He really wants tae try it, an' thinks it'll work.
Who: Gaila Scotty What: Lover's Tiff. Discussing the moon shot! When: Yesterday Where: Mad Monty's! Rating: PG-13, Language Status: Complete
Having just gotten people to post up strutting owl troll gifs, Scotty was reveling. Reveling was currently him bouncing up and down on the couch, with both arms raised up like YAY! He had to stop to catch the laptop before it fell over off his knees, but then was back to YAY again! Win!
Cass had snuck in, and watched Scotty bounce. She winced, and feared for the laptop, “Careful!”
Scotty just about threw the laptop onto the floor..
“DUNNAE YELL! Ye startled me. Oh, by the way, lovely lass? I'm goin' tae goooo tae the moon. Just lettin' ye know in case I'm gone. Cheeeeerrrrsss!” Yay cheering with both arms raised up over his head right now!
“You're retardiated.”
“Nuh uh. It's true.” He nodded. “That I'm goin' tae go, not that I'm retardiated.”
“To the moon.” Cass pointed up.
“Aye. Moon.” Scotty pointed up.
“You’ll die.”
“Quite possibly! But it'll be FUN TRYING!” He grinnged, vibrantly, because he has totally been smacked with that 3455xp worth of pep talk that Kirk dished out.
“Fine.” She shook her head, “I get your crap if you die.”
“Considering I've got some t-shirts an' trousers, workboots, old socks, and a whole lot of tools? Aye, ye can have at it. I'm takin' me grandfather's pocketwatch and goggles with me, so if we explode, they're gonnae go with me.” He dismissively waved a hand like it was fine. Whatever.
“What about the workshop?”
“Well, Varric still owns half of this place, so...maybe ye take the half I have, an' turn it intae....computer repairs?” Now she was just getting shrugged at, and he was right back to looking at schematics. Mmm, plasma propulsion!
“..how does that even work?”
“Oh this? Simple, ye burn off this gas here an' that converts it tae plasma an' it goes through here and...VROOM. Or ZOOM. Either way, it's much faster than conventional methods. Point is, tae make this even faster.”
“Uhm...What about g-forces?” Far as she knew they’d get smushed into paste.
“Well ye need conventional rockets tae get up out of the atmosphere, an' then ye can use this. So it wouldnae be any worse than, say, if we'd gone on the space shuttle. These really aren't effective for take offs or the likes. Besides, it's so preliminary, they're dragging their arses just testing it.” Scotty made an ‘eh!’ noise like they were progressing too slowly for his tastes.
She found herself getting into it more and more, but tried to hide her excitement, “Well if you accelerate slowly enough..wouldn't that require recalculating the travel path, since you'll be going faster than expected?”
“Aye. There's equations for the rockets, an' I'm sure with someone who's more familiar with orbits an' such, could get there precisely without, ye know, missing the target,” and he proceeded to prattle on and on for a while, about exhaust velocity and impulse variables and thrust, lift and total mass, and propellants.
Cass listened intently, trying to envision how that would look in a computer program. She wasn’t totally clueless, and understood more than she thought she’d would.
“Of course,” he finished up, “this' just one way I'm looking at. I mean, it's not like I could use exotic matter or the likes. Either way, ye want tae help? Ye could program stuff.”
“I'm not that smart, Scotty, not on this level. I don't think so.” But she knew what she could do with the numbers if she had them, “But if I had the numbers already crunched I can program them in. Maybe even make a program to help with the crunching.”
“Oh, there'll be numbers supplied. Dunnae worry over that. So I take it that's an affirmative, then? Brilliant!” Insert the \o/ cheering of yayness arms raised over his head, here.
“I never said I would!”
Scotty was not stopping. He is still very much \o/ and showing no signs of stopping yet.
“Tae late! It'll be fun! I'll stuff ye in a cargo hatch, so ye can gae as well!” He was just going to sit there like \o/ and go :D at her. Lass, how could you deny how fun it would be and death defying and thus proving him right about everything he doesn't know is really true yet, but someday he can maybe make it work without exploding stuff! See? “...” Yep, still \o/
“I'm not going to the moon! You don't need a computer programmer! Take a..geologist or something.”
“What for? It's made out of dust.” He still had both arms held up, though they were slowly lowering. “Are ye scared? Well, dust and moony rocks. Still. Ye scared, arenae yeeeeeew!”
He pointed at her and smiled like his face might crack in two, if he smiled any harder.
“I'm not scared!” She thumped him on the arm for emphasis, “I just don't want to blow up! What about weight?”
“I'll say I'd brought along a very large case of ramen noodles? How's this. IF it works an' we dunnae die, fantastically mind ye, then would ye be willing tae travel tae Mars with us? Blame Kirk, he started it.”
“..Mars?” Cass shook her head, “Only if you can’t get anyone else.”
“Well, ye kinda need a somewhat larger crew for that. Merely suggesting.”
Damn it. Part of her was interested, but enclosed space with Kirk and Scotty for months? she’d have to bring a gun. To shoot herself, “Logistics?”
He’d wonder what she meant by thinking that, if he had psychic powers. Good thing he doesn’t! Instead, he’s just kinda answering her question. “Logistics? Sort of like a nightmare, I'd suppose. Just tae organize it, for that matter.”
“Well you'll need food and water for the crew, systems to recycle waste, other supplies, and then we'll probably be stuck on Mars until we find the right window to head back.”
“Well if ye think about it, there, with the waste recycling, they have those in off-the-grid houses, already. Ye can even recycle water, I mean...if Los Angeles is working on ways tae recycle water from flushed toilets so it's drinkable, there's got tae be something small scale that can be rigged up, so we aren't gagging on our own piss an' eating turds by the time one gets tae Mars.” Which? Eww. He made a face like he was about ready to gag right then, just thinking about it. “The other thing is, if I could find a fast enough way tae travel, an' make a whole new engine, then the window would be obsolete other than finding the best course tae get back by. An' that's why we'd need a scientist. Number cruncher. Person.”
“I could write a program to take track of all that, and all the variables. The moon mission could be a small scale test.” Despite herself she was definitely sounding interested.
“Aye! That'd be a huge help. Plus, for helping, an' if we made it tae the moon, an' just ran a wee robot there while we jump up an' down an' yell 'HI MUM' an' stuff? That's thirty million dollars. Even split between us, that's a fair amount. AND? We can use it tae fund the Mars thing.” He gave her a jaunty thumb’s up!
She started to look up the X-prize, “We get more money if we go above and beyond. Like 5,000 meters on the moon. You really want to do this? Can you?”
“It says nothing about actually going THERE either, so imagine the publicity THAT would be,” he replied, in such a way that it was like there should be no doubt about it, whatsoever. Of course, he also had to add, “I think it's bloody insane. But, I also think it's possible. That, an' we have a pilot. That Hiaku Sulu laddie. And, besides, it's Kirk.”
Scotty tilted his head to one side and rolled his eyes, because it’s not like Kirk seemed to understand the meaning of the word NO or anything.
“What the hell can he do? He’s not smart like you.”
“Uh...huh...well...I dunnae know...precisely...but it was his idea an' he's organizing everything, really. He really wants tae try it, an' thinks it'll work.”
“But he's..dumb!”
“He's not so bad. Just ambitious. Nothing wrong with that, really.”
“I mean he's just a dumb kid who acts like he's still 12.”
“Oh, really?” Scotty folded both arms over his chest, slouching down into the couch. “I thought ye fancied him.”
“He's hot, that doesn't make him boyfriend material.” Not anything long term at least.
She was rewarded with a small, scoffing ‘huh’ noise as he exhaled. “Maybe ye shouldae stuck around then, this morning. After all, he was in bed with me.”
“I mean I'd ..you know..if he probably hadn't you know with every third woman he's come across. ….What? Well I still might you know him, if thats what you want!”
Scotty’s eyelids looked heavy-lidded and his entire countenance was profoundly unenthused looking. Seriously, he could not. make. that face. hard enough. at her.
“He's paying me in Scottish beer. I'm not going tae say NO to that, and I already told him that I'd join in. He organizes it? I'm in. The only things I'd like, are tae build the bloody thing and then stand on the moon just once. For starters. Why else dae ye think I'd applied an' sent proposals tae NASA?”
“He'll want to be first on both rocks.”
“Nothing wrong with that, either. I dunnae need tae step foot on it first, I'd just like tae get there. Tae see if it can be done an' then thumb me nose at NASA. And Texas.”
“Maybe what you do will lead to other breakthroughs? I mean, anything long term on either Mars or the Moon would require a way to synthesize water and air from the local materials. That could be useful back here, especially in deserts.” And lucrative.
“Aye, but I dunnae think we're talking about setting up shop. That's why I have tae work on some things that are...really a lot faster than what they're still using, now.” Though he was still slouched and still had his arms folded over himself, now he looked like he was deeply mulling things over. If he had been a cartoon, several lightbulbs would have been lighting up, one by one, hovering overhead.
“Still, if you don't do it, someone else will take the baton from you.”
“I can rig up some things, aye. I mean, Mars...even if I did manage tae...say...cut the travel time down from a year tae two months, or even ONE month, there'd have tae be things in place tae handle that. Every base would have tae be covered.”
She smirked, watching him get more and more excited by the technical aspect, “I'll bet you're getting a woody just thinking about it.”
Scotty grinned over at her. “How'd ye know?”
She pointed at his lap.
He looked down, looked back up at her, and tilted his nose into the air, defiantly. It was as though he didn’t know what she was talking about, but it was clearly madness and insanity, and he is just going to cover up things just in case as a preliminary measure (and to make her laugh), which is why he slowly dragged a couch cushion over his lap.
Trollwin!
You win nothing! His face says so! This is to prove the un-win, “So. Why'd ye leave this morning without saying anything?”
He raised his eyebrows like HMM? WHY WAS THAT?
“I don't know what you're talking about.” She tilted her head.
“This morning. Ye zonked out after..ahem...then I went tae bed and ye looked so comfy I dinnae want tae wake ye up. So this morning, when Kirk had, ye know, snuck intae bed with me an' gave me a wee cuddle, I realized that someone had snuck out.”
Scotty lobbed a challenging mini-glower at her, and then things got snarky, “Why'd ye come back here then? Forget ye knickers?”
“Laptop.”
He reached over, plopped the lid SHUT, and then held it out to her.
Oh for the...”I was joking.” She shoved it back, “I got a connection on the terminal I built up. I can't really see pictures or hear audio, but I can still get text.” She’s had enough charity lately. She sat next to him to try to reassure him.
He eyed her suspiciously, wondering if she was giving it back to him as some sort of parting gift. But that was just a silly thought and he was trying to squash it down as something irrational. She didn’t want it, so he then had a couch cushion and the laptop as a protective barrier, with both hands placed on top of it. And, just so he wouldn’t further worry, he decided to take the blunt approach.
“Did ye get scared off because of...ahem...ye know...what we did?”
That wall looks so interesting. It does need a cleaning however, “Yes.”
Oh that wasn’t making things look good. He even had a very pinched expression like that hurt a bit, but aimed his gaze straight ahead, and looked like he was thinking about very important space things. He really wasn’t, at least, not at that moment.
“Do ye not want tae do that again, then?” He suddenly shrugged one shoulder, sharply, even though she wasn’t looking. “I mean, that's not really up tae me.”
“Can an answer be both yes and no?” She looked at him finally, “Because that’s how I feel.”
Scotty pressed his lips together until they were in a very thin, very pinched line. There was a long moment of silence and deliberation, before he sullenly stated, “Aye, that's fine. If its how ye feel, that's how ye feel. So. Did ye ever drop that chainsaw off?”
“Scotty...”
He closed his eyes, but even before his eyelids had clamped downward, it was pretty obvious that he was in mid-eyeroll. There it was, the beginning of the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech. In one form or another.
“It freaks me out. This. Us.”
“And I suppose, you think...” And yes, he pronunciated, slowly, so the smoothest of brains could understand. You are in for it now, missy! “...that just because you’re freaked out, that NO ONE ELSE WOULD BE? Shite. Excuse me while I remove meself from orbiting around the big bright shiny special thing ye are.”
Driest of the dry stares? She’s getting it now.
“I'm not special! For fuck's sake, Scotty! I'm not some special precious pure thing!” She was who she was! Like popeye!
“Well, then maybe ye shouldnae just be thinking OOOH NEEEW I'M SO SCARED AND FREAKED OUT all the time, because maybe it isnae just YEEEW,” was the snarky response, while making a face that made it be plainly known his hackles were raised.
“Fuck off.”
“ME? Oh nooo, ye can fuck AFF.”
Oh great, saying stuff that couldn’t be taken back. Naturally, since the tendency to shoot one’s mouth off was as strong as the need to be right, in this one. He bounced up and down on the couch a few times to get the frustration out, then - when that didn’t work - got up and started to walk off. Walking it off now! Best thing to do during a blow up. Walk it off, go work on something, have a drink later and cool off, some.
“This is why I don't...do things with friends!”
Oh no she dinnit! He was already heading out the door and down the stairs, and showed no signs of stopping. Instead, he yelled back, “WE WERENAE FRIENDS BEFORE!”
She looked genuinely surprised, “I thought we were.”
“Aye!” It was at this point that he reminded himself that it wasn’t exactly true, they’d had a like hate thing before, covered up entirely by a hate thing. Perhaps it was best to try to be a little diplomatic, even if his blood was boiling. “But...then...ye know things happened anyway even if we were not an'....STOP MAKING SHITE COMPLICATED WHEN IT DUNNAE NEED TAE BE!
And there went diplomacy, with a boot to it’s diplomatic face. Speaking of faces, his face was scrunched up like >.<
He was on a roll. No use stopping now. That’s right! Oooo, you girly type...creature thing! I AM POINTING UPSTAIRS NOW! GRAWRR FINGER POINT! “Another thing...WE HAVENAE DUN ANYTHING LIKE FUCKING, ANYWAYS!”
Cass looked agahst, “You call last night not fucking?!”
“....that's just ORAL sex, it's not like...actual...YE KNOW WHAT I MEAN!”
“Who are you, Bill Clinton?”
“WHY AM I TALKING ABOUT THIS? IT IS RIDICULOUS! AND AYE, THAT'S RIGHT! I'M BILL FUCKING CLINTON! CIGARS DUNNAE COUNT EITHER! SILLY AMERICANS!”
“I'm sure he's good in the sack then, if you're fucking him.”
“MIDDLE NAME, NOT ME FUCKING BILL CLINTON! PLACEMENT! AGHGHHH! DID YE NOT SEE IT WAS IN THE MIDDLE THERE?!”
Scotty stopped on the last step, since there were no more steps to stomp down, and grasped hold of his face with both hands. Before, ya know, it exploded or something.
Cass growled, and threw a pillow at him. Then started to program something into his computer. Involving gay porn
Scotty’s feet had just left the last step when FWOOMP, he was nearly knocked over with a pillow. He glowered at the pillow and snatched it. Stompy feet stomped up the stairs, and FWOOMP there goes the pillow, thrown back into the room. “Stop that.”
Waitaminute! Nyuh oh. Why was she typing away furiously on the laptop like that? “Cassie!”
Glare. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Liar! Lemme see that. Ye're probably up tae something.” Scotty’s new name is going to be Squinty McSquint if he keeps squint glaring at her like that.
All that was about to change. He stopped squinting, and told himself that when there was a problem, you fix it. And even if it wasn’t an easy solution, sometimes the best way to fix something was by keeping it simple, or improvising. He was about to test that theory out, holding up both hands like he was gesturing for peace and not to be shot at. His mouth opened, and out goes the words, like verbal diarrhea. Of the sort his dear old mum would’ve given him a harsh looking at, over.
“Ye dunnae want tae be scared by anything? Fine. Work on the project, that's all. Nothing else. I'll e-mail ye once we get a number cruncher. G'day, lass.”
Seeing as how he was fully prepared for her to go running off, or be flighty, or be more interested in someone else eventually, he was prepared for some amount of hurt to be included in the equation as it was. No better time than the present? He stubbornly folded both arms over his chest like he was bolstering a defensive barrier against an onslaught, and just...accepted it. Bitterly and inwardly.
“I'm not up to anything.” Just a mild form of revenge, could do worse, but...she got up, “I don't want it to be LIKE that! You drive me nuts, whether I'm with you or not!”
“Is that so? Then ye can try the not end of the spectrum an' see if that will soothe ye frayed nerves.” Someone was stubbornly not budging, either in his stance or his decision. He knew he was going to regret it, later. “Gae figure out what ye want, an' then get back tae me when ye've thought about it. An' take that with ye or I'll blow torch it.”
She nearly threw the laptop at him.
He had given her a terse smile after mentioning that blow torch, but he didn’t bat an eye or anything. Instead, he simply felt rotten inside, like someone was twisting a dull knife into his gut. Even so, he wasn’t backing down. Maybe, he figured, it was wht she wanted and she was just not saying it. In which case, it was better to nip things in the bud, so they could just have a working relationship and she wouldn’t feel compelled to run off all the time, if she felt things were getting big and scary. Needs must, and all that.
Scotty raised his eyebrows a little. The look of it was like he was waiting, impatiently. If his facial language could speak actual words, it would have been ’Well? You have just been...not really dumped...but essentially that. Yep.'
She glared at him, then as if to rub in what he was getting rid of, walked over to him. She kissed, deeply, with tongue and electricity and fire, then squeezed past him and walked out the door. She refused to run.
That just made the old resolve waver. He stood there for a few more seconds after she had squeezed past him, and inhaled like he needed to breath and he had just remembered how to, for that matter. At first, he looked a little angry, but then that faded to feeling wretched, instead. Even if he thought it was the right thing to do and if it was for the best.
Or was it? Suddenly it didn’t feel quite so right. No. Couldn’t allow himself to think that, or he’d go chasing after her again, and maybe she didn’t want to be chased. It seemed to be - at least in his mind - what she wanted. He needed a nice drink, because that would be lovely, and then to think about ways to get himself a real computer to do work on and research on...and...and...just work.