ataraxion | audio

I don't know what one ought to look like, but if you've got a picture, I'd be happy to work with you on it.

To be honest, I dunno either. Never seen one myself, I'm just familiar with the product. But all it's gotta be is somethin' that can smash down apples an' collect the juice, so I figure a little ingenuity can go pretty far.

We might need to make parts and I'm not that great at transfiguration, but I know the basic principle. It might be a bit of a mess, but I think we can do it. There's bound to be a book in the library with some pictures.

Oh yeah, that's right, you're one a' the magic kids. I'd be curious to see that, since we don't have anything like that where I'm from.

Great! You just tell me where and when to be.

You got anything goin' on in an hour or two here? I'll be up in the gardens around then. Got a lotta apples to pick, heh.

I'll see what I can find in the library and meet you there.

I can't make something from nothing, so do you have any building materials that we can use?

((Shall we segue into an action spam thread?))

Edited 2013-07-12 23:00 (UTC)

Mm, you wanna just use one a' the big trees on one of the upper floors? Plenty of 'em. Don't think anyone'll miss one.

((indeed!))

I'll see if we've any scrap lying around the flight deck. I'm sure we've a bit of metal or plastic that's going spare.

See you there!

[With a few odds and ends in hand, Harry eventually makes his way to the gardens and where he remembers seeing a few apple trees.]

[Mordecai hasn't been up there long, yet - not long enough to accumulate many apples, anyway. Netherlands may claim that these aren't what he's accustomed to, but Mordecai can't really tell the difference. They look like apples, and hell, they taste apple-like, but given that his experience with the flavor has been entirely limited to the artificial, he admits he's not the best judge. It's the cider he's after, anyway, since that's more to his taste than the wine he made previously. There are probably different varieties of apples here, too, and maybe some are better for making cider, but short of tasting them all, he has a difficult time telling them apart.

It's Mijo, chasing bugs around the trees, who notices Harry first, and he perches on an exposed branch to look down at the new person approaching. Mordecai turns to see what he's looking at, then smiles a little.]

You the kid who's comin' to help out?

[Damn, he should've remembered to ask for his name. Oh well.]

For the cider press, yes.

[His smile is bright and easy, and he moves like someone accustomed to physicality. He could be an athlete; more in line with a runner than a rugby player. As he gets closer, Mordecai can probably pick out his two most prominent scars - one on his forehead and the other running along the back of his hand.

He's brought along a bucket, a thick metal brick, some wire, and a bit of spare gaffer tape. It's not necessarily the most useful collection of things, but it's a start.]

I'm Harry.

Harry, huh? Name's Mordecai.

[He steps away from the tree for a moment to offer a lazy smile and a hand to shake. He notes the scars, of course, especially the one on the boy's forehead since it stands out, but nothing about any of it strikes him as all that unusual. He was surprised upon arriving on the ship how clean and unscarred most of the people here are. City types, most of them, he figures. It's been so long since he's lived that kind of life that he forgets sometimes that most people aren't the type he usually comes across.]

An' that's Mijo, [he adds, with a nod to the bird up in the tree.]

Good to meet both of you.

[He has no problem shaking hands and Mordecai might notice that his skin is calloused, as if he works with his hands a great deal. Wandwork is fine and dandy for magic, but he's not yet willing to risk short-circuiting the shuttles when doing repairs.]

I looked up a few things in the library and I think all we need to do is flatten the apples and strain out anything too big.

Fine with me. Long as it works, I don't really care how it looks. Guess it's gotta either involve a lot of weight, or be able to clamp down pretty hard, though.

[Mechanics are not his specialty, after all. He pauses to unclip the flask at his hip and have a drink, then looks down at the bucket of apples.]

Gotta be able to hold a lotta those at once, too. So, lesse, you found some scrap, there?

[Harry nods in agreement with the description. He's thought of a few basic spells he can alter to provide the pressure, but as they're untested it could all blow up in their faces.

Possibly literally blow up.]

I did. I've the bucket for the juice, the wire and tape to hold anything together, and it might take a while, but I can thin and flatten the metal if we need it. But, I think we should be able to just build a box out of wood and if it's seamed up tight enough, I can magically compress the apples.

[In theory.]

[Well that could be exciting.]

Sounds easy enough. Guess we oughta try it out. Lemme just get a few more to fill up this bucket, an' I guess we should head up a couple levels so we don't accidentally kill someone's favorite tree.

[Not that he'd care, normally, but he doesn't really need Jaye pissed off at him with how she's been lately.]

Sounds like a plan.

[Harry puts down the bucket of supplies and takes a red handkerchief from his back pocket. A few shakes and a muttered latinate word later and it's stretched out to a pannier that ought to work well enough for apple picking.]

I can carry a few as well.

Well, would you look at that. [He shakes his head a little at the transformation, then starts in on collecting more apples.] You happen to know a guy called Sirius Black?

[There's a pause before he speaks. Perhaps he's weighing his words? No, more likely that he just wants to make sure the transfiguration is stable.]

I do, but he's from about twenty, twenty-five years in my past.

Funny how that happens here.

[And what a thing to take as normal, on hearing it. He's never been much of an optimist, but there are those from his past that he certainly misses.]

I just wondered. He an' I talked about magic like that once. He seemed a little too happy to just accept that it exists an' got kinda defensive when I started askin' about how it works.

Hilarious.

[Nothing personal, just that Harry is a bit sharp on the subject of the past at this particular moment.]

And, yeah, that's a real problem we've got. There's no...everything that we have, is what we have, and a few people invent new spells and things, but it's sort of stuck there? I look at what everyone else, all the mundane people, what they're doing and inventing and asking and I'm almost jealous.

A sweet that turns you into a canary is wonderful, but knowing how old the Earth is, how far the stars are, and how the inside of the sun works, that's awesome.

I take it these "mundane people" are ones that don't do magic, right? Why's there so much of a divide? Why not ask those kindsa questions an' have magic at the same time?

[He gets a feeling that there's some kind of huge cultural difference between him and Harry, or their respective worlds, anyway, and it's made up of much more than just having or not having magic. Normally he wouldn't care much but, well, not much else to do here on the ship than talk about weird shit like this.]

The people who do magic, they keep themselves separate and secret and they've done so for so long that they really don't understand or care about the rest of the world. Some people, like me, we're raised by muggles - non-magical people - and we know that there's more out there, but it's always one or the other. You can't have both.

[He frowns, trying to come up with a reason why they're practically xenophobic.]

I don't know why people don't ask those questions. I think it's just not the done thing. Dangerous or rude, maybe?

An' I take it the few people who try to bridge that gap are shunned, huh? Damn. This place must be pretty different for you, then.

[He gathers the last apple needed to fill his bucket, then out of curiosity, picks another and has a bite. It's... nice. Sweeter than he expected. A lot less tart. Should make some good cider, he decides.]

It is, but not in a bad way. I know that I'm in the minority, but I've liked a lot of my time here. It's a break, that's for sure, and it's been a lot safer than home.

Most a' the people who like it here better are dead back home.

[So, you know, that's a thing. He has another bite of his apple, then shrugs.]

To each his own, I guess. I'd agree this place is a lot safer than where I came from too, but I can't wait to get the hell outta here an' go back there.

Are there a lot of people who've come here after dying?

[Harry reaches up and pulls down an apple to eat while they chat and carry in their harvest.]

Dunno about a lot, but I've met a few. One of them, I knew before he showed up here, from home. He sure didn't remember bein' dead.

[But that's okay, because Mordecai fixed that little problem.]

I've got a couple containers to hold the juice in up on the fourth floor. Figured if we set up there, nobody'll bother the stuff before it's done since hardly anyone goes up there.

[Harry makes a noncommittal noise about being dead and wishes he could find out who some of these dead people were. He'd like to ask them a few things.]

Sounds like a plan. We just need the boxes to put the apples in, and then I can flatten them.

[Hey look a lift, let's go up a few floors. He sets the bucket down in the meantime - it's gotten kind of heavy after being carried.]

You think you can turn some a' the trees into boxes, then?

I'm not sure, really. I think we'd have better luck finding something premade and then I can just crush the apples with magic.

I'm just not real sure where to find a premade box big enough to hold apples an' sealed enough to let us collect all the juice. We could make some outta scrap, just raid empty rooms for whatever we need, though... Maybe if we hollowed out some a' the cabinets?

That sounds like it ought to work. Maybe we can find a barrel somewhere? Or, I suppose, if we can find a bathtub and stopper it, we can press the apples in there.

Actually, yeah, a tub'd be great, if we had a way to get the juice out easily. Huh. I don't think there's any barrels on the ship, at least not that I know of.

[Meanwhile they're actually bringing the apples farther away from such things, but that's fine. The lift stops on floor four, and he steps out with the bucket, heading toward his brewing setup.]

If we really have to, we can always do it in small batches. There's some real big stockpots in the kitchens. Be easy to bring a few up here, press the apples an' pour out the juice, it'd just take more pressing an' I'm not sure how easy that'll be for you.

Apple- ...Jack.

[He has a lot of questions but this issue of language is his first one.]

Yeah. Pop a batch of fermented apple juice in the deep freezer an' distill it. Easier than tryin' to make a still, anyway.

Ah. Thought y'knew the pirate.

A pirate named Applejack? [He laughs a little.] Y'know, that's not a bad nickname for a pirate.

Speakin' of apples, though, how many different varieties d'you even have in the gardens?

[Uh.

Oh, what the hell. He's letting that slide, for now.]

From earth? Not - a lot. Plenty of shit that's close enough, though.

Close enough's good enough for me. We don't get real apples back home, either, just stuff that's flavored like 'em. Hell, maybe what I think cider's supposed to taste like is completely wrong, for all I know.

How the hell do you know they're not real, then.

Well, 'cause everyone knows. They only grow on a couple planets.

[This is the actual worst tag, but.]

What.

[Literally the only thing he says, and he says it like he's just barked out the word "explain" instead.]

Whaddya mean, what? Some places, the soil's not right I guess, or there's not enough water, or it's too hot, or whatever. An' not everywhere is rich enough to have greenhouses an' all that stuff. Lotsa mining planets, lotsa planets run by military, places like that aren't gonna have apple orchards.

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