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Post by Thomas Edison on Jan 30, 2016 10:26:52 GMT
The human mind is uncannily similar to a light bulb. It goes without saying that brains work on a scale millions of times bigger in magnitude, but ultimately, they are both still responsible for the outward expression of a connection that enables the transfer of something, be it energy or information. Though infinitely complex when taken as a whole, the smallest parts that composed the brain were rather simple, in Caster’s mind. It had amused the inventor to discover that light bulbs had become a symbol for ideas since the time of his death. Clearly, he wasn’t the only person to think along the same lines.
With that in mind, it was hard to fault him for having the utmost admiration for the minds responsible for everything within the hangar. Though not exactly known for it, Edison had dabbled in the science of flight. Creating a few helicopters of his own had proved disastrous, with none of them quite capable of achieving safe travel, and though Edison was not known for giving up, he was liable to get distracted by things more important than experiments (namely, other, more fun experiments), so he never got around to perfecting them. Still, the fact that he worked on them in the first place was indicative of a passion for aeronautics that was never quite extinguished.
“The fundamentals of the combustion engine are still in use. The nozzle is a new addition…”
This was evidenced by Edison swiftly walking from vehicle to vehicle, examining each one with care while taking notes (occasionally in verbal rather than written form). He didn’t stop at looking, either. Every once in a while, Caster would actually touch one of the machines or even open up a compartment to look inside, because rules kind of start to lose their meaning when your name is Thomas Edison. One could have been forgiven for thinking that he was working under a deadline, but the truth of the matter was that he was simply too excited to work at a more moderate pace.
The fact that all those wonders and progress made his achievements look small in comparison did lend a rather bittersweet taste to the moment. Any other inventor would have taken comfort in the fact that it was their own efforts that brought about the revolutions that led to the modern age but, in all honesty, Edison simply couldn’t visualize his work as the foundation of these discoveries. Those were inventions on their own right, and he had no right to lay claim to even a part of the credit of these.
Nevertheless, the fact that humanity had validated his philosophy by working so hard and achieving so much made it hard to dampen his spirit. Already, his mind raced, coming up with ideas on how each of these machines could work.
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Post by Baba Yaga on Jan 31, 2016 0:34:34 GMT
A mild sense of disgust and confusion hovered over the witch's face. Upon summoning she had received updates on the basics of the modern world, but these polished brass contraptions still baffled her completly. It seems these people were not content with the already immensly complex structures of organic materials. All of the organs carefully grown and connected, squeezed into a vessel of flesh and bones. And such entity has volition, or at the very least, independent motion. Oh! how she loved indulging in long nights of tearing apart and rebinding bodies, figuring out which tendons move what muscle, how blood flows so neatly in such tiny canals...
Reflecting on this, she recognizes, to herself only, that she kind of admires these intricate metal and lightning machines as well. Robotics, aeronautics they follow the same logic as anatomy, it is the study of motion, of the interior part of things. Two major differences exist however: One is that with machinery, you can create new things and it is encouraged while with organics, its still as demonized as in the middle ages. This Frankenstein fellow she heard about seemed to have suffered greatly from it. The other difference is that with machinery, one needs not care about the subjects potential death.
Its not like Baba cared either, but that is besides the point.
The hangar had a few pilots and other staff roaming around, but one particular man caught her eye. Man, he looked more like a child than anything else really, a pubescent blond boy. He looked like an excited kid in a zoo, looking at every plane like they were lions, elephants or bears. Occasionally he pried open one these gigantic contraptions. She was fairly sure it was forbidden in some way to do what this little man was doing, at least for non-mechanics. Seeing such little delicate hands rummaging so swiftly through such dangerous equipment made her want to watch the inevitable accident happen.
She stalked the boy waiting for some gruesome mutilation but nothing happened. He truely seemed at ease with these apparatus. Bummer.
She was nonetheless curious about him. Hovering slowly towards him, silently as a shadow, she place her hand on his shoulder just as he was neck deep leaning inside an engine.
'Child, settle down for a second... why are you in such rush?"
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Post by Thomas Edison on Feb 9, 2016 22:52:09 GMT
“Hm? Oh, hel—“
A voice brought Edison back from Technologyland. Immediately stopping his examination of a jet engine, he raised his head to meet the person, accidentally hitting it on the cap of the fan as he did so.
A loud thud echoed throughout the hangar. Edison's hand went up to where he was injured. He closed his eyes, trying to hold back the pain.
“…” Give him a moment.
“Hello!” He smiled, as if nothing at all had happened. His hand went back down, with the other grabbing a handkerchief from his pockets to clean the oil he had gotten on them (fortunately, judging from the lack of blood mixed in with the oil, it didn’t seem like Edison was bleeding). In lieu of a handshake, he offered a polite bow.
“Sorry, it’s my first time here. I’m actually taking notes of everything so I can make some adjustments to Chaldea’s vehicles later. I need to work fast if I want to get everything written down today, though. That way, in case the staff kicks me out, it’ll all be in here.” He raised his notes, lightly tapping them with his other hand (Edison couldn't boast of eidetic memory, although people with it had proven an obstacle for him in the past). He said all of this without so much as the slightest hint of concern or shame. Realization did seem to hit him afterwards, however, because he suddenly looked like he had forgotten something very important.
“…Ah. You wouldn’t happen to be part of the staff, right? Because I was just kidding about that last part. Also, the engine was already dismantled when I got here.” Hey, the woman didn't look like part of maintenance (not to mention he could feel the distinct presence of prana coming from her), but then again, Edison didn't look the part of a Servant.
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Post by Baba Yaga on Feb 10, 2016 23:09:12 GMT
The boy remained at ease even this close to the witch. He even mistook her with someone from the staff. Ragged robes and a ravaged face like hers just scream Airplane Technician. Has she been seen around roaming the halls so often her presence has become a mundane thing? The thought made her cringe inside, but however annoyed she was, today was a rare day for the Caster - she was in a good mood. Not that that made her any nicer, but at least murder is not on her list. Besides, the curiosity she held over the blond bloke helped a little, those hazel eyes giving her a sense of bitter-sweet nostalgia.
She replied with a chuckle.
"My dear, do I look like I know the first thing about these contraptions? That said, if such pathethic fibbing does not fool someone technologicly illeterate such as me, they sure won't trick the staff."
Baba Yaga has a knack for guessing what goes on inside people. Call it a monsters intuition. This is quite the litteral and not metaphorical skill. She can sense a growling stomach, a dormant cold or even a growing tumour. This is but a guess and not a medical check-up, so telling people wouldn't be that much of an assistance anyway.
Although he was paying attention to the witch, she could sense the little boy's brain flickering in a frenzy of stiny sparks. Quite peculiar a hunch, but that only spiked her curiosity. What wonders lie within that skull of his.
The idea of a quick lobotomy flashed for an instant in her mind.
"Rest assured, I haven't got the least interest in telling on you. As far as I care, you can dismantle every single one of the vehicles here."
That said, noticing how relativly vacant the hangar was, yet another peculiar thought crossed her mind. Something so wild and bewildering for the witch she took a few moments to assimilate it properly. Seeing a bit of her own dissecting nature in the boy (His coloured chrome, hers painted crimson) she considered... giving him a hand.
She was bored anyway, and who knows, he might slice his hand on a turbine. She does a good deed and still sees some carnage. Win/Win.
Smiling like a cat to a mouse, she whispered him a proposal, leaning a bit further, lowering her head to his height.
"Say, you seem to be having fun aren't you? Would be a shame if someone came and ruined it for you... How about i get rid of these pilots and mechanics and you can get to your business in peace?"
Her soft yet sharp murmurs, like mouldy drafts made her proposal feel like a deal with the devil. It was up to the child to figure if and what strings were attached to this agreement...
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