8673/The Warriors' Bland Acronym

The Warriors' Bland Acronym
Date of Scene:	06 August 2019
Location:	NYC
Synopsis:	Cypher meets Zeta.
Cast of Characters:	Zeta, Cypher

---

Zeta has posed:
    Clouds fill the New York sky, keeping the sun hidden, and the air cool. While traffic was a normal New Yorker day on the streets, in the park it was much more peaceful.

While the honks and the roar of engines could be heard faintly in the distance, in the park itself was the sound of birds, laughter, and just a general feel of ease.

    One man is enjoying the park. His green eyes watch as a jogger passes by, with his arms resting on his legs and his hands clasped. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt, jeans, and what looks like a pair of old hiking books. Beside the bench near his left leg was an old backpack.

The backpack had seen far better days, with a few tears at the fabric, but still managing to hold itself together with patches of duct tape here and there.

However his eyes move from observing the people to a bird in the tree who is singing happily. He tilts his head faintly before he whistles back to bird, almost perfectly mimicking its call.

Cypher has posed:
There is another jogger, with a hat pulled low over his face, in shorts and running shoes. He's exceptionally athletic, average height, but wide and stocky. But of particular note is his arm -- some sort of advanced prosthetic maybe, the type that have started to appear? Except his is black, threaded through with gold circuitry, with no obvious external articulation or assembly.

Zeta has posed:
    The young man, with his black hair and green eye's stops calling to the bird when he hears the sounds of another jogger coming.

His green eyes once more look over and seeming at first, not to interested. Only a faint flicker of light along edges of his pupils for the most perceptive might be caught. Taking in what little information is about this jogger approaching.

What causes Zeta pause however, is the odd Prosthetics. He raises a brow gently, a slight tilt of his head. He doesn't have any record of such a thing and while he was wandering a good year to learn better human behavior skills... Including trying to find, fruitlessly, anything on himself. He was not familiar with the technology.

    This caused a rather quick reaction from the hiding Synthoid, "Sir." It was only when those words escaped his lips, did he realize that may not be wise, "I--" He stopped, his eyes stared, before they looked away. "Urm," He had a long pause before he try to give a sheepish smile, as he continued, "No. Nevermind. Forgive my interruption."

Cypher has posed:
The young man pauses, and blinks. "No... it's fine." He furrows his brow. This being isn't human. That's a hologram, it's obvious -- at least to him it is. But this isn't a Sentinel either, at least not like one he's ever seen. He furrows his brow and then says, "I'm sorry. How can I help you?" He tracks Zeta's gaze to his arm, and he says, "...This?"

"It's a very interesting thing, not hiding this. You're curious about my arm?" He offers a handshake. "I'm Doug."

Zeta has posed:
    Zeta studies what he can see of the man's face. His own brows furrow a little, seeming unsure how to read the man. He looks to the extended hand and then smiles gently, "Zeta." He says in return before taking the man's hand for a firm shake, though he keeps his own pressure control to match that of any standard human.

"And I am, yes." He admits, sounding sheepish, as he studies the arm once more. "I don't think I've seen such before. Is it civilian or... military grade perhaps?" Though his eyes dart back to look at Doug once more. "If you don't mind me being so frank that is." Then rubs the back of his neck gently, before huffing the bangs from his face a bit that were trying to get in the way thanks to a passing breeze.

Cypher has posed:
"Unique." Doug says. He studies it, and then says, "It's a gift, from a friend." He flexes those fingers, black threaded with gold wire, and then he looks up, and says, "It's techno-organic, a synthesis of my DNA and a transformative alien virus. No one's in any danger."

Then he says, "...I can tell that you're a machine." His voice is quiet, "A sophisticated android projecting a hologram. Don't worry... I promise I won't tell. I'm a Mutant--" he says, "With the power to notice things like that."

Zeta has posed:
    "Techno-organic?" Zeta asks back seeming fascinated. He almost scoots closer, to the edge of the bench to look closer. Like a kid fascinated by a new toy or something of great interest.

That interest melts away as soon as Doug speaks quietly. When the man knows exactly what he is and how he is doing what he is doing, Zeta-- Freezes up. His eyes go wide with some air of fear and he very slowly leans back.

His green eyes lock onto him, he inches back as much as he can. Even though Doug explains that he is a mutant so its just how he knows, there was the look of still concern there. Concern, confusion, and distrust.

    Though for all his sign of fear and even while it echoes in his voice, he still respects the man and keeps his voice low, a near whisper. "... Mutant." He says back, trying to reel in his emotional feelings. ".. What... kind of mutant?"

Cypher has posed:
"I mean I'm an X-Gene positive Mutant." Doug says. "Spontaneous manifestation, when I was a teenager." He says, before he adds, "I'm a specialized hypercognate, possibly a meta-psionic, with superhuman abilities of pattern recognition and response." He says. "I can tell you're hiding. I understand."

He looks down, and says, "You can inspect it if you want. I don't mind." He holds his arm out, a sign of good faith.

Zeta has posed:
    The hidden Synthoid jaw seems to clench to one side gently, seeming unsure how to take the information given to him. Though his eyes do become drawn to the arm. His eyes look between the arm and him, then back to the arm.

While he still shows signs of being uneasy, he does sit forward a bit, though a tad slowly, almost ready to bolt if he needs to. "... Am I that obvious?" He asks simply, before looking at the arm. "I think... You are the first person to notice... but as you said. Your abilities are probably what aid in that process."

He doesn't extend out his hand to touch or do anything, instead he simply looks it over. Taking in every detail about the arm. "... Did it hurt?" He asks, looking back up at Doug. "... does it hurt?"

Cypher has posed:
"No. You're not obvious at all." Doug says. "It would take -- well -- me, to casually spot you." He says. "So don't worry." He sighs, and then says, "No. Not at all. I'm still trying to understand it, and all its capabilities." Doug says, black and gold fingers curling.

"Like a mystery I'm slowly unraveling. It can feel pain... but it doesn't hurt. It feels completely natural to me, already."

Zeta has posed:
    Zeta nods gently once, but it seems to be in acceptance to all the answers given. His eyes go back to researching the arm, trying to run different thermal checks against it and analyze it from different light spectrums.

"It must be frightening." He says in a casual tone. "To have an alien virus, technology arm fused with your body and not even fully know what it can do." Zeta sits back once more and looks directly at Doug once more. "At least, I would be afraid of it."

He then shakes his head softly. "... I guess I am a bit of a coward, so you are far more braver than I could be." He at last seems to relax around the young man. "I have faith in your words though. That you will not tell anyone." Zeta looks back to Doug. "Thank you."

Cypher has posed:
"It can be..." Doug says, "But -- I trust my friend." His fingers curl. It's not human flesh, that's for sure. Rather it seems to be an extremely adaptable techno-silicate structure, almost akin to nanotechnology currently in a fixed form with supporting infrastructure, seamlessly wired into Doug's nervous system and muscle structure.

He tilts his head at Zera, and then asks, plainly, "Zeta -- do you need help? I know people."

Zeta has posed:
    It is obvious the more Zeta continues to study, even when he looks away, he looks back to the arm. So tempted to touch it. So fascinated by its design. Maybe even a little envious? Hard to say what is going on in the head of the advance artificial being.

When Doug asks him if he needs help, Zeta gives Doug his full attention. His brows furrow gently in thought, before he glances off to the side. "While I want to say yes, I can not." He looks back to Doug. "I do not know why I came online nor do I know why I am here."

    At this point Zeta goes to stand up, reaching for his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. "I fear I would bring you and others in danger, and I do not wish to harm anyone. Even though that is my purpose. To kill." His last words said with disdain. Hatred for what he is built for.

While he stands over Doug, he then looks out over the park. Watching a few children play as they try to catch a ball, then keep it away from the other. "Maybe in time. I can come to trust you fully enough to accept that help, but for now. It is safer this way. I am sorry." He says this with sadness on his face and in his voice. His eyes moving away from the children as they play and then starts to turn away. "I should go now."

Cypher has posed:
Doug withdraws his arm, and then lets Zeta go. He watches him, and then says, "...Huh. Zeta."

He takes out his phone, and starts to run an app. "Zeta..." He says. "Sixth letter of the greek alphabet. Greek numeral representing 'seven'." He speaks into the phone, quietly. "Run stealth Warlockware hacking protocol. Search SHIELD, Stark-tech, Pentagon... and Trask Industries databases for an infiltrator android program, possible six or seven iterations. Other terms of interest, 'hologram' 'renegade' and 'rogue' and 'recapture' or 'destroy'. Coallate results for further investigation."