thebastion | Day 298 (Open)

Entry tags:

Day 298 (Open)

Who: Colin Starfury, and anyone else who wants in.
Open: You bet'cha
When: Day 298, all day
Where: In various places around the Bastion
What: Keeping the moving parts moving
Format: Starting with prose, but good for whatever.
Warnings: Colin. Also, Colin's still fairly surly. Also, PUNS.

Ever since the time travel revelations a few weeks back, Colin has pretty much devoted himself entirely to his work. With Yukio's disappearance, that devotion has expanded into areas where Colin would normally not tread. When he's not been working on practical problems and projects, he's been studying. To say that he hasn't made much of an effort to seek out social interaction is something of an understatement.

Today is no exception. After the morning chores Colin immediately retreats to his workshop where he sets to work on repairing the mechanical Pyth that had been so badly damaged before. It's looking much better now, perhaps almost ready to be reactivated. He's going to need a large shard for that, though...

Shortly before lunch, Colin leaves the workshop and heads to the monument. The holographic information terminal is his destination, and he's going to spend a half an hour or so working on it. It hasn't seen as much use as he'd hoped it would, but he supposes that's not terribly surprising. Most people probably don't even know what it is, and he can't change that without making it intrusive, thus defeating the purpose of making it approachable in the first place.

When he's done with that, and after grabbing some lunch, Colin will return to his workshop to finish one of the jobs he's been eager to finish for quite some time. The flying craft that they'd brought back from the observatory just needs a few final touch-ups, and then it will be ready to go. He's tested this thing thoroughly, made improvements where he'd seen fit, and replaced any number of outdated technological concepts with things that will work better and more efficiently. It doesn't even look Caelondian any more. Which is probably for the best, given that it's going to be the fastest way to get to the Ura settlement from here on out, to say nothing of any other destination on the Skyway.

If anyone feels like bothering him at any point in the day, he's certainly not going to turn down the company.

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This probably isn't the first time Colin has noticed River sidling up to his workshop, but she usually keeps just enough of a distance to make conversation awkward--and to make it evident that she isn't interested.

As he comes back to work on the flying machine, she seems to have changed her mind for today.

"One person isn't a crew."

"Sadly, no," he says, stepping in to the workshop and heading over to the wall to start gathering tools. "Unfortunately, we seem to be lacking in qualified crew here."

He gives her a curious look for just a moment, but he doesn't press the matter. After their interactions with Nathan and Azula, he's long since decided that if River wants to open up about things she'll do it in her own due time and there's probably not much use in pressing the matter.

"Trying to be," she says. "Engineer, pilot, medic... public relations." The last is said with a hint of sarcasm.

She leans down, as though she's trying to check underneath the thing for stray cats. "It won't fit."

"They try to keep me away from diplomats for a reason," Colin says wanly. "Sadly, I don't really have much of a choice. Well, I could leave, but... well, this place has advantages, and like it or not, the people here have needed my skills."

There's no arrogance to that statement. The memories of the plague, the relations with the Gasfella, the radio tower and the farms all flash across his mind briefly.

"Can't help it when I have access to the skills that people need," he says.

"Got choices. Nice to be indispensable, if you can believe it."

She shuts her eyes for a moment and presses her hand to the floor in the way that doesn't really give her any momentum to straighten back to her feet. She just stands.

"It would be nicer to be a cog in a smooth-running machine," Colin says, sighing as he starts setting out tools by the aircraft. "If I'm going to be indispensable, I want it where I can do the most good. I belong in an engine room, not a farm or a hospital."

The annoyance behind those words is impossible to mask. He wants to be getting his hands dirty with machinery bigger than he is, and he absolutely hates being land-bound...

"Ever asked it for a picture of itself? Could be nothing but a mirror, no self to know about. Only bouncing back what you put in."

She reaches out to touch the flying machine. "Reflection's not the same anyway."

Colin tries to follow her statements, and he thinks he's got it, but he also suspects that she's talking on a level beyond what he consciously realizes. He shakes his head then, and he also reaches up to rest a hand on the craft's wing.

"Maybe not, but sometimes, you've gotta take what you can get," he says, his tone full of longing. "As for the rest... I'm afraid I don't follow your meaning. Way too many things I could say here that would likely be dead wrong."

She turns her head to give him a wry smile. "Hard to be wrong when you're dead."

The smile quickly fades as does her focus. "Simon's coming," she says, without much certainty.

"Hard to be a lot of things when you're dead," Colin says, giving her an equally wry smile right back. "My family manages."

He tilts his head slightly then, watching her reaction. "Need to talk about anything?" he asks. He doesn't figure she's the sort to open up to a stranger, but it rarely hurts to make the offer.

River continues talking, mostly to herself, as she drags her hand along the hull. Her fingers seem to be looking for purchase.

"It might take some time, that's all. He's not very smart, but got love. No reason in the 'verse why he wouldn't."

"Fortunately, time is one of those things we can't easily run out of," he says. "So yeah, you're not wrong there."

Whether or not this 'Simon' is actually alive is a question for someone else to guess. Colin doesn't think anything of either survival or death. As of this moment, he's Schrodinger's Simon.

The ship has plenty of places to get a good grip, between wings, exhaust ports, and a boarding ladder hooked onto the cockpit.

Still, she grabs on and lets go again until she gets to the ladder and then she stops.

"She's been here before, but only an act, still just an act. Think about fading away from their lives as if they're going to go on living without her. No proof without the observation."

"Even then," he says. "Observations can be spoofed, and realities are limitless."

He crouches down to inspect something that caught his eye on the ship. "Take nothing for certain until you've got it in your hands," he says as he works at fixing it.

"Hands can lie," River points out. "Tell you it's real and solid. Doesn't make it true."

"Anything can lie," Colin says right back. "Being able to recognize the truth is up to you. Even numbers and laws can lie in the right circumstances."

River doesn't respond to that. Instead she states, "There's a screw loose in the cockpit hatch."

"I've often been told more than one," Colin says, smiling. He moves to inspect the cockpit, and he glances at her. "Thank you for your assistance. I'm always glad to have a second, or even third, set of eyes checking stuff out."

Even if he's gathered that she's not all there, that doesn't change the fact that she thinks. It's just that she thinks different from other people.

"Well, the cockpit is empty."

Simple observation? Could be, but probably not.

"The cockpit's never empty," Colin says, smiling. "Sometimes, it's just not what you expect to see there."

"It's empty," she maintains loftily even as she's climbing up the ladder into the ship's cockpit.

When River reaches the cockpit, she'll find a setup quite unlike any typical aircraft. Colin's customized this ship to his liking, and the only recognizable displays are speed and altitude gauges. Otherwise, there are several blank screens which, presumably, will show the information that Colin wants.

"Lacking a pilot?" Colin asks, watching her now, the portion of work he was doing momentarily paused. "Or simply a commentary on my brain?"

He smiles a little wider. There's a synthetic intelligence at rest in the console. Most people don't think of them as anything more than tools, but Colin's not most people. While it may not be truly alive, he definitely doesn't think it's so undeserving of attention as to be called nothing.

(OOC: God damn word vomiting Colin...)

Well, it's a good thing she's taking a crack at his intelligence then, and not insulting the ship. Not that she's going to clarify that. The ship knows, and that's what's important.

"She needs a name," she says as she settles in.

"She does," Colin says, running his hand alone the fuselage. "I've had a couple run through my head, but nothing sounds right for her yet. I normally don't decide until she's ready for her first flight."

"Most of my ship names are fire themed," he adds, resuming working on something that caught his attention. "I've yet to find one that fits this one just right."

River nods in understanding. It would be difficult to know a thing's name before it's had the chance to become what it is.

"A little late for Fjalar," she adds.

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Day 298 (Open)

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