ArchivedLogs:Flying Squirrels

Flying Squirrels
Dramatis Personae Mary, B, Micah
In Absentia	11 November 2014 '
Location <XS> Forest
Quiet and shady, the trees rise all around here high and thick. In stillness, woodland creatures make appearances, though sudden noises scare them back into the cover. Dappled sunlight filters down between the thick foliage, and the ground underfoot is heavily overgrown, though here and there paths have been worn, by deer or years of students wandering familiar trails. She has a pet. A green anole, to be specific. And by pet, it may actually just be a lizard that fell on her shoulder, and she refused to move it. In fact, considering the expressionless face, lack of real body language, and disconcerting lack of normal physiological reaction, and it suddenly seems much more likely that it is simply itinerant wildlife she has not seen fit to remove from her person. Whatever the case, though, she's jogging. She's got her sweats and everything on. More, she's got her learning face on, and her eye-patch rather than her prosthetic eye. Her breathing is currently smooth and even. Every stride the exact same length and step as the previous in an unending rhythm. That's right people, it's another robo-teacher. She's not even using the flashlight at her hip, though she certainly has one. "Path 3, likely candidate for class study, consider for days of low student interest." Mary isn't alone out here tonight in her jogging. There's the usual complement of Nighttime Forest noises; crickets chirping and an owl somewhere distant, the skitter of small feet in the crunching leaves -- mostly running /away/ from the sound of footsteps. Also the crunch-shift of /bigger/ things moving out there. It doesn't sound very much like human footsteps, its rhythm wrong for anything bipedal, though it's swift and even as well in a smooth lope through the forest. Heading towards Mary, unlike the rest of nighttime creatures that tend to be scared off. B also doesn't use a flashlight -- isn't even carrying one. Not carrying /anything/, as a matter of fact, save for a /large/ amount of blood streaked over hir hands and bare flat chest -- the unseasonably mild weather has prompted hir to leave hir clothes... somewhere. Not /on/ hir, that's for sure. It's possibly bashfulness over this or possibly just uncertainty about encountering another /person/ out here at night that pulls hir to a stop sharply by the edge of the path, just a tiiiny waifish (bloody) (toothy) silhouette peering out with enormous eyes that carry a faint reflective shine. Well, somebody has to be the one fumbling about in the dark with a flashlight, and that someone is Micah. Stumbling over roots and random things on the ground is not exactly a fun experience working with sensory feedback from only one foot. The orange-and-black snake light is wrapped around his neck like a second scarf, right over the candy corn striped number actually keeping him warm out here in the dark. The rest of him is equally bundled up, olive newsboy cap over his mussed auburn hair, matching jacket covering most of the rest of his visible clothes, save for a short stretch of faded bluejeans over hiking boots. Apparently he's dressed for heading home soon enough. The woman doesn't have magical nightvision. She can hear the 'creature' drawing closer. Can hear the skitter of its limbs over the ground. See the silhouette and its differences from the patterns around it. For most practical purposes, it's almost as good as being able to see in the dark. Almost. The details escape her. When her flashlight is unclipped and shined carefully in the direction of 'B' (so as not to blind hir), she seems unperturbed by blood and 'sharkishness'. "Ah. You. Did you wish to accompany me on my run." Pause. "I haven't read your file. Are you cleared to be without clothes in the wilderness." Micah is observed more easily, from the approach of his flashlight. Calling out, she beckons,"Micah. I believe I have found Shane's sibling. Have you come to retrieve them?" B's gills shift languidly against hir neck and sides, clawed hands curling down to dig against the earth. Hir head dips, reflexively shifting hir eyes as the flashlight turns on, though ze looks back up when Mary doesn't shine it /in/ hir eyes. "I --" Hesitant, hir cheeks flush a deeper shade of purple at the mention of hir lack of clothes. There's a look of relief that washes across hir face at Micah's familiar scent, and it's rather inhuman the speed with which B darts out from the trees alongside the path to tuck hirself (blood and all) behind hir father's legs. "... I was getting dinner," ze explains apologetically, "I didn't -- it's usually quiet out -- my clothes are by the. Lake. I don't -- know if there's a. Clearance for that, ma'am, um, I just. It's easier to. Move." Hir fist circles against hir chest though this is half-hidden behind a Micah. It's Mary's voice more than her figure that identifies her to Micah, squinting at her in the questionable illumination of the flashlight outdoors as he is. "Was hopin' I might run into B out here, yes. Not so much /retrieval/ as stoppin' by." He chuckles a bit at the question she poses to the sharkpup. "Ain't a matter of clearance. Ze's been out here huntin' an' clothes just get all kindsa in the way, usin' hir method of huntin'. Get all bloody-messed b'sides. S'more efficient without 'em." It is with a practiced ease that he reaches out to scruff at B's spiky hair. "I'd be freezin' m'tail off, but the twins hop in the /lake/ in this weather, so. They're fine." His tone implies that there is nothing unusual going on here. The woman's face turns back to B, head quirking. Her good eye dilates in that way it has of... absorbing,"If you and the rest of the staff know, then all is well, I suppose." Turning off and stowing the flashlight, she approaches the two. "You're Shane's sibling then. Your brother shows great promise. I'm told you play the violin." She pauses to finally pluck the lizard off her shoulder. She just... holds it out to the boy, "I learned it so I might better understand you, but now I think I would be better served by a holistic approach." She crouches in an almost frog-like manner before the child, so as to be on roughly an even level, and another hand is extended, apparently regardless of the blood, this one for a shake,"I am Dr. Carruthers. A pleasure to meet you, B. My apologies for interrupting your meal." She looks up at Micah at this point,"I have never felt comfortable reading much more than the basic notes necessary for identification when dealing with students and personnel, without first meeting them. It is my opinion that such information prejudices one, whether positively or negatively, towards the person in question." "Shane plays the violin," B corrects quietly, head shaking once. "I play guitar, but not -- not like he plays. I just kind of dabble. For fun. He's brilliant." Ze presses further against Micah's legs, nuzzling up against the scruffling hand. At least until Mary comes closer -- the same lightning-speed finds the sharkpup's hand darting out to /snatch/ the proferred lizard from Mary's hand to bring it straight towards hir mouth. Clearly this was an offer of food, right? There's a still-wriggling lizardbody sticking out from hir teeth when Mary gives her introduction. B cautiously extends the other hand for a firm shake. Muffled around mouthful of lizard: "Shane says you're cool. He doesn't ever say that about teachers." “Shane's the violin. B's the robots,” Micah clarifies from the bit of past conversation that Mary is referencing. “Most things're better served by a holistic approach, though. 'Specially when it comes t'people.” There is only the slightest nose crinkle from Micah as the tinylizard meets its toothy doom. “Not so much an interruption as a dessert delivery,” he jokes. “Also, other teacher, right here.” This last is equally playful-teasing. "I suspect I was given wrong information, then. It's not important." A firm shake is returned from Mary, unperturbed by the nomming of the lizard. "If you'd like, I saw some nesting squirrels a few trees back. I can climb up and throw them down to you. It could be fun. I suspect you have EXCELLENT hand-eye coordination." A pause follows,"You're very proud of your brother, but not so easy with attention directed at yourself, I suspect." Another pause, and then she's going on,"I suspect Shane is operating in a different paradigm from his teachers. A size twelve shoe cannot fit in a size six sandal. It will always leave large footprints, but correct footwear is necessary." She turns to Micah then, and notes,"Robotics. I read up on this. I know most of the relevant information, but I lack the context. I found it fascinating reading and look forward to gaining experience and context." She takes her flashlight and flips it up in the air, then catches it,"I suspect B and Shane look at you less as teacher, more as father. I believe the common response might be 'it's not the same'." Crunch, crunch, crunch. B is happily devouring the rest of the lizard, self-conscious hesitance fading with this gift of /food/ and offer of more. Ze even slinks out a little further from behind hir father's legs. "Shane's kind of operating on a different paradigm from most of the world," ze says with a small giggle. The giggle continues as ze looks up at Micah. "... maybe he just doesn't think you're cool." Hir tongue pokes out from between hir lips, first to wipe lizardblood from them but then just to stick out at Micah. Ze looks up further, eying the trees with curiosity. Then Mary with curiosity. "Shane's easy to be proud of." Hir eyes drift further out towards the dark trees. "... Would you like some context?" Micah's expression is odd for a moment. Perhaps picturing Mary pitching squirrels makes for an odd mental image. “You read up on...all of robotics?” Eyebrow. And then tongue, sticking right back out at B. He's not above it. “Hm, you both are.” He reaches out to fuss at B's hair again. Fondly. The woman starts walking to one of the trees, examining it closely in the dark,"That's okay, you know. Knowing who you are in the world... As your father observed, common indications of right and wrong bother me less than function or dysfunction. You and your brother, you... function. That's soothing to me." She starts climbing, almost spider-like once she gets going. It might seem inhuman, though really, it's just expertise and a little bit of help from perfect bodily control. "Well... all of robotics I could find in several libraries anyway. It took me three afternoons. Your father is correct, I think. Both of you would be easy to be proud of. I hope my own daughter grows as well." She looks back over her shoulder as she climb,"Yes. Context would be wonderful, if you wouldn't mind. And tell me when you're ready." B watches Mary scale the tree with just as much curiosity; if the odd nature of her movements bothers the sharkpup it doesn't show, but then, ze isn't exactly the poster child for Normal. "How old is your daughter?" Ze nuzzles up into the fussing again, though hir eyes stay on the tree. "I'm always ready. You learned all of robotics in three afternoons? It took me --" Frown. "Longer. I -- was going to offer to teach you but maybe that's. Not necessary." There goes that eyebrow again as Mary climbs up the tree. Not that Micah /doubted/ she would do what she offered, but somehow her actually /doing/ it is...different. Between the darkness and the odd under-lighting his face is getting from the flashlight around his neck, his faint proud-blush at the compliments to his kids is not so easy to make out. "Sure there's only so much y'can learn from a library, sugar. Ain't really learnin' robotics if y'can't...get your hands on 'em. In 'em. Whatever's needed. Plenty of context y'can offer." His hand remains easily on B's head, offering scritches there, though his body is a little more Alert. There might be squirrels hurled in their direction soon, after all. There's a lot of crashing and noise once she crests a few branches a decent way up. "My daughter is three years old. Of course, my wife says she is too young to tell right now, but I am incredibly certain in a very illogical way, that she is destined for greatness. Would you like to babysit sometime? We pay competitive wages, and we'd love someone who might be willing to help her with a bilingual education." There's a pause as she settles herself on a branch hanging from her knees,"I never said I learned it. I read it. I memorized what was there. You are an intelligent young person. You know there is a difference. Your father is, as ever, quite correct!" The woman calls out, finally,"Be ready!" Soon, a small series of furballs come flying from her position in the tree, spaced out carefully. It's very, very loud, but at least her aim is good. "I memorize information by hearing or reading it. I LEARN SKILLS by seeing them performed." "My dad's often correct." B shifts into a crouch, nostrils flared as Mary rustles her way up into the tree. "I can offer -- well. I have. Some robots -- mrrrrr." Hir words fade into a small happy buzz of purr at the continued scritching, gills working slowly again. They snap shut, weight lunging forward and hands lifting to /snatch/ flying!squirrels straight out of the air. The snatch-grabs are followed by very small /snaps/ -- small lifeless squirrel-bodies set with an odd precise care at Micah's feet. Like a very large blue cat bringing home presents. "... how does that work when it comes to art?" B wonders with sudden interest. "Like painting or music or -- there's so much more /there/ than just. Technical – aptitude." "Oh, that's a good age," Micah replies with a smile that is only /faintly/ wistful. It's the kind of thing that people who like children tend to say about everything short of teenage years. A chuff of laughter comes as B doesn't answer the babysitting offer, moving into an actual chuckle at all of the affirmation going on. "Well, lookit me, knowin' a thing or two." He blinks down at the series of dead squirrels placed at his feet. "Um...thanks?" Not that he expects they're intended /for/ him, just that it's sure what it looks like. "S'one thing t'be able t'paint what y'see. S'another entirely t'paint what y'don't." "I would love to see your robots sometime. If you're proud of them, I'm betting they'll be quite impressive to me as well." With a 'hup' sound from her voice, she drops, twisting in midair, and lands, almost as if from a literal 'ninja-movie' on the ground, then stands, brushing off her hands on her sweats. "I can paint exact replicas of anything I see being painted. I can perfectly copy techniques, brushstrokes, and the like to achieve specific effect if I see them performed. It does not, as such, constitute real effort on my part." She approaches the two of them more directly,"Synthesis requires pain, and toil, and 'bleeding' emotionally. That is where the real joy is, for me. Putting everything I've learned together into something that is,... 'mmmm.... mine." "It's a confusing age. They can barely logic their way out of a box and you're /still/ not supposed to --" B blushes and doesn't finish this sentence, gills fluttering quickly. "Are you part cat?" Snap, snap. B sets the last of the squirrels down, returning to crouch, pleased, over the haul. Ze plucks one almost daintily off the pile, sharp claws lengthening to make a couple deep slit-tears in the hide. Break back the tailbone. Grab the squirrel by its ends and /pull/ to peel its skin off like peeling a fruit. Hir head tips up at Micah's thanks, and with a small closed-lipped smile ze offers Micah the skinned squirrel. Mmm. "There is something -- pretty rewarding. About art. Or -- creating, I guess." “Kinda crazy impressive,” Micah agrees regarding B's robotics endeavours. “Mmn. Got logic. S'just kid logic...look at everythin' dif'rent an' new. S'part of what makes 'em so much fun.” His head shakes at the offer of dead squirrel. “Oh, squirrels're barely worth the effort when y'gotta clean an' cook 'em, less you're /actually/ tryin' t'live off the land. Ain't much left by the time you're done. You go ahead.” His lips pull into a grin at B's talk of creating. “Speakin' of which. Y'wanna help me put a robotic tentacle arm on Flicker?” Just that, no further explanation. "No. I am, in fact, as human as you are. And less physically adept, likely. Balance and control, and thus perfected weight distribution and coordination when moving are cornerstones of my ability use. Unlike things I read, physical acts I see performed... I DO learn. You clean your kills well. It takes most people many tries to take the whole skin at once. And your claws are gorgeously designed for the purpose." She flicks her eye back to Micah, giving the man full attention,"Reciting facts is a trick you can teach a parrot. Teach your children art, and they will grasp two very difficult concepts: Abstraction in thinking, and the concept of work as its own reward." "A fun topic if you haven't already covered it. As Micah points out, they do use 'kid logic'. Both psychosexual and psychosocial development models tend to make room for the idea that childhood development has a period of ego-centrism up into the late juvenile ages. They are, in effect, looking at the universe in relation to themselves, whereas you are looking at yourself in relation to the universe. I rather think I need not explain the difference to you. You are rather exceptional in and of yourself. Yes. Students like you may just make this job satisfying." "You are most proficient with childcare. I often worry my inability to genuinely evince my emotions will damage my child. It will be...useful to have role models, I think. My wife, Erin, has no such difficulty." She makes a noise in the back of her throat in consideration,"A think that occurred to me from interacting with you and your husband. I think our best fortune comes from the ways our family fit so neatly our needs and idiosyncracies." There's the faintest glint of teeth as B's smile pulls wider. Then a bigger one, as ze opens hir mouth to sink teeth into soft warm flesh. "Cook and clean 'em, that /does/ sound like work." Ze certainly doesn't have time for that. Ze licks hir lips hungrily, looking back to Mary. "We cheat. Like if you just collect a /big/ enough family, /everyone's/ strengths and weaknesses'll be balanced for. We just kind of Katamari people up into ours?" Hir eyes have opened wider, and ze scoops the remaining small pile of squirrels into hir arm. "What, like right now?" Cuz ze totally looks /eager/ to go attach robo-tentacle-arms to whoever wants them. "Actually, I might have some ideas about that -- on, um, my computer, c'mon, it's --" Not here in the woods, clearly. B's looking back through the darkness towards the distant grounds and mansion like ze wants to dash off /right now/. "I know, it's /so/ much easier than a huntin' knife." Micah's exceedingly sincere tone implies that this is something he's observed before during hunting trips and field dressing. "Even if it don't show on your face, if you're clear with your words an' actions an' physical affection, it won't matter. S'all more important'n what your face is up to." His smile draws broad and bright between the others' family descriptions. "Ours is bigger'n most. With more'n its share of idiosyncrasies, t'boot." B's enthusiasm sparks a warm, genuine laugh. "Not puttin' it /on/ 'im right now. I still gotta finish the proposal an' get fundin', then we gotta do the ground-buildin' work an' modellin' with Taylor an'... You gotta help me convince Stark he wants t'play with us, too." He chuckles again. "'Course that don't mean we can't do a little brainstormin' an' whatnot while the rest lines itself up. I got a little while 'fore I hafta run t'make it home for puttin' Spence t'bed." His chin lifts to regard Mary, a nod added in her direction. "Good t'see you again. But I think science calls." The woman tips her head to Micah, and actually waves after B,"I still prefer to collect them. Anyway, in a game with no rules, it's only cheating if you fail at it." The woman turns back down the path to begin walking,"Go. Enjoy your... 'tentacle'... I'm sure it will be a wonder to behold when it's done." She laughs a little,"It was good talking to both of you, and also to meet you directly, B. A true pleasure." It's not long before her quiet footsteps put the science-bound well behind her.