The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!

[thatghost]

@thatghost - The Great Deviled Egg Debacle? Sounds intriguing

Confession: I let them boil waaaay too long because my JK was busy with the Emperor. But a dash of chipotle saved half of them in the end...

which is more than I can say for T7...

 

[bright_ephemera]

With deep apologies I give you Do the Math: Fan Service Advanced Edition, working title Milani's going to hell. Quinn and Wynston in the Ruth-less setting; the only real character background is that they're jointly running an organization. Quinn's son Rylon and the Twi'lek Joiner Hazard happen to work there. No spoilers. Ruth Means Compassion background - or at least its end state - is nice but not critical for one section; understanding of every last mathematical concept probably doesn't add much, as my focus was on the usual-word-definition side with only minimal mathematical consistency. Suffice it to say that they might actually be talking about mathematics.

 

 

 

"Agent." Quinn approached Wynston where the Chiss was standing still, concentrating on the wall.

 

"I'm busy," said Wynston.

 

"Ah. If doing nothing is too much a strain for your mind I'll leave you alone."

 

"I'm practicing some raw analytical work. Mathematical models. I wouldn't have thought I was oriented this way at all, but it's actually rather enjoyable. At the moment I'm up to running five parallel differential analyses, and I think some of them may even get accurate results."

 

Quinn coughed in a way that definitely wasn't suppressing a laugh.

 

"Something to say?" grumbled Wynston.

 

"I was handling eight by the time I finished the Academy."

 

"Oh, I'm sure. And how long were you keeping that up? Five seconds or ten?"

 

"I can go longer than you could manage. Show me your problem set."

 

"Why would I want to share that?"

 

"Because if you don't show me yours, you'll never get to see mine." Quinn looked superior.

 

Wynston rolled his eyes but transferred a display, an enormous array of numbers and symbols, to the large holo. "The interesting one is this model here." He pointed. "I'm right at the edge of – well, something – but I can't quite get there on my own."

 

"To the surprise of no one." Quinn started examining the equations.

 

Wynston, beside him, frowned. "Actually, now that I look at it I should have cross multiplied these two vectors right away."

 

Quinn, following Wynston's edits, scowled. "That's not normal."

 

"Sure it is. Let's see, direction via right-hand rule…"

 

Quinn eyed Wynston while the Chiss ran a hand gesture mnemonic. "That is disgustingly amateur technique."

 

"What, I suppose you do it without using your hands?"

 

"I'm certainly capable. If this is all you're after I should really have left you to take care of yourself."

 

"That's what I was doing until you walked in on me."

 

"I'm sorry to hear your performance is so delicate. Here, you might try a transform."

 

"Different way of looking at the same thing. May or may not help." Wynston got a suspicious look. "You are actually going to reduce this entire fascinating thrilling experience to a frequency count. Aren't you."

 

"Yes. It gets results."

 

"You might enjoy this sort of thing more if you could be bothered to consider it as a series of moments instead."

 

"I take whatever satisfies my equation." Quinn scowled and tapped a few things into the console. Some figures on the display rearranged.

 

"And that will help how, exactly?" scoffed Wynston.

 

"It offers an opening for this otherwise obnoxious pairing. Look, now I need only introduce the complex conjugate and that whole package will fit."

 

"All right, going straight for it like that would simplify matters, but…really?"

 

"Would you rather continue in mostly imaginary terms?"

 

"This is only imaginary if you limit yourself to the numbers, Quinn. Any engineer could perform exactly what you see here in quadrature with any physical system you care to describe."

 

"You're scarcely an engineer, Wynston."

 

"Try me. I might surprise you." Wynston peered at the section Quinn was tweaking. "Wait, what are you doing? Reduce that there." He pointed at a ratio deeply embedded in the math.

 

"Why?"

 

"Reduce it, Quinn. It isn't a proper fraction unless the smaller value's on top."

 

Quinn's lip twitched. "Improper it will have to be. The numbers don't lie; if the forcing function puts the larger value on top, that's where it stays."

 

"Control freak." Wynston edited something minor in the ratio in question.

 

Quinn gave the result a disdainful sneer. "Oh, rationalize it if you can't get your way, hmm? I hope that made you feel useful."

 

"It did. And look, up here you don't have to keep carrying that mess you've been lugging around all this time. Synthetic substitution should clear it right up."

 

"Synthetic substitution," Quinn said flatly.

 

"It solves a lot more problems than you might think."

 

"You would think so. One polynomial's much like another to you, isn't it?"

 

"There's one to fit every curve; what's not to love?"

 

"You wh0re."

 

"The technique consistently does it for me. Now – what is…? I need visuals on your end." Wynston rapidly typed to bring up a graph of some of the intertwined functions. "Wow. That's…hideously eccentric."

 

"That's a little hyperbolic, don't you think?"

 

"Highly eccentric and highly useless. The only remotely interesting part of your figure is the latus rectum, and that doesn't even look straight."

 

"It is so."

 

"That's not straight, Quinn."

 

"You'll find it satisfies your requirements – even within the constraints, which I did not consent to. You can tighten the latus rectum if you must, the only cost is more of what you're rather hypocritically calling eccentricity."

 

"Hm. You'd better hope you can bend that far."

 

"If it's required. Next we need to work on this part. There's an essential discontinuity here."

 

"That's never stopped us before."

 

"What are you suggesting?"

 

"Don't tell me you've never thought about a scenario like this."

 

Quinn scowled at the graph. "My thoughts stay quite clear of certain limits, and the asymptotic approach will ensure that you never, ever touch my side of this picture. Just look at the mess you're working on there. Could you possibly have put in more implicit relations?"

 

"If you'd care to draw it out explicitly, be my guest."

 

"Please. I would rather focus on satisfying some part of our current situation."

 

"I'm close over here."

 

"Yes, but yours scarcely benefits me."

 

*

 

Rylon finally peeled himself away from the doorframe and edged backwards to see Hazard clutching her sides in silent laughter, tears running down her face.

 

"I…am trying really hard not to put two and two together," Rylon said unhappily. "I don't want to understand what they're talking about, do I."

 

Hazard wiped her face and fell back into poorly quieted giggles. "Oh, Rylon. You really don't."

 

 

Edited November 28, 2012 by bright_ephemera

[MilaniGrey]

With deep apologies I give you Do the Math: Fan Service Advanced Edition, working title Milani's going to hell. Quinn and Wynston in the Ruth-less setting; the only real character background is that they're jointly running an organization. Quinn's son Rylon and the Twi'lek Joiner Hazard happen to work there. No spoilers. Ruth Means Compassion background - or at least its end state - is nice but not critical for one section; understanding of every last mathematical concept probably doesn't add much, as my focus was on the usual-word-definition side with only minimal mathematical consistency. Suffice it to say that they might actually be talking about mathematics.

 

 

 

"Agent." Quinn approached Wynston where the Chiss was standing still, concentrating on the wall.

 

"I'm busy," said Wynston.

 

"Ah. If doing nothing is too much a strain for your mind I'll leave you alone."

 

"I'm practicing some raw analytical work. Mathematical models. I wouldn't have thought I was oriented this way at all, but it's actually rather enjoyable. At the moment I'm up to running five parallel differential analyses, and I think some of them may even get accurate results."

 

Quinn coughed in a way that definitely wasn't suppressing a laugh.

 

"Something to say?" grumbled Wynston.

 

"I was handling eight by the time I finished the Academy."

 

"Oh, I'm sure. And how long were you keeping that up? Five seconds or ten?"

 

"I can go longer than you could manage. Show me your problem set."

 

"Why would I want to share that?"

 

"Because if you don't show me yours, you'll never get to see mine." Quinn looked superior.

 

Wynston rolled his eyes but transferred a display, an enormous array of numbers and symbols, to the large holo. "The interesting one is this model here." He pointed. "I'm right at the edge of – well, something – but I can't quite get there on my own."

 

"To the surprise of no one." Quinn started examining the equations.

 

Wynston, beside him, frowned. "Actually, now that I look at it I should have cross multiplied these two vectors right away."

 

Quinn, following Wynston's edits, scowled. "That's not normal."

 

"Sure it is. Let's see, direction via right-hand rule…"

 

Quinn eyed Wynston while the Chiss ran a hand gesture mnemonic. "That is disgustingly amateur technique."

 

"What, I suppose you do it without using your hands?"

 

"I'm certainly capable. If this is all you're after I should really have left you to take care of yourself."

 

"That's what I was doing until you walked in on me."

 

"I'm sorry to hear your performance is so delicate. Here, you might try a transform."

 

"Different way of looking at the same thing. May or may not help." Wynston got a suspicious look. "You are actually going to reduce this entire fascinating thrilling experience to a frequency count. Aren't you."

 

"Yes. It gets results."

 

"You might enjoy this sort of thing more if you could be bothered to consider it as a series of moments instead."

 

"I take whatever satisfies my equation." Quinn scowled and tapped a few things into the console. Some figures on the display rearranged.

 

"And that will help how, exactly?" scoffed Wynston.

 

"It offers an opening for this otherwise obnoxious pairing. Look, now I need only introduce the complex conjugate and that whole package will fit."

 

"All right, going straight for it like that would simplify matters, but…really?"

 

"Would you rather continue in mostly imaginary terms?"

 

"This is only imaginary if you limit yourself to the numbers, Quinn. Any engineer could perform exactly what you see here in quadrature with any physical system you care to describe."

 

"You're scarcely an engineer, Wynston."

 

"Try me. I might surprise you." Wynston peered at the section Quinn was tweaking. "Wait, what are you doing? Reduce that there." He pointed at a ratio deeply embedded in the math.

 

"Why?"

 

"Reduce it, Quinn. It isn't a proper fraction unless the smaller value's on top."

 

Quinn's lip twitched. "Improper it will have to be. The numbers don't lie; if the forcing function puts the larger value on top, that's where it stays."

 

"Control freak." Wynston edited something minor in the ratio in question.

 

Quinn gave the result a disdainful sneer. "Oh, rationalize it if you can't get your way, hmm? I hope that made you feel useful."

 

"It did. And look, up here you don't have to keep carrying that mess you've been lugging around all this time. Synthetic substitution should clear it right up."

 

"Synthetic substitution," Quinn said flatly.

 

"It solves a lot more problems than you might think."

 

"You would think so. One polynomial's much like another to you, isn't it?"

 

"There's one to fit every curve; what's not to love?"

 

"You wh0re."

 

"The technique consistently does it for me. Now – what is…? I need visuals on your end." Wynston rapidly typed to bring up a graph of some of the intertwined functions. "Wow. That's…hideously eccentric."

 

"That's a little hyperbolic, don't you think?"

 

"Highly eccentric and highly useless. The only remotely interesting part of your figure is the latus rectum, and that doesn't even look straight."

 

"It is so."

 

"That's not straight, Quinn."

 

"You'll find it satisfies your requirements – even within the constraints, which I did not consent to. You can tighten the latus rectum if you must, the only cost is more of what you're rather hypocritically calling eccentricity."

 

"Hm. You'd better hope you can bend that far."

 

"If it's required. Next we need to work on this part. There's an essential discontinuity here."

 

"That's never stopped us before."

 

"What are you suggesting?"

 

"Don't tell me you've never thought about a scenario like this."

 

Quinn scowled at the graph. "My thoughts stay quite clear of certain limits, and the asymptotic approach will ensure that you never, ever touch my side of this picture. Just look at the mess you're working on there. Could you possibly have put in more implicit relations?"

 

"If you'd care to draw it out explicitly, be my guest."

 

"Please. I would rather focus on satisfying some part of our current situation."

 

"I'm close over here."

 

"Yes, but yours scarcely benefits me."

 

*

 

Rylon finally peeled himself away from the doorframe and edged backwards to see Hazard clutching her sides in silent laughter, tears running down her face.

 

"I…am trying really hard not to put two and two together," Rylon said unhappily. "I don't want to understand what they're talking about, do I."

 

Hazard wiped her face and fell back into poorly quieted giggles. "Oh, Rylon. You really don't."

 

 

I win all the things!

*marks making it into Bright's working titles off her list*

[irishfino]

With deep apologies I give you Do the Math: Fan Service Advanced Edition, working title Milani's going to hell. Quinn and Wynston in the Ruth-less setting; the only real character background is that they're jointly running an organization. Quinn's son Rylon and the Twi'lek Joiner Hazard happen to work there. No spoilers. Ruth Means Compassion background - or at least its end state - is nice but not critical for one section; understanding of every last mathematical concept probably doesn't add much, as my focus was on the usual-word-definition side with only minimal mathematical consistency. Suffice it to say that they might actually be talking about mathematics.

 

 

 

"Agent." Quinn approached Wynston where the Chiss was standing still, concentrating on the wall.

 

"I'm busy," said Wynston.

 

"Ah. If doing nothing is too much a strain for your mind I'll leave you alone."

 

"I'm practicing some raw analytical work. Mathematical models. I wouldn't have thought I was oriented this way at all, but it's actually rather enjoyable. At the moment I'm up to running five parallel differential analyses, and I think some of them may even get accurate results."

 

Quinn coughed in a way that definitely wasn't suppressing a laugh.

 

"Something to say?" grumbled Wynston.

 

"I was handling eight by the time I finished the Academy."

 

"Oh, I'm sure. And how long were you keeping that up? Five seconds or ten?"

 

"I can go longer than you could manage. Show me your problem set."

 

"Why would I want to share that?"

 

"Because if you don't show me yours, you'll never get to see mine." Quinn looked superior.

 

Wynston rolled his eyes but transferred a display, an enormous array of numbers and symbols, to the large holo. "The interesting one is this model here." He pointed. "I'm right at the edge of – well, something – but I can't quite get there on my own."

 

"To the surprise of no one." Quinn started examining the equations.

 

Wynston, beside him, frowned. "Actually, now that I look at it I should have cross multiplied these two vectors right away."

 

Quinn, following Wynston's edits, scowled. "That's not normal."

 

"Sure it is. Let's see, direction via right-hand rule…"

 

Quinn eyed Wynston while the Chiss ran a hand gesture mnemonic. "That is disgustingly amateur technique."

 

"What, I suppose you do it without using your hands?"

 

"I'm certainly capable. If this is all you're after I should really have left you to take care of yourself."

 

"That's what I was doing until you walked in on me."

 

"I'm sorry to hear your performance is so delicate. Here, you might try a transform."

 

"Different way of looking at the same thing. May or may not help." Wynston got a suspicious look. "You are actually going to reduce this entire fascinating thrilling experience to a frequency count. Aren't you."

 

"Yes. It gets results."

 

"You might enjoy this sort of thing more if you could be bothered to consider it as a series of moments instead."

 

"I take whatever satisfies my equation." Quinn scowled and tapped a few things into the console. Some figures on the display rearranged.

 

"And that will help how, exactly?" scoffed Wynston.

 

"It offers an opening for this otherwise obnoxious pairing. Look, now I need only introduce the complex conjugate and that whole package will fit."

 

"All right, going straight for it like that would simplify matters, but…really?"

 

"Would you rather continue in mostly imaginary terms?"

 

"This is only imaginary if you limit yourself to the numbers, Quinn. Any engineer could perform exactly what you see here in quadrature with any physical system you care to describe."

 

"You're scarcely an engineer, Wynston."

 

"Try me. I might surprise you." Wynston peered at the section Quinn was tweaking. "Wait, what are you doing? Reduce that there." He pointed at a ratio deeply embedded in the math.

 

"Why?"

 

"Reduce it, Quinn. It isn't a proper fraction unless the smaller value's on top."

 

Quinn's lip twitched. "Improper it will have to be. The numbers don't lie; if the forcing function puts the larger value on top, that's where it stays."

 

"Control freak." Wynston edited something minor in the ratio in question.

 

Quinn gave the result a disdainful sneer. "Oh, rationalize it if you can't get your way, hmm? I hope that made you feel useful."

 

"It did. And look, up here you don't have to keep carrying that mess you've been lugging around all this time. Synthetic substitution should clear it right up."

 

"Synthetic substitution," Quinn said flatly.

 

"It solves a lot more problems than you might think."

 

"You would think so. One polynomial's much like another to you, isn't it?"

 

"There's one to fit every curve; what's not to love?"

 

"You wh0re."

 

"The technique consistently does it for me. Now – what is…? I need visuals on your end." Wynston rapidly typed to bring up a graph of some of the intertwined functions. "Wow. That's…hideously eccentric."

 

"That's a little hyperbolic, don't you think?"

 

"Highly eccentric and highly useless. The only remotely interesting part of your figure is the latus rectum, and that doesn't even look straight."

 

"It is so."

 

"That's not straight, Quinn."

 

"You'll find it satisfies your requirements – even within the constraints, which I did not consent to. You can tighten the latus rectum if you must, the only cost is more of what you're rather hypocritically calling eccentricity."

 

"Hm. You'd better hope you can bend that far."

 

"If it's required. Next we need to work on this part. There's an essential discontinuity here."

 

"That's never stopped us before."

 

"What are you suggesting?"

 

"Don't tell me you've never thought about a scenario like this."

 

Quinn scowled at the graph. "My thoughts stay quite clear of certain limits, and the asymptotic approach will ensure that you never, ever touch my side of this picture. Just look at the mess you're working on there. Could you possibly have put in more implicit relations?"

 

"If you'd care to draw it out explicitly, be my guest."

 

"Please. I would rather focus on satisfying some part of our current situation."

 

"I'm close over here."

 

"Yes, but yours scarcely benefits me."

 

*

 

Rylon finally peeled himself away from the doorframe and edged backwards to see Hazard clutching her sides in silent laughter, tears running down her face.

 

"I…am trying really hard not to put two and two together," Rylon said unhappily. "I don't want to understand what they're talking about, do I."

 

Hazard wiped her face and fell back into poorly quieted giggles. "Oh, Rylon. You really don't."

 

 

I appear to have a case of DEATH BY LAUGHTER.

 

Thanks, Briiiight.

[kabeone]

With deep apologies I give you Do the Math: Fan Service Advanced Edition, working title Milani's going to hell. Quinn and Wynston in the Ruth-less setting; the only real character background is that they're jointly running an organization. Quinn's son Rylon and the Twi'lek Joiner Hazard happen to work there. No spoilers. Ruth Means Compassion background - or at least its end state - is nice but not critical for one section; understanding of every last mathematical concept probably doesn't add much, as my focus was on the usual-word-definition side with only minimal mathematical consistency. Suffice it to say that they might actually be talking about mathematics.

 

You are a bad person. Never change

[thatghost]

Bad, Bright, bad! Bad but great! Bad because math makes my brain bleed...great because it didn't matter since I was laughing too hard. Turning in now with a smile on my face. No, I lie. I'm still frickin' laughing. And it hurts

[Tatile]

With deep apologies I give you Do the Math: Fan Service Advanced Edition, working title Milani's going to hell. Quinn and Wynston in the Ruth-less setting; the only real character background is that they're jointly running an organization. Quinn's son Rylon and the Twi'lek Joiner Hazard happen to work there. No spoilers. Ruth Means Compassion background - or at least its end state - is nice but not critical for one section; understanding of every last mathematical concept probably doesn't add much, as my focus was on the usual-word-definition side with only minimal mathematical consistency. Suffice it to say that they might actually be talking about mathematics.

 

Absolutely brilliant

 

I had no idea maths could be so... dirty.

 

"It's not straight" - I can't stop giggling.

[Magdalane]

@ Kabeone, Remi only shows that what is the true nature of a person shines through, no matter what face the world sees. So very Remi to do those things.

 

@ Hoyden, Skari is slowly letting her guard down, probably not of her own volition, but of the limits of her humanity. Her need for sleep and for some control over Crae are beginning to wear her down some, but it makes the story so interesting!

 

@ Bright, I laughed so very hard at your Quinston story, oh dear force! My ribs hurt. Needless to say, my own math story is now in the trash bin on my desktop. I'm not worthy! (does the Wayne's World bow)

[iamthehoyden]

Holy crap, Bright, holy crap, lol.

[bright_ephemera]

@kabeone LOGIC. Also, I love how deeply ingrained the Jedi ideals are in Remi. It flows perfectly from what we've seen of her Voss-ish-era and earlier life.

 

@hoyden I'll admit I visualized Solomon Crae wearing a collar with a little bell on it. Hey, he can be a kitty too!

 

@Magdalane Oh, don't trash any math stories you had! You can never have too much math! (Wynston's attitude there. Figuratively speaking.)

 

 

Glad you enjoyed the nerdiness! For no reason other than learning, I put together a few comments (in bold color) on the chunks of QuinnWyn's discussion that actually hold together as more than isolated words. My gift for explanation is...not quite up to my enthusiasm for explanation...but these are overtones that the definitions of individual terms may not have made obvious.

 

 

 

 

"Agent." Quinn approached Wynston where the Chiss was standing still, concentrating on the wall.

 

"I'm busy," said Wynston.

 

"Ah. If doing nothing is too much a strain for your mind I'll leave you alone."

 

"I'm practicing some raw analytical work. Mathematical models. I wouldn't have thought I was oriented this way at all, but it's actually rather enjoyable. At the moment I'm up to running five parallel differential analyses, and I think some of them may even get accurate results."

 

Quinn coughed in a way that definitely wasn't suppressing a laugh.

 

"Something to say?" grumbled Wynston.

 

"I was handling eight by the time I finished the Academy."

 

"Oh, I'm sure. And how long were you keeping that up? Five seconds or ten?"

 

"I can go longer than you could manage. Show me your problem set."

 

"Why would I want to share that?"

 

"Because if you don't show me yours, you'll never get to see mine." Quinn looked superior.

 

Wynston rolled his eyes but transferred a display, an enormous array of numbers and symbols, to the large holo. "The interesting one is this model here." He pointed. "I'm right at the edge of – well, something – but I can't quite get there on my own."

 

"To the surprise of no one." Quinn started examining the equations.

 

Wynston, beside him, frowned. "Actually, now that I look at it I should have cross multiplied these two vectors right away."

 

Quinn, following Wynston's edits, scowled. "That's not normal."

 

Cross multiplication is an operation it's sometimes useful to do on vectors (that is, any measurement that has both a size and a direction). When you cross multiply two vectors the resulting vector is at right angles to both the original vectors, and one term for being at right angles is "normal."

 

"Sure it is. Let's see, direction via right-hand rule…"

 

Quinn eyed Wynston while the Chiss ran a hand gesture mnemonic. "That is disgustingly amateur technique."

 

"What, I suppose you do it without using your hands?"

 

The right-hand rule, as a mnemonic you use your hand to find the direction of, is a thing. There actually exists a right-hand screw rule in electromagnetic applications, but I thought that was too specific a physical application for a PG-13 forum such an intentionally vague model.

 

"I'm certainly capable. If this is all you're after I should really have left you to take care of yourself."

 

"That's what I was doing until you walked in on me."

 

"I'm sorry to hear your performance is so delicate. Here, you might try a transform."

 

"Different way of looking at the same thing. May or may not help." Wynston got a suspicious look. "You are actually going to reduce this entire fascinating thrilling experience to a frequency count. Aren't you."

 

"Yes. It gets results."

 

"You might enjoy this sort of thing more if you could be bothered to consider it as a series of moments instead."

 

Transforms, as Wynston mentioned, are different ways of describing the same system/function/bunch of numbers. The most intuitive way to describe a function is in terms of time: at time x, your function has value y. The Fourier transform instead describes the same function as a sum of sinusoidal waves of different frequencies. There are awesome reasons to do this, but if you're a hater it just looks like you're obsessing over...event...frequency. The Laplace transform describes that same function as a combination of what are called moments.

 

Wynston's a Laplace kind of guy.

 

"I take whatever satisfies my equation." Quinn scowled and tapped a few things into the console. Some figures on the display rearranged.

 

"And that will help how, exactly?" scoffed Wynston.

 

"It offers an opening for this otherwise obnoxious pairing. Look, now I need only introduce the complex conjugate and that whole package will fit."

 

"All right, going straight for it like that would simplify matters, but…really?"

 

The complex conjugate is defined such that, if you add a complex number (one with a real and an imaginary component) to its complex conjugate, the imaginary components cancel out. Your number just got real and, though I don't think it's a formal term, it just got a lot simpler. WARNING: CONJUGAL RELATIONS DON'T NECESSARILY WORK THIS WAY IRL

 

"Would you rather continue in mostly imaginary terms?"

 

"This is only imaginary if you limit yourself to the numbers, Quinn. Any engineer could perform exactly what you see here in quadrature with any physical system you care to describe."

 

"You're scarcely an engineer, Wynston."

 

"Try me. I might surprise you."

 

Describing this in any detail is beyond my skill set, but a function that uses complex values, that is, values with a real and an "imaginary" part, can be physically implemented by using two slightly different things at once, one to express the real part, one to express the imaginary one. If 1 can be expressed as an apple, 1+2i could just be expressed as apple+two oranges. Mathematicians call oranges imaginary because they have no ambition and Newton never got hit by one, but engineers know that "imaginary" is just a word. Combining in quadrature is just one of the ways electrical engineers do it. Implement this complex stuff, that is. Because oranges are actually kind of expensive in quantity.

 

Wynston peered at the section Quinn was tweaking. "Wait, what are you doing? Reduce that there." He pointed at a ratio deeply embedded in the math.

 

"Why?"

 

"Reduce it, Quinn. It isn't a proper fraction unless the smaller value's on top."

 

Quinn's lip twitched. "Improper it will have to be. The numbers don't lie; if the forcing function puts the larger value on top, that's where it stays."

 

That is...exactly what it sounds like. A ratio/fraction/whatever you'd like to call it is called proper if the larger of the two values stays on bottom. I only put in the forcing function because it seemed like a good way to annoy Wynston.

 

"Control freak." Wynston edited something minor in the ratio in question.

 

Quinn gave the result a disdainful sneer. "Oh, rationalize it if you can't get your way, hmm? I hope that made you feel useful."

 

"It did."

 

Even if you don't make your fraction proper, it sometimes neatens things up to move all irrational numbers out of the denominator. This is actually called rationalizing. So maybe the little guy's stuck on bottom but he has successfully shifted every irrational element here to the other guy.

 

"And look, up here you don't have to keep carrying that mess you've been lugging around all this time. Synthetic substitution should clear it right up."

 

"Synthetic substitution," Quinn said flatly.

 

"It solves a lot more problems than you might think."

 

"You would think so. One polynomial's much like another to you, isn't it?"

 

"There's one to fit every curve; what's not to love?"

 

"You wh0re."

 

I...really, what is there to say? It's not the details that matter so much as the fact that Wynston really doesn't mind subbing in one polynomial for another. The mess Quinn has been dragging through this problem without resolving is baggage from his own history; substitution is Wynston's standard recommendation. It is true that for any curve you find, you can design a polynomial to describe/model it, and that design process is fitting. To curves. I'm not kidding. You can then pick and choose what to plug in to your synthetic substitution and...okay I'm done.

 

"The technique consistently does it for me. Now – what is…? I need visuals on your end." Wynston rapidly typed to bring up a graph of some of the intertwined functions. "Wow. That's…hideously eccentric."

 

"That's a little hyperbolic, don't you think?"

 

Eccentricity is a measure of how stretched-out a conic section (circle, ellipse, parabola, or hyperbola) is. All such curves with an eccentricity greater than one are hyperbolas.

 

"Highly eccentric and highly useless. The only remotely interesting part of your figure is the latus rectum, and that doesn't even look straight."

 

"It is so."

 

"That's not straight, Quinn."

 

"You'll find it satisfies your requirements – even within the constraints, which I did not consent to. You can tighten the latus rectum if you must, the only cost is more of what you're rather hypocritically calling eccentricity."

 

"Hm. You'd better hope you can bend that far."

 

"If it's required."

 

Saw that vocab word. Couldn't resist. It's literally just "the right-angle width" measured across the hyperbola's curve, and it describes the, er, tightness. The hyperbola does in fact tighten up further, and the latus rectum gets smaller, if you increase the hyperbola's eccentricity.

 

"Next we need to work on this part. There's an essential discontinuity here."

 

"That's never stopped us before."

 

Essential discontinuity: A gap or break in a graph that you can't fix by just adding a single connecting point. Sorry, these boys aren't that close.

 

"What are you suggesting?"

 

"Don't tell me you've never thought about a scenario like this."

 

Quinn scowled at the graph. "My thoughts stay quite clear of certain limits, and the asymptotic approach will ensure that you never, ever touch my side of this picture."

 

An essential discontinuity can occur when the function's limit – the value it is proceeding toward – as you approach some spot is different depending on whether you're approaching from one side or the other. One way that happens if is one or both sides go into an asymptotic approach, where the function will always be getting closer to its limit as it goes on, but will never actually get there.

 

A hyperbola has asymptotic limits like that. No matter how far you bend it.

"Just look at the mess you're working on there. Could you possibly have put in more implicit relations?"

 

"If you'd care to draw it out explicitly, be my guest."

 

The wording is far tastier than the mathematical significance. Implicit or explicit just indicates whether one of the variables in a relation – err, equation – is isolated on one side such that you can clearly say "x equals all this other non-x stuff," cut and dry. On a side note, x once expressed like that is called the dependent variable - its value is dictated by what everyone on the other side is doing. I cut out some arguing about whether Quinn or Wynston was the dependent variable here.

 

"Please. I would rather focus on satisfying some part of our current situation."

 

"I'm close over here."

 

"Yes, but yours scarcely benefits me."

 

*

 

Rylon finally peeled himself away from the doorframe and edged backwards to see Hazard clutching her sides in silent laughter, tears running down her face.

 

"I…am trying really hard not to put two and two together," Rylon said unhappily. "I don't want to understand what they're talking about, do I."

 

Hazard wiped her face and fell back into poorly quieted giggles. "Oh, Rylon. You really don't."

 

 

Edited November 28, 2012 by bright_ephemera

[LogicLoup]

@kabe - Seeing Remi work at reinventing herself as Grey is fascinating. I love that she's aware and considerate of the line between being Jedi and being part of the Jedi Order, between action and philosophy.

 

@hoyden - Crae continues to be the creepiest creeper that ever did creep. The contrast between his reserve here and Skari's growing twitchiness is beautifully done.

 

@bright - Don't apologise! This was fantastically cracky and hilarious. Math ships Quinston... or at least conspires to produce mass amounts of innuendo. (poor Rylon)

[Striges]

Confession: I let them boil waaaay too long because my JK was busy with the Emperor. But a dash of chipotle saved half of them in the end...

which is more than I can say for T7...

 

Could be worse. I knew someone who caught the stove on fire during a dungeon run.

 

No, it wasn’t me.

 

"And wear a damn collar, would you?"

Crae with a little bell around his neck to warn off the birds.

 

My husband is glad you like Andalar. That’s his character. (“Friend” works well in much more male-dominated forums)

 

@ LogicLoup: In some ways, that was as wrenching as Maneera's earlier stories. Her troubles were the result of her decisions, but this time it wasn't her fault. Waiting and hoping for the family she pretended she didn’t care about anymore.

 

@ Kabeone: I love Remi discovering that being a good person has nothing to do with being a Jedi. Also—all the people who benefit don’t even realize she’s done anything, which seems to me the best kind of charity. Anonymous really is anonymous.

 

For Sha’ra’zaed, what I’ve read of Chiss suggest that they have very logical, organized minds. Whether that is biological or training, though, I’m less sure. I’m going with a combination of both. The part on Hoth was mostly training—she’d internalized humanoid vulnerable spots so that usually wasn’t a conscious thought process anymore. In the countdown, more like finally getting the last piece of the puzzle, being able to calculate the final variable, given the other quantities were already known. Part of what she found disturbing about Watcher X was that his mind and hers were not so very different.

 

Given how you get Jaesa as a companion in the first place, DS Jaesa romance is kind of…creepy. A Sith Jaesa ought to be waiting for the opportune moment to knock off the SW. Which she says she won’t ever do. Hence the content warning. I guess I’m trying to come up with something more substantial than “I have a DS Jaesa so when I hit the (flirt) option on the dialogue wheel she wants to kiss my character.” In addition—if Sith draw on and amplify their opponents’ emotions of fear and anger, what happens with other primal shared feelings and a willing partner? How long before that spirals out of control?

 

 

Speaking of primal feelings and things spiraling out of control:

 

@ Bright: You are an evil person. Understanding these terms is not at all helpful! Math brain <off> innuendo brain <on>. Still laughing.

 

Oh yes, Colran. Very sweet; I sympathize with being shy and not wanting to make small talk. Fluffing pillows and…*snicker proper fraction has the larger value on top*

 

Sigh.

 

You are an evil person.

 

I see your maths and raise you a revised belief system:

 

The Jedi (dress) Code:

 

There is no sheer hosiery, there are socks.

There are no lacy bras, there are girdles.

There are no thongs, there are briefs.

There is no silk and satin, there is cotton and wool.

There is no lingerie, there are foundation garments.

Edited November 29, 2012 by Striges

[Magdalane]

 

i see your maths and raise you a revised belief system:

 

the jedi (dress) code:

 

There is no sheer hosiery, there are socks.

There are no lacy bras, there are girdles.

There are no thongs, there are briefs.

There is no silk and satin, there is cotton and wool.

There is no lingerie, there are foundation garments.

 

so perfect! Mags ignores them all, and Felix is thankful!

Edited November 28, 2012 by Magdalane

[bright_ephemera]

I see your maths and raise you a revised belief system:

 

The Jedi (dress) Code:

 

There is no sheer hosiery, there are socks.

There are no lacy bras, there are girdles.

There are no thongs, there are briefs.

There is no silk and satin, there is cotton and wool.

There is no lingerie, there are foundation garments.

 

Ahahahahahaha! I always knew I liked Sith better...

 

This does unfortunately mean that the path neither Jedi nor Sith pretty much limits you to polyester boxers.

[Tatile]

The Jedi (dress) Code:

 

There is no sheer hosiery, there are socks.

There are no lacy bras, there are girdles.

There are no thongs, there are briefs.

There is no silk and satin, there is cotton and wool.

There is no lingerie, there are foundation garments.

 

One of the first things that went out the window when the RochesterxBroan thing started happening. *ahem*

[Magdalane]

Disclaimer: Mathematical terms, and just numbers in general, are not always my friends. Therefore, the Do the Math piece that I wrote (and, saved from the trash bin on my computer at Bright's suggestion) has nothing at all to do with actual equations

 

Mir and Corso, no spoilers, less than 200 words

 

Addition and Multiplication

 

 

Miriah smiled at the two toothbrushes in the holder of her, no, their refresher. In the month since she’d allowed Corso into her heart and into her quarters, there had been several times when she’d had those little relevations, and she no longer felt her heart race or her palms sweat when she did see them. They’d been working hard, fighting on Corellia, and had only been asked to do a few more things there. Then what? Miriah didn’t really know yet, but whatever came, they’d face it.

 

They. The thought of it still made her get this silly grin. Every single day, their bond grew. Just when she didn’t think she could feel any more for Corso, it felt like her heart grew a little, and she took more of him in. So, by finally admitting they had feelings, she’d added to her life, sometimes in subtle ways, sometimes in more overt ways. She walked into their quarters, and stopped to admire him. Him plus her, simple addition, but the feelings had multiplied, in exponential ways.

 

She saw their boots then, on the floor beside the closet. Two pair. She smiled, and joined him in sleep.

 

 

[iamthehoyden]

I'm glad you saved it - very very cute. (I keep throwing myself at math for the love of science, but I hates the math or it hates me, I'm not sure which, so don't worry, you're not alone lol.)

[kabeone]

Not really sure about this one but I'm enjoying writing about Remi after she left the Jedi.

 

Home Ec: Safe Houses

Note for timeline and setting:

 

 

This is early when Remi becomes a bounty hunter. During this time Scourge was exiled from Republic space.

 

 

 

 

Appearances

Grey studied the structural integrity of the building scanning it a third time. Backing out of blast range she triggered a small explosion that collapsed the outer wall, now the building looked inaccessible. She slipped into the entrance, a custom mold built to look like rubble and twisted durasteel but as solid as a bunker. She slipped into the partially buried building, the accessible room no bigger than a shipping container, but it was all she needed.

Scourge frowned at the cottage built into the side of the mountain. He had ordered it built through an intermediary. The supposed owner was a modestly successful retired craftsman. The front door led to a small sitting room, kitchen, and single bedroom. A hidden door built into the mountain led to the bunkerlike basement, twice the square footage of the building above.

 

A separate tunnel led to an emergency exit fifty meters away.

 

Defenses

Hidden surveillance cameras lined the twisted wires of a taller building that overshadowed the rubble. At street level Grey placed several cameras that could pop up out of the ground and rotate at need. A small network of receivers and relays kept the wireless transmissions to the level of white noise to anyone scanning for signals more than a hundred meters away. The monitors inside the bunker displayed a bird’s eye view of anyone coming or going for up to two hundred meters. Auto-turrets set to stun protected the entrance, explosives ringed the perimeter, just in case.

 

Hidden surveillance cameras placed strategically both in and out of the cottage, auto-turrets set to kill buried in the ground. Visitors were assumed hostile but an emergency switch could disable the turrets, just in case.

Supplies

Rations, enough for subsistence living for thirty days, took up a small corner of the bunker next to a supply of water. Medical kits to treat battle wounds, as well as anti-radiation serums and treatments for a host of civilian maladies, were stacked neatly next to the rations. A spare suit of armor and an array of rifles and explosives crowded out the remaining floor space leaving just enough room for her to curl up on a narrow bedroll.

Rations, enough to eat well for thirty days, stocked the storeroom next to large water tanks and a water purifier. A small supply of kolto bandages sat on a shelf next to the door. A spare suit of armor and a lightsaber hung in a locked cabinet. Enough space remained for a desk, chair, surveillance monitors, and a narrow bedroll.

Checklists

Grey gazed around checking off her supply list. She would stay while she tracked down her mark and disarm the place when she left. She opened a ration pack dumping its contents onto a plate and prepared a meal.

Scourge gazed around checking off his list. The safe house was satisfactory, he would stay until he tired of the place or someone grew too curious about the retired craftsman, probably a few months. He walked to his storeroom intent on eating his evening meal.

They paused frowning at the place they stored their utensils in their respective bunkers. Neither could understand why they had purchased two cups.

 

 

 

 

@Striges Jedi dress code tee-hee. No thongs! No wonder they always fall to the dark side. It reminds me of somewhere on Nar Shaddaa if you have Kira out she says something about all the fashion designers must have gone over to the Empire. So true.

 

@Magdalane So sweet.

Edited December 27, 2013 by kabeone

[Tatile]

Kabe, that last line is so touching.

[iamthehoyden]

Kabe, that last line is so touching.

^ This. Completely.

[Magdalane]

Oh Kabe, that last line-- perfection!

[Striges]

Ahahahahahaha! I always knew I liked Sith better...

 

This does unfortunately mean that the path neither Jedi nor Sith pretty much limits you to polyester boxers.

 

 

"...Troopers and Bounty Hunters are known to favor loose-fitting undergarments to avoid chafing. Smugglers, in contrast, prefer clingy spandex in a riot of colors and patterns, whilst Imperial Agents are rumored to go without entirely..."

 

-excerpt from Jedi Master Knikk-Urr's obscure treatise Going Commando: Perfecting A Non-Force-User Disguise.

 

I'm done now.

 

 

@ Magdalane: It's very sweet and so perfect for Miriah and Corso. Everything reminding Miriah that it's two now, and it's a happy thought for a change. Glad you saved it from the trash bin.

 

@ Kabeone: Last line very nice. I also liked the different thought processes that went into each design, some converging ("narrow bedroll") some not so much ("auto turrets").

Edited November 29, 2012 by Striges

[Tatile]

Home Ec.

 

Because "Home is where the heart is" and I hope you weren't expecting anything nice and fluffy and I can't finish this tonight otherwise I'll melt into a sobbing pile of emotion. You're warned.

 

(TW: Mention of abuse, no detail.)

 

 

 

Squashed awkwardly against the wall and with the scents of sweat and whiskey filling his nose, Broan was content to let this moment last. One arm was wrapped around Rochester's chest and the other was under the pillow, slowly going numb. He shifted and pulled Rochester closer, nuzzling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

 

"Mm, I missed this." Rochester sighed and squeezed his hand.

 

"Yeah."

 

Rochester rolled over, his t-shirt catching on the more ornate parts of Broan's robes. He wanted so badly to kiss the man.

 

"You don't sound terribly convinced."

 

Broan looked down. His one free hand was held by both of Rochester's, a mixture of peach, tan and red flowing over his own mottled green skin. He sighed, feeling his breath wash over his fingers. No doubt, that Rochester felt it as well.

 

"I've just been thinking about what you said," He closed his and swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "I haven't... I've never... did I ever... force you to...?" He felt sick at the very thought of it. Broan was suddenly very glad to be lying down as his head began to spin wildly.

 

"No. Never. Don't even think that you did." Rochester embraced him then, holding him close and tight.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"Don't be, you never did anything wrong, I mean it," Rochester gripped Broan just a little tighter, taking strength from the other man's presence. "I've been used and hurt before. You never hurt me, you've never used me, you're different. I love you. I still love you."

 

"I worry."

 

"Don't."

 

 

[kabeone]

Home Ec.

 

Because "Home is where the heart is" and I hope you weren't expecting anything nice and fluffy and I can't finish this tonight otherwise I'll melt into a sobbing pile of emotion. You're warned.

 

(TW: Mention of abuse, no detail.)

 

Oh dear I was so worried there for a minute. *whew* <3

 

@Everyone above - Thanks, I wasn't sure if that last thing I wrote made sense, glad it did.

[bright_ephemera]

Periodic service announcement, the character index by author A-L and K-Z is fully up to date. I think.

 

Home Ec! A touching and delightful and warm-fuzzy "the novelty of the extra toothbrush there is incredibly awesome" and then a touching and intriguing comparison of two mindsets - both accustomed to simple living, both practical against some similar career challenges, but oriented toward such different ideals - I love them both, and I love them extra for contrasting "this is what it is to see two where I'm used to one" against "this is what it is to see one where I'm used to two." (I'm really glad you decided not to trash your story, Magdalane! )

 

Tatile, was Broan referring to a specific earlier Rochester statement? Poor Broan...poor both of them, but poor Broan for wanting so much to pour care into where there's been so much hurt.