Summary:What good is having fancy tech if you can't use it for virtual tattoo tours? Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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The day is winding down around RESCUE and the albino is on the prowl. ..As much as she can be with multiple tracking devices and a Karl, though she still manages to make it look good. Another 'hand-off' is about to occur as the two seek out Posse in her room. Soon enough the cyborg will hear a knock on her door.
*
Inside the room a tawny white-haired woman opens her eyes from where she'd been reclining in her chair. Her hands freeze momentarily in the air as the illusory projections fade from her vision and her four walls return to focus. Thanks to some clever coding from a certain doctor, her work saves where she left off.
Standing up with a note of lethargy, Ava stretches her arms above her head and twists a little to ensure her black suit hasn't bunched anywhere. A few seconds later her green eyes are looking back at Neena as her door splits open. "'Ey, Spot, Karl," she greets to the woman and her guide.
*
On the other side of the door it is definitely Neena, orange badge and all. It's also definitely Karl hovering over her shoulder. He makes a show of tipping an imaginary hat then walks away, but something..isn't..quite..right…
Was Karl trying to hide a smirk?
And what's up with Neena? Did she get a haircut? Maybe buff up her shiny clothing?
Or maybe her -spot is on the wrong damn eye.-
"Hey Av" she cheerily replies while being perfectly nonchalant. "Mind some company?"
*
The moment Posse notices that is hard to miss for someone accustomed to the stoic vet's normally unflappable features. Her snowy brow quirks unmistakably and on the beat when she really should answer Neena's easy question all she does is blink.
"…Sure," she acknowledges belatedly before a crooked smile escapes across her face. "You know if you're an imposter you're kinda hotel sierra."
*
Neena passes by with a kiss to Posse's cheek, passing a wave back to Karl who's already walking away. The less he knows here, the better.
"Imposter?" she asks with some surprise, spinning about on a heel to look at the vet. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Yeah. The spot's totally on the wrong eye.
*
Ava turns as the door shuts behind her, snickering. "So how's the paint-on feel?" Right to the chase. Posse is still Posse after all.
*
"It feels really weird" Neena immediately changes her tune and drops the act, though a moment later a laugh slips out. "I can't begin to tell you how difficult it's been to not rub my eye, gonna get this stuff all over everything. Here, check this out."
A bit of paper towel and a dab of water and she starts wiping the temporary spot away. It takes a while and several paper towels coming away dark enough to look like they had just been used to clean Ava's suppressed AR-15, but eventually…
It's Domino with a naked face.
"It felt weird before. It -looks- weird now."
*
"I know what you mean," the heavily tattooed cyborg assures with some mirth, though her eyes soften to admit not a little sympathy as she folds her arm. Ava looks about to say something when the albino ducks into the kitchen to clean her face, but she stops short, instead watching the gradual transformation from Spot to Spotless.
Walking closer, the bionic vet takes in Neena's bare white face from across the short distance of the kitchen sink. For a few seconds she just stares. "Hell was your forehead always that big?"
*
For a time Neena stands there and looks back to Ava, letting her look at what is a VERY washed out face. She's cleared away the lip color as well, leaving a natural light smokey tint behind.
Then she's hanging her head with a groaned "Oh my god, Av" while a hand goes up to the forehead in question. Without another word she walks to the fridge in search of something strong to drink.
*
Ava laughs at the reaction she earns and walks around the counter to join Neena at the fridge. As usual it sports a healthy variety of alcohol, with the addition of a few fruit snacks, boiled eggs, and other snack-friendly single portions. The cyborg's filled it out a little.
"Teasing, Spot. Ya look good. Ya look… more you," she admits in a softer, more sincere tone as a hand settles on the albino's shoulder. "No more *%@#ing prison tattoo."
*
Neena's head dips forward once that hand finds its way to her shoulder. Soon enough she smirks then gently pushes the fridge door closed to turn and face the vet. "I know. And, thanks…but it's weird to hear you say that. You've only known me with a spot. -I- barely recognize myself without it. Not really sure what to do about this."
*
The cyborg offers a shrug and glances at her other arm. "Ya get used to changes. Yeah ya look weird without it but who gives sierra? The old one could have been tracking you so it had to go - simple as that."
*
"And go it did" Neena says with a faint sigh. "I should feel happy about this. One less way they can track me down. It'd have been easier if it was an implant. Some chip to dig out of my spine and flatten with a hammer. This one messes with my core sense of self. It had become something of a trademark for me. Yeah it made me easier to find but when you saw my face you knew shit was about to get real."
Turning back to the fridge to pull out a random beer, she decides "Now I feel like I bathed in bleach."
*
Ava runs her fingers through her short-cropped hair and cranes over the refrigerator door to snatch a drink for herself. "You know you can put it back if you want, or temp it for missions with a stencil. That'd be two mikes tops."
"I know a guy who's good with ink," the tawny woman adds as her two-toned green eyes lift to the albino's uneven bangs. "You thinking of keeping your hair like that?"
*
"Hair can change" Neena suggests with a dismissive half-shrug. "It was different so I stuck it out for a while. Also Martin can pop the spot back minus the tracker. Might be kind of fun to erase it before doing a mission, that oughta keep everyone guessing" she thinks aloud with a lopsided grin.
"Thing is, a few of you seemed like you were pushing for its removal, and it does make sense, but… It's become too 'me' to abandon. Still, I had to fuck with you at least once" she admits with a broad smile.
*
Ava smiles back and punches Neena lightly in the shoulder. "Well keep fuckin with me. You're good sex," she responds cheekily before backing away to return to the living room. The fizzy hiss of an open bottle tickles the air as she rounds the corner and takes a quick sip. "If I was in your boots I'd run a real disguise but you've got the whole luck thing, so you do you."
"You ever think of getting another piece of ink to go with the spot?" the cyborg wonders idly.
*
"Oh -that's- not about to stop" Neena calls back with a laugh. The cap on her bottle is soon twisted free and flicked aside to its respective bin as she follows after Posse. "If you were in my boots you'd be even cuter" she suggests.
The albino takes a seat nearby but situated to better face Ava as the question is voiced. It has her thinking about it up front.
"Any other day and I would have likely told you no, but knowing that we have someone on site who could erase it with nothing more than a thought does kind of allow some freedom for experimentation… To be honest adding some black tribals to a pure white canvas would look kinda badass. I'm gonna pin that one under 'maybe.' This should also serve as a reminder as to how bad of an influence you are" she claims with a friendly smile.
*
Ava grins devilishly and swirls her beer bottle between her fingers. "I used to get that a lot. Hell a whole platoon of sweet, innocent young Christian boys and me as platoon sergeant? The heat from all those bible-thumpin mothers wringing their dresses coulda heated our rations for a whole deployment."
"You'd look good in tribals," the cyborg admits as she shifts back from joking to conversation while running her eyes down Neena's suit. "Maybe get something asymmetric, get all metaphorical; put a domino with wings somewhere."
*
"Yeah?" Neena asks at first with a rise of eyebrows. "How badly did you break those kids?"
Meanwhile the seeds of thought have been planted and are already starting to take root. "Asymmetry seems to work out alright for me" she half jokes before giving Ava a somewhat peculiar look. "A domino with wings..is that a sign for 'get the hell out of here?' Makes me think of the Monopoly guy growing wings and getting out of jail free."
Mentally backtracking while taking a drink has another small chuckle escaping. "You know what… Suddenly I'm feeling like we could have a little fun with some markers."
*
"Domino with a cat tail, whatever," Ava shrugs as she drinks over the critique. "I don't do symbolism well. The bird on my side took a whole deployment to come up with. Wings for 'getting the heck out of Florida', so maybe for you it's a gator mouth instead of a trash bag or somethin'."
At the mention of markers, a scheming glint shines in the cyborg's eye and she smiles just a bit more. "Lucky you, I've got a set. Let's drink up a bit more, then we play."
*
The albino gently rolls her eyes, grumbling "In my case it'd probably be -bat- wings. May as well flaunt a demonic possession if you've got it. Can't blame you at all for wanting a reminder of getting out of -Florida- though."
"Why, afraid I might critique your skills as an artist?" she challenges with a slowly growing grin. "If you're half as good with a pen as you are with a gun then we should have a camera handy."
Not that she's going to argue the notion of drinking more!
*
Ava winks mischievously. "I can take pictures if you want. And I can do an okay sketch but nothing professional; I had lots of time to draw and nothin' else to do growin' up."
The cyborg sighs softly and studies her bottle for a few seconds, letting her mind drift with a little help from the faint buzz of her drink. "You've got funny timing. I was going through my old tattoos when you knocked…"
*
"Well I have to be able to see what you're drawing. Who knows, something might inspire me. You also happen to have -way- more experience with getting inked. I'm basically in the company of a pro. How fortunate."
Funny timing? "That's how I roll" Neena replies with another drink. Following is a quick chin-incline with "Here" as she gets up to take a seat beside the vet. "Let's see whatcha got."
*
The white-haired vet laughs as she leans shoulder to shoulder against the albino. "What are you hoping if you stare into my eye you'll see holograms?" she teases, and does exactly that from only inches away.
Ava smiles then asks in a hush, "Are you getting anything yet?" Then a pair of lips seal against Neena's trading brands of beer.
*
Um. Whoopsie. As far as errors go this one still manages to work out in Dom's favor. Free beer kiss! A close and personal encounter with a lovely cyborg! "I'm getting something, alright." All while she's trying to figure out what on Earth Ava's referring to..until the lightbulb flickers to life.
"I thought you had actual -drawings,- you damn Borg. With you I have no idea what's going on up here," she taps the side of Ava's head, "even more than usual."
*
Ava smiles mirthfully and takes the tap without retaliation. She got what she wanted too.
Slipping off the couch, the cyborg crouches down by her TV stand and snatches her VR headset from its shelf, then returns to her spot and scooches in hip-to-hip against the albino. "You really think I carry everything with me? Spot you should know how little I stay put. I've got it all digitized, twenty-first century style. Here. Field-expedient split-screen."
*
As Ava steps away Neena rolls back into the seat with another heavy sigh. "Yeah, yeah, but you're -in your room,- Av. I've personally seen an entire wall full of pictures of your past. You didn't take me on a VR tour for that bit."
When Posse comes back the albino takes the opportunity to slap her across the ass once. Maybe not JUST because she has it coming.
"Didn't know we could share the experience of rooting around in your noggin. This should be interesting." And definitely a call for more beer. Headset is go!
*
The crisp slap makes the cyborg straighten and Ava gives Neena's shin a playful kick in reply. "These are my /old/ tattoos, Spot. Like 'I had a duffle bag of government property and owned a bag of tampons I bought from the PX' old. Any Polaroids got lost three continents ago. Plus… yeah, I'm gonna' just leave half-naked pictures of myself on base where anyone can rat-fuck my stuff. Not the popularity I was going for in the 11th."
"Fiddle with the controls until that feels cozy on your head," she advises while guiding Neena's hands to the headset's dials before taking the cable and attaching it to her magnetic port. Inside the visor a soft glow along the borders gives the impression of an expansive theater or cavernous space, then a connection icon fades into the center of vision, surrounded by small test patterns.
"I guess… where do ya want to start? I've got a ton a' these things."
*
Neena laughs at the kick but soon goes right back to being confused. "Yeah..I get that they're old, which is why I figured you'd have physical drawings tucked away somewhere. Didn't think for a second they involved nude shots of yourself but now I'm that much more interested to see them."
She fiddles with the adjustments some then kicks back and gets comfy with another smirk. "All I see is emptiness. Definitely inside of your head." Where to start though? "Got any favorites? Maybe some that you think might look at home on me? Hell, I don't know where to start. I have -zero- intel on this op."
*
"I've got drawings for a couple of 'em but most are 'after' pictures, so yeah I'm showing skin," Ava explains as she looks over the reclining albino completely blinded by her visor. The cyborg thinks for a moment then sits back beside her and shuts her own eyes as well, bringing up her virtual menu and navigating back to the album she was in.
An image appears in Neena's view of a topless and prosthetic-edged back recent enough to look familiar. Ava's cybernetics are different, the same kind she wore following Ukraine, but except that half her memorial tattoo's ink looks particularly fresh, the woman's tattoos are all where they belong. "Here's the latest one I've got. Just a touch-up piece to fill in some holes," the woman narrates.
*
"You know…" Neena idly muses, "I feel like I've seen something like this once before in Demolition Man."
She's still not certain of..well..how ANY of this all works but from her end this is now a wholly hands-free experience excluding the proper and timely applications of beer. As the headset becomes filled with images there's a softly spoken "Huh. How about that. I recognize that cyber gear. But..hang on. Now that you can make an image of yourself all non-botified does that mean you have some means of showing off what your full collection used to be?"
*
"In theory yeah. Roni says it's possible," Ava admits. "First the old tats have to be added to the hologram and that takes doing some kind of 3D scan like she did on you or painting them on as 2D images. I was just starting to experiment on that when you knocked. Lucky I've got them all photographed but I didn't exactly take a runway spin in front of a camera for any of them."
"If you want me non-botified…" the bionic vet thinks aloud as she swipes at air to flip through her collection.
*
"Oh, so I'd get a turn standing buff in front of the scanner? Thought you'd never ask" Neena jokes. "But sure, you've talked about What Was Lost before and I can't think of a better starting point. Show me what I've been missing. Or as best you can." Voice dipping in volume, she thinks "Damn this is some nifty tech."
*
"Tell me about it. You and I spit rocks at people and the egg-heads are out making The Matrix happen," Ava chuckles in agreement. "I don't think I've got a real full-body of all my ink but…" The image in Neena's view changes again, fading into a new pattern of colors that paint a bare leg photographed rather awkwardly in a small bathroom. The picture is a little crooked but still recognizably Ava, with a pair of tattoos running the length of her shin on the back and side of her calf. On the right is the distinctive silhouette of a very tricked-out and camo pattern M4, complete with an underslung M203, an IR illuminator, and a smoking suppressor. Neatly paralleled and equal in height on the back of her calf is a lovingly detailed bottle of Old Monk with its cap open and a chilly waft of condensation rising even with the gun smoke.
*
"When the system inevitably takes over we both know who they're gonna call for cleanup" Neena 'kids' with a smile. Sure, it's a joke. But there's some truth to it as well.
Before that might happen she's using fancy bleeding-edge tech to take a glimpse into the past. "Aw man, is this for real? Out of all the tats you could have lost you had to lose the gun? Heh. Some might have seen that as a sign. Kinda glad you're waaay too stubborn to pick up that message."
*
"Hey if you want to be Trinity I'll run the trench coat. Plus I can kind of do that bullet dodge. Robot legs are high-speed," Ava admits in a last jest before sobering at the mention of her lost tattoo. The green-eyed amputee sighs wistfully. "Yeah I lost a lot of 'em. But 'quit' ain't in our vocabulary; if it ain't a bullet in the brainpan it's just another course to run. 'Sides I still have my plate carrier, grenade, and the rest. Maybe that was a sign to carry more demo."
"Here it is from the other side," Ava adds while flipping to another image, this one showing the other half of the whiskey bottle and on the opposite side from her M4, a heavily modified Sterling SMG which, among other things, is missing its entire magazine. Instead of smoke or steam, a cherry-red glow is blossoming from the barrel in properly futuristic fashion… almost like a certain movie.
*
"I could totally rock the Trinity look" Neena decides with a gentle nod. "In fact..I kind of already do. But somehow you don't strike me as a trench sort of gal. More bomber jacket." Pause. "'More demo' is the universal answer to all of life's little problems."
Then the 3D image pans around and the unmistakable lines of a certain sci-fi blaster comes into view. The albino grooooans. "Oh jeezus, Av. You're a -Warsie?- Credit lost, girl! I thought you had higher standards than that! You even have access to -actual laser rifles.- What the hell am I gonna do with you" she mock sighs.
*
"Oh frag off, like it wasn't a good movie," Ava counters with a nudge to Neena's ribs while chuckling just the same before stopping to take another drink. She still has beer after all! "Officially, I saw the movie and liked those. That Big Army started fielding laser weapons after I joined has nothing~ to do with it…"
*
Neena laughs softly and insists "You're delusional, dear" while getting nudged while she can't see it coming.
"Alright, so -guns- I get. We're both nuts here. What's with some of this other symbolic stuff, like the named shark and the dated helo?"
*
"Well I have been blown to heck once or twice. We're both a little TBI'ed I think," the cyborg retorts, then screws her face up in mild surprise at the question, even if the albino can't see it. "Those? Helo's the obvious one; that's when I got blown the fuck out of the sky. Took one too many flights in a UH-60 Crash Hawk… AAR says we took a sentinel beam from about 7 'o clock. Fell like a rock, took a surprising amount of time to impact, landing stung a little…" Ava pauses for a breath and steals another slow sip from her drink, stalling for a couple seconds to keep her voice steady.
"That's where all the 'borg bits came from, plus the touch-up art - my seven-grave squad plus the three SOAR guys… Autopsy says half probably died on or before impact, the rest checked out in the golden hour or surgery."
*
"Six years ago…" Neena remarks with a softer tone. "Christ. That seems like a hell of a thing to get printed." Doesn't Posse get enough of a reminder of that day whenever she looks in a mirror? "Okay, that one backfired a little" she decides while reaching a hand out to the vet. "Sorry, Av. Maybe you should pick the next memory."
*
It takes some groping but Ava puts her hand on Neena's thigh to make it easier to find, rubbing her lightly in gratitude as she smiles weakly sight unseen. "With all the silly stuff I've got inked, memorial is the least I can do. They all deserve better…" The bionic woman takes another breath, letting this one out slowly. Her expression collapses back to its flat norm just as quickly but her tone doesn't break.
"The bomb was a good one. I got that one early, back when I was PFC Nobody. Squaddies gave me the idea; some stuff out there just comes down to luck and fate and when it's your time, it's your time. It's kind of like having a bullet with your name on it. That bomb with my name is out there somewhere hangin' from a little string, and there's nothing to do about it when that string breaks. Kinda' thought it did when I crawled out of that wreck."
"The eye was my own damn fault," Ava adds as she remembers, "Cut it on a piece of A-frame or somethin' getting out."
*
A hand is quick to find its way on top of Posse's own, offering a reassuring squeeze.
"Again with the explosives" she quietly points out. "You might have missed your calling in demolition work. Besides. Nothing short of a bullet to the brainpan, right? You find that grenade you kick that fucker back over to enemy lines."
"Though if you ask me it's a reminder to be careful when slinging plushies your way" she teases.
"Alright. Tactical breath and bottoms up" she instructs, giving her beer an audible swish before pouring some back. "You said you were sorting through some old designs? Why not pull up a few of those next."
*
"I like a good bang. And who says I didn't do some?" Ava admits shamelessly. Following the albino's guidance, the bionic vet follows her through a breath and a long drink. She smiles again ever so faintly before the bottle touches her lips and Neena's thigh gets a pat. "Sure, yeah. Oh, I know one you'll enjoy…" And with that the tattoo fades away, returning to an idle screen while the cyborg rifles through her collection again, flicking her metal hand briskly through the air.
"Gotcha." Off-color lights, a different bathroom this time, and a tawny woman who's visible from just above the knees with phone in hand as she's frozen in time snapping her selfie. It's a younger Ava with her white hair in an impeccable high-and-tight, and even more toned than usual - a fact made more obvious by the half-squat, knees-together pose she's settled into, flexing her legs, her core, and her arms in front of the mirror. A full compliment of eye-catching tattoos are visible on her now-elusive limb: a tribal band that matches her more-embellished right arm, and emerging from the bottom of the tribals to spiral down nearly to her wrist is an explosion of scaled color ending in a bright, vibrant, and artfully distorted dragon head with a thick mustache and a wide sombrero. A glimpse of bone white ink is visible against the skin of her left thigh but largely out of frame, leaving the bold red and yellow of her right thigh tattoo center stage for the camera. The large round Lambda-branded of a Spartan hoplon is distinct and well-shaded along with a tall, sturdy spear. The hoplite behind it is rendered with equal fidelity and care… and /very/ female… and barely decent behind her shield.
*
Posse should probably see Neena's initial reaction to seeing the older photo. "Aww, look at the adorable little soldier!"
With that out of her system she's left asking "Okay hang on. You sketched these designs on yourself? I thought these were all done on scraps of paper or something." She hesitates briefly before thinking aloud "You're a hell of an artist. Also way more adventurous than I'd ever be. You could't pay me enough to put senior mustached dragon on any part of myself. But, that is one way to spend some downtime I suppose."
*
Ava snickers after her 'big reveal' and peeks back over at the visor-covered albino. "Adorable?! Spot you really do have fucked up taste…"
"Oh shit no. Yeah some might be around but I'd have to call up my artist to get copies. I took ideas and loose drawings to the guy, matched 'em against templates, things like that. An /actual/ artist did all this."
"And the dragon was kind of a spite tattoo. Needed something to cover a lot of my arm, thought some bright Japanese Yakuza thing would really pop, and since it already had a mustache I threw a sombrero on top as a middle finger to DCFS for tryin to make me Mexican."
*
"Hey, you know what" Dom starts in before sliding the headset clear of her eyes to look at the vet. "If this is fucked up then I don't want to be right. -Yes,- you are adorable. All full of vigor like you're gonna tear the world a new asshole. Just look—" she again pauses to put the visor -back on.- "LOOK at that attitude. -Adorable.- Granted it's kind of in the way an M82 is adorable but still fucking adorable."
The rest, though? Starting to make more sense to the 'bino. "Okay, that totally sounds like you. Aaand I should still be wary when you come at me with a Sharpie" she decides.
*
Ava laughs and in the aftermath is another smile and a tender look in the veteran's green eyes. "''Adorable like an M82''… Spot if you're accusin' me of art I'm accusin' you of poetry." The tawny woman laughs again softly and turns to face the merc properly as her hand falls to the inside of Neena's thigh. Her expression is relaxed and the mirth of their exchanged has cracked the stoic woman's shell again. Overhead lights glint off her left eye, giving it a backlit shine. "We're both a little fucked in the head but you're the good kinda fucked up. You /almost/ feel like fraternizing…" Then Ava leans in for a kiss.
*
