Log:Test Your Metal, Scene 6

Test Your Metal 2016/11/08 Daemon Grimm 6

Daemon smirks. Grimm's not wrong afterall. There's something admirable about this scrawny string bean of a boy taking on the mystically empowered Professor Mysterion.

"You'll be happy to know, Mysterion is still being held on a number of concurrent, and..." Daemon says, taking a drink mid-sentence. "... and consecutive life-sentences. So he's not going anywhere any time soon.

Records look like someone- who isn't really clear from these files... anyways- someone even depowered him. How ever that works with 'magic'." He looks to Grimm as he flips through the final records on Redbird.

"So that's who he stopped?" Grimm murmurs more to herself as she reads Professor Mysterion's real name. She knows the cliffnotes version Malcolm told her, but there's details being filled in that make her realize the parallels in their experiences with magic. It brings a bit of color to her cheeks.

"Good on him for stopping that guy," she mutters, saving the photo of Mal as a kid, just as a keepsake. "But I don't think Professor Mysterion knew anything about the Blue Sovereign. Not sure Mal does, either, really. Hope that SOB is rotting in Stronghold for taking kids hostage..." she growls quietly. Just more proof that most magic users can't be trusted.

Daemon smirks. Grimm's not wrong afterall. There's something admirable about this scrawny string bean of a boy taking on the mystically empowered Professor Mysterion.

"You'll be happy to know, Mysterion is still being held on a number of concurrent, and..." Daemon says, taking a drink mid-sentence. "... and consecutive life-sentences. So he's not going anywhere any time soon.

Records look like someone- who isn't really clear from these files... anyways- someone even depowered him. How ever that works with 'magic'." He looks to Grimm as he flips through the final records on Redbird.

Grimm seems satisfied to hear of Professor Mysterion's fate. "Serves him right," she grunts darkly. She runs her finger along the edge of her empty glass, thinking on his comment for a moment.

"It's possible in some cases. Like if he was depending on a book, or a magical artifact. Or maybe they had to gag him so he can't make incantations. Or maybe another magic user did something to him." She shrugs a little. "I'm a bit curious...what -was- he trying to do with that ritual? I mean...was it his intention to gain power? Get to the other plane, but Malcolm got sent instead? Just...trying to think of any connection he might have to all that. Could've just been dumb luck."

"That'd be just great. 'Case solved, Cause? Coincidence'." Daemon says drolly as he pours another shot. This one he slides away from both he and Grimm for some reason. "I don't think it'd be impossible to get Doctor Crawfeld transferred to a more accomodating location- temporarily of course. But you could ask him all that yourself. I sure as hell don't know the answers to any of that.

Otherwise, our only other lead of note- is a cold case."

He attempts to flag down a waitress as he waits for Grimm's answer.

Grimm rubs her chin thoughtfully at Daemon's suggestion. Her lips purse as she considers that option. "Where'd you say he was being held at, again?" Maybe he didn't say, and she's just prompting him to find out.

"Doesn't say. I'm sure for his own protection. A Depowered Villain? Ripe for revenge. Some people couldn't help themselves- they'd probably ruin their lives for the chance or in the act." Daemon Says, "But he's still in the system so he's not out of reach- not for me anyway." Daemon says surely.

Grimm drums her fingers in thought as she wrestles with the demon and the angel on each shoulder. Or is that Daemon on her shoulder? "Hmm...I...dunno. Yet. I can't keep taking the law into my own hands if I want to be a detective someday."

The angel on her shoulder must be played by Malcolm if she's that reluctant.

"Who said anything about... ok. Plan B." Daemon says, "We just falsify who we are. I'm sure I can get us credentials into Rikers as... 'Advanced Criminal Rehabilitation Specialists'."

The waitress finally arrives with another round for Grimm and Daemon. He barely notices her, but she saw him sipping directly out of the bottle she brought him previously. When she reaches to clear up the lone (and full) shot glass on the table, Daemon waves her away. She shuffles off to get Daemon another shot glass instead- but she doesn't say anything considering the mood hanging in the air and the hushed whispers Daemon and Grimm are speaking in.

"You can even wear a disguise." He adds grinning.

"But you were -thinking- it," Gabrielle says pointedly as she slides her new drink closer and cups the cold glass with both hands. "What was Plan A, then?" she asks with a raised brow as he rattles off Plan B.

She smirks a little about the disguise. "Oh, goody," she says before sipping her drink.

"You teleport us in and we scare the shit out of the good Professor of course." Daemon says as he slides his jack and coke in front of him and pushes what's left of his bottle to the side.

"That's what I thought. Maybe that'd be easier. We could still use disguises," Gabrielle comments after a few more sips of her drink. The Angel Malcolm on her shoulder looks utterly dismayed at her laziness.

That's right! Angel Malcolm would use a much more complicated plan that would be much more susceptible to horrible failure! Shame on Grimm for contemplating the route of least resistance and fewest moving parts!

"That's my girl." Daemon says proudly as he continues fabricating the background details usually only created over a lifetime of normal consumer-style living. "Not just easier, but it's going to far more gratifying too."

Daemon flashes a smile as his mask drifts into place just around his mouth- stopping exactly at the line where his lips meet. It almost seems more like a second skin than a mask.

Grimm throws back her whole drink in one go. She's going to need it if they're doing this. "Although the easier way would probably be to just pry in his dark little mind to find out his secrets. But...scaring him would be fun, too." She definitely wouldn't mind visiting the good Professor with a little payback.

"But...we can't tell Malcolm. Ever. You got that?"

"Who are you talking to?" Daemon asks snidely. "You might be Mistress of Shadows- but I'm the Master of Lies, Black Guard of Secrets & Dragon-Slayer." He smiles- his mask following his grin in a very disconcerting way. He's probably quite aware of this.

Changing the subject back to the plan, he adds "You can scare the piss out of him, then flay his mind about. You'll see, it'll be a fun night out- well in, I guess."

"You really need to stay away from the drugs," Grimm reminds him on the Dragon-Slayer title. Her eyes get drawn to his odd mask for a moment. "We'll...see. Just make sure all the security cameras are down."

"I'm telling you- I killed a dragon for elves!" Daemon says definitively. He can tell Grimm's never gonna believe him, and of course it was darker than hell- so even his memories digitized wouldn't do the job.

Daemon saves his work of Doctor Damon Gates & his Assistant Goldimere Felbough. Two identities specializing in Super-Villian Rehabilitation could come in handy a few hundred different ways.

After that, the begins researching the security systems used at DOJ ran MaxSec prisons.

Simultaneously he places an order for a requisition for specialized medicine that was mysteriously just proscribed by DOJ Medical Personnel. He hopes that the shipment's documentation will point the way to the Doctor Crawfeld.

Grimm smirks as he tries to defend himself. "Oh, so you work for the elves now? That's pretty low. I didn't realize times were so rough. Having to work with those stuck up Fae is rough." She feels the nice, tingly buzz of her drink at work and decides maybe it's time to switch to water. "I'm sure you did it all by your lonesome, too."

"Well you're right about that- and if I'd have known it would have spilled out into all of that? I'd have let that little punk Mind-Melding Micky have his way with that Professor. But the cases crossed- and I got stuck riding shotgun on a dragon-hunt." Daemon shrugs, he is well past buzzed and doesn't trust himself not to let things grow too loud while defending his adventure.

He nods as the waitress returns with his shotglass and pours another shot. Perhaps water might be better, but his hyperadapted nanocyte laced system should have him pretty sober in under 10 minutes if he willed it so. 30 if he didn't. One of the worst parts about his resurrection- somehow it takes four times as much sauce to do the job these days.

"If it was just me, I'd have let the dragon sleep. Or eat. Whatever. I'm not magic." He sits back and crosses his arms in front of him as he looks at Grimm as if what he just said was pertenent.

Grimm's eyes widen as she realize maybe he's not hallucinating. "Wait...you guys...murdered...a dragon? Why?" she asks as she sits up, shocked at the prospect. "That's...you killed a sentient being..."

"Well- ok... maybe we didn't slay it per say... but it sounds better than 'knocked the fuck out and did some... I dunno... 'magical metastasis' subdividing the hunger for magic between all dragons and shunting through Harlequin's unborn Goddess daughter'... and I'm paying per letter for these cards." Daemon says backtracking as his right auntlet shits a bit.

As he finishes his sentence one of his business cards pops out of the gauntlet- black letters freshly scorched into the 'cardstock' plastic.

He slides it across the table Grimm. This version says:

Daemon

Private Detective, Rabbi/Registered Priest, Security Consultant & Dragon Ass-Kicker & Magical Metastasis Subdividing Consultant specializing in Time-Slipped Deities

Grimm leans over and pulls the card closer. Her mouth moves as she reads the card silently. "Rabbi?" she asks with a perked eyebrow, as if that's the only thing that seems off to her.

Daemon merely shrugs. "People gladly let clergymen into places they wouldn't let anywhere else."

Grimm smirks and shakes her head as she hands the card back. "Who would mistake you for a Rabbi or Priest?" she teases her friend.

Daemon chuckles, "What can I say, I clean up nice. That and having the ability to quote from any book I've ever read omes in handy- espeically when it only took me less than .25 of a second to read either the Torah or the Bible. Poor bastards had no idea what hit them."

After deciding they could both use a chance to blow off some steam (and burn off some alcohol), Daemon pays the tab and the Devious Duo depart- into the dark of the night.

Our hero, ZeroCool- err... Daemon & his stalwart bestie wander for many blocks trading barbs and suddenly touching stories dotting their separate histories- shared only in the strictest confidence.

Suddenly, Daemon's stride slows a second.

"So I've found a few... 'adjustment' parameters in my nanites. And I was... ugh... hoping you might help me test out some cerebral changes I made."

Grimm slips her hands into her leather jacket's pockets and glances aside to Daemon with a raised eyebrow as her pace slows to match his. "Cerebral changes? Wait, are you hacking your own brain?" she says with a sudden excited grin as she turns to face him, because she never thought she'd get to actually say something like that.

"Hahah, sure. What did you have in mind?"

Daemon nods with a smirk. "Yup- I hate having people fuck with my brain, so I did some reading on the latest in Psi-Shielding and neuroplasty." He explains, "A few seizures later- I had a working Aug. I duplicated some of my suits original functions- but now my round-trip synapse-circuit time is decreased by over 55 picoseconds." He has clearly been nerding out over this for a while.

Realizing this himself, his face gets a bit more serious. More sober. Which was kind of the point of this stroll.

"ANother whammy. Well- maybe not a home run swing, not right out the gate. I was thinking something mor systematic- we're looking to find the exact point of failure. So I can know the limits of what I've built so far."

He's definitely thought this through, though it really is jsut hacking isnt'? Perhaps Daemon isn't just a computer hacker now, perhaps he's a bio-hacker too.

Grimm looks a little less excited at the mention of seizure, her brows knitting in concern. "Okay, that sounds way less cool and much more dangerous than I thought. What if you broke your brain and no one could help you?" Like that would stop him. And she doesn't want to dwell too much on killing his nerding out moment.

She rolls her jaw a little at the talk of systematic points of failure. "So, you want me to put you through the ringer and see what I can do?" she contemplates for a moment.

Daemon sighs.

"I heal- faster than before. Way faster. And I set a revert subroutine that resets every 2hrs without my conscious intervention unless another subroutine supercedes it for sleepmode. Then an engram is matched live to pre-modification engrams. Its perfectly... well mostly perfectly safe. I had to develop a couple of open-source programs to do the live mind mapping like I needed. But you gotta crack a few eggs to make an omelette."

"That's the idea. Start slow. Whatever you want. My 'Firewal.. Psi-rewall- that's good. It should be able to stand up to most attacks up front. I hope."

He runs a quickk diagnostic to make sure the newly dubbed Psirewall is active and ready.