ArchivedLogs:Mad Science

Mad Science
Mostly just friendly Science!, actually...
Dramatis Personae Kisha, Micah	31 March 2013 Micah gets lost at Xavier's and runs into Kisha. Science! ensues.
Location <XS> Classroom Two
Acrid scents of chemicals sting the nostrils upon entering this classroom. Tall tables are set up in clusters, small torches attach to their sides, though they can be detached and stored beneath the desks at lessons' end. The chairs here are high, and come on wheels. Around the edges of this room are plentiful cupboards, many of them locked. The edges of the room hold sinks, as well, some of them carefully labeled. The front of the room has a number of whiteboards, though it lacks a teacher's desk. With it being Sunday afternoon the science classroom is about as empty as it ever gets. Which is why it's the perfect time for Kisha to take over in the name of SCIENCE. And what's on the menu today? Cleaning up large amounts of second hand surgical implants the origin of which is best left unsaid. Pinned up on the walls are numerous sketches of a Human skeleton with extra bits added in that go beyond the strictly medical. The teenage madscientist herself is dressed in black pants & an Aperture science t-shirt. Topped off with a mostly clean labcoat and little face mask to prevent the inhalation of anything icky. To help with the science she's got a little Bach playing for background music and a webcam set up to record the procedure for future reference. A slim young auburn-haired man in a TARDIS blue polo shirt and khakis is wandering in the hallway, muttering to himself about needing an exit. He has a massive canvas bag on his shoulder with…what looks like a mannequin foot sticking out one end of it. There are spatters of white plaster on his pants and a matching white fingerprint on the end of his nose. Music and fumes draw his attention. Thank goodness, a person who might know where /anything/ is! He slips just inside the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt--“ he interrupts himself to survey the scene before concluding, “Science! But…I am hopelessly lost. This place is big! And I’ve gotten lost in some of the finest medical establishments on the East Coast, so this is kind of impressive.” "Who are..?" Kisha wonders, trying very very hard to look innocent while dipping a metal skull plate into some acid. "Erm... I feel the overwhelming urge to say this isn't what it looks like. But even in my head that doesn't seem very convincing... So instead I'll just stick to asking why you have a giant bag with a leg sticking out of it. Because that seems pretty sketchy..." Micah offers a lopsided grin in reply. “Ohgosh, sorry! I suppose random strangers wanderin’ around schools is kinda… I’m Micah Zedner. One of my many hats is Prosthetist. I was here to see a student in need of my services.” He /giggles/ at her accusations of sketchiness, gesturing to Kisha’s…activities. “Sketchy, says the teenager with the pile of medical implants in the high school science lab?” He arches a brow questioningly. "These have been legally obtained from a crematorium," Kisha assures earnestly, giving the plate a little stir. "And are being used for project TEMP. But anyway it's nice to meet you Micah, hopefully you won't need to visit the school often. Unless your other hat is cookie delivery in which case you could make a killing here." Micah rests his bag on an empty lab table, on account of it is both /bulky/ and kind of heavy. Also, Kisha has clearly piqued his curiosity, and he is ambling further into the room. “Nice to meet you, too…?” he trails off, not having a name to supply. “Unfortunately, I’d only be deliverin’ cookies if someone else made ‘em first. Though…I do know someone who makes crazy quantities of baked goods, like, all the time…” He shifts, finally remembering to stop himself from rambling. “Well, that’s reassuring that you didn’t find ‘em in /livin’/ folk. What’s project TEMP?” Kisha glances at all the designs on the walls, then sighs. "I suppose it's a little pointless keeping it a secret when I've got all the schematics on the wall," she muses. "My name is Kisha. Project Temp is the Tatters Enhanced Mutant Program. I'm working on some very personalised body armour." She shrugs. "Kevlar stab proof covering, bullet proof plates and titanium bone re-enforcement. I'm sort of working on a budget however, which is why I've been picking up my titanium on the cheap." Micah also eyeballs the designs spread across the room. “Yeah, pinnin’ things to walls ain’t the best way to keep ‘em a secret.” He smiles reassuringly. “I promise not to tell anybody who don’t need to know about it, though.” His nose crinkles as a particular word catches his attention. “Tatters, though? Like, superhero lady Tatters?” "No comment? I don't really know anything about heroics, I've only been in New York a little over a month and I find reading the news makes me exceptionally paranoid," Kisha replies, fishing the plate out and transferring it into another vat of chemicals. "In future I'll have to scan the plans, then project them onto the walls and have a voice activated shut down for the projector. Complicated, but more secure." "Just a month, eh? You've still got more new-person shine left on you than /I/ do in that case, which is also sort of impressive. I get the paranoid, though...that's prob'ly for this best. All things considered." Micah frowns slightly. "Thanks, anyhow, if you're helpin' the person I think you are. She saved my bacon this one time. Still kinda owe her a drink if I ever run into her again." Easy as that, the frown is replaced once more with a casual smile. "I wouldn't say I've got new-person shine. I've been a person for fourteen years," Kisha points out with a grin that can just about be made out through the surgical mask. "It's not to be paranoid. Like one of the boys here seem to have stolen some of that goop that was on the Oscorp press release. Anyone catches him playing around with it, which he will because he's a /boy/, and then we're in serious shit." Micah chuckles lightly at Kisha’s protestations of age and experience. Oh, teenagers! His look grows more concerned at the mention of Oscorp thievery. “Stolen? Like, he broke in and stole experimental materials from a highly secure corporation that develops military grade tech?” Ohno, that sounds /way/ too familiar… Kisha scowls. "Well, he claims it isn't stolen. But seriously what're the chances someone would get hold of something like that legally? And all it'll take is for someone to connect it to him, then follow the trail back to this place. Then /everyone/ is in trouble..... Plus he ruined my blimp because he's a jerk." Micah’s hand scruffs at his hair in a nervous, habitual gesture. “Maybe he knows someone in development and he’s helping to field test?” he suggests weakly. Because, yeah, that would be nice… “Perhaps he needs another talkin’ to about what’s /safe/ and what ain’t. Wait, you gotta /blimp/ now?” Kisha giggles. "A blimp drone. I've been studying all kinds of drones after the whole rumour about mutant hunting murder drones. Making a blimp drone seemed like the best entry point into the field but it's not exactly /practical/." She shrugs. "Slow, hard to control when the wind is strong and it can't really do anything other than carry a camera. Although it did help me think up a great defense against drone aircraft using steel wire and weather balloons." Kisha’s giggling has Micah giggling, too. “You’re a fourteen-year-old body armour craftin’ drone makin’ defense experimentin’ girl. I have to say y’got admirable reserves of chutzpah.” A playful smirk toys at the corners of his lips. “Where y’plannin’ to set up these barrage balloons? That’d end up lookin’ like London durin’ the Blitz. Might draw more attention than it discourages.” "I basically have everything that has ever been invented inside my head," Kisha explains without a trace of modesty. "It isn't intended as a full time thing, you launch them when you know there are incoming drones. Much in the same way as I'd string up piano wire if I was worried about a mutant with superspeed coming after me. Cruel, but effective." “That’s impressive…like eidetic memory for schematics or somethin’?” Micah’s expression is genuinely impressed. He settles in a bit, leaning a hip back against a table but not /really/ sitting on it. The piano wire plan earns a low whistle. “Remind me not to get on your bad side…” Kisha shakes her head. "Not really. I just think about a particular thing, then I know how it's made and can pretty much build it. Big or complicated things are harder, but that just means it takes longer. I guess I could use it to just draw the schematics for things though... I drafted up a pretty neat plan of the Titantic." She tilts her head. "So are you... like everyone here... or do you do things the hard way?" "That's handy. Don't suppose you got any plans in there to set up prosthetic arms for a person with bilateral transhumeral amputations, but also has wings?" Micah's expression seems to imply that this is a legitimate question. He shakes his head at Kisha's inquiry. "I'm just the Friendly Neighbourhood Cyborg. No superpowers. Can't say as whether I'd call that the harder way or not, though." Kisha blinks a few times. "Erm... I don't think so? If someone has built some at some point then I might have it rattling around in the back somewhere," she ponders. "The trouble is the more unique an invention is the harder it is to find. Regular prosthetic arms I could churn out by the dozen, although I'd need the parts." Micah laughs a dry sort of laugh…not /actually/ disappointed, and yet. “Too bad. That woulda been some kinda kismet. Regular I can do. Parts is trouble when workin’ on low funds for me, too... Ah well, it was worth a shot.” "If I ever figure it out I'll ask the school to drop you a line," Kisha offers solemnly. "I'm guessing you know someone with wings who needs new arms? Are the wings themselves intact? Because I can't even begin to imagine how difficult it would be to engineer an artificial set of person size wings." “I’m workin’ on it. S’just /complicated/. Wings’re fine, fortunately. Just the arm parts ain’t what they used to be.” Micah goes fishing through a pocket, producing a business card, blue background with white writing providing contact information. He sets this on Kisha’s table, far enough away from her materials to avoid anything being disturbed. “That’s my info. if y’need it. Could be I might be able to help with this kinda thing, too.” His hand flutters to indicate the schematics. “Enhancin’ human performance through technology is kinda my wheelhouse.” Kisha sadfaces for a moment. "Shame, because that would have been a great excuse to work on a jetpack. Entirely unsafe, but so very cool. While you're offering help... From a medical perspective can you think up any reason why an underskin layer of kevlar might cause problems? Will I need to account for overheating?" Micah looks thoughtful for a moment. “Well, anything that’s bein’ implanted runs the risk of rejection. Also, havin’ a whole /layer/? That would give you some serious issues with maintainin’ vascular attachment to the cutaneous tissues. Large scale hypoxic necrosis is not good times.” His nose crinkles at the thought. Kisha blehs. "I guess I'll need to cut little holes and ring them with a non-corrosive metal," she muses. "Then the subject can thread the veins and stuff through them. That won't be fun, kevlar is a bitch to work with. Thankfully I'm not working with a regular Human otherwise pretty much everything I have planned would be impossible. The immune response issue I hadn't thought of.... But I could maybe account for it by getting an inner skin to be grown around it." This description actually causes Micah to wince. "That sounds...extremely uncomfortable, at best. I'd recommend stickin' to /external/ armour... But, then again, I'm not exactly an expert on the physiology of the Genetically Enhanced. So maybe it is more plausible than I'm thinkin'?" Auburn hair receives another idle raking, causing it to stand more on end. "Good luck with that, though... Hm. I should prob'ly get goin' and stop distractin' from your work here." The equipment on the table gets an indicative nod. "Don't s’pose y'know the best way outta here?" "Where are you heading? The medical labs?" Kisha asks, nodding at the bag. "If so just find the main elevator and go down as far as it'll let you. Worst case you'll set off alarms and people who can show you exactly where you need to go will be there faster than you can say CRAP." “Ha, no… I might could find that again without /too/ much trouble. That’s where I just came from. I’m actually tryin’ to get back out to my van and head home.” Never mind the fact that the van /is/ home for Micah. But ‘home’ sounds better than just ‘away’. Kisha ohs. "Out there, follow along and take a left. Then you'll be in the great hall, which lets you outside. Not sure where you'd go from there because I can't say where you parked. The important thing is stay on this level, no stairs up or down, then go outwards until you find a door. Then you can just left hand rule around the building." Micah nods, smiling gratefully. “Oh, thanks! I think I’ll be good once I get in the general vicinity. Outside the building. Things’re easier to find outside. Nice meetin’ you! Thanks, again. And feel free to call if y’need help with Science! Or if you stumble across any great schematics I should know about.” He offers a little wave before hefting his bag and heading back into the maze of hallways. "Cya," Kisha calls, waving her tongs before scooping out the skull plate. "Next time you're visiting I'll make sure I have one of my business cards printed for you. And good luck making arms for the winged girl!"