Out of the Frying Pan [OTA]

[forgebyfire]

Forge had seen his share of hard winters growing up in Montana on the rez; he had spent hours breaking skims of ice from basins and water troughs, was proficient at walking in snow shoes and knew the perfect mix of fatty oils to work into his hands to when they'd start to chap and crack--ironic as that knowledge was to him now. Yet for all of his

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[flowlikemagma]

Allison was out in the snow, doing her now-daily laps around the building. She wasn't thrilled it was snowing. Again. But she had to run. Otherwise, she just ended up screaming at people and having to pull back her magma form every 5 minutes.

Girls with temper problems and the ability to incinerate people shouldn't be kept indoors.

She rounded toward the door, huffing heavily. The sound of the Jeep's engine cutting out caught her attention, and she headed toward it, taking breaths of cold air that stung her lungs while clasping her hands on top of her head, something that someone had told her to do after she ran. Something to do with breathing or circulation... She couldn't quite remember.

Allison caught sight of the new arrival. While she had been in a fairly bad mood lately, the run had done her good, and she decided they could do with a greeting. "Hey there, you new?"

[forgebyfire]

A sheen of snow was wiped away from Forge's forehead with the heel of a gloved hand as the blonde figure rounded the corner and decided he, apparently, looked like he needed companionship more than he needed to warm up. Forge slowed to a stop, slipping into a loose at-rest position despite the duffel over his right shoulder. "I am. Forge." He inclined his head and then after a moment of hesitation, held out his hand toward her.

[flowlikemagma]

Allison smiled at him, dropping an arm from atop her head to return the handshake. "Allison." Well, that felt a little odd. She managed to keep the surprise mostly off her face, then motioned toward the compound. "If you can, I'd stay out here for awhile."

She took in a deep breath, then let it out sharply, grinning. "The level of cabin fever in there is insane and it's catching." She stretched out her back, then dug in her coat, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and offering one to Forge. "Where are you coming here from?"

[forgebyfire]

If Forge noticed the small tells in Allison's face when she shook his hand, there was no sign of it in him; the shake began and ended naturally. His control with his right hand--and leg, for that matter--was perfect, but that wouldn't make it feel like flesh and bone to someone else. He might have been able to contrive some sort of sythetic coating but

[silverhypnosis]

*El hadn't seen anyone about her hip yet and was considering the fact that maybe Talia was right and she did need to get it checked out. As it were, her balance was off and the opposite leg to the one she'd fallen on ached from holding all her weight all the time. Momentarily side-tracked by a face she'd never seen before, El cursed loudly as she hit the ice. Hard. On her already bruised hip. She let out a low, long string of profanities and fought back the tears brought on by pain. She then blushed red when she remembered the man standing not too far away.*

[forgebyfire]

Forge's attention pulled from the door he'd been eyeing at the words that colored the air blue. There was no hesitation as he turned his course toward the young woman now on the ground. "Cursing won't make it feel better." He offered a gloved hand down to her. "Are you all right?"

[silverhypnosis]

*She took the offered hand, wincing as she stood.*

Twice. Twice in two days. I officially hate ice and snow and at the moment, all firearms.

*She pulled her gun out of its holster against her hip.*

Thank you.

*El kept as much weight off her leg as she could, knowing that putting it down was going to hurt.*

[forgebyfire]

"I think that you might want to use your energy coming to terms with the ice and snow instead of hating it." In another tone it might have been a joke, but Forge's face was still. He left his hand in hers as long as she may need the use of it. "You need to walk differently."

Forge didn't assume that just because she was here she knew how to handle the gun she pulled free, but as it was pointed nowhere but at the ground he didn't address it.

[bitter_sweet_t]

*Talia started her walk at the start of the complex, as she usually did most days since she had gotten here. Noticing a face she hadn't seen before. She decided that she should say hello and ask if he needed any help finding anything. Talia walked over to the brown hair man.*

Hi.

[forgebyfire]

Forge turned to the woman addressing him, breathing puffing out in a cloud as he answered. "Hello." At least the people here seemed friendly--even if none of them could ever be listed as harmless.

[bitter_sweet_t]

I'm Talia. *Talia thought about it for a moment and then held out her hand towards the new arrival. Hoping she wasn't being to forward. She smiled.*

Do you know where your meant to be going?

[forgebyfire]

Forge took her hand with a careful sort of precision--his grip was absolutely average except that perhaps, under the glove, his hand didn't quite give the way flesh and blood should have.

He hadn't shaken many hands since he'd lost his. Never this many in so little time. "Forge," he said. "And I should see Stryker."

[lightbulbtrix]

Bradley was having one of his "I sense a disturbance in the Force" moments. There was a surge of energy that had arrived, just like when Nori and more specifically her gauntlets had shown up. But this was different, somehow. Possibly the most complex technology he had ever felt. He left his room, trying to pinpoint the source. Chris resembled a bloodhound on the trail of a hare.

He wandered about for a bit, ending up in by Stryker's quarters. There was another new recruit standing there. Bradley was a little puzzled. He was definitely the source, but there didn't seem to be anything unusual about him. He reached out with his mind, trying to make the technology he felt respond to his thoughts. It was difficult interfacing with the system. He could barely get a hold of it, but one of Forge's fingers gave an involuntary twitch. No way. It was his limbs?

[forgebyfire]

The footsteps coming down the hall weren't enough to put Forge off knocking on Stryker's door, since military procedure was more or less idiot-proof with only few notible exceptions--this not being one of them. Debrief, then meet-and-greet. Forge raised his gloved hand to knock.

Halfway to the door his smallest finger jumped from the loose fist he had curled it into. Twitched upward. Fist frozen inches from the door, Forge stared at it. He flexed and recurled his entire hand. Saw the mechanisms spin out into the finite possibilities that made up its range of motion.

(Plating frictionless, no electrical crosses, joints stable, insulation holding...)

There was no hang-up in the mechanical energy anywhere, nothing that could be fixed or optimized. After taking a long few seconds to make sure of that, to make absolutely sure, Forge felt comfortable narrowing down his list of causes.

He turned dark eyes to the young man standing in the hallway with him. It was not his happy face.

[lightbulbtrix]

The man's face had darkened as he turned towards Bradley, and he was clearly upset. Ooops. Hacking into his robotic limbs may have been the wrong introduction to use, but how was Bradley supposed to know that's what was causing the source of energy?

Chris held up his hands in an apologetic gesture, his clearly British accent coming through a bit thicker than usual as he spoke. "Sorry. When I sensed a new form of technology enter the camp, I didn't realize it was coming from a person."

He approached Forge, holding out his hand for the other to shake. "I'm Bradley." Even so, he couldn't help but stare at the gloved hand, now completely fascinated. He had a million questions, but held them for fear of coming off rude.

[forgebyfire]

Forge's angry face (which some would say was actually not so different from his happy face, or his sad face, or...) had not been specifically directed at Bradley as a source of what had happened, but someone who might know. Seemed it would have been safe to assume the former, however.

Mouth loosening from its slight grimace and brow relaxing, Forge's gloved hand took the shake. It would be obvious then that the hand under the leather was not skin and bone, though it articulated perfectly in the grip--Forge did not offer to show it off. "Apology accepted. You sense technology?" He'd never met another mutant who had an ability anything like his own.