Caio's probably right (ugh) about trying to thread the needle between the fantastical and the mundane. There's no point having access to everything the nanoforge can do and trying to downplay or ignore it until you can throw a proper roundhouse kick on command, but at the same time it'd just be embarrassing to get caught out and decked in the face because you neglected basic self-defence. You need to- well you have no idea what you really need to do but your best guess is that you have to keep that in mind from the ground up. The nanoforge can basically do anything you ask it to, as far as you've seen - the trick is not wasting its time and resources. You're kinda glad Caio bugged you to try and form tentacles now that you think about it. It gave you a sense that the forge has limits, even if only a glimpse, and it's given you the dose of reality this'll need.
"Uhm... okay," you say. "I want- I mean I had this... dunno if it'd..."
Oh god it sounds so stupid the second it's ready to leave your mouth. You cringe and cut yourself off, the unfinished thought hanging awkwardly in the air. Instinctive flashes of embarrassment and regret go off in your head like hazard lights, warning you not to look like an idiot in front of the AI. The silence stretches on.
"Take your time."
Easy for it to say. You lie there squinting at the ceiling, waiting and hoping the feeling will pass, but the nanoforge says nothing else. Granted it's a lot easier to believe that you're not testing someone's patience when said someone is a machine and could comfortably do absolutely nothing for a week if asked. You're not sure how long the silence lasts, but after a while you start to feel alone with your thoughts again. You drum your hands against your chest and sigh.
"Okay. I've been thinking about what the others said - Caio more, probably - and what you said. I want to do things that are... not just 'flashy' I guess, but more than just having you support me while I throw my hands around, you know? An all-range support type, with something I can do no matter the situation, like..." you pause momentarily, brightening as you realise the example you need "like that blade we made! The one that was kind of like one of Paragon's feathers. He can turn into cape into dozens of them and do his best cluster artillery impression but I'm not like, expecting anything like that. But the way it moved when I fired it and it flew back to me is giving me some ideas. You were saying something else about electromagnetic fields before I cut you off?"
"Correct. If you wish to manipulate objects without touching them, construction of electromagnetic field generators and bio-electric power cells to facilitate this is possible."
"What about other kinds of... projectile?" you ask haltingly, racking your brain to find the right words for your thoughts before you stumble and crash again. "You know like fire, lightning, ice, the classics, could you reproduce those with your tech?"
"Unknown. I will perform some internal diagnostics and simulations to investigate the possibility. Is there anything else?"
You don't think there is, but as you part your lips to form the words one more idea springs to the forefront of your mind. You remember the heartstopping moments you spent locked in combat with the same kind of drone that killed you, fists uselessly flailing just to delay it before the nanoforge finally gave you the target you needed to take it out for good. It feels like the thought should trigger you, but when has the human mind ever made sense? It's sort of like grabbing something you expect to be much heavier, lurching off-balance as you fight to correct. You move on rather than dwell.
"This nanotechnology you use isn't exactly unique, right?"
"Unclear. It is likely beyond conventional human technology, but you are correct in assuming that there are similarities between my abilities and the Predator-class scouting construct. Even our ability to combine with another platform to the benefit of both in some aspects. Of course the control core of a Predator-class would be far too simplistic to perform the functions that I do. They are mass-production models with only enough processing power and creativity to hunt and kill."
You blink. You sit up and steady yourself on your hands. "Do you have something in your programming about them? You seem-"
The Nanoforge avatar appears again, hovering a short distance from your face as if sitting just opposite you. "I was not programmed with unnecessary information," the it repeats. "Therefore, any knowledge that is not somehow related to medicine could not exist in my memory banks prior to implantation. This information must have been retrieved during scanning."
"Rrright. That's what I wanted to talk about," you say. "If it's not unique, and we might have to fight something like that again in the future, we should have a countermeasure or something. Could you, I don't know, hack nanomachines to bring them under your control instead? Add it to what you have to work with already?"
"Electronic warfare is well beyond my purview."
"Ah." Your face falls and you feel pretty stupid. It's- okay it's a machine and it keeps saying it doesn't have feelings to hurt but it's still not awesome to make assumptions no matter how gently you're let down. But still the thought niggles at you as you sit there, chewing your lip, and all of a sudden you lift your gaze to the orb of light again. "But what about other nanomachine-based enemies we might run into? If they're actively built for combat the way you aren't, couldn't they try to hack you? What about something- or hell someone else tech-y enough, could you do anything to stop them if they tried?"
The nanoforge is silent for a short time, coruscating thoughtfully. It's only silent for a few seconds but that could be a lifetime for a machine. "I had not considered the possibility. You are correct, the risk exceeds reasonable doubt. I will look into the matter."
"Oh!" You blink, eyes flicking around the room as if searching for some sign that you're being lured into a trap. "Uh... thanks, glad I could help."
"Allowing you to bring a potential vulnerability to my attention is not worthy of thanks. Regardless, I have sidetracked the conversation. Returning to the initial topic: do you desire any changes to the armour? The current design was selected for speed and efficiency, you are under no obligation to keep it unchanged."
"Oh, uh..." You sit forward and cross your legs, blowing air through your cheeks. "That's kind of an even bigger question, haha. And one I'm definitely not gonna be able to answer right off the bat. I mean if I'm being serious about having a superhero outfit I need to at least do some concept sketches, right?" You pause, and rise to your feet with a sigh. "Ugh, which means I need some paper and pencils. Time to go stationary shopping for once."
"Unnecessary. If you require the means to work visually, they will be provided for you."
You blink in surprise as a screen opens up before you in augmented reality, displaying what looks like some kind of advanced design concepting software you might use to quickly draw up plans or add notes for an engineering project. Not exactly Photoshop, but then again you think the subscription fee is up to 30 bucks a month by now so it's probably for the best it's not Photoshop. A carbon-black stylus just seems to materialise in your hand, and as you experimentally prod at the screen that doesn't actually exist in the real world you're shocked to find you can touch it all the same. It resists your gloved hand as if it were really there, and a stroke of the stylus reveals that you can touch it with that too. Intellectually you know that such manipulations of perception are probably pretty easy for the nanoforge given you're covered in it from neck to toe, but in the moment it still feels like magic. You even smile.
"I should... probably leave this 'til later," you say haltingly, casting a self-conscious glance at the doorway. "So I'm not hanging around their headquarters like a weirdo."
"Is it not also your headquarters now?" the nanoforge asks, avatar orb swinging around to rest at the edge of your peripheral vision as if also looking out the door.
"Yeah jury's still out on that." You give a shrug and a sigh, ruffling your hair in a vain attempt to comb it out a bit. It's kind of on the long side. You don't get too many haircuts but it's starting to edge up against the limit of what will look stupid on you. "(Now where do I, uh-)" the stylus disintigrates in your hand and flows back into the suit, the screen before you winking out "(-cool thanks). Alright, I guess that's everything?"
"Incorrect," the nanoforge replies, swinging around in front of you and blocking the way out. "The food at your disposal is unsatisfactory. You should acquire more at your earliest convenience - I have prepared a list of suggestions and a dietary plan for the future."
It produces another AR window, detailing the dietary changes it wants to make and a full breakdown of your nutritional requirements. It is very detailed, and when you glance at the scroll bar to the right edge you see that the box at the top is so very, very small. You swipe up once, sending the screen scrolling down, and the box barely moves. You let out an aggrieved sigh. This is gonna be an adjustment.
Not much is open in the wake of an attack, so there's precious little opportunity to actually go grocery shopping despite the nanoforge's insistance. Thankfully the nanoforge also remembers exactly what was in your fridge when you last checked it, and by suggesting meals incorporating those you're able to narrow down your options and pick something with the least amount of missing parts. You go via Masoud's place just in case he's looking for an update, but by the time you get there it's his disinterested brother-in-law behind the counter. He doesn't even notice your gloves at the counter, just rings up your order and lets you go without comment. You sort of shrug to yourself and get going.
The weather keeps up its holding pattern as you trudge home, plastic bag slung over your shoulder. The sky is the same cloudy iron grey, but the faint barely-there drizzle slowly peppering your jacket with a fine dusting of droplets never intensifies beyond that. You look up at the squat grey brick of your building as it slowly draws closer and you think about just how much more normal things seemed the last time you took this walk. Granted you were deep in shock at the time but it kind of counts. In the span of just under a day you've gone from some nobody doing backbreaking work that made you feel like a vaguely misanthropic zombie to... well still a nobody but a nobody on the cusp of something strange and new and terrifying and just a little exciting. It's hard for you to hope about things, but this? This is getting close. You walk a little bit taller as you head inside and take the lift.
The cooking warms the place up, so that's one thing. The other is that the nanoforge is fucking fantastic for multitasking. You're able to get started on your concept drawings for your new super-suit right away, stripping down to the old thing in question as you go. It's damn comfortable and surprisingly warm for something thinner than your hair, and it's- well, it makes a statement, and signing your name on the dotted line under that statement is a worrying thrill all of its own. You scribble down ideas as fast as you have them, sticking to basic shapes and doodles and notes in the margins while you knock the rust off. It's been so long since you've been able to draw, it almost makes you feel like a kid again. While your right hand is busy your left gets to work making pasta (with a break to do the dishes sitting in the sink you've been meaning to take care of for a few days now so that you actually have a pot to work with). It's weirdly energising in a way, making the sauce out of whatever random crap you could find in the fridge and the contents of the can in between ideas, the apartment slowly filling with warmth as the smell of meat and sauce and pasta drifts up into your nose.
You sit down at your desk to eat, throw on your headphones to listen to music, slide the design window over to hover in easy reach just above your laptop, and it's... nice. It's nice in a way that takes a while to hit. The pasta tastes pretty good, hearty and filling in a way that a lot of your sad home-cooked meals have failed to do as the combo pack of melted cheese and ground beef and herby garlicy sauce hit your tongue and stomach just the way you were craving, you're swinging back around to optimistic about this new team gig, and you're making some headway on the design you think. You're definitely relearning figures fast with all the false starts you've made, but you've definitively eliminated capes and cloaks of all kinds from the running in favour of a more sleek look. Something that still has a bit of a mystic otherworldly look, full-face helmet definitely stays, maybe throw in some decoration on the head to make it look interesting? Need to do something about footwear at some point, can't be looking like you're running around in socks, and the gloves definitely need a redesign for the EM field generation gimmick. You're briefly stymied by the fact that hands are the devil and the bane of artists everywhere, but the nanoforge provides a poseable 3D model of your own hands for reference that really comes in handy.
Unintentional pun aside, a thought occurs to you as you thank the nanoforge yet again for its help. Namely, that it doesn't have a name. For something you've been talking to extensively since it got here you'd think you'd have something better than 'the nanoforge' or 'hey, you' by now.
You clear your throat. "Uh, hey...?" Case in point, without a set term of address you're just left throwing an upward inflection into the void. The nanoforge avatar manifests regardless, hovering about level with your virtual art tablet.
"May I be of assistance?" it asks.
"Well yeah, just on this one thing that's kind of bugging me." You swallow the final mouthful of pasta and rest your fork in the bowl carefully, the tines ringing out against the porcelain. "I was just wondering... what should I call you?"
"I am your virtual physician, designation NF-14-13-04-"
"Oh come on, you have to know that's not what I meant," you complain, not very seriously.
"Possibly. What do you mean?"
"Well... gonna be part of a team from now on, right?" you say. "And we had that discussion about letting you reply if the others try to talk to you directly? Then we'll all need something to call you, like a nickname or something. Easy to say in a hurry. Otherwise who knows how weird and clunky it's gonna get trying to talk to each other, and that's probably not good to have in the heat of a firefight or whatever."
"You raise a valid point. I will register an alternative designation; however I have no personal opinion on the matter, nor do I require you to refer to me as if I were a person. If you would like to proceed with registry of the alternative designation, you must provide it yourself."
Oh yeah, no pressure, just name your robot doctor real quick, this won't have major ramifications for the rest of your working relationship. Your hand stills - the concept's going well you think, you're going nuts on the self-indulgent flourishes for fun so you can cut back later, but the basic shape looks good. An impression of wings defined by negative space and high-tech wizardry. But of course now you can't work on it because you're busy racking your brain. What would make a good name?
[ ] Forge. Short, sweet, descriptive, to the point. Also one of the preliminary ideas you had for your own superhero name so maybe you shouldn't give yourself that kind of competition.
[ ] Doc. Bugs Bunny jokes from others will most likely be inevitable, but it did basically offer to be the group sawbones, so why not lean into it? May also come off a little tryhard.
[ ] MD. Taking the numbers in its designation as letters they spell out 'MND', and if you drop the 'N' that leaves 'MD' as in Medical Doctor. Very clever, makes you feel smart just thinking about it.
[ ] Some kind of very witty and concise reference to classic sci-fi novelists, which you will not be able to make off the top of your head but you will once you google the subject. People may think you're deep and thoughtful. Definitely tryhard.
[ ] Write-in.
