<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)<br/>Stonewall | Jackson Stewart (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=298984.msg14626760#msg14626760)</div>Nodding in reply to Hope's first question, Jax gives a little half-curtsy.  "Something like that.  The alloy's tough, but has to be structured correctly to be really strong, and most of the power's based on a resonance that can't quite be duplicated.  So, I get to be the one and only-- it's the neural interface.  Kind of like... well, it's tough to explain.  Just... don't be grossed out."  Still in the undershirt and briefs, she turns her back, showing not<i>exclusively</i>the swell of her ass and a peek of her back-dimples for a moment, but upon turning her head to profile, and parting her hair, a glistening black pattern of whorls and circles on her back is visible, three-dimensional and cyber-punk looking.  Then, to her keen eye, Hope can clearly see it's not a tattoo... there are glistening nodes there, like some kind of silicate or plastic, branching off from her spine.  Her bright eyes glisten with a bit of nervousness, slightly more vulnerable-looking than when she was stripping her clothes minutes ago.<br/><br/>She gestures with her thin fingers toward the area of her neck and head.  "There's some things in here required to make it all sync up.  Otherwise it's just... well... a shell.  Altogether, with me inside, it's about three hundred pounds of live wires and resonating atoms and plates and... er... whatever."  She grins, does a little half-pirouette.  "And we can't quite replicate this yet, so, I'm either a defect or<em>incredibly </em>useful.  So yes, if you can handle my embarrassing mass, then yes-- let's break a record.  But if you kill me you'll be destroying an international treasure."  She chuckles at her own little joke and rolls her eyes,  " Well, not quite a treasure, but a<em>curiosity </em>at least."<br/><br/>"You're incredible, by the way, though I'm certain you're used to hearing it," she says with a smile as she turns around.  And she reaches, as if she's about to place her hand on Hope's breast-- and instead, picks up a glass of wine and lifts it to her lips.  "A physical therapist?  You can do great things, and that's... well, a good pursuit.  But most importantly, it's very... comfortable."  She touches the glass to her lips.  "You help people heal.  You know.  Touching them and all.  Finding where it hurts, or... just where they need it?"  Her gaze, like her words, is getting a little bolder, but still being hesitant.  She'd have to be blind to not notice that Hope seems to<i>like</i>her looking, but there's still a constant hesitation in Jax's flirtations.  Aside from the professional curiosity and the fascination with her power, she's at least<i>intellectually aware</i>that, as a human being goes, her own libido is not exactly<i>normal</i>, and failing to explain this can cause some problems...<br/><br/>But that can be a bit easier when it comes to talking to someone who rescues lost hikers in the Rockies and can fly to the moon.  So at those last revelations, she blinks in surprise and clears her throat, then cannot contain the broadening grin of amazement that spreads across her face.  "Oh is that all?  Well... it sounds as though you're<i>well</i>on your way to becoming a hero, if good and astonishing deeds are the mandatory requirements."  The nanites in her head are flitting around crazily now with all the confusing sensations of her desire and amazement.<br/><br/>"So no need to sleep, comfortable in... oh... at least a five or six hundred degree temperature variation", the redhead interrupts herself by lifting one index finger, the short-cut, but clean fingernail pointing as she pantomimes academic authority, "without oxygen, no less.  Flying under no machine propulsion and wearing stretch fabric that, not that I'm admitting to looking or fantasizing about it, but looks like it would rip right off if you had a good sneeze."  At the admission, she gives a light shiver, then leans closer.  "Not admitting to it, but not denying it."  She extends her hand hovers it just over Hope's breast-- an inch of space between them.  Hope can actually hear her heartbeat, and the flush on her pale skin, the swell of her pert breasts as her breath increases, would be apparent to the naked eye without Hope's incredible perception.  She locks eyes with the blonde girl, blinks, the light-colored lashes fluttering gently, as if seeking confirmation, asking<i>am I crazy?  and if so, is crazy okay?</i>