The Death of Science...

[Faith Augustin]

13th Zi'da, 716

Science is not only a discipline of reason but, also, one of romance and passion
~Stephen Hawkin~

This was it. Tonight was the night. Organisation and the skills of such were very genuine strengths of Faith's. She had spent a lifetime, after all, planning to ensure that other people's needs were met before they knew they had them. Well, this time, she was turning her full attention on to Padraig and on finally actually having a romantic evening. She'd tried every trick in the book, as far as she knew and she was determined that this night was going to see them acting like something other than a pair of siblings. They'd had moments, some of them rated as amongst. if not top of the list of, the most intense moments of her life, but they were fleeting and gone so quickly that sometimes Faith thought that she'd misinterpreted his words. But what else could he have meant, she knew that he loved her; she was just starting to doubt whether he had any actual desire for her at all.

So, she had put to full use every weapon she had. They weren't many, in fairness and, as she looked at the contents of her underwear drawer, Faith sighed. Tristan had been far less complicated, she considered. If it was him, she could just... no. No thoughts going there. She wasn't there she was here. She had a towel wrapped around her hair as she was freshly out of the bath and she was damn well going to get some reaction out of him tonight. He told her he loved her, but then, nothing. Enough. Tonight, she was quite sure, was going to be the night. She dressed carefully, choosing the red skirt which he had commented on previously and a white silk blouse. Over that, she put an openweave red shawl that she had made and tied it. With a tight belt on her waist she concluded that everything was in order. She put her hair into a loose braid and tied it with red ribbon, holding it back.

Usually, they cooked together, but tonight he'd said that he was going to likely be a little late home and, either way she wanted to make sure that she'd cooked. The food wasn't fancy, not by any stretch it was their normal fare, but she put every ounce of her cooking skill into it. With a bit of luck, she thought, they'd go hungry.

She was just picking up the candles to go and set the table in a nice, romantic manner when he walked in. Or more precisely, he almost burst in. The draft of cold air hit the room and Faith's heart hit her boots at the same time. He had a pile of books in one hand and a bag of... something, in the other. She moved forward, immediately, to grab the books from him and put them down on the table. Just where she had been going to put out the plates, with candlelight and the fire warming them, place settings and chairs close together, all laid out beautifully. Nope. Books.

"What's all this, Padraig? Are you .. are you taking all these with us tomorrow?" She wondered and she raised an eyebrow at him. When he'd said he was going to be working late tonight, she'd assumed that he meant he was working at the University, not when he got home. But judging by how surprised he looked at her question, that hadn't been what he'd meant at all. "Or is this the work you've got to do tonight?" Oh well, she thought, at least me and my sibling here will eat well. Books laid on the table, she kissed his cheek and raised an eyebrow. "Can I help?"

[Padraig]

Timing, and it's management, wasn't always Padraig's strong suit. Or at least this time it wasn't. In order to finally earn his certificate in physics, he'd need to produce a larger than usual project by mid Zi'da. He hadn't worried about it. In fact when he'd gone to bed the night before, he hadn't even thought about it. But with the dawn came a reminder of the coming campaign, in the supplies they'd packed and stored in a corner. And he suddenly realized that he had no idea when they'd be returning. By the time his project was due, certainly, but in time enough to pull it off? Probably not.

It was then that he'd told Faith he'd need to work later than usual on his studies that evening. If he didn't meet the deadline, after all, he'd have to repeat the entire course next season. This one, and the last would have been wasted. He'd intended to remain at the university, to work alone in the lab. But they'd run him off early in anticipation of heavier snows expected later that night. And so he'd trudged home, laden down with a stack of books, and a sack stuffed with supplies from the lab.

What saved him of course was that by happenstance, much of the project was already done. Oddly enough, it was the preparations for a possible fight on the coming journey that had done it, and gotten him ahead of the game. Not enough, however, and there'd be work to do at home, and an early morning visit, back to the university before they headed out on the road.

He'd fumbled with the door while juggling his books and sack, and a gust of wind blew it open, sending a flurry of snowflakes inside, and the door, banging against the wall inside. "The top one," he said when Faith rushed forward to take the books. It was about to slide off, and with it, the whole armful of them. "What?" he said then while stomping the packed snow off his boots before coming inside. "No, not taking them with us. It's for a project I've left too long, and need to finish up this evening before we depart."

Fully inside, he pushed the door shut behind him with the heel of his boot, and set the sack down by the door. "I wasn't thinking about the timing till this morning," he admitted while unwinding his scarf, pulling his hat off and shrugging his way out of his coat. "Since we don't know for sure when we'll return...Applied physics," Padraig explained. "But with a twist. I've got to come up with a plausible design for some sort of machine or apparatus, for peaceful pursuits or warfare, that combines physics with other sciences like chemistry, mathematics, alchemy..."

His distraction was enough that he hadn't taken a good look around just yet, and he managed to remove his boots toe to heel without reaching down to grab them. "I got to thinking about the explosives and and poisoned bolts, chemistry and alchemy, already done. So all I'd need is some sort of delivery device, a way of firing or launching them. That's where physics come in. You want to help?" he asked, then finally looked around. Firstly at her. "I like you in red," he said, and smiled appreciatively. He'd told her before, but it warranted repeating.

In fact, she was dressed a bit more, well, it wasn't her usual choice when it was just the two of them at home, and he looked around again, his gaze lighting on the candles. Had she something special planned for that evening? It appeared that she had, and he could have kicked himself for being so dense, and so inattentive for all his current distraction. "It can wait," he said, and he meant it. Who wouldn't have preferred a romantic evening at home by the fire, than finding a way to launch killing objects at the enemy? Surely they'd be back with time enough to finish the project then?

[Faith Augustin]

"I've got it!" Grabbing at the book she couldn't help but shake her head and grin in delight. "I've got them. You know how to make an entrance, don't you?" She'd have told him to close the door, except he had. "A project?" A project that needed finishing up this evening? Of course. Why wouldn't it? She watched him as he came in, took off his coat and scarf and hat, and explained the project. Applied physics? A combination of physics and any other discipline? That sounded right up his street and as much as she felt a pang of disappointment at her plans, she knew that this would be completely in his wheelhouse.

"Yes, I'll help. Of course I'll help", she smiled at him. But then, of course, he noticed her and she wished, just this once, that he hadn't. There were many more important things to do. He liked her in red? Faith smiled and lowered her eyes as she responded. "Thank you, that's kind.". Famula forgive her, she thought and, lifting her head, she looked him in the eye. She'd studied psychology enough that she knew how lies worked, in theory at least. He was just about distracted enough that it might work in practice, too "I've finished packing. This is pretty much all I've got left, other than the dresses that Tristan bought me and I don't wear those, I just make new things out of them." It was true, she had not, not since the trial that she got here, worn one of the dresses she'd brought with her. "I don't have a lot of clothes, and I want to make sure that I've packed everything I need to. I was just putting together the last small bag I want to put together. Emergency stuff, really, that I think I might carry with me. Some bandages, tinderbox, candles." She gestured, casually, towards where the candles were. Would it work? She had no idea, but she hoped so. He'd worked too hard and done too much for her to be anything but supportive now.

It could wait? "What? Don't be silly, it will be a good distraction from worrying about tomorrow, which is what I've spent most of the evening doing so far. I've distracted myself every way I know how, I did some knitting, repacked a few times. I even did my hair so that it will set like this whilst I sleep and be easier to manage for the next few trials", well, if he knew anything about hair care, she was stuffed on that one she thought. She was betting, however, that he didn't and so she carried on "but I just can't settle. This will help. I've cooked dinner, I just wanted to get rid of what was left, really" More than anything, she just wanted to tell him, tell him what she felt and what she really wanted, but if she told him, then he'd do one of two things and she wasn't going to put him in the situation of failing his qualification because she was needy. Also, she didn't want to be put in the position of him choosing to do it anyway, so this was better. Oh so much better."So, it's a bit of a mish mash of food, I'm afraid." How many breaks cooking? Never mind, eh. "Why don't I serve up something that we can eat with our hands, whilst we work? What's the first job?"

The firing device, that was worth to think about first and, as she moved over to where she was going to dish up three breaks worth of work in a way that made it look as much like slop as she could manage, which really was nowhere near slop and no amount of talent at hiding it would hide the amount of time or effort that had gone into it. But, ever hopeful she asked "So, you said bolts. You're thinking crossbow? Or something else?" If she could actually get him thinking about it, then she might just manage this, she thought to herself.

[Padraig]

Yes, a project. One that he hadn't concerned himself with, thinking he had all the time in the world to do it. Except that he hadn't taken into account the amount of time they might be away, or when they might return. "Bad timing. Forgetfulness," he admitted. It was a matter of pride, remembering things. A scientific mind ought not be encumbered by an inability to remember things. And yet, he remembered the first time she'd smiled at him, and could see it even now in his mind's eye.

Padraig was distracted. That much was undeniable. And he had no reason to question her explanation. Except that somehow he sensed that she'd been planning something else. He cursed himself inwardly for upending it. Not just for her. But admittedly for himself as well. Even with the looming prospect of failing the course if he didn't complete this project on time, the temptation was nearly overwhelming. And he knew not a thing about caring for a woman's hair. Except that he'd thought those curls she'd worn when they first met, must have taken a great deal of effort. Some special feat of engineering.

"If you're sure?" he said, when she suggested they eat while they work. It didn't look like leftovers, no matter how she'd tried to make it seem that way. But even on the most ordinary trials, he'd never eaten as well, before she moved in. But he agreed, and he brought a notebook, a few sheets of clean paper and a pen to the table, along with the sack he'd brought from the university. That, he dropped on the floor by his chair. "Well I've already fashioned the darts that will contain the poison, by altering the tips on the bolts for the crossbow." Thin metal manipulated and turned into a hollow point, was all it had taken. "But for the purpose of my project, I've considered a second option."

"The chemistry and alchemy portions are already done. I used the sulfur and ground charcoal I got from the apothecary, along with some composted manure from a local farmer to make the saltpeter, to create the explosives. The garrotte vine sap and the ghost mushroom that I purchased earlier, combined to create a fast acting poison, stabilized in combination with almond oil." But he'd brought other things with him from the lab, and opened the sack to show her. There were four light, hollow wooden tubes. Two of them thick enough to slide the clay pots inside that he'd purchased previously. And two much more narrow ones, the likes of which the bolts might slide into. There were also a few pieces of metal, thin enough to be easily manipulated.

"A few of those things in your carpenter's kit might come in handy," he told her with a smile as he picked up the pen, dipped it in the ink pot and began to draw. "The physics part of the equation," Padraig explained. He drew a diagram of a tube on the paper, but a half slice of one so that she could see the inside. "I'll need to submit a drawing and instructions, as well as a prototype, which is why I've brought two of each sized tube. Two to take with us, two to turn in." Inside the tube, at one end he drew a wooden disc with a small hole in it's center, with wick sticking out one end. On top of the wooden plug, a pouch that he explained would contain a small, black powder charge.

"It's plugged at one end, with a charge, and you drop the clay pot explosive, or the dart, into the other end. But I realized that there must be something in between, so that the projectile isn't just sitting there on top of the charge. The whole thing would blow, was that the case." But with the projectile inside the tube, with the charge at one end, lighting and blowing that charge would create a blast of air that would launch the projectile out the other end, aimed at the enemy. "The size of the charge will impact velocity, but it's also important to direct the blast in such a way that it doesn't shatter the projectile. It also needs to be fashioned in such a way that the projectile doesn't rattle around in the tube on it's way out."

So, he continued to draw, and then pulled out a thin piece of metal from his sack. "I came up with a solution, maybe. Instead of the projectile sitting on top of the charge, which in the case of the pots would be lit before it was dropped in, I thought we could fashion this metal into discs that would fit snug, about halfway down the tube, but fashioned like a ring or doughnut. A hole in the center that would direct the blast of air that would launch the projectile." It was the plan thus far, and overall, a very simple device on paper. But he was curious to hear what she thought about it.

► Show Spoiler

Off Topic

Purchase of sulfur, oil, charcoal, wooden tubes deducted. 14 nels. If it should be more, please advise. Garrotte Vine Sap, Ghost Mushroom and clay pots purchased previously

[Faith Augustin]

Bad timing? On her part or his, she wondered. Probably both, in fairness and it seemed to be the story of their lives at this point. Faith smiled as he said that and shook her head, worry evident on her face even though she tried to hide it. "Too much to do. Too much pressure and too many jobs", which was true she knew. If she hadn't asked him to go on this campaign then maybe he wouldn't be feeling this way and she cursed herself for her selfishness. It wasn't his fight, and she'd asked him just after she'd moved in when she was at her most vulnerable and, by definition, he was most concerned for her. It worried her more each trial that he might get hurt and if he did the responsibility would be hers, for asking him. Damnit.

Putting the plate of food into his hand, as he asked, she looked at him and smiled, a genuine expression of fondness on her face, coupled with much deeper emotions which she was currently trying to get ahold of. "I'm sure. It turned out alright, actually. I'm pleased. If I do say so myself", she gave a genuine grin then and added "Although the proof is in the eating, of course. So, what are we doing?"

She held up the tubes, looking at each one and listening to his explanation. About half way through she looked at him with a level gaze and said, mock serious, "You are telling me I need to unpack? Again?" She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, then moved her hand to his face, turning him to face her so that she could repeat the gesture on his lips, lingering a moment before she spoke again. "I'll go get it", she grinned jumped up and moved to her room. Faith was not given to displays of emotion, it was not her way, but she sat on the bed for a few trills and did what could only be described as 'huff'. But then, she determined, it was time to stop being self absorbed and get out and help. Before she could though, she unpacked the kit and changed her clothes into the only other things she had out.

She came back out moments later with the carpentry kit and wearing a pair of warm oversized pajamas and thick socks. "If we're settling in and potentially sitting on the floor later when this spills all over the place, I'm going to be warm", handing him the box the kit came in, she continued to listen and frowned a little, trying to keep up. "So, it's like a mini cannon? Allright, but we have to have the metal to make it not just... boom. That's very clever, Padraig", she quite meant it, although it was somewhat tempered with "Are you sure it will work?" It was something that she was mostly keeping up with and she pulled her feet flat onto the seat of her chair and rested her chin on her knees.

"I think it sounds like it could work. But I'm not sure of the practical applications. I mean, it sounds like it might be a little.. volatile, for the returns? But it's interesting and I'd be interested to see how far it will go. We're not testing it here are we?" A slight grin told of her lack of seriousness and she looked at the jobs to do. "Alright. You get drawing your diagram and getting that stuff done, and I'll get these rings cut." It was roughly the same principle as woodworking, so it was relatively easy. As she did, though, she stopped for a few moments, watching him with his head bent to the paper, so intent and intense.

"Padraig?" Her voice was calm and quiet as was her usual and she had every intention of asking him if he wanted to stay home, not go on the campaign at all. But then she realised what the answer would be. More importantly, she realised that she already knew not just what the answer would be but also why it would be that. So, she stopped herself and a smile lit her face, coinciding with the realisation that what she was worrying about, and him too she thought, was meaningless and she experienced a moment of real clarity, of realisation of what they had both said, what they both meant and, most importantly, what they both felt. She visibly relaxed, holding up one of the tubes. They needed to get this done, she determined and she turned her focus to it, her energy renewed. "Should I make these flush? I think so, as tight as I can? And how big the donut hole in the middle?" she asked, her expression calm and content.

[Padraig]

The semblance of worry that crossed her face was a mystery. Its cause, that was. Was she feeling pressured. By what? Or by whom? Was it him and their relationship, their living arrangement? Surely she'd tell him if it was. There were times she puzzled him, but she'd gotten much better, of late, at speaking her mind. "I suspect that if there's pressure, it's what you've placed on yourself," Padraig told her with a reassuring smile. "You first, the rest will work itself out."

"Just a saw, and something to cut and bend metal with," he said apologetically when she asked about unpacking. If his planning had been better, if he'd thought, this would have been done trials ago. But they'd eaten, and he'd finished a rough drawing of what he had planned, and she went off to her room for reasons that eluded him at present. Padraig still wasn't sure that she hadn't had something else planned for the evening. But she'd told him she hadn't, and rather than press, he'd accept her answer without question. Still, she was gone for some time, but then he assumed it was due to changing her clothes and getting the tools that they'd need.

"Something like a canon, I guess," he considered, when she joined him on the rug. "A very simple, handheld one anyway. Based on science, it should work. I'll be handing in a prototype with blanks however. Charges packed with sawdust instead of black powder, a pot filled with sand. A bolt that's not a bolt at all but a carved piece of wood. It's the principle my professor is interested in. He won't be testing it, and I'd rather he didn't in fact," he confessed with a smile.

As for it being volatile? Well, she had a good point. "I've begun to reconsider the idea of launching an explosive pot through one of these tubes. In effect, we'd be launching an explosive, with an explosive. If all went as planned, the charge would only create the burst of air needed to launch the pot. And the position and style of the ring would prevent the thing cracking open and exploding inside the tube. The science is there, but every variable must be just so, and nothing out of order. In the thick of battle, in untrained hands, it would be risky. In practice, it might be a better choice just to throw them or launch them with a sling for more distance."

The bolts though. Those could be fired from a crossbow, or for the purposes of this project, from the tube, and without the risks of the loaded pots, he explained. During the campaign, it might be quicker, more accurate, all around more appealing to fire them with a bow. But the apparatus, and the science behind it, would make a nice final project for his physics course.

So he worked on the diagram and theory while she worked on the tubes and the rings, based on his design. They'd worked in companionable silence for a while. In fact the work was going much quicker this way, than he'd anticipated it might. He was absorbed in his work when she spoke again, and it startled him a little. It appeared for a moment as if she had one thing to say, but then said another. Curious. What was on her mind that she couldn't say? She was maddening that way, sometimes. If it was anyone else, well, somehow he found her all the more alluring for it. He smiled. "Flush, snug, yes," he confirmed.

"The holes must be large enough for the projectiles to rest it, but not slip through. Also, make sure the metal rings are cone shaped, not flat. The convex shape with direct and focus the burst of air through the center, through the hole to launch the projectile. If the metal plate was flat, it would distribute the blast over all of it, and fail to launch properly," he explained. And so with his drawing and written work done, it was just a matter of finishing the tubes, the plates and the plugs, and making sure the projectiles, pot or dart, fit inside them just as they should. All in all, the project hadn't taken nearly as long as he'd thought it might, and they'd have the rest of the evening to do as they pleased.

[Siren]

Name: Faith

Knowledge:
Cosmetology: A simple braid
Padraig: Acts like your sibling
Padraig: Has a project to finish before you leave
Padraig: Likes you in red
Deception: Concealing your true motives
Alchemy: Garrotte vine sap, ghost mushroom, and almond oil poison
Alchemy: Sulfur, ground charcoal, and composted manure explosive
Padraig: Turning in a prototype
Padraig: Reconsidering his launching device for pots
Padraig: Worried about pots exploding inside tube

Loot: Please deduct supplies from your ledger if you haven’t already.
Injuries: N/A
Fame: +1 general good deed

Story: 5
Collaboration: 5
Structure: 5

Name: Padraig

Knowledge:
Strength: Carrying books
Detection: Sensing a lie
Alchemy: Garrotte vine sap, ghost mushroom, almond oil poison
Alchemy: Sulfur, ground charcoal, and composted manure explosive
Drawing: Diagrams
Physics: Velocity
Physics: Explosive force
Physics: Air pressure
Physics: Explosion
Faith: Thinks you have too much to do, too many jobs
Faith: Thinks you have too much pressure
Faith: Thinks you’re clever
Faith: Not saying everything on her mind

Loot: Please deduct the books and lab supplies from your ledger if you haven’t already.
Injuries: N/A
Fame: N/A

Story: 5
Collaboration: 5
Structure: 5

Comment:
These two! They just can’t seem to get much of a romantic moment going without something else happening! I certainly hope they do because they are cute together and I think they have the potential to have a great relationship. Fun story, good collaboration, and the structure was mostly fine.

If you feel that I've missed anything or have any questions or comments, please PM me!