Entering the Plane

[timesbureaucrat]

[Narvin has been hopping universes enough recently that his first response to being on the Plane isn’t awe or surprise. It’s annoyance. Narvin being Narvin, even if he hadn’t been an experienced multiverse traveller, there’s a good chance that any awe or surprise would be heavily laced with irritation anyway.]

If you’re planning on trying to kill me, please get the attempt over with quickly, I have work to do. Finding a way back to Gallifrey won’t happen by itself more’s the pity.

[He sees a kiosk nearby and ducks behind it, feeling a bit more secure with a wall to put his back up against, even if it’s a rather flimsy wall.]

And if you’re not trying to kill me, then kindly explain what I’m doing here so I can get it over with and get back to where I belong.

[He then notices the writing on the kiosk. If it truly does what it says it does, information would indeed be useful.]

Help. [He says flatly, following the instructions. Then selects “paper” as his medium of choice. It’s primitive, but has the advantage of being quiet and something he can take with him to examine later in greater detail.

Then, at the top of the page, he sees the name “Irving.”]

Braxiatel. I might have known this is all your fault. Kidnapping me once wasn’t enough for you?

Comments

[inhumanity]

[Christopher sits on the kiosk, flipping his knifeblades in his hands absently.]

Twice the kidnappings is twice the fun, isn't that right?

[bit_impossible]

[The Doctor can never mistake that outfit, or that expression on coordinator's face.] Ohhhhhh, look who's back! [He strolls on over, hands in pockets and a growing grin on his face. It's been some time since he's felt another Time Lord's presence on the Plane.] Funny you being here and all. Well, here at this kiosk. [Short pause.] Well, just back on the Plane in general, but anyway! If you're looking for Brax, you're bang out of luck. No one's seen him around for ages, so I think you'll have to blame someone else for kidnapping you.

[timesbureaucrat]

Being kidnapped is hardly my idea of fun.

[He watches those knifeblades nervously and wishes that Leela had been kidnapped with him this time as she had been last time.]

Who are you?

[timesbureaucrat]

Back? What do you mean, back? [He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. If his timeline is bending out of order, he's going to be very irate.] Your speaking to me had better not cause a paradox.

[He knows the man before him is a Time Lord, but it takes him a moment to work out which one. He doesn't recognize the man's face, but there are few Time Lords prone to imbecilic chatter and an annoyingly gregarious manner. He narrows his eyes and folds his arms across his chest.]

Doctor.

You of all people should know that just because Braxiatel isn't around doesn't mean that he's not pulling the strings.

What are you doing here?

[inhumanity]

Christopher Chareau de Red. [Christopher smiles.] Shall we be friends?

[timesbureaucrat]

Let me think...befriend a complete stranger I've know for all of eleven point six nanospans and met under highly suspicions circumstances... I believe I'll have to decline.

[grip_on_reality]

[Menzies happens to be walking by when she sees someone at the information kiosk. knowing she should probably do the public service of helping the newcomer, she heads in that direction. her head is bandaged from her recent wound, but otherwise her manner and clothing are both business-like. nearing the kiosk, she hears Narvin's last comment to himself]

Ah, if you're thinking whoever wrote that is pulling the strings 'ere, you're probably in for a surprise. I take it you're new? [she looks Narvin up and down, her expression curious at his strange clothing]

[inhumanity]

My heart is fatally wounded. [It isn't.] You haven't shared your name, friend. That's bad manners.

[timesbureaucrat]

I'm sure you'll cope.

My name is... [There's a barely perceptible pause, as, in a fraction of a nanospan, he decides that lying is better than honesty. He doesn't know who or what this person is, or how he might be involved in Narvin's kidnapping.]...Straxus.

[bit_impossible]

[He can't help rolling his eyes.] Nope, no paradox; yep, I am the Doctor, hello! [He gives a little wave of his hand.] And for once, Brax really--and I mean really--isn't behind things here. I would say "trust me", but I know better.

As for me? Well, I was about to make myself a cuppa! [He flashes Narvin an innocent but still very cheeky smile.] Ran out of tea in the TARDIS.

[inhumanity]

You're German.

[No, Chris.]

[timesbureaucrat]

No, I am not. Wherever did you get that idea?

[timesbureaucrat]

[Eye rolling is a typical response to Narvin. He just ignores it these days.]

So all this nonsense [he waves the brochure with a single, irritable snap] he had written up about experiments on the Astral Plane is actually true and not part of one of his schemes? Oh, wonderful.

[He gives the Doctor an even more dubious look at his explanation for why he's here.]

All of time and space at your disposal and you decide to go to a multidimensional nexus for tea instead?

[timesbureaucrat]

[She doesn't have an unnerving smile, like Christopher does, and she's not a renegade. Plus, she's wounded, therefore he is slightly more reassured that she won't attack at a moment's notice. Or if she did, he could hit her in the head in retaliation.]

Indeed. And I take it you're not new.

And if it's not Braxiatel behind this, the obvious question is 'who is pulling the strings?'

[inhumanity]

Ah, how hard it must be on you. Don't worry, I'll help you: it's your name.

[timesbureaucrat]

[Hard?]

Somehow I manage to get by. [He says dryly.]

Straxus is not a German name and I have to wonder why you're under the impression it is. Have you even been to Earth at all?

[inhumanity]

[Christopher elects to ignore that.] Are you sure it isn't? Personally, I find it very German. Can't you just hear it? Straxus von Rhinehild. Esteemed protector of mouth of the Rhine. He lives in a fine castle with three hundred servants and twelve daughters, and he only comes outside on the cover of darkness!

He's a vampire, you see.

[timesbureaucrat]

A vampire. [Narvin scoffs.] Don't be absurd; they've been extinct for millennia. [He sounds so very sure of himself.]

[inhumanity]

[If anything, that amuses Christopher more.] I don't think that's true. Maybe in your universe, but not in all of them.

[bit_impossible]

Actually, Broderick had, as you would've seen if you kept on reading. [He tries to point at the spot where it says so but waves a dismissive hand not even a second later. Narvin's a big boy; he can find it on his own.] And yes, everything there is true. Really, really true. [There's a serious look that crosses his face for a moment when he says that. How rare it must be for Narvin to see that of the Doctor in any incarnation...]

Well...[He begins rubbing the back of his neck]...wouldn't you?

[timesbureaucrat]

[Narvin doesn't like to be contradicted, but Christopher may have a point. There may be a timeline out there somewhere where vampires weren't exterminated by Rassilon. Somewhere close, say, about an episode away.]

All right, perhaps they aren't. That doesn't change the fact that I am not German and I am certainly not a wretched vampire.

[inhumanity]

[Don't tell Christopher. He'll want to meet them.]

Just because you aren't a vampire, that isn't any reason to be prejudiced against them. I know what you are: a literary critic.

[timesbureaucrat]

If by "critic" you mean that I think ninety nine percent of all literature is complete rot and one hundred percent of it is useless, you're absolutely right.

[timesbureaucrat]

[Narvin waves aside the correction dismissively.] Braxiatel or one of his lapdogs, it's all the same thing.

[Something serious must be going on here for the Doctor to have that look on his face as he discusses it.]

I should think ancient China would be better suited. Or Victorian England if high tea was your preference. Having spent the last few weeks on a different multidimensional nexus, I can assert that the comestibles were nothing special.

What are these 'experiments' the brochure mentions? I have no intention of being anyone's test subject. [His expression remains neutral, but his hands tense into fists.]

[inhumanity]

Those are philistines.