trans_9 | party in engineering woop woop [OPEN]

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party in engineering woop woop [OPEN]

Chell was generally not an indecisive person--after all, you couldn't afford to be when you spent the last god-knew-how-long fighting for your life against crazed computers hell bent on stamping you out of existence. She had to admit, though, that her recent waffling was a little ridiculous. Her own sheer stubbornness, though arguably the trait that had kept her alive through the aforementioned attempted murders had become something of a hindrance, especially aboard Stacy, where she might be called to battle at any moment. To put it lightly, she had endured what seemed to be an eternity of toting about an incredibly grating personality sphere because she was too gosh-darned pigheaded to admit that she needed to cart him to Engineering and grant him some form of independence.

And that's where the indecisiveness came in, because there was a very large part of her that was not ready to do such a thing. She knew from experience that granting her robot frenemy any sort of autonomy whatsoever usually ended badly, and there was still a bad taste in her mouth from Lirath's mech suit adventure, to say nothing of their time in Aperture. Chell wasn't entirely sure if she was prepared to be in a situation where she could not monitor him constantly--what if she wasn't there and he got himself plugged into something important?

On the other hand, she recognized the impracticality of keeping him on her person at all times, and knew that the trip down to Engineering would be inevitable. Her arms really, really hurt.

After weighing (ha ha) all her options and speaking to that slightly manic afro girl (who seemed to share similar problems in the "my best friend is an immobile, inanimate object" department), Chell decided it was high time she got Wheatley some limbs...or a jetpack...or something. A consultation with afro-girl and the Engineering department, at the very least, wouldn't hurt.

So there she was, marching down to Engineering and setting Wheatley down on a worktable with a resounding thunk that was obviously meant to draw the attention of anyone in the general vicinity.

Super polite.

[OOC: SO UH marked as open in case any other engineering types (or not-engineering types) want to get in on this and have a free-for-all with some very exciting Aperture technology. VERY. EXCITING.]

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And what luck!Slightly manic afro girl (who might be known to others as Lash), just happened to be there when the giant robot was popped down close to her.

"Hey! It's uh...you. And him." She remembered them from their adventures in the castle that including burning giant worms and the robot talking a lot.

"Lemme guess," she said moving closer, leaning on the edge of the worktable. "You want me to lower the master sound level on his speaking programs."

"...And I want to get--Hey, this doesn't look like a dessert bar..."

Wheatley why did you say that, you don't even eat.

"Oh, hello! Say, that's some pretty frightful hair you've got there, bit frizzy. Probably could use some nice conditioner." This was clearly off to a great start.

Lash just continued to stare at Chell, the smile never leaving her face.

"...tell you what. How 'bout I disable his speaking modulators completely?"

"Disable my what?" Probably best to just ignore him and start ~~talking~~ pantomiming about him behind his back

For a moment, she almost started nodding and nodding ceaselessly into forever. That would be amazing. It would be brilliant and beautiful and everything she ever wanted and better than Christmas. Better than cake and a disabled neurotoxin generator a thousand Companion Cubes.

No

A million Companion Cubes.

The thought, however, was fleeting. As tempting as it would be to rip out his speakers, leaving him bewildered and mute, that was not the reason why they were here. Despite the grudge she carried (the grudge that burned like the fires of a thousand hells), she wasn't completely heartless, so she shook her head no.

After pondering for a moment, Chell reached out a hand and mimed writing, asking for a paper and pencil. These guys were a bunch of engineers, surely they had writing implements.

"You might want a pencil and paper for that," Lash offered, staring at her like Chell expected her to be able to imagine what she was writing. She reached over to a pill of papers and took out the pen she kept from working at her desk with Leon.

"Not much ink left, mind you, so uh, don't waste it."

No wasted ink here. Chell knew exactly what she was going to draw, art skills be damned, and set about scribbling so that both robot and afro-lady could see.

She had done an awful lot of thinking about what she wanted (because ha ha like hell was she going to let Wheatley have any say in this), and though she was no engineer and knew squat about robotics, she'd been around enough machines to know what might work and what wouldn't. In thinking about limbs for her construct buddy, Chell thought back to her brief glimpse of the cooperative testing robot. It had looked like a modified turret--so why not figure out a similar chassis for a personality core?

Her ultimate goal in this beautiful, marvelous drawing was to communicate her two Very Important Rules for Operation: Give Wheatley Limbs.

1. She did not want to give him access to any weapons.

2. She did not want him to end up taller than her.

title or description

Chell was a Good Artist.

Edited 2011-09-13 04:35 (UTC)

"Okay so you want to give him these monster elbows and lady shoes." Wow this person had really weird designs. She studied up the drawing close gain, looking at what they had. But the fact she didn't want him to have any weapons kinda put Lash a bit off. Enough that she wouldn't hound the entire process by herself, at the very least.

"Lemme go post something out to the others."

Zouichi wandered in a little while after Lash made her post to the comms. He liked AIs and would totally like to help Wheatley with his... oh.

"Nice shoes," he said. But why were they high-heeled?

"Are you sure you don't want to give him at least one weapon? I mean, just in case. Maybe a self-destruct mechanism?"

She looked up from her drawing, decidedly puzzled. Were they making fun of her? Not Zouichi, certainly not him. He was nice.

They weren't lady shoes. Why would she want to give him lady shoes? Chell stood and stepped backwards, gesturing down to her own boots so they could see her frame of reference better.

How was one supposed to survive long falls if they didn't have long fall boots, after all? She was just trying to do him a courtesy.

Moving back to the worktable, she seemed to ponder the suggestion before finally returning to the paper and emphatically underlining "no weapons please" several times. Wheatley would probably argue (in fact, she expected him to start at any moment), and her adamant attitude regarding said no weapons policy would probably necessitate her elaboration on why she had a no weapons policy, but for now she would settle for UNDERLINES.

Edited 2011-09-13 16:37 (UTC)

Lash waved to Zouichi as he got in, continuing to circle both the robot and Cell like a weird technological predator looking at her prey.

"I've been wondering about your shoes actually," Lash said as she knelt down to look at them better when Chell indicated to them. "At first I thought it was because you couldn't move your legs, but you seemed fine during the tests. What's the deal?"

"Those are Aperture Science Long Fall Boots," Wheatley explained, "designed to let you survive... long falls. Also, I'm right here, don't I get a say in any of this? Because if so, I want a mashy spike plate!"

It was around then that Billy had finally hiked through the City and shot down the chute to reach this level. His shift wasn't due to start for another hour, but he never minded coming in early to help with a project.

When he entered, he waved at the gathered crowd and sought out the plan. There was a scrawled note---no weapons---and the intended recipient of the new body, expressing his own ideas. He didn't know why there was such a disagreement about weapons, but there were a few things he felt compelled to point out.

"Hey everyone," he greeted. "I just got Lash's message. I'm Billy, the co-head of this department, and it's good to meet you." For Chell and Wheatley's benefit. "Bipedal robotic designs should be fairly doable, don't worry."

Quite frankly, he didn't see how those boots could possibly protect a person from the damage caused by the mere application of the laws of physics, but he would shunt that question aside. Like everything else that violated his precious laws, it was likely either a rule of nature undiscovered on his world or that blasted concept known as magic. Either way, he'd try to solve it later.

"You know that if we build the arms to your specifications they'll be more than capable of operating a handheld weapon, right? I don't see too much of a difference."

Stephen took a bit longer than he might have liked to make it to the party. Why? Because he brought a bunch of junk metal with him, and a few handfuls of screws of various sizes.

And his toolbox, can't forget that.

Since he'd come in as Wheatley explained Long Fall Boots, he waved a hand. "If you want I can handle the boots, especially if I can look at a pair. They sound like something my uncle might've made at one point."

WOW this was turning into a big deal, and it made her slightly nervous--it wasn't what she expected at all. She expected Wheatley to be difficult but she didn't know how this would turn out now that more engineers had shown up. One thing was for sure, however, and it was that she needed to hold her ground.

Where Billy was wrong (and she fully planned on communicating this to him just as soon as she unfastened her boots) was that picking up a weapon and being able to use it was not the same thing as having a weapon literally built into you.

She handed her footwear over to Stephen and returned to the pen, scribbling out a few more words.

Danger to himself and others, followed by a few emphatic circles around her no weapons, because underlining didn't seem to be doing it for these guys.

Sure, writing such things in plain view of the construct ran the risk of triggering his highly unpleasant berserk button, but if Chell did one thing well, it was being inflexible.

Lash just looked at the paper, one eyebrow raised. Come on. Seriously no weapons?

"Geeze, you make it sound like he's going to need baby-locks at this point. You sure he won't just trip with the legs we gave him? You make it sound like he was built to be dumb." She just had no idea how true this was.

Edited 2011-09-14 02:15 (UTC)

There sure were a lot of people funneling in. But now that Zouichi thought about it, maybe it would be a good idea not to build any weapons into Wheatley. Not that talking a lot necessarily made you a danger to others, but...

"I don't think a mashy spike plate would be very feasible," he said, frowning a little. "I mean, you'd have to get pretty close to use it, anyway. So, just the arms and legs? I see you've made him a bit shorter than yourself, is this to scale?"

"Hang on, hang on here, I still think I should get some sort of say here," Wheatley tried to interject, even though nobody was probably listening to him. "So no spike plates, what about lasers? Maybe lemon lasers?"

"All right, got it," Billy took preliminary sketches from the drawing, imagining in his head how all the pieces could fit together. They could do this, somehow.

"May I ask what a lemon laser is?"

"Um..." How best to describe Mr. Johnson's insane ramblings... "It's a lemon... that fires lasers... and burns things?"

There was more than just a hint of glee in Stephen's expression as he accepted the boots from Chell--but he reined himself in quickly. This was business, after all.

Though as he slid his goggles down, you could be darn sure he was trying to get the schematics and so on.

He offered them back after a thorough visual examination, with some poking and prodding thrown in, trusting the scanners on his goggles to give him the information he needed.

"May I?" Stephen said, extending a hand for the pen and paper that Chell had been using to write with. Once it was passed over, he wrote:

Do you think he could override a weapons override if one was linked in to his arms and legs? he scribbled. On one hand he didn't want Wheatly to throw a fit here, but on the other...well, there was plenty of danger on Stacy without building more.

Sometimes Chell wondered if Wheatley was even for real. She fixed him with a look that equated to something along the lines of "stop embarrassing me and asking for potential instruments of murder or I'll tell everyone your formal designation I swear I'll do it".

Not that Wheatley had ever been particularly good at deciphering the subtle meanings of her various disdainful expressions.

She let out an exasperated sigh before nodding to Zouichi, glad that he at least was getting something out of her BEAUTIFUL DRAWING. Finally, to Lash, she gave a small, tight-lipped-but-affirmative bob of the head.

Then it was back to the paper. Possible. Brute-force hacks at human speed.

Congratulations, engineering, you were dealing with Artificial Stupidity.

Edited 2011-09-14 02:56 (UTC)

Jamie wandered in at some point in the middle of this, carrying a box of salvaged wiring and other bits and pieces that might come in handy, depending on what people needed to do.

He's mostly been keeping to one side, waiting for the planning part of things to be done so he could assist. But all the scribbled notes were bound to get his attention, and he watched the proceedings with keen interest.

The lass seemed pretty firm on no weapons, but the wee robot seems just as keen on having something, and he wondered if there were some way to compromise. Like giving him that plate thing, but with rubber spikes or something to it so it wouldn't actually hurt if it got used.

"Could I see that, please?" he asked, gesturing for the paper as well. Once it was passed over, he, too, wrote something down.

What if they were meant not to harm? Would that work, maybe?

HEY everyone was using her pen now. Oh well. She'd get another one from Leon or...just grab another from this room or something.

She took the pen from Jamie and wrote down something both for Chell and for him.

So you're telling me he was really built to be dumb? and then for Jamie: That kinda makes something called a weapon pretty useless if it does no damage. Then it's just a fancy ornament.

Writing out his formal designation (*~*Aperture Science Intelligence Dampening Sphere*~*)for everyone to read seemed a little cruel to Chell, especially considering how sensitive he was about it--Wheatley was just smart enough to have a massive (and sometimes dangerous) inferiority complex about being designed stupid.

And he wasn't stupid, not really, so it was a bit unfair to call him that. Wheatley could be surprisingly clever, only hampered by a programmed inability to see or plan for the consequences of his actions. Stupidity and bad decision-making skills were not necessarily mutually exclusive, after all. Finally, there was a part of her that had decided Wheatley's true directive wasn't anyone's business but theirs. It felt almost wrong to reveal that particular piece of personal information (if computers could have personal information) to a roomful of people they didn't know, engineers or not.

And for some reason she felt bothered that the group had switched entirely to scrawling each other notes behind the AI's figurative back. If she felt agitated by all this, the emotional, overly-nervous core was probably even more so, and Chell couldn't deny that she wanted to make this as painless as possible.

One last scribbled sentence. Or two. Or three.

Programmed to make poor decisions.

We do not have to keep writing notes but please be tactful and do not insult his intelligence.

I want a manual override.

There. COMPROMISE.

Edited 2011-09-14 22:28 (UTC)

"Oh come off it, talk to me!" Wheatley protested. "Well, luckily I can read your pen movements with exact precision! Let's see... The funny haired girl wants to jump on a manger and buy some ornaments... It's not the festive season, silly girl! But ooh! Ooh! Could I get it in silver and gold plating? That would be just amazing!"

Billy couldn't help but shake his head. All this chaos was not ending well, and someone had to make a decision sometime.

"Okay," Billy called out, waving his hand in the hopes of seeing surrender. "We'll do it. One weapon with a manual override...and I assume you'll be carrying the override, ma'am?"

With that determined, he pulls up his own pen and datapad and starts paging through weapons. "It'll have to be diverse, capable at short and long range---would a projectile do it, or would you rather have a blade? Some sort of disruptive wave attack? I suppose the laser is versatile enough, unless someone has an objection..."

Zouichi didn't know Wheatley liked Christmas. Although in some respects, he did look a little like a very large ornament. "How about a ray weapon set to stun? Would that be acceptable?"

"Maybe a laser or two would be all right. In many a lovely color?" By which Stephen meant more like a light show than actual damaging lasers, at least if one could read the twitch of his lips.

"Do you want me to just incorporate the boot design into the legs we'll be building?" Most of his attention was directed at the silent lady, but giving a chance for Wheatley to speak up couldn't hurt...

Much.

Chell wasn't entirely sure Wheatley even knew what Christmas was, exactly, but she brushed it off in favor of turning her attention back to the task at hand.

Yes, she would be carrying the override and would preferably be the only one to do so. By this point, however, she was angry at having to compromise and the expression on her face clearly said so, despite the fact that she nodded affirmatively in response to all the questions. Yes, yes it was fine, it was all fine.

Eyebrows pinched tight and lips drawn in a hard line, she looked down at Wheatley and rested a palm on his top handle, gesturing outward with her other hand to signal that he was free to tell the engineers what he wanted.

But if she heard "mashy spike plate" again, she was probably going to flip.

So naturally, the first words out of his mouth were, "...So a mashy spike plate is out of the question?"

Well, it was only an idea, and Jamie wasn't too put out when Billy decided to go with the suggestion of the override device. Some of the others seemed to be having similar thoughts to his on the matter, though, and he felt a little pleased he wasn't the only one thinking along those lines.

However, he still didn't quite understand what the big deal about the spiked plate was. He was about to open his mouth and ask when he got a good look at the lass's face and realized she seemed very unhappy about the situation. Maybe, he thought, it would be better if he kept that particular question to himself right now.

Turning towards the wee robot, he said, "Aye, well, I don't know as that would be such a good idea. Would ye maybe want to consider something else instead?"

Unfortunately, Jaime's levelheaded suggestion went ignored in favor of Chell's knee-jerk response to yet another mention of the robot's favorite murder weapon.

She pushed Wheatley off the table.

And then, like the well-adjusted adult she clearly was, stalked to the other side of the room and proceeded to watch the group with folded arms and the poker face to end all poker faces.

It was a great poker face.

Edited 2011-09-16 21:36 (UTC)

And Wheatley did a face-plant into the floor.

"So that's a no then," he said as he rolled to a stop. "Right then... I want something cool, something threatening, something that'll make those mantis men flee in terror!"

Hahaha oh wow, that lady had serious issues. Lash look who's talking.

"Cool and threatening but not spikes. Hmmm...well we've already got lasers as a suggestion," Lash loved lasers. "Oh I know! How about if two or three spikes came out of his hands when he'd need to use them? So not like a spiked plated but more like a close range weapon that could help in a pinch."

She took a piece of paper, wrote something down and waved it around to where Chell was standing.

And with a manual override, the blades would just fall off. If he does hack at human speeds, then he'll never be able to overcome my override as much as he tries. You could come bring him once in a while so I could change the password too!

Deep-seated issues that involved not only mashy spike plates but also spinny blade walls and rooms full of turrets and booby-trapped stalemate buttons, thanks very much.

Chell did find herself experiencing a twinge of schadenfreude when she saw that nobody was bothering to pick Wheatley up. SO HA. TAKE THAT.

She'd about had it, however, with all this talk of weapons and what kind of weapon and how that weapon was going to be disabled if they needed to disable it...Chell glanced briefly at the note and then waved Lash off, indicating that at this point, the engineers could do whatever the hell they wanted.

With a sigh, Jamie moved forward. He'd not be the best at working out the plans for whatever body they're going to build, but he could at least get the wee robot back to where he had been earlier.

If he knew any better, he might re-think that course of action - but for right now he reached down to pick Wheatley up off of the floor, intending on putting him back on the table while the others figured the more complicated part of things out.

Edited 2011-09-25 07:40 (UTC)

"Oh, thanks, what a sweet boy," Wheatley said. "You know, it's so great that you're so comfortable with yourself that you could wear a skirt like that out here. Bravo!"

Jamie's mouth pulls off to one side. As always, he's a wee bit touchy when it comes to his choice in outfits - and being called a sweet boy isn't really helping matters here.

"Look, I'll have ye know it's a kilt, not a skirt, and I'll thank ye to keep that in mind."

Edited 2011-10-01 08:00 (UTC)

Wheatley thought about this for a few moments.

Finally, he simply asked, "Are you Scottish? Because something tells me you're Scottish."

Chell, meanwhile, was mildly baffled that Wheatley even knew what Scotland was.

Was it the kilt or the accent that gave it away?

"Aye, of course I'm Scottish," replied Jamie, looking down at the sphere with a somewhat bemused expression. "Although I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"Ah, I just knew it. Tricky one to figure out."

Yes, he really was that dumb.

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party in engineering woop woop [OPEN]

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I am a very serious RPer

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I hope it's ok to jump in?

no zouichi smells

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