genessia | Fantastic social skills all around [Closed]

Priss had dropped the hardsuit off in the morning at her hotel room and taken off in street clothes to arrange musical gigs and collect cash for those contracts. She'd even tried out a prospective band member or two, all while a growing sense of unease trickled down her spine.

The third time she spotted Genos out of the corner of her eye, she started to wind her way back toward the hotel room. Unfortunately, her stalker was between her and it, and she finally had enough. Snatching up a stray pipe from against a building, Priss put her back to the wall near the corner and waited for the blond machine -- a boomer, was that? Hunting her? -- to take another peek.

As soon as there was even a hint of blond hair or creepy gold eyes, the pipe was in motion, aimed right for the side of his head with all her strength! Priss had nailed enough boomers with pipes over the years to know it wouldn't do a lick of good, but like hell was she going to tolerate being stalked any longer!

If the ends of the pipe weren't so big, she'd have tried to stab him in the eye instead. But alas, her luck wasn't that good.

Thunk!

As Priss had already known, the pipe didn't do shit. Against Genos' super hard skull, it came out worse for wear and all the cyborg had to show for it was slightly messier hair. Genos was confused, very confused. Sure he didn't want to be spotted but he didn't think he was doing anything that warranted someone swinging a pipe at him! He hadn't hurt her or anything.

What did one say after getting whacked with a pipe? It didn't even hurt but it wasn't the best start to a conversation. Genos stepped fully into view and crossed his arms, staring at her. He was at a loss.

Well, that wasn't good. Years of learned instinct kicked into high gear; Priss threw the pipe at him, like a short spear, and took off at a run. Fuck! She needed a fucking gun!

A big one!

Genos barely notices the pipe bounce off his shoulder, he was more concerned with his target of intense curiosity fleeing! She wasn't running fast, not compared to the speeds he could reach, but he could easily crush bones if he grabbed her on the run. That and she was unlikely to appreciate getting nabbed if she was running from... hitting him with a pipe? He was still unclear on what the problem was.

There was a simple enough solution. He had plenty of power and speed to jump well over her and land in her path, whirling around on his heels as soon as he landed and holding out a hand, trying to show he didn't mean harm. What that might look like to someone bolting away from him went over his head.

"Stop!" he called in a tone that sounded more like a stern command than anything. "I am not here to attack you!"

Priss slid to a halt with a snarl, raising a fist. She was outmatched in every regard, without her hardsuit, but like hell would she go down without throwing a punch if it came to it. The Knight would break her hand, but it wouldn't be the first time. Not by far.

"What the hell are you following me for, then?!"

Oh was that the problem? He'd clearly not been stealthy enough. There wasn't enough time for him to be familiar with this city yet! The chance to learn about that robot was worth the risk. He held up both hands, straightening up out of his landing pose which did nothing to hide how used to combat he was.

"I saw you with advanced combat machinery and was interested in its purpose," he answered simply. It was a perfectly valid thing to be so interested in, for him.

"That was this morning," Priss didn't relax one bit, in posture or in tone. "You've been following me all day... trying to find out about the machine I left in my hotel room?"

That sounded completely stupid to her... because she wasn't Genos.

"Bullshit. What does stalking me accomplish?"

"I have accomplished little, but I was hoping to determine why you would have such a machine." Genos again spoke like this was a perfectly normal thing to do while also sounding very serious. "I assumed that if I could see why you had it or what you intended to do with it, I could find out more about it."

Stalking... Her reaction was starting to make more sense to him, if only bit by bit. He lowered his arms, thinking this all over. Was this the wrong way to go about his studying?

"Why's it matter?" Priss asked, and then, "What are you? You're not a boomer."

While he was clearly mechanical, she didn't get the weird mental thrum from him in the back of her head like she did with her hardsuit, now, and with the remains of Moto. Which could be a fluke; maybe she was only more attached to those two because they'd been bound to her mind before?

But it still made for a decent guess. That and he hadn't actually attacked, yet.

Or would he? Was this fixation because of what had been put in her brain? Priss' eyes narrowed at the thought. She didn't actually know how boomers would respond to her, now.

Still, she'd never seen a boomer walking around with synthskin only on the face. Usually it was all or nothing.

Edited 2016-06-28 08:37 (UTC)

"What is a 'boomer'? I can guess it is some kind of android or cyborg, if you thought I was one." Genos couldn't assume she would know for sure that he was still a bit human, considering that nothing externally did much to hide that he was fully mechanical. The 'skin' was for his benefit, really, and his eyes destroyed any thought anyone would have that his face might be flesh.

"I am a cyborg," he answered after a pause to think. "Hostile cyborgs are my concern and I didn't have the time to see what kind of machine you had. I could only get a rough idea of its use."

"Closer to... androids."

At least she'd heard of what a cyborg was. Or a similar concept, anyway. Boomer parts were all the rage in her time; he looked like he was more machine than not. "Where I'm from, machines that look like humans go nuts all the time and attack people. And sometimes they answer to scumbags that set them on others on purpose. One might even be ordered to stalk a target for a while, first."

Hence her reaction. Priss lowered her fist, though she stayed on alert. "The hardsuit, the machine I have, is how I fight those... and protect people. It's a boomer, but I'm its core. It can't go rogue unless I do."

The combination of Knight Saber and hardsuit wasn't unlike a cyborg, in a way. Especially with how the suit connected to her brain. The difference was she could shed her heavy, mechanical bits and walk around as a regular human.

...Which wasn't that convenient when one thought one was under attack!

She really needed a gun.

Genos paused again, gathering his thoughts. He had many, many thoughts on her facing berserk, hostile robots but perhaps now was not the time to share them. Priss seemed the type to not like a lot of chatter, much like Saitama.

"I see," he said at last, looking back up at her. His gaze had fixated on the ground at some point while he listening to her. "I didn't mean to startle you, I apologize. I can not be sure if just my sensei and I were the only one's from our 'world' to arrive here. I am not unfamiliar with rogue machines but I have seen less of suits that appear as powerful as that one. Are you its creator?"

Priss finally relaxed a little. She'd kept her knees bent and ready, and her fists clenched; now she stood straighter and put a hand on her hip.

"I'm not," she shook her head, "I can't even fix it." Yet. Somehow, she kept getting little bursts of insight... little hints of how to repair it. It didn't bear closer examination; she was not the Sotai.

"How much of you is mechanical?" she finally asked, because why not? He'd stalked her all day; he could deal with a few blunt questions in return.

"Almost entirely," he answered, completely unbothered by the question. "My brain is organic but that's all that is. It's for the best, most human bodies could not withstand the strain I must put mine under. I am still curious, are you seeking a mechanic for the hardsuit? I am in search of one myself in case large portions of my body are damaged. I can do small repairs myself but it is hard to do them if I've lost my arms."

It was a common enough problem for him to need the backup plan. Or failing that, supplies.

"Aren't you worried about what would happen if the mechanical bits went rogue?" Because that was how it worked, on her world. Unless his brain was somehow the core, like hers was for the hardsuit. That was an interesting idea -- and one she was glad Genom hadn't thought of.

"I... don't know if I'm looking or not," Priss folded her arms, now, "the hardsuit is connected directly to my brain; I'm not sure I want anyone digging around in... that." Surely he could understand that better than most, if he was just a brain in a robot body. Though it didn't sound like he had much choice but to find a mechanic.

"It's semi-sentient, but I'm its core. It's just... complicated." And hard to put words to.

Edited 2016-06-28 09:26 (UTC)

"I am confident I will not go rogue." It really wasn't a concern of Genos'. His dedication towards ending the currently rogue cyborg devoured any worries he might have about himself that wasn't related to how strong he was. His view on just about everything was very black and white.

"I have not worried about having someone else working on me, though the same man that would repair my body also gave me this to begin with." Genos had never thought of it as odd. He was forever grateful for his cyborg body and the repairs that had him back to fighting as soon as possible. "I can understand the concern. If you are willing to let me examine the hardsuit, I might be able to provide advice. As we come from completely different worlds, I can't say if much will be familiar to me."

"You're just... still curious about it," Priss unfolded her arms partially to point at him for emphasis. "Though good job, that's a way less creepy way to look for information than following me around all day."

Honestly. Although...

"Though if you share any insights you get, then sure," he seemed like an honest sort, and that was saying something. Priss wasn't a very trusting person. "Come on."

With that, she started walking toward the hotel. "You know, if your arms or hands or whatever get taken off, I can probably re-attach them. If you don't have anyone else by then."

Actual repairs? She was dubious. Reattaching existing parts, she was pretty sure she could do in a pinch. At least, well enough for him to be able to do better. She'd assisted Nigel with motorcycle repairs before, at least...

Edited 2016-06-28 09:51 (UTC)

Creepy...?

"Thank you- ah!" Genos just realized something. "I heard you mention your name earlier but I haven't shared mine. I'm Genos. I arrived here with my sensei, Saitama." He was still pleased he had at least come along with Saitama! "I will contact you if I am damaged beyond my ability to repair myself, though I am afraid I will still need to find someone that can do more fine maintenance work."

When had she given her name...? Oh, right, he'd been stalking the shit out of her all day. In ear-shot, it seemed. Well, that totally didn't make it creepier.

"Yeah, best I can do is basically slap a bandaid on it," Priss admitted, "but enough bandaids and maybe it'll be enough for you to do it better." One arm at a time, perhaps, but still. "Even heavy parts, or moving you to a different location; I bet you weigh nothing to the hardsuit."

"How strong is the hardsuit?" Of course Genos honed in on the strength of the machine over everything else. "I do not doubt you, I am very curious to how powerful it really is."

If he was lucky, there was information he could bring back to Dr. Kuseno to improve himself!

It was really weird to just be... discussing it with someone.

"I don't know how to measure it," Priss shrugged, and glanced over. "It's totally different technology than whatever you're made of."

They made it into the hotel lobby, and she passed the desk, heading for a room on the ground level. The hardsuit was heavy enough that she didn't trust storing it upstairs in a building she didn't know the structural integrity of.

As soon as they were inside her room, there was the hardsuit. It stood as though she was inside it; even the helmet was on. There was no point in leaving it wide open, after all. Priss folded her arms and leaned against the closed door. "It's a bit damaged," she noted, "from fighting in space and then being hurled back through the atmosphere. Thankfully, whatever brought me here did so before things got too hot. The suit would have gotten me to the ground in one piece, but it probably would have destroyed itself to do so."

Edited 2016-06-28 23:16 (UTC)

Genos was scanning the suit as soon as he laid eyes on it. The difference between where they came from was immediately obvious. There was a lot he could learn from the hardsuit and a lot more that his scanners blanked on. It was even denser than he was and there was something about the structure of it that was very odd.

He moved around it, frowning as he tried to piece together some meaning out of the readings.

"It's extremely durable then," he noted. "It's easy to see why. You did say it was semi-sentient, what do you mean by that?"

"It's not quite its own person, because it was made to be part of me; I'm its core." Priss remained where she was, arms folded. "It is a boomer, however, and they're alive by default. Machines, patterned off human consciousness... and originally, our DNA. They just don't use blood and meat as their building blocks. They're all shapeshifters, too, which is why the suit doesn't look too messed up. I formed it back into an older shape after I woke up."

Like it was that easy. Like she hadn't just learned how to modify its shape mere hours before...

"It has an ai? Or something else?" Genos was willing to accept the idea of living machines more complex or bizarre than him. Monsters hardly made any sense, but he did want to know exactly what was up with these boomers on the off chance he could understand the technology behind them. "I haven't seen anything like this, not that I've had the chance to look at. How does it change shape?"

"Something else," Priss unfolded her arms to rub her forehead. Her head was starting to hurt as they talked about it. "Like I said, it's complicated. And it can... rearrange its structure. Like... clay. Kinda. Boomers do it all the time when they go rogue; I did it to this one because I'm part of it."

Of course, the suit was plenty hard right now, not at all like clay.

"Catch," Priss said, and the helmet suddenly unsealed from the neck of the suit, toppling forward. It was a lot heavier than it looked, though of course Genos would have no trouble with it.

And sure enough, both the helmet and the rest of the suit -- what could be seen through the neck -- were completely hollow. The scent of old, dried blood came from inside both; not easily detected by a human -- she'd cleaned it up reasonably well -- but easy enough to pick up by Genos' sensors.

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