realityshifted | (no subject)

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doctor who (d1) narvin

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[All children have to grow up sometime, and fortunately for the good Coordinator, it's happened sooner rather than later. He's back to his usual self, and has returned to his duties on Gallifrey, which is what has him making a reappearance on the Plane now.

Spread out on an appropriated library table are several reports from Narvin's agents, one very tattered-looking map of the tunnels, inventory lists, a cup of tea, and a surprising amount of paperwork (and made of actual paper, too) for what amounts to a small band of guerilla fighters. Narvin is busy pouring over the reports and consolidating his intel, his face expressionless as he reads over the amount of damage from recent attacks.

...He's also studiously feigning amnesia of the last few weeks.]

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[Benny takes a seat at the table next to him, ~~nosing around~~ curiously looking over his papers]

It looks like you're playing catch-up rather quickly, Coordinator.

[They're all in Gallifreyan, so he's not too concerned.]

I spent several weeks away from my planet and this little war. I need to know what has been happening in my absence.

Did you? That doesn't seem very like you. So what were you doing during this holiday of yours? Anything fun?

I was hardly trapped on Braxiatel's Collection by choice, and it certainly wasn't a holiday.

I suppose you weren't. Still, it's been quite some time since you were trapped on the Collection. I'm sure you had plenty of time to catch up since then. Unless of course, you were preoccupied with other things.

[Narvin is a lying liar who lies.]

...I've only been able to leave the Collection for the past few days.

Have you? Well, you've done a very good job of laying low. Then again, there was a Time Tot here taking up a good deal of my time as well as Brax's. You wouldn't know anything about that, I'm sure.

[blandly;]

Don't tell me it was the Doctor?

That would hardly count. He's all ready a child as he is.

[He gives her a quick, amused glance.] Exactly my point.

I'm sure. No, this ones age matched his maturity. He seemed very fond of Braxiatel, too.

Did he? Will wonders never cease. I'd've thought Gallifrey's suns would have burned themselves out before another Gallifreyan actually became fond of Braxiatel.

I don't know. Your Madame President seems rather fond of him. The Doctor does as well, although I'm not quite sure that counts.

The Doctor is obligated to be. And I doubt that the President would be half as fond as she is if he wasn't steadfastly on her side.

That's quite a vote of confidence there. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were saying she was fickle, fair-weather, and [a pause] opportunistic.

I was looking for an f-word there. Oh well.

Hardly. She could stand to be more opportunistic, as it stands. But I'd imagine it would be difficult to possess affection for someone who was fundamentally opposed to everything you stand for, and who fights you at every turn.

[Narvin wouldn't know, because Narvin isn't the affectionate sort. :(]

Oh, I don't know, if you just apply yourself I'm sure you'll turn her into a regular Machiavelli in no time.

[she sighs, elbows going on the table and looking bored. His "amnesia" needs to be cured]

I suppose you'd rather pretend you weren't ever turned into your five year old self, or that you were relying on Brax of all people for being your Matron.

[feigning mild surprise]

I don't know what you're talking about. My Matron is long dead and preserved in the Matrix.

[Braxiatel stops by the table, smiling at nothing in particular. He drops on the table the broken piece from his stabiliser.]

I thought you might like a memento.

[Narvin picks it up, feigning disinterest.]

The time I spent on you Collection was torturous enough. I don't need a reminder of it.

I'm sure you don't.

[He'll be on task in just a moment. Let him have his fun.]

[With his usual irritable sigh:]

Is there something you need, Braxiatel?

[Irving slips his hands into his pockets and glances over Narvin's workload.] I am very pleased to see that you continue to be the exemplary bureaucrat at the very core of Gallifreyan government. Now that you're back to work, I was wondering if you'd like a little help? If not, you'll be free of me.

Free of you? I should be so lucky.

[He shifts his papers around, considering, then clears a space.]

Well, if you're determined to make yourself useful...

Oh, not determined. Just mildly compelled. [He sits down, now actually scrutinizing what Narvin has been working on to get a better picture of the situation.]

[With a snort, Narvin shifts some of the (less classified) documents over to Brax. A good deal of the reports are information from Narvin's various double agents on Pandora's movements -- in particular, her weapons development program, which Narvin is taking an interest in.

He also seems to be mapping out safehouses in both the old city and the Outlands, but it being made vastly more difficult by the inaccurate and ancient maps he's found. One report, near the top, details the latest skirmish and the resultant death of three of the Guards and one unlucky bystander. There are several more papers detailing Darkel's propaganda efforts, and the rate that the modified Dogma virus is preading amongst the general population.

It's a cheery workload, isn't it?]

[Braxiatel takes it without flinching, without emotion. Well, he's seen worse, hasn't he? He takes out a pen and starts noting amendments to the map based on his memories of the place. The information he collates as he suspects would be most useful to Narvin.]

[At some point he starts humming Clarke's Trumpet Voluntary under his breath. He writes in 14th century English.]

[Narvin can tune out the humming as easily as he can tune out detonations, these days. It's not as though Brax hadn't done it before. But when he glances over the map and notices the English, he scowls.]

I do hope you realise that not everyone on Gallifrey shares your infatuation with that primitive backwater.

[Braxiatel looks up from his work with (feigned) mild surprise, then smiles.] You mistake me for the Doctor. If it's easier on you, I can do 40th century Martian. Second Dynasty Draconian? Old High Gallifreyan? But that would be playing straight into the enemy's linguistic register.

One doesn't collate intelligence for everyone on Gallifrey. One does it for the Head of Intelligence, dubious as the designation may be. Besides, I seem to recall that you were in possession of a remarkable interest in outside cultures during your youth. Perhaps Draconian would be best.

Edited 2010-12-05 04:11 (UTC)

[Narvin's pretence of amnesia doesn't slip, and he glosses quickly over Braxiatel's last statement.]

You're mistaken, and modern Gallifreyan will do perfectly well. I am not the only person who is going to be using that map. It's in my best interest for Commander Hallan and his Guards to be able to easily understand what it says, not to waste time puzzling out archaic human scribblings.

[With a resigned sigh, the sort he generally reserves for his friends in the younger races when they are being particularly incapable.]

If you insist. [He nudges at the ink with the tip of his pen.] Well? You heard him. And not even in code. [Slowly, the writing rearranges itself until it is Gallifreyan.] You'd break le Carré's heart.

By the way, have you considered looking into this library for maps? There's a chance something useful might pop up.

[Narvin's irritation overshadows his interest in the ink.]

Another human? Are you quite certain your brother's affection for that species hasn't bled over to you?

I'll have a look once this mess is sorted through.

[Brax's eyes flicker up from his work to Narvin.] My. I hope I'm not disturbing you, Coordinator. I would hate to. Only you sound a little irritated.

[You suck, Brax. Narvin hates you.]

I wonder why that would be.

If you like, I can leave. But you rather look like you could do with a lightening of your work load.

[Really terrible people only find happiness when they make other people unhappy. One must assume that this is the main reason Brax and Narvin have refrained from killing each other ~~permenantly~~ all these years.]

[Look, it's their bitchy Council sessions all over again.]

Very charitable of you. I'm sure you're able to work without making the constant references to alien culture.

I am in exile, Narvin. It is a natural consequence of being exposed to the younger races. I may even take up a spouse among them next.

[Really, sarcasm makes Brax a more productive worker. It gives his bitchiness something to do.]

[Narvin can't help but shoot Brax an incredulous glance at that statement. Even if the good Cardinal was being sarcastic, the idea is enough to provoke distaste. Ew, aliens.]

I can't say I'd be surprised.

[Brax doesn't bother to look at Narvin's expression. Some things don't warrant even minimal muscle movement, and Braxiatel is busy working.]

Your expression would to indicate the reverse of your words. One of the usual incongruities, of course.

It's merely surprise that you'd consider developing a relationship that isn't founded on manipulation. After throwing open the doors of our Academy to them, marrying an alien seems almost reasonable for you.

[Brax actually bothers to look up, half-amused]

Only almost?

Marrying a primitive is hardly reasonable for any member of our race.

[with a laugh] If you had your way, Narvin—no, that's not true. If all the younger species did not exist, there would be no one for us to lord over. But it wouldn't be unfair to suggest that you'd prefer that no Gallifreyan ever interact with one of the younger species, except to, ah, guide them. Or give them a purpose which would be largely to our benefit.

[See? Brax can avoid unparliamentary language! It's the politest way anyone has ever said 'control or use.']

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