[OPEN] [Groundhog Day Brainstorming Post, backdated to the fourth February 2nd.] TIME IS FLEETING...

[where_the_hearth_is]

Who: A bunch of nerds. Everybody who wants to brainstorm on fixing the Groundhog Day situation.
When: Noon->afternoon->evening on the fourth iteration of February 2nd.
Where: The House.
Summary: TIME IS WEIRD WHAT DO
Warnings: Should be pretty clean.



The House directs them all to the ballroom, a broad expanse of elaborately inlaid stone dotted with clusters of cozy chairs. Drones scoot about the room, offering plates of delicious little sandwiches, coffee, juice, and tea. The entire western wall is a single diamond-paned window overlooking the ocean, save the doors set into it that lead out to the balcony. On small tables beside the window are sleek, pen-sized implements not unlike a tablet stylus, that everyone can use to write out ideas, equations, or conceptual doodles in the responsive nano-circuitry lacing the window. Make yourselves comfortable.

OOC: Discuss ideas in small groups or larger ones, with subthreads as necessary. Feel free to ask the House to run statistical models for you. Inhabitants of the House may mingle as well, if they are so inclined.

Comments

[gaveherwings]

[Dr. Yumeno keeps watching him from the corner of his eye with a wary frown of concern.

After that network post... that blade-to-the-hand theory- well, there's much he'd like to say about that. No, not to say so much as ask. And not interrogate so much as listen to what remains unsaid about the entire gesture. It had left him too uncomfortable for responding then, and too guilty afterwards, for failing to.

Beyond that, he has little to contribute to the discussions other than a practical sounding board. A medical doctor, even one from a city as advanced in it's internalized systems and a computerized counting of the days as Romdeau, has no extensive background in magic, quantum theory, dimensional science, or other metaphysical phenomena.

His new 'power's lie with accelerating the aging process, though, and his sense of internal clock is close to impeccable- so perhaps it's a field well worth a dabbling hand in, something to consider for his own edification.]

[underachiever]

[He can tell he's being watched. It breaks his concentration - and it might as well, really, because at this point he's been going in circles for days. He'd managed to work out everything he needed to know except how to fix it. Since he doesn't know how to override the Core's power, he's practically useless here.

So he turns and directs a questioning glance to the doctor.]

[gaveherwings]

[Daedalus' eyes drop pointedly to his hand, in silent question.]

[underachiever]

[Oh, that. He chuckles quietly, holding his hand up. It's flawless, of course. Perfectly regenerated.]

It went just like I thought it would.

[gaveherwings]

[The doctor nods uneasily, mouth pursing before he glances away.]

There were probably less visceral experiments to be done, you know.

[underachiever]

Not for what I wanted to test.