A Dire Order

Characters: Delta Dire Sebastion Gilberti
Rated: PG
Summary: Dire and Delta contract Bastion's aid for a mysterious plot…aided by Dire's portable throne.
OOC Date: Wed Mar 07 21:01:43 2018
IC Date: Wed Mar 07 21:01:43 2018
Where: South Bronx - The Bronx - Manhattan, NY

The South Bronx is an area of the New York City borough of the Bronx. As the name implies, the area comprises neighborhoods in the southern part of the Bronx, such as Concourse, Mott Haven, Melrose, and Port Morris

+view and +local are available.

The South Bronx aren't the best areas of town, perhaps. Melrose, for example, has seen a drop in violent crime of 73 since the early '90s. Even then…it's still a really rough neighborhood. Not as bad as Port Morris, but there's certainly a lot of shuttered businesses and condemned buildings here, some from previous superhero battles, some simply from neglect.

In the midst of this is a closed parking garage, with a high fence having been raised around it to prevent the more industrious homeless or druggies from getting inside. The gate appears to be locked…but a closer inspection will find the lock is not actually engaged…easy enough to open, pull open, and step inside. The garage itself is dark, as the main lights are off. However, the emergency lights are on, bathing the interior in faint reddish life, enough to navigate through. Large cracks run along the cement here and there, nothing quite that make it structurally unsound…but it certainly isn't sound either.

The message requested that Bastion ascend to the third floor…and there's a creaky but functional elevator if he chooses to risk it. Meanwhile, on the third floor, a huge throne has been laid out, on which an armored figure patiently waits, resting her chin on a armored gauntlet, the faint smile of her concealing mask seeming to almost float in the darkness of the throne.

BEcause you have to wait to use the special effects when someone is around to appreciate them, after all.

Standing just behind and to the right of the throne, is another figure in armor. Although, this one is considerably smaller, and her armor's designed a lot less like a walking tank, some kind of undersuit visible in the gaps between plates. Depending on one's pop culture awareness… They might recognize her outfit as very similar to a certain sci-fi shooter game, although with some modifications. «You think he's coming, Boss?» Ah, the benefits of helmet comms.

The car, a tinted black SUV - a big Mercedes-Benz GL-Class, suggests some kind of 'problem' right from the immediate get-go outside, that maybe somebody ELSE is coming. But then after it pulls up to the gate, and Gilberti actually climbs out, casually, and opens the gate fully manually. And then back into the vehicle. Which, considering the narrow gate, actually is going to take a very slow approach to going in. No need to scuff the immaculate paint. It's just asking to be in a government motorcade, or something like that, by the look of the thing. Gilberti himself doesn't clash with it, either. He has black and gray digital print camo pants on, a snug black tee, no jacket, heavy boots. It makes his military cut stark blonde hair more sharpened.

He does not drive up any floors, he parks on the first, and hunts for stairs. If there aren't any he'll risk the elevator fearlessly. Either way, he only brings a simple black messenger bag as he steps out to take in the interesting setup. He reeks of former military or police; one of those people that would be a disaster undercover. And does appear fully human.

«He's coming. Reliable. A good thing.» Dire responds, then tilts her head up as she hears the footsteps approaching, before murmuring to her armor. "And…scare." At the command, the darkened depressions that hide the optics for her mask glow to life, a menacing crimson that shimmers, lighting the pale, ceramic face with its faint little smile, before there's a WHOOOSH! as the skull atop the throne bursts into life, exhaling flame and smoke, with a even more menacing grinding and groaning from the throne's internal systems.

Revealed in the firelight is a bulky figure, seated on a throne of spiked metal and components. A red hood become a cloak that falls carelessly down the back and underneath where the figure is seated. And when it speaks, it's in a voice that projects, a genderless mechanical voice that seems a mix of Starscream and a Dalek who learned to properly enunciate and not emphasize EVERY word. "DR. BASTION. HOW NICE OF YOU TO JOIN US…"

«Oh yeah, here he comes.» Delta had stuck a couple minicams on the outside walls, because it's always good to have eyes everywhere. As Bastion approaches, she takes a few steps forward, placing a bundle of metal rods onto the ground, which with a series of whirs and clicks unfolds into what looks like one of those folding camping chairs, built with titanium and carbon fiber. The woman retreats back to stand next to her leader, scrutinizing the scientist. «Ooooh. Looks like You're not the only one who likes that movie series and builds robots, Boss. He's… Shiny.»

Bastion reacts appropriately at first, he entirely stops, much like you would expect from someone in a very weird situation. And of course, one of his first moves is to flip through his own vision modes, though his heat scanner is not so useful with the huge plume of fire, so he doesn't linger there. He's put off of what he intended to do, and sort of pauses, but this isn't the first person that's jumped at him while doing this gig. Though a gun in his face is a bit more what he expected.

"….Hello," is Bastion's reply. He's got some lungs on him, it's a strong answer. Simple, and maybe a little bit put out, but he adapts with a slight adjustment of his head, and approaches, nearing the chair. "Impressive," he adds, with a spread of hand to the display. It isn't sarcastic. He does think so. "D," he says in greeting, polite. No fear, and a bit thrown still, but polite, yes.

"DIRE FINDS IT IS USEFUL TO MAKE A MEMORABLE FIRST IMPRESSION." The armored figure straightens, both gauntlets coming to rest on the arms of the chair. "YOU STAND BEFORE DOCTOR DIRE." There may be a faint dry humor as a gauntlet motions to the chair Delta puts down. "BUT YOU ARE WELCOME TO SIT IF YOU PREFER." The voice does echo slightly around the immediate area, setting off eerie reverbs. "THIS IS HER ASSOCIATE, DELTA. DIRE APPRECIATES YOUR WILLINGNESS TO MEET HERE."

Delta nods. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm sure you and my boss can come to quite an interesting arrangement." Her own voice is somewhat roughened and electronic, but still a LOT more human than Dire's. "Don't worry about your car, I'm keeping an eye on it."

Bastion smiles a little bit into the interesting commentary. It's fine, and he's relaxed. He's evidently decided that he's fine with what he's dealing with: whatever this is. He nods once. "Thank you, Doctor Dire; I'm fine to meet wherever you find comfortable," simply stated, and moves to the chair, seating himself and leaning back, one leg lifting to rest across the other. Comfortable pose. He does also shrug off his bag and set it down next to the chair, and tips a few fingers in response greeting to Delta.

For the robotic nature that Delta can see, he is possibly very impressively human. He has a natural, organic quality and type of motion: the little ticks of nose or jaw, a slight rub of fingers against his lower cheek in a mild itch there, imperfections of a humanity. Perhaps he's not just a robot. He has enough weird stuff in his system to be mysterious there, really.

He looks at Delta as she reassures him about his car, and then nods, with a quick smile. He does appreciate not having to worry about his car. "Glad to hear it, Delta." He doesn't push at all, he'll wait for Doctor DIRE to explain things whenever she feels ready.

«It wouldn't be the first time someone preferred sending a robot double to meet with us.» Dire notes absently to Delta, as she steeples her fingers, leaning forward. "EXCELLENT." her voice rumbles. "THEN LET US DISCUSS BUSINESS, SHALL WE?" The featureless mask tilts slightly, the red optics having long since vanished back to the darkness of the muse-like mask. "DIRE UNDERSTANDS YOU ARE A SKILLED CYBERNETICIST AND ROBOTICS ENGINEER WHO IS WILLING TO WORK UNDER CONTRACT." The mask tilts at that. "FROM YOUR…PHYSICALITY, IT SEEMS THIS IS TRUE. AS IT HAPPENS, DIRE REQUIRES THE CONSTRUCTION OF A CONTINGENT OF ANDROIDS. YOU NEED NOT CONCERN YOURSELF WITH THE PROGRAMMING NEEDED TO RUN THEM, BUT IT WOULD BE ADVANTAGEOUS FOR DIRE IF SOMEONE ELSE WERE TO DO THE HEAVY LIFTING, SO TO SPEAK."

«I think some bits are even higher end than me. I'll save all the data for you later.» At this point, Delta stands back and lets the grownups talk. Witty banter is good in cape fights, but right now it's just business. Which is honestly a lot more of Gamma's thing. She leans against the wall behind the throne, hands hanging at her sides.

Bastion nods slowly, adjusts his weight in the chair, hands folding against his knee. "You understand correctly about me. I don't, actually, use myself as a demonstration. I made a guess it would probably be robotics, and I'll summon a demo from my car, if you permit." Very polite, again. He didn't just come in with a robotic bodyguard.

"I can go over your request, check my current inventory, and give my quote based on number of units, required durability and weapons systems - if they need to fly, or look human, that sort of thing—, and what your timeline is for them," Bastion says, without really even pausing too much. This is a man that makes /robots./

"I would install my base systems on them which would follow general commands from whitelist source, but obviously you could overwrite it with your own AI. I expect you'd find that easier, to ask them to move where you want, instead of doing ANY heavy lifting; they're pretty substancial." A smile.

Dire leans back in her chair, her arms resting on the arms of the chair. "A SAMPLE?" The throne begins to rumble, rattling and shaking, as the skull flares up for a moment. Little jets of steam shoot out of several valves as a building howl of escaping gasses builds steadily!

Then the left side of the throne on the left side slides open and a cup holder holding a big gulp sized metal cup with a straw emerges as the throne returns to its normal looming state.

Dire reaches down to scoop up the cup, then idly sips from the straw for a moment, before she languidly motions with her free hand. "PROCEED."

Delta leans forward a bit, watching Bastion's reaction as the Dire Gulp deploys. She also flicks over to the camera currently focused on the car, zooming in a little. …What kind of demos could he have packed into there?

Bastion mostly watches the show, brows raised really high.

Entirely separately, at the car, a robotic, matte black and hard silver robotic humanoid lets itself out of the back seat. And even shuts the car door. And then proceeds to simply just walk to the elevator, push button. As if it just got a cue to come along and come upstairs. Maybe it did.

"Correct, although I don't know what size you're looking for, and it is deliberately unfinished, as I'm tired of people thinking I'm just dragging a random human up here to parade around," Bastion says, while he waits for it.

Dire waits patiently as the elevator carries the android upstairs, a faint 'ding' sounding as it arrives and is released from the rusted and muzak-filled interior. She studies it thoughfully as it approaches the throne. "UNDERSTANDABLE. PEOPLE DO TEND TO ASSUME THE WORST ABOUT SUCH THINGS." «Delta, your opinion?» she asides to the armored android for a more indepth scan.

"AS TO DIRE'S REQUIREMENTs, SHE WOULD NEED THEM TO BE HUMANOID IN APPEARANCE, AT LEAST TO PASS CASUAL INSPECTION." There's a faint hiss as a small panel on her gauntlet slides open as a memory stick emerges, falling into her hand as she offers it. "PHYSICAL SPECIFICATION ARE HERE, BUT IT SHOULD NOT REQUIRE A GREAT DEAL OF MODIFICATION, THOUGH SOME VARIANT IN HEIGHT WOULD BE APPROPRIATE. SHE WOULD REQUIRE 32 IN ALL."

«…Looks fairly standard. At least as far as robots go. Still not entirely sure what I'm looking at here, though. Still getting used to this world's tech base. Oooh, ask him about the power source.» Playing the intermediary again, Delta steps forward, taking the stick and offering it to Bastion so neither member of this… conference? Needs to stand.

"32, fine. Are they intended for battle? The intended use would help to determine which base model to work from. This one here is more the 'I need to protect my secret lab' prototype," Bastion explains. He moves to accept the stick, and then goes after his bag near his foot. Computer in it. If he CAN put the stick into himself, he sure isn't going to. That would be a ridiculous trust level and he's not dumb.

The robot approaches, and turns sideways, turns one palm at a column of cement, and does a little demo: of a pinpoint bright orange laser into the concrete. Bzzzt. Burns a slash through it. It adjusts, as if waiting for the next command, but Bastion is distracted with his computer. It looked pretty 'Iron man'; perhaps intentionally.

«It seems it will meet our needs then.» Dire leans back in her chair, pausing to sip from her cup, her head tilting as the robot blows a good sized hole in the concrete. "IMPRESSIVE FIREPOWER. IS THAT STANDARD, OR IN ADDITION TO YOUR USUAL PRODUCTION MODEL?" Dire asks thoughtfully. "IT IS NOT NECESSARILY NEEDED, BUT SHE PREFERS TO HAVE OPTIONS."

Delta has reconnected.

Delta has connected.

Delta has connected.

"The laser firepower, flight and some of the durability items are generally part of the bundle, but removing them can save on power needs and energy signature for stealth," Bastion provides. And will demo any of those items requested, including letting the robot get shot. Bastion himself shows nothing inhuman at all, beyond what Delta can pick up from staring at him, anyway. He will access the specifications, next, and will have unusual patience going over any and all of Dire's needs. He will check inventory, and create a quote, and they can discuss from there… but getting a clear scope is most important. Best for the client to be happy, of course. Particularly ones in very weird explosive chairs/thrones.

"FLIGHT IS NOT REQUIRED. WEAPONRY MAY BE USEFUL AS A BACKUP, BUT DURABILITY IS NOT AS IMPORTANT AS THEIR ABILITY TO PASS AS HUMAN." Dire confirms. "DIRE HAS TRANSFERED THE FIRST HALF OF YOUR PAYMENT. SHE WILL EXPECT DELIVERY IN THIRTY DAYS?" The last is questioning, as she adds. "BEFORE THAT WOULD BE HELPFUL, BUT IS NOT ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY." With a soft hiss of hydralics, she stands, towering over Bastion, before she offers her hand. "IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING…" she adds conversationally. "…THAT THIS IS A VERY PRIVATE ORDER. DIRE WOULD TAKE IT AMISS IF IT WAS DISCOVERED BEFORE HER PLANS ARE ACHIEVED. YOU ARE COMFORTABLE THAT THIS CAN BE ACCOMPLISHED?"

Sebastion Gilberti is about as fearless as one would expect from some science weirdo that makes robot armies. Which is actually decently so. He'll shake on it. "I only make deals I am certain I can make good on," Bastion answers plainly, direct. He has been calculatedly accurate, polite, and businesslike. The whole deal is simply wrapped in a bow from his perspective. "I would prefer to determine exact delivery location closer to the completion. I will send a request when that draws closer, to suit your pleasure again."

"DIRE SHALL MAKE SUCH COORDINATES AVAILABLE TO YOU ONCE YOU ARE READY TO DELIVER." she confirms. "EXCELLENT. SHE LOOKS FORWARD TO SEEING THE CULMINATION OF YOUR WORK." She steps back, then seats herself, the power armor hissing softly as it clunks back into place. "UNTIL THEN." she says, leaning back as her arms rest easily on the arms of the chair. Apparently…that is dismissal.

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