building. This time, Kyle didn't even get the chance to say anything. He had stopped barely through the doors, and stared with his mouth half open at Forge making notes as what Kyle could only identify as some kind of machine gun strapped to the headless torso of a mannequin fired something that made paff-paff-paff sounds into a large block of something that smelled just like wax.
As the gun finished the firing cycle, Forge removed the large headphones from his ears, pushed his goggles up on his forehead, and walked over to the block of ballistics gel. "Hm," Kyle could hear his former roommate mumble. "Fragmentation occurs only after one full post-contact revolution. I was right, absolutely custom job. Bullets that'll chew through armor and flesh. Nasty."
He turned back towards the bench, then did a double-take at seeing Kyle looming in the doorway. "Jumping Jehovah in geosynchronous orbit! You just about scared the life out of me, man. And given the stuff I've been trying to disassemble today, that's saying a lot."
"Dude, I would ask you what the hell, but... no, wait, yeah, what the hell is that?" Kyle pointed at the torso-gun-thing. He couldn't stop staring at the thing, and it didn't help that he'd watched all the Terminator movies in the last two weeks so he wouldn't be confused seeing the new one with Batman in it. Belatedly, he realized that he'd startled Forge enough that the shorter man's heartrate was elevated. "Didn't mean to be all Sneaking Kyle, Looming Ninja. But dude, what is that?"
"Caseless fifteen-millimeter assault rifle," Forge stated as he began using a small awl and rubber mallet to knock retaining pins out of the rifle's receiver. "Electronic firing system, two-stage reciprocating bolt, bullpup design. Allows for a longer barrel length proportionate to the overall size of the weapon, increasing accuracy and stability at high rates of fire."
Catching his breath, he looked over at Kyle and shrugged. "It's a machine gun. Jacked it off one of the Reavers in Brazil. Trying to break it down specifically to see where it was manufactured. No serial numbers on any of the parts, it's all a custom job. I might see if Julio can get his dad on the horn, see if anything like this is sold internationally on the black market. It's way beyond contemporary weapons tech."
"Wait, it is a fucking Terminator gun? I thought I was just watching too many movies." Kyle warily looked the gun over, keeping his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He didn't even want to touch the thing, not after Forge mentioned "Reavers". For all he knew, being a cyborg was contagious. "What the ass were those cyborg guys doing in Brazil anyway? I thought that got their butts kicked and ran away crying?
"Apparently they got hired by some company that since up and vanished, to protect this power plant that they were using a poor mutant kid to fuel." Forge's face was screwed up in anger - he still had issues with the things he'd seen in Brazil, obviously. "You should've seen Haller, man. He was literally tearing them apart with his brain, it was amazing. We're talking at least thirty, forty million dollars of weapons-grade cybernetics just trashed."
Forge walked over to another bench, this one sporting an obviously-damaged cybernetic arm. "Whoever's outfitting them, this is new," he explained. "They didn't have myomer this advanced when they attacked here those years ago. They're upgrading - not just in tech, they're more organized now. One of them told Haller that they'd been hired - like some... whatchacallit, Blackwater thing. Private contractors? I've got some searches going there too."
It took Kyle a few seconds to translate that from Forgeese to something he thought made sense in his head. "Okay, so the Terminator guys got upgrades, so now they're like, super-terminators, and they're using better versions of that stuff your arm runs on, and they're like, mercenaries? Oh, and Haller kicked a lot of ass with his brain?" He hadn't read the writeup yet. He'd gotten the summary, and that was it, because 'using mutant kids for anything' was high on the list of things that pissed Kyle off bad enough to break things he might need later.
"You pick up fast," Forge teased. "I need to hurry up on this stuff before I go on vacation. Hey, speaking of which, you have plans for this weekend?"
"I got it all right? KICK ASS." Kyle reached over his shoulder and patted himself on the back. Getting all of the important points wasn't rare, but getting all the technobabble sorted out correctly was. "This weekend, like the one that's just coming up? Not really, why? You guys need me to feed your robot vacuum or something?"
"Nah, I was wondering if you feel like a trip. You know, a change of scenery." Forge reached over and typed a few commands into a computer and then spun the screen around, showing a huge skyscraper. "The Malik Dubai. It's in the United Arab Emirates. First totally-automated hotel system. State of the art luxury, all computerized. I know a guy who knows a guy, they've comped me two suites as part of a tech consult. I'm going to meet Crystal there, and I figured you and Doug could probably use a vacation. What do you say?"
"Sure! The Mawk Dubby?" Kyle naturally mangled the name of the hotel. "That's a weird name for a hotel. Isn't the UAE where that crazy place with the artificial islands are and that crazy tall building? I saw a Discovery Channel show, some guys BASE jumped off it like and got away with it. It was totally awesome. Wait, that's not this place, is it? Dude, that would be kinda cool if it was."
Forge shook his head. "That's the Burj Dubai, world's tallest skyscraper. Mostly office stuff. The Malik isn't as tall, but everything's computerized. No cleaning staff, no busboys - everything's computer-controlled. The AI on their service robots is pretty sweet, too. I hear Dubai's awesome - beaches, sun, everything a proper vacation should have, right? And we're talking top of the line luxury suites here."
Kyle considered it for about a third of a second before agreeing. It didn't need much thinking over. "Dude. That sounds totally awesome. I am so there." He definitely needed a vacation, and even if he hadn't needed one, he wasn't going to say no to a practically free vacation. Free was one of the most awesome words in the language. "No catch, like I have to be your bodyguard against like, Doc Farouk or anything? Because he's from one of those Middle East places and I'm pretty sure he's pissed at me for hanging up on him that one time."
"Nah, nothing like that. Just a few days of totally decadent R&R. No Brotherhood, no crazy zombies, no X-Men stress - I swear I've got to unwind or I'm going to go insane." Forge sighed and walked back over to the bench, hefting the machine gun awkwardly. "Shit, no wonder they needed upgraded cybernetics, this thing weighs like forty pounds..."
"Dude, where you do want that thing?" Kyle asked. Forty pounds? That wasn't heavy at all. "I mean, safety or whatever it is for a machine gun is on right? It's not loaded? You're giving me a free vacation, I'll carry this thing all over the damn mansion if you want."
Forge handed the weapon to Kyle, making sure he ejected the magazine and checked the chamber and barrel. "The safe over there. Soon as I can get a lead on it, I'm destroying it. Fucking one-purpose machine of death, that is. It's elegant, I'll give it that. Whoever designed it has some serious chops. But when it comes down to it, a gun's just a gun." He smirked and tapped his temple. "We beat them without even firing a shot. So there's that."
"Brains versus guns, brains one, guns big fat nada?" Kyle said, after he shut the safe with his foot. "I'll take that score over the other way around. Being shot sucks. Last time, it hurt -and- Laurie bitched at me for like, the whole day. I still say I should've gotten a free pass on whining. First time a guy gets shot, he should get a whiner pass."
"Man, you have no idea," Forge said. "Getting to spend time with my girlfriend WITHOUT Laurie hanging around? Awesome. Sweet kid, but she's like, walking buzzkill, you know?" Forge remembered what Crystal had said about informing Laurie about the change of plans, and smiled to himself. "And don't jinx me. I haven't been shot yet, and don't plan to. Chewed on by dinosaurs, maimed by crazy Hungarians, brain-zapped by telepaths - I'd like to keep shooting OFF the injury card."
"Dude, are we gonna play one-up on the trauma? DNA re-wrote by Doc Moira's crazy stalker, cut off my own toe, cut off my own ear, and fed my fingers to a T-Rex and then got set on fire by Angel!" Kyle shook his head, chuckling. "Okay, if we do that we're gonna sound like Nate and... Nate. Lets go get burgers and sound like us. You can talk about robots, and I'll talk about how I think Dubai might have surfing, and that's awesome."
--
Unused dialogue from this log that didn't make the edit: Kyle Gibney on guns: Yeah, I'm sure someone liked T-Rexes back in the day or whatever, but I bet you'd need a license to keep one as a pet.
Kyle Gibney had zero problems remembering to eat. Most of the people he considered friends also had no such problem. With the glaring exception being on John Henry Forge, who forgot to eat, and whose idea of a meal was a couple of Pop Tarts washed down with an extra-large Red Bull. Which was why on occasion, Kyle just took it on himself to venture down into the labs with the intent of not leaving until he'd convinced Forge that it was time for Burgers.
Normally this was easily accomplished, and if there was delay, it was in the form of Forge needing time to finish whatever he was building. This time, Kyle didn't even get the chance to say anything. He had stopped barely through the doors, and stared with his mouth half open at Forge making notes as what Kyle could only identify as some kind of machine gun strapped to the headless torso of a mannequin fired something that made paff-paff-paff sounds into a large block of something that smelled just like wax.
As the gun finished the firing cycle, Forge removed the large headphones from his ears, pushed his goggles up on his forehead, and walked over to the block of ballistics gel. "Hm," Kyle could hear his former roommate mumble. "Fragmentation occurs only after one full post-contact revolution. I was right, absolutely custom job. Bullets that'll chew through armor and flesh. Nasty."
He turned back towards the bench, then did a double-take at seeing Kyle looming in the doorway. "Jumping Jehovah in geosynchronous orbit! You just about scared the life out of me, man. And given the stuff I've been trying to disassemble today, that's saying a lot."
"Dude, I would ask you what the hell, but... no, wait, yeah, what the hell is that?" Kyle pointed at the torso-gun-thing. He couldn't stop staring at the thing, and it didn't help that he'd watched all the Terminator movies in the last two weeks so he wouldn't be confused seeing the new one with Batman in it. Belatedly, he realized that he'd startled Forge enough that the shorter man's heartrate was elevated. "Didn't mean to be all Sneaking Kyle, Looming Ninja. But dude, what is that?"
"Caseless fifteen-millimeter assault rifle," Forge stated as he began using a small awl and rubber mallet to knock retaining pins out of the rifle's receiver. "Electronic firing system, two-stage reciprocating bolt, bullpup design. Allows for a longer barrel length proportionate to the overall size of the weapon, increasing accuracy and stability at high rates of fire."
Catching his breath, he looked over at Kyle and shrugged. "It's a machine gun. Jacked it off one of the Reavers in Brazil. Trying to break it down specifically to see where it was manufactured. No serial numbers on any of the parts, it's all a custom job. I might see if Julio can get his dad on the horn, see if anything like this is sold internationally on the black market. It's way beyond contemporary weapons tech."
"Wait, it is a fucking Terminator gun? I thought I was just watching too many movies." Kyle warily looked the gun over, keeping his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He didn't even want to touch the thing, not after Forge mentioned "Reavers". For all he knew, being a cyborg was contagious. "What the ass were those cyborg guys doing in Brazil anyway? I thought that got their butts kicked and ran away crying?
"Apparently they got hired by some company that since up and vanished, to protect this power plant that they were using a poor mutant kid to fuel." Forge's face was screwed up in anger - he still had issues with the things he'd seen in Brazil, obviously. "You should've seen Haller, man. He was literally tearing them apart with his brain, it was amazing. We're talking at least thirty, forty million dollars of weapons-grade cybernetics just trashed."
Forge walked over to another bench, this one sporting an obviously-damaged cybernetic arm. "Whoever's outfitting them, this is new," he explained. "They didn't have myomer this advanced when they attacked here those years ago. They're upgrading - not just in tech, they're more organized now. One of them told Haller that they'd been hired - like some... whatchacallit, Blackwater thing. Private contractors? I've got some searches going there too."
It took Kyle a few seconds to translate that from Forgeese to something he thought made sense in his head. "Okay, so the Terminator guys got upgrades, so now they're like, super-terminators, and they're using better versions of that stuff your arm runs on, and they're like, mercenaries? Oh, and Haller kicked a lot of ass with his brain?" He hadn't read the writeup yet. He'd gotten the summary, and that was it, because 'using mutant kids for anything' was high on the list of things that pissed Kyle off bad enough to break things he might need later.
"You pick up fast," Forge teased. "I need to hurry up on this stuff before I go on vacation. Hey, speaking of which, you have plans for this weekend?"
"I got it all right? KICK ASS." Kyle reached over his shoulder and patted himself on the back. Getting all of the important points wasn't rare, but getting all the technobabble sorted out correctly was. "This weekend, like the one that's just coming up? Not really, why? You guys need me to feed your robot vacuum or something?"
"Nah, I was wondering if you feel like a trip. You know, a change of scenery." Forge reached over and typed a few commands into a computer and then spun the screen around, showing a huge skyscraper. "The Malik Dubai. It's in the United Arab Emirates. First totally-automated hotel system. State of the art luxury, all computerized. I know a guy who knows a guy, they've comped me two suites as part of a tech consult. I'm going to meet Crystal there, and I figured you and Doug could probably use a vacation. What do you say?"
"Sure! The Mawk Dubby?" Kyle naturally mangled the name of the hotel. "That's a weird name for a hotel. Isn't the UAE where that crazy place with the artificial islands are and that crazy tall building? I saw a Discovery Channel show, some guys BASE jumped off it like and got away with it. It was totally awesome. Wait, that's not this place, is it? Dude, that would be kinda cool if it was."
Forge shook his head. "That's the Burj Dubai, world's tallest skyscraper. Mostly office stuff. The Malik isn't as tall, but everything's computerized. No cleaning staff, no busboys - everything's computer-controlled. The AI on their service robots is pretty sweet, too. I hear Dubai's awesome - beaches, sun, everything a proper vacation should have, right? And we're talking top of the line luxury suites here."
Kyle considered it for about a third of a second before agreeing. It didn't need much thinking over. "Dude. That sounds totally awesome. I am so there." He definitely needed a vacation, and even if he hadn't needed one, he wasn't going to say no to a practically free vacation. Free was one of the most awesome words in the language. "No catch, like I have to be your bodyguard against like, Doc Farouk or anything? Because he's from one of those Middle East places and I'm pretty sure he's pissed at me for hanging up on him that one time."
"Nah, nothing like that. Just a few days of totally decadent R&R. No Brotherhood, no crazy zombies, no X-Men stress - I swear I've got to unwind or I'm going to go insane." Forge sighed and walked back over to the bench, hefting the machine gun awkwardly. "Shit, no wonder they needed upgraded cybernetics, this thing weighs like forty pounds..."
"Dude, where you do want that thing?" Kyle asked. Forty pounds? That wasn't heavy at all. "I mean, safety or whatever it is for a machine gun is on right? It's not loaded? You're giving me a free vacation, I'll carry this thing all over the damn mansion if you want."
Forge handed the weapon to Kyle, making sure he ejected the magazine and checked the chamber and barrel. "The safe over there. Soon as I can get a lead on it, I'm destroying it. Fucking one-purpose machine of death, that is. It's elegant, I'll give it that. Whoever designed it has some serious chops. But when it comes down to it, a gun's just a gun." He smirked and tapped his temple. "We beat them without even firing a shot. So there's that."
"Brains versus guns, brains one, guns big fat nada?" Kyle said, after he shut the safe with his foot. "I'll take that score over the other way around. Being shot sucks. Last time, it hurt -and- Laurie bitched at me for like, the whole day. I still say I should've gotten a free pass on whining. First time a guy gets shot, he should get a whiner pass."
"Man, you have no idea," Forge said. "Getting to spend time with my girlfriend WITHOUT Laurie hanging around? Awesome. Sweet kid, but she's like, walking buzzkill, you know?" Forge remembered what Crystal had said about informing Laurie about the change of plans, and smiled to himself. "And don't jinx me. I haven't been shot yet, and don't plan to. Chewed on by dinosaurs, maimed by crazy Hungarians, brain-zapped by telepaths - I'd like to keep shooting OFF the injury card."
"Dude, are we gonna play one-up on the trauma? DNA re-wrote by Doc Moira's crazy stalker, cut off my own toe, cut off my own ear, and fed my fingers to a T-Rex and then got set on fire by Angel!" Kyle shook his head, chuckling. "Okay, if we do that we're gonna sound like Nate and... Nate. Lets go get burgers and sound like us. You can talk about robots, and I'll talk about how I think Dubai might have surfing, and that's awesome."
--
Unused dialogue from this log that didn't make the edit: Kyle Gibney on guns: Yeah, I'm sure someone liked T-Rexes back in the day or whatever, but I bet you'd need a license to keep one as a pet.
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