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[propulsion]

"You have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark."

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[innerharbor]

[Wait, wait, you were just getting to the good science parts-]

It works.

[He will say it with straight faced certainty later.]

[propulsion]

Right?

[ Vindication.

Okay, moving on. ]

So we're talking short range detection, except in places where the Veil has thinned in widespread patterns to the point of decay—and even then we're talking about a limited area in comparison to the whole continent. Because all a rift is is a tear, a space where the Veil is inactive. Different to how we conceptualise wormholes back home, 'cause the Veil is an active force that separates from system from the other.

Which means what we should be chasing are Veil holes.

[innerharbor]

You think the dead lady's ring gates are veil holes?

[Just clarifying, not arguing. Amos is more of a follower.]

...That needs a better name.

[Veil holes.]

[propulsion]

I guess that's why they went with rifts, huh.

[ We'll workshop it. ]

But mainly I'm talking about Veil weakness. What creates it, what's the pattern, is it environmental, is it something else. And as for these gate things—

I kind of missed the finale? Of the dream adventure? But we know about one. It's a rift, but, uh. Different. Nasty. Still open.

[innerharbor]

Nah, nah, I get it.

[There's no good words for most of this because it's fucking magic. Then again, the guy who named radar probably felt pretty dumb.]

[If he didn't, in Amos' opinion, he should have.]

Yeah. We gotta try'n get some readings on it. See if it gives off Fadiation or something else.

[propulsion]

Yeah unfortunately it sits at the bottom of the Temple of Doom so it's not a casual jaunt, per se, so. Pack a sandwich.

You read up much about the very hilariously named phenomenon known as the Taint?

[innerharbor]

I seen worse.

[He's confident whatever Thedas has to throw at him can't be worse than McElderry in winter. He's been right so far.]

...Now I gotta.

[propulsion]

It's not as titillating as it sounds. It's a transmittable—

[ A slight dad-noise exhale. Fantasy bullshit. ]

—tangible corruption. Manifests as incurable disease as well as actual matter, kind of like a black ooze situation. Anyway. The rift in Ghislain, this gate, was spewing out that. And more so when we tried to close it.

So it's absolutely giving off something else, and it's all nasty.

Worth noting that Corypheus also uses the Taint for purposes most nefarious, but hey, don't we all.

[innerharbor]

Sounds like a pain in the ass.

[Is that a joke? It might be. Amos' delivery is the same flat-voiced minimalism he nearly always has on display.]

You made a hazmat suit yet, Prof?

[propulsion]

[ Joke or not a joke, it gets a cackle out of Tony anyway. But, to business; ]

Uh-uh, but that's not a bad place to start.

And reading up on infectivity in case its transmittable through, like, your dreams, or whatever. You'll find as you play along that the literature can get hilariously medieval-sounding while also being completely accurate to what we're dealing with.

[innerharbor]

You gimme schematics and I'm good to go. [Wait.] And supplies.

More medieval than living in a fuckin' castle? [Because, newsflash, but...]

[propulsion]

Definitely. Maybe you space guys have different standards but sometimes you forget about what we're dealing with until someone's asking you about their imbalanced humours and catching a cold from bad vibes.

[innerharbor]

...Is that a real fucking thing? Are you fucking with me?

[propulsion]

Oh, my god. Dude. Buddy.

I wish.

[innerharbor]

[No one's said 'dude' in like a hundred years, what the fuck.]

[Uh, anyway.]

So if the whole getting home deal doesn't work out, after the war it's making hand sanitizer and teaching these bumpkins not to drink it.

[propulsion]

[ A laugh. A little mean, but like—honestly. ]

We had a nasty bug go round about a year ago, I put out some comms, whipped together a sanitizer, taught some folks the wonders of microorganisms. All due credit to the bumpkins, but team medbay actually adapted their practices.

The spooky torture mage who sided with the Venatori in our dreams? Yeah he's pretty solid, and the Chantry dwarf lady. [ They have names, Tony. ] They disinfect wounds now and everything. Or—probably some of 'em do, still. Haven't kept tabs.

[innerharbor]

[Something in the tone of Amos' voice changes, becomes sharper.] We got a guy who tortures people?

[propulsion]

Uh.

[ That was a pivot. ]

I haven't—asked. There's been a lot to unpack? I'm going off weird dream rumour, so.

[innerharbor]

Huh. Okay.

[The softness of his voice, the easy going flippancy, is back like it never left.]

They never taught me shit about biochem, up the well. Better get the fuck home instead.

[propulsion]

[ Hm. ]

Plan B is burning incense around the next rift to spit out a real doctor. No offense to the wizards.

[innerharbor]

Man, you must hate doctors.

[propulsion]

Negative. I love doctors and the things they can do to my body.

[innerharbor]

Can you fucking imagine being a real serious doctor used to having instrument sterilizers and growth gel and antibiotics and painkillers and being thrown into this shit? I can barely stand not having a fucking power drill.

[propulsion]

Well, yeah, it sucks, but am I gonna pretend like I wasn't a little glad that someone else with a working grasp on thermodynamics showed up to the party?

No. 'Cause I'm not a liar.

[innerharbor]

Hey, I can hack it. Born to be the last man standing.

Anyway, Professor-- do me a favor?