"Christ Jesus, did you drag your whole life out here with you?" Wyn says by way of greeting, giving the mess around her friend a highly skeptical look. She delicately shoves a blue box out of the way before she flops into one of the chairs, crossing her arms and giving Billy an expectant look. What you're doing looks interesting, Billy; care to share what it is?
"'My life' barely survived the trip here", he counters playfully, looking over at Wyn. She seemed to want something specific from him, but he couldn't honestly think of what that might be, and that was a reason to be worried.
"Have I forgotten something that I was supposed to give you? I've been busy lately, and certain things have slipped off my radar. That's partially what brought me to this point."
"And that's why you ask people for help. I've been looking for an excuse to field-test my apportation rig..." Wyn says with an affectionate roll of her eyes. "... or, y'know, I could do it the normal-person way." she adds hastily, unsure of whether or not Billy would like his boxes submitted to a very minor warping of the space-time continuum.
"Not... unless I'm missing something. You gave me the jukebox, remember?"
"I did. I'm glad you liked it," he says with a grin.
But wait---Wyn, you've just seized Billy's attention. "Apportation rig? I'd be honored to help you test it, if we have the chance. How has it functioned so far?"
Wyn thinks for a moment before answering. "With small, solid, non-moving objects being moved extremely short distances? Very well, actually. With anything more complex than, say, a book, or something in motion, or being forced to move it farther than a couple of meters? ... the code's in need of refinement, let's put it that way." she admits, slightly sheepishly.
"Define 'extremely short'", he asks. "Could you move...say, a tennis ball across this room? To that table? I've partially constructed teleportation technology before, with some knowledge of your starting point I may be able to help you. What happens if you overload its capability?"
"Tennis balls are hollow, so... to the table, yes; across the room, no. And overloading hurts." Wyn says with a wince, unclasping two silver-wire cuffs from her wrists. Although they appeared to be solid when she was wearing them, the bracelets easily flatten out once they're placed on a table.
Billy flinches as the cuffs flatten, imagining a similar effect on a living being. "Ouch. Is the problem the power source, the processing, a combination, something else, or unknown? Maybe we can narrow it down. My system, for example, was able to teleport multiple people over long distances at once, but it had a near-infinite power source backing it up."
"The... programming, I guess you'd call it, is the issue." Wyn starts to play with the component wires of her bracelets, pulling loops out farther than she should reasonably be able to. "I've been adjusting it as much as possible, but the spell itself is a part of the focus so it's kind of ridiculously difficult and I think I'm going to have to scrap this iteration and start over entirely." Her expression gives away just how much she does not want to do this, but if she has to she will.
Starting from scratch is a painful process that Billy is all too familiar with. He briefly squeezes her shoulder in commiseration. "Hey, we don't know that you'll have to start over yet. I'm definitely not an expert in the use of magic, but you have me and other crew members to bounce ideas off of. And if you do start over, there are some plans in the preliminary stages that I can share with you."
Guessing that she might want to change the subject, he offers her an out: "Other than that, how have you been?"
"Are you sure you don't mind? Because I think if you ever let me get started on idea-bouncing I'll never shut up, and I know everyone else is busy. ... except maybe Caden. I could always just rant at him, I suppose." Somewhere in the middle of that ramble, Wyn leans over and very gently smacks her head against the table in front of her.
"I've been doing fairly well! Bit tired lately, but other than that I've been fine." Wyn says, perking back up at the subject change. "And yourself? You're pretty busy, it looks like."
"I'm sure. I've brainstormed my own ideas with others for excruciatingly long periods of time. I'll just grab a helping of slop and make sure we sit in a comfortable place," he grins.
That table-smack concerns him. "Oh...yeah. I haven't exactly slept well either, but the workload doesn't excuse itself when I'm not in peak condition. I've worked in similar conditions before, though," he hastily tacks on to preempt any worrying.
"You too, huh?" Wyn will worry about you if she wants to, Billy. "I hope this isn't a sign we're getting sick, because that's the last thing the ship needs spread around." she says, shaking her head. The truth is, of course, a bit more sinister than a cold.
"I thought we were all purged of diseases in podsleep," Billy grimaces. He doesn't like to dwell on the many creepy things that may have been done to his unconscious body. "Do you think we caught a disease on the mission? I'll have to ask about that."
It definitely isn't the most scientifically accurate of methods, but he is compelled to place a hand against her forehead---more of a familiar gesture of normalcy than an attempt to gain information. "Admittedly I don't have a baseline, but you don't feel unusually warm. I'd recommend that we both undergo scanning for illnesses, though."
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"Have I forgotten something that I was supposed to give you? I've been busy lately, and certain things have slipped off my radar. That's partially what brought me to this point."
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"Not... unless I'm missing something. You gave me the jukebox, remember?"
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But wait---Wyn, you've just seized Billy's attention. "Apportation rig? I'd be honored to help you test it, if we have the chance. How has it functioned so far?"
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Guessing that she might want to change the subject, he offers her an out: "Other than that, how have you been?"
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"I've been doing fairly well! Bit tired lately, but other than that I've been fine." Wyn says, perking back up at the subject change. "And yourself? You're pretty busy, it looks like."
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That table-smack concerns him. "Oh...yeah. I haven't exactly slept well either, but the workload doesn't excuse itself when I'm not in peak condition. I've worked in similar conditions before, though," he hastily tacks on to preempt any worrying.
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It definitely isn't the most scientifically accurate of methods, but he is compelled to place a hand against her forehead---more of a familiar gesture of normalcy than an attempt to gain information. "Admittedly I don't have a baseline, but you don't feel unusually warm. I'd recommend that we both undergo scanning for illnesses, though."
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