Post by Gail Belrose on Jan 13, 2016 19:16:09 GMT -5
((Please note that anything within <<…>> is Gail speaking in French. No clue whether or not this affects your character’s ability to understand it.))
A distinctive clacking of mechanical keys echoed across the modern décor of the corner office a coffee-fueled code monkey bashed away on her keyboard with reckless abandon. It’s a mech. It can take it. This day, like so many others, Gail was neck deep in a pile of code that only she could hope to understand. Yesterday she had made a mistake. She had solved a bug without commenting her code. If you’ve ever written code, you know exactly how many problems that causes when a different module calling the same function is broken as a result.
For those of you who don’t know what she was going through, just picture this scenario. Imagine that you are a plumber. Your job is a rather simple one, as you are employed by the city to keep the mains working. About 360 days a year, you have no problems. One of those rare days comes to pass that you actually have to fix something. You rush out to the scene, drop some C4 into the pipe, blow it up, and slam a new one in its place. After that, a road crew immediately repaves the area.
Just like that, all is well in our fictional plumber’s world. Except the part where that plumber never wrote down where the break was, and the next day they realize that there were other pipes on every side of it, and they used explosives for some reason. They have no clue where to even look, but they know that everyone is pretty damn broken. That was what Gail was going through. There were lines and lines of code, all calling functions she had named things like “stupidFuckingBug” and “reallyNeedCoffee.” Unethical devs would call this job security. She called it self-inflicted misery. There was no one to blame for this but herself, and she knew it. She was the sole dev on this project after all.
Right as she thought she was getting close to a solution, her office phone rang. <<”I thought I unplugged that…”>> Spoiler alert: she had unplugged it a month ago. <<”Never a good sign when technology breaks its own rules.”>> Begrudgingly, she hit Windows + D to minimize everything on both of her screens. Chances were, if the phone was ringing like that, the person making it ring could probably see her screen as well. Never hurts to avoid showing off sloppy code.
”Gail here. How’d you get it to do that? It’s definitely not plugged in.” Despite her genuine interest in the “how” this call was happening, the voice on the other end completely ignored her question. ”New orders rookie. We’ve got a motion capture studio set up in the gym. Another member is going to be stopping by today. Get some data on human against human combat. Use it to expand your program.” Needless to say, Gail was baffled. Until today, she honestly didn’t even think anyone really even knew she worked here, aside from whatever person was monitoring whether or not she was a Fullbringer yet.
It took her a few minutes to parse through everything, but she had plenty of time given that the person who had called her had also hung up immediately after they finished speaking. Now Gail was no soldier, so she wasn’t a fan of being ordered around, but she knew Xcution did have a military arm. Unsurprisingly, her not-so-gentle man caller had decided he could just order her around. She could totally disobey him if she wanted, but disobeying people who thought they ran the world was generally a bad idea. With absolutely no zeal for the task ahead, she polished off her coffee, binned it, and headed over to the stairs down to the gym.
Thankfully she kept a decent workout outfit at the office… but wait a tick, why was she the one who had to do this? Yeah, it was her research, but she wasn’t supposed to be a fighter. She was hired to be a programmer, right? Surely they could have gotten a second actual fighter for this purpose… unless they wanted data on her specifically. Of course that was it. She’d been with Xcution for nearly a whole year, and hadn’t magically obtained superpowers, so they were forcing a combat evaluation. Lovely. Ah well, she had already mentally committed. A good spar was probably a necessary break from staring at that code anyway.
After a quick trip down the stairs she popped into the locker room to get changed. A few moments later, she emerged into the repurposed space wearing a golden pair of booty shorts, a black sports bra, and a grayish-brown hoodie. The hoodie would get ditched once a warm-up was over, and the data capture was underway, as would her sneakers. Kicking someone in the face with shoes on was just rude. If nothing else, at least the outfit she had down here wasn’t going to have much on it to get in the way of good mocap data. Gail may be a code monkey for her day job, but she was also a decent martial artist, and quite a bit stronger and faster than most people gave her credit for.
All that was left was to figure out who she was supposed to be fighting.
A distinctive clacking of mechanical keys echoed across the modern décor of the corner office a coffee-fueled code monkey bashed away on her keyboard with reckless abandon. It’s a mech. It can take it. This day, like so many others, Gail was neck deep in a pile of code that only she could hope to understand. Yesterday she had made a mistake. She had solved a bug without commenting her code. If you’ve ever written code, you know exactly how many problems that causes when a different module calling the same function is broken as a result.
For those of you who don’t know what she was going through, just picture this scenario. Imagine that you are a plumber. Your job is a rather simple one, as you are employed by the city to keep the mains working. About 360 days a year, you have no problems. One of those rare days comes to pass that you actually have to fix something. You rush out to the scene, drop some C4 into the pipe, blow it up, and slam a new one in its place. After that, a road crew immediately repaves the area.
Just like that, all is well in our fictional plumber’s world. Except the part where that plumber never wrote down where the break was, and the next day they realize that there were other pipes on every side of it, and they used explosives for some reason. They have no clue where to even look, but they know that everyone is pretty damn broken. That was what Gail was going through. There were lines and lines of code, all calling functions she had named things like “stupidFuckingBug” and “reallyNeedCoffee.” Unethical devs would call this job security. She called it self-inflicted misery. There was no one to blame for this but herself, and she knew it. She was the sole dev on this project after all.
Right as she thought she was getting close to a solution, her office phone rang. <<”I thought I unplugged that…”>> Spoiler alert: she had unplugged it a month ago. <<”Never a good sign when technology breaks its own rules.”>> Begrudgingly, she hit Windows + D to minimize everything on both of her screens. Chances were, if the phone was ringing like that, the person making it ring could probably see her screen as well. Never hurts to avoid showing off sloppy code.
”Gail here. How’d you get it to do that? It’s definitely not plugged in.” Despite her genuine interest in the “how” this call was happening, the voice on the other end completely ignored her question. ”New orders rookie. We’ve got a motion capture studio set up in the gym. Another member is going to be stopping by today. Get some data on human against human combat. Use it to expand your program.” Needless to say, Gail was baffled. Until today, she honestly didn’t even think anyone really even knew she worked here, aside from whatever person was monitoring whether or not she was a Fullbringer yet.
It took her a few minutes to parse through everything, but she had plenty of time given that the person who had called her had also hung up immediately after they finished speaking. Now Gail was no soldier, so she wasn’t a fan of being ordered around, but she knew Xcution did have a military arm. Unsurprisingly, her not-so-gentle man caller had decided he could just order her around. She could totally disobey him if she wanted, but disobeying people who thought they ran the world was generally a bad idea. With absolutely no zeal for the task ahead, she polished off her coffee, binned it, and headed over to the stairs down to the gym.
Thankfully she kept a decent workout outfit at the office… but wait a tick, why was she the one who had to do this? Yeah, it was her research, but she wasn’t supposed to be a fighter. She was hired to be a programmer, right? Surely they could have gotten a second actual fighter for this purpose… unless they wanted data on her specifically. Of course that was it. She’d been with Xcution for nearly a whole year, and hadn’t magically obtained superpowers, so they were forcing a combat evaluation. Lovely. Ah well, she had already mentally committed. A good spar was probably a necessary break from staring at that code anyway.
After a quick trip down the stairs she popped into the locker room to get changed. A few moments later, she emerged into the repurposed space wearing a golden pair of booty shorts, a black sports bra, and a grayish-brown hoodie. The hoodie would get ditched once a warm-up was over, and the data capture was underway, as would her sneakers. Kicking someone in the face with shoes on was just rude. If nothing else, at least the outfit she had down here wasn’t going to have much on it to get in the way of good mocap data. Gail may be a code monkey for her day job, but she was also a decent martial artist, and quite a bit stronger and faster than most people gave her credit for.
All that was left was to figure out who she was supposed to be fighting.
{Outfit Reference}
{Stats and Skills}
Stats Strength - [80(160)] Points Speed - [80(120)] Points Spiritual Pressure - [10(5)] Points Reiatsu Strength - [10(5)] Points Light Aura - [50] Points Dark Aura - [50] Points Instinct - [95] Points Senses - [75] Points Energy sensory - [0] Points Healing Expertise - [0] Points Total SP: [350] Points | Skills
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