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doctor who (d1) narvin

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[Somewhere in the library, Narvin has appropriated one of the desks for his own use. There are a few Gallifreyan books neatly stacked on the table (books that, by all rights, shouldn't be there at all), but his focus is primarily on the datapad in front of him.]

[Apparently satisfied with whatever it is he's working on, he sets the datapad down, rubs his eyes, and reaches for a cup of tea that happens to be off to the side.]

[Only his hand never quite makes it.]

[One second, the cup is placidly sitting on the table, and the next, it's floating (alarmingly quickly) through the air and smacking into Narvin's hand. Narvin, for his part, promptly gives it a horrified look and drops it as if it were scalding. He snatches the datapad away from the growing puddle and glares at the offending cup, hoping beyond hope that no one saw that little display.]

[Rassilon, he hates magic.]

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[Hope? Really? Didn't they all learn their lessons about hope? Now excuse Braxiatel a moment as he tries to choke down his laughter.]

You're progressing admirably, Coordinator.

[He hates you too, Brax.]

Hilarious. Of all the things they could have changed, it had to be magic, didn't it?

[Brax doesn't care, he's smiling like the awful, awful person he is.]

You must admit, there is a charming irony to it. And, as I've heard it, they don't choose what happens.

[Tucking the datapad into his pocket, disgruntled.]

How convenient. And what did you end up with?

I don't know yet. [Or if he does, he isn't telling.] And what are we working on today?

Passing the time.

[Only not, because no time passes here, and he well knows it. He taps one of the books, a thick, heavy-looking treatise on the nature of Time, written entirely in Old High Gallifreyan. Below it is a book on Pre-Rassilonate poetry, and a few other assorted titles.]

Have you seen these before?

Yes, centuries ago. Some of them not since the Academy. [He spent a lot of time with books instead of people, and he actually liked that volume of poetry.]

Yes, well, as far as I can tell, these books are still in the Academy libraries. Provided you weren't feeling nostalgic enough to bring them here, of course.

I take things into my Collection. I don't throw them away into the Library of Babel.

Things and people, yes, I'd noticed.

Had you? I didn't think people were high on your list of priorities. Is there a reason you're taking an interest in the Gallifreyan texts here?

They shouldn't be here. And since you or I didn't bring them, either another of our people did, or they're exceptionally well-done duplicates. If they are duplicates, I'm curious as to what else this Machine has the ability to copy.

The Worshipful and Ancient Law of Gallifrey? For example.

Exactly. Or perhaps the Great Key, the Rod, the Sash, the De-Mat gun...

I've already seen that particular book here. I bought it back to the Collection. [a half-smile] For safe-keeping. It seems to me that a Machine of this power could make anything it wanted to any extent it liked.

[There's some punk soldier type with girly hair nearby. When Narvin drops his cup, he gets a weird look, and then Asch goes back to reading Principles of Space, Time, and Relativity from the same shelf as the other books he was showing Braxiatel.]

[flatly] Safekeeping.

Including people.

[He is never giving it back]

Or planets and universes, if it was so inclined. Is there a reason we're following this particular avenue of thought?

Merely idle curiosity.

[It's never ~~lupus~~ idle curiosity.]

[Narvin mutters a Gallifreyan swear, catches Asch's glance, and scowls. Wonderful. He notes the book, and it's place on the shelf, and wonders briefly if it is Gallifreyan in origin.]

Can you read that?

[It's actually an Earth book that someone shoved up there just to be an ass. ~~Probably one of my other characters, come to think of it.~~

Asch answers while flipping through the third chapter. This really isn't helping him with his objective.]

Yes. I can read.

[dryly] Congratulations. I was referring to the language.

[Asch sighs and realizes he probably won't be rid of this clown for a while. He holds the book towards Narvin-- just your typical Earth college level physics book, really.]

See for yourself.

[Brax knows that it's never lupus]

And it was idleness that had you working on that datapad.

[He takes it and skims through the pages, raising an eyebrow and trying to hold back a disdainful look.]

Ah, it's from Earth. Well, that would explain the inaccuracies.

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