08.07.3013: Just the Sploich I Was Looking For
Summary: Demos seeks out Brigham at the Academ, then stumbles upon him.
Date: 7th August 2013
Related: None
Brigham Demos 


The Quad - Academ
This is just one of the many quads scattered throughout the Academ — even if it is one of the largest. It is truly nothing more than a stretched of neatly manicured lawn that is divided up with concrete pathways that strategically lead toward little clusters of stone benches. At the center of the quad is a magificent, hectagonal basin with a tall enough rim to allow people to sit and relax before the water. This quad lays before the grand tower of the Imperius Library — a tall, looming spire with a stained-glass crown. There are various buildings also attached to this quad that host a variety of scholarly schools and classrooms.
08.07.3013

One morning, Demos founds himself leaving the Ring and visiting upon the Academ. Though finished with his own studies, there was the library, there was colleagues, then there was the prodigy. The boy genius who couldn't quite settle but hovered around the hard sciences like a metal moth to a magnetic flame. The scholar errant found himself back on the quads, walking past the pits and the water features heading for the labs. Hopefuly he might find the young man, working on his own self-driven agenda, working towards a degree and probably marvelling whichever full scholar had him under his wings, bypassing whatever goals where set for the term and moving into his own realm. On his way, if any other students were out waiting for term to start, Demos figures these are the ones that care. They're here and settled in, most likely in summer long classes without a break, doing their own lab work and the like. The geeks versus those members of other disciplines like economics or fine arts. Making his way across the Academ campus, he will ask them for the young Lord Brigham Peake and where he might be found.

Brigham can currently be found in the center of the quad, running about in circles, first one way, then seeing someone, turning and running the other way, "MAKE A HOLE MAKEAHOLE!!" he shouts, holding a cylinder about three feet tall and a foot around that's currently pouring out copious amounts of an orangeish smoke that's apparently heavier then air as it's collecting about the ground in the center of the quad, "Don't breath!" he shouts then, instantly taking a deep breath and trying to hold it. Which causes him to inhale a little of the gas. Which causes him to turn a soft shade of green. And then vomit. Copiously. The violent motion sends the metal container tumbling from his fingers where upon it GONG!s loudly on the path and rolls in a little circle, explosively pumping out the orange gas in a manner that honestly makes one consider if there's a worm hole at the bottom of the thing linked to a nebula somewhere. Cause… that's a LOT of smoke. "RUN!!" Brigham suggests before putting a hand atop his hat and turning to high tail it like a crazy person in the first direction that will take him /away/ from the growing cloud of thick vapor.

Not needing a second opinion on running, Demos turns an eye to see that everyone else is, before going in the direcition the man with the hat is running just the same. More like an intercept course than running, unless he looks over his shoulder and the smoke is growing that much that he has to run. Seeing the lad vomited, that is a situation that the geologist wants to avoid just the same. On that course towards Brigham, he'll call out, a slight panic maybe, "What's in it?! What is it?!" As if knowing a little something might help him determine if he needs to do something or needs to run faster.

Brigham is surprisingly fleet of foot for such a little guy, "Oh you know!" he pants as he flees, "Little of this, little of that, some of that thing I found in that beaker that one time." he explains helpfully. Then he leaps up over a small retaining wall and rolls onto the other side of it before rolling back the way he came and putting himself in the small corner made by the tiny two foot tall wall, cramming himself into the cover it provides. "Hi." he says as Demos joins him, "I'm Brigham. You're gonna wanna stay dow-" and then there's a sound. It's the most disturbing sound one can imagine, well, without being an explosion anyway. Because the sound is… moist. And sploichy. And a little gooey. Possibly even sproingy. A small wave of something washes up against the retianing wall with another moist sound. Brigham ahems softly and pulls a collapsing nano-fiber umbrella frame from his backpack, which pops open at the press of a button. He holds it up over his head. "Preparedness is impotant." he states to Demos as 10,000,000 more moist sounds come, this time in the form of a rain of large orangey 'drops' roughly the size of large coins, falling from the sky. These have very little weight, they are more foamy then liquid, but they cling together a bit like a gel might. Brigham's umbrella preperation keeps him in a small circle of completely clean space. "So. Who're you?" he asks with a grin, ignoring what's going on around them entirely.

Sort of ducking, not looking back, but unsure how far down he needs to be, Demos keeps his eyes averted from the other side of the wall at least but isn't sure if covering is part of ducking. Somewhere with his hands deciding what to do, the orange goop/foam rains down and he receives some of it. "Demos Osteros … geologist," as if that might help place him, or give him some purpose here. His hand tries to cover some of his head, but he gives up, letting whatever splatter is left fall atop his bald head. "I've come looking for …" A pause as a few more splatters echoing in their splouchy-ness on that baldness, reminants only hopefully and not some indication a storm is brewing from the orange cloud to rain more this day on him. A sigh, " … You."

Brigham waits a few more moments before closing the umbrella… but he doesn't put it down first. So all the bits that collected on the item slide off it's now missing cannopy and PLOP directly onto Brigham's head, coating his hat, and his shoulders, liberally. "… … …I suppose I had that coming." he states dryly before he turns to look and see the damage. Which is… considerable. There is a two foot thick layer of orange foamy gelly stuff coating everything from the epicenter out for nearly thirty meters, and a 'splash' zone of another forty meters beyond that where things are coated with droplets and ploplets. Brigham stands, looks around with a shiftyeye and turns to begin walking away, whisteling and looking for all the world like a guilty man trying to be innocent, his hand clasps behind his back. He jerks his head at Demos to follow, "So. What can I do for you?" he says, continuing to cast suspicious looks around him as people begin to sort out what's just occured and how best to get the stuff off themselves. Brigham has no intention of sticking around and claiming credit for the spectacle. At all. He's still in trouble for that 'issue' with the chemical hood in the Advanced Chem lab. Totally not his fault! Not even a little. Nope.

"That," Demos says, measuring his words and his thoughts, "Remains to be seen." He bypassed the full scholar gig, left the Academ after graduate level education, does his own research. Its not his problem either, so he follows right along. While his clothes are made for the lab, he's still unsure if he wants it lingering on him and he's wiping shoulders, patting and swatting away to get most of it off, as much as he can. "A situation. Hydrogen sulfide at a 15 percent concentration … wait, no." He rethinks that, "Hydrogen present in a moist atmosphere meets pyrite. Well pyrite extract meets oxygen in an atmosphere, sulfiric acid is produced, reducing the content of the natural moisture, hydrogen converts to hydrogen sulfide at a 15 percent concentration. That meets atmospheric plasma mining with CO2 lasers …" Atmospheric spark meets explosive atmosphere, the geologist give him enough to work it out (or continues right away if he is already on that part), "But … contained, how can it be contained, and utilized as an energy source …." That is the question, the last bits.

Demos will find that the stuff is like water beaded on glass, it bubbles up a bit, but if touched, just slides around on whatever surface it's attached to without letting go. Sort of like pushing an ice cube around on the same glass water was beaded upon. Only if the ice cube was gooey. Which just means it moves around but doesn't come off. Even the spots on his bald head. Brigham is spraying himself with a can while Demos talks, and the spots on him seem to be simply releasing and falling to the side walk where they hit with a 'tink' sound of hardness. "Hrm." he stops walking and taps his lip, considering. Seeing Demos' fight with the goo, he hands over the spray can and continues to think, "You would need to introduce a stabalizing agent, or even perhaps a neutralizing agent into it, slowing down the reaction to such a speed as to make it useable as a power source. So instead of BOOM you get sizzle. Slow continuous conflagration versus sudden excited explosion." he suggests.

Torn between watching the beads on him and listening, Demos notices the can eventually, "May I?" He asks, to borrow the can. Either case, when a solution involving stabilizing and slowing the reaction comes out. "Ah, you're reputation procedes you. I have the geology near the atmosphere that may produce this potential. Following natural trends of human mining, I suspect they will reach it in a century or two - the explosive part. Preparedness though," grins Demos for the moment. "Atmosphere and the chemistry there is beyond me, if I send you some samples, do you think you could find the stablizing reagent in the haystack? It would reserve a natural resource for energy consumption before its burned away and squandered." He makes no motion to preserve the atmosphere or the climate, but to turn it to something beneficial for the System.

Brigham shrugs at that, "I've got like a billion irons in the fire right now but what's one more once you reach that number? I can't promise anything, I tend to get… distracted. But I'll give it a shot. Maybe we can make something super cool out of it all." geology is /so/ not his thing, but chemistry obviously is.

Grinning a little, Demos nods, "Definitely, think about it, a couple centuries to come up with an answer leaves some time to put it on the back burner, maybe it'll solve itself. If you really want to think about it, work out the laser and the gas and making your own atmospheric aurora. The universe could use more plasma shows." That seems settled, little more he could ask for, but as if he's heard it through the same grapevine, "And, have you settled on anything yet, if you finished a thesis and defended, you'd have more control of all those irons, distractions and all."

Brigham nods his head, "It does take the preassure off." he admits. "Um. Thesis?" he asks, looking a little pale. "Yeah. No. I have other studies I'm working on currently, research projects and fellowships that need tending. That's all… later."

Fade, light topics, Demos says don't put it off, Brigham is distracted, science mayhem resumes.

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