Some men see things as they are and ask why.
Who: Hazel and Open
What: Puttering around
Where: Hazel’s lab in the North
When: Sunday afternoon
Warnings: none
As fascinating as reality storms and giant robots are, Hazel knows enough about her behavioral patterns to know that if she doesn’t purposely make time to work on different projects, then she might become too hyper-focused. And besides being horrible for one’s social life, it also narrows the mind. Sometimes you just need to do something different in order to keep ideas fresh and new. And sane. Er… saner.
To that end, the Etherite is away from the computer and puttering about her main lab area. The big room has overhead lighting and a large garage-style door, currently open to let in natural light and fresh air. The walls are lined with counters and tool-stations, and there is a row of tables near the back set up as a basic chemistry station and a second one along the left wall holding various metallurgy projects in different stages. It is not too difficult, if you know to look, or what to look for, that she is crafting out of these pieces parts that resemble Cybertronian technology. In fact, her pile of notes have sketches and photos that she is seeking to imitate in steel and indicate that she is making a small scale model of the most common attributes among the Cybertronians. There is a car-lift in the open space and doors in the back lead to her computer-lab, a walk in freezer, and a storage room. Her bedroom and living space are off to the right.
With Green Day’s American Idiot CD playing loudly, Hazel sets up a temporary working station, laying out various sheets of steel and plastics and glass. The four white mice are in their cage, in a prime location to see what she is up to, just in case. There are tools scattered around her, but she doesn’t seem to be using them. Instead, she scans a piece of plastic with her hand held super computer.
“Secondary analysis reveals that this is plastic is not thermoset; this polymer is a thermoplastic, softened by low heat thresholds, such as human body heat. I can shape it by hand.” She begins to fold and bend the sheet into a long tube, with a slight curve to it, and then scans it again with her handheld, the color slowly changing, “By applying radiation, the color changes from clear to a tinted green.”
Seemingly alone in the building, who is she talking to? The mice? The lies come easily, the habits break hard. No Technocracy here to catch her doing ‘magic.’ No paradox spirits lurking in the wings to descend on any mage stupid enough to do a vulgar effect. She doesn’t even have to worry about hording quintessence and the ‘Bending’ phenomina of the place is resembles a more powerful effect of some of her own Sphere of Matter’s rotes. And yet, as she speaks, and it is clear that her words are a factor in the spell, she temporarily changes the strength of the plastic, and modifies other properties such as color.
Picking up a piece of steel, she scans it as well, this time saying, “Secondary analysis shows that this metal is an unusual alloy, more malleable than normal steel.” Anyone looking would be able to see the metal actually change, slightly, to a different kind. Using tools this time, she is able to shape the metal as if it were stiff tinfoil. Bit by bit, stopping to change each material subtly, Hazel starts putting together the basic set up of what is going to be a really cool rat cage that shares more similarities with a doll house or a play structure than a prison. With tunnels and wheels and little gadgetry tricks. And if some of the more electronic components are an indicator, the thing is going to be climate controlled.
With all the chaos of the city, she doesn’t expect any trouble, although visitors would be nice. After all, anyone dangerous has better things to worry about, right?
What: Puttering around
Where: Hazel’s lab in the North
When: Sunday afternoon
Warnings: none
As fascinating as reality storms and giant robots are, Hazel knows enough about her behavioral patterns to know that if she doesn’t purposely make time to work on different projects, then she might become too hyper-focused. And besides being horrible for one’s social life, it also narrows the mind. Sometimes you just need to do something different in order to keep ideas fresh and new. And sane. Er… saner.
To that end, the Etherite is away from the computer and puttering about her main lab area. The big room has overhead lighting and a large garage-style door, currently open to let in natural light and fresh air. The walls are lined with counters and tool-stations, and there is a row of tables near the back set up as a basic chemistry station and a second one along the left wall holding various metallurgy projects in different stages. It is not too difficult, if you know to look, or what to look for, that she is crafting out of these pieces parts that resemble Cybertronian technology. In fact, her pile of notes have sketches and photos that she is seeking to imitate in steel and indicate that she is making a small scale model of the most common attributes among the Cybertronians. There is a car-lift in the open space and doors in the back lead to her computer-lab, a walk in freezer, and a storage room. Her bedroom and living space are off to the right.
With Green Day’s American Idiot CD playing loudly, Hazel sets up a temporary working station, laying out various sheets of steel and plastics and glass. The four white mice are in their cage, in a prime location to see what she is up to, just in case. There are tools scattered around her, but she doesn’t seem to be using them. Instead, she scans a piece of plastic with her hand held super computer.
“Secondary analysis reveals that this is plastic is not thermoset; this polymer is a thermoplastic, softened by low heat thresholds, such as human body heat. I can shape it by hand.” She begins to fold and bend the sheet into a long tube, with a slight curve to it, and then scans it again with her handheld, the color slowly changing, “By applying radiation, the color changes from clear to a tinted green.”
Seemingly alone in the building, who is she talking to? The mice? The lies come easily, the habits break hard. No Technocracy here to catch her doing ‘magic.’ No paradox spirits lurking in the wings to descend on any mage stupid enough to do a vulgar effect. She doesn’t even have to worry about hording quintessence and the ‘Bending’ phenomina of the place is resembles a more powerful effect of some of her own Sphere of Matter’s rotes. And yet, as she speaks, and it is clear that her words are a factor in the spell, she temporarily changes the strength of the plastic, and modifies other properties such as color.
Picking up a piece of steel, she scans it as well, this time saying, “Secondary analysis shows that this metal is an unusual alloy, more malleable than normal steel.” Anyone looking would be able to see the metal actually change, slightly, to a different kind. Using tools this time, she is able to shape the metal as if it were stiff tinfoil. Bit by bit, stopping to change each material subtly, Hazel starts putting together the basic set up of what is going to be a really cool rat cage that shares more similarities with a doll house or a play structure than a prison. With tunnels and wheels and little gadgetry tricks. And if some of the more electronic components are an indicator, the thing is going to be climate controlled.
With all the chaos of the city, she doesn’t expect any trouble, although visitors would be nice. After all, anyone dangerous has better things to worry about, right?