The Resolve

December 26, 2015:

The Authority members rendezvous at the War Room after the Resolve wakes up and begins to change..

The Resolve


NPCs: Peabody



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

If Deathstroke is busy putting Rant through her paces, that means Audrey has a few minutes to continue her never-ending exploration of the ship. Whether or not she has good reason to distrust their commander, Audrey has a few trust issues of her own at this point, and it gets under her skin not to know more about this place that she has so little control over.

When the great grinding and clanging begins, she's in a quiet hallway that she's reasonably certain she hasn't found before, cloaked as best she can from the sensors in the ship. She suspects Deathstroke knows about these little outings…but then again, it's just more practice.

This, though, is new. Audrey steps back toward the walls, holding out a hand to get her bearings and figure out what's going on.

She's pretty sure she didn't set that off.

Poor Rant. But Lunair has a box of freshly made melty Christmas cookies she's handbaked, and the scent of a delicious oden hot pot being carried. At least, until things start changing. Lunair does some exploration. She seems to like the place. It's safe. No snipers, no special ops, no metahuman hunters, no drones, no nazis, no creepy nazi granpas, no vivisectionists, no - well, one gets the idea.

She is not cloaked. "Oh boy. I hope this isn't because of the Christmas decorations." She did make them tasteful and fun. Hauling the haul with her, she scampers along. Lunair is fairly diligent, but she is also painfully perseverant. She is the pigeon that keeps getting electrocuted and barreling forward to treats. "Guys? Guys!?"



Melody faceplants hard enough into the newly risen wall that she falls backwards in a sickening thud that breaks a few ribs in the course. She rolls, clutching her chest, now regretting that she's letting herself feel, the harsh cough of blood that splatters from her lips and the quiet sounds of everything snapping back into place brings out a slight shriek from the pain. Okay.. okay.. get it together Melody. Don't.. stop.. moving..

She slowly catches herself to her feet, her body at a hunch as she begins to stagger on, one hand reaching out towards the wall to steady herself as she tries to look for a way to find the others.

So funny thing. Turns out when a ship decides to remodel itself, it tends to pay little attention to what the people inside it want from it's spaces. Floors tilt, turn, twist, become walls, walls vanish entirely, panels slide back revealing hallways or rooms that weren't there before. Everything anyone knew about the ship is suddenly very very useless. <Deathstroke to Authority> his voice snaps over the coms that, according to protocol, are to be worn at all times while on the ship, <Get to the warroom immediatly!> he has his 'boss guy' voice on. <Finding it may be difficult.> See how helpful he is?

Slade hops a waist high protrution growing from under the floor like a hurtler might, never breaking his stride or giving up his balance. He reaches where the hallway to his quarters used to be and stares at the doors of his team as they begin to fade into the distance and swing aroudn an invisible pivot point somewhere to his left while a new floor space rises up from below to fill the space. It takes him a moment to recognize the rust colored stain spread across the new floor. He grimaces, <Be advised, the Resolve is rearrainging itself to a new configuration, this includes bringing up peices of the Crucible from below, some of it's tech may still be active.> oh the joy.

<Working on that, sir.> Audrey's voice is steady, but low. Without more intel, she has no way of knowing if this is part of the inscrutable nature of the ship, a test from Deathstroke, or an attack. Either way, there's nothing to be gained by being loud at this point.

The floor twists and shifts beneath her, and the young mutant slides with it, less interested in keeping her feet than in keeping some measure of control over her direction. Movement is for the best right now, as she tries to steady her mental map of the Resolve, weighing it against the sounds she hears. As a wall becomes the floor, she breaks into a run.

Lunair armors up. She's at least able to seal herself off, and offer some physical augmentation. If Rant isn't cloaked, Lunair will try to find and armor her up or carry her, too. "Hihi, Sorry, Rant. I am helping you even if I have to duct tape you into my cleavage to carry you." Thankfully, fate has lead Lunair to the poor Hacker. "You're like, this little sister I never had." Beat. "Well, okay, so my biological family is INCREDIBLY limited, but whatever. I don't want to die like this. So let's go!" She'll do what Rant allows her to. If not, Lunair can at least hang on by her hand. Regardless, she's loaded up as much tech as she can into her suit and will share with Rant. She trusts her.

A trip of a newly risen floor sends Rant sprawling forward, right at the feet of Lunair.

"Sweet Baby Ray Barbecue sauce it's you.." She huffs, slowly crawling to her feet as she bends over, hands planted upon her knees with the hopes of taking a deep, much needed breath. The mentioning of her being a little sister to someone? It just.. warms her to her core, but she couldn't think about that now, they had to get to the war-room.

« Lunair found me. On our way. »

Does Rant accept the help? Nope! She had to do this by the books and alone, but it wouldn't kill to have a blade or two.. right? "I need blades.. like.. real quick.." When Lunair gives it to her, that's when she'll run with her, and it's quite telling as to who leads this pack. Which would be Lunair.. Rant's legs still hurt from the strenous workout that ended right before the shit-storm began.

A trip of a newly risen floor sends Rant sprawling forward, right at the feet of Lunair.

"Sweet Baby Ray Barbecue sauce it's you.." She huffs, slowly crawling to her feet as she bends over, hands planted upon her knees with the hopes of taking a deep, much needed breath. The mentioning of her being a little sister to someone? It just.. warms her to her core, but she couldn't think about that now, they had to get to the war-room.

« Lunair found me. On our way. »

Does Rant accept the help? Nope! She had to do this by the books and alone, but it wouldn't kill to have a blade or two.. right? "I need blades.. like.. real quick.." When Lunair gives it to her, that's when she'll run with her, and it's quite telling as to who leads this pack. Which would be Lunair.. Rant's legs still hurt from the strenous workout that ended right before the shit-storm began.

Bruce Banner is in the R&D labs, relatively stable compared to much of the rest of the facility. That's a good thing for all involved, as high tension situations and Bruce Banner tend to have volatile outcomes. He frowns at the reports of the strange trouble, adding in from his own. "Things aren't falling apart much here. I'll try to make my way to the war room, but how dangerous is travelling going to be? Because I'm not sure if my less pleasant half will either a) head for my intended destination or b) try to tear the place down around him," he says. He takes the time to close out the program he was working in, saving his calculations. He's actually in scientist gear for once, lab coat and all, although the Radiohead t-shirt probably isn't standard scientific issue.

Deathstroke slides under a wall that closes so closely behind him he wonders if maybe he left some hair pinned beneath it, <Do not, I repeat, do NOT attempt to interface with /any/ technology in anyway. Don't so much as plug in an iPhone, if you have anything running and it can be safely shut down, then shut it the fuck down.> he's talking so fast his words are almost running together. If it was anyone else someone might mistake this for fear. <Banner, stay put as long as you're safe, right now it's to uncertain and I can't have the Hulk adding to the chaos. This change has to stop at some point and when it does I need you with your head clear and your words polysylabic.> he spins in a arc and his comms muffled the sound of his pistol barking in rapid succession as a pair of Crucible deathbots turn to look in his direction seeming as confused as he is. He's thirty feet past them before they hit the ground, mess of circuits and wiring where their faces used to be. <Rant, if you get so much as a papercut you wrap it up. DO NOT BLEED ON ANYTHING!> The door to the warroom is ahead of him, he can see it at the end of the hall. Of course, from this angle the distance between it and him is roughly 3 feet of open empty space and a drop into the churning guts of the not changing ship. A glance down reminds him more of an industrial steel shredder then anything mechanical he can recognize. Great.

A deep sigh. Lunair cares about Rant, even if she has to resist the urge to duct tape the girl down sometimes. "Are you SURE you don't want some armor? Learning to do this sometimes involves accepting help, and stuff. I mean, I'm not gonna force you but… oh." She pauses at Deathstroke's words. "Ugh, duck." Lunair has to scoot at something comes over her head. She will give Rant a blade, sure. "At least take a plasma blade or lightsaber. Steel isn't going to do much against - well - whatever metal this is," She admits.

« I found Miss Rant. We're alright. Heading to you. »

"PLEASE let me armor you. Um, wait. One sec." Lunair pulls a mop out of nowhere to mop it up. She's not going to leave the blood behind. « And I'll seal her up if she allows. Hang on, I had to grab a mop… » And then Lunair is going to get summarily knocked onto her backside while mopping.

<So, cut the comms?> Comms are tech, after all. Not that Audrey has a lot of time to spend fiddling with them right now. She goes to make a turn, only to find a wall of spikes rising up in front of her. With a muffled curse, she instead jumps to grab one of the spikes, using the momentum to swing herself down the new turn in the hall. She's still going dark, invisible, though the extra concentration is making it hard to remember which way the war room might be.

Another wall, another round of clanking, and Audrey looks for something to take her…down? Crap. It should be down. And there's a stairwell that wasn't there before. Time to take a chance.

Meh! They were moving, it really made no sense for them to stop now (thanks Lunair! For the mop!) and the duck gets a duck and Melody was upright again, still on the move. "I.. need.. to stay disconnected.. God.. fuckin'.. hate this place hate this place hate this place.." She chants, just overall keeping up with Lunair as she runs them through. Thankfully, she didn't turn on the sabers, but whatever they would have had to run into would have been dealt with hand to hand. Thank Melody for that, being the dummy that she was.. she dropped the blades onto the backpack which was probably devoured by the living ship.

« Ahhh, we might be a little bit late.. » Just a touch..

Because there was a fifty foot panther ramming it's head into a wall that doesn't move for it anymore. They needed to tip-toe past..

Bruce Banner raises an eyebrow, "Okay, I'll stay put. Let me know if you guys need anything, I suppose," he says. He doesn't particularly like the idea of sitting entirely on his ass while his…what are they, exactly? Some friends, some associates, some virtual strangers. Okay, stop navel-gazing, Banner. "Give me at least a sense of what's happening out there so that I can theorize, at least. If I can't use any of the tech, I need something to keep my mind occupied," he says.

Deathstroke's snort can be heard through the comms as he eyeballs the gap and takes a few large steps back from the edge, giving himself a good headstart, <I know this tech, I've seen it before.> he says into the comms, his mind running the calculations for him while he talks, <A long time ago. If we survive it's complete transformation from dormant interdimensional home to warship, we have a chance of getting our home back. I'm going to drop comms here but Banner, start thinking on a way to shut down the core if required… also how to find it.> then his coms go dead. Audrey was right, comms are tech too. He crushes his in his fist, eyes the gap, and charges full out. At the last second he leaps out into open space, his body sailing throuh the air towards the small open door on the otherside.

Down the stairs goes Audrey, skidding out of the stairwell just before the entire section of hall starts to twist and shudder. A few more pounding steps, and the young mutant ducks into the war room. She doesn't crush her comm, but she pulls it out, switching it off and moving into a dark corner of the room before finally dropping her invisibility.

Lunair is staying disconnected. But she does seem to have clawlike weapons on her gauntlets/gloves. "Okay. And we'll be okay. It's not so bad. It beats my days in Africa. At least this just wants to kill me," Perhaps Lunair's cheeriness is born from having seen some of the depths of cruelty and senselessness. Everything else is up and up. She does at least switch off her comm, preferring not to crush it. She does seem to respect Peabody and his work immensely.

She pauses. A look around. Lunair takes a deep breath, and looks to Rant. " Ready? We're going to sprint and jump. Let me know if you want to hold my hand," She doesn't force help on Rant.

But she does care. Lunair is surprisingly nimble, even if she has to drop her armor. She puts a hand over her chest and grits her teeth. Time for a (metaphorical) balls to the wall sprint in a zig zag.

No more comms? Fine. The piece was tugged from her ear and tossed aside, and the big cat? Yeah, he was still banging his head. The room begins to move again as she looks towards Lunair, her head shaking as she turns to walk the small distance that was needed. "This time, I think I got you.."

And then she bursts! The neck-break speed she has as a meta-human comes in handy as she scoops up Lunair by the wrist, thankfully she'd have armor on because Melody just might break it. And it really wasn't a full tilt-sprint. Nope. It was a sprint, filled with hops and jumps that clears the distance so quick that the fifty foot cat could barely keep up with.

But.. Melody being Melody totally missteps.. the floor itself shifting and allowing that tiny little space for the two girls to slip through and fall flat from the ceiling and right towards the main table in the warroom. Something was about to get broken…

Bruce Banner spends a couple of minute rummaging about, trying to find an actual pad of paper along with a pen to write with. Most everything's done on thinkpads and computers now, so having the old fashioned stuff right on hand isn't as necessary. He finally pulls out one of those gridded lab notebooks and starts scribbling, working on schematics and marking notes as he tries to figure out, from location and particular power flows, where precisely the optimal location of the core would be. Presuming that the designer created it with proper engineering, of course, which, given that the place is currently trying to turn itself into a giant game of Tetris, may or may not be true.

Deathstroke's body hits the doorway hard, right in the middle, folding him over the entrance with a forceful WOOSH of breath. The gun skitters from his hand and he starts to slide back out the door, his weight unevenly distributed. His fingers grip the inside of the doorframe just before he would vanish from view and his shoulders bunch in twisted knots for a moment before he pulls himself up and into the warroom proper. He doesn't bother to take a moment to catch his breath he just walks over and pulls a knife from the sheath at the base of his spine. He uses the blade to poke the intercom on so what is said in here pipes into the RnD labs. He steps to the side slightly as Rant sails past and slams into the warrooms table. It does not so much as register her impact, one imagines this means she'll have a bruise. He starts speaking as if nothing had happened, "Years ago my team and I were sent to a research station buried under the icecaps in Antartica, a black site so dark that when when it fell off of coms they couldn't send anyone that technically exsisted. Eleven of us went in, eleven of the most dangers men and women on the planet, the type of killers to put fear into hearts of hard men. Five of us walked out, well, metaphorically. We had to carry two of the five." part of him wishes Taskmaster were here for this, he was there after all, but then with his memory issues there's no telling if the man would recall any of it. Maybe that's for the best. Slade can't forget anything ever which is more nightmare then most would understand.

"They were working with alien technology they dug out of some Greecian ruins over four thousand years old, technically this stuff was older, underneath it." apparently he's not big on wasting time checking on everyones status, he just starts the debrief, getting down to business. "They poked it with sticks like idiots and it poked back. It was a probe of some kind, a scouting drone designed to find a planet with life and assimilate the life until it understood it's biology. It must have been damaged in the landing because it had been dormant, then they got out their poking sticks and…" he turns to face the group, knife sliding back into it's place behind him. "it did what it was programmed to do. It attached itself to biological tissue, insinuated itself into the structures there and began to break them down for analysis. When we arrived only-" there's a flicker of something in his eye, not fear, maybe sadness? It's almost impossible to tell, "one scientist still possessed his own mind, though his body had become a nightmare amalgomation of technology and flesh, a fourteen foot tall mountain of other scientists corpses, lab animals, even plants, all meshed into a great fleshy blob with computer screens and wireing and protrustions. He managed to tell us what was happening before begging us to kill him. Needless to say we scorched the earth." he points up at the ceiling, "That's where I learned this language, or at least bits of it. I know enough to understand the Resolve is a ship of the same species and it has detected 'the enemy', whatever that is, and it is configuring itself from dormant mode to warship." his eye narrows, "I'm not against the configuration, I'm against it happening out of our control. I do not know what interfacing with this technology will due to us but better safe then sorry. For now keep your interactions with tech to a minimum, before it was able to invade exsisting technology and adapt it on the fly, like an airbourne technovirus of somekind. So far I havn't detected any of the spores in the air," he taps his nose, "and that may have been a unique function of the drone sent to earth millenia ago, but I don't want to risk it until we're sure."

He looks around the room, face flat and businesslike, "Any questions?"

Audrey sets her comm on the table as the others fall into the room, silent for Deathstroke's explanation. When he finishes, she only has one response: "Orders?"

"Whoa!" Lunair is a bit surprised. For better or worse, Lunair is a technical type of fighter - she uses a lot of tech! She is in awe, then all of a sudden, they go flying. Lunair arcs gracefully, landing hard on her back on the table, like a drunken, frat boy swan after a 72 hour bender. "No questions. Only pain." And she is face up when Rant lands.


Melody lands upon the table with Lunair, and bounces clean off. She didn't bleed, thankfully, but she does slap a hand against the table as he goes through the entire info dump without so much as a blink. Slowly, she rises to a stand.. she wasn't as vigilant as Audrey, she was still hurting from the training from the entire day.. no, days.

"Mother.. fucker.." She hisses out, her body at a clear hunch and.. yes. She was crying. But at least it wasn't a full blown wail! Give credit where credit.. may not be due.

Bruce Banner sighs to himself as he listens to Deathstroke's explanation. "Wait, so, you're saying we're on a ship made by some unspecified alien species, whose technology previously showed itself a tendency towards devouring human flesh and turning it into bizarre gestalts as an experimental protocol? That's…okay, I'm just going to take a moment to calm down…" he says, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to meditate..

Deathstroke sighs aloud at Banner's words, "Yes. Obviously had I /known/ that we would not have taken up residence here." he states simply, "You can be assured it will be a sticking point that I take up with our… benefactor upon our return to Earth." his tone suggests that discussion will be spectacular and filled with violence. "But for now I need your brain on the problem Banner. The core. We cut the power we stop this thing from doing what it's going to do next, which if I'm correct means driving itself somewhere. You and Peabody combine your noggins and get me control of my goddamned base back." his head swivvels over to Lux and her single word question almost makes him smile, god he loves a professional, "You take Armory for support, the pair of you scout out and locate either the core or the bridge, whichever comes first. You've been scouting the ship as a whole, sneaking about, start with all the places you havn't been before, I suspect the doors will all be open now as it's no longer attempting to conserve power reserves." then he turns to Rant, "And you. You and me are going to figure out a way to rule out airbourne technoviruses as a threat. I suspect, due to the fact that my healing factor hasn't gone into hyperdrive, that this ship does not possess that capability, but I want to be certain." he chews up the next question and spits it out, "So where do we begin?" this is more her thing then his and … that irks him slightly.

"Bruce Goose. Oceans. Cheetoes. Marijuana.. and more oceans." Was that Melody's way of keeping him calm? Heck, she's only met the green guy three times but she had to try something, right? "Oh, McDonalds. Crispy chicken sandwiches." Now it sounds like she was luring the Hulk out. With that realization, she shuts up.

As Lunair and Lux get their walking orders, Melody slowly climbs upon the war table, foregoing the chairs that surround it, her legs folded indian style with a slight grunt as she wipes the tears from her face with a push of her forearm. Elbows soon plant upon her thighs, fingers pressing together as her eyes slowly become vacant. She was thinking.

"You said to not bleed anywhere. I bled all over this place." She wrinkles her nose slightly, then shrugs. "My nanites primary programming is to attack infected cells within my body to 'eat' and uses as fuel to self sustain, if that makes sense. But since they've integrated over the years at a cellular level and with some weird.. gene that our family carries allowed it to evolve yet still retaining its primary modus opperandi." But there was a technovirus.

"I know! Give me a metal rod, a washer, a couple of batteries and some wire."

Bruce Banner is momentarily focused on keeping himself…himself. Rant's encouragement actually makes him smile, against his usual nature, and so he sighs. "Yes, I think Hulk might like to go along whenever you have that talk with them," he says. He's working to try and embrace his other self more, to not be so full of self-hatred, trying to come to some sort of understanding, if not quite peace with the situation. "I'll start theorizing countermeasures in case any sort of assimilation technology is unleashed. And I'll work on seeing if I can put together and emergency EMP device just in case we have to deactivate the whole thing. I should have some spare parts around here that aren't plugged in that won't require interacting with active tech," he says.

Deathstroke eyes Rant for a moment before he pulls the rather large knife rrom it's place at his back and flips it around, handing it to her hilt first, then he moves to the base of the wartable and pulls the short half of his staff from his back and flicks it to life before shoving it's end against the metal there. There's the acrid smell of molten metal and curls of smoke then he comes back up with a fist full of fiber optics and copper wire, these he drops in her lap despite them still being warm and then he looks around, "There's still power to the table, but I don't have batteries." he'd kill a president for his armor right now.

Rant reaches out for the blade, falling silent as she listens to Bruce's voice over the airways. The handle was gripped and rested into her lap as everything else was dropped upon her, hot.. burning her.. her leg quickly moving to allow it to clatter to the table as she silently gets to work. "EMP works on me as well." She says aloud, not bothering to look up towards Slade to see what he was doing. "So.. maybe you should be wary about how much power you put into that thing, yeah?" She glances up towards the ceiling, then rubs her hands together.

"So, I'm creating a reverse respiration device. Or trying to at least. But the hope and theory is that instead of keeping airborne diseases out, it could possibly let us know that something is out there by bringing it in." She pauses. "If that makes a load of sense." She wasn't a great tinkerer, but she could fix things like the best of them. And as she gets started, she draws her hands to look and then soon.. lick. Yes. She licks her hands and gets to work.


Bruce Banner says in his deadpan voice, "I'm well aware of your vulnerabilities, Melody. I have reprogrammed your systems before, if you'll recall, and I did it without even installing any appusing apps. Probably," he says. "I'm going to work on a targeted system, a sort of EMP gun. I don't have enough battery power here to create something that could affect the facility as a whole, but it would at least let us take down any cybernetic monstrosities that might pop up or disable any misfiring security systems threatening to chop you lot into itty bitty pieces," he says.

Deathstroke just stares at Rant as she works, letting the nerds talk. He has only the vaugest idea of what they're doing but then again that is /why/ he recruited them to begin with. He needed nerds on the team, the world is evolving and therefore so must he and his profession. Cyber whatits and robo doohickeys are the wave of the future, he needs to be prepared… He tugs another handful of scrap from the table, making it's lighting flicker, "Found a washer." he says flatly, flicking it like a coin into Rant's pile of bits.

It was an odd process, though Melody was an odd duck to the fact that she had to bleed on things just to take control. Still, they were working on alternate ways of getting that sort of thing done so licking her hands would have to do. But lord bless whoever she decides to bed, for the corrosive way her nanites begin to work and break down the materia as she bends, twists, and presses, her eyes a clear glow of red as she looks up towards the ceiling again to pause in her work.


The washer was taken and soon bonded to the materia, Melody lifting it briefly to look through as she grabs a few wires, her fingers tapping together to draw upon the electricity within the warroom. "So, turns out I can shoot lightening from my finger-tips. Useful against demons. Need a working outlet though, which sucks." She tells Deathstroke. But she does apply that little bit to the doohickey to power it for a minimal time. "Okay.. so not sure if this thing'll work." Yeah, she didn't use the blade, she was totally going to keep it. "But.. here." She tosses it towards the man, then turns to slide and jump off of the table. "First place where airborne technovirus should travel.. if we're looking for a any type of virus at all.. is.. well, bedrooms, kitchens, bathrooms, and where Bruce and Peabody are."

Bruce Banner chimes in, "Good news, I have created the basic outlines of a device. I have had to cannibalize some parts from a few things we had around the lab, though. So, apologies to Peabody for what I had to do to his retro gaming consoles. On the plus side, I've installed the Tech Killer inside his old Power Glove. I'll find someone else to wielld it eventually, just because there's every possibility that I could Hulk out and rip it to shreds, undoing all of my good work, but for now, I'm strapped and ready to gak," he says.

Deathstroke eyes Rant for a moment, "And this is why we take tactical classes." he says pointedly, "If this were my ship and I possessed a weapon like that I would not be so foolish as to limit it's dispersal to limited areas, I would have built it into life support to begin with so that it would flood everything at once." and he assumes that any species powerful and intelligent enough to create transforming ships that travel through the Bleed would be smart enough to understand limited tactical weaknesses in it's defences. "Here will work just fine, if anywhere at all." he eyes her gadget, "So… you want to use that thing or what? Because honestly not having even basic tech is making my skin itch." mostly because it means as soon as they leave the room they'll lose communication with the Weapon Of Smash Destruction he keeps in his basement. Which could be bad. Verra verra bad.

Melody gives Deathstroke an insufferable look. Which was immediately retracted. "Okay okay.." She murmurs quietly, rubbing her arms just a touch. "Well.." She gestures towards the device in his hands. "All you need to do is walk around, let the air catch it. I didn't put any alarms or any sounding devices on the inside without the batteries but it should heat up in your hands if something is amiss in the air." The reason why she wasn't holding it? Because goddamn it, her body was still screaming and she needed a break before she stroked out.

"Maybe Bruce could fanagle something on his end, he's separate and away from us." She glances up, then shrugs if he could see it. "You may be on your own, Goose."

Bruce Banner chimes in from where he is, "Wouldn't be the first time. I'm okay with trying to take a look at the systems. I do have my EMP and, worst case scenario, if they try to infiltrate my systems, I suspect my auto-immune defenses are sufficient to override whatever might try to possess me. I'ma lready infected with something plenty potent on its own, after all," he says. "I'll be careful, though, let me see if I can boot up and maybe at least firewall you guys off from the rest of the facility so you can use the war room as usual…"

Deathstroke moves through the room, waving Rant's magic wand thingie and sighing heavily. He feels ridiculous and this entire thing is wasting time, time he's not sure they have to spare. He's not even certain anyone else has noticed yet but the faint tremors of shifting metal stopped a full twenty seconds past. It's done altering it's form which means the clock is ticking. "How long do I do this?" he asks irritably before adding, "Becareful Dr. Banner, you don't know this tech like I do, your auto immune responces would not be the first meta cells they've come in contact with and overpowered." he dosen't elaborate.

Even if Deathstroke felt ridiculous, Melody was getting a silent kick out of it. But if his hand wasn't burning up in those instances of him waving it around.. either it wasn't working or there was no virus in the air. He even said it himself, if his healing factor wasn't kicking into high gear they were safe. For now at least. Though.. she idly wonders who would be hit first, and the hardest. Probably the bigger guy who burns more heat..

"Either it's not working or the air is clean. But if you want, you can wave it around for good measure, you know, for memories." She smiles just a little, though frowns a touch as she listens to the men banter. This really, really wasn't the time for jokes. "This is all I got, I'm not the brainiac like Peabody and Bruce.."

Even if Deathstroke felt ridiculous, Melody was getting a silent kick out of it. But if his hand wasn't burning up in those instances of him waving it around.. either it wasn't working or there was no virus in the air. He even said it himself, if his healing factor wasn't kicking into high gear they were safe. For now at least. Though.. she idly wonders who would be hit first, and the hardest. Probably the bigger guy who burns more heat..

"Either it's not working or the air is clean. But if you want, you can wave it around for good measure, you know, for memories." She smiles just a little, though frowns a touch as she listens to the men banter. This really, really wasn't the time for jokes. "This is all I got, I'm not the brainiac like Peabody and Bruce.."

Bruce Banner responds, "Don't worry, Slade. I practically invented some aspects of computer hacking, quite literally, when I was a teenager. I'm not going to let some alien assholes get the better of me. I've got the power grid up, it's looking pretty jigsaw, but I'll see what I can do," he says. There's a relatively bland period where he's largely just punching keys and not really talking to them, focusing his immense intellect on the task at hand. He does occasionally mutter under his breath, a combination of fragments of song lyrics or just murmured cursing. Finally, he says, "Okay, I think I've managed to isolate your systems there in the war room. Gonna try to control-alt-delete in there, so, fingers crossed, you should be getting a DOS prompt soon. Oh, Slade, a DOS prompt is…y'know, nevermind, Melody gets me. Because she's much smarter than she thinks she is."

Deathstroke drops the wand on the floor next to the gun he dropped earlier and which he picks up now and slides into it's place on his thigh. He then heads for the door, "There are spare coms located in each main room, there should be some for you there if you destroyed yours earlier, encryption key alpha, gemini, 2, 3, fiver to unlock. Air is clean or as clean as we can figure. Rant and I are on our way to your location Dr. Banner. I'd prefer we were together for the hunt, if you have an episode I'd rather know sooner then it be sprung on me by surprise." Also Rant seems capable of helping keep Banner calm, which is a nice card to have laying around. At Banner's words Slade's mouth ticks to one side, "All due respect Dr. Banner, and realize I use that phrase literally when considering that it was you I chose to recruit as my head of science in this endeavour of ours, but we're in a self altering presumably AI driven war ship capable of long term sustainability outside of exsistence in the place between places, a civilization that was capable of biojacking technoviruses four millenia ago. As much as I respect your skills, think how primitive we were four millenia ago and how far we've come. Assuming a race smart enough to build this thing was capable of that same speed of technological increase, how many millenia do you suspect your understanding of even the basic principles of their technology might be? You're a smart man, I'd hazard to say one of the twenty greatest minds of this generation, but this is a /species/ who's dumbest grunt soldier could opperate the systems of this vessel with ease." he connects the two ends of his staff together and the ends glow faintly as he pauses at the side of the door and lifts one of the spare comms ear buds from the wall and slides it into place on his ear. He uses the encryption phrase and the coms hum to life, he continues speaking then as he walks through the door and out onto an unfamiliar ship design assuming Rant will follow. He heads in the vauge direction of where he hopes RnD is still located, "I like confidence, not arrogance. Be honest, how worried should I be?"

And.. Melody keeps the blade! It's hers now, can't take it back. Him heading for the door was her cue to move and she falls in line, twirling the blade back to latch upon the holster that her lesser gear provides. She reaches up with a high lift upon her toes to snatch the comm piece from its space, twisting it and issuing the commands just as he repeats. She remains silent all the while, her shoulders rolling and working trying to work out the kinks, righting her body into a forced upright position even though she's screaming for a means to lay down and take a rest. But before she leaves the warroom? Water bottle, taken, uncapped, swigged, and shoved within her pocket as soon as the cap was back on.

But she was following, silent and alert as ever. If Deathstroke and Bruce Banner weren't -as- worried? She'd carry the rest of it all for them.

Bruce Banner makes an audible smirk when he responds, "Are you sure you didn't miss out on a career as a motivational speaker there, Captain Blood? Given that I'm the one who'd be eaten alive by weirdo alien freak infection if I screw up, I can assure you that I'm fully aware of my limitations. A certain amount of bluster and bravado is simply part of the hacker's code," he says. "That said, if it will make keep your diapers dry, I'll just keep my hands to myself while I wait for you and Rant to arrive."

Deathstroke snorts at that, "We're trapped in a literal infinite void amid a ship that thinks it's a transformer built by an alien species known to enjoy a good microscopic drone aided vivisection of life they discover in their journeys, if you require greater motivation then that Dr. Banner, then I fear this is not the profession for you, perhaps something as a barrista is in order." he begins a punishing run through the halls, his head on a swivel, scanning everything as he pushes himself onward. Rant will just love another run through the ship, she's only had 2 so far today, good warm up those, "Copy that. On our way. I think."

The ship has indeed changed, altered itself impressively. The hallways are wider, in fact most of the spaces are more open then they were before, with twenty foot vaulted ceilings and vastly improved lighting. Where things were clean but dim before, now the ship is a sparkling shine of perfectly built and equipped function. It's made to accomidate large numbers of people, there are colored lines along the carefully engraved filligree in the walls, possibly a language of some kind, and as Slade rounds a corner he finds a lit up wall panel with something akin to a map. He stops there, his eye scanning the thing in a few quick flicks, "That look like an atom to you?" he asks, pointing to a small image on the map, the map accepts the point as a command and zooms in, bringing the opliptical orbits around a central dot symbol to the forefront. "The sort of thing one might universally put on a science like room? Or… maybe an engine room?" the fact that he's asking Rant should make her happy. It's like he values her opinion or something.

"And why couldn't we just pick a yacht or some really big barge ship and be stuck out in the middle of the Atlantic is really beyond me." Because Melody would get sea sick, it took her maybe a week to get used to the motions of this proverbial ocean, pun completely intended. She doesn't add more to the commentary, because he was breaking out into a break neck run that had Melody nearly wanting to cry again because she didn't want to do it. But she bit back the burn felt behind the eyes and pressed on, feet beating the newly reformed floors, fingers clutching into a fist as she tries to ignore the screaming pain and not bite out random 'fuck yous' and 'i hate you I quit' towards the man leading the charge. At least she has /that/ going for her.

The colored lines were a new thing.. something that nearly causes her to slow, her eyes alighting in a bright blue glow as she stares down the walls to record the writings placed there. It would be something 'neat' for her to study.. if she ever makes it out of this one alive. The rounding of the corner slows her so much that she nearly curls, the bottle of water taken, sipped, replaced again as she walks towards the console that he stares into.. her eyes still a harsh glow as her brows furrow deeply.

"Could be both. But I'm betting on an engine room, depending on how this ship is powered. It almost reminds me of something nuclear.." Yeah, must be engine. "You said this ship is living.. it may just be listening to you and pointing you to where we need to be.."

Bruce Banner is doing what he said and has now reverted to doodling in his calculations pad while he waits, mostly to stay calm, although he does keep an eye out the markers of their location out of the corner of his eye, just to make sure that Mel and Deathstroke aren't horribly mutilated, folded and spindled. Well, Mel, at least.

Deathstroke eyes her, "Boats are untactically sound, this base is untraceable, unfindable, utterly off the grid. It is defensible and designed to be impregnible when required. "That would be nice." he says off handedly before turnign to follow the lines of hte map. He saw it once, he won't need to see it again to recall it. As he goes he notices a faint pulsing yellow light along the wall, the symbol was in yellow on the map. This place may be more intuitive then he thought.

It's a longish sprint but a short run, and the pulsing yellow light takes them directly to RnD, not the engine room, or to be more accurate, a row of RnD labs along a hallway about fifty feet long, two labs per side. Banner is behind the third door they open, Slade coming through staff up and ready just in case. Glance. Checks the corners. Then nod, "Dr. Banner." he says almost conversationally, "I'll take a peppermint mocha, I'm feeling festive. Also Merry Christmas." because yeah, that's happenign today too.

"I know that. But this place is also trying to kill us without even knowing it's trying to kill us." Or was it. But it did give her a very, very awesome room so she'll stop complaining. Plus he was on the move again, which has her grunting and bearing with it all, keeping at his six and not too far behind the path that they follow.

Once they take that third door into the room, she doesn't step in until Bruce was addressed, her fingers soon tucking into her hair to scratch hard at her scalp and in bad need of a fucking shower. "Goose." Formal. Nice. "Yeah.. first Christmas I'm going to miss. Bet my parents think I committed suicide.." Which, doesn't sound half bad right about now.

Cynicism aside, she strolls fully into the room, pulling out the chair to take a seat into it's plushness, nearly rolling back as she falls into it, her chest heaving ever so slightly. She really didn't know how far she could go, she probably reached her limit ages ago.

Bruce Banner raises an eyebrow at Melody, "With your father, you'd probably be better off letting him think that. Crank," he says. He'd been irritated with Melody's father on several occasions and wasn't particularly fond of the gentleman. "Merry Festivus to you, Deathstroke. I am not a fucking barista, so, y'know, help yourself. I don't think we have peppermint mocha, but we do have coffee. I'll see if I can scrounge up a candy cane and a hershey's kiss for you to dip in it. Given how Peabody usually makes coffee, they'll probably immediately melt."

"Okay, I'm going to go ahead and barricade us in, so get out your sleeping bags for the slumber party…"

Deathstroke's staff snikts back down into it's more travel friendly size and he shakes his head, "You two go ahead, I don't need to sleep." of course he doesn't, "And while the big changes are done," he points up at the still lightly pulsing pink/red lights, "I'm not fond of that. Catch what rest you can, soon as Lux and Armory report in we're oscar mike."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License