(Untitled)

[hermajestysfury]

Sir Nicholas has, for the most part, remained upstairs. He has a lot to think about, to look over, to study. Most of the histories he has been reading (so strange, to think of his life as history) have been nothing like his world

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[acts_of_gord]

The armor gets an interested look for a moment. When your own armor is orange and grey, you haven't got a lot of call to be surprised at the color of what other people wear. Not that Gordon is wearing his at the moment; he's not allowed to take it past the entry point of Area C, and he's never yet made it to Milliways from anywhere but an outside door. He's just looking, for the moment.

[hermajestysfury]

"You might as well sit, if you are going to stare." Sir Nicholas says with a casual gesture of a knife bearing an apple slice. "I am Sir Nicholas Fury."

[acts_of_gord]

"Sorry," says Gordon. "I thought-"

Well, it was just an initial impression, not a thought. Hardly worth mentioning.

"Never mind." He settles into one of the chairs. "Gordon Freeman. Good to meet you."

[hermajestysfury]

"A good habit to get into, thinking." Sir Nicholas states with a faint smile, "A pleasure to meet you as well. Are you used to armored men?"

[acts_of_gord]

"You might say that," says Gordon. "I have to wear a suit of the stuff for my job. Different make, though."

To say the least.

"That was a custom piece of work, wasn't it."

[hermajestysfury]

"Of course." Sir Nicholas says, "Leather and chainmail, crafted special to my order."

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon nods. "Different than my own, then," he says. "Mine's more for surviving in hazardous environments, not combat."

After a moment he adds, "Still a fine piece of equipment."

[hermajestysfury]

After a faint pause, during which the older man sizes up the younger, Sir Nicholas says, "Do you not consider combat a hazardous environment?"

[acts_of_gord]

"I mean nobody's shooting at me," clarifies Gordon, "or stabbing me- but the suit'll keep me alive through fire, cold, poison, and radiation. Slight difference."

[hermajestysfury]

"Ah." Sir Nicholas says, nodding, "I am afraid that radiation is not a word I have used in such a manner. What is it that radiates which is dangerous?"

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon scratches his nose, thinking. "Um. Ever heard of a mineral called pitchblende?"

It's the oldest-known uranium ore he can think of, but he hasn't pegged this guy's time frame yet.

[hermajestysfury]

"I have not." Sir Nicholas admits, "But I am a soldier and not a sorcerer or scientist."

[acts_of_gord]

"All right," says Gordon. "To make this short, there are certain minerals that contain unstable elements. The atoms that make them up're structured in such a way that it's natural for them to come apart- the atoms, I mean- and disintegrate into particles of other minerals altogether. The energy released in the process sickens and kills living things. We call it radiation."

"... I probably ought to ask when you're from, come to think of it."

[hermajestysfury]

"The Year of Our Lord sixteen hundred and two." Sir Nicholas states, "And I venture to guess that you are from far in the future." Although probably not the same set of alternate worlds.

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon nods. "Two thousand and one," he says. "In a territory called New Mexico."

[hermajestysfury]

"I do not know of it." Sir Nicholas admits, "Two thousand and one...a very long time."