Post by Nightshade on Jun 10, 2017 16:19:52 GMT -8
It was dark when Nightshade decided to strike. Shane was fast asleep in his bed, so he could move without him intervening. The following days after he had unlocked his new powed had been excruciatingly difficult to get by. He wanted to explore his hyper mode's potential, but he really didn't know what to do or how. When he use the first time he was so mad everything had just been a blur of colors.
He had tried to train with it, but with very meager results. He could barely transform, and once he did the thing only looked like some sort of accessory thing rather than a power up. Another thing that bothered him was duration. He couldn't hold his "Daemon form" more than fifteen seconds.
After yet another failed attempt he was getting frustrated. He had tried to come up with a good reason to go back to Thrash and convince her to train him. He found none. He still wanted to understand his power, though.
The fight he had in the Garadi's mainframe. Trash had to have recorded it with all the thing she had access to. If he could get his hands on that, he could study how he moved thst time, emulate it and perhaps learn how to use his power. He could feel that a part of her had permanently attached to his own code. That what allowed him to access some of her powers and tramsform into a navi-daemon hybrid.
Next sunday, right at 1am he connected to the Thrash's unit again. He was able to sneak past all the defense program incredibly easy. It was like he wasn't there for them. He arrived at the archives and sneaked in, beginning to search for the recording.
Last Edit: Jul 7, 2017 0:18:45 GMT -8 by Nightshade
In his defense, Nightshade had actually made it quite far into the Argent Ivy Vineyard's systems without much trouble. Even given the standard security measures present in an industrial network, the Navi's entrance seemed to be almost completely undetected. None of the local Programs seemed to be able to detect him as he proceeded into a restricted area of the server, walking through a scanner gateway as if he was just a gust of wind. The problems started once Nightshade reached the security recordings storage drive - an area with significantly less network traffic, casting the cyberspace in a deep darkness in comparison to the bright, bustling main network. The floor beneath his feet has changed from the area-standard CyberRoad to what look like tinted glass tiles suspended in the void, and the archive interface lies in the center of the square, awaiting Nightshade's perusal...
...Except that was a good thirty seconds ago. He's been walking towards the terminal non-stop, and doesn't seem to be getting any closer. It's as if the damned thing is gradually creeping away from him at the same rate that he approaches it. Perhaps he's been walking on some sort of treadmill this whole time? That can't be right - the tiles beneath his clawed feet are completely stationary, though the view of the void on the other side is pretty spectacular. A purple-tinted galaxy lined with white stars, with a constellation of eight red suns casting a sinister glare from below...
Nightshade jumped when he heard a familiar voice he paled up and frantically looked around. Then, when he noticed the eight suns staring at him he quieted down his panicked shuffling and looked at them. Thrash wasn't in that place with him. Thrash WAS the place he was in.
Honestly, she should have known. He had seen her take on different shapes. There's explained the reason as to why he wasn't getting any close to that console. Thrash herself needed to make him arrvie and use said access point. And now, not only had he been caught, but he was also trapped in a place under Thrash's full control.
Nightshade's tail drooped, realizing what kind of concequences he would soon face. He had hoped to be in and out quick,but somehow he felt like his incredibly sneaky bravado had just been Thrash allowing him to play around her place. The small cat like navi sat down on the glass tile he was in and meekly stared at it and the void below.
"...just...delete me already." He spatted, not even trying to defend himself or anything. He had already given up.
>Tch... and here I was, hoping this attitude would've been trained out of you by now. We were off to such a good start, too...>
A sudden noise shakes Nightshade out of his reverie, a sound somewhere between steel penetrating wet wood and the frozen surface of a lake in winter cracking. All around him, jagged crystalline spikes almost as tall as him have burst from the tiles, surrounding him entirely. Clearly, if deletion was the Daemon's intent, the Navi would never have even made it THIS far...
<Your life is not in peril today. I remember when I was still young and playing with new toys, without a care in the world. I *would* like to know, however, just what it is that was so important to you that you would break into my home without bothering to ask for it.>
Post by Nightshade on Jun 23, 2017 17:16:17 GMT -8
Nightshade slumped. He was giving off an aura of sadness and resignation. "...you were always special, didn't you? You were created special."
He leaned his back onto the crystal spikes, looking up at the eight cores.
"You were made to be special. Everyone else here has some cool or fancy power. And then there is the stupid little Nightshade, which tries to get in the cool kids club and fails miserably each time. While you all were created for glory, I was nothing but a normal navy with a slight deviation to his personality.BAT that happened to recieve a bunch of visual customization. You all have your fancy things to fight with, I barely had some decent offensive abilities to begin with."
He quieted down for a few moments, wondering if he was really inside Thrash's body. Then, he pointed at the console. "That is why I came here for."
Standing up, the black cat walked to the middle of his cage. "I am nothing but a joke to everyone. I see them look at me and laugh. I see them play around with me, making me think I have a chance and then destroying me like nothing even though I am giving my all and more into my actions. And every time I try to make the difference, I can't simply do enough to even get noticed."
He punched the crystal bars, frustrated. "I am nothing but a joke and I hate it. Hell, even my full power isn't mine. My most powerful form is nothing but me using your powers for myself. And I can do that because you yourself allowed me to. If I didn't have bits of your code injected into me I would never be able to get to your kind of power level...let alone fight like I did last time."
In a flash of purple flames, his body changed into the hybrid Thrash had seen in action last time. "You know, I can feel the little parasite thing wiggling inside me, attaching itself to my source code when I change. If this part of you wasn't there, would I still have this power? Would it just disappear if you decided to not lend me your strength again?
He sighed and looked down at his claws, balling them up into fists. "I am tired of being nothing but a weakling. I want to be special too. If I learn to fight like you, other navis will stop thinking that I am worthless and show me respect. I wanna move like you. I wanna fight like you. I want to be as strong as you. I want to be special. If I become a Daemon too, people will finally notice me. The only way I will be taken seriously is to become a threat to them. You are the strongest I know. So if I learn to do what you do I will surely become powerful enough to teach them all a lesson!"
He placed a claw to his chest armor, where Thrash's data fragments had merged into his own code. "That is why I came here. I need to look at the recording of our fight and learn to move and fight like you. I know you are not really interested in training the little navi that couldn't... Yet you helped me so much I thought you'd...I...you know...I thought I could count on you. I thought, that maybe you weren't just playing with me like anyone else. I thought I could have some sort of navi to look up to...kinda like having a big sister that you always try to surpass...anyway scratch that, I just wanted to get a copy of the video of our last fight without bothering you. A quick in and out. That's...it."
Last Edit: Jun 24, 2017 3:49:37 GMT -8 by Nightshade
Several moments of eerie silence pass, both during and after Nightshade's rather long-winded tirade. At some point, he may have noticed that the floor tiles around and underneath him have outright vanished - the area he is standing in appears to have an invisible floor, a classical security trick in many Net areas. As such, only a scarce few remain: those which have sprouted spikes, which are now visibly connected by vein-like tendrils to a blobby mass that has risen from the invisible floor, its eight red eyes all locked upon the Navi... visibly bored?
<...Whew. No offense, boy, but I was starting to worry that you were never going to stop. I started spacing out somewhere around the bit about 'borrowed power' or something. Don't fret about it, your attention span will start to go too, when you hit my age.>
...Well, at least the Daemon is honest.
<So first of all - the answer is no. Unless this is an official requisition of security footage as evidence for a criminal case, I am not granting you any sort of access to our mainframe. It wouldn't help you, anyway - not with the attitude that you and your Operator have.>
The creature is not even bothering to assume a suitable form for interacting or engaging with its guest - just a shapeless blob, without even a mask to create the illusion of a face to talk to. Is this Thrash's equivalent to the 'cold shoulder', as it were?
<You and he both make a lot of half-baked assumptions about how things are, and then push on mindlessly without bothering to check if your version of reality is even remotely correct. It's quite off-putting, to be frank, and I've deleted Navis for less offensive behavior. A century and a half ago, your Operator would be face-down in the canals with a cleaner-tendril holding his head under for daring to pull a weapon on my masters. My restraint was born of years upon decades of learning and contemplation... the same will go for you.>
The crystal spikes now retract back into the floor, and the crystalline pseudoplasm promptly rejoins the rest of the Daemon's mass. Nightshade now stands upon a pure empty void, with no solid ground visible in any direction, his only point of reference being the blobby monstrosity that has quite literally settled in front of him.
<It was my intention to instruct and teach you from the very beginning - circumstances and idiocy have so far delayed me from getting that far, but I tire of meandering around the point. If you wish to become stronger, better than you are now, then I will oblige to the best of my ability. But the first step will be to pound these moronic notions out of your skull. For as much as you seem to think you understand these matters, you know nothing - whether that void can be filled, or if something will need to be squeezed out first, remains to be seen. When we are done, the least of what you will have learned...>
And now, the mass finally takes shape. Pulsating and undulating, the liquid form begins to stretch upwards, into a series of narrow tendrils resembling some sort of distorted stick-figure. The quivering mass begins to thicken, at first forming a series of interconnected bulging blobs, smoothing out into a semblance of muscle tone and structure... streams of saturated color begin to swirl and spiral out from the eight glowing cores that now take various positions withing the growing body, granting the creature a greenish-black hue that now forms around it like a shell. The extremities take shape - clawed fingers upon five-fingered hands, a slender multi-segmented tail ending in a series of interlocked spines, an all-too familiar helmet resembling the head of some feral beast... Nightshade now finds himself staring back at a mirror image of himself.
"...is that 'power' has very little to do with who or what you are."
The cat navi's head hung low just like how a kid would do when he gets scolded. His own tail drooped onto the floor as he listened to Thrash's harsh words. He released the unison and returned to his normal look, staring at his reflection that the Deamon created. He hopped close and curiously stared at her but avoiding her gaze. It was the first time he saw her change into another navi, as well as the first time seeing her take his own body for her shapeshifting abilities.
He stood in front of her, pondering her words. What she said was true. Shane always had the small thing to consider his ideas the gospel truth. Apparently, he had been slightly influenced by his behavior. Also, his daydreaming may have complicated things further.
With a long sigh he finally made eye contact with Nightshade-Thrash. "Well...I can't get any lower than this, so I can only go up from here...right? Just tell me what I should do. Also...forgive my intrusion...I won't try to sneak in again. It's just...I can't do it alone. I...I need you to help me, Thrash. You're the only one I know, well, friend wise. Thank you... for putting up with me and my stupid blabbing all the time. I am such a big dork, am I?"
The look he was giving her was...hopeful. Unlike Shane, Nightshade was genuinely willing to step onto his own beliefs in order to learn from Thrash. If it wasn't clear by now to the Daemon, the small navi saw her as some sort of parental figure, mostly given her age and immense experience, or like an idol...someone to look up to.
He silently promised to make her proud of him. He would show her he was not wasted time.
The real Nightshade shuffled around. The thought of learning from one of the strongest navis in the net was making his bad mood vanish. He would have loved to hug the Daemon, but restrained himself somehow from doing so. Better not push his luck too much. He hoped that the small bits of Thrash's data inside him didn't give the other Nightshade any clue to his thoughts or emotions.
Last Edit: Jun 25, 2017 7:20:48 GMT -8 by Nightshade
The mirror Nightshade raises an eyebrow, an emotive tic not present in Thrash's normally static face. On closer inspection, the imposter's body appears to be slightly transparent - enough that a light source behind it can be seen shining through its chest. The facade clearly has a few flaws to iron out...
"Heh. You would probably be horrified at the sort of person who qualified as my 'friends' back in my glory days. I wonder if any of them still live today, as I do... not that bastard Lynx's mongrel of a Navi, I would hope... jeez, how do you even walk around with such a compressed body? I don't think I've ever mimicked such a skinny Navi before... hrrrRRGH!"
And with a SPROING! not unlike a particularly thick rubber band snapping under strain, Nightshade finds himself faced with a most awkward sight; his duplicate's dimensions have suddenly burst outward a good thirty percent in cartoonish style, the excess mass forming a curvaceous hourglass figure with a considerable bust and hips that could derail a train if swung the wrong way. It's the What If? that he never knew how much he didn't want until now... and good lord, does that bodysuit not help matters. Those legs are so thick that they make the boots look painted on...
"...Better. This is why I prefer feminine forms, there's a lot more space to store excess mass. Let this be your first lesson - doppelganger techniques are a pain when you literally have to fit into someone else's skin. Same goes for trying out someone else's attacks, that's probably how you got that little parasite into your body. I didn't put it there."
Post by Nightshade on Jun 25, 2017 11:26:19 GMT -8
"D-duly...n-n-noted." Nightshade tried to keep a straight face, the mask helping greatly by concealing his blush, for the most part. He looked away, almost cared to look at what would be classified as a genderswapped version of himself. To be honest, Thrash didn't look that bad in his shoes. He could tell that feminine bodies were her forte, from the way she acted. Still...he wouldn't mind seeing her like that again. Maybe with a different set of colors, tho. Looking at something like that would be awkward in public.
"You...you don't look t-that bad...maybe just a little taller w-would do." he simply added at Thrash's retort on her new body.
His head lowered to his chest as she mentioned the reason of his Unison capabilities. "It's...not part of you? But then...if you didn't inject it into me...how am I able to use it without it...without side effects."
Last Edit: Jun 25, 2017 11:28:28 GMT -8 by Nightshade
The Daemon shrugs, adjusting its neck and posture to accommodate the new balance of weight. This used to be so much easier - the original GenKit was able to split Thrash's mass into MULTIPLE bodies, without having to use a compression code to squeeze it down into a skinny frame like this.
"Let's get one thing straight here - that little growth of yours likely IS the side-effect. My knowledge of the Cross System is limited, but if I'm not mistaken, a Navi capable of using such transformations uses a small trace of the imitated subject as reference data. By the looks of it, you obtained THAT from a combination of your transformation choosing me as its subject, as well as frequent use of the Chip I gave you. All of that residual data was bound to build up into something eventually."
In other words, Nightshade not flushing his data cache after his battles has resulted in a lesser duplicate of the Daemon's code forming within him. Kind of like a kidney stone, except malevolent in an entirely different way.
"Though it is forged from a copy of my data, what you have there is entirely yours - yours to dispose of, or to wield as a weapon. That is where your true measure as a fighter will begin to show itself - not in what you were built with, but how you develop and adapt to what circumstance gives you. I was not always as strong or as skilled as I am now - though I have lost a considerable amount of my former strength over the years. Even the best of us get rusty after neglecting training for too long..."
Post by Nightshade on Jun 25, 2017 14:25:42 GMT -8
Nightshade looked a little puzzled. So it was the overuse of Thrash's chip that led to that parasite being inside him. Still, the side effect of having bits of Thrash's code in him was more than welcome. It had helped him greatly. The small cat looked up at his "sister" and shook his head. "I am not going to get rid of it. In a way...its what connects me to you. I'll find a way to integrate it into my own coding so that my unison with you is more stable and I can actually use 100% of its potential."
Then his head jolted up slightly and a few moments later a digital key was being held out to her. "This...is the key to link with Shane's comp. I thought that...since I need to see you for you to teach me and you don't want me accessing your comp, this is a better way to handle things."
"Making assumptions again, as usual. A thought for today: Perhaps you would find yourself permitted to open more doors if you simply asked first."
Nightshade's doppelganger reaches out to examine the access key, which disappears in a flurry of pixelation upon its touch. A successful transfer, it would seem.
"By now, I'm sure you're aware why I would not need a key like this one - the same reason that you did not need one to come here. I appreciate the gesture nonetheless... you should exercise caution when using such a power. There are many who would misinterpret your intentions - or worse, fear you out of not understanding what you have done, or how you have done it. It is the way of the masses to fear those who are different, or more powerful in some way."
Nightshade nodded at his sister, or what could be defined as such by the looks of it. "I will make sure to use it when really necessary. The ability to bypass security scans sure is amazing. I guess...I have to thank you for that as well."
The small cat navi examined Thrash's form a little further, still intrigued by her amazing ability to change from a simple dragon/lizard like blob into something as complex as a female version of himself. He was no longer bothered by her look, his embarassment replaced by his usual curious demeanour. Not only that, but talking to something similar to him seemed to ease his nerves greatly. Even though he knew that wasn't how she really looked like...or sounded...that form somehow felt more natural to interact with. Mainly because she had a face and eyes to look at when talking. With Thrash's eight cores looking at him from different parts of her body he never knew were he should be looking when speaking.
"I suppose you never go out in public with your real body, right? Seeing a Daemon walking around would raise some questions."
He leaned to the right of her, examining her tail and comparing it to his. They were almost if not straight copies of eachother. Amazing. "What happens if you bump into the navi you are mimicking? Can you change the color of your..."costume" to look different? I mean, I wouldn't mind you using this form when you walk around the net with Minerva, but the people who met me would wonder why there is a female copy of Nightshade hanging around."
The small navi was showing great interest in Thrash's power, actually...he showed interest in Thrash in general. Since their first contact, the Daemon had always something mysterious about her that kept Nightshade glued to the being in hopes to find answers. And when he found them, more questions would always come up. A neverending cycle. It wasnt that bad though. Nightshade loved hanging around with the Daemon.
They all say Curiosity killed the cat. In Nightshade's case, curiosity was enough reason to visit Thrash again and again and again. She seemed to at least enjoy his company, despite him being annoying at times. He wasn't good with people and relations, but the small shy cat was trying his very best to make sure he didn't bother her too much. He would hope his efforts would also allow her to somewhat enjoy their chit chat.
Last Edit: Jun 26, 2017 1:19:45 GMT -8 by Nightshade
"You certainly have some interesting priorities. Though your reasoning is a little bit flawed..."
And in the blink of an eye, Thrash proceeds to directly demonstrate in response to Nightshade's query, taking on the bright whites and blues of the ONB Uniform he had donned on their last meeting. Nightshade's keen eye will likely notice a brief 'drop' of the facade - for a split second, the coloration of the Daemon's body completely drains away, exposing the translucent purple for a moment as the coloration of the mirror image shifts around.
"The fact of the matter is, nobody these days even knows what a 'Daemon' is, let alone that I could be one. I commend you for doing your homework and knowing that term in the first place, but there is a good deal that seems to have been left out of your education on the subject."
Nightshade chuckled. Somehow, speaking to a copy of himself was really amusing. A data cube popped into existance and was activated by the black cat. In a few seconds, Nightshade appereance shifted into his ONB on duty uniform as well. The navi circled around Thrash, eximining her disguise. "I must say, you really look good in my claws... I guess it wouldn't really be that bad if you use my body while you are around. Although you might need this if you plan to use my ONB attire. Without the XIFF code, anyone can tell its not actually me. Any ONB officer needs one." He offered another small bit of purple, highly encripted data at her. "If you wanna look like me, you have to make sure all the small details are in place, no?"
He let out a happy giggle when Thrash praised him. "Yeah...I...I made alot of research on you...m-mostly because I wanted to know you a l-little more..." he shyly added, hoping that the news wasn't going to upset her.
"Daemon Military Test Model, Zeta Variant #403 codename "Thrash". Only succesful Military Daemon model created by late W.Orochi and L.Cambrion. Lone survivor of the military daemon strain. Threat level of 485, deceased and destroyed by ONB forces. Daemon project discontinued.
Zv403 abilities include: Complete control over copyroid technology. Able to interface with battleroids with a synch rate of 99.9987%. Amorphous body, able to assume the shape of any navi it pleases by absorbing some of their code. Can create jagged spikes from the liquid Dark Matter anytime and how it wants. The eight cores work in unison, but may also separate into eight different entities altogether while keeping ZV403 identity intact as a whole. The file I read also said there were experimental non tested parasitic/body snatching/mind control upgrades."
He pointed at himself. "If a navi like me is implanted with one of your cores and some of your Dark Matter it turns into a puppet at your disposal. The cores forms tendrils that jack into a navi's bonemap and move them around against their will. Said thing is thought to inflict physical strain and pain on the host's body. If said tendrils reach the cerebrum program you can even mind control them, with the control over the body and mind becoming stronger the more cores are implanted into the target."
He made a small pause to remeber.
"And if an individual would be implanted with all eight cores it would basically mean that you're inhabiting their body. Also said hybrid would be extremely dangerous, as you would basically be able to access both yours and your host's powers as you please (something you cannot do with the simple mimick ability) or morph their body into some sort of demonic looking figure with immense fighting capabilites...if you are really able to do any of that. I am actually really curious to see how it would work. Especially the full possession thing."
Nightshade curiosity was having the best on him. He looked up at his mirror image, asking and implying the most stupid thing he could have ever asmed the Daemon to do. "What would happen if the host would be willingly submitting to the possession? I mean, moving a body that is trying to fight you will make it painful. But what if the host allows you to move him around? Would that cease to be possession and turn into fusion?"
Last Edit: Jun 26, 2017 14:46:03 GMT -8 by Nightshade