fandomhigh | Applied Science | Monday

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Applied Science | Monday | 11.02

Tyler was late this morning, and looked a little scruffy.

... someone might have been a little hungover from some birthday drinking.

The fantastic role model tossed directions and boxes of popsicle sticks down on the lab tables.

"We're building catapults," he announced, and gave the world's shortest and sketchiest lecture on what a catapult was. "It's teaching .. engineering. And physics."

"Work together," he added, then looked at the student he had reason to assume was the despoiler of poor Smoochy "Miss Yamanaka, I'd like a second of your time after class."

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Ben was building a catapult with a laser-like attention to detail today. Some people drank to repress bad memories. Ben made things.

And this was rapidly becoming the most complicated class-project catapult ever.

//That,// Jono noted, leaning over and looking at Ben's handiwork, //looks like a little bit of brilliance, wrapped in a shroud of popsicle sticks and eccentricity.//

Which meant that, naturally, he approved.

Ben gave Jono a slightly forced smile. "Building things is kind of what I do," he said. "Usually popsicle sticks aren't my preferred medium."

Jono didn't have to force a smile simply because he couldn't smile in the first place. Sometimes, he was lucky that way.

//Think of it as a challenge, perhaps,// he offered, a bit of an off-note in his own voice. //If that doesn't work, I suppose we could make a project of it after class using something a little more sturdy.//

Ben tilted his head, noticing the tone change. "You okay?"

Other people's potential problems were so much more interesting than his own.

//Weird weekend,// Jono replied, lifting a shoulder idly. //Bit of figuring out t'do, though I wouldn't worry about it too much here and now, mate.//

Not while there were shiny distractions to be had, right? He was British, and he had enough problems on his plate without babbling about weird emotions and relationship issues.

//And yer? Yer smile seemed off, for a moment there.//

Ben waved his hand equally idly. "Nothing to worry about," he said. "We should probably be concentrating on schoolwork anyway, right?"

See Ben. See Ben deflect. Deflect, Ben, deflect!

All they really needed as a nifty 'Ka-PWING' sound effect! Watch the issues as they bounce harmlessly away!

//Something like that,// Jono agreed, idly reaching a finger to poke at the popsicle sticks. //Yer've got some modifications to the original plans going on, there?//

Ben nodded and babbled for a good five minutes about trajectories and stress adjustments on popsicle sticks. The gist? He'd managed to get projectiles to go three times as far as they normally should.

Which was impressive, really, even if a bit of it here and there wasn't entirely sinking in to Jono's brain matter, this morning. Maybe instead of trying to fully comprehend it, he would just make himself useful.

//Is there anything I can help with while yer go about this?// He attempted a somewhat wry look. //I'm half-decent at passing rubber bands and tape, I've been told.//

"Sure!" Ben said, happily giving instructions for how Jono could help. "And then we can declare war on some of our classmates!"

Mmm. Catharsis.

Delicious, delicious catharsis.

//It'd be that much more satisfying if we set up just out of their range,// Jono decided. //Close enough to be able to use their own ammunition against them once it lands.//

"Brilliant," Ben declared, a positively fiendish gleam in his eyes.

And this was why it was dangerous when these two boys were allowed to build things together.

Jonothon reached for the rubber bands, and then got to work, doing as Ben had instructed him to do. Mindless busy work made for wonderful distractions, too.

//So, what're we going to launch?//

"Paperclips?" Ben suggested. "Wads of paper? Little bitty rocks?"

//Eraser pieces,// Jono contributed. //Spitballs, perhaps, if yer not adverse to bein' the one to make them.//

See? There was yet another downside to having no mouth. A sacred high-school tradition was completely lost to him, now.

Ben wrinkled up his nose in a way unbefitting a fifteen year old boy. "Biological warfare?"

Which was a reply that Jono had not been expecting, and it earned a wrinkled nose in response as he replied, somewhat incredulously, //Only if yer spit's got venom in it, mate. Or yer diseased and it happens to be highly contagious.//

"But that's gross," Ben said.

It was a little obvious that Ben had not spent much time with his own age group, huh?

Just a little bit. Jono wasn't going to hold it against Ben, though.

//And that,// he said, //is the entire point. Yer've never actually heard of a spitball before, have yer?//

Poor Ben. Jono would absolutely explain, if he felt the need.

Ben's cheeks flushed to try to match his hair. "That obvious, huh?"

//Yer not exactly from around here,// Jono pointed out, a smirk apparent in his eyes. //I'll try not to hold that against yer.//

"I appreciate it," Ben said with a tiny smile.

//Thought yer might,// Jono mused, and then he picked up a sheet of paper and tore a corner off, rolling it into a tiny ball between his fingertips. //They're fairly common in most Earth schools,// he added. //Chew on a piece of paper for a while, pull the insides out of a pen or use a drinking straw, and blow-dart it at somebody yer don't particularly like.//

Or at the ceiling. It was fun when you got it to stick up there!

//Serves no purpose whatsoever except to be disgusting and bloody annoying, really.//

"Ew," Ben said. Eloquently.

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