[ It's a hard read on her reaction, just as much because Tony is getting to his feet as he is disoriented by her whole everything. He rattles the cardboard box a bit. ]
You wanted pictures, [ he says. ] I'm a little rusty, so go easy.
[It's clear from her sidelong look that there is a conclusion there she hasn't drawn. So she pops the cap on the cylinder and dumps the contents from it, spreading them out over the uneven stacks of books before her.]
[ Several loose leaf pieces of parchment spill out and half uncurl. A couple of them are especially large, like a map, and will take some fidgeting to show up their contents. But all space is used to its best potential.
Mechanical renderings to scale depict an exploded version of the compact device in his chest. Perfect circles, straight lines, the kind of practiced precision of the anal-retentive. Labels and shorthand explanations fill in the gaps. Materials, minerals, equations. All the guesswork distilled into conclusions, the broad explanations snapped into specifics.
And ugh, watching people open presents is the worst. He should have just thrown this thing through the window. ]
Should be all you need, [ he says, raccoonfidgeting a twist from the box as he starts a wander for the door. ] You know where to find me if it's not.
[It's as she suspected, she thinks - that use of different metals in the casing and its lining to offset any expansion or contraction in response to the energy the lyrium might emit. It's a clever trick.
If she waited a few more seconds, he'd make it all the way through the door and be gone. She is very close to letting him go.]
[ Tony pivots at the door with some immediacy when she speaks, catching himself there with a semi-free hand (baked good trapped in fingers), and his expression conveys some amount of blank uncertainty around the shape and form of this.
Olive branch? Jury's out. ]
Mr Moneybags? [ he says. ] Okay.
[ He was never the guy to lay the groundwork when it came to clients, associates, etc. They were already bought by the time he showed up. ]
[While continuing to thumb through the schematics:]
He knows about the direction of the project, and not to say anything to the Provost until we have a working prototype. And he knows that we will need refined lyrium for it and I have given him a new list of required materials and so on and so forth, though I have yet to share the specifics of the updated designs yet. And he will want to be involved in the testing, should it ever come to that. Evidently the man has a passion for explosives and so on.
[He knows enough, is the moral of this story. With a shrug, Wysteria begins rolling the papers back up. It takes a little work to get them all realigned and in the right size fit for cramming back into the cylinder.]
[ Microscopes on pedestals. Tony watches her for a little while longer as though maybe there is more to say before he takes a generous bite out of his cinnamon twist. ]
Thanks for the head up, [ he says, around it, ] and try not to vanish into star dust anytime soon. I still need you for things.
[ No particular emphasis on the I or the you. But if she's as clever as all that, she's got the fundamentals of what he can offer in her hot little hands. ]
Bye, [ is barky and abrupt, as is his disappearance from the door. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
You wanted pictures, [ he says. ] I'm a little rusty, so go easy.
no subject
Oh.
no subject
Mechanical renderings to scale depict an exploded version of the compact device in his chest. Perfect circles, straight lines, the kind of practiced precision of the anal-retentive. Labels and shorthand explanations fill in the gaps. Materials, minerals, equations. All the guesswork distilled into conclusions, the broad explanations snapped into specifics.
And ugh, watching people open presents is the worst. He should have just thrown this thing through the window. ]
Should be all you need, [ he says, raccoonfidgeting a twist from the box as he starts a wander for the door. ] You know where to find me if it's not.
no subject
If she waited a few more seconds, he'd make it all the way through the door and be gone. She is very close to letting him go.]
I told de Foncé about you and Ellis. Just in case. [without looking up; picking at her fingernails as she studies the schematics.] I'm certain he'd come seek you out so there's really no pointing me even telling you now, but I suppose it's a kindness to warn you. The man is relentless.
no subject
Olive branch? Jury's out. ]
Mr Moneybags? [ he says. ] Okay.
[ He was never the guy to lay the groundwork when it came to clients, associates, etc. They were already bought by the time he showed up. ]
What does he know?
no subject
He knows about the direction of the project, and not to say anything to the Provost until we have a working prototype. And he knows that we will need refined lyrium for it and I have given him a new list of required materials and so on and so forth, though I have yet to share the specifics of the updated designs yet. And he will want to be involved in the testing, should it ever come to that. Evidently the man has a passion for explosives and so on.
[He knows enough, is the moral of this story. With a shrug, Wysteria begins rolling the papers back up. It takes a little work to get them all realigned and in the right size fit for cramming back into the cylinder.]
But I'm not telling you because I need your help. I'm just saying so should it fall to you, and you or de Foncé or whomever else decides something should be done with it instead of putting the whole idea on some shelf.
no subject
Thanks for the head up, [ he says, around it, ] and try not to vanish into star dust anytime soon. I still need you for things.
[ No particular emphasis on the I or the you. But if she's as clever as all that, she's got the fundamentals of what he can offer in her hot little hands. ]
Bye, [ is barky and abrupt, as is his disappearance from the door. ]