Rook
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Post by Rook on Sept 4, 2011 17:37:05 GMT -5
Earth, Month 1, Week 1, Day 3, Semi-Private
A tall, dark man is arriving at an office complex. It's a large building, all shining glass and metal with automatic doors. The lobby has a fountain in the center, and pleasant music piped in from hidden speakers. The music is exacerbating his headache.
The man takes it all in, appearing disinterested. He's dressed in a conservative black pinstriped business suit with gold cufflinks and a rich purple tie. He adjusts the tie absently as he steps over to examine the fountain, inspecting his reflection. His features could best be described as aquiline, if only because no-one ever describes peoples' faces as looking corvidian. He turns his head this way and that, as though he wants to memorize the details of his own appearance.
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Post by Needlenose on Sept 4, 2011 20:25:03 GMT -5
A receptionist spots the new arrival, and starts to speak up. "Eh, excuse me, si-"
"I've got this, Sandy. I've been expecting his ahrrival." A tall, well-built blonde man in sunglasses and a rather snappy white suit that could easily be called a pimp suit interrupts her as he enters in the lobby. It's possible that the dark man had been spotted on the building's camera.
"Aaaah, Mister Jack Dahwson, welcome to Biotech Unbound," he greets, voice soft and speech pattern rhythmic. "So good of you to meet with me today." He spreads his arms "Might I give you a tour of the facility?" There is something almost musical about which syllables he chooses to emphasize and which ones he hushes, though he's not exactly singing.
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Rook
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Post by Rook on Sept 5, 2011 17:58:45 GMT -5
The man calling himself Dawson turns to greet his host, momentarily taken aback, though it doesn't show on his face. He's wearing that to meet a prospective investor? Clearly the man has no taste.
"Ah, Mr. Black. I'm glad you could meet with me on such short notice," he says, extending his hand to shake. His dour English accent is in stark contrast to Black's exuberant speech pattern. "As I said in my message, both my clients and myself are very interested in the work you're doing here."
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Post by Needlenose on Sept 5, 2011 20:01:32 GMT -5
Dawson is wrong. Black has taste. He has all the taste. Ever. Which is why Dawson can't see this.
"As well they should be, as my work is very interesting!" Prometheus states confidently. "As I am sure you will agree after you've seen what we have to offer." He gestures towards the door he just came through. "What I have to show you will blow you away, if you'll please accompany me."
OOC: I propose we do this tour over only a couple of rounds, with just a few 'highlights' per post?
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Rook
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Post by Rook on Sept 7, 2011 19:18:25 GMT -5
White after Labor Day, Prometheus. White after Labor Day.
"Lead the way, I'm eager to see what you're working on. I understand your company's focus is to create biotech that can compete with machines in the market?" Dawson responds, falling into step behind the other man.
OOC: Sounds good to me.
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Post by Needlenose on Sept 8, 2011 14:44:38 GMT -5
It's always after Labor Day for one year, and always before Labor Day for another. Fashion 'laws' are made to be broken.
"The focus is to improve the human condition, but especially when that lets the humans themselves compete with machines," Prometheus answers arrogantly as he begins Dawson's tour.
The tour is a strange mesh. The first room is a nice, brightly lit lab where happy old people walk on treadmills and use other exercise machines, as Prometheus Black explains some of the work they've done in improving the human body, including the quality of life as that body ages. Then they pass through a very large room with catwalks going every which way, while below them mysterious vats of liquid bubble up. Prometheus's explanations here grow vague, but that's largely because so many chemicals are processed in this room that it would take quite a longer tour to detail them all. Then they move onto a very tall room where one wall is dominated by a rather sheer artificial rock wall. Several humans with gecko-like fibers on their hands scurry up the wall at a faster pace than should be possible, and Black explains that this is a project that they're working on for the US military before hurrying onto the next room which contains... a coffee machine.
Mind, it's a rather elaborate coffee machine, with tubes and flasks and pipes and wires coiling about each other chaotically, all before pouring down into one rather ordinary looking coffee pot. On the table next to it are several Styrofoam cups, sugar, cream, sweetener, spoons, and the other sorts of supplies you'd expect to see in a well-stocked coffee break room. He looks towards Jack Dawson and smiles almost suspiciously. "So would you care for a cup of coffee, Mister Dawson? Or perhaps some tea?"
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Rook
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Post by Rook on Sept 10, 2011 11:52:18 GMT -5
"It's certainly a noble goal," Dawson agrees, nodding. "On the one hand, certain jobs are too dull or dangerous for humans. On the other hand, no-one wants to lose their job to an automaton. Creating a better human is a good solution."
Dawson is bored by the elderly people on treadmills, though he gives every appearance of listening attentively. As they enter the room with vats of liquid, he goes a little pale and produces a handkerchief which he holds over his mouth and nose. He quickly recovers in the rock wall room, stowing his hankie, straightening his tie, running a hand through his hair, and silently daring anyone to call him out on his earlier squeamishness. He seems quite interested in military applications.
"I'm afraid I've rather lost my appetite for refreshment after your little monument to OSHA there, Mr. Black," he responds to the offer of a drink, smiling sardonically.
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Post by Needlenose on Sept 11, 2011 19:37:19 GMT -5
"That is a true pity, Mister Dawson." Prometheus pours himself a cup and takes an small sip. "It is absolutely perfect coffee." He takes another sip, then sets the cup down, just leaving it on the table. They pay people to clean these things up.
The tour continues to be as eclectic a mix as before, where cosmetic improvements are being studied alongside modifications to allow people to breath underwater (from the looks of things, that one isn't coming along too well), to make them tougher and stronger, and other more practical enhancements. Many (though not all) of the more military or police-minded projects tend to result in the subjects taking an almost animal-looking or otherwise somewhat disturbing appearance. He clears his throat. "Of course, most of these projects are in their early stages, we are still working to eliminate the side-effects, although so far they are thankfully minor." At least, the ones that get shown on tours are.
He pulls a keycard from a pocket as he approaches a particularly sturdy door. He runs the keycard through a slot, then enters a code into the number pad next to it, then places his palm on a small screen above it. And then the door slides open.
"This is one of our most exciting developments. The genetic modifier!!!" He uses three exclamation points for extra emphasis. The room is divided, a large wall with a window dividing the two parts of the room, armed guards standing on either side of the door that divides the two sections. Prometheus gestures grandly towards it. "Still in its early stages, but once it's been full developed, it will allow us to easily accomplish an endless variety of modifications with the touch of a few simple buttons."
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Rook
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Post by Rook on Sept 15, 2011 7:10:21 GMT -5
Mister Dawson continues to act very impressed with the tour, responding appropriately at all the appropriate places.
He will remember the code that Mister Black used to open the door there. It doesn't do him any good without the keycard and the handprint, but it's a start.
"So you can rewrite the genetic code of a living organism instantly? That . . . is quite impressive, Mr. Black. It must greatly speed up your research." His tone suggests a certain loosening of purse strings. Privately, Rook wonders if the device would work on Predacon pseudoflesh. It probably won't in its current state. But with a little Transformer ingenuity, anything might be possible. Of course, he can't turn it over to his ingenius colleages if it's here. He'll have to steal it first.
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Post by Needlenose on Sept 15, 2011 20:22:00 GMT -5
"You have no idea, Mister Dawson," Prometheus grins wide and unpleasantly. "As I said, the genetic modifier is still in its early stages, but it has already decreased development times by as much as seventy-six percent." He turns from his proud achievement to look back at "Jack." "As you can see, now is the time to come on-board. Once the improvements and modifications we've reaped from this device filter to the public, we expect stock value to increase considerably."
His grin widens further and he turns his body to face his visitor, rather than just his head. "If you are interested, perhaps we can arrange a... demonstration?"
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Rook
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Post by Rook on Sept 21, 2011 5:35:24 GMT -5
"You'll have data to back up that rather impressive figure, of course," Rook states nonchalantly, leaning forward, hands clasped behind his back, to peer through the window at the device.
"A demonstration?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow. "I'd be delighted."
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Post by Needlenose on Sept 21, 2011 21:30:02 GMT -5
"Why, of course we do," Prometheus answers. "You'll be provided with what we've made publicly available before you leave, though you must understand that we cannot share all data. There are the military projects, and we must guard certain things from the... competition."
He then turns and strides to the wall, pressing a button. "Doctor Yoshimoto, prep the three o'clock subject. I'd like to run a little... demonstration for our guest."
"Yes, sir!" comes the voice at the other side.
A few moments later, two men in environmental suits lead a nervous looking young man into the portion of the room on the other side of the separation, standing him in a bulls-eye more or less in the middle of the room. The man's gaze darts around, causing him to look like he might jump and run off at a moment's notice. The men in environmental suits scurries off.
Promethus Black walks grandly towards the control panel, handing Dawson a pair or dark glasses as he does. "Today, we will be combining the DNA of this... volunteer with that of a bumblebee," he explains, "in such a way to grant this young man the power of flight!" He adjusts a few of the controls, turns a dial, pushes a slide, and then, finally, pulls a lever. There a humming noise that builds in pitch, higher and higher, until finally a beam of brilliant light comes out from the ceiling and strikes the young man on the bulls-eye, the luminescence filling the other side of the room and spilling out the window. If Jack has not put his sunglasses on by now, he will probably be temporarily blinded, but even if he has, it is, for the moment, impossible to make out the details on what's happening on the other side of the glass.
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Rook
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Post by Rook on Sept 25, 2011 10:33:54 GMT -5
Rook observes passively as the volunteer is led into the test chamber. He wonders idly if Black is getting his test subjects from the prison system. It must be ever so difficult finding people it's ethically acceptable to perform hazardous experiments on when you aren't at war.
"Not that I'm a subject matter expert, Mr. Black," Rook says as he hastily dawns the proffered protective eyewear, "but I did do a bit of background research before coming. Why are you combining the volunteer with a bee instead of a more closely related organism, say, a bat or a bird?" It's entirely possible Black is doing so because he doesn't want the volunteer to lose their hands in the process, but Rook is curious nonetheless.
He squints into the light, despite the sunglasses.
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Post by Needlenose on Sept 28, 2011 18:39:37 GMT -5
"Because... I can!" Prometheus proclaims with a wide grin. Then he shrugs. "But also, because of the necessary wing to mass ratio. A bee, specifically a bumblebee, flies using principles closer to what a helicopter does. Smaller wings to fly, more useful to something the size and shape of a human."
"Well, and so he can keep his hands."
The light fades. The subject on the other hand becomes visible... visible, and appears unchanged. Black frowns and leans forward. Then the man twitches. He reaches up and starts to scratch the backs of his shoulders. He scratches more and more furiously. Black grins.
And then the subject breaks out in very visible hives.
"Nnnnnnnnnngh!" exclaims Prometheus Black angrily, slamming his fist down next to the control panel. Then he recomposes himself, slicking back his hair. "As I have said, it's still... under development."
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Rook
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Post by Rook on Oct 1, 2011 21:10:46 GMT -5
Rook refrains from making a beehive joke, because he is a classy dude.
"Well, any new technology is bound to have a few hiccups. What's important is that we keep moving forward. No progress without risks, after all." He nods sagely to himself, then leans forward conspiratorially, dropping his voice to a whisper as he addresses Black. "I trust there've been no, ah, fatalities, during the testing process?"
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