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001 / video;
[ The video feed opens to the gentle chaos that is Nomo #001. The background is a mess of laptops, cables, and for those who helped Tony haul around a giant metal cylinder at the beginning of the month - a suspiciously similar-colored suit of armor, still slightly disassembled but much less pod-like than before.
In the foreground you're treated to Tony and Adrien, looking grimly self-satisfied and just grim, respectively. ]
So, we've got an ear in their ship. My ear, specifically. [ He says, with great humbleness. ] Negotiations has already heard this, but there's some intel I think the defense and offense teams will wanna be privy to.
[ Info he wants defense and offense teams to be privy to, because even if this feels a little like bussing negotiations' cause somewhat, he likes being alive. So, there's that.
There may have also been a discussion, before this video was even turned on, over this particular course of action with the decision coming down to two key factors. Everyone being informed of all known intel, in order to make an informed decision, and the need for more help. ]
Go ahead, say it. You know you want to. [ Adrien mutters, more as an aside to Tony than as a direct address to the video. The comment earns a roll of Tony’s eyes, but he proceeds regardless. ]
Several hours of obsessively trying to cobble together their strategy has told us they either 1.) aren’t great at strategy, 2.) don’t particularly care, or 3.) are too pissed to bother. Or, y’know, a little off the top of all three columns. Point is, there’s nothing stealthy about them. They’re just planning to come at us with everything they’ve got, guns blazing.
[ Tony shoots a look at Adrien, as if to say ‘happy now?’ His pointed look earns him a flat look in return. Listen, Adrien’s not the one who kept using the terminology. He didn’t even get the pop cultural reference. However, to continue. ]
There is a definite tone of seeking recompense from not just one or two individuals but upon this entire ship. We understand that everybody is still in the midst of sharing ideas and formulating plans; this is just information we believed people might want to have on hand when in those discussions.
[ The next part proceeds with an almost grudging tone, like the idea of admitting the need for additional help is particularly distasteful to him, but see aforementioned: he likes not dying. ]
But there’re still some questions we don’t have answered. Questions I would very much like answered, given the above information; if they’re coming at us in a direct assault, we need a way more thorough threat-analysis than we currently have. And make no mistake - I’m amazing - but I can only be in fourteen places at once. We need more ears if we want to gather as much intel as possible, and that’s counting everybody who’s already crashed this shitty party.
[ Tony gives the camera a pointed look, a deliberate nod to everyone who’s already lent a hand with the hacking efforts. He knows who they are. They know who they are. ]
[ Alright Tony, Adrien will give voice to the words you just can’t bring your egotistical self to speak. ]
We’ve also hacked some ship specs but neither Mr. Stark, nor myself have enough experience with the Moira and her capabilities to be comfortable in what information we have and what further mining we should pursue.
More experienced eyes, either with the Moira, the Caducians, or even deep space vehicles, would also be appreciated.
And if you've done any digging of your own, by all means, share with the class.
[ Tony doesn't quite get the feed shut down before muttering under his breath about needing more coffee. ]
(( For reference these were the questions put up in the plotting post to the mods, about any hacking efforts and the results, for anyone who wants to jump in on uncovering details! Information about ship specs, Information about communication eavesdropping. ))
In the foreground you're treated to Tony and Adrien, looking grimly self-satisfied and just grim, respectively. ]
So, we've got an ear in their ship. My ear, specifically. [ He says, with great humbleness. ] Negotiations has already heard this, but there's some intel I think the defense and offense teams will wanna be privy to.
[ Info he wants defense and offense teams to be privy to, because even if this feels a little like bussing negotiations' cause somewhat, he likes being alive. So, there's that.
There may have also been a discussion, before this video was even turned on, over this particular course of action with the decision coming down to two key factors. Everyone being informed of all known intel, in order to make an informed decision, and the need for more help. ]
Go ahead, say it. You know you want to. [ Adrien mutters, more as an aside to Tony than as a direct address to the video. The comment earns a roll of Tony’s eyes, but he proceeds regardless. ]
Several hours of obsessively trying to cobble together their strategy has told us they either 1.) aren’t great at strategy, 2.) don’t particularly care, or 3.) are too pissed to bother. Or, y’know, a little off the top of all three columns. Point is, there’s nothing stealthy about them. They’re just planning to come at us with everything they’ve got, guns blazing.
[ Tony shoots a look at Adrien, as if to say ‘happy now?’ His pointed look earns him a flat look in return. Listen, Adrien’s not the one who kept using the terminology. He didn’t even get the pop cultural reference. However, to continue. ]
There is a definite tone of seeking recompense from not just one or two individuals but upon this entire ship. We understand that everybody is still in the midst of sharing ideas and formulating plans; this is just information we believed people might want to have on hand when in those discussions.
[ The next part proceeds with an almost grudging tone, like the idea of admitting the need for additional help is particularly distasteful to him, but see aforementioned: he likes not dying. ]
But there’re still some questions we don’t have answered. Questions I would very much like answered, given the above information; if they’re coming at us in a direct assault, we need a way more thorough threat-analysis than we currently have. And make no mistake - I’m amazing - but I can only be in fourteen places at once. We need more ears if we want to gather as much intel as possible, and that’s counting everybody who’s already crashed this shitty party.
[ Tony gives the camera a pointed look, a deliberate nod to everyone who’s already lent a hand with the hacking efforts. He knows who they are. They know who they are. ]
[ Alright Tony, Adrien will give voice to the words you just can’t bring your egotistical self to speak. ]
We’ve also hacked some ship specs but neither Mr. Stark, nor myself have enough experience with the Moira and her capabilities to be comfortable in what information we have and what further mining we should pursue.
More experienced eyes, either with the Moira, the Caducians, or even deep space vehicles, would also be appreciated.
And if you've done any digging of your own, by all means, share with the class.
[ Tony doesn't quite get the feed shut down before muttering under his breath about needing more coffee. ]
(( For reference these were the questions put up in the plotting post to the mods, about any hacking efforts and the results, for anyone who wants to jump in on uncovering details! Information about ship specs, Information about communication eavesdropping. ))
video;
[ Please and thank you. ]
You talk a big game, but I want a demonstration. Observable. Quantifiable.
video;
Fine, come over. Or I'll meet you somewhere. Your call, slick.
video;
video --> action;
[With a parting salute, Sans shuts off the MID. Five minutes pass, he puts on his hoodie. Another five minutes, he fishes out some shorts. Two minutes of digging under his bed and Sans finds his house slippers, shoving them unceremoniously onto his feet.
In the final remaining minutes Sans manages to head down to the kitchens, pick up a few oranges from the back rooms of storage, and get halfway through eating his while cozying up in the lounge.
When Tony shows up, Sans looks for all the world like he's been there an hour, not a few minutes.]
Hey, check it. [He tosses the orange.] Dinner.
action;
Cheap date. [ Translation: hi Sans. ]
[ But he wastes no time peeling it, so beggars and choosers and all that. ]
action;
So how d'you wanna do this. Explanation first, demonstration after? Or are you impatient?
action;
[ He says, without actually sounding offended at all. ]
Wow me, Beetlejuice. I learn as I go.
action; 1/2
[Theatrics weren't really his style, not unless you counted the theater of the underwhelming as entertainment. He motioned for Tony to step closer, hands resting comfortably in his pockets. Of course, the moment Tony did move--]
action; 2/2
Instead of the plain walls of the lounge, the brilliant starscape of the observation deck surrounds them.
Sans, the same distance away as before, pops another orange slice in his mouth.]
action; good job pal
1.) fathomless voids
2.) anything even vaguely reminiscent of a wormhole in appearance or physical sensation
3.) the observation deck
His own orange hits the floor as he scrambles to regain his bearings, one hand flying out to steady himself against the observation glass. ]
Jesus. [ It comes out a little breathy, despite the whole thing having cost no physical exertion from him at all. ]
[ why this ]
action; i believe that's what the pros call a hat trick
[His smile and tone might lend towards lack of concern -- and to be fair, they were mostly accurate -- but there was an element of genuine question in the bent of his eye sockets all the same.]
Look like you've you've seen a ghost. Or, y'know, had your matter reorganized.
action; refund demanded
[ A thing where the concept of having his matter reorganized by skeletal bullshit magic makes him feel distinctly queasy. Or maybe this is just an anxiety problem, in general. Whatever. He's not a doctor.
He takes a steadying breath or two, hand fluttering vaguely in the vicinity of the blue light in his chest, before the initial alarm seems to taper off. He stoops to pick up the orange, as if he could actually save face at this point. ]
You must not get many second dates.
action;
[The reaction is... unexpected. No tapdancing around that neon sign. Sure, nobody was that sarcastic without protecting themselves from something, but Sans assumed that was a person. Or group of persons.
This seems a little... bigger. He risks a few step closer, hands sliding into his pockets.]
What's your thing?
action;
That's third date material, pal.
[ He leans his weight against the observation glass, going for subtle, hopefully. But his hands are steady when he goes back to peeling the orange, impassively watching Sans' approach, so he'll go ahead and count his blessings. ]
Better question: explain how you just did that, because the potential applications of instant teleportation are many and varied, as I'm sure you can imagine.
action;
Hm.]
Heh, well. [Sans lets it slide, doing what he'd want done if their situations were reversed. Buffing his non-existent nails against his uniform, he shrugs impassively.] Like I said. Just a little mental math once you've got the equation.
[He taps twice on his sternum.] I make my own reactor core.
action;
Well isn't that just so damn convenient.
[ He leans forward, keen interest replacing some of the discomfort. He eyes Sans' chest, almost as if he expects to see a little blue circle of light materialize there. ]
And the physical toll is, what? You gonna fall over dead any minute?
[ CAN A SKELETON EVEN FALL OVER DEAD ]
action;
[Of course, Tony's completely right. There is a physical toll. But that's for Sans to know and him to hopefully never find out.]
Worst case scenario I get a little tired.
action;
[ He gets where Sans is coming from, of course, and it makes sense in a 'bizarre-o land where magic is a thing that phases people through fucking walls' sense. ]
Unless you're gonna tell me the magic you've got cooking in the oven can be measured and observed, in which case, this is going to be a very long conversation.
[ And he's gonna need to grab a scanner or seven. And JARVIS. And maybe something alcoholic. ]
action;
[Sans slumps down onto the observation deck bench, popping his joints one by one.]
N' you already know the answer to that, man. I told you, it's energy. Of course it's measurable. It just behaves in accordance with intangible concepts. Emotion, internal and external. The psyche in general, really. Humans have it too, we're just way better at it.
action;
And here's the thing, I don't usually go very long without understanding things. Not my bag.
[ SHOW HIM THE SOCK DRAWER. ]
action;
Is that a threat? [Though the grin on his face -- one of genuine interest and, dare it be said, happiness -- makes it clear he hardly considers it one.] Emotions are funny things. Science can't always predict 'em.
But we can get damn close.