faderift | (no subject)

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(no subject)

WHO: Science club, feat. Skull and Jenny Lou
WHAT: taking measurements and running tests
WHEN: Now (Solace)
WHERE: Research Division workshops
NOTES: nah

This wasn't his idea. This was the kid and Miss Poppell. At most 20% Poppell, and 80% Jenny Lou.

But who is Skull to protest? All he can do is whine or sulk or play along while he gets carried hither and yon to be subjected to measurements and have notes taken about him.

His conversation with Jenny Lou is the announcement of their arrival, the volume increasing the closer they get to the lower Research division workshops.

"WELL HOW ABOUT IMMEASURABLE THEN?"

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"Is that like a plant or something," Jenny Lou says, clearly prepared to carry on like this forever. Because it's hilarious.

But waaay more interesting things are potentially happening. She bursts into the workshops with a flourish, the Skull safely tucked under one arm.

"Eeeey, nerds! We're here to do some science!"

From behind an veritable fortress of books and miscellaneous equipment stacked upon one of the work room's tables pops Wysteria's head. Presumably the rest of her body is attached to it and only invisible behind the barricade, though there is always the possibility that she's chosen to go exceptionally meta with the entire inquiry.

"Ah, there you are Miss Davies. I see you tracked down our mutual friend without too much incident."

"BEING DISCOVERED ITSELF IS INCIDENT ENOUGH" The skull lolls about in the jar, turning to face in roughly Wysteria's direction.

"I ALMOST MANAGED A NAP BEFORE THIS URCHIN DECIDED TO SHAKE ME AND CRITICIZE MY USE AS A PAPERWEIGHT!"

"Yeah, it's cus you were under all of the paper." Jenny Lou lifts Skull's jug so he can loll more comfortably to look at Wysteria. "That's not being a paperweight, that's like a paper holder."

"Neither of which are terribly dignified professions, I grant you," she says while sweeping around from behind the book stacked work table. Good news, her body is indeed attached to her head.

"Come, set it there on that open table. I just need to fetch a few things and then we'll be ready to begin."

A few things translates to a leather bound journal on yet another work space (evidently Miss Poppell makes considerable use of any flat surface available to her), and a strange rectangular-ish device with a number of dials on it and a coil coming off one end. She hauls all of these things to join the Skull and Jenny Lou about space conveniently left over to them for experimentation.

"You don't really sleep, do you? That seems highly unproductive, given the givens."

Skull's volume decreases slightly, as if retreating further into the jar to mumble: "I DID SAY ALMOST."

The fact of the matter is that he can't sleep, even if he wanted to. No living tissue means no cell regeneration, which means no need for shutting down the consciousness for routinely scheduled maintenance.

Jenny Lou sets Skull on the table with a gentle thump and then sits herself on the table next to him. She's scrawny enough she doesn't take up much space.

"Do you like zone out or something?"

"And would you say you notice any rejuvinating effects from doing so?"

Wysteria sets the measuring device on the jar's opposite side, flips open her booklet to an empy page and begins to calibrate the simple machine. It requires flipping back and forth between a few pages - Mr. Stark is usually the one managing the actual use of the thaumoscope while she does the record keeping.

Skull makes the yet-to-be-invented Marge Simpson noise.

"AH, THE REJUVENATING EFFECTS OF DISSOCIATION. NO. NOT IN THE LEAST. DOES THE METAL MAN KNOW YOU'RE TOUCHING HIS STUFF, POPPELL?"

"Oh shit, mood." Jenny Lou leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees, "Do you get vertigo with yours? I feel like that would massively suck extra hard since you're just like suspended in goo."

"Mr. Stark is very free with his things as long as they're returned to where they were found," is partially true in the sense that what Mr. Stark doesn't know won't hurt him, and she has never been in a situation where she might discover otherwise so who can say what Mr. Stark does or does not care for?

She sets the business end of the thaumoscope on top of the crusty old jar and refers to the readings. After a moment, she asks:

"Could you try doing... —something?"

"LIKE WHAT?" The Skull swivels in a circle in the jar, chattering it's teeth when it speaks. "LIKE THAT? OR PERHAPS—"

The green goo shimmers and shifts, some places where it contacts the jar dimming as if in shadow, others brightening from an internal glow. The patterning coalesces into the face of Tony Stark, looking displeased.

Jenny Lou is delighted. "Holy fuck! How'd you do that? Can you do his voice too?"

Wysteria's own surprise takes the form of a short startled honk of a laugh, promptly covered by one of her gloved hands.

"Yes, something like that." She refers to the thaumoscope's dials. "Once more, if you please."

In the grand scheme of things, the days Ellis enters the house, workshop, wherever, without finding something strange occurring directly in front of him are probably more noteworthy. He stalls just over the threshold, eyes moving from the Skull to Jenny Lou to Wysteria, expression turning questioning before he very clearly decides he doesn't care to ask.

"I had a packet of your notes in my pocket," he says, lifting the sheaf of parchment in a haphazard little wave by way of explanation. "I'll leave it."

Right on this side table, presumably unclaimed territory. Ellis is already backing up through the door.

Tony's voice calls out from his verdant visage: "Ellis, wait! Take me with you!"

It's very unsettling.

"Ellis, wait!" Jenny Lou echoes, grinning in a way that's totally not unsettling, "Come do a science with us!"

Wysteria straightens from where she's leaning over workbench at such speed that it's as if she were never sprawled over the thaumoscope or notebook to begin with. And while a moment ago she'd been in plainly good spirits - all sunny cheer and academic curiosity - at the sight of him, Wysteria goes a few orders of magnitudes brighter.

"Please do, Mr. Ellis! We're trying to determine the nature of the skull's enchantment." She swivels the jar around on the worktable so its contents are facing the door and the unlucky victim in it. "I take it you two know one another already?"

In hindsight, the fatal error is faltering at the sound of Tony's voice.

The single pause is enough for two imploring faces to turn towards him, complicating Ellis' hasty retreat. He hesitates, one hand on the door frame.

"I haven't met...your friend."

A skull? In a jar? Sure.

"You know I'm not a scientist," he reminds Wysteria. Sorry, Skull, you're on your own here.

"Ouch. That really hurts my feelings, you know?" The downside to Skull's particular skill of imitating voices is that he never took the time to pick up animation, so while Tony's face is on the glass, it doesn't move when he speaks.

Like wearing a paper mask cut from a magazine.

"And before anyone asks, yes, I have feelings."

Jenny Lou pats the jar carefully, trying not to send too many ripples, "Uh, yeah, you're a self aware being with a consciousness. No duh you have feelings. Hey, can you do any other faces?"

"This is hardly science, Mr. Ellis. We are merely indulging our curiosity, which I know for a fact you possess." If this were science, she'd be writing things down. "Come now, there is a stool just there. We would be delighted to have you, wouldn't we?"

A deeply hypothetical question, given how smoothly she changes the subject back to the Skull. Following Jenny Lou's point: "Yes, you must show us your full repertoire. I suspect"—she knows—"the jar is shielding any magical signature, but one never knows what might eke through for a reading."

There is a stool, yes. Ellis comes all the way up to stand beside it but does not sit. Is it so wrong to harbor some hope for escape?

Several questions do come to mind: did they ask Skull's permission for this, is this the best use of anyone's time, so on and so forth. But perhaps sensing the uselessness of trying to pick about the way, Ellis gives up on them and decides to reserve comment for the moment.

He does look directly at Wysteria with some expression between apprehension and caution. Even if nothing seems to have the potential to directly catch on fire, he's learned never to count out spontaneous explosions.

"Voices are far simpler beasts,"

This time the mask shifts, like a light moving to high- and underlight different facial topography until it morphs into something unrecognizable. Except it is recognizable, because it's Flint's scowling face. His voice, too.

"Faces require study."

"Dude. That's so cool." And kind of unsettling, but mostly cool. Jenny Lou flops over the table a little more so she can get a better look at Skull's face. "Hey, can you throw your voice too?"

Across the back and forth between Jenny Lou and the Skull, Wysteria gives Ellis a pointed look that's all wide eyes and raised eyebrows. It's fine, Mr. Ellis. Look at all of us having such a pleasant afternoon together.

"Jenny Lou begs a most excellent question," she says, rolling her eyes from her dour Warden companion to the contents of the warded container. "Are you able to effect the world beyond your jar in any capacity? Other than with your very endearing personality, I mean."

Is it an excellent question? Ellis looks so skeptical of seeing a facsimile of a Division head floating in a jar.

"Are we sure the Skull doesn't have something important to be doing?"

A futile question at best. But he's still having a hard time distinguishing whether Skull is interested in being the center of attention or not.

Well, he's getting attention, which isn't the worst. But he's also being pestered, which isn't the best. It's a mixed bag.

Flint's ghostly image dissolves and the group is once more left with bony features and green goo, two tiny pinpricks of veilfire-like light looking out from deep within dark, empty sockets.

"LIKE RUNNING THE DIPLOMACY DIVISION, YES!" He'll drop that joke when it's as dead as his body. "I CAN'T THROW MY VOICE BUT I CAN SOUND LIKE I'M IN A DEEP DARK WELL."

The jaw hinges open, as if that's necessary, and Skull's voice suddenly sounds more distant: "HEEEELP, I'M IN A DEEP DARK WELL! AND I'VE FOUND THE BAKER'S BOY!"

"I thought Byerly was Diplomacy Boss," Jenny Lou says, frowning, "And hey, maybe you can like work up to throwing your voice, yeah? Like being stuck in a deep dark well is kinda like that."

"See, yes, this is precisely what I mean," she says, in perfect agreement with Jenny Lou and Ellis both. Which is to say— "Clearly the jar is ppwerfully warded. Any experimentation we might do with respect to what lies inside it would necessitate breaking the seal and taking you out of it."

They're all definitely on the same page.

"He's not meant to be out of the jar, is he?"

Directed initially to Wysteria, before looking down at Skull.

"Do you know if you can exist outside of your jar?"

A more delicate way of asking if he'll kick it if these two crazy kids manage to break the seal.

"HAVEN'T THE FOGGIEST, ACTUALLY." In all his years of being a pickled skull in a jar, it's never come to pass and thus never warranted thinking about.

"MAYBE I'D BECOME SOMETHING LIKE BARTIMAEUS, OR THIS ONE HERE," a nod towards Jenny Lou. Some kind of Djinn or shapeshifter, of course, not a Rifter. "WHO CAN SAY. BUT GOOD LUCK!"

It'd be positively novel to see them break the jar, or somehow wriggle him out of a bottleneck that's narrower than his eye socket.

"Being a shapeshifter is cool," she says with a great deal of authority, "Buuuuuuut we maybe shouldn't do a thing that'll kill you. Or re-kill you."

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