Okay, cool. Dean had been on the island for exactly a week now, and so far he was still more or less sane. This probably had something to do with the way he'd managed to avoid actually meeting any of the students yet, granted. But for the time being? Sane
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"Self-explanatory, huh?" Dean was smirking as he nodded toward his own coffee mug. "The stuff of life, kids. Trust me. You'll understand someday."
Like, as soon as they made it to college. Especially if they went on to art school.
"Okay, your turns. Let's see your work, hear your names, and learn a little something about what you put together, there."
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She set a fresh, steaming cup of coffee on a nearby desk, then held her work for the day over it. A big paper fan stuck off one end on a scissor axle, spinning slowly thanks to the steam rising off the coffee, setting off a chain reaction of little wound paper belts and posterboard-covered-in-car-ads gears.
"It doesn't actually do anything other than spin." She shrugged. "And, you know, look kinda neat."
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"Well, this is art class," he pointed out, walking over to get a better look. "Looking 'kinda neat' is one of those things that comes in kind of handy with this sort of thing, you know?"
He watched the whole thing at work for another moment before glancing up at her.
"So, you're some kind of mechanic, I'm guessing?"
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Oh yeah. He was impressed.
"Not so sure about the hacking part," mostly since he had no idea that it existed in a computing sense, "but the cobbling parts are going to come in handy this semester for you, I think. A lot of what we're doing is going to involve a bunch of bits that aren't going to fit together at all, at first."
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She'd always been the more hands-on of the physics geniuses in her family.
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She had lots of practice, thanks to Jamie's mostly nonsensical lists from last semester.
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"... You know any good place to pick up a couple rolls of chicken wire?"
That was not as random a request as it sounded. Honest.
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"That sounds kind of useful," he admitted as he shook himself out of it. "You're going to have to forgive me, I'm fresh out of the fifties. But... internet?"
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"Well, uh. It's basically this giant network of computers. . . ." She trailed off, then decided to go a different route and pulled her laptop out of her bag instead. "Here, I can show you." She called up Google and did a general search for chicken wire, then turned the laptop so Dean could see.
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Mind = Blown. Dean was going to need more coffee for this. Between the size of the computer itself, and just how much information he was staring at, all about chicken wire, would anybody really blame him?
"So people just... type what they want, and it shows up in that little box there, and then you get... all of that?"
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Because that was totally going to help with the blown mind situation.
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"It's spitting out results as fast as you can type," Dean noted, trying, oh, he was trying, to be casual about this. It still wasn't working so well for him. "Chicken parmesan is pretty popular these days, huh?"
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