2014.02.23 - Doing The Robot

Finesse has had one goal on her mind for a while now, and somehow, despite her best of efforts she has failed to meet it. Finesse, true to form, did not consider it her own failure so much as Taskmaster's superb ability to hide from those after his trail. Tonight she has a new lead, she knows that next to one of the buildings in Hell's Kitchen there's an information broker for the underworld. She's intend to hack into his system and see if she can find something.

Clad in her self made superhero style costume, she sneaks in the darkness, navigating the shadows as best she can before settling into an alleyway. While surprisingly unsophisticated, she erects something of a cardboard fort cover, signifying her position as a dirty home of a hobo, and she hopes that'll do to keep her actions private. After all, nobody dares to approach the homeless, nobody wants to help and nobody cares. Once settled, she sits down Indian style, and sets her laptop in her lap, starting it up as her fingers start to stroke away some magic.

The young lad known to some as 157 (and to others as the presumed forerunner of a forthcoming alien invasion) has been hanging about Hell's Kitchen for a while now, seated on a rooftop across the way from that very location. He's noted more than a little criminal activity in the area, and some quiet wormhole-spying revealed that someone in the region is in the business of buying and selling information for criminals. 157 is in the business of gathering information. He's also in the business of observing the movements of security forces, aka police or superheroes. Tracking down the broker could serve either purpose, and he hasn't prioritized one or the other yet. For now, he's just been observing the area through one of his scrying portals, keeping an eye on various parts of the area and seeing who comes and goes.

It's almost by chance that he notices the supposed hobo-home. There's a dim light of the laptop screen coming from the cardboard box, and that's just barely unusual enough to qualify as something to look at for a moment. Jeanne might notice a faint shimmering of light on the wall across from her, and a barely audible hum, for just a few moments. Then, those go away.

"Priority observation target detected: superhero. Proceeding with investigation of activities," 157 says quietly, to no one in particular. He speaks rapidly--alien words, numbers, mathematics--and there's a flash and a sucking sound as a portal forms on the roof...and one alley over from the hero. A few moments further after that, the young boy walks into the alleyway Finesse has taken up residence in, looking expressionlessly at the box and its resident.

"Who goes there?" Finesse asks when she spots shimmering lights, one hand steadies her laptop while her other reaches for the hilt of the katana extending over her back, ready to draw if the need arises. "You really don't want to try your lucky with me...whoever you are," she warns quietly, and then the light disappear. Only for a moment later to hear the very faint approach of someone outside her cardboard residence, "state your name and purpose!" She calls out, perhaps not the most likely choice of words, but then she's unique.

"Query: State your name and purpose. Answer: Unit identification Yeweseisisel. Current language usage: English. English translation: One-Hundred and Fifty-Seven. This one will also respond to variants. Examples: One-Hundred Fifty Seven. One-Five-Seven. Hundred-Fifty-Seven. This one will also respond to identifications 'kid', 'kiddo', 'young man', 'sweetie','hun', 'Alan', 'Yewy', and 'buddy'. This one is an observation and information retrieval unit created by access denied. This one was sent by access denied to planet designated 'Earth' to observe." Well, she did ask. The young voice speaks slowly and evenly, in monotone, and the boy at the end of the alley starts to walk forward, towards the box.

"That's a mouthful," Finesse comments as she curiously reaches to slide one wall of her cardboard fort just a little for a glimpse at the would-be robot. At least that's what she gathers from the speech pattern. "Is that your marker in a line of production?" Finesse follows, before asking, "would you designate self a sentient machine?" Finesse keeps curious eyes set on 157 from behind her black domino mask. "Have you any access ports? Do you conform to wireless transmission protocols?"

"Query: Is that your marker in a line of production? Answer: Unknown. This one has no data regarding this one's creation. Query: Would you designate self a sentient machine? Answer: Negative. This one is a sentient organism. Query: Have you any access ports? Answer: Negative. Query: Do you conform to wireless transmission protocols? Answer: Negative." One by one, the questions get answered as the boy gets closer. Finally, he stops, still several steps back. "Information required: This one observes that subject is utilizing portable computer 'laptop' while seated in cardboard box in alleyway. Provide identifier and information regarding goals and present activities." A long pause. "Please."

"Interesting, you certainly don't present yourself as one...query: does one follow a preset prime directive?" Finesse tilts her head, figuring by now that the would-be organic not attack her without due cause. Leaning back against the wall once 157 comes close enough to stand in-front of the opening to the cardboard fort, Finesse whispers, "is it not self evident? I am in the process of fishing for information, much like you are, unfortunately...it seems I have no method to study you in depth without violence and I am not interested in doing that." A moment later she quips, "though I would love to see what your x-ray looks like."

"Query: Does one follow a preset prime directive? Answer: Affirmative. This one's primary directive is observation of species 'human' on planet 'Earth'. This one is to gather information on all aspects of human species relevant to mission of access denied. Statement: I would love to see what your x-ray looks like. Analysis: X-Ray is medical technology utilized to show skeletal structure of organism. High probability that this one's x-ray would appear identical to human male of equivalent age. High probability this one is human." 157 looks down at the laptop. "Analysis: Subject is utilizing wireless communications technology and laptop computer to attempt to bypass security and access files on target machine. Activity designated 'hacking'. Request: Allow this one to observe." Another long pause. "Please."

"Query: is your point of origin extra-terrestrial?" Finesse now wonders if perhaps it's some organic machine made by some advance alien species. "An organic fabrication to host a programmed yet sentient mind...or processor, either way, you are fascinating 157." Finesse nods as 157 accurate describes what she is currently in the process of doing, adding softly, "and I'd love to hack you to see what purpose hides behind access denied. This could be a threat," she notes, before pressing the question, "are you familiar with the art of hacking? Or would this be your first instance of recording the activity?" She has her doubts on whether she should help this organism learn anything he might utilize against her species.

"Query: Is your point of origin extra-terrestrial? Answer: Unknown. This one has no data regarding this one's creation. This one traveled to planet 'Earth' from other planet. However, if this one is human, moderate probability this one originated on Earth." 157 moves over to stand next to the side of her box, looking down at the laptop. "Query: Are you familiar with the art of hacking? Or would this be your first instance of recording the activity? Answer: This one is familiar with hacking. However, this one has not witnessed hacking since arrival on Earth. Confirmation required: High probability subject is searching for information held by local criminal subject of type 'information broker'."

With that Finesse slams her laptop shut and gets up, scattering the cardboards everywhere as she walks hurriedly along the wall while slinking the laptop into a bag slung over her shoulder. "I think I shouldn't be here," Finesse comments as she gets on-top of a bicycle that were hidden under a tarp, and starts paddling away quickly. Her current hypothesis is that the more harmful utility 157 learns, the worse it is for Earth.