[Dave's own reaction when he has a bite of apple is, by virtue of his nature, a lot more muted. but it's probably pretty obvious by the way he stares at the half-eaten slice while chewing that the gears have suddenly started turning frantically.]
[there's so much he'd have to take into account, if he were actually going to seriously consider speed-growing an apple tree. first of all, putting aside the question of whether an apple tree could be grown and kept healthy enough to bear fruit in the first place, he would need to know if the space station will be moving at all over the next decade or so — and if so, where, in relation to where they are now. it isn't like popping ahead ten years and suddenly being in the vacuum of space is going to kill him; he'd be just fine. it's the tree he's worried about.]
[so that would be the first step, obviously: reconnaissance. for the sake of his own sanity, he'd want to only gather as much information about the future station as necessary in order to pull off moving a mature tree to the present. and then he can start building the time loops from there. you know, however many Daves it takes to actually move a mature tree to the present. time travel is as much about carefully maintaining a hundred spinning plates at once as it is improvisation, and for Dave, it's something that comes naturally, it's written into the fabric of who he is. if he could get the bare bones of a plan kickstarted, it should be easy enough to pull off.]
[but then that whirlwind of thoughts stops spinning, too, and he can't help but think this whole thing is unnecessarily cruel. for a split second, it feels like the station is trying to tempt him to do something — to trap himself in time loops again — he's been so adamant about avoiding for years. he's just a kid-unfairly-turned-god, after all. he has his glaring flaws. and even though he's used to being in space without access to things like apple juice or decent burritos, he probably also wouldn't be the only one to jump at the chance to have decent food in a place that's been so severely lacking for so long.]
[the willpower to resist and the urge to just say fuck it and give it a try are sort of pulling with the same force right now. but when he pops the rest of that apple slice in his mouth, the side that's saying fuck it gets just a little bit stronger.]
Jesus. [that's pretty much all he can say, honestly. and that is to say, this apple's probably the best thing he's ever eaten in his life.]
no subject
[there's so much he'd have to take into account, if he were actually going to seriously consider speed-growing an apple tree. first of all, putting aside the question of whether an apple tree could be grown and kept healthy enough to bear fruit in the first place, he would need to know if the space station will be moving at all over the next decade or so — and if so, where, in relation to where they are now. it isn't like popping ahead ten years and suddenly being in the vacuum of space is going to kill him; he'd be just fine. it's the tree he's worried about.]
[so that would be the first step, obviously: reconnaissance. for the sake of his own sanity, he'd want to only gather as much information about the future station as necessary in order to pull off moving a mature tree to the present. and then he can start building the time loops from there. you know, however many Daves it takes to actually move a mature tree to the present. time travel is as much about carefully maintaining a hundred spinning plates at once as it is improvisation, and for Dave, it's something that comes naturally, it's written into the fabric of who he is. if he could get the bare bones of a plan kickstarted, it should be easy enough to pull off.]
[but then that whirlwind of thoughts stops spinning, too, and he can't help but think this whole thing is unnecessarily cruel. for a split second, it feels like the station is trying to tempt him to do something — to trap himself in time loops again — he's been so adamant about avoiding for years. he's just a kid-unfairly-turned-god, after all. he has his glaring flaws. and even though he's used to being in space without access to things like apple juice or decent burritos, he probably also wouldn't be the only one to jump at the chance to have decent food in a place that's been so severely lacking for so long.]
[the willpower to resist and the urge to just say fuck it and give it a try are sort of pulling with the same force right now. but when he pops the rest of that apple slice in his mouth, the side that's saying fuck it gets just a little bit stronger.]
Jesus. [that's pretty much all he can say, honestly. and that is to say, this apple's probably the best thing he's ever eaten in his life.]