"Sounds familiar," Mark muses, nodding. He looks around, noting that it looks, pretty much, like a futuristic version of the administrative building at UCSC, which he saw when he went on his campus tour a few weeks ago. Hopefully, there won't be any cyborgs attacking during the tour.
Mark nods. He looks around, taking in the architecture and the long line of pictures (GIFs?) of what appear to be headmasters or other distinguished, somber educators looking down at the student body with expressions of disapproval. (Either that, or that fellow with the chrome handlebar moustache had a bad case of gas when they took the picture).
"Is the PE stuff just like sports, or do you guys learn the tools of the trade over there?" He indicates the crossbow-like armament in his escort's hands with a glance. "Or is that part of the field training you're doing with Whatshisname?"
Their escort (a pale blue girl with copper hair and big goggles) speaks up. "It's mostly combat t-training. There's also the g-general stuff, though. Climbing, running, swimming, weights. Sports are mostly in G-Game training."
Mark starts a little when the girl speaks, but nods. "Plenty of places to blow off steam, too, it sounds like. Or do you guys prefer to be away from the Admins when you have fun?"
He turns and addresses the girl directly. "Hi. I'm Mark. The dangerous Webcreature." He raises his hands and claws the air. "Rar."
"Well, that's good," replies Mark. "It'd suck if this was run like some weird digital boarding school."
"It's nice to meet both of you," says Mark sincerely. "So, now that we're all on speaking terms, can someone tell me what it is about Webcreatures that got the talking head with the Santa Claus beard so worked up?"
It is a weird digital boarding school. It's not a prison, though.
"Some Webcreatures are invasive," Alvey explains. "They're not really adapted to life in the Net, b-but it's still a safer environment than the Web. At least, we think that's why. Anyway, if one turns up in a system at all, it's usually the bad k-kind."
"And some of them can create portals," Gil adds. "So if they're not contained, they can spread from system to system."
Enzo says nothing, but looks grim. It's not a favourite topic.
They may be unpowered, but they're very well trained.
"Thanks." "Thanks."
They enter the infirmary, where the Admin has arrived ahead of them; he raises an eyebrow at the chummy atmosphere. Seen in full, he has a build reminiscent of a bear preparing for hibernation.
"Mark... Administrator Rijndael." (It's pronounced more or less like Randall.)
The infirmary gets a onceover; Mark is mildly curious, now that he's here, on how it might look different from the school nurse's office. The introduction brings his attention around to the serious, if rotund, adult.
Well, at least the rest of him also looks like Santa Claus.... sorta, thinks Mark. His blank visage makes it hard to read, but he sounds properly respectful when he says, "Good afternoon, Administrator. My apologies for the ruckus. It wasn't intentional."
(The narrative will leave it to the reader whether or not Mark would have apologized for intentional ruckus.)
On the one hand, the infirmary has rather more scanners and monitors than Mark is likely used to. On the other hand, it also has corny posters and something that appears to be the digital equivalent of a rack of pamphlets.
Rijndael (who does look a bit like Santa Claus if Santa wore military uniform, could bench his own weight, and were inclined to consider you Naughty until proven Nice) gives Mark a piercing look for a moment and then nods. "Well, if you are a Webcreature, you're more polite than most. S'pose I should apologize for the reception. Seeing as how Cadet Matrix is involved"—he gives Enzo a this-is-doing-my-ulcer-no-good look—"I'm prepared to believe you, but I won't be executing my function if I don't confirm it."
"I understand,sir," says Mark, nodding. "You have to be true to your function."
Mark didn't really get that, prior to the digitization. But now, he can feel his own function - Hero - as part of his being, with a clarity and surety that he hadn't experienced before. What he thought of as simply following in his father's footsteps and a logical use of his superpowers now feels like a defining element of what makes Mark who he is, what makes him Invincible.
For a nineteen-year-old on the cusp of his adult life, it's a refreshingly unmuddied viewpoint.
"Certainly," says Mark, seating himself on the table. He looks around, then adds, in a lower tone, "This isn't going to be comprehensive exam, is it? Because I think I might need a curtain." He looks around the infirmary at the collection of staff and bystanders (doubtless there are a few students loitering near the entrance).
"Probably not," says the doctor blithely. "Just hold still..."
He straps something like a sphygmomanometer onto Mark's upper arm, sticks an apparent thermometer in his mouth, and waves a device over him from all sides. It looks a bit like a metal detector wand such as airport security might have, except it glows brightly.
Lines of code start scrolling up a nearby screen. Both the doctor and the Admin scrutinize it.
"Wmph nmph?" asks Mark. He pulls the - well, let's just call it a 'thermometer' for simplicity's sake - the thermometer out of his mouth, and repeats, "What's new?"
"Huh," responds Mark. "Can't understand why. Viltrumites are, according to my father, an extremely advanced and benevolent society, dedicated to protecting and assisting other races."
He pauses, then adds, "I have to say, this format or function thing is a little strange. I mean, I know I'm a hero; I help people everyday. But this... reinforcement.... It's very... present."
Enzo shrugs. "Like I said, things don't always come out like you'd expect. Maybe it's just 'cause of your power levels."
"I've never seen these subroutines integrated like this," murmurs the doctor. "If I could do a more comprehensive scan..."
"Not on the first date," interjects Rijndael; Alvey giggles. "Well, lad, I'll admit it, you must be what you say. No one can fake a hero format but a Trojan horse, and if you are a Trojan horse, you're the worst one I ever heard of. No offence."
"None taken. I think," responds Mark. He's fairly sure that a "Trojan" is a virus of some sort, but he leaves the computer stuff to Robot. The Grayson Family has a computer, but it's mostly used for word processing and household finances, even in 2004.
"I guess if there's nothing else here," he says to Enzo, "then we should get going."
Enzo looks at the Admin, who nods and waves a hand. Enzo salutes. "Alvey, could you go on ahead and explain things to the band?"
Alvey nods and clicks her heels together. Transparent, glowing purple wheels spring out of her boot soles, lifting her up a couple of inches, and she skates off at speed.
"Nice to have met you, Administrator," says Mark, with as much sincerity as any teenager can muster when faced with an authority figure (which is actually quite a lot, though there's always the nagging suspicion that the adolescent in question is snarking behind the adult's back). "Again, sorry about all the commotion."
"Cute," Mark says to Enzo, as Alvey activates her rollergirl protocol. "Does she derby?"
no subject
Date: 2012-11-23 05:45 pm (UTC)"Everything else is linked to here?"
no subject
Date: 2012-11-23 07:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-24 03:38 pm (UTC)"Is the PE stuff just like sports, or do you guys learn the tools of the trade over there?" He indicates the crossbow-like armament in his escort's hands with a glance. "Or is that part of the field training you're doing with Whatshisname?"
no subject
Date: 2012-11-24 04:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-25 08:31 pm (UTC)He turns and addresses the girl directly. "Hi. I'm Mark. The dangerous Webcreature." He raises his hands and claws the air. "Rar."
no subject
Date: 2012-11-25 11:53 pm (UTC)The girl smiles at him, to make it quite clear that this was not her idea. "I'm Alvey."
"She's cool," Enzo informs Mark. "She's one of my roommates' girlfriend, actually."
"I'm Gil," supplies their forward escort. He's a couple
yearsdays older than Enzo, with teal skin and a more conventional (if sci-fi-ish) sidearm.no subject
Date: 2012-11-26 04:10 am (UTC)"It's nice to meet both of you," says Mark sincerely. "So, now that we're all on speaking terms, can someone tell me what it is about Webcreatures that got the talking head with the Santa Claus beard so worked up?"
no subject
Date: 2012-11-26 05:04 am (UTC)"Some Webcreatures are invasive," Alvey explains. "They're not really adapted to life in the Net, b-but it's still a safer environment than the Web. At least, we think that's why. Anyway, if one turns up in a system at all, it's usually the bad k-kind."
"And some of them can create portals," Gil adds. "So if they're not contained, they can spread from system to system."
Enzo says nothing, but looks grim. It's not a favourite topic.
no subject
Date: 2012-11-27 10:45 pm (UTC)"Good reactions," he says after a moment. "I don't think I'd have moved that fast."
(Well, truth be told, he'd have reacted slower, but moved a LOT faster.)
no subject
Date: 2012-11-27 11:41 pm (UTC)"Thanks." "Thanks."
They enter the infirmary, where the Admin has arrived ahead of them; he raises an eyebrow at the chummy atmosphere. Seen in full, he has a build reminiscent of a bear preparing for hibernation.
"Mark... Administrator Rijndael." (It's pronounced more or less like Randall.)
no subject
Date: 2012-11-28 10:48 pm (UTC)Well, at least the rest of him also looks like Santa Claus.... sorta, thinks Mark. His blank visage makes it hard to read, but he sounds properly respectful when he says, "Good afternoon, Administrator. My apologies for the ruckus. It wasn't intentional."
(The narrative will leave it to the reader whether or not Mark would have apologized for intentional ruckus.)
no subject
Date: 2012-11-28 11:14 pm (UTC)Rijndael (who does look a bit like Santa Claus if Santa wore military uniform, could bench his own weight, and were inclined to consider you Naughty until proven Nice) gives Mark a piercing look for a moment and then nods. "Well, if you are a Webcreature, you're more polite than most. S'pose I should apologize for the reception. Seeing as how Cadet Matrix is involved"—he gives Enzo a this-is-doing-my-ulcer-no-good look—"I'm prepared to believe you, but I won't be executing my function if I don't confirm it."
no subject
Date: 2012-12-03 02:26 am (UTC)Mark didn't really get that, prior to the digitization. But now, he can feel his own function - Hero - as part of his being, with a clarity and surety that he hadn't experienced before. What he thought of as simply following in his father's footsteps and a logical use of his superpowers now feels like a defining element of what makes Mark who he is, what makes him Invincible.
For a nineteen-year-old on the cusp of his adult life, it's a refreshingly unmuddied viewpoint.
He looks around the infirmary. "What's first?"
no subject
Date: 2012-12-03 02:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-03 02:55 am (UTC)"And maybe a gown."
no subject
Date: 2012-12-03 03:13 am (UTC)He straps something like a sphygmomanometer onto Mark's upper arm, sticks an apparent thermometer in his mouth, and waves a device over him from all sides. It looks a bit like a metal detector wand such as airport security might have, except it glows brightly.
Lines of code start scrolling up a nearby screen. Both the doctor and the Admin scrutinize it.
"Well. That's new."
no subject
Date: 2012-12-03 03:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-03 03:30 am (UTC)"Your code is definitely consistent with some types of Webcreature..."
"Among the more dangerous and malignant ones, too," puts in Rijndael.
"...up to a point. But... well, you are a hero format. The scanner doesn't lie."
no subject
Date: 2012-12-05 03:53 am (UTC)He pauses, then adds, "I have to say, this format or function thing is a little strange. I mean, I know I'm a hero; I help people everyday. But this... reinforcement.... It's very... present."
no subject
Date: 2012-12-05 04:14 am (UTC)"I've never seen these subroutines integrated like this," murmurs the doctor. "If I could do a more comprehensive scan..."
"Not on the first date," interjects Rijndael; Alvey giggles. "Well, lad, I'll admit it, you must be what you say. No one can fake a hero format but a Trojan horse, and if you are a Trojan horse, you're the worst one I ever heard of. No offence."
no subject
Date: 2012-12-05 04:27 am (UTC)"I guess if there's nothing else here," he says to Enzo, "then we should get going."
no subject
Date: 2012-12-05 04:30 am (UTC)Alvey nods and clicks her heels together. Transparent, glowing purple wheels spring out of her boot soles, lifting her up a couple of inches, and she skates off at speed.
no subject
Date: 2012-12-06 02:13 am (UTC)"Cute," Mark says to Enzo, as Alvey activates her rollergirl protocol. "Does she derby?"
no subject
Date: 2012-12-06 03:51 am (UTC)Enzo nods as he leads Mark out. "That's her combat specialty. That and archery. She's got rocket boosters, too."
no subject
Date: 2012-12-06 04:50 am (UTC)"Anyway, I guess I'm not a dangerous Webcreature after all," he continues. "So, where to from here?"
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