ArchivedLogs:Blimp vs Webshooter
| Blimp vs Webshooter | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2013-03-25 Peter and Ivan are in the tree-house up to no GOOD; Kisha tests her airship! |
| Location
<XS> Treehouse | |
Built by enterprising students of yesteryear, this treehouse has weathered generations of Xaviers' students coming up here to study -- or escape from studying. A cozy retreat, its wood planks are sturdy and well-sanded, fit snug together to keep out draft. Snacks occasionally find their way up here, and the roof keeps the rain off well enough to pass a night -- so long as the teachers don't catch any students at it. For anyone agile enough to make the jump, a lucky leap juuust might carry them from here to the school rooftop, so long as they're careful of the drop... There is an unusual sound coming from the exterior of the tree house. That sound is... THWP. THWP. THWP. After about a minute of that, there's a *THWUMP* -- from the window -- and now there's a Peter, crouching on the edge of the window, /rolling/ back into the treehouse, two brand new wrist watches -- different from the ones he gave Ivan -- firmly cemented on his wrists. He's wearing his red hoodie, blue jeans, and a 'TEACH THE CONTROVERSY' shirt with four elephants on the back of a turtle (and a world-plate on the back of the elephants). He's also got on his glasses and a grin. "Totally works," he tells Ivan. "Set it up so I don't even need to change the nozzles to fire a /web-ball/." He shows his palm, then -- the tiny circuit 'taped' in place, with two contact points -- left for web-ball, right for string, both for web-SPRAY. Which he hasn't shown Ivan yet, but he FULLY INTENDS TO. Ivan has spent his time being slightly more passive, choosing to try and watch Peter from one of those windows rather than actually climb somewhere he's not prepared to. He's dressed in an old, light blue shirt with the text DON'T PANIC written on it in even lighter, somewhat faded letters. No grin from him as he wanders toward the center of the treehouse, eyes firmly on a notebook he's carrying and scribbling in. He does, however, offer Peter a bright smile when the comfirmation of functionality comes. The notebook is held up, then-- it shows a list of all the things Peter can do, from 'talk a lot' at the top, to details of his abilities and today's new findings all the way at the bottom. It is a good thing Ivan is not a stalker because he is very thorough indeed. There's more than one kind of bug in Xaviers. And this one comes with blimp! Well sort of... Kisha has retooled her fairly simple blimp drone to include a little microphone and camera. She's even managed to get the engines to both work. Mostly. Which is why she's outside having another test flight, trying in vain to win the war on nature (in this case the most dastardly of foes 'the wind'). Slowly but surely the blimp drifts towards the treehouse door. She won't be using her toys for evil anytime soon though, not while the drone is still equipped with a really long piece of string tied to her belt. Peter peers at that notebook. Very curiously. And when he sees the list of things Ivan's written down -- *BAM* go Peter's eyebrows, right up for the hairline. And then, with a sheepish little grin... Peter reaches down, plucks up a small chunk of wood, /throws/ it at the wall -- and then double-taps both contact points.
/Oooh/. Ivan watches, eyes widening as Peter shows yet /another/ new trick. And it is a GOOD one, judging from Ivan's face. After Peter finishes talking, he pulls the notes closer again and adds another sentence. He's about to draw a messy little sketch of an illustration on the side of the description when through his peripheral vision something goes flying outside? And /stares/. "Peter," He starts quietly, his grip on the notes tightening enough to crinkle the whole thing. "What did the murderdrones look like?" Now that was /interesting/ Kisha ponders, watching the live feed from the worlds crappiest murderdrone, it's deadly weapon? Smothing people stupid enough to put their heads inside the blimp. "That stuff looks remarkably familiar. Try not to glue yourself to the tree," she shouts up from below the tree house. "Don't mind me. The baby Hindenburg here doesn't seem to have enough engine power to fight the wind. She's drifting like a little..." The sentence ends with a very obscene word in Russian. Because shouting that sort of thing in a language the teachers all understand is generally a bad plan. "Not like that," Peter answers, because he's already /looking/ in the direction Ivan is -- his head turning the moment Ivan starts staring. But -- rather than wait for any more information -- there's a steady series of THWP THWP THWPs as Peter tests the WEB-BALL setting on said blimp. Aiming for... important things. Because LAST TIME A DRONE GOT CLOSE TO HIM IT EXPLODED. But then, there's a voice, and Peter's eyes widen, and narrow, and /widen/ again. "Oh man that's Kisha's -- uh --" He switches to his outdoor voice: "SORRY I THINK I JUST SHOT YOUR BLIMP!" Well, with glue. Unlike the teachers, though, Ivan understands that Russian word all too well, and he simply can't help but crack a slightly lopsided little grin that he seems almost instantly ashamed of. But hey! No murderdrone, that's definitely a good thing. Although the bug boy winces a little when Peter goes and glueballs it, as though expecting a very displeased Kisha to follow it upward on the ladder. "I think you might have a problem with premature glue shooting," Kisha shouts up, scowling as all the delicate eletronics are ruined with gunk. "And I do hope you receive an allowance, because you've just ruined quite a bit of stuff which I can't afford to replace right now.... With what seems to be weapon based on Oscorp technology. Industrial espionage /is/ a crime you know." "Premat..." The word slips from Peter's mouth, a moment -- he blinks several times before his brain finally makes the connection. And then, oh GOD how Peter blushes. At the mention of an allowance -- and of ruining technology -- Peter's face turns even /redder/. "Uh -- turn it off!" he says. "Just -- the stuff'll dissolve in an hour -- it conducts electricity though--" Peter knows this firsthand! "--so maybe if you turn it off it won't short-circuit...?" If there's anything Ivan's not terrible good with, it's subtle jokes. And, well, a bunch ofo ther stuff, but that's not terribly relevant right now. He just looks confused as Peter fumbles, looking toward him as though his friend's face will somehow explain the joke. Nope, still not getting it. "-- ... /Sorry/." He adds, only just slightly louder than his usual voice, toward the opening to the treehouse. He DID suggest it might be a murdermachine! "You just jammed eletric motors while they were running doofus!" Kisha explains irritably, killing the power. "Plus there was a microphone which don't generally do well when covered with illegal adhesives. Do feel free to explain how you got hold of that by the way!" She scowls some more and stomps her foot, then mutters "This is what I get for being nice to people. Glue in my zepplin." "This is a no-fly zone!" Peter exclaims, all DEFENSIVE now. "And -- and they're not illegal how do you know they're illegal how can adhesives even /be/ illegal oh my God why are you /spying/ on people?" A glance to Ivan, then back to Kisha. And then: "I spent all my allowance on, um, stuff. And I can't work as a courier anymore for the Daily Bugle because I'm at school, now." MISERY. Kisha sighs. "I asked permission before I started flying the blimp," she counters. "And I'm not /spying/ on anyone. I have sensors on the blimp so I can tell where it's going! The microphone is helpful because it lets me know what's around without putting a million cameras on it. Advesives can be illegal if they're /stolen/ and that stuff looks exactly the same as from an Oscorp press release! Say, have you even told the teachers you're making a weapon?" "It's not a weapon," Peter says, and now he eyes Kisha carefully. The folds of his sleeves are tugged up over the watches, leaving them to disappear beneath the fabric. "And -- I didn't -- it was a gift." Half-truth. "Doctor McCoy already knows I talked to him about it." 75% truth? "And I didn't /steal/ it." Okay, you got me. Kisha sticks her tongue out. Because she is super mature. "That's all well and good," she notes. "Aside from how terrible you are at telling lies. But it doesn't quite explain how you'll be repaying me for the stuff you just ruined. Which by the way is stuck to a branch, so if you could perhaps unstuck it that would be a good start." She tugs on the string, causing the branch & blimp to move around. "It is /so/ a chemical weapon. It fires an offensive chemical at people or property! What if you got that in someones eyes huh? Or covered their mouth?" "It isn't -- offensive! It's totally non-toxic and all it does is STICK to things!" Peter exclaims, waving his arms. "And don't /pull/ it, it doesn't come -- you have to use a solvent to get it off but I am pretty sure the solvent would just gum up the electronics /more/ so it's probably better for you to just break off the branch and wait an hour. Also, you just -- I don't -- you flew a blimp at us! I dunno, maybe it still works, you could, um..." He glares at the blimp, now. Kisha gestures at the tree, then at the ground upon which she is standing. "I'm asking you to break the branch because you're the one who is in the tree! I can't /fly/ damn it. Also it is offensive, do I not look offended by it? Because I sure as hell feel it. As for flying it at you... I already said it was blown off course by the wind. What I fail to understand is why anyone would attack a blimp moving barely faster than walking pace?" Peter sinks down the entryway of the tree house slowly, lowering himself bit by bit -- he eyes the branch the zeppelin is attached to -- gets himself a good, solid position -- then reaches, snap, crackle, *SNRKT* -- breaking the branch even as he hefts up the blimp. "That's not what an 'offensive weapon' means," Peter says, eyeing Kisha as he clambors down -- *carefully!* -- with the blimp in hand. He soon adds: "I just saw it /there/, I didn't see how fast it was -- moving. Flying things make me nervous, okay? I'm sure it'll be fine in an hour." Kisha glares the stare of doom. "I know /exactly/ what it means. I could build every offensive weapon since people started sharpening rocks. My point is that saying your sorry followed by blaming, insulting and generally being a douche to someone you have wronged is just plain horrible. It'd be like me saying I forgive you, then poisoning your food with a powerful laxative." She pauses to give Peter time to digest the notion. "I'll be taking it apart and /everything/ which does not work you /will/ pay for. Or hey maybe I post the sample of that stuff I have to the Oscorp patent office and see what happens?" She pauses again for dramatic effect. "Or hell. I could tell the teachers. Trashing other students things not going to get you in anyones good books. I'd imagine you're already on probation after whatever the fuck you were doing in the sewers." As Peter settles on the ground -- blimp in hand -- the boy goes surprisingly quiet. Taking in everything that Kisha is saying; not responding. Glasses slightly crooked, eyebrows pressed together, mouth in a straight line. When she finishes -- he shoves it back into her arms. Forcefully! Not enough to, like, push her back, but in a very 'take-this-thing-I-don't-want-it' sort of way. "I'm sorry for splatting your blimp," he tells her, and his voice is very quiet, now -- speaking a bit slowly! "Maybe I can help you fix it. But threatening to get me in trouble unless I do what you want isn't going to work." Kisha doesn't actually take the blimp. She just lets it sort of float about in front of her on the piece of string. The blimp doesn't seem quite weighed down enough by the remains of the branch that it lands. "I don't need you to help repair anything. If it is broken I can fix it. And I'm not trying to threaten you! I'm trying to convince you that maybe you should do the decent thing and agree to pay for anything you have broken. I'm not unreasonable, it wouldn't have to be immediate or perhaps it could be broken into smaller payments, hell if nothings broken beyond repair I wouldn't even be charge you for the time it'll take. Perhaps if I wasn't utterly broke from making body armour for someone who helped save you while you were dying in a sewer I wouldn't even care." She crosses her arms. "Is what I'm asking you for really that bad? It's not like I'm asking you to kill a man or go rob a bank." "You're threatening to tell the teachers I wrecked your blimp unless I agree to pay for it," Peter says. "That's not trying to convince me. That's a /threat/." He's speaking very slowly -- well, for Peter. Actually, he's talking at a very /normal/ speed right now, but for Peter this speed seems almost glaciar. "Maybe I can help you pay for it. I don't know. I don't have any money right now; I don't even have a job. I don't know how much it costs. You probably don't even know how much of it needs to be repaired, yet," he adds. "You helped -- Tatters? Okay, listen," and Peter's hands go up, as if to ward off any more verbal blows, his palms out. "Let's talk to --" Brain rack. Who knows about his webshooters? Right. "-- Doctor McCoy. Tell him what happened. He can figure out where to go from there. But," he adds, lowering his hands again, "I'm /not/ a thief, this is /not/ a weapon, and I'm /not/ going to get pushed around by you." Kisha tilts her head, entirely unconvinced. "It maybe a non-lethal weapon, but it is still a weapon. Like an overly engineered netgun is still a gun." She brushes a hand against the blimp, then frowns. "I could tell you exactly what's wrong with it. Price is harder to calculate as it's not store bought.... And the correct word is /helping/ not helped. I'm still waiting on another second hand bullet proof vests to come in the mail. Purely as an academic point acknowledging that telling the staff is a threat is also an acceptance of guilt in breaking a school rule. Figured you'd wanna know for future reference." She eyes the blimp, then sighs. "Telling Doctor McCoy is an acceptable resolution. Either the school will cover my losses or it'll ensure you do. I do make the proviso that someone explains why people keep calling Jill 'Tatters'." It's clear by the way Peter's eyebrows begin to wrinkle -- and the way his hands begin to clench -- that he disagrees with nearly /every/ word coming out of Kisha's mouth. Except the bit about waiting on bullet proof vests to come in the mail. There's actually nothing to disagree with, there. Point being: His face is starting to get red, and he looks like he's about to /yell/ a lot of things at her. But, instead: "/FINE/. And I don't know." He STOMPS off. To tell Doctor McCoy what happened. | |
