mintjulep | ☤ 001

Entry tags:

!polychromatic

☤ 001

This is Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer aboard the USS Enterprise. Bridge, do you copy?

[ There’s a man in science blue standing next to the fountain, looking cold and grumpy as he shakes his device. ]

Damn interference… Enterprise, this is McCoy. I don’t know what the hell happened with those infernal transporters, but I’m damn sure I ain’t where I’m supposed to be. Scott, can you hear me? Jim? Uhura? Sulu? Chekov? Chapel? Anyone?

… Spock?

[ Nothing, not even the hobgoblin. Dammit. ]

Right, well. Looks like I’ll try and blend in. Christmas music and all...

[ Except since his communicator couldn’t reach the Enterprise, it broadcasted his conversation to the entire city instead… ]

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[ That's true. ]

They're not too bad, even if everyone's callin' this place somethin' different. But yeah, I could do without the music.

The music is a curse, bizarre as that sounds.

The disparaging information, though - that would be because none of us can be exactly certain of what this place is. Whatever forces are ultimately in charge, they're not particularly forthcoming. Shocking, I realize, the thought of abductors withholding information from their abductees.

"Magic". Right.

[ He snorts. ]

If nothing else, they've built a pretty lookin' prison.

Well... it's something. You can decide what you believe for yourself once you've seen it firsthand.

I doubt it would seem very magical if they let it fall into disrepair.

No, but it'd seem more realistic.

[ There's a pause and a slight rustle of fabric as McCoy runs a hand through his hair. ]

There's always the Underground. Not that I'd recommend that as part of the sightseeing tour.

[Pausing slightly...]

You've been sent a guide, I hope?

And the Underground is...?

Yeah. Two of 'em. Still damn hard to swallow.

You'll get to the full description in there, then, but... it's what it sounds like, in both senses. Both subterranean and where the City's more dangerous citizens tend to settle down. The clock is also down there - the source of the ticking you've probably noticed - surrounded by all manner of violent creatures.

And no one knows for sure what the clock is for? [ He's not going to comment on the ticking; it's already making him grit his teeth. ]

Not for sure, no. One of the more popular theories is that it's "counting down to the end of all worlds."

Honestly, though... I'm not sure I put much stock in that.

... Why the hell would a giant clock in some pocket dimension be counting down to the end of all worlds? If anything, it's more likely to just be counting down this one.

Assuming that it's counting down to anything at all. I hardly think I'm qualified to analyze the workings of any pocket dimension, though.

[There's a moment where he's tempted, very consciously, to use your "I'm a doctor" bit, but he decides he can hold off on that for now.]

Doctor Wilson, by the way.

[ And for a moment, he wishes Jim and Scotty were here. If nothing else, the damn Scotsman and his reckless best friend could probably build a transporter out of a toaster and get them out of here. ]

McCoy -- though you probably heard that.

I did. It happens - you'll want to keep an eye on the device, they can sometimes have a mind of their own. Nothing quite like having karaoke night go up for the whole City to see.

[ If the damn thing starts following him around, he's trashing it. ]

That happen often?

[That would be fun to watch.]

Often enough. I'd say anywhere from a third to a half of the posts on the network each day are unintentional.

[ Yes, yes it would be. ]

That's... [ a lot. ] No one's learned how to keep them off?

Being mindful of them helps.

Though, it doesn't seem impossible that they may not be entirely under our control.

No, I suppose not. [ Jim or Scotty or even Spock could probably backhack them, but not him. Dammit. ]

Ain't that a lovely thought.

Well. Typically, the worst they achieve is embarrassment, not actual harm.

[Which is some comfort, he thinks? Hopes? He tries not to sound too opinionated about the City either way to new arrivals, letting them have their own reactions that he believes them to be entitled to. He doesn't want to make anything sound overly sinister.]

And, as a means of fast and efficient communication, the network isn't awful.

"Typically."

[ It's a nice goal, really, but McCoy's none too pleased about being here and it's making him look at everything like it's out to get him. ]

No, I don't suppose it is.

[ But that doesn't mean he has to like it. ]

[Which is, of course, his right to feel. Still, maybe a shift in topic isn't the worst idea. Something more productive, maybe.]

Of more immediate concern... have you been pointed towards the welcome center? Or at least a coat?

[ Productivity is always appreciated, as far as McCoy is concerned. ]

Someone's bringing me a spare coat. I haven't heard anything about the welcome center, though.

Well, that should be to the east from the fountain and carousel. It's run by some of the citizens here - they can help you out with any other essentials you may need, and give you a place to stay for a while.

East. [ There's movement again, McCoy going to look out the window of the coffee shop he's stationed in. ] Got it. Thanks.

[ At least this place is organized. ]

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dr_conscience - 2011-12-07 04:52 (UTC) - Expand

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mintjulep - 2011-12-07 04:57 (UTC) - Expand

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