The download of navigational data into Icarus seemed to go uneventfully, though the construct hasn't yet seem able to /do/ much with it. Or more specifically, he is unable to completely access it yet, it's like it is being reordered and reformatted in some fashion to 'fit' in his unusual and altered memory 'systems'. So, in order to give things time to settle, infiltration plans are put into action. Or rather, phase one of them, which is collecting up some gear that Envoy has been thinking about, such as infra-red/ultraviolet goggles.
The best place for such things is at Born-In-War's offices. If he doesn't have them, the equipment is available there for them to be built by say the Amazing Walter Thorndike III. Granted they might weigh fifty pounds, but he could surely build them. The trick, though, is getting Born-In-War to agree to let them make a mess in his usually pristine workshops.
"You wish to do what, again?" the erstwhile Silent-One signs, his expression impassive and solemn as always as he looks down at Envoy. Walter and Icarus are standing behind her, trying to look innocent. Morpheus is ... just standing there looking dark and ... well as intimidating as the body can manage, which isn't much "The last time I allowed you access to the systems here, the whole building started to speak," Born-In-War adds. That, of course, was when Icarus had interfaced to the entire building's crystalline network.
"Buildings are supposed to speak," Envoy claims. "You just haven't realized it yet. And how much trouble can a few optical filters cause, anyway?" She tries to use her most winning smile as well, without looking too cute.
"I am more concerned with how much trouble you cause," the Silent-One signs. "We are still repairing the side of the building from the last attack of your ... friend."
"I see," Envoy notes, and figures charm won't work. "Having the multi-spectrum goggles is important for Icarus's and my safety though. Unless.. maybe.. you already have something we could use?" she asks.
"I think you would be safer if you stopped poking the bugs nest," Born-In-War suggests. His expression remains completely emotionless. Well, save for the occasional ear-twitch. Could the Silent-One actually be messing with her?
"The bug has been the one poking us," Envoy counters. "And he will keep poking us until he is stopped. Please remember that Dr. Von Bronson is insane. Most likely."
"And what is the state of your sanity?" Born-In-War asks.
"Motherly?" Envoy suggests.
"Ahhh, so utterly insane, then," Born-In-War signs. "When my wife bore her children she was impossible to reason with. I still have bite scars. Now, I don't think you can bite as hard, and your teeth aren't sharp. Still, the last I need is a fretting mother. You may use the workshops."
The Aeolun bows her head. "Thank you, Born-In-War," she says. "I'm sure Icarus will find it educational."
"I would prefer if he were being educated to be a proper Silent-One," Born-In-War signs, "But I suppose no one is perfect. He still speaks after all, which is rather undignified." He then actually pats Envoy's cheek. For as stoic and tall as he seems, the pat on her check reminds her how thinly built the Silent-Ones really are. Also, that they tend to have dry senses of humor; he cannot possibly be as serious as his posture implies.
"Once there is time, I'll make sure his fluency in Sign is achieved," Envoy promises, and smiles a bit at the cheek-pat.
"I still think it could be accelerated were we to paralyze his vocal chords," Born-In-War signs. This actually makes Icarus chirp behind Envoy, then clap his hands over his mouth.
"I assure you I can teach him without needing such measures," Envoy claims, still grinning.
"I have no doubt, but it would be educational for him," Born-In-War signs. He also taps his chin, then adds, "And we really must address your appearance sometime as well."
Envoy blinks at that. "What is wrong with my appearance?" she asks, assuming the answer will involve spots.
"You lack spots and tear-marks," Born-In-War signs on cue, "And if you intend to be family, you could at least look the part."
"I can try," Envoy offers. She's used fur dyes and other tricks to help disguise herself in the past, after all - how hard could a few spots be?
"Ah, good. Then I will arrange for my daughters to perform a makeover on you later," Born-In-War signs. This causes Morpheus to snicker. "I don't think I would want spots. A spotted planet would be odd," he whispers in Envoy's ear.
Swatting Morpheus with her tail, Envoy nods to Born-In-War's suggestion. "If that is all, I suppose we should go to the workshop," she notes.
"If something blows up, I expect you to pay for it," Born-In-War signs while Morpheus catches her tail. "Just imagine," Morpheus whispers, "Playing connect the dots sometime. Though admittedly I cannot recall if I have ever done such. Or for that matter, painted by numbers. I have seen many dreams involving both, though."
Envoy is a bit distracted by the notion of painting by numbers. Surely, you'd need a brush still.. "I will endeavor to avoid explosions," she tells the Silent-One, thankful that he didn't include other forms of breakage in the statement.
Born-In-War gestures for them to follow. "I say, I do not know if I will ever get used to walking big walking cats," Walter comments quietly. "The nobles usually hunted them as big game from where I come from."
"Wait until you meet the lion and tiger Khattas of Sinai," Envoy tells Walter. "Some of them probably go big-game hunting too."
"Each other?" Walter asks, looking horrified.
"No, big game," Envoy explains. "There are many giant creatures. Some are used to construct ships in the desert. And the really big ones can shoot back."
"Well, at least that is more sporting than tying up a goat under a tree," Walter concedes. The menagerie walk through the spartan Silent-One complex and in short order they are at one of the research laboratories.
"I know a Chaos Mage that would probably suffocate in a such a clean setting," Envoy comments. "Can you make use of any of this, Walter?"
"Unless there is something else you need, I will leave you to ... whatever it is you wish to do," Born-In-War signs. "I have paperwork to tend to. There is a dispute between the humans and the twilight winged ones we were asked to mediate. Dealing with the pride of both is ... tiring."
"It isn't a proper laboratory," Walter laments, "Where are the sparky things? Where are the great tubes of bubbly liquids? Where are the nose-burning smells?"
"Not everyone can be as humble and impartial as the Silent-Ones," Envoy notes to Born-In-War. "I wish you the best, and thank you again for your help."
"Humble? Born-In-War signs curiously. This concept even makes his ears wiggle. "Just ... be careful," he requests, then departs.
"I like him," Icarus admits. "Hard to believe we're related, though."
"There are some food courts in the Rephidim Bazaar you would feel right at home at, Walter," Envoy notes, then swats Morpheus on the rear. "That's for trying to make me laugh in Born-In-War's office," she claims with a grin.
"You can't choose your relations, Icarus," Envoy tells the boy, then tries to make some sense of the equipment. Technology has always been Envoy's weak point.
"Laugh? I would do no such thing," Morpheus claims as he rubs his backside. "I am far too dignified for such behavior."
The tables are full of bits, bobs, pointy things, and whoozajigs. In other words, Envoy doesn't really know what much of it is. Most of it looks dangerous, though. "So ... about these aetheric glasses you were talking about," Walter comments as he adjusts his top-hat, "You want to be able to see the unseen in multiple types of unseen light?"
"So far that you've gone all the way around to the other side of dignified, I'd say," Envoy jokes. "Walter, we need something that will let us see through the inertial fields better. When we're sped up, the higher frequencies of light will be what we're seeing outside the field, and those might be too dim. It would be more ideal to have a way of keeping the normal visible spectrum available to us. So.. if you could make something that sees infrared then it might let us see colors in the field."
"Oh! You want to slow light down so that the effect of breaking the speed of light in specific mediums do not corrupt what you see?" Walter asks as he adjusts his hat again. "Use the lower long frequencies?"
"Says the one who agreed to be spotted," Morpheus comments.
"What's wrong with spots?" Icarus asks.
Envoy nods. "That way we don't have to shine x-ray flashlights around in order see while sped up," she agrees. "And.. spots are fine. Spots and stripes together would be nice as well. You can get the stripes, Morpheus. Silver ones."
"Why?" Morpheus has to ask.
"So you don't feel left out, of course," Envoy replies. "Maybe some stars and swirls too. Dreams are starry and swirly."
"Walter removes his hat, then his coat. Those he hangs up on a wall hook. The human then unbuttons his sleeves and rolls them up. "Do you want to be able to switch between views?" the human asks as he starts poking at a device to two. "Aha, good, they have a glass cutter and polisher," he remarks absently.
"Well.. we need to see normally when we aren't using the inertial fields, so yes," Envoy tells Walter. "I.. haven't figured out a way for us to communicate yet. I think talking will work.. to anyone else it'd just be chirps or buzzes."
"Or you could use sign," Morpheus points out.
"Right, so multi-lens goggles it is," Walter declares. He grabs a pair of calipers, walks over to Envoy, and starts measuring her face. "Does this horn have to stay?" he asks, "It will get in the way."
"If the goggles work, we should be able to see one another," Envoy agrees, and looks to Icarus. "How is your data digestion going so far, Icarus?"
"Can't you work around the horn," Envoy replies to Walter. "It's part of my brain.."
"Well, I can yes. It's just that sawing it off would be easier," Walter admits.
"Please work around it, Walter," Envoy says. "I wouldn't suggest removing your external reproductive organs to make your pants fit better, after all."
Icarus' eyes seem to unfocus a bit. "Well, it's ... going. Seventy-five percent, maybe?" he comments, sounding distracted. "I can actually access some if it now."
"Yes, you would," Morpheus points out.
"If you really want some, you'll need to find a model for me to work from, Morpheus," Envoy teases.
"Such commentary is not proper for a lady, Miss Envoy," Walter says in a huff. "Fine, I will work around that unsightly growth." He resumes measuring Envoy's head.
"What would I do with such, though?" Morpheus asks honestly.
"Unsightly.." Envoy mutters. "I don't know, Morpheus. We'll worry about it later, anyway. Once Icarus is ready, I want him to try and create inertial stasis around a target."
"Can I try to straighten it?" Walter asks.
"You want him to freeze people?" Morpheus asks.
Envoy spares Walter a glance that says 'no', then replies to Morpheus, "Yes, that is the goal. An enemy in stasis can't be hurt.. but will be effectively frozen in time. You just have to be careful about structural elements being caught as well."
"You are such a woman," Walter mutters. He finishes taking notes and heads back to one of the tables.
"Mm, kinder than what the Eeee did to me," Morpheus admits.
"A stasis field can be terribly destructive too, since it creates changeline surface that effectively cuts through anything," Envoy notes. "Make it too big, and you take a bite out of the ceiling and floor."
"Our 'regular' intertial fields will cause structural stress too, but not as bad, since most building materials are inert and don't care if one part is aging faster than the other," she adds.
"Why go to this much trouble, though? If you could create such, just make Von Bronson's lab collapse around him," Morpheus suggests.
"Or I could try to access his dreams," the planet-thing suggests. "Though, I am not sure I want to see what he dreams about."
"I'd like to see how he's growing his crystal from the node he has," Envoy says. "For that matter, does he even sleep at this point? Could you find him?"
"Probably," Morpheus says.
"If he doesn't sleep, that would explain his psychosis," Walter remarks from where he's working. "Stupid horn," he mutters a bit later and he struggles with re-working a bit of leather to fit around Envoy's head-horn.
"Well.. please do then?" Envoy asks Morpheus. "I can't imagine they'd be pleasant dreams. But cutting out sleep is the sort of thing I can see him doing, if he's delegated his endocrine functions to a life-support system."
Morpheus drapes his arms around Envoy's shoulders from behind. "Anything for you," he murmurs in her ear. "Otherwise you might turn me into something weird." His arms slip away and he walks off to a nearby chair. He settles, then closes his eyes.
Left to think for a moment, Envoy realizes something. "Walter, can you make something that converts carbon-dioxide back into breathable oxygen?" she asks. "Or else a way to compactly store oxygen for breathing?"
"A carbon collector? That's easy. It's just a catalyzer system," Walter says and waves his hand in the air a bit. "That's like ... things children do in early lab."
"Oh good, what do you need for a catalyst?" Envoy asks.
"Hey, can you shape glass any?" Walter inquires without looking up. "As for what I need, I need some ruthenium."
"I can shape glass," Envoy claims. "I'll have to ask Born-In-War for ruthenium then. Sped up, Icarus and I will go through a lot of oxygen. And our body heat will probably be visible outside of our fields."
"Good. That will be faster. I have some crystals growing, but it will take a while to shape them by hand. If you can shape them to lenses based on measurements I provide, then that will help speed things along," Walter claims. "I'll go work on the rebreather setups while the crystals grow. Might look a bit like muzzles on you two, though," he admits.
"So, they'd look normal on us?" Envoy says, as she goes to the crystallization station and looks over Walter's measurements.
Walter hands over several pages of notes. They're quite specific on curvature and shape for each type of crystal. It looks like when they're switched together in sets they should filter or allow very specific wavelengths of light through, which then strike a thin film that will glow, reproducing an image based on what hits it. The hard part is, they're all thin as well as requiring very specific dimensions. It won't be easy to do. "No, I mean they might look like muzzles you put on rabid and wild animals," Walter clarifies.
"Hmmm, demonic animals. You might snort out dark clouds," he admits.
"So.. normal as other people would expect for us.." Envoy corrects herself, and starts to map out the necessary shaping spell. At least working from the start will help.. easier to make the crystal grow into the shape you want than to force it afterwards.
Not worrying so much about aesthetics, Envoy begins the multi-layered spell, settling down to guide the growth process for the duration, and hoping nobody comes to complain about the singing. She's always liked crystal sculpting - to her it's just another biological process, after all.
Walter whistles to himself as he works. He's rather dextrous with his hands, really. Instead of looking like a prim and proper sort of gentleman at the moment, he looks more like an ordinary sort laboring over some task. Morpheus still has his eyes closed, and Icarus is entertaining himself by float-juggling several empty beakers. It makes the bones in his hands glow; shining through the skin and thin spotted pelt.
I'll have to make sure my markings are done to match Icarus, Envoy thinks when she reaches a point that doesn't require all of her concentration. The crystal should grow as required now, she just has to maintain the spell until it has finished.
It's odd to think how old Icarus actually is. Granted he spent much of that in a hastily built virtual world, but he's still really not a child chronologically. "So ... I think Violette kind of likes me," he comments as a beaker floats above his right hand when he notices Envoy looking at him. "But ... when she learns what I really am she will probably think I'm a freak."
"You may not age like others," Envoy notes during a break in her song. "We don't know the effects of being in the.. womb.. so long will have on certain processes. And I doubt Violette is one to think of others as freaks, having been on that end of things herself after her accident. You don't think of her as a freak, do you?"
"Of course not. Sure, she's weird, but ... she's nice. She makes me laugh a lot. I just ... I don't know. She has moments when she gets twitchy and shakes, but she denies it if I ask her what is wrong," Icarus says. "Always says she is fine."
After another chorus, Envoy says, "She needs to tell herself that she's fine. It's something you need to believe in. You're fine too, Icarus. She will never look at you as a freak for the same reasons you don't look at her as one."
"Will others, though?" Icarus asks. "I mean, I don't look much like anything else. Well, somewhat like the Silent-Ones, yes, but ... I'm obviously not."
"There is an entire race of people on Sinai where no two look alike, and all appear as mixed pieces of other species," Envoy explains. "They still get along with those that find them disturbing. On Abaddon, it's different, because the different peoples tend to stick to their own, in their own separate societies. But even here, you're a handsome young man. Nobody has chased me with torches and pitchforks yet, and I'm genuinely dangerous."
"You? Dangerous? Not really," Icarus says. "And oh, here, catch!" The hybrid tosses a beaker full of water at Envoy! It arcs through the air, the water spilling out of it in a wave that will most assuredly soak her! Well, except that it then suddenly stops, mid-arc and mid-splash. And there it remains, just suspended in space. There's the slight ripple of a bubble around it, like looking into an aquarium.
"You've finished your meal, I take it?" Envoy asks, looking closely at the suspended beaker. "A good stasis attempt. Just be sure not to try it on a table. You didn't even need me to show you how to do it this time." Envoy smiles proudly.
Icarus is grinning. "Watch this," he comments. His head tilts a little and the colors of his eyes seem to ripple and roll. The beaker begins to arc backwards and the water goes from flying out of it to going back into it. "Quantum state replay," he explains.
"You were recording it the whole time?" Envoy asks, impressed.
"Yes? Doesn't everyone?" Icarus asks, sounding confused.
"I can't do that," Envoy notes. "I can remember, but I can't sense that information in the first place."
"Really?" Icarus asks, surprised.
Envoy shakes her head. "That perception is beyond me right now," she admits. "I could probably achieve a simple quantum-lock stasis.. over a small volume.. but I couldn't tell what the quantum state of the virtual space was."
"I can see it if I want to. It's kind of like .... squinting," Icarus tries to explain.
"I couldn't think fast enough to do that," Envoy says with a chuckle. "Not even if I still had the Probe functions of my mind."
"Grr. I think you are right," Morpheus finally comments, "I do not think Von Bronson sleeps any more. I cannot find his echo anywhere. That is ... disturbing."
"Really?" Icarus asks Envoy again. He's looking a little uncomfortable.
"Really," Envoy assures Icarus. "I wasn't made to observe things in that level of detail. I can't even see energy fields. Morpheus probably can, back on his home turf. You probably see probabilities, don't you Morpheus?"
"With proper tuning and focus, yes," Morpheus agrees. "Normally though I do not and just let it be background noise."
Envoy refreshes the shaping spell for a moment, then tries to access her Sifran implants. "Synchronize," she thinks.
Envoy's arms and horn feel hot, then she hears the sterile voice say, "Synchronized".
After selecting a point in the air in front of her, Envoy begins to 'input' the formulas for an inertial field - one only an inch across, a small sphere. Then she tries to have the field twist into its quantum-locked phase: effectively turning it into a virtual particle with the mass and density of what it contains, but otherwise isolated from the rest of the universe as far as matter and energy go. Perfect stasis, reflecting everything away from the surface and freezing the quantum state within. It takes a lot of effort.
Envoy feels like her head is in a vise and if her arms are on fire! It is difficult; it hurts. But, she does manage it, she has created one perfect point of stillness in the air before her.
After taking a deep breath, Envoy examines the little mirrored marble drifting in the air. Using both hands, she slowly brings them together around it to capture it. Since it's frictionless it isn't the easiest thing to hold onto. "See.. that was hard.. and it's just a ball of air," she tells Icarus. "But.. until it decays, it's impervious to everything. This one should last a few minutes at least."
"And you want it for ...?" Icarus asks as he watches, curious.
After waiting for the headache to subside a bit, Envoy tells Icarus, "I made it to show you how it's done. These 'bobbles' can have a set decay time, which means you can use them to skip ahead that amount of time, and nothing can touch you until then."
Envoy opens her palms in a wafting motion to send the mirror-bubble drifting towards Icarus. "Think you can pop it early?" she asks.
"Unless someone just waits outside of it and shoots you in the head when you come out," Icarus comments. His brow then furrows and his iris ripple in a rainbow of colors. The bubble soon mimics the ripping of his eyes ... and the it starts coming apart. He's popping it by dismantling it molecule by molecule. What's impressive is there is no explosion from doing that.
"They'd have to know when you were going to pop," Envoy says. "It's a last-resort, avoid certain doom option."
"I don't really want to go back into a bottle," Icarus admits with a frown. His ears and quivering, too.
"You can use it to save someone else too," Envoy points out. "Someone critically wounded, for instance. Also, you can preserve ice-cream until you're ready to eat it without needing any refrigeration!"
"Yeah, I know. It's just ... do you know what it is like to be stuck for what feels like eternity in something? It's ... awful," Icarus admits quietly. "A nonexistence. I understand what it can be used for it's just..." He's shaking all over now.
"You don't feel anything in stasis though," Envoy tells Icarus. "Everything is stopped." She then thinks of her own experience with the Tribunal when she was supposed to be shut off so Morpheus could tinker with her.. but doesn't tell Icarus about it. The Sifras may have a way to reach into stasis after all.
Icarus shakes his head. He looks as if he's about to say something when ... "Right! There. Now you need to try this on," Walter declares. He darts around one table, skids a bit, then stabilizes himself by Grabbing Envoy's waist momentarily. "Pardon," he apologizes quickly, then pulls some sort of leather-tube-thing over Envoy's mouth and nose! It's ... snug, but seems to have a middle joint that should allow some jaw movement.
"Duz i' ha be so ti?" Envoy tries to ask through the thing.
"Hold, hold," Walter says as he starts making adjustments. Icarus is trying to not laugh. At least the distraction has interrupted his descent into bad memories.
After a bit, the movement in the mask becomes easier. "Right, so once we can make the catalyst packs for it, you should be able to breathe for a long time in an oxygen constrained space. Granted it won't work forever, but it will extend the time you'll be functional," Walter explains.
Envoy sings a few notes along the scale, to make sure the mask doesn't interfere with the tones. "Very good, Walter," she says. "The lenses should be ready soon."
"Oh good, I was about to ask. I can finish the work on those when they are done," Walter says as he wipes his hands off on a dirty rag. Likely tannin residue from creating the mask. Try not to think about how he was fondling Envoy's face before he wiped his hands. It's also about then that two spotted hands come down on each of Envoy's shoulders. "I have been," one hand signs over her right. "That you are to be spotted," another hand signs over her left. That's when the twin faces of Born-In-War's daughers appear around each of Envoy's shoulders. They smile in perfect unison. They take the whole 'twin' aspect to a creepy level.
"Oh, now?" Envoy asks, and feels around for a way to take the mask off. "Does you father happen to have any ruthenium about? Or else platinum or uranium? I should be able make it from either of those.."
The twins dance around Envoy and rub up against her. "Now is possible, yes," one signs. The other, "I am sure we have at least one of those in storage somewhere. If asked nicely he might allow you some of one of them." As for the mask, it has about half a dozen buckles in the back holding it on! It'll be a pain to get off.
Humans are far too enamored of buckles and belts, Envoy thinks to herself, and finally asks for someone to help get the mask off - and promises she won't bite.
"I think she should keep it on," Morpheus comments while Walter helps remove the mask.
"You need to stop watching the dreams of Gallisian nobles, I think," Envoy tells Morpheus.
"It's more common in Babel, actually," Morpheus notes.
"I wouldn't think Babelites would need to dream about it though," Envoy notes. "They'd just do it!" Once she's free of mask, she asks the twins, "Do you need Icarus to be a reference for the spots?"
"No. He shares the same pattern as all of us," one of the twins points out.
"Do you need me to go somewhere else, or can you do it here?" Envoy asks next.
"Well, the salon would be better," the other one signs this time.
"Lead on then," Envoy says. "Icarus needs to have his breathing mask fitted still.."
"I'll take care of it," Walter promises. The twins take Envoy by each and and smile widely. The sort of smile that spells either certain doom, or at least severe embarrassment. "You" ... "Will" ... "Love" ... "It" they sign alternating and yet amazingly fluidly. How do they do that? Maybe the rumors that some Silent-Ones are mildly telepathic might be true after all.
Well, at least a makeover should be relaxing, Envoy thinks. She could use some relaxation, even if it's just for a little while. And hopefully nothing will happen while she's away.. how much trouble can a bunch of men get into in a workshop, after all?