TEST DRIVE #6

[fairyfoes]

TEST DRIVE MEME

Considering apping to EACHDRAIDH? Why not give the setting a test run here! OPTIONAL SCENARIOS 01. ARRIVING IN THE DRABWURLD. The Seelie and Unseelie courts welcome you with mirthful revelry and hearty food. After you have been briefed on your purpose here, you will find an endless feast and a night filled with entertainment to placate your concerns. Mingle with new arrivals, sneak down the castle halls and make sure your eyes are always on your glass; fairies and imps have no bias when it comes to tricks! 02. THE STATION. Looking for a little slice of home? The Station gives you all that and more. Take advantage of the wifi, have a cup of fairy-brewed coffee (the one they didn't spit in) or sit back and relax on the patio. You can even move your things into one of the available rooms! 03. WILDCARD. Your own scenario! Explore the Drabwurld or simply take advantage of your Locket!

Comments

[birdonym]

[There were a lot of different computers at the time, so the idea that Howard had his own—] I'd be curious to hear about the principles behind your machine. Your man field is—?

[As he asks, he is closing up his laptop and putting away his papers in his messenger bag. They aren't going to dismantle his laptop. But there are others around here and he is perfectly happy to take them apart.

He'll put them back together. Later.]

[stickseller]

Oh, it's just something that helps me in my work. Nothing that could be of much use to anyone else. (WELP. Considering what the man had been looking at earlier, he'll just gloss over the whole weapons bit, especially since his name wasn't recognised. Maybe it's a government coverup after what's going on? He doesn't have time for that.) Aeronautics is my personal favourite, but (His voice changes just a bit, a little more theatrical, though his eyes dance with amusement. It's from his radio commercial ok.) Imagine a world without worry of disease, or hunger. Imagine a world where in just an instant you can be on the other side of the world. Imagine a world where a trip to the moon is as easy as a trip to the Grand Canyon? And don't I owe you all a flying car? (a canned chuckle here, pause for laughter~) We believe that anything is possible. Stark Industries: Better Living Through Technology. The only limit is you.

(He laughs then, more genuine, and shrugs his shoulders.) I like to dabble in chemistry, too, on the side.

(No, no, he wouldn't do that. But yes, Howard will follow like a little duckling right now. Though Harold should just show him how to put it together again. Or let him try. He's used to reverse engineering, at least, so he has a method of taking apart and remembering how to put it all back together again.)

[birdonym]

[He nods at aeronautics, but as Stark goes into his spiel, he can't help but being a little amused. His head quirks to the side and he suggests,] Then you're the face of the inventions as well. [In its own little way, it's a slip: a callback to the division of labour in his own days partnered with Nathan. But it isn't that Finch doesn't respect Howard for it, quite the opposite. Nathan was always an intelligent software engineer, and no doubt this Howard Stark is very smart too, from just the hints of his intelligence he has shown. Rather, Finch doesn't have that skill. It is outside of him. And Finch tends to hold a certain respect for skills he doesn't possess.

Finch changes his mind on the matter of the laptop and instead the mamabird guides the little duckling to a desktop, whose tower he pulls out before him.] It's easier to unscrew the backs of these, and the pieces are less cluttered. [So he pops open the tower and shows the parts pulled together to Howard.

And a little point of curiosity, nudging away at him, sees its opportunity to express itself.]

Would you like to try taking it apart on your own?

[It would be interesting to see what Howard can work out.]

[stickseller]

I am. I built my company up from the ground, so when I was just getting started, I had to front them all. It seemed silly to step back and become the man behind the curtain just because it grew. (And of course he has a PR department and people who help, but for the big stuff he likes to do it himself. Besides, he enjoys the attention. He won't quite admit that, but he truly does. There's a reason he has his...relationships so publicly. All publicity is good publicity. (Except for maybe this last little bit he's been experiencing.)) Besides, why would I want other people getting credit for my ideas anyway?

(That's why he doesn't want anyone stealing his bad babies. Not only that they're extremely volatile and could cause world ending doom, but they're his.

But yes, the little duckling shall currently waddle after in wide eyed wonderment. While he might consider himself one of the greatest minds of his generation, and ones that came before that too, but that doesn't mean he's unable to recognise the genius of others, and acknowledge it. Credit where credit is due, and currently Mamabird knows more about him, so he's eager and willing to learn.

He nods, slowly, eying it up carefully.)

You'll tell me before I pull out some wire that blows this place to smithereens?

(There's a flash of a grin before he pulls a chair up. From his inner breast pocket he pulls out a small leather case, opening it to reveal a small collection of tools, screwdrivers, picks, scissors. Little things that could be necessary in a pinch, sewing supplies included. A gift once upon a time from his butler that he always kept on his person.

The lid is carefully set onto the floor as he looks it over, running a finger across wires and the circuit board. Again he goes into his pocket to pull out a small leather journal that he flips open to an empty page, and soon there's a quick, very basic sketch of it, above it a blank space where, as he begins to unscrew screws, he marks where each comes from with a letter+number that correspond with where he places them above the box, all while murmuring softly to himself.)

So. (He glances quickly to Harold.) What's the difference between this, and the one you have. Besides size?

[birdonym]

[Finch has to smile at that.] Why indeed?

[He watches Stark, genuinely impressed at the kit he keeps on his person. The passion Stark has for his work, regardless of his aptitude, is clear (although it is that aptitude that Finch is measuring).]

Implicitly, portability, of course. You might say size is near-everything. The smaller size of my laptop compared to the desktop you are so skillfully disassembling prohibits it from having a larger processor, among other things. The computer may translate large amounts of data to very small spaces, but it still does require space. As you can imagine, the desktop is also as comparatively easy to repair and customize as it is to disassemble, which can be a great advantage for more demanding work. Excepting the memory and hard drive, all the other components of the laptop are built as one into it, severely limiting any attempt to augment its capabilities.

[stickseller]

(You never know when you're going to stumble upon something you need or want to take apart. As the boy scouts say always prepared, not that he had ever been one of those, but he still took the phrase to heart and tried to live by it.)

Obviously, but I'm guessing yours is still quite powerful? (The rate he was going through what he had spied stumbled upon him working on was, to his eye, quite quick. But this too seemed to have the possibility of that, likely more from what the other was saying.

He nodded along to the words, though he kept his eyes on the machine he was working on, quickly adding each removed piece to his notebook, jotting along notes, keywords of what Harold was saying to the margin.) Are there still ones that take up entire floors of buildings? That's what mine currently does, but compared to what I saw yours doing, mine is as slow as molasses on the coldest day of winter. (Where one might thing he would be annoyed, he mostly sounds vaguely amused by it.

Carefully he unscrewed the hard drive from it, picking it out and examining it.) So a...laptop would be kind of like, a notebook, but the desktop is the heavy duty typewriter you keep at your home desk. (Vaguely. It's the closest he's got at the moment and mostly distracted.)

Is it something everyone has access to, or does it require special permits?

[birdonym]

[He smiles at the question, just a slight quirk of the lips.] Compared to the computers of the time when I first learned to work with them, certainly. But it is not particularly powerful, relative to what is available. [It isn't what he needs his laptop for, after all. Pure processing power can be handled by other machines. (And no need to mention to Howard just how much he has augmented his own laptop despite the difficulties.)]

There are some, although not the ones used for personal work. Any that work through large amounts of information, for example, will take up a great deal of space. [Not naming any supercomputer AI names there. You know who you are, kids.] If we extend your quite apt analogy, those supercomputers would be whole typing pools, and at least one major library attached to it.

There is no permit required, but as you might imagine, the only prohibitive element may be the cost. They're increasingly affordable, but always on a scale.