Logs:The only limit is your imagination.

The only limit is your imagination.
Dramatis Personae Kisha, Kitty
In Absentia	2020-08-26 Kitty test drives Kisha's latest project. A VR system based on her brain scanner technology.
Location Kisha's Stark Tower Lab - The Toybox
Kitty's eyes go wide for a minute as she watches the circlet appear. "Nice," she manages, a little bit of confusion in her tone. "Uh, sure." Kitty walks through the change room door and begins to switch outfits, t-shirt and jeggings switching out for a modest two piece swimsuit in light blue with a peter pan collar. She listens attentively, answers "I don't think so" to the question about spaces. "Not for a while, anyway." A frown, a furrowing of the brow. "I think," she says slowly, "that I'm probably good, as long as I'm not suffocating." Changed, she walks back to Kisha, curious. "Do I just climb in, then?" "You just need to put on this helmet and adjust it so it's comfortable and tuck a... there's a technical term for it but basically it's an inflatable neck pillow," Kisha replies, holding up the device she was tinkering with. It looks a little daunting with all the wires and tubes, not to mention a full face covering visorscreen, but the straps are thankfully normal enough seemingly taken from a cycle helmet or something similar. "Oh and if I can just fit you with a bio monitor? Won't hurt a bit and it'll shut everything down and pop the lid if anything looks even remotely off." She will, if Kitty's okay with it, strap the little waterproof device around whichever arm she prefers. "Now that's done yeah pretty much. Pull the visor down and float. It'll run through a boot in sequence where it calibrates your avatar then we'll start. And if at any point you want out just raise your arms, the lid will pop at the slightest bump." Once Kitty is ready the simulation fires up. A dim auditorium, the murmur of a crowd and a scratchy voice over a public address system "And introducing tonights main event it's Captain America and The Star Spangled Singers!" The crowd begin to cheer and the lights flash as the show begins. (It's a little like this! <https:''www.youtube.comwatch?v=DxRKwKJI_uI>) Kitty blanches, but takes the helmet and gingerly pulls it down over her head. Her left arm goes out for the monitor: "It's a bit like a heart rate monitor," she remarks, "but I assume more advanced." A glance at Kisha and a slight grin. "It's you, after all." With the neck pillow thingy firmly in place under her jaw, Kitty steps into the tub, raising one damp arm to flip her visor down. With a cheeky thumbs up to Kisha, she floats, first in darkness and then- She's seated in the auditorium, staring up at all the girls in their shimmering skirts and silver buckle shoes. Kitty looks down at her hands, her legs, and sees herself in the same red-white-and-blue outfit. "What the hell?" Looks up at the dancers, at a young (but not that much younger) Steve Rogers, and says, out loud, "World War fucking Two?" The public announcement system crackles into life and Kisha's voice comes out "It was out of license and I have to work to a budget... This is the only non-classified one I have ready. Still it's working just fine. Lets try with the user controls enabled." And nothing seems to change at first. Then there's a tap tap tapping of a cigarillo holder to the left and a little wisp of smoke. "Check out third from the left," Kitty hears in... her own voice. "I think she's making eyes at you." This Kitty seems dressed for a party. A black 1940s cocktail dress and matching hat. Coupled with red lipstick and a wicked grin. Her voice pipes up again to the left "Oh Captain my Captain." There's a dreamy sigh. This Kitty just so happens to be wearing a Privates uniform. It's hard to tell if the figures on either side were always dressed like that or if they shifted sometime the characters changed to her appearance. Kitty sighs, slumping back in the wooden back chair. "Long as we stay stateside," she concedes to Kisha's disembodied voice. "Wait, user controls?" Kitty turns her head to either side, looking down the row at a Kitty Pryde that looked like a young widow and a Kitty that looked like an Army brat. Her eyes spin out to the third from the left - colorful short hair and a wink. "Sarah," Kitty says, jaw hanging open." The Sarah on stage winks, and - were all the dancers with short hair (red and pastels) or long blunt cut blondes? And Steve, too. Kitty shifts uncomfortably. "I thought this would be more Danger Room. Less-" he gestures out, "whatever this is." The announcement system chimes again. There's an awkward cough. Then Kisha eventually says "This doesn't usually happen... Interesting... Erm. Let me take a look at the data." Meanwhile Private Kitty is twirling her hair around her finger and murmuring something patriotic but with a decidedly unpatriotic subtext. The Widow blows a little smoke ring in the shape of a heart "But then we don't have to pick just one do we darling?" A third, slightly more dismayed voice pipes up from the row behind. Kitty, this time in a lab coat adds "It's probably so over-calibrated it's picking up our subconscious... We might want to try those telepathic defense training lessons, to focus our mind, before anyone tries to get a... ahem... debriefing." Kitty coughs as the smoke flows over her. "Shut up," she says to the Widow, waving the cigarette smoke away. "You too," she mutters to Private Pryde, grimacing. "Do I really sound like that?" All too soon there is another damn version of herself. Kitty twists around, looking at herself (again). "At least you're dressed properly," she sighs. "Good idea. Thank you." She twists around, breathes in, breathes out, closes her eyes and builds a wall in her mind, one cinder-block at a time. As each mental brick settles in place the simulation seems to calm down a little. Private Pryde pouts and shuts up, eventually blending into the background and becoming just another soldier in the crowd. The widow gives a little femme fatale wink. "We'll see you in your ID Honey." From the back row Science Kitty chimes in "No you just worry you sound like that." Thankfully the one thing the VR system can't do well is scents. So aside from a background blend that's intended to recreate the venue there's no actual cloud of real smoke... HR wouldn't allow it on health grounds and Accounting thought it was a waste of money. Simulated Steve puts away the length of rope he was using to try sell War Bonds with. And the dancers.. well they don't revert to normal unless Kitty really wants them to. But they do get back to the actual song and dance routine. Now it's just Kitty, singular, and a parade of girls with pixie cuts and long blonde hair. She sighs. "That's better." There is some sickly sweet song on loop in the background - Kitty stands up. "Are you looking for anything specific?" she asks the void, not waiting for an answer. In a few movement she leaps up onto the stage and moves into the wings. "Just exploring." The announcement system turns on "Oh feel free to explore. I'm not looking for anything specific," Kisha says cheerfully. "The key thing is tuning it to other peoples brains and making sure they can control things without anything weird happening. Make sure you don't get migraines or any have body dissociation issues." The movement is a little on the floaty side. There's not a lot of simulated weight after all. Just resistance generated by ultrasound and water jets. But the visuals are realistic enough it's easy to forget it's all virtual. Backstage is pretty much what she'd expect from a theatre performance set in the 40s. There's a bustle of assorted extras bringing things to and fro. Signs of previous costume changes from the earlier acts. A little more exploration and she'll find a window. Outside it's a view of New York taken from a period newsreel. Still in a crackly black and white. “Right, okay,” Kitty says, trying to get a handle on how to get up onto the stage. “Will keep you posted on migraines.” Once backstage, Kitty slides past the chorus girls and looks down on New York City. “Looks different,” she remarks, contemplating the view. A beat, then she tries to walk through the window and the wall it is in. The more Kitty thinks about the differences the quicker the simulation tries to correct them. Palette swaps of old buildings for new. Her phasing works just fine. So long as she believes it'll work. Of course.. if she really phases it'll be a quick trip into the office downstairs. If that happens then here's hoping no-one is working on the weekend! Outside it's strangely quiet, at least to begin with, and then various 40s era cars and trucks appear from around corners. Pedestrians seem to walk out from doors in unison as the setting tries to catch up. It’s a slip into the outside. “Like a period piece up in here,” Kitty mutters, watching with wide eyes as the sim catches up. “Is there supposed to be lag?” A beat, and she thinks hard. A sports car, modern. Convertible. Or maybe a Great Gastby kind of thing. “Let’s go for a drive.” The car, more of a Great Gatsby sort of deal, is just there on the side of the street when Kitty looks around for it. The radio sparks into life and Kisha's voice comes out "Some lag is inevitable, it's tricky converting brainwaves into VR. As for taking a drive... It's not outside of the systems capabilities just..." There's a pause while she chews her lip. "How to phrase it delicately. It's going to simulate the bumpyness of the ride using ultrasound and water jets pointed at your butt and you might not find the experience unpleasant per say just socially awkward? Anyway I know it's not the ideal way to generate tactile sensations but the haptic suits need custom fitting and that's expensive." The car interior looks exactly like a car from the period. Thankfully classic car stock images are plentiful! "Oh and if you have a.... you know... an intimate piercing. It won't just.. ah... tickle. You'll probably find the biomonitor kills the system thinking you're in distress." Kitty snorts. "Ah, budget problems. Been there." She looks at the car, climbs in anyway. "We'll see how unpleasant it is." This comes on top of Kisha's last comment - "Kisha!" Kitty slams on the accelerator. "Shouldn't you screen for that before dunking people in here?" A pause - "I'm, personally, good down there." "It's not on the list of required questions," Kisha admits, then with a sigh she adds "I guess I'll add it? It won't matter once I have a haptic suit that's easily adjustable worked out. The jets won't need to be in for that." The car ride isn't exactly uncomfortable. At least physically, the conversation it another matter entirely! It's just weird and, coupled with the attempts at simulating motion, a little immersion breaking. "Besides usually I just imagined a jetpack instead of a car.." Kitty grumbles, something about who runs this lab, anyways and focuses on driving. "Jetpacks? Pft." Though, she's curious now. What about a flying car? "It feels like one of those rides at arcades," Kitty comments as the simulated New York rushes by. She takes a turn, thinks about the robot simulation in the Danger Room, then tries to change the train of thought when she remembers where she is. "That or a... well it's classified. You know there's plenty of enjoyment to be had shooting Nazi's while flying with a jetpack. Even if it does meaning using a hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of computer equipment as the worlds most expensive computer gaming system... And technically once you have better control you can just teleport or fly unaided. The jetpack works more as a mental focusing aid." Kisha explains. The answer to who runs the lab is probably her. Or Tony if/when he stops by. Although neither of those options are likely to mind the critique too much. "I never went to any arcades. They tend to frown upon people taking apart the machines and where's the fun in that?" Kitty's car begins to float up. Kitty looks down at the ground, thinks a minute, says "Fuck it" out loud, and jumps from the car to the ground. She wants to float down, the way some of the fliers in her class do. "We gotta find you a better arcade," Kitty shouts to Kisha, thinking now a little bit more about shooting Nazis with shotguns. "Maybe some old machines or something." "My power lets me build literally any arcade machine I want from scratch," Kisha points out with a shrug that Kitty can't see but is implied by the tone. "Besides I'm generally busy working on stuff like this. I don't really need recreation time when I like doing what I'm doing so much." She chuckles. "You don't need to shout though. I'm not in the tank but the helmet has a microphone feed. I can hear everything you say clear as day." The shift to a more action mindset causes some of the nearby cars to adjust so the occupants are in period appropriate German uniforms and pulling out sub-machine guns. The bullets won't actually hurt just more tickling water jets. And if she thinks hard enough her own weapons will start rattling around on the back seat. "Right, sorry." Kitty's voice modulates down to a more reasonable volume. Her expression is a little put out, but then there are Nazis to fight. She grins, reaching around for a shotgun in the back of the car. "Kisha, did I ever tell you," she says, tone light, "That I wanted to be a Nazi hunter!" "I can't recall anything like that off the top of my head. So.. No? I didn't plan for it anyway," Kisha replies thoughtfully, her voice seeming to come from the car stereo. "It might serve as a good final 'test' for a high performance load though. Multiple objects to track, fast rate of scenery generation and the visual effects. Should also provide a brainscan benchmark for a higher adrenaline state." There's a sound of a few switches clicking from outside the tank. "Should be ready when you are. We don't want to keep you in there too long though. It's not bad for you, actually the tank is salt water so it's pretty good for the skin, but some people do find extended periods of high focus can be draining. Plus you might not notice but time flies by when you're in VR. If you think it's around noon it'll stay around that point indefinitely. Anyway I'll stop talking so you can... you know. Imagine being shot at." And shoot they do! The cars swerve and begin trying to get alongside Kitty, a lot like an Indiana Jones car chase, and open fire with a hail of bullets that leaves holes in the car window. Kitty laughs, an imagined Magen David pendant swinging from her neck now. "Beam me out whenever, Scotty," she says, loading the shotgun. Her aim is.... bad. But the imagined bullets miss her anyway, the car now driving on it's own to facilitate the fantasy. BAM. A tire on another car goes, sending the imagined SS officers flying. Kitty winces - it's a little more gruesome than she expected. "You would not believe how much the US Military paid for realistic gore," Kisha notes absentmindedly as Kitty begins her WW2 GTA rampage. Thankfully the car can coast along in a straight line forever so long as Kitty believes it will. "The physics calculations alone... Still I'll likely be able to own my own apartment before I'm in my mid-twenties. So it's not all bad." One of the cars pulls alongside and a pair of soldiers begin trying to leap onto the roof of Kittys car. Knives between their teeth as they desperately try find a way inside. A broken window, unlocked door or even a broken sunroof. "Clear out the last few cars and we'll call it a wrap?" she muses. "I don't want you making yourself ill seeing too much viscera and puking in the tank..." "I think I can," Kitty says, taking out some Aryan looking schmuck with a single bullet. She would respond to the home ownership comment, but she's distracted by thumping on the roof of the car. Grabbing onto the side of the window, she phases through the roof and decks one of them with a well placed fist, the other off the car with a roundhouse kick. "Clear out the cars. Got it." She takes the wheel again, pulls alongside another car, and leaps into the trunk. The original car Kitty was in swerves off the road, crashes through a stack of boxes, and then hits some sort of ramp which flips it up into the air and sends the two Nazi's on the outside rag-dolling into the distance. It then slams into something and explodes violently. Just like an over the top action movie. Either Kisha has tweaked the settings to make it more over the top or the general sense of excitement is influencing the system! The trunk of the other vehicle isn't very exciting. There's a tire iron and some sort of folded blanket. The detail is also a bit lacking as people rarely tend to photograph the inside of the trunk and the simulation seems to be struggling to find a suitable image in time. "Someday I should work out some sensors that can properly scan you while you're phasing," Kisha muses. "I bet if I could replicate the ability with a machine it would be... well pretty fuckin' groundbreaking." "Holy shit," Kitty says, eyes wide as the explosion rocks her back. "This is cool as hell." She moves through the trunk and into the cab, takes out a couple more soldiers with flashy, movie style moves. "You're welcome to try," she says, both to the Nazi threatening to stab her and to Kisha. "Generally real phasing fucks up electronics though. Don't know how you could get around that." Another punch, and the soldier drops out an open door. "Solid state sensors. Maybe some sort of bio-engineered organic computational equipment but that will take decades of study," Kisha muses. Mostly to herself given how much sense the last thing makes. "The problem is I'm going to need to extend my lifespan quite a bit to finish half the ideas I have in mind...." And now Kitty has taken over a truck. The Nazi rolling out and getting an end you'd expect in a Mad Max movie. A stick grenade arcs through the air and explodes on the sidewalk. Shattering glass and creating a series of bumpy force feedback nudges to simulate the 'damage' she'd have taken. Kitty laughs a little at Kisha’s brainstorming. “Good luck with that,” she says, grabbing the wheel of the truck. “If anyone can crack aging, I’d bet it would be you.” She swerves as the grenade hits, recoiling as the feedback hits. “It’s a bit smooth,” she comments. “I dunno how to fix that, but sometimes I can still tell it’s water, you know?” "The haptic wet-suits should cover that. They have little bundles of fiber that can tighten and move to simulate pressure and movement. Texture is decades off though. Probably would be easier just to input the data directly into the spine than make the inside surface replicate anything you could possibly touch..." Kisha says, a hint of distraction creeping in as she checks data and makes notes for future projects. "From the background research I did into sensory deprivation tanks it's actually easier to forget the water if you're not in a bathing suit. Not sure it'd catch on for testing though." As Kisha rambles on the final two Nazi trucks make a co-ordinated attempt to run Kitty off the turn that's coming up ahead on the road. One pulling alongside and another trying to shunt the rear of the car. "What, like a spine implant?" Kitty veers right, running her truck against the one running up on her. There is a noise of the grinding of metal - with one hand on the wheel Kitty shoots through the other car's window a couple times. "I think that would go over better than buck naked." She slams the breaks and goes immaterial just as the impact from the car behind launches her forward, flying through the engine and onto the road. "You're the first person to ever say that," Kisha replies with a laugh. "But then again everyone else has responded after seeing the size of the spinal needles...." The truck Kitty had briefly stolen is slammed into from behind, sending a shower of car parts everywhere, while the car ramming from the side suddenly finds itself overshooting and getting smashed in the side by the truck. The 3 car collision keeps traveling down the road, slowly screeching to a halt. One of the occupants manages to fire some wild Luger rounds off that pass right through Kitty much to his shock and dismay. “I’m not too scared of needles,” Kitty says, looking down with amusement at the passing bullets before jogging up to the wreckage. “While I am, somewhat irrationally, attached to my modesty.” She gets there, phases her arm through a window and pulls a man about halfway out through the hot metal, then lets go with the man about halfway out. She’s not smiling, exactly, but there is a look of determination on her face. "Neither am I but it's a really big needle," Kisha replies, her voice now coming out from a radio on one of the deceased soldiers. "Ew. That's.. not something you've done to a person is it?" Thankfully there is no smell-o-vision. Because the phase into hot metal doesn't look pleasant. The Nazi's face twisting with a mix of horror and pain. The last few Nazi's actually seem to panic and try scramble out of the ruined vehicles. Throwing another grenade that explodes with a shower of harmless shrapnel that Kitty can casually phase through. “Jesus Christ, Kisha, no!” Kitty breaks into a run, decking another Nazi and shooting the ones that get away with cartoonish precision. Her expression is still pretty determined, despite the carnage surrounding her. “A couple of test dummies was enough to make me lose that idea.” "Can't blame me for asking. You did just go on quite the rampage," Kisha points out matter-of-factly. "And the whole X-men thing has always struck me as being a bit... you know... odd." And with that Kitty seems to be alone. Some fires smolder and a cloud of tasteless smoke billows up into the air. A computer generated tone plays and then announces that the simulation will be ending in 5,4,3,2 and 1.