ataraxion | oo5. video.

[ Charles has dimmed the lights in this corner of the science department, working by lamp light; he has his comms device angled against something so he doesn't have to hold it in address. He's seated at a work station, with a mug of some form of beverage just in view.

It's been a while since he's done this. ]

Hello. This is Professor Charles Xavier, of Xenogen.

[ A little different, from the last time he was here. Beardier. Those that know him more recently can mark the haircut. There is scattered grey amongst the dark. He speaks plainly, like a man who has long since accepted that everything he has to say about this place is ridiculous, so let's just get on with it, shall we. ]

Since the power outage and mural phenomena, there's been some changes on level three of the science department. Inexplicable ones. Equipment we've not seen before has appeared, along with shifts in space and work stations to accommodate new ones appearing out've

[ fucking ]

nowhere.

If anyone has experience with high tech lab equipment, I'd like some assistance in identification.

From what I can tell so far, I suspect we're looking at appliances that have much to do with genetics research, or-- [ he hesitates, as if unsure he wants to commit to deduction, but oh well ] --nanotechnology.

On that note, for experts in the latter thing, or anyone who holds some familiarity with it at all, I'd very much appreciate a conversation, if you're amenable. I'd like to get a better grasp on the topic.

[ One hand goes to take up his tea (it's probably tea), and the other goes to switch off the feed, with one parting word; ]

Cheers.

[ ooc ; for anyone taking him up on high level science talks, i fully anticipate some handwavium as needed, so come at me. ]

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( probably best not to speculate on what habits mila has developed over the years with regard to appropriate laboratory behaviour, between etherites existing and verbena existing. as they are equally - well maybe actually a little more on her side of the see-saw, because her corresponding reaction is just to sort of wish she were smoking right now. it's slightly abstract, but not entirely. the point is, she minds any glass and briefly, vaguely misses kevin and his accusations that she'd turned into an irresponsible hippie.

she doesn't miss him that much, he was a dick. charles is probably better company. she should probably spend enough time with people here (when they aren't sick or bleeding) to find out which of them aren't stupid or assholes, it's a whole thing. )

Bad habit. ( she finds a stool, anyway, and sits. balances her feet on it. ) So, a conversation.

[ Speaking of irresponsible hippies, he picks up a little silvery container that was probably not designed to hold cigarettes but has been repurposed to do so all the same. He holds it out for her to take one because he's a telepath, and gestures to the

bunsen burner

he is unironically using as a lighter. ]

I'll try to keep it from being completely one sided.

( you don't actually have to be a telepath to catch the ...telepath, right moment as it happens. is that irony? mila lights her cigarette off the bunsen burner and salutes with it as a thank you instead of developing that train of thought any further; she relaxes, a little more, as smoke curls in the air between them. )

Genetics isn't really my area. When I got into biomedical engineering it was by way of medical prosthetics and branching out into other avenues of R&D for therapeutic solutions. That's the kind of angle I was coming at nanotechnology from. Given how it gets used here, you can see why I might take care choosing which hill I want to die on.

Figuratively.

( probably. you never know, some of the people here are kind of moody. but she'd been interested in actually discussing it with him, not inviting circular arguments about how all scientists are bastards because of reasons. )

It's tricky. We have a population of people who are quite unused to this measure of hard scientific invasiveness, myself included -- a measure which seems at times to protect us, and at other times, to keep us on a sort of leash, and was possibly the cause of things such as the manticores. I'm not entirely without sympathy.

[ But. You know. Fucking plebeians. He taps some ash into the cup that has about two teaspoons worth of stone cold over-sugared tea in it. ]

All the more reason to know what we're up against, I'd say. I'd be curious to know what you know regarding neuroscience and nanotechnology. Affecting mood, behaviours. Thought.

( what mila knows about both of those things takes some time to work through, batting back and forth; eventually, she ashes out the last dreg of her cigarette against the inside of the cup serving for impromptu ashtray and leans back a little, exhaling. the problem with all of this is that even the ship's own rules as they're able to learn them seem to choose when they do and don't feel like applying. it's frustrating, how little she can be sure that the knowledge she worked so long and so hard for is worth anything whatsoever.

she retired, but she didn't stop giving a damn about everything she accomplished. this ship renders them as relevant as it feels like they should be. --she isn't sure the personification is so irrational. she wants it to be. )

I'd be surprised if none of that was being exploited more subtly.

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