Tests and Rockets

March 01, 2018:

Bruce and Rocket discuss and invention, and Bruce apologizes for before.



NPCs: None.

Mentions: Iron Man


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

There are several outdoor areas near R&D, though some of them are used for things like warmup jogging, somebody's yoga, or whatever other activity. There's a concrete platform just outside of several of the buildings with a chainlink fence around it, clearly an area to do smaller outdoor tests.

And that is where Bruce is, bent over a cluster of equipment he has set up, and a rounded little group of nodes he sets out in a semi-circle around that, crisscrossed with wires. Bruce backs off a little way, refers to his remote. Adjusts his glasses.


The machine responds with a thrust and a rev of power, a forcefield appearing in a golden halo and then bursting like a blown bubblegum bubble. Bruce gets knocked well back on his butt, about eight feet. There was some equipment boxes there, and he lands in those. Whoopsy.

Who ever heard of an area closed off for yoga? What a waste of space! Rocket had found out one day just how seriously some people took such activities. They had some definite objections to his bringing a duffle bag full of explosives for field testing.

Today he has no such bag, nor does work seem to be the raccoonoid's intent as he wanders along the paths, sipping on a smoothie, his other hand buried in the pocket of his dark blue hoodie. It's not so much that someone's conducting some kind of experiment so much as the sudden noise that perks his attention. It's not quite the sound of an explosion, but it's a considerable amount of power humming somewhere.

So naturally the thing to do is investigate, right? And that Rocket does.

"Ohoohoo… Do it again!" comes a voice that Bruce likely might not care for, overhead as the little Guardian's clambered up onto the few boxes yet remaining stacked, peering over it towards the set up. He then glances down, visibly cringing as he realizes who's landed there.

Someone walking over cheerful and then cringing upon seeing him? Yep, that's actually pretty normal around here. Bruce really does take it in stride very well. Because the alternative isn't great. Bruce doesn't seem to carry over hostility from their last encounter, either. And it isn't like he forgot the raccoon: Rocket is certainly memorable.

"Sure. I need to see if I can't make it worse, first," Banner answers with a dry amusement, extricating himself from the gear boxes. He's not hurt, at least not more than a few scuffs and bruises. He looks around for where the protective glasses went. "Have you seen my glasses?" he asks, turning. They're actually caught in the back of his coat collar, when they flew off his head, dangling.

Huh. Okay, Rocket can work with that. Shrugging, he drops back down around the back of the pile so he can come around the side. He sets the smoothie cup on another box, trying not to side-eye the man as though looking for any traces of green.

"What were you trying to do, anyway? I'm assuming getting knocked backwards isn't part of it," he says, smirking just a little, but that's Rocket for you. At the question he tilts his head before gesturing behind his own neck.

Bruce is quick, he looks at Rocket's hint, and then releases a somewhat bashful, embarrassed laugh, and reaches back to snare the glasses from his back. He manages to dislodge them, but catches them before they drop to the ground. It's not very graceful but he managed. He squints at them, and sets them on his forehead.

"It is part of it, but less for me personally," Bruce says. He then explains, waggling the remote a little bit, "Repulsing, but exclusionary of some targets in range. Obviously it wasn't calibrated correctly to exclude me," Bruce says. "But the beacons are there, so they didn't get thrown." Bruce doesn't at all mind explaining what he's up to, really. "Biologicals are always messier, always. Too many teleport experiments ending up with something out of 'The Fly'," Bruce shudders. And blushes a bit. "Or otherwise." Like, Hulks. He looks at the remote, and then Rocket. It's a human 'serious face'. Something serious is coming.

Fuzzy brows lift as the raccoonoid begins to nod slowly. "Oh~, I see," he says as he strokes his chin, looking back towards the things that had been set in place thoughtfully.

"Lotta variables working with biologicals, sure. If it were by Terrans you could probably just set by thermal readings or somethin' but…" Pause. Squint. He notes the look. He's not sure he trusts it.


"I'm sorry for overreacting to your actions before," Bruce says, finally, after a little bit of hedging. "And I appreciate your efforts to correct the lab," he adds, tapping the remote slowly against his other palm. He clears his throat. "It isn't my intention to … inflict my particular issue on others, which is the main reason for the warnings and solitude of the lab."

Bruce looks at the device instead of at Rocket, and walks over to it, opening the side, flipping a switch, and then coming back. He rights one of the gear boxes that was thrown, and uses the console on it, checking on readings and making some changes for the test.

"Oh, that. Um…" Rocket scratches his head, glancing away awkwardly. People do not usually apologize to him on the account that more often than not anything that gets directed his way is usually justified or expected.

After a moment, the Guardian waves his hand. "Eh, no harm done." Not more than could have been, or so he has the feeling. The girls had been 'kind' enough to explain the things that didn't come in a printed pamphlet when concerning one Bruce Banner. He almost felt sorry for the guy, or maybe it was just that on some odd level, he could possibly relate.

…Rocket just didn't go transforming into some giant uncontrollable…. Oh wait, no, that did happen once. Ummm. BUT ANYWAY.

As Bruce goes back to his tinkering, the raccoonoid drifts over to watch. "You know, if you're gonna keep this up maybe you should invest in a crash helmet. And maybe a suit of armor."

"To protect the facility? Yes, I know," Bruce says with a little bit of mixed guilt. Evidently he's not concerned of blasting the hell out of himself. It's the collateral damage?

"A little toss won't hurt anything, though. This shouldn't be dangerous; the zone was just a bit large on the fringe there. I got a bit cocky, since it worked on a smaller scale," Bruce chuckles softly in a very not-cocky manner. Bruce doesn't attempt to protect his inventing from Rocket's view. Bruce has some guesses on what the raccoonoid is interested in, at least roughly, based on the parts that were pilfered before.

"Besides, I'm —good at breaking armor," Bruce says in a low dismay; it is the opposite of bragging. "Stark is pretty forgiving about it."

"-uh, no, unless you just like bein' used as a crashtest dummy." Snarky as his words are, Rocket seems sincere about it. But to be honest, collateral damage is never something he's much inclined to worry about. This is a guy that makes explosives that can potentially detonate small moons.

Rolling his eyes as Bruce insists that he's fine with taking a bit of a beating, Rocket digs around in another pocket and draws out a small disc-shaped device, waving it in hand before he tosses it over. "Personal shield generator. Save you a few dings and you don't have to wear a helmet if you're worried about yer hair."

Bruce absently rakes a hand back through his hair. It might benefit from a helmet. Certainly wouldn't really hurt, it's nothing special as-is. He loses the glasses though, when he does that. And just bends to pick them up.

"Hmmm. It may interfere with my test, though. —But knowing if it IS interference is a good thing to add into the test suite. Thank you. I'll get it back to you soon," Bruce says, appreciative, and honestly genuine about it, apparently.

"What I meant was, so far I've been pretty impervious. If this COULD harm me, that might be useful to know. It could be useful." Maybe for a masochist.

That's about what Rocket seems to think as he gives Bruce a funny look. "What, really? I mean, you wouldn't be my first choice for a meatshield," he says with a bit of a snicker. He goes to inspect the nodes, tail swishing slowly as he considers the placement.

"So ultimately, how big's this thing supposed to be and where's it gonna be installed?" He doubts that it's supposed to stay out here, little good as it seems to be outside in the middle of nowhere, but he never can tell with these Terrans.

A sigh. "Well, no. I agree. I'm not anyone's first choice," Bruce laughs. "More of a fall-back, we have no other options, it might be worse than the current problem, last-resort sort of thing." Bruce is trying to make light of something he feels really pretty awful about, and isn't very good at it. Still, he smiles and moves along on the device.

"I'm mostly just doing research on what happens with changes in scale and proximities now: with how it filters different things. I have it pushing outwards now, but the better idea is that it could yank something in. Deploy, and it can pull missiles in that otherwise were locked to you. Or a villain that's too fast for many of us to even aim at: a field could catch them, potentially. And if I can get it to respond to specific signatures…." Bruce trails off, and looks at it. "Well, work in progress. Sometimes things end up being entirely different purposes than I originally intended, too." And that's okay.

"You have serious self-esteem issues."

Rocket shakes his head, folding his arms as he looks at Bruce. He then turns his attention back towards everything as the man explains the intentions of his testing.

"Okay, yeah. That makes sense. And it never hurts to have a bit'a flexability with this kinda stuff."

He makes a show of rolling up his sleeves. "Well, I got nothin' better to do an' Groot's napping in the couch." In, not on. "Let's see what we can crank out here, eh?"

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