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Post by Mirage on Jul 30, 2009 20:14:04 GMT -5
Day 13, Semi-Private for now
Mirage has promised Oracle a date.
He did this without considering the problems inherent in being confined to a ship for an indeterminate amount of time, with no real amenities for such socialization. Because no, he is not going to take her to watch horrid Terran vids or play silly games.
But he has devised a plan of sorts. Which may work, if he can just get a little help.
Mirage now lounges against the doorframe of Perceptor's lab. He has been doing so for several minutes, but the scientist seems oblivious. Poor Mirage! His looks can not compete with whatever has so captivated Perceptor's attention this time!
After another few minutes, the spy quietly coughs.
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Post by Perceptor on Jul 30, 2009 20:54:02 GMT -5
Perceptor is about as content as Perceptor gets. He has a laboratory, and even if he must share it with the other science types, there are no other true pure scientists here yet, besides himself. He has little competition for most of the rather considerably outfitted facility.
He is, as far as he is concerned, home. He hasn't even bothered swetting foot in the room he has been asigned, choosing, instead, to degrag and recharge here in a quiet corner between projects.
Perhaps Mirage can forgive him, then, his... obliviousness. After all, he doesn't receive visitors very often, and those who come here looking for something in particular generally know better than to wait for him to notice them.
Perceptor doesn't quite jump when Mirage coughs, but he turns swiftly with a look of surprise.
"Greetings Mirage. May I help you?"
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Post by Mirage on Jul 30, 2009 21:38:30 GMT -5
Mirage takes the address as invitation to enter, sauntering in and flopping gracefully on a chair.
"I hope so. But what I ask for might be considered a frivolous waste of resources and therefore I am to be denied. Which will vex me most sorely." Mirage smirks up at Perceptor, "Though I am sure you are quite up to the task, should my request not prove be dismissed out of hand."
He props his chin on the back of his hand. "You know this ship is highly lacking in proper recreation? I have promised a lady a time to remember, and I cannot even offer her a properly brewed and aged drink."
"I was hoping," he continues, "That perhaps you might be able to help me with that part of my problem?"
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Post by Perceptor on Jul 31, 2009 11:35:09 GMT -5
There are times when Perceptor can be quiet astute and spot when he is being buttered up for whatever reason. This... is not one of those times. Mention of the "task", and his skills to perform such, merely piques his curiosity. Upon explanation of the "task", it doesn't even occur to him to be concerned or irritated that his chemistry skills have been primarily utilized as little more than a glorified bartender since arriving in this reality.
"Hmm... Well, I am certain that I am able to compound any fuel formulation you require, however, the 'aged' qualifier would be simulated chemically," he replies, setting his stylus down and pushing his project away as he turns toward Mirage. "Not even I am capable of producing a time altering device on such short notice."
Bit of pardonable pride there.
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Post by Mirage on Jul 31, 2009 13:56:13 GMT -5
"Oh, that would be most lovely," Mirage drawls, flashing the scientist his best smile, "I am sure whatever you can manage will suffice. Her palate is not so sophisticated, I think, but I simply could not imagine a proper date without a proper libation."
His expression grows a bit thoughtful then, and he asks," Perceptor, speaking of palates...just how familiar are you with such higher-end vintages?"
After all, what Perceptor considers quality Mirage might consider unfit to dirty his glass. Best to check beforehand.
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Post by Perceptor on Jul 31, 2009 14:23:19 GMT -5
"Doubtfully as familiar as you," Perceptor replies, quirking one brow ridge. "Though I am not a souse, being a scientist does not make one a teetotaler." Additionally, Perceptor likely had not had the habitual access to the types and quality of vintages that Mirage likely had...
"However, I am a very good chemist," he add wryly. And perhaps Perceptor's pride is still just a little stung from Scrapper's rather... pedestrian tastes. It had been rather disappointing to go to all the effort of compounding all those samples to give him a choice, only to discover that Scrapper probably would have pronounced the sludge they pumped out of the engines to be "good stuff". Certainly that made for ease in providing for his needs, but hardly an exercise of Perceptor's caliber of skills is needed to supply that.
"So, perhaps it would be best to determine exactly what qualities you are seeking for your libation. Effervescent? Sweet? Dry? How 'aged'? Light or medium bodied? How potent? Pale or dark?" he quizzes, pulling another datapad over to make notes on.
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Post by Mirage on Jul 31, 2009 14:56:02 GMT -5
Mirage leans forward, knees on his thighs, hands clasped loosely between his legs. He takes several moments to give Perceptor's question proper consideration.
"Nothing too potent; I've no idea of her tolerances, and neither want to make her ill or have her think I was trying to take advantage by lowering her inhibitions. Yet at the same time, I do not wish it to be some fruity fresh-build's drink, either."
He taps his is index fingers together, then looks back up at Perceptor. The scientist might be surprised at just how serious the spy has gotten over such a trivial thing.
"There was this one brew, extremely limited in production, only available for purchase for one day out of every vorn. I should say for bid, for it was always a silent auction, with the proceeds being used to upkeep the Helix Gardens."
"Such a pale violet it was as to be almost clear, but thick in taste, rich, but not sweet. A slightly spiced finish that was refreshing. Strong enough in flavor to best be savored at leisure, and yet, still light enough to serve as an aperitif. It did seem to always be a particular favorite of fliers, so perhaps it had an additive designed to appeal to their systems."
"Does this give you a start then? I, will, of course, be happy to lend my palate for sampling." Signature smirk.
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Post by Perceptor on Jul 31, 2009 15:12:11 GMT -5
Perceptor gets excited over new microbes and particle physics. He is hardly one to cast asperations upon another's desires for not being necessary. He quickly jots notes down as Mirage describes what he is looking for, noting down a few quick scribbles of chemical formulae after several of his notes as he does so. He mutters a little elemental nonesense and makes a few more notes before glancing up, the stylus tapping against his chin thoughtfully.
"I appreciate that. As the only one present to have sampled the original formula, I will require your assistance in perfecting the mixture." Alas, Mirage's smirk goes unnoticed as Perceptor mentally spools through options and ideas.
"When you say 'spiced finish'," he asks, "would you classify it as more of a smokey spice? or a full bodied musky spice? Or something closer to a snappy spice, with a tinge of biting heat to it?" Brewing rare vintages from the oral description of a memory. Now this is a challenge whose results Perceptor knows will be appreciated for the trickiness involved.
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Post by Mirage on Jul 31, 2009 15:35:34 GMT -5
Of course, Mirage doesn't expect Perceptor to exactly duplicate the vintage. If it were easy to copy, then it would not be nearly so expensive and sought after. But the spy imagines it wll be close enough to satisfy.
'Oh, no, not musky at all. A tad smokey, but with a lingering heat at the back of the throat. It wakes up the palate, you see, and cleanses it, without intruding upon whatever other tidbit you might wish to nibble on afterward. A subtle, slow burn that barely registers as such."
He leans back again, cheek propped on the back of his hand. "Though I did hear once about a fool who, on a dare, drank an entire bottle. Scorched his insides something terrible, they say." Mirage chuckles, "Served him right. Such a terrible way to treat such a rarity."
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Post by Perceptor on Jul 31, 2009 15:54:20 GMT -5
Perceptor tilts his head and condiers that for a long moment before muttering something about a methanol additive and jotting more notes.
"Describe the Gardens of Helix to me, please?" he asks as he begins pulling out flasks and tubes and a small distilation apparatus. More than mere idle talk, that request. Often times, such rate compounds are inspired by specific features of the locales with which they are associated. In some cases, they are even produced using components from such places.
Flasks of liquids and small jars of powdered chemicals join the collection of tubes and bottle waiting on the workbench. Such a shame he is missing what a pretty picture Mirage makes lounging there as he begins measuring out strange colored liquids in tiny amounts and doles them out into the test tubes carefullu.
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Post by Mirage on Jul 31, 2009 16:29:54 GMT -5
"Hmm? The Gardens?"
Mirage shifts a bit in his chair, suddenly uncomfortable with his memories. One of the worst things about this damnable war was what it had done to the beautiful places of his planet.
"Actually, it was a part of the gardens at Praxus. The Helix Garden was the city's show point, it's crowning gem." His voice has grown a bit softer, "Thousands upon thousands of resonating blue crystals, all suspended in methane gas. Some arranged in familiar shapes, but most in intricate geometric patterns designed to reflect light, color, and shadow."
"It was, once upon a time, the most peaceful place on my planet. A place to reflect, meditate....never the same from visit to visit..."
He shakes his head, then smiles, "But I doubt you ask so that I might regale you with my melancholy musings. So why do you?"
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Post by Perceptor on Jul 31, 2009 17:19:14 GMT -5
Perceptor listens carefully, still dribbling liquids into his test tubes in carefully, precisely measured quantities as Mirage speaks, pausing only once during the recitation with a thoughtful, "Hmmm..."
"Rare vintages are an artform in and of themselves, fully as much as any sculpture or symphony or brilliantly complex bit of mathematical calculation," he explains as he pulls out another apparatus and sets it up, mixing chemicals into the lower chambers before sealing it to capture the gasses emitted by the chemical reaction taking place. "And every bit of artwork requires some sort of inspiration. Something as simple as the trill of a single note from a meteor's demise overhead or dissatisfaction with Pi. Or the methane clouds of the gem of a city."
He uncaps the gas collector and inhales sharply, frowning thoughtfully before he fishes out another pair of jars and measures in precise little amounts of pale green crystals and white powder which are added to the reaction chamber. The gas shifts color to a deep, rich indigo with white misty swirls which, given the satisfied nod Perceptor gives it when he tests the scent again, is apparently what he'd been desiring. A thin, flexible tube is connected to the collector and run to another oddly shaped flask with a U-shaped tube fused to the very bottom of its round bowl. This is then filled with a clear liquid Perceptor decants out of a heavy storage carboy, and the deep indigo mist begins to flow through the tube into the bottom of the flask where it bubbles up through the clear liquid to be collected into another bladder which feeds a tiny compressor that fills small gas cylinders with the excess.
"You said that this particular vintage of which you speak is compounded but rarely, and for a specific cause," Perceptor observes, returning to his test tubes and his datapad with it's neatly scribbled notes. "Why that vintage, then, for that event? Why not another? Often times the inspiration for the art is directly tied to the event or the place which is used to showcase it. In this case, the Helix Gardens."
"Light blue or dark blue?"
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Post by Mirage on Jul 31, 2009 18:07:47 GMT -5
"Ah." Is the only comment Mirage makes as Perceptor waxes scientific. The spy can't help but smile and quirk a brow. He seems to have made Perceptor a happy scientist indeed with his request.
"Neither light nor dark, really, but very brilliant in hue. Bright. Seemingly possessed of an inner glow. Much like the optics of this one darling I remember, right before I kissed him." He smiles fondly at the memory.
He tilts his head as he watches Perceptor, "Close to your own optic color, I'd say actually, now that I have a moment of unhindered study."
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Post by Perceptor on Jul 31, 2009 22:26:05 GMT -5
"Hmm... somewhere between a true sapphire and a cyan then," Perceptor muses absently as he sets the racked tubes out in neatly organized rows. Why, yes, he is still utterly oblivious as the nature of the comment flies right over his head.
He checks back on both the distilation apparatus and the gas collector and bubbler, noting that the once clear fluid is now attaining a bluish tint. He makes a few notes - including the time the bubbler has been working - before decanting off a sample.
"External lighting, or did they produce their own illuminescence?" he asks before carefully measuring in precisely calculated, graduated amounts of the faintly blue fluid into one test tube in each rack, placing the small sample of excess into it's own tube in a waiting rack.
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Post by Mirage on Jul 31, 2009 22:53:35 GMT -5
It's all right for Perceptor to be oblivious. Mirage is actually quite oblivious to the way his comments, his looks and attitude could look to the scientists, because he isn't actively flirting. Mirage is just being Mirage, and compliments fall from his lips as easily as rain falls from the sky.
Though it is quite fascinating to watch the normally reserved scientist in his element.
"Their own, actually, though the crystals were faceted so as to reflect the ground lighting as well."
"What are you doing?"
Yes, he asked.
And no, Mirage doesn't know what he's in for, either.
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