realityshifted | (no subject)

[Sandoval steps onto the Plane hesitantly, as most new visitors should when they're introduced to it (in his opinion). It doesn't take him long to find the Kiosk, oddly sticking out against the starry background. Admittedly, walking over to a kiosk across a completely invisible floor is very odd, but he's seen strange aboard the mothership. The wariness is general and well-earned suspicion; this could all be a set up.

He's flipping through one of the brochures quickly.] Experiments leave a bad taste in my mouth. [Said to whoever might be listening, but mostly to whoever is actually running the scenario.] They're inevitably to find something "useful", and the path to finding something useful is so often unpleasant. [He folds up the brochure and puts it in inside of his coat neatly, raising his chin.]

My favorite is always "social experiment". Those are fun, aren't they? Let's test people's animal instincts against their fears, push buttons, watch reactions. Somehow the end results of those always seem the worst. No disease being cured, or medicine is approved. We just learn new ways to hate and be afraid. [He smooths a hand over his hair and looks over his shoulder, brow furrowing at what appears to be a... bar?]

So, what wonderful things do you have in store for me. For us, I mean. There are more of us here, aren't there?

[And he could just imagine that the results were fantastic. But there could be advantages here, a place for him to hide things, new allies.]

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[Almost on cue, someone else does show up, a someone in full body armor and helmet. For once, Wash isn't armed, which is probably for the best considering meeting newcomers while carrying heavy artillery isn't really the best way to give a good first impression.]

Hey there. [He gives a small wave of greeting as he approaches] I take it it's your first time here, huh?

It should be. Unless I've managed to be here before. Time and memory is a problem, I've gathered, but I don't usually forget. [the cyber-virus doesn't let him.

But that sure is a guy in body armor and a helmet, and Sandoval is mostly level for the fact that's the first person he's seen. Not what he expected.] Are you human under there?

Hah, yeah, neither do I. [He just has a really good memory.]

[He nods. He isn't really surprised by the question; he can understand why people would ask.] I am, actually. I can prove it if you'd like.

I am curious. [And that looks like a useful set of armor- it probably doesn't help against energy based beings. But he would like to see, and potentially find out if something like that could stand up against a Taelon if properly armed.]

Surprisingly it's not something my employers invest in.

[Employers that he's not fond of in the slightest.]

[He reaches up, releasing the helmet seal. It lets out a soft hiss as he removes his helmet, revealing a twenties-ish blond-haired man. He's wearing an expression that reads, "See? Told you I'm human," but it's quickly replaced by one of slight puzzlement. Needless to say, his voice is clearer now that it's not being sent through the helmet mic.] Your employers? Are you involved with the military or some kind of defense firm?

The Companions. [He won't appear disloyal here, because he never knows whose listening. And Zo'or demands a high price for disloyalty.] Likely as unfamiliar to you as your suit is to me. I'm a Companion Protector. They are an alien race that came to Earth and offered knowledge and technology, and have employed some humans as personal protectors to high ranking representatives and members of the Synod.

I'm also an FBI agent, but my official duties have been directed toward my job as a Protector. Essentially, yes.

[Frankly, Wash is very surprised this man is being this open about what he does. He isn't...really used to that kind of candor even from those he works with, so getting it from a stranger is a little weird, to say the least. At least the FBI rings some bells in his memory.]

Wow. So...that kinda makes you a companion for the Companions, huh? [It's his attempt at a joke. Don't mind him.]

[The joke just gets the usual dry look that Tate's jokes usually get. Sense of humor, where have you gone in this man? And of course the part he's being open about is not the backhanded part.]

I do note that it would provide more protection than a suit. How is it usually controlled?

[Yeah, he's...used to his jokes not going over well.]

That's easy; I control it. [He flexes an arm, and turns it around and back.] There are different systems that the armor is connected to and monitors, but I do everything. It's kinda like extremely high-tech plate armor from medieval times, just without a lot of the weaknesses. It's even heavier than that old kind of armor too. Takes a little getting used to, and you do feel sluggish at first, but now it's like wearing nothing.

Don't...you guys have any kind of armored protection when dealing with the aliens or anything? Are humans adventuring into space yet where you are or did they find you?

They found us. [And they fooled them thoroughly when they did. He doesn't elaborate on the positives; the line of trite publicity that the Taelons manufactured for themselves, or the truth which includes how much he despises his employers.

But he does pull back his sleeve and show the edge of his skrill.] Adaptive nanotechnology inserted directly into my cerebral cortex allows me to control this weapon [which it's obvious that it's rooted right into his arm] among other things. But armor of that level is something we're not equipped with.

[He tucks his sleeve back down.]

Whoa! [Wash takes a step back, instantly creeped out by that thing.] That...that thing is a weapon?! And is it alive?!

Yes. [He tucks the sleeve back down over it.] It's a symbiont. And it's been very useful; it hasn't misfired on me once.

[Wash still can't help looking at the sleeve now that he knows that thing is there.]

Um.

[Yeah, he's going to need a sec to just process the different alien type exists like that. He can add it to the many things he's learned on the Plane so far, like how an alien from his own world can impregnate men and get them to give birth to human-alien hybrids. (Yeah, it's been months since he learned that and he's STILL thinking about it.)]

What happens if it does? Could it happen if it or you got sick or something?

It doesn't. It would be like someone's hand misfiring. [He points his arm off to the side and sends the slightest charge, aimed for the "floor" of the plain. He's actually a little surprised when it sparks off something unseen.]

[Wash kinda just stares for a second and isn't surprised this time, not even by the spark.] ...Yeah, that's weird. Not that ricochet, though. There's some kind of metallic floor beneath all this. It's pretty much why we can walk around on what looks like outer space.

Stronger than virtual glass. [He sounds surprised by this, and he kneels down to better look at it.]

So this is probably an illusion...?

[Wash shrugs. He doesn't know what virtual glass is, but he can make an educated guess.] Maybe. It could even be really advanced tech that nobody's discovered how to use yet. People call it the Machine for a reason.

Superior technology. [He snorts as he brushes himself off.] Do they enjoy gloating over it?

No, not really, though that's up for interpretation. [He pauses for a second, debating with himself, but then he decides to just say it.] I know that if we had that kind of technology? We wouldn't boast about it too much, if at all. It'd be too expensive to make and even more expensive to lose or risk enemy forces getting their hands on it.

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And I thought I had replied to this...

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