Forge and Laurie, Thursday morning
Sep. 14th, 2006 07:50 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsLaurie is having some concerns about the portable air filter that helps control her power, so she goes down to the guy who designed it, and finds him a few days into an attempt at becoming a Lab Hermit again, and manages to drag him out of it, finding some wonderful news in the process
Laurie headed down the stairs to the basement, munching on the sandwich she’d made in the kitchen. She’d seen on the journals that Forge was finally back in the mansion and she wanted to see him about the air scrubber, as it had been behaving strangely the last week or so.
Hearing the door buzz, Forge glanced up from the notes Paige had left for him. Seeing the blonde hair in the monitor, he hit the remote to open the lab door and smiled. “Hey, Pa—um, Laurie. Right, hey.” Good grief, could we have any MORE cute blonde girls coming by to confuse me? he thought silently. “How’s the first week of school been treating you here?”
If Forge had bothered to change his clothes or shave in the last day, it didn’t show. At least a few days’ worth of stubble and a wrinkled t-shirt gave evidence that he’d been up for quite a while, and even though his mutation reduced his need for sleep, it was obvious that he was running on close to empty.
“Not too bad.” Laurie responded, frowning as she noticed the somewhat dishevelled appearance of the mansion’s most recent security specialist. “Tell me you’ve at least eaten something in the last twenty-four hours, or I’ll have to rat you out to the cook.”
Forge opened his mouth, then looked at the back of his left hand. Streaks of black liquid crystal flowed over the surface to display the time, and he frowned. “In the last twenty-four, yes. I’ll go grab something from the kitchen once I’ve gotten everything straightened out here. But hey, since you’re visiting my rather well-lit and not-at-all mad scientist-y lair, what can I do for you today, Miss Collins?”
“A bit of maintenance work mostly, I’ve been having some issues with the air-scrubber. I usually have to change the filter every third day or so but it’s been over a week and it’s been fine. I wondered if something had gone wrong with it. Only you’ve been away for the last week so I’ve taken to hanging out in the garden in the meantime.”
Cocking his head, Forge smiled over at Laurie when she finished her rapid explanation. This, at least, was something right in front of him that he could handle. Gingerly, he reached out to grasp the small air-scrubber that Laurie wore around her neck. “It filters out the pheromones you produce,” he explained rhetorically as he turned the device over and over in his hands. “Works basically like an air ionizer, and if the filter element’s not working…”
He paused, lifting the scrubber up to eye level. In his mind’s eye, he could see it disassembled, each part practically speaking to him and telling him what it did, what it connected to, how it was working, communicating every detail of the machine’s existence to him. His power made it easy to understand. Machines would never lie. They never could, not to Forge.
“It’s not broken,” he said flatly, letting the scrubber dangle on the small cord. “You’re putting out less pheromones. Congratulations, you’re learning to control your power.”
Laurie’s eyes widened at the news, a half-smile twitching her lips upwards as what he’d said worked its way through her head. “J-just a s-second. D-did I j-just hear you right? C-could you just r-repeat that last b-bit?”
Forge turned away from Laurie, typing briefly on a keyboard. “The scrubber’s working fine,” he said. “You’re just not needing it as much. Off the top of my head, I’d say that means you’re not unconsciously exuding as much of your pheromones as normal. You’d have to talk to the Professor, or Moira, or probably Paige if you want the details. I’m not good with biologicals.”
“So, does this mean I get to take it off then?” Laurie asked, smile now more then evident.
The happiness in her voice drew Forge’s attention away from the computer, and he turned to lean on one of the counters. “Not my call,” he said dispassionately. “For all I know, you might just be having a temporary lack of whatever makes you produce your pheromones. Change in diet, personal stress, your period, whatever, that’s not my area of expertise. All I can tell you is that the scrubber’s working exactly as it should, and it says you’ve been producing less than normal.”
After he’d spoken, he paused, running a hand over his face and realizing how cranky and haggard he must seem to this girl who was only asking for help. “Look, I’m sorry,” he explained. “It’s been a long week and I’m still trying to get used to the, um, time difference.” A lie, but a believable one and less direct than the truth.
“It’s okay.” Laurie replied, looking around for somewhere to lean against. Spotting a stool at one of the benches she climbed up on it and perched, eyeing him. “You’ve never met my mother during a PMS week, she’d make your cranky look like a walk in the park. So, I’ll talk to Paige and Moira later, see if we can figure out the other side of the equation. For now though, want to come up to the kitchen, maybe get out of this lab for a bit? I’ve been told peanut butter waffles cure crankiness like magic.”
Despite his mood, Forge laughed. “Yeah, I suppose that they would. I just have to do a few things…” he trailed off, wandering over to a containment locker and checking the temperature. After the trouble he’d gone through in customs…
“Heck, waffles it is,” he turned and proclaimed with a smile. “Just… nothing that comes in a little aluminium tin with tiny plastic utensils. I swear, airline food is some form of simple-chain polymer with some flavor attached to it. My digestion may never recover, really. Waffles, and then I can try and figure out why all this spam from FreeSudoku.Com is getting through my email filter.”
“Sudoku? That’s those math puzzles, right? Maybe you just left your e-mail on one of those free sites or something. I was looking for these chocolate based receipes the other day and now I’m getting spam for ‘adult’ products and I’ve got no idea how chocolate and adult go together.”
Forge stopped dead in his tracks to look at Laurie, her face completely innocent. “Well, um.” He said quietly, brain heading straight for the Bad Place at high velocity. “They’re not really my thing, the puzzles, I mean. That’s Jennie’s schtick.”
As soon as he’d said it, he grew quiet for a moment, hands clenching briefly before he looked up again with a smile. “Right then, waffles. And commiserating about exactly how boring the Professor’s English curriculum is this semester. I swear, the man treats The Once And Future King like it’s the Bible or something…”
Laurie headed down the stairs to the basement, munching on the sandwich she’d made in the kitchen. She’d seen on the journals that Forge was finally back in the mansion and she wanted to see him about the air scrubber, as it had been behaving strangely the last week or so.
Hearing the door buzz, Forge glanced up from the notes Paige had left for him. Seeing the blonde hair in the monitor, he hit the remote to open the lab door and smiled. “Hey, Pa—um, Laurie. Right, hey.” Good grief, could we have any MORE cute blonde girls coming by to confuse me? he thought silently. “How’s the first week of school been treating you here?”
If Forge had bothered to change his clothes or shave in the last day, it didn’t show. At least a few days’ worth of stubble and a wrinkled t-shirt gave evidence that he’d been up for quite a while, and even though his mutation reduced his need for sleep, it was obvious that he was running on close to empty.
“Not too bad.” Laurie responded, frowning as she noticed the somewhat dishevelled appearance of the mansion’s most recent security specialist. “Tell me you’ve at least eaten something in the last twenty-four hours, or I’ll have to rat you out to the cook.”
Forge opened his mouth, then looked at the back of his left hand. Streaks of black liquid crystal flowed over the surface to display the time, and he frowned. “In the last twenty-four, yes. I’ll go grab something from the kitchen once I’ve gotten everything straightened out here. But hey, since you’re visiting my rather well-lit and not-at-all mad scientist-y lair, what can I do for you today, Miss Collins?”
“A bit of maintenance work mostly, I’ve been having some issues with the air-scrubber. I usually have to change the filter every third day or so but it’s been over a week and it’s been fine. I wondered if something had gone wrong with it. Only you’ve been away for the last week so I’ve taken to hanging out in the garden in the meantime.”
Cocking his head, Forge smiled over at Laurie when she finished her rapid explanation. This, at least, was something right in front of him that he could handle. Gingerly, he reached out to grasp the small air-scrubber that Laurie wore around her neck. “It filters out the pheromones you produce,” he explained rhetorically as he turned the device over and over in his hands. “Works basically like an air ionizer, and if the filter element’s not working…”
He paused, lifting the scrubber up to eye level. In his mind’s eye, he could see it disassembled, each part practically speaking to him and telling him what it did, what it connected to, how it was working, communicating every detail of the machine’s existence to him. His power made it easy to understand. Machines would never lie. They never could, not to Forge.
“It’s not broken,” he said flatly, letting the scrubber dangle on the small cord. “You’re putting out less pheromones. Congratulations, you’re learning to control your power.”
Laurie’s eyes widened at the news, a half-smile twitching her lips upwards as what he’d said worked its way through her head. “J-just a s-second. D-did I j-just hear you right? C-could you just r-repeat that last b-bit?”
Forge turned away from Laurie, typing briefly on a keyboard. “The scrubber’s working fine,” he said. “You’re just not needing it as much. Off the top of my head, I’d say that means you’re not unconsciously exuding as much of your pheromones as normal. You’d have to talk to the Professor, or Moira, or probably Paige if you want the details. I’m not good with biologicals.”
“So, does this mean I get to take it off then?” Laurie asked, smile now more then evident.
The happiness in her voice drew Forge’s attention away from the computer, and he turned to lean on one of the counters. “Not my call,” he said dispassionately. “For all I know, you might just be having a temporary lack of whatever makes you produce your pheromones. Change in diet, personal stress, your period, whatever, that’s not my area of expertise. All I can tell you is that the scrubber’s working exactly as it should, and it says you’ve been producing less than normal.”
After he’d spoken, he paused, running a hand over his face and realizing how cranky and haggard he must seem to this girl who was only asking for help. “Look, I’m sorry,” he explained. “It’s been a long week and I’m still trying to get used to the, um, time difference.” A lie, but a believable one and less direct than the truth.
“It’s okay.” Laurie replied, looking around for somewhere to lean against. Spotting a stool at one of the benches she climbed up on it and perched, eyeing him. “You’ve never met my mother during a PMS week, she’d make your cranky look like a walk in the park. So, I’ll talk to Paige and Moira later, see if we can figure out the other side of the equation. For now though, want to come up to the kitchen, maybe get out of this lab for a bit? I’ve been told peanut butter waffles cure crankiness like magic.”
Despite his mood, Forge laughed. “Yeah, I suppose that they would. I just have to do a few things…” he trailed off, wandering over to a containment locker and checking the temperature. After the trouble he’d gone through in customs…
“Heck, waffles it is,” he turned and proclaimed with a smile. “Just… nothing that comes in a little aluminium tin with tiny plastic utensils. I swear, airline food is some form of simple-chain polymer with some flavor attached to it. My digestion may never recover, really. Waffles, and then I can try and figure out why all this spam from FreeSudoku.Com is getting through my email filter.”
“Sudoku? That’s those math puzzles, right? Maybe you just left your e-mail on one of those free sites or something. I was looking for these chocolate based receipes the other day and now I’m getting spam for ‘adult’ products and I’ve got no idea how chocolate and adult go together.”
Forge stopped dead in his tracks to look at Laurie, her face completely innocent. “Well, um.” He said quietly, brain heading straight for the Bad Place at high velocity. “They’re not really my thing, the puzzles, I mean. That’s Jennie’s schtick.”
As soon as he’d said it, he grew quiet for a moment, hands clenching briefly before he looked up again with a smile. “Right then, waffles. And commiserating about exactly how boring the Professor’s English curriculum is this semester. I swear, the man treats The Once And Future King like it’s the Bible or something…”
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