Description: Moondyne Mouse visits Steve the British Boxer in Mishima's secret lab for a bit of the old mind-bending ULTRAVIOLENCE.
The blue light shines down on Steve, who is currently clad only in a hospital gown and strapped down to a stretcher--rather well, one might add, for someone who is a fighter, it's a necessity. He'd been given a sedative many hours ago, which might only be a weak sedative in his bloodstream now--enough to let him wake up, but still leave him a bit out of it and groggy. There is the low humming of a strong climate control system and the buzz of flourescent lights overhead. It seems like a hospital...
But this Mishima Zaibatsu funded laboratory space is anything but. It looks like a boarding house for mad scientists. However a certain Boskonovitch is not around right now, for sure. Neither are any of the lab coated geeks that Heihachi hired. In fact, it seems he's alone right now, laying in a room cast in that blue, eerie light.
That is until the back of the gurney is raised up, a whirr of mechanical motors somewhere at the back of it pushing him up into a light reclining position.
"Mon dieu--look at you, such a... robust physique, and a badass, if I may," a blurry silhouette in front of Steve begins to become more opaque and defined, a white-furred face with reddish brown eyes, framed with light blue hair appearing out of it. It appears like something you might see just as you slip out of sleep, going from dreaming to waking rapidly--and it's also probably not the the kind of thing you want to see after waking up from being drugged.
"How're we doing there, our little blonde haired ubermensch," Moondyne waggles a hadn down toward him.
Steve's perception of time is gone.
The recent period had been a confusing mess. The few times he'd been awakened from his drug-fueled sleep, he'd have to fight all manner of opponents, and endure the subsequent analysis Boskonovitch and his scientits would perform on him and his peformance. He came out of most of his fights relatively unscathed, or with only minor injuries.
But now, he wakes up to a strange new scenario. The part where he's strapped to a bed is familiar, but the strange white-furred figure standing over him is anything but. He groggily moves his eyes to observe his surroundings, before letting them rest on the Mouse. A slight expression of surprise and unnerve forms. "Whatever you want... get it over with." He says, slowly. Not responding to Moondyne's eerily carefree remarks.
"I don't want anything," Moondyne tilts her head a little, one large conical ear cocked to the side. She instead lifts up a small carton of what looks to be orange juice, the spout already pulled open. She's wearing her armor, so the bedside manner here is a little disjointed. But it's not like she needed to remove it to make herself appear in other things.
"Studies show that humans need H20 and vitamins a bit more than solid food to live, so," she said in a clinical, almost casual tone, holding the open spout of the small hand-sized carton of orange juice to his lips.
"Did you see him?" she asks next, those reddish-brown eyes settling on the muscled blonde-haired man's green eyes.
"The old man, that is."
The boxer glances down at the carton. The thirst wins out over his suspicion, and he drinks- slowly. Enjoying the first thing with an actual taste he's ingested in a while. "Whatever you have to do, then." he responds, with bitter expression.
"Which old man? If you mean that Heihachi bastard, yes. If you mean that creepy old doctor, also yes." He sighs, staring at Moondyne's inhuman conical ears. He doesn't recognize her specifically, but the animalistic features does make him ask a question of his own. "Are you another darkstalker?" He bluntly asks.
"Doctor," Moondyne nods her head, the word coming out in two syllables, like 'dok-tor'. It made the word much more imperious and important than it might have been.
"I see," she keeps feeding him the orange juice until it looks like he's done, before pulling back the carton and setting it aside on a table that likely was meant to hold surgical tools. An ivory nailed finger reaches up to brush a little drop of it that might have leaked down his chin, with Moondyne having to stand on the tips of her boots to reach over that far. She was very short, as Steve could no doubt see, even from his position.
"No," Moondyne replies to his question, shaking her head with a grin. "I'm one of Dr. B's grandchildren, so to speak," ignoring the tools that might have set out, a small hole opens on the round cylindrical capsule that her tail ends in, a fiberoptic light extending from it, which she briefly uses to check Steve's eyes, using her fingers to gently tug down his lower lids, as if she's doing a checkup.
"And how are we feeling, then? the sugar in the juice should make you feel better," the mouse seems to have some sort of technical expertise... but it's hard to tell /what/.
Steve slightly whinces as she scoops up a drop of juice from his chin, unclear whether it comes from fear or disgust. "Grandchildren?" He says in a groggy tone. He looks genuinely confused. "You don't look like family of his." The sedation still has his mind working slowly.
Steve's lips tense up in discomfort as the light is shined in his eyes. Steve asks "A light.. from your tail?" The brit looks down at said tail, trying to comprehend what's happening. His mind starts to grow a little clearer with each second, likely due to the sugar. Steve sighs again, saying "I do feel a bit better. Still tied up though." He wiggles the tiny bit he can manage under the tight restraints.
"The relation is distant," Moondyne nods a little, before her tail light winks out, raising a brow. "I was checking your pupil dilation response," the mouse lady explains, the tiny but powerful fiberoptic light disappears back into the tail and the end whirrs closed, the pod sealing itself back up.
"Well, not much I can do about that part, at the moment anyway," Moondyne tilts her head toward him, watching him. "Besides, you get to enjoy a relaxation period on this nice bed on wheels they provided for you here," she raps her furred knuckles against the side of it, producing a muffled tapping.
"Heihachi will probably do something to the doctor if I do, and there's no telling what that might be--he's quite criminally insane, you know," she grins.
"No kidding. Bloody nutjob."
"Yes. I really enjoy this bed. It's lovely." Steve says with bitterly sarcastic tone as he watches the light /whirr/ back in the tail. "I'm Steve Fox. Who are you?" He asks simply "I imagine you aren't here just to feed me orange juice." He looks down into her reddish brown eyes.
"Well, it's better than people trying to shoot at you," Moondyne matter-of-factly states, before gesturing to herself. "I am Moondyne Mouse, I was created by a team of scientists that studied under Boskonovitch, it would appear your current handlers have a grip on him," Moondyne adjusts the visor over her face, flipping it up to reveal her reddish-brown eyes without the red tint of the bullet-proof material.
"I was hired by Mishima to help them with some... technology, I work for NESTS, you see," she adds after a beat of silence, "Not entirely consentually, you see, but some parts of the job are far, far worse than others," she trails her small, long-nailed hands over the boxer's abs through the hospital gown, looking as if she enjoys that a fair bit.
"Fair point." Steve responds. "Created?" At this point, Steve would tilt his head. But the restrains tragically leave him unable too. "A little bit like me then." Steve smiles darkly.
He looks a little uncomfortable as her nails run over his chest "Not consensually? Does that apply to Boskonovitch as well? How strange.." the boxer glances away from Moondyne, seemingly in thought.
"Created, lambchop--as in, not organic," Moondyne creates a little solid holographic block beneath her feet, which raises her up a good foot or so, using it as a stepladder. To Steve it probably looks like she just floats up. "You know, a robot," Moondyne grins and rolls her eyes, as if this is pretty obvious. It's kind of not, but she still has a sense of humor despite being a 'beep boop' robot.
"Correct, none of us are really here by our own choice, y'know," she removes her hand from his chest, idly buffing her nails on the side of his hospital gown, exhaling warm air onto them.
"It's obvious the big man doesn't want you for your stunning mind over there," she reaches over and cups his chin with her hand, like an aunt might do to a child, gently squishing his lips in a funny way.
"But I'm going to try to help, see," Moondyne uses the cupped chin to help direct Steve towards her face, the mouse's eyes peering into his as she leans over him.
"Mice are your friend, you see--just relax," she shushes him, adding a bit of her French accent which might be sexy, if it not for the absurd creep-factor of the current situation.
"That's right..." the world and the mouse's face would take on a sort of neon purple hue as beams were directed from Moondyne's eyes into the man's, the mental probe is... well, strange, to be fair, but likely not entirely unpleasant...
"Wow. I had no idea a robot could be this lifelike" Steve says, with a measure of surprise in his voice. "And give me a break here. I've been drugged for the last few... days? Everything is working a little slowly." He says, unsure of how long he's been down here." As Moondyne takes his chin, the Boxer again looks nervous at what's to come, staring into her eyes "W-What are you- Purple light fills his eyes. He doesn't entirely resist, keeping Heihachi's threats in mind. But as his expression would make clear, he feels startled and unnerved by the process.
"Oooh, there we go--I like a guy that doesn't struggle," goddamn Moondyne, that's definitely a Morrigan sort of thing to say--but the mouse isn't looking for the man's soul thankfully, however she does have something a bit different in mind.
The process was... invasive, to say the least--at least Steve wouldn't really feel any discomfort--it just felt like a sudden weight against one's head, that then relaxed. The brainwave scanning and manipulation hardware and protocols afforded by the Hitbit and V-Gage tech allowed her to literally mind-dive--though she wasn't staying long. The purple beams of light into Steve's eyes and head soon weakened as Moondyne drew back, having climbed up ontop of the stretcher ontop of Steve, straddling his waist.
"Ooh... how are we down there, mon ami, are we still lucid?" she was patting his cheek, tilting her head this way and that after apparently 'finishing'.
As the light fades, Steve rapidly blinks a few times, confused as to what just happened. He then notices that she's sitting on his waist. "What the hell- What was that? What did you do to me?" There's a panicked edge to his voice. He continues "I'm- I'm feeling fine. Thanks for asking?" The last part is said with slight hesitation.
The brit feels himself getting a little short of breath, and peers at Moondyne. "Then, could you get off? All that metal is weighing down rather heavily." He remarks in a tongue-in-cheek manner.
"Aw, what? Are you robophobic?" Moondyne snickers as she dismounts from Steve, putting one of her sneaker-booted feet down on one of the blocks she used as a stepladder to climb up there in the first place. "I'm not /that/ heavy, least probably not as heavy as some of the special forces ladies, eww," the mouse bot rolled her eyes as she huffed, hopping down from the stretcher and the blocks, which then dissapate, clearing the way.
"Who's ready for some breakfast, huh? Perhaps we'll a chip butty or three," Moondyne cackles a little, and is she... letting a bit of British accent slip into her voice, rather than French? Uh oh.
The wheels of the stretcher begin to squeak as Steve is rolled out of the lab area, for the moment...
Log created on 14:13:57 06/08/2020 by Moondyne, and last modified on 17:12:00 06/09/2020.