2015-09-01 The Gold Standard
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
Players: Drake, Mariah
GMed by Drake
Title: The Gold Standard

[* X-Mansion: Danger Room *]

The 'Danger Room' is one big round dome of a room, easily the size of three football fields at least. Its all shining silver metal and when not in use it has rings of spotlights that circle about the round dome ceiling. Its kept at a cool temperature at all times and only authorized personnel are allowed in this room, let alone know how to even use the technology here.
The control room window can be found off to the easternn side of the room and can be hidden behind fading-glass to be completely unseeable from within the chamber. It has a small access hatch that blends perfectly into the rest of the room's domed ceiling. The main entrance is a big round metal hatch and is located to the western side of the room.
The technology here is the latest in holo-lense projection and is a video gamer's dream come true. Its can project any programmed enviroment and interact with the users in the room. This is where the most intense combat training occurs within Xavier's School.

Obvious exits: (or check 'rose' for directions)
<O > - Sub-Basement Corridor

This evening is a special evening; one long overdue. One of the mansion's newer arrivals has yet to be examined, and likely due to a questionable mental state. But it's been decided that, if she's to stay, they need a base reading on what she's capable of. So begins the rare treat that every new mutant on campus must endure: the powers testing.

Mariah will have received a notification, informing her that her presence is required for testing in the restricted area of the mansion. She's told to meet another staff member at the elevator at a certain time - an older, stately male with spectacles. He keeps chatter at a minimum and gives fairly vague answers, but will be forthcoming in the sense of where they're going (a "testing room") and who'll be administering it (Drake). Once they reach the security corridor, the older male gestures her into the main chamber while he diverts into what, judging from a glimpse, may appear to be a control deck.

Inside the main chamber, Drake stands casually in the center of the floor. Arms are folded behind his neck, body taut, and wearing something probably too casual for what Mariah may be expecting. Nothing is active in this room - it simply looks like an extremely technological dome.

"-Now- we're getting somewhere," Mariah states with a tone of approval, hands on her hips as she looks around the setting, wandering in at her leisure. She stands for a moment to crane her neck around and look at the ceiling, trying to figure out what this is and what goes on in such an odd looking room. She's never seen anything like it.

Drake's presence brings a big smile to her face. "Ohhh, you gonna be my teacher today?" she asks playfully. "Well. I'll try to be a good girl."

"Somethin' like that. Hi, Vixen." Her 'instructor' winks, then relocates his hands to prop at his hips. "What we're gonna do today is get an idea of your powers. Don't worry about toppling the economy - nothing you do here will have a lasting effect. That said, if you get hurt, that… that sticks with you. 'Kay?" His head tips back, gaze cast up to the control deck window. "Mister Todd, give us something to work with!" His eyes set again to Mariah with a bright smile.

Following a couple seconds, a few panels in the floor slide apart. Platforms raise from the gaps - three in total. One carries a football. Another, a heap of metal nuts and bolts. The last, the modest stone bust of William Shakespeare.

"Yeah, can't do anything with the football," Mariah says straight off, approaching the stand and looking at it. "Let's see… I had a decent dinner, so, I think I'm all right." She looks back up at Drake. "'Vixen' eh? I like Fox, but… I think I'll let it slide for now." She grins. "So what do you want me to do, Drake? See how much I can change?"

Drake glances to the football, then back to the window meaningfully. Back to Mariah, he shrugs a shoulder at her. "'Fox' is your last name already. Kind'a cheating. But you catch on quick. I wanna see what you're capable of. Do what you can, but /don't/ hurt yourself. No over-doing it."

Mariah nods. She puts her hand on the football and holds it for a moment. "Next to nothing in the way of iron in this. It's safe." She then goes to the bust, placing her hand on that. "… A little more, but it would take a lot of time to try to feel out enough iron to make it change." Lastly, the bowl of metal nuts and bolts.

Mariah sticks her hand into the bowl and there's a faint crackle and a visible change, as the darker gray-black starts to turn gold from contact with Mariah out. In seconds the entire bowl is pure gold. "Ta dah~," she announces.

Drake moves forward to the pile of newly-transmuted gold and leans over, inspecting it. "So it's /iron/ that has to be turned," he surmises. "If you had enough time and energy, /could/ you turn the football?" He isn't going to make her try it, if it's going to strain her to the point of injury. But that information is pertinent.

"It depends on the iron content," Mariah states. "There has to be enough iron that I can -feel- it. -Grab- it, sort of, with my mind. With something inside me." She looks up at Drake, "What I'm gonna do? Don't worry about it, okay? I am not hurt anyone and it won't be bad."

Mariah reaches into her pocket and takes out a very small pocket knife - swiss army style - and unfolds the corkscrew. She gets closer to the table, and then uses the pointed tip of the corkscrew to prick her finger.

"Watch," she says, holding up the finger, blood forming a round bead on the tip - and then the bead stops, and becomes a small golden pearl.

Drake watches patiently, trusting Mariah to carry out her demonstration. When it becomes clear what she's about to do, he wants to protest - but it comes a little too late. She pricks her finger, and he exhales a little sigh.

When she forms a perfect gold bead from it, however, he makes a little 'ooh' sound. "So you're grabbing onto the iron content in blood, huh?"

"That's how I escaped the coca plantation," Mariah says, nodding yes in agreement. "The guard got sloppy, tried to grab for me. I cut him with my fingernails, and then just held the cut. Every drop of blood in his body turned to gold."

"You, ah… mentioned that. Yeah. We're trying to get to the limits of your powers and how they really work." Drake brushes a hand over the back of his neck, not wanting to dwell on what he /knows/ is a sensitive subject. "So. Can you control the density? Toughness? Shape of the object once you turn it gold?"

"I never tried before," Mariah says. "I tried -not- to use my power, so… I never tried to make it better, or tried to control it," she says, looking at the little gold bead on her fingertip.

It's stuck there.

"… I never tried to turn my own blood to gold until just now.:"

"Can you… make it liquidy?," asks Drake. This, being his first time conducting these tests, is a little hard to control. The rest of the faculty make it look easy, but hearing that this is the first time she's turned her own blood has set off a few alarms. "I'd rather you work with the materials presented here. The cogs, screws, and whatever."

"Hold on… I'm feeling something here, Drake," Mariah interjects, holding up a hand, looking at the gold bead on her finger. "… I'm in this. /I'm in this gold/."
Drake glances up at the window as she says this, then back to Mariah. "Explore that," is all he says before taking a step back.

Reaching over gingerly, Mariah places her free hand into the bowl of now altered bolts and nuts. She closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths, trying to 'feel' the gold.

"… madre de dios…." she whispers. "I… I always just grabbed the iron inside by feeling it, and then changed it, then I gave it up but… I can still feel myself in the gold. All of this gold, that I just changed. It's … the gold is -me-."

A thought occurs. "Hey," says Drake. Should Mariah look at him, she'll find his attention is directed to the control deck. "Give us some gold."

Shortly after, another panel slides away in the floor. A pedestal raises, offering up none other than the small gold idol from Indiana Jones. Har, har.

"Touch that. See how it feels to you. Are you in /that/, too?," he asks, trying to play it straight, despite the comedic value of what's been presented them.

Mariah takes her hand out of the bowl (the one that doesn't have the gold bead stuck to it like an expensive scab) and walks over to the gold sculpture. She puts her hand on it, and closes her eyes.

A moment later, she shakes her head and lets go. "Nope. I'm not in that. It's like it's dead."

"So it's only gold that you, yourself make," concludes Drake. "Let's go back to the ones you do feel connected to. Do you feel like you can do anything with it? Explore your connection."

With a nod, Mariah returns to putting both hands in the gold she made. "Okay. I never noticed I could feel myself in this gold before!" she states with a bit of excitement. This is all new, and Drake's been the gatekeeper to a life and possibilities she never knew existed.

She takes a deep breath, exhaling sharply through her nose, drawing all her focus into the gold nuts and bolts. She starts to stir the gold with her fingers, and as she does so, more and more of it is coming off and sticking to her hands; the gold softens and melts and begins to move of its own accord, creeping up Mariah's arms, until she looks as if she's wearing gold gloves.

She holds up her hands and laughs softly, wiggling her fingers. "Now -that's- fancy."

Drake props his hands to his hips again, watching with a keen interest. He's not drawing attention to it, but sensors are getting a boatload of information on her and her powers. It's a /goldmine/.

Get it? Anyone?

When her hands lift, there's a stab of anxiety before she laughs, just as quickly easing it back down. She's in control. She's not about to be enveloped in suffocating metal. "Looks snazzy. Can ya harden it?"

"I think so." Mariah extends her right arm out, away from Drake, and the metal rolls back off her arms to her fingers, where they extend out into sharp, solid points. Well, as solid as pure gold can be, anyways. It's not the hardest of metals.

"Mister Todd," says Drake, this time without taking his eyes off of Mariah.

The four pedestals lower into the floor again, and the panels slide back into place. Another, larger panel slides out, and what is clearly a humanoid dummy is lifted before her. It bears a goofy, happy smile, and despite the level of technology in this room, it looks very much like a scarecrow.

"Try it out. Give it a whack."

"You know that gold is soft, right? You can bend it with your hands," Mariah points out, looking between Drake and the newly emerged dummy. "I don't even know if I can pierce with this," she says, uncertain what to think. She looks back at it. "… I'll try…"

Drake patiently lets the girl lecture him, all the while wearing an expectant look on his face. When she says she'll try, he puts on a peppy smile. "That's all we're askin'."

Mariah walks over to the dummy, and gives the the gold spikes a thrust towards the dummy. It tears slightly, but the gold spikes warp, bend and blunt. It's about as useful as trying to poke a hole in burlap with a twig. She chuckles as she looks at the bent gold, smoothing it back out to points without touching it. "Told you," she sing-songs, laughing softly.

Drake joins in the soft laughter. "Right. Okay. So can you firm it up any further? Try to do that and give it another shot." He cants his head. "Really try to make it solid."

Now that's something she hadn't thought of. Mariah concentrates on keeping the gold under control, holding its molecular structure in her -mind- instead of shaping and releasing. She tries once more, drawing back her arm, and then stabs at the dummy again. As the gold deforms she slips molecules back into place, keeping the gold fluid and using her mind to enforce the shape despite the ductile properties of the metal. The claws pierce like a hot knife through butter.

Mariah pulls her hand back out, rather shocked. No smart quips now! A bead of sweat rolls down her forehead.

"Thaaaat's my girl," whispers Drake under his breath in approval.

Once her sparkly claws pull free, the stabbed dummy lowers into the floor panels again. "Nice. Let's try something else. Can you spread the gold over yourself and harden it? Maybe make a shield out of it?" He then inclines his head. "And if you need to stop, speak up. The goal here isn't to get you hurt."

"I'll have to spread it really thin, but… it feels like I can shape it if I think about the shape I want it to be," Mariah explains. She pulls the gold spikes back onto her hand and then continues to coat herself with the gold, layering it thinner and finer until she's wearing a suit of it up to her neck under her clothing. The gold-plated areas exposed to light are brilliantly reflective - mirror finish.

"Go for it," says Drake to the window up above.

The panel slides again, and this time what is unmistakably a robotic turret emerges. The articulated joints angle the nozzle-barrel of a gun on Mariah, and without any further warning, opens fire. A bright red burst of light issues from the muzzle, and a matching globular mass flies at Mariah, aimed to strike her dead in the chest. The impact will be real - not physical, but forceful. Fortunately, it's kept at a low yield. Even if the 'armor' she's made is worthless, the worst it will do is bruise her.

Well, that was unexpected.

Mariah is like a deer in the headlights and gets smacked headlong by the mass as she tries to turn quickly away from it, getting caught in the side and knocked off her feet. She shouts something vulgar in Spanish, and rubs her side, but doesn't complain about being shot at. In fact - she's a little proud of it. They seem to think she's worth testing, and it reinforces her tattered sense of self-worth.

"Hold fire," says Drake. He takes a couple steps forward and places his hands on his knees, hunching. "Y'okay? How's that armoring holding up?" Despite having her shot at, he's smiling at her. Getting shot at in the Danger Room is /nothing/ new.

Mariah coughs. "Armor?! I wasn't trying to make it armor!" she protests, laughing weakly. "That's some dirty pool miho," she admonishes as she gets back onto her feet. She peels back some of the gold away from her hand to wipe another rivulet of sweat from her brow. "Hold on, I need something to eat." She reaches for her pocket, hoping one of those restaurant honey packets is unsquashed inside.

Drake tilts his head slightly as she picks herself up and scrounges in her pockets for snacks. Unfortunately, the Danger Room will not be able to make food for her. What is this, the Holodeck? "Uh… we don't want to push you too far. If you need to stop, we'll stop. We've already got a mountain of data…"

"I feel like there's more I can find with this, but yeah, maybe taking a break isn't so bad. It costs me life to change iron into gold, but I can get it back if I eat." She pulls out a plastic pack of honey. Ah ha! Not popped. Good, that'd be messy. "I don't know why I didn't think about that before. It's costing me life because my life is going into the iron to make it gold."

"But you… get life back if you eat. Not if you turn the gold back into iron?" Drake pauses a moment and peers at her. "/Can/ you turn it back into iron?"

"I don't know," Mariah says with a shrug of her shoulders. "Usually I was too busy trying to turn gold into /money/." She tears open the packet of honey and sucks out the contents.

Drake screws up his expression and glances away. "Eeyeah. Dammit, can we get this girl a Gogurt or something?"

Naturally, the heavens are silent.

"Another time, we can see if you can do it in reverse. 'Kay? I think we're wrapped up for today."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License