i'll show you mine [CLOSED, ACTIVE]
Characters: Dick Simmons [huptwo] and Nathan McNeill [dislimb]
Setting/Location: McNeill's room
Date & Time: Day 15 [?! or at least sometime before they go underwater]
Warnings: Extreme nerding
Summary: Simmons goes to give McNeill an idea of what he's getting himself into.
Simmons had to admit, he was kind of excited for this.
Kind of being the understatement of the century, of course. The idea of constructing a working robotic hand for someone sent thrills down what used to be his spine. They hadn't even finished their conversation before Simmons had raided his room for a pencil and some paper, busily drawing out a ridiculously complicated diagram that he would have called a rough draft with extreme distaste. It was a shame they didn't have an AutoCAD system on this thing but there was something satisfying about drawing it on his own.
The tricky part would be working with the parts on the caravan. His own arm and hand were all built from titanium parts specifically built for the purpose they currently served. While he was sure he could improvise and adapt parts to the end goal of a hand, it would take a lot of testing to make sure it worked correctly.
But that came later. Now he had to see what he was working with on the human end of this equation. Simmons didn't feel confident in his ability to hook the hand onto this man's body, but hopefully it wouldn't be as complex and life-threatening for the guy as he figured it might be.
He'd see. Diagrams tucked under his arm he reached up to knock on the door in front of him with his other hand, ignoring just how weird it was to be out of his armor again. Christ, thank god his allergies had stopped acting up. "It's Simmons." He called out for good measure, in case McNeill had expected someone else today.
Setting/Location: McNeill's room
Date & Time: Day 15 [?! or at least sometime before they go underwater]
Warnings: Extreme nerding
Summary: Simmons goes to give McNeill an idea of what he's getting himself into.
Simmons had to admit, he was kind of excited for this.
Kind of being the understatement of the century, of course. The idea of constructing a working robotic hand for someone sent thrills down what used to be his spine. They hadn't even finished their conversation before Simmons had raided his room for a pencil and some paper, busily drawing out a ridiculously complicated diagram that he would have called a rough draft with extreme distaste. It was a shame they didn't have an AutoCAD system on this thing but there was something satisfying about drawing it on his own.
The tricky part would be working with the parts on the caravan. His own arm and hand were all built from titanium parts specifically built for the purpose they currently served. While he was sure he could improvise and adapt parts to the end goal of a hand, it would take a lot of testing to make sure it worked correctly.
But that came later. Now he had to see what he was working with on the human end of this equation. Simmons didn't feel confident in his ability to hook the hand onto this man's body, but hopefully it wouldn't be as complex and life-threatening for the guy as he figured it might be.
He'd see. Diagrams tucked under his arm he reached up to knock on the door in front of him with his other hand, ignoring just how weird it was to be out of his armor again. Christ, thank god his allergies had stopped acting up. "It's Simmons." He called out for good measure, in case McNeill had expected someone else today.