[Cap isn't on the premises today, which means that Tony's dream scenario of Rogers getting told off by a robot are all but dashed, but it's probably just as well -- they may be on better terms these days, but his recent run-in with Barnes at the villa was just the most extreme of a few reminders that he still shouldn't let Rogers in on all of his business.
And this business happens to be... a human trapped in a robot body? Is that the narrative he's going with? Sure, he'll stick with that for now, especially since he's pretty sure that's the take Simon Jarret's going to be bringing into the shop. Tony spends the hour or so between their text conversation and roughly-appointed meeting mulling it over, as he sets up his corner of the lab with the hardware and software he'll be using to run diagnostics on whatever "tech-related" issue Simon happens to be experiencing. That includes facing his monitors away from the spot where he'll be sitting -- robot-existential-crisis stage fright and all that.
It doesn't take long between a walking diving rig shuffling into the gym and one of the part-time trainers hollering into the back room that Tony has an "uh... visitor?" Tony himself ambles up to the door of his and Bruce's lab, and makes a wide-armed gesture to the interior of the converted back-office area to welcome Simon in.]
As promised, the "place where I do stuff like this." [He shoos the trainer away and shuts the door behind Simon as he makes his way toward his daily workspace. The area is fairly large -- about the size of a high school classroom, with an extra closet tacked on to the rear to boot. Most of it is taken up by an assortment of long tables and desks, which look like they were either picked up from a curbside rescue or inherited from the previous owners of the gym, but that's where the appearance of shabbiness ends. Otherwise, the collections of wires, monitors, beakers, microscopes, and other technological-slash-biological gizmos seem fairly organized and well-kept, even if a massive, sheet-covered figure seems to be taking up about a quarter of the room at the back.
Tony rests a hand on a desk and turns toward his guest.]
[ Being an "uh..."-something is just Simon's life now. The part of him that still refuses to believe any of this, that knows he is human and feels like he's in one of those nightmares full of people you know who aren't acting like themselves, where you're in the horribly alone position of being seemingly the only person in the world who hasn't gone crazy — that part's stubbornly alive and startled every time, so the rest of him can get used to it. He can't completely get used to it. If he did that, he'd lose... something indefinable.
He enters with the Omnitool in his hand, held level with his thigh. He's free of deer ears or the massive metal Yggdrasils that make it difficult to accomplish things like getting through doors and not scaring the shit out of people.
As Tony closes the door behind him, he takes stock of the place. When he's welcoming him in, Simon is already wandering down the length of the lab, slow and with a cautious, fractional bend to the waist, but still not as tentative as someone so unqualified to be in here could probably stand to be. He doesn't touch anything, but he doesn't exactly shy away from it, either.
Of course it reminds him of PATHOS-II, not that many of the rooms still looked like this by the time he got there — or ever had. It's sleeker, closer to what Simon would've envisioned The Future looking like. He could see glimpses of something like it in Catherine's lab, in the scribblings and whiteboards and eager orange paint of Theta. Places where great things were being done, and everyone involved knew it was Important.
He does a half-turn toward Tony while he moves toward the massive covered thing, not even aware he's ensuring that the door isn't behind him. ] What's that thing?
[ He half-expects to hear the grinding actuators of a zombified UH coming to painful life under the sheet. It's partly curiosity that makes him ask that instead of answering the question. Part, maybe, some deep-down reluctance to leave the comforting ambiguity of Schrodinger's Catherine behind and start this process that's already ended in failure before. ]
[Tony waves his hand in dismissal.] Ongoing project. Nothing pertinent to your, uh, extremely unique situation, which... [he drops into a swivel chair in front of one of the tables and half-spins toward Simon,] I can't help but notice you keep putting off talking about.
[He swipes a hand over the console next to him and a hologram fritzes to life beside him, about the size of a flatscreen monitor, except with a little more depth of field. He swipes past a couple icons of folders and windowed menus until he finally taps a user icon and brings up a 3D model. Rough-around the edges, like it was sketched in z-space rather than scanned from a real-life model, but definitely not dissimilar to Simon's unique silhouette.]
Like. I could think about a million ways we could shore up your situation, starting with a quality of life increase from that particular-- [he gestures vaguely at the suit,] -- casing, but first you gotta give me an idea where to start.
[Tony would be lying if he said he wasn't keen on cracking the dive suit open ASAP to see the wiring inside, but he's also got a feeling from the cautious way Simon steps through the lab that he might not be the first one who's had that thought -- and definitely not the meanest.]
[ Simon is startled to see the prep work Tony's already done for (what he assumed to be) the problem. He's even more startled at the suggestion that he be put into another... "casing" entirely, and his eyes snap to Tony's as soon as the sentence is out. He's less keen on that than ever, and he wasn't keen on it the first time, when Catherine brought up the idea that he could be scanned again to traverse the abyss.
But it's good news, right? He could build Catherine another body... what kind she'd want, Simon has no idea, but. ]
Thanks, but it's not for me. [ He pulls the cortex chip out of the Omnitool, small and clunky, with its reaching tendrils of the same chitinous hardened glop that forms the bulk of Simon's antlers, when they exist. He holds it up. There's an entire person inside something this tiny. ]
I need to get the data off of this. Angela — the blonde woman who runs the clinic — she tried, but she's not an AI specialist, so I figured... [ He turns the chip over in his hand. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
industries) wrote2019-05-15 09:19 pm
dec. 29 | solar flexus gym
[Cap isn't on the premises today, which means that Tony's dream scenario of Rogers getting told off by a robot are all but dashed, but it's probably just as well -- they may be on better terms these days, but his recent run-in with Barnes at the villa was just the most extreme of a few reminders that he still shouldn't let Rogers in on all of his business.
And this business happens to be... a human trapped in a robot body? Is that the narrative he's going with? Sure, he'll stick with that for now, especially since he's pretty sure that's the take Simon Jarret's going to be bringing into the shop. Tony spends the hour or so between their text conversation and roughly-appointed meeting mulling it over, as he sets up his corner of the lab with the hardware and software he'll be using to run diagnostics on whatever "tech-related" issue Simon happens to be experiencing. That includes facing his monitors away from the spot where he'll be sitting -- robot-existential-crisis stage fright and all that.
It doesn't take long between a walking diving rig shuffling into the gym and one of the part-time trainers hollering into the back room that Tony has an "uh... visitor?" Tony himself ambles up to the door of his and Bruce's lab, and makes a wide-armed gesture to the interior of the converted back-office area to welcome Simon in.]
As promised, the "place where I do stuff like this." [He shoos the trainer away and shuts the door behind Simon as he makes his way toward his daily workspace. The area is fairly large -- about the size of a high school classroom, with an extra closet tacked on to the rear to boot. Most of it is taken up by an assortment of long tables and desks, which look like they were either picked up from a curbside rescue or inherited from the previous owners of the gym, but that's where the appearance of shabbiness ends. Otherwise, the collections of wires, monitors, beakers, microscopes, and other technological-slash-biological gizmos seem fairly organized and well-kept, even if a massive, sheet-covered figure seems to be taking up about a quarter of the room at the back.
Tony rests a hand on a desk and turns toward his guest.]
So. What kind of "stuff" we talking about?
no subject
He enters with the Omnitool in his hand, held level with his thigh. He's free of deer ears or the massive metal Yggdrasils that make it difficult to accomplish things like getting through doors and not scaring the shit out of people.
As Tony closes the door behind him, he takes stock of the place. When he's welcoming him in, Simon is already wandering down the length of the lab, slow and with a cautious, fractional bend to the waist, but still not as tentative as someone so unqualified to be in here could probably stand to be. He doesn't touch anything, but he doesn't exactly shy away from it, either.
Of course it reminds him of PATHOS-II, not that many of the rooms still looked like this by the time he got there — or ever had. It's sleeker, closer to what Simon would've envisioned The Future looking like. He could see glimpses of something like it in Catherine's lab, in the scribblings and whiteboards and eager orange paint of Theta. Places where great things were being done, and everyone involved knew it was Important.
He does a half-turn toward Tony while he moves toward the massive covered thing, not even aware he's ensuring that the door isn't behind him. ] What's that thing?
[ He half-expects to hear the grinding actuators of a zombified UH coming to painful life under the sheet. It's partly curiosity that makes him ask that instead of answering the question. Part, maybe, some deep-down reluctance to leave the comforting ambiguity of Schrodinger's Catherine behind and start this process that's already ended in failure before. ]
so sorry for the wait aaaahh!! real life.... rip
[He swipes a hand over the console next to him and a hologram fritzes to life beside him, about the size of a flatscreen monitor, except with a little more depth of field. He swipes past a couple icons of folders and windowed menus until he finally taps a user icon and brings up a 3D model. Rough-around the edges, like it was sketched in z-space rather than scanned from a real-life model, but definitely not dissimilar to Simon's unique silhouette.]
Like. I could think about a million ways we could shore up your situation, starting with a quality of life increase from that particular-- [he gestures vaguely at the suit,] -- casing, but first you gotta give me an idea where to start.
[Tony would be lying if he said he wasn't keen on cracking the dive suit open ASAP to see the wiring inside, but he's also got a feeling from the cautious way Simon steps through the lab that he might not be the first one who's had that thought -- and definitely not the meanest.]
no worries!! id wait forever for you booboo
But it's good news, right? He could build Catherine another body... what kind she'd want, Simon has no idea, but. ]
Thanks, but it's not for me. [ He pulls the cortex chip out of the Omnitool, small and clunky, with its reaching tendrils of the same chitinous hardened glop that forms the bulk of Simon's antlers, when they exist. He holds it up. There's an entire person inside something this tiny. ]
I need to get the data off of this. Angela — the blonde woman who runs the clinic — she tried, but she's not an AI specialist, so I figured... [ He turns the chip over in his hand. ]
I just need to know if she's still in here.