Not Exactly Milliways: Joshua's Lab

[damncompass]

Joshua's Warehouse lab doubles as an office. He has a few chairs, a futon, and some tables around the room. Two of the tables (one round, one rectangular) are plain tables, the round one covered in papers and his laptop, and the rectangular with some science equipment. The other tables are painted purple, neutralizer tables for Joshua's various experiments.

There is also an actual desk with a desktop terminal as well, also covered in papers.

There's a code on the door, but it's one of the worst-kept secrets in the Warehouse. It's probably best if you knock, though.

Comments

[thebettersort]

Pete would probably barge in, but Myka is far more polite. She knocks on the door, trying not to make the sound too jarring in case Joshua is concentrating hard on his work.

Why has she come to knock? The daily mail has came and packages have actually arrived, something that is a very rare occurrence. It's so rare that when she saw that Joshua had a package in there, she figured he would want it as soon as possible. She also received a package from her father with some books he might appreciate, so she wanted to share that as well.

Basically? Mail Call Myka. It's not an excuse to talk to him, she swears.

[damncompass]

Joshua, for once, isn't actually engaged in any scientific pursuits. He's sitting in his desk chair with his feet on the desk and a case report in his lap, resisting the temptation to take a red pen to Pete's latest offering. He's no English scholar here, but seriously, Pete.

He calls out, a bit laxidaisically. "No science going on, come on in."

[thebettersort]

Myka enters with a smile. "Hello, Joshua," she says, and holds out his package for him. "I thought that you might appreciate a mail call."

[damncompass]

"Ha! For once it's actually on time. I'd almost given up on anything getting here anywhere close to when I order it." He takes the box with a grin and opens it none-too-carefully with a pair of scissors. Inside is a t-shirt and a set of coasters.

Joshua grins, and then looks up. "Er, sorry. Bit over-fond of mail order sometimes. Thanks for the mail delivery."

[thebettersort]

Myka looks utterly confuses at the coasters. "Those look strange." Because of course she has not played the game, and her cake has never been a lie.

[damncompass]

"I haven't shown you Portal?" Joshua takes the coasters out and puts them down on his desk. "It's a puzzle game where you make quantum holes in the wall and jump through them." He pauses. "Granted, you're goaded on by a psychotic computer, but it's fascinating and fun."

[thebettersort]

"I don't play video games much. I never knew how to start."

Myka pauses. "Less or more psychotic than a Eureka computer?"

It says a lot that this is her standard.

[damncompass]

"Well, I doubt Eureka computers would have deadly neurotoxin." He makes a face. "It's... well, it's worse than Hugo One, but it's along those lines."

[thebettersort]

"Why would one deliberately subject oneself to that in a videogame? Aren't videogames for fun?"

[damncompass]

"It is fun. GLaDOS is just snarking in the background and she's the final boss. It's actually just mostly puzzles, figuring out the physics of where you need to jump from and where you need to be to get places."

[thebettersort]

"Hmm." Myka thinks about this. "Perhaps you can show me the game sometime."

Pete would die of shock if he heard her right now.

[damncompass]

Joshua grins. "Sure. Whenever." He pushes the case files across the table dropping Pete's notes on top. "Let me know." He pauses. "You doing alright?"

[thebettersort]

"Oh yes," Myka says with a reassuring smile. "It is just a slow day and talking to you is a good way to brighten up any day."

[damncompass]

A tiny blush plays at Joshua's face. "Er, I guess. I've actually been pretty boring lately." Or, really, as boring as someone who administers a super secret Warehouse while poking at its contents on the side can be. "Now that people realize I'm here to do the paperwork, I get to do all of it." Fun, fun fun.

[thebettersort]

"Would you like help?"

Myka has never minded it.

[damncompass]

"Nah. It's all Regent crap anyway, and trying not to take a red pen to Pete's case reports." He stands up, only to sit on his desk and put his feet on his chair.

[thebettersort]

Myka snorts. "I'm guessing you would use most of the ink."

[damncompass]

"Yes, I'm pretty certain I would." He shakes his head. "Never was too fond of correcting papers. The perils of being a TA. Then again, I probably overlooked too much in the bad writing department with lab reports." He was more concerned with the science.

[thebettersort]

"I never imagined lab reports to be poetry. I'm guessing people are more in a hurry to observe."

[damncompass]

"Yeah, and most of the time people don't actually pay attention to how they're writing things." He wrinkles his nose. "One of the reasons I'm really glad I didn't get stuck teaching."

A sigh. "Sorry. You probably don't care about what I thought I'd be doing with my life."

[thebettersort]

"Of course I do," Myka tilts her head at him. "I love learning more about you."

Pause, she tries not to blush.

[damncompass]

"Oh, come on, Myka. I'm not that interesting." Joshua shrugs. "I'm just the geeky scientist who spent twelve years out of time." He laughs a bit. "Like... seriously, I am really one of the least interesting people."

[thebettersort]

"Certainly more interesting than I am." Sometimes Myka feels like the girl who admires everyone and doesn't achieve much herself. But only sometimes.

[damncompass]

"Ok, pardon my language, but that's bullshit. I mean, you know so damn much, you're interesting, you're a fucking Secret Service agent, for fuck's sake, and a damn good one at that, and to top it all off, you pretty much remember anything." Joshua's trying not to blush himself. "How is that not interesting?"

[thebettersort]

"I could argue similar points to you," Myka says. "Perhaps we will both have to accept our own interestingness."

[damncompass]

Joshua snorts. "I guess we could do that." He stands up and eyes the papers on his desk. "Fuck all of this. Are you doing anything in particular?"

[thebettersort]

"Nothing at all. Terrible, slow day."

[damncompass]

"Let's get out of here. I feel like going somewhere that's not the Warehouse." He grabs his bag off of another table. "Featherhead, maybe. Because I'm not really feeling Rapid City today."