the fuckface who holds time itself in his hands (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
collector) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
realityshifted2010-04-23 06:03 pm
collector) wrote in realityshifted2010-04-23 06:03 pm
Entry tags:
Flute Concerto in A Major
[Irving Braxiatel appears on the Plane with a small information kiosk. You can tell it is an information kiosk because it is a kiosk and it has the word "INFORMATION" on a sign above it.
He picks up one of the brochures at the kiosk and flips through it, smiling to himself.]
Really, Broderick...
[Setting the brochure back down] And that takes care of that. For now, anyway.
He picks up one of the brochures at the kiosk and flips through it, smiling to himself.]
Really, Broderick...
[Setting the brochure back down] And that takes care of that. For now, anyway.
no subject
Then it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr...?
no subject
Billy! You can call me Billy.
no subject
no subject
[Billy really doesn't want to hang around long, and it shows a little in his tone. This is the guy who gave him the wrong impression about the Bringer of Darkness doctor. That, and, you know, he might recognize Billy as the Dr. Horrible of several days ago. He's not making much eye contact.
Time to feign some ignorance.]
Sorry, it's... a lot to take in. Not every day you get sucked into an Astral Plane for some sick experiment.
no subject
no subject
[Billy's not exactly laughing. The phrase sounds familiar, but he has always been much more of a physics and chemistry kind of guy than a literary guy.
He looks to the kiosk again.]
Did you write this stuff?
no subject
no subject
[Crinkle crinkle of the brochure in that pocket.]
Tell him 'Thanks' for that.
[In a way, Billy means it. The information is useful to have on hand for his evil plans... even if one of his top theories is that he might be going crazy, to some extent. He grins again, raises his hand in an odd parting wave, and makes a second attempt to leave.]
no subject
No no, Ms Jones is the head of Administration and there currently is no PA. Mr Naismith handles all of the publicity and media relations, as well as lecturing on other planets to convince these worlds to trust the Collection with their artefacts and their students. A secretary would handle more private matters. It's in the etymology of the word.
1/2
2/2
[Well, if he's trapped... Let's see what he got from Brax so far. Collection, artefacts, other planets.
Billy isn't entirely sure whether to believe his ears. He fishes for a little more.]
I guess you're some kind of intra-planetary... art collector?
no subject
no subject
[Oh, no no no. Billy did not just do that. No way. He misses a beat while he scrambles for a reason.]
You knew a lot about the organizational structure, so I just figured... And, y'know, you have the look of a collector. Nice suit.
no subject
[But he waves it off with a hand, letting Billy off the hook.] But that's right. The Braxiatel Collection is a museum-slash-gallery-slash-archive of the sundry things I've acquired over my life. It's far after your time, early 27th century - 2602, to be precise. If you know anything of astronomy, the planetoid I house the Collection on is in orbit around Alpha Lyrae, Vega. Do you know any astronomy?
no subject
Some. I'm more of a chemistry and physics kind of guy.
--You guessed my time?
no subject
Collector, remember? That includes being able to correctly assess a find's time and place of origin. You've very obviously human, Early Space Age, no earlier than the 1970s - that's when hoodies became popular - from the United States of America, or at least that's where you learned your accent. Somewhere in the Western United States, I think? I couldn't say if it's Mountain or Pacific, I'm sorry. I'm better with British accents. You're clearly before the early 22nd century American vowel shift, and dry erase markers didn't get used very often until the 1990s, though I suppose you could have picked that up here. Still, that puts you somewhere between 1970 and 2100, but you aren't carrying any of the technological accoutrements anyone from the 2030s on would carry. Regardless of where you are from in that forty-year span, you're from about half of a millennium before the Collection's establishment.
Your name is one thing that wouldn't help. 'Billy' remains an incredibly popular name even into this era. There's a strong Anglophonic centre to Earthlink and the Earth Federation.
[Or he is on to Billy's secret. But it's nice to give a little bit more hope.]
no subject
[Here comes that slightly forced smile again, and he fumbles with shoving the dry-erase marker deep into his pocket. Billy is a little unsettled by just how quick Brax is. Clearly dear Dr. Horrible has gone insane, or he is actually in the presence of someone from far, far, far into the future. He has to give a low, disbelieving scoff and just how large the time disparity seems to be.
... But if it's the latter, there is a lot of opportunity to be had if he starts bringing in some of the future's technology. Like the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. Totally. When he speaks again, he doesn't sound completely convinced; maybe there's a handful of skepticism in there.]
What kind of technology do they have going on in the 2030s and beyond? Did anyone come up with something after the internet?
no subject
no subject
[Billy pauses. He was about to say that he is of a high intellectual capacity. He was That Kid who skipped several grades, completed the eighth grade by age eight, moved through high school like a breeze... and now he's an evil genius inventor. Even if he couldn't reverse-engineer things from the 26th century, he would love to check it out in some capacity anyway.]
By whose rules, anyway? Rules are meant to be broken.
no subject
no subject
[Billy can't completely keep his feelings from his face, and he barely suppresses a roll of his eyes. Protecting history is not something Billy cares about in a world he considers nearly beyond repair. In fact, history has been downright cruel to him, in particular. There's plenty of things that he'd mess around with, if given the chance.]
Sounds rough.
no subject
Or that oppressive, decadent species steps in and does what it is meant to do, straightening out the histories before time itself can be destroyed. That one is the preferred option.
[He speaks of all of this casually. These are the facts he was raised with. This is what was written into his genetic code.]
The Doctor belongs to that species, by the way. He's a renegade, but he doesn't damage time.
no subject
[Is ultimate destruction like that so bad? Well, okay, Billy himself doesn't want to be destroyed or forgotten. All of that work to make a name for himself? He doesn't want that to dissipate into nothing. Chaos, he'll take, but ultimate destruction is just not something he's interested in.
Billy's eye twitches at the mention of the Doctor. But something about what Brax just said catches his attention.]
Species. [It's a flat, cynical observation.] As in, alien. Not human.
no subject
no subject
[Billy falls silent, mulling all of this new information over. Aliens, time travel spanning several millenia, technology he's somehow barred from examining... anything else to add to that list? Oh. Right. Experiments by weird twins in a shop. Great. So maybe his appearance here is more of a 'kidnap' than it is the work of his Trans-Dimensional Teleport Ray.
He'll just have to give it more fine-tuning. Or check himself in to a mental hospital, though they're more than likely to ship him to the nearest jail.
... And after a few seconds of nothing else substantial to say coming to mind, he figures now would be a really good time for him to escape. He pulls up his sleeve to check his-- oh, crap, he doesn't wear a watch.]
Well! It's been a fun chat and all, but I have to get going.
See ya!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)