Varric Tethras | Dragon Age (taleweaver) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-03-09 21:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, montgomery scott, varric tethras |
"Seriously, Tinker. Just what in the hell are you banned from, anyway?"
Who: Varric, Scotty
What: Plotting anti-gravity. Talk about incidents that had involved exploding things. And Scotty getting arrested.
When: Yesterday!
Where: Santa Ana. Repair shop.
Rating: PG-13, Language, smootching
Status: Complete
Cass was taking her time. Doo dee doo.
Doo dee doo, a certain Scotsman is playing a game on his phone to distract himself, because someone is taking her sweet time getting back there. Actually, the distraction was working very well. His eyes are glued, his fingers are on that screen moving around like he’s text messaging on a sugar rush. World? What world? It has ceased to exist. It is an ex-world.
Doo doo doo.
Scotty was meanwhile still very focused on one of those stupid color block games. He was moving a red color blob there and then rotating it out so a blue color blob was next to other two color blobs...and then dealing with the green ones over there...
His phone! It rang!
He ignored it, since he was soooo close to almost clearing the level!
Varric glared at the phone, “Answer, damn it.”
“...leave...message...UCHHHhhbuggeryshit
‘Tinker! I've got some good news”
“Short an' hairy! What is it, then?”
“Remember that special project you wanted to work on? I found a site.”
"Which special project's that?" asked Scotty, staring at the far wall and trying to sort out which project was which in his head, for he has a stockpile of projects and things he wants to try to build. And blow up.
Varric laughed, wandering around in his office, "Remember that incident in Wyoming? The sequel."
"Which incident was that?" said Scotty, though there was a vague squint, like maybe something was eeking to the surface. Something that didn't have to do with atom smashing, since he was reluctant to divulge that to Varric. He'd left a lot of people in Texas wondering why they ever funded that fine mess of a project. "Jet bike? Speed record car? Missle launcher?"
"Shite, I cannae recall. Enlighten me," he finally said with a shrug, because he's sorting through it, like his brain is a file cabinet. W for Wyoming?
"The gravity project," Varric replied. He threw his coat on and picked up his manbag. Yes, he had a manbag. Wanna fight about it? "Should be able to test without lifting half the city to the moon. If it even works." Which he had doubts about. He wasn't even sure if it was anti-gravity or artificial gravity, or both. Or some sort of Interia dampener.
Either way, he'd gotten the land cheap. Too cheap. Probably best not to tell Scotty why it was so cheap.
Scotty is sitting there like 'Hello? How did you know about this?' He never tells anyone about that and had put in a great amount of effort to never let anyone find out. It was the hugest blight on his otherwise relatively brilliant record. It was also something he’d gotten into huge trouble over, and almost ended up deported. And there he goes, eyedarting like he's wondering if there's ninjas behind the sofa and if they’ve been spying on him.
Or a long night ranting and raving drunk off his rocker?
His brain was only able to come up with one other possible reason how Varric would've known...yes, there’s that.
WINCE. That is Scotty's face right now.
"Ahh, right. That. I must've said...middle of nowheres....uh...Varric, be a good lad an' next time I'm blethering on about stuff like that, remind me I'm legally prohibited from going near anything that has tae dew with atoms, gravity, or power grids? Because, I am. Unless ye REALLY want me tae have tae go back home tae Aberdeen. Then maybe ye've got a legitimate claim tae...having me dabble."
Damn, Scotty reminded himself he really needed to watch shooting his mouth off so often. Likely when drunk. Or just, you know, maybe all of the time.
"There's nothing to do with atoms or power grids." Varric paused, "Well, it has its own power grid. Sort of."
"Varric," one hand met his face, "I'm really serious now. I'm not supposed tae even get near anything o' the sort. Seriously. I'm probably not supposed tae gew back tae Texas, either. Probably because I'd exploded a small portion of their state. I dunnae want tae end up in JAIL again."
"No crazy things, no anti-gravity, no molecules, nothin'...ye know..." He couldn't see it, but Scotty made a gesture with one hand. That gesture was the BOOM gesture.
"You mentioned something about shielding? Imagine cars with shielding." Varric was persistent, "The lives saved. Or in airplanes. What's the worse that could happen with that?"
"No, not supposed tae touch it." Scotty is stubborn. "Not happening. Very nice offer, sorely tempted, but if me thirty-seven year auld arse ends up having tae sleep on me sis' couch, I'm geen tae be pointing a finger at ye."
"Seriously, Tinker. Just what in the hell are you banned from, anyway?" Varric shook his head. It took all the fun out of everything.
A quick clearing of his throat and Scotty started to prattle off, "I believe it was anything pertaining tae atoms, molecules, gravity, magnets, the separation or collision of any of those things for the potential purposes of causing any potentially dangerous situations, and-or any damage to persons, property, and livelihoods of any citizen...of which I could be held libel an’ fined up tae...some astronomical amount of money, have me probation ripped out from under me an' deported, after a jail sentence.” He drew in a much needed breath. “Is that clear enough, then?"
If it wasn’t, Scotty was making the ‘WHATSAMATTERYOU’ hand gesture with one hand while rolling his eyes, like WHY would anyone LISTEN to him while he was shite-faced out of his mind and that drunk to EVEN let ANY part of what he’d done, EVER leak out.
"Well there's your loophole. You have no intention to create potentially dangerous situations, or any damage to persons, properpty or livlihood." Varric grinned into the phone, "In fact, you could probably blow up a cement truck like on Mythbusters and no one would notice. Much."
The potential for disaster an deportation didn't seem to phase Varric, in the slightest. The potential to see all that potential wasted, did.
Its probably good for all involved, particularly any innocent bystanders, that Kirk isn't around. He'd try to egg Scotty into doing it.
And since Scotty had been so careful NOT to get involved in it again, and because HE remembered sitting in a jail for a while, while they sorted out WHAT to do with him? A lot of red tape, yes? He was not keen on tempting fate again.
"Nae...NAE. Nae bloody fucking hell in a bastard basket, shite NAE. I'm not gonnae doooo that," Scotty was saying, and he was cemented in this decision, because they whole thing was just something he needed to figure out. Mostly how and what and why things had went wrong. And until he was certain of it, in those hours of the night when he woke up and did dwell on it (a little too much), he wasn't going to dabble. "Maybe ye can sell the land back, or have a nice cow or two. Aye? Aye. Sounds brilliant. Let me know if ye make any cheese, because I'm NOT bein' talked intae this. Is there anything else I can help ye with? Along with warning ye not tae talk about this again, as it annoys the fuck outtae me?"
Varric pursed his lips. Scotty had this way that made it difficult to....argue with him, and yet..easy to argue.
Maybe hard to win an argument with. Varric knew he was losing this one.
Though not entirely, "How about this. I keep the land, and when you're ready to use it, or you need a place to test robots and rocket bikes, you'll have a safe area where you can't blow people up. Fair enough?"
Considering that Scotty felt like a volcano about to explode any second, and the villagers best be throwing in virgins as peace offerings or vacating immediately? That seemed like a fair enough offer, and his temper cooled a smidge. Just enough so that he wasn’t about to exploderate all over the place, and especially not again at Varric.
“Fine,” was the tersely spoken response. “Well enough. I might not have reason tae use it, though. Ever. Just sae ye know. An’ apparently I need tae mind me mouth, because I’m blabbing shite all over the place, lately.”
"What sort of shit? And you know you can say anything in complete confidence. Its not like I ever tell anyone about half the shit you blab about when drunk." Which was generally true. While he might attempt to maneuver or manipulate things, he tried not to break confidences.
Apparently there had been something that once involved a goat, a suspension bridge and 2ply toilet paper.
"Tae much shite. Looook. I appreciate all ye done for me an' not relaying half the shite I blab about when I've had a few tae many, Varric. Really, I deeeeeeew. But I'm hanging up now. This is me finger, hittin' the button. End call. Buh-bye, laddie," Scotty was saying, as he was NOT going to talk about that incident. AT ALL.
"Your loss, I just got a new shipment in, direct from Edinburgh." With that, Varric hung up the phone, and tossed it in his jacket. He wasn't going to share any with his friend - unless he asked nicely.
Meanwhile, Cass was busy. Not coming back. Yet. She was having issues with the speed of their relationship, it was both too fast and too slow, so she’d taken some time for herself. And to try to deal with her mother, who’d started to call her. Plus, she knew it would drive Scotty nuts.
A groan of dismay and he hadn't even pressed the end call button yet. Scotty was left plaintively staring at the phone, like he knew that shipment had SCOTCH plastered all over it, and it was probably the best thing ever. Fail. Of the FML variety.
So that was, naturally, on his mind now. Of course, he's also wondering where Cassie was, because she had not come back yet from her 'oh I'm just going to be gone a while' outting, and instead she was taking - not a while - but forever. Which was fine, maybe she had some girl things to do, he reasoned, and he could keep himself occupied. With looking up technical manuals on the laptop. Huzzah for pdf's! He was in heaven. Seriously, going 'huh! that makes sense!' and everything.
Varric knew Scotty would be in for the scotch eventually. He'd make a big show of denying the man and even pour him a glass after the arguments and begging had gotten convoluted enough to make gymnasts get all tied up - which was a nice mental image indeed.
Cass needed time. There might even be a bit of coldfeetpanic going on in her head and in her stomach. She'd almost dialed a couple men but stopped herself at the last moment. She was in over her head and she knew it.
That begging might take a good long while to wait for. Scotty could be particularly stubborn. Gosh, Varric, don’t you know that by now?