ArchivedLogs:Wondrous Things

Wondrous Things
Dramatis Personae Peter, Ruth, Sebastian	2013-06-08 '
Location <XS> Workshop
A large barn-like building situated at the far end of the gardens from the mansion proper, this makerspace functions as a classroom for many of the more hands-on classes. An expanse of workshop space, it is subdivided into smaller segments for the different types of activities: Woodshop, Welding shop, Machine shop, Electronics, Bike shop, Screen Printing and Photography, Fabric Arts, and the Rapid Prototyping Lab with a trio of 3D printers. The space comes complete with a large host of tools available for use, although many of the more dangerous require prior clearance from administration to use -- students with appropriate clearance to use them can gain access to locked equipment with their student IDs. From sanders to MIG/TIG welders to soldering stations to industrial sewing machines to its own darkroom, though, this space is well equipped for teaching students how to /make/. Peter is a pretty common face in the workshop, nowadays; when he first arrived, he didn't even know it existed -- but as soon as he found out, well... the 3D printer gets a /lot/ of use from him. Today, Peter's been zig-zagging between several of the segmented areas of the workshop -- moving from the Fabric end toward the Rapid Prototyping end. He's got -- his clunky old laptop out and on a table near the 3D printer; he's also got -- an unusual amount of carefully folded whiteish material nearby. It's sloppy in appearance; it has a sort of rough, plastery look; like half-melted plastic with lots of shiny spots and strange, spiral patterns in it. There's also some red cloth -- an old fireman's gas-mask (currently disassembled!) -- a red mouthless ski-mask -- a set of gold-tinted goggles -- and, various bits and pieces of recently-printed plastic, along with what /seems/ to be a tiny disassembled LCD, and -- just /tons/ of electronic nick-knacks. And... elbow pads. And knee pads. And, good /grief/ what the hell is he doing with all this stuff?! Currently, Peter's messing around with what looks to be some sort of chip -- mounted in a vice -- soldering tools in hand as he works. The wall opposite him has -- a lot of strands of greyish silver and goopey splats covering it -- like someone's been hitting it with... well, thwippy things. Of varying types! He's also wearing a pair of safety goggles, a blue collared shirt (sleeves rolled up!), blue jeans -- and his two-toed socks (with sandals overtop them). Sitting in a stool, legs dangling, tongue stuck out as he /glares/ at the chip he's soldering. Sneaksneaksneak. Sebastian is pretty good at quiet, when he aims for it; he isn't so much /actually/ aiming for it right now as he is still kind of lingering in hunt-mode, recently returned from the woods surrounding the school. He doesn't /look/ particularly hunterish anymore, at least, in sunny yellow shorts and white tank top, bare feet though he carries chunky grey-and-pink platform sneakers dangling from one hand. He slips into the workshop quietly, backpack slung over his shoulder, and he's /been/ drifting towards the machine shop but now he stops. Tilts his head curiously. He slips over nearer Peter, watching without initially giving greeting. "... Problems?" he asks, finally. Ruth has never before been seen in the workshop. Truthfully, she's rarely been seen at all since settling in. The unicorn has been quiet as a mouse and every bit as difficult to spot as her mythical predecessor. But with the school clearing out now that finals are done, only those remaining for graduation and summer classes remaining, she's growing a little more bold. And she overheard someone mentioning an industrial sewing machine in this building. /Industrial/. That means /big/. Near the open doors--there's a nice breeze, isn't there?--a dark brow eye peeps around the edge. Also visible, some matching hair and the tip of her horn. Sadly, she cannot press flush to the wall. The horn bumps into things. But she can try. At first she just observes the pair and the mess that Peter has created. Then she inches around and perambulates forward, hooves tick-ticking with each careful step--she doesn't do well on smooth surfaces. "AGH." A few months ago, and Peter would probably now be on the ceiling, staring down at Sebastian. But, uh, Peter has managed to calm down. A /bit/. When Sebastian startles him, his head snaps up and he spins -- but he does not jump. He also recovers remarkably quick! "Oh/hey/ Bastian. Uh, I guess I dunno I'm," he begins, before /spinning/ back 'round to the chip, "trying to build a set of webshooters without Kisha's help? I mean, like hers, with the plastic and stuff, just 'cuz -- y'know I wanna, customize 'em? But first I guess I gotta /build/ them. If these work I'm gonna give 'em to Anole, and..." Peter's head peeks up. Just a bit. /Eyeing/ Ruth as her hooves tick-tack on the floor. For his part, he immediately brightens. "Oh hey hi!" he says, waving a hand to her -- the other hand continuing to solder. To Sebastian, he mentions, without turning back to him: "I'm gonna, um, improve the mask, too. Add a really thin smoke filter? Cuz, um, smoke. Also this is Ruth. Ruth! This is Sebastian." "Hey," Sebastian sounds apologetic, "/sorry/ I didn't mean to sneak up. Hi. Oh!" His eyes light, and he unslings his backpack to rest on a stool. "I, um, I was working on -- on a new pair?" he admits this kind of shyly, "because yours got stolen and -- the old ones weren't as -- I mean, I thought maybe I could make new ones for everyone so I've sort of already --" His cheeks flush a little darker. He turns at the scent the breeze carries in from the open door, and a quick warm smile flits across his face. Very conscientiously closed-lipped. "Ruth? Hi! I'm -- right." His nose crinkles. Introductions, already happened. "Are you just starting, welcome!" So much babbling! Ruth appears to tune it out though she's looking at the table and their doodads with some interest. She's got her head canted at an odd angle--as if there were a way to lower and turn it, to minimize the jut of her horn. "Hello, Peter. Hello...Sebastian? Hello," she says, her Spanish accent thick. "You are making?" Her smile is also closed-lipped and small, but genuine. She even tick-tacks a little closer. Dressed only in an oversized t-shirt that's been tailored into a dress and a wrap belt, there's a pursed strung across her chest. Both hands are curled securely around the strap. "They said machines are here." "Whoa wait /you're/ making a new pair?" IMMEDIATELY, Peter's put down the soldering kit, wheeling around to peeeeer at Bastian. If Sebastian is afraid that this is a /bad/ peer, his concerns are soon addressed; the peer quickly graduates into a full-out grin. "You /did/ say that, back in Georgia -- oh man we should work together. We could make -- an even /awesomer/ version. You know I was gonna put in, like, a self-destruct sequence? So like if you absolutely have to you can tear one off and throw it and it turns into a WEB-GRENADE. Just, *bkooough*," Peter says, illustrating this by spreading his open palms outward into a giant... sticky web explosion. "Not like /fiery/ or loud just, sticky gunk /everywhere/--" Peter's eyes swing back to Ruth, though. Because! She's talking! Right. "Yeah I'm making -- like, um. I'm adding a smoke-filter to my mask, and maybe trying to see if I can make some sort of flexible body-armor, and elbow and knee pads, also maybe build some tracers in case I gotta follow a dude, and..." Oh, this explains the array of things Peter has in front of him: He's trying to do /all/ the things. At once. "But yeah they got /tons/ of awesome machines in here like a 3D printer and, oh man, just /everything/." "You were glaring at the chip." Bastian gestures to -- the chip! That Peter was soldering. And glaring at. He unzips his bag, opening it to take out -- kind of a half formed model of what will undoubtedly /one/ day be webshooters. "... um, though, you should. Maybe? Try working on one of these things at a /time/?" He suggests this tentatively. "I was actually working on making the splatty balls kind of /splattier/, I don't think you'd /need/ to self-destruct it to --" He blushes, slightly, then, ducking his head apologetically to Ruth. "Sorry, right, hi! Um, yes. We're making things there's -- you can make /so many things/ here," this continues more brightly eager. "There's a /lot/ of machines you can basically, make, pretty much anything! What -- kind of making did you want to make?" Ruth looks back and forth between them, quickly enough that it seems her eyes surely must tick-tick too. But they don't. They just widen. Not /all/ of that was translated but what /was/ appears to have startled her. "Smoke...filter. Armor. Grenade," she says thickly. "Destruct? You are...making. Weapon?" Yes, she is holding that purse a liiiittle closer to her chest, studying the added color in Bastian's face with consternation. Or maybe it's surprise. "I am...sewing. Sewing machine. The big one?" "Oh yeah, 'cuz," Peter explains, turning to /glare/ at that chip once more, "it's not /working/ it's supposed to measure the contents of a cartridge but it just, says its empty, every time--" Now, Peter is turning to inspect the half-formed model, SNATCH, peer peer peer, turning it over in his hands. "Yeah I guess, I just, I dunno, I can't think of just /one/ thing at a time, I just get -- bored," Peter mumbles. "...oh," Peter says, head snapping up to look up at Ruth. And smile, uh -- weakly. "No, not like -- I mean, for /fires/ and stuff. You could use the web-grenade to, like, smother a fire? And I wanna put, like, try to build -- a liquid cooling and ventilator garment? Under the armor, to keep you cool, and um. Actually yeah okay the armor's in case somebody actually /shoots/ at me," he relents. On /that/ point, at least. "Oh yeah they got a sewing machine, I can show you, s'pretty awesome I was -- um, I'm not actually very good at sewing, but I've been trying to learn because, /man/ you tear up a bunch of stuff in this line of..." Peter pauses, before finishing: "...work." Sebastian relinquishes his half-done thwippy thing easily, reaching instead to take the chip! Carefully, and study it. "I work with distractions around," he admits, and then with a quick smile, "-- like Shane. It's not, I mean, working on lots of things is OK but with this kind of equipment its really easy to -- skip steps. Do things wrong." His eyes widen slightly at Ruth's questioning, and he shakes his head quickly. "Oh! Oh, no, it's not. Like a weapon, no, it's -- for --" He blushes deeper. "Flying." But the mention of sewing makes him brighten again. "Oh! Yes! There's a sewing machine. There's a whole sewing /section/, c'mon!" Still holding Peter's chip, he slips around the table, beckoning. "I think the, um, the /biggest/ ones you need to get -- approval before you use, but the. That's not /hard/ they just want to make sure you don't break them." Maybe Ruth is buying Peter's explanation. Maybe not. She gives him a look that's difficult to read--still smiling but certainly giving his table a wiiiider berth when Sebastian sets off to lead her towards The Section. The glorious section. "People are shooting fire men?" There, see Peter? Maybe she's bought it after all. "Flying...it is very different here." The deeper into the workshop she goes, the closer her hand slips towards the flap of her purse and the more agitated her tail becomes. It's practically sweeping the ground behind her as Ruth looks up and around. "I am not needing the big ones. To see, maybe? Smaller one is better. For clothes." Almost solemnly, she pronounces finally, "I do not fly." "You're probably right," Peter admits, wrinkling his nose at the comment about skipping steps. "I don't want to -- screw anything up. /Man/ especially not when it comes to flying. Y'know I totally want to make a mini-wingsuit, too? I mean, I dunno if it would work, it'd probably be /crazy/ dangerous, but--" Peter, slinging through the air at high speed, only to unfurl WINGS as he proceeds to GLIDE. Perfectly safe. Peter trails behind Sebastian and Ruth as they move toward the fabric section; Peter leaves his PILE OF THINGS behind, though he takes Sebastian's half-finished webshooter. "Sometimes," he tells Ruth, before adding: "Um I mean. I'm not /actually/ a fireman. I think, uh. Sometimes they just shoot at you 'cuz, they're angry on account of not enough hugs." Peter waves his free hand; /something/ like that. "We /kinda/ fly. More like -- swing. On weblines. S'pretty neat. I bet we could fly with /glider/ suits, though." "I don't think people shoot at firemen," Sebastian shakes his head. "Peter just --" His nose crinkles, lips curling up, amused. "Has a thing for -- adventure." He leads them over by the fabric arts section, arms spreading wide at their tables with sewing machines already set up, smallest to largest; along the wall there are cabinets and drawers with all manner of thread and bolts of cloth and buttons and zippers and velcros and various accoutrements for the making of THINGS. "-- I'd want a wingsuit. You think my dad's partner might -- I mean, a wingsuit is /like/ a prosthetic, right? It's an extension that lets you /fly/." Bastian's hands drop to his side, and he gives Ruth a bit of a concerned look. "Are you okay? You seem a little --" He nods towards her tail. "Twitchy?" "Shooting is because someone is wanting you dead, si?" Ruth, unswayed by arguments of lack of hugs, delivers this quiet inquiry with a glance at the boy in question. Sebastian's assurances leave her looking thoughtful, albeit slightly puzzled. "Adventures with shooting is...{Beg pardon, my English is not very good but adventures are for movies and television. I thought that this was a school,}" she rattles off, mid-thought. Only to be seduced away from poking holes in their theories by /sewing machines/. She gasps. Literally. And then she hurries over to inspect the closest machine, finally releasing the purse in order to run her hands over metal and plastic. "Inside is hard," she says, distracted. "Dangerous. These are for using? For...mmm, young people?" "It's totally like a prosthetic," Peter agrees. "Just for, like, a limb nobody's born wi--" He pauses, before adding: "Um actually I guess Horus has one. A limb /most/ people aren't born with?" At the mention of people shooting at him, Peter puffs up. "Oh, yeah. /Tons/ of people want me dead. 'Cuz I'm too /awesome/." That is, at least, Peter's opinion on this matter. At the Spanish, Peter listens, but doesn't understand a lick of it; when Ruth gasps at the sight of the sewing machines, though -- well, he understands /that/. He's promptly grinning. "Yep. For using! Students." "Horus has /two/," Sebastian corrects brightly. He is back to looking at the chip Peter had been welding. He does understand the Spanish, albeit -- sort of brokenly. "This is school," he gives in halting-slow agreement, after a furrowed-brow pause. "Peter is." He hesitates. "Not school adventures. Outside-adventures. Sorry. My brother says better. Spanish." "These are for using," he agrees with a nod. "For us. Everything is for using," his hand sweeps out to indicate the room at large, "but the more dangerous equipment, you can only use with permission." His head tilts slightly to one side. "Inside is dangerous?" He sounds confused at this. Ruth is opening and closing panels on the machine, turning knobs, bending in close to get a better look at the needle. When she straightens up, her horn is a touch brighter, more prone to shimmering. Not quite a mood-ring but /close/. "For using," she confirms, and briefly her smile is there, stretching cheek to cheek. "Is good. Thank you for showing." Oh, right, they'd also been talking about other things. She looks between the pair, eyebrows lifting. "Your Spanish is good," she says politely. "Outside-adventures are...flying? Shooting? Fires? I am...mmm. How to say it? Inside things make me...very ill? Outside for me is safer. Inside for you, safer?" Peter's chip is, well, a chip! It's actually for the LCD display; meant to control what the screen shows. "Man maybe Horus could give us gliding lessons," Peter comments -- then, as Ruth turns around to smile at them, Peter smiles back -- just an edge of teeth to it, bright white against his metallic black face. "Inside things make you ill," Peter repeats, thinking a moment, eyebrows crumpling. He starts tapping his finger on Sebastian's webshooter. "...allergies? A kid I know back at my old school ended up leaving cuz all the cleaning chemicals and stuff they used made him really sick." "Yup! For using. This whole place is." Sebastian bounces slightly on his toes, leaning against a table with an elbow to turn the chip over in his hands. "Ill? I don't know. Inside and outside are both --" He frowns. "The water," he says, "is safer. For me. What makes you ill?" He is watching the horn as it brightens, and his eyes widen in time with it. "-- Ohmygosh, that's so /pretty/." "Allergies, si. Thank you, Peter. That is the word. You see?" Ruth tucks her chin down and flips the purse open. In short order, she's filled her hands with pill bottles, an inhaler, an EpiPen, a small travel pack of tissues. She wags them at the boy, and then solemnly tucks everything away again. "Everything is making me ill. If it is...mm, not from the ground? Or water. Or..." Her golden skin takes on a more caramel hue as she reaches up to curl her fingers over the horn. "...thank you, Sebastian. I..." Ruth casts about for a /distraction/. "If you will fly, may I see?" "Oh, /dude/," Peter says, as Sebastian turns that chip around over in his hands -- as if suddenly remembering something. "Dude dude /dude/ that reminds me you missed the whole Doom, um, science expo thing but that's okay 'cuz you should come with me to /Stark Tower/. I found out they give you guided tours and /everything/ plus I heard he's got -- holographic stuff? It would be /so/ frigging awesome if I could build, like, that stuff into the mask, y'know like AUGMENTED REALITY stuff--" Peter's head snaps around to watch as Ruth extracts -- oh, /goodness/. His eyebrows shoot up; his eyes widen. "Oh, /dude/ that's a lot of -- man that kinda sucks." His eyes flick up to her horn as her fingers curl around it; Peter grins, before adding: "You could /totally/ see." "Ohhhh. Oh, that's a lot of drugs." Sebastian considers them for a moment, then, brighter: "-- Can you /swim/, do you like swimming? The lake doesn't have much in it that's not natural." He looks up at Peter, bopping back up onto his toes again. "Oh /gosh/ I /know/, Spence left me like a /million/ voicemails telling me I had to take him to the Doom thing," he looks exceedingly guilty about that, "-- Wait you've never been to Stark Tower?" Wide-eyes all over again. "Their -- their computers have, like -- /holographs/ that you can -- you can /use/ them it's -- do you think you could really wire that into your mask? Google-glasses mask?" His tone gets brighter the more he thinks about this. His smile is just as bright when he turns it back to Ruth. "Yeah! You could, um, it's not /really/ like flying but you could. Maybe even swing along /with/ us I bet Peter could. Carry you. While he thwips around." "Swimming is hard. No...no feet, si?" Ruth balances briefly one on narrow hoof in order to cock her leg up so the other can be studied. That only lasts a few seconds before it thumps down to the floor again. Tink! "I have to..." With her hands free, she mimes doggy-paddling due to lacking the vocabulary. "But...more easy than flying, I think? I am happy with watching," she assures them. Then she's hanging onto purse-strap again and running back through the OMG GUSHING just spouted by both. "What are holographic?" "Oh man /you've/ been th--?! Ohyeah, um, no I've never -- I mean, I always wanted to, but--" Peter turns a shade of violet, before mumbling: "...whatifheshowed/up/." STARK, apparently. The idea of facing this man seems to put Peter in a fit of mortal terror. "...I guess that's dumb I mean, but. But, /yeah/, I dunno, /maybe/ I mean -- you know even the military uses 'em now? I was thinking, maybe I could --" Peter's eyes flick back to Ruth, glancing down at her hooves, and... "Oh /man/, I forgot you had --" A hint of violet, followed by: "Oh. Holograms are -- a type of optical illusion? Making things appear to be there when they aren't." "But. You can wade. Paddle around. Enjoy the /water/, it's so nice in summer." Sebastian shakes his head at Peter's terror. "/Dude/ you know how many people visit that tower, like, /all/ the time, I'm sure he's got. Seventeen back entrances that he uses to avoid the -- everyone. All of us." He gestures between them all. "... but if he did show up wouldn't that be /awesome/?" Bastian doesn't sound quite as terrified. "Dude might be the smartest man /alive/ that's -- I /hope/ he shows up." "He can do this? Hologram? You should go," Ruth says, solemn and reasonable. "{If you do not see the wondrous things when you have the chance, you will always regret it. Yes?} She looks to Sebastian to back her up on this--he, after all, is the friend and apparent encourager. "Flying, hologram, paddle...so very much here. /I/ would go if these things made me speak like..." Again, words fail. So she puts on a :o face and does jazz hands near her head--Ruth's impression of Peter, apparently. "But, dude," Peter says to Sebastian, his horror only /mounting/. "What if we go there and we've got our prototype webshooters and HE shows up and is like 'oh man those are pretty cool do you guys want to hang out and build awesome stuff' and we're like 'YES OHMYGOD YES' and now we're hanging out with TONY-FRIGGING-STARK," Peter says, apparently forgetting to breathe. Also, mid-way through this rant, reaching out to grab Sebastian's shoulders and. Maybe shake. Just a little. "I could /not/ handle that sort of pressure oh my /God/ I'm just sixteen!" But, Peter calms down a little after this. Grip on Sebastian's shoulders /relenting/. A glance toward Ruth, a bit tinier, a bit... 'meekier'? "...yeah you're probably right I mean, I just get, all anxious and stuff but yeah I will go so long as /somebody comes with me/." STARE. AT SEBASTIAN. But then, back to Ruth: "...you could totally come too although, it'd be in the city, you'd probably -- you'd maybe not be safe in the city. Allergies'n stuff." :/ face. "{Yes,}" Sebastian agrees, "{He should go. See wondrous things. Are there --}" He gestures towards her bag. "{With drugs. Can you go -- for the city? Or is it too much?}" His eyes widen as he is suddenly being shaken, and his startled-quick laugh at Ruth's Peter-demonstration for the first time shows his plethora of sharkteeth. "Ohmygosh, Peter, it's OK! I mean if -- if /Tony Stark/ wanted to hang out with /us/ we'd just -- show him awesome things. Like webshooters. I'll /so/ go with you." He does jazz-hands, too, wiggling them in mimicry of Ruth near his head. "Ruth, that is the /best/ Peter impression I have ever /seen/." Ruth does not take Peter's Bastian-shaking in stride, as the one shaken does. She steps back, tail whipping at the air and purse held higher, clutched to her chest. Meekier helps a /little/, but her horn is brighter again--and there's a subtle but definite aura of calm pushing outward from the girl. Invisible, but just enough to let more /productive/ thoughts take over as it washes over the others. "It is dangerous. Very dangerous. The...smoke? Cars and buses. I am happy for you to go and see, Peter. Sebastian. You can talk after? Maybe not with..." A small smile greets the jazz-hands--and she joins in again too. Without /those/, yes. "Pffft I do /not/ act like that," Peter says, with a loud /harumph/ -- followed by the folding of his arms over his chest. But, a moment later, and he's glancing to Ruth with a smile, a sense of calmness washing over him, and: "Oh, yeah, sure. I mean." Arms unfold from his chest. He /eyes/ the jazz handing, before wrinkling his nose and: "Yeah okay maybe I do sometimes get a little, uh." /He/ does the jazz hands. "You get excited! Nothing wrong with that." Sebastian glances up to the brighter horn. "Yeah, the city has a /lot/ of --" His nose wrinkles. "Lot of terrible. Where did you come from -- um, before here?" He's slightly less bouncy, returning to examining the chip. But only slightly less bouncy for a moment before: "Oh!" He is /darting off/. To return to /Peter's/ workstation. And start meddling with /his/ webshooters. "Excited is not bad," Ruth seconds. Her hand creeps upwards again but the gesture is aborted before she can hide the horn. Sebastian's rapid exit interrupts the movement, prompting her to look at the ground briefly--yes, she hoof-scuffs--before gathering herself. "Amarillo," she says. Ama-riyo. "Outside. {My grandmother had a farm. It was...better. But not green like here.} With that answer given, she touches the sewing machine lightly in promise before also heading back towards the workstation. Or, more accurately, to the doors beyond it. "When you fly, you will say? Both?" Peter flushes at the mention of him getting, uh, /excited/. But he's also grinning. And heading back to the workstation, too, in pursuit of Sebastian. A bit /slower/, but still. "Oh yeah I'll totally -- we'll totally -- I mean, we can email you or something, yeah. Probably do some testing with it in the DR first 'cuz... but yeah, we can totally do that." "Don't," Sebastian calls this back towards Ruth as he puts on protective goggles, "listen to what anyone tells you, the Danger Room is /not/ dangerous. Just /awesome/. -- Isn't that yellow? Oh! My pa has a farm. It's -- it's /really/ pretty." And then he lapses into silence, turning instead to work. Kind of /intently/. "Awesome," Ruth parrots--but, seeing both boys descending into geekery, she is also slowly and carefully withdrawing so as to avoid disturbing them. Can one tiptoe without toes? Let's find out!