Unseen by ScorchMan, a slight grin flickered across his patron's expression as the view screen came up; her eyebrows arched and she tilted her head a little, taking in the view.
“Hellloooo Sailor...” Her tongue played briefly over the tip of one of her small, pointed teeth before she caught herself. A short giggle escaped her before Prose cleared her throat softly, though she was still grinning.
“Ah... ahem... aaaanyway... I've been doing a quick reconstruction...” she made a gesture with one hand, moving fingertips to the centre of her chest before casting them out in a circle that threw slim blue tracers and wire-frames over the surrounding space; a red dot marked as the Myriad virus ScorchMan had fought moved thought the fight swiftly, before crawling away to burrow into the ground near her feet, as it had before. She looked up to him, thinking, then traced her fingertips through the air in front of her again, subtly changing the reconstruction. “I'm guessing if Mr. February there is your eyes, then you can't see normally like that? I can change this up if you use something else... If you can read the data space, I can do it in ray trace... or... Infra-red? Straight up therm-optic? What d'you need?” If ScorchMan had a preference, that worked, the bunny girl was quick to reconfigure her reconstruction to one he could read, but else-wise it was still easy enough for Griffin to make sense of and relay. She stood back, looking at the spot where the virus had vanished again then back to ScorchMan with hand on her hip and her head tilted.
“We can talk about how we're going to take care of this in a minute... First, I need you to fill me in. What actually happened, because, you know, these things don't come up to the normal nets on their own. So come on... What were you really doing?” She swayed back and forth with a playful smirk and a teasing cadence to her question. “Like I said, you're not in trouble, and I don't work for the GNA or any of the post net-war factions or anything like that. I'm not even really supposed to spend a lot of time around individual net navigators directly, but this needs cleaning up... and I've got holiday deliveries to get to soon enough, so the quicker we sort it out, the better.” She folded her arms, awaiting an answer, but despite the seriousness of the words, she still seemed upbeat and friendly – there wasn't any hint of recrimination or threat in her questioning, just curiosity, it seemed.
Around them the recovered network went on unperturbed and peaceful; a warm breeze whistling through the nearby fields, tall structures in the distance, glittering slightly in the sun, and a clear sky overhead; it was vaguely at odds with ScorchMan's way of seeing things – and thus the extreme readings the woman's small form was displaying – not actual heat, but simply density of code and volume of raw energy circling within. Prose bounced on her toes, letting her hands slip behind her back instead.
posted in Electown Net •
“Hellloooo Sailor...” Her tongue played briefly over the tip of one of her small, pointed teeth before she caught herself. A short giggle escaped her before Prose cleared her throat softly, though she was still grinning.
“Ah... ahem... aaaanyway... I've been doing a quick reconstruction...” she made a gesture with one hand, moving fingertips to the centre of her chest before casting them out in a circle that threw slim blue tracers and wire-frames over the surrounding space; a red dot marked as the Myriad virus ScorchMan had fought moved thought the fight swiftly, before crawling away to burrow into the ground near her feet, as it had before. She looked up to him, thinking, then traced her fingertips through the air in front of her again, subtly changing the reconstruction. “I'm guessing if Mr. February there is your eyes, then you can't see normally like that? I can change this up if you use something else... If you can read the data space, I can do it in ray trace... or... Infra-red? Straight up therm-optic? What d'you need?” If ScorchMan had a preference, that worked, the bunny girl was quick to reconfigure her reconstruction to one he could read, but else-wise it was still easy enough for Griffin to make sense of and relay. She stood back, looking at the spot where the virus had vanished again then back to ScorchMan with hand on her hip and her head tilted.
“We can talk about how we're going to take care of this in a minute... First, I need you to fill me in. What actually happened, because, you know, these things don't come up to the normal nets on their own. So come on... What were you really doing?” She swayed back and forth with a playful smirk and a teasing cadence to her question. “Like I said, you're not in trouble, and I don't work for the GNA or any of the post net-war factions or anything like that. I'm not even really supposed to spend a lot of time around individual net navigators directly, but this needs cleaning up... and I've got holiday deliveries to get to soon enough, so the quicker we sort it out, the better.” She folded her arms, awaiting an answer, but despite the seriousness of the words, she still seemed upbeat and friendly – there wasn't any hint of recrimination or threat in her questioning, just curiosity, it seemed.
Around them the recovered network went on unperturbed and peaceful; a warm breeze whistling through the nearby fields, tall structures in the distance, glittering slightly in the sun, and a clear sky overhead; it was vaguely at odds with ScorchMan's way of seeing things – and thus the extreme readings the woman's small form was displaying – not actual heat, but simply density of code and volume of raw energy circling within. Prose bounced on her toes, letting her hands slip behind her back instead.