A Phone Call Is Made

[velesdonnersen]

Open Phone Call

 [He's suspicious and well past grumpy, now, and a little worried...but he's also noticed that he's not alone. There are people who seem not to fit, like him. So he's going to try to figure this out...]

Hello?  Hello?

Is anyone else out there? Anyone else stuck from someplace else, like me?

The clothes are strange, the houses filled with ugly furniture, the locals all seem to be Muses... slow, dull Muses.  I can't remember how I got here, and I  have no idea what this is all about.

 

My "wife" says we have a car, but every time I try to figure it out I get a headache...and my spark seems to be gone.  Which is... disturbing.

 

I'm Tarvek.  Tarvek Sturmvoraus.  "Prince," if it matters to anyone.

 

And I'd really like a few answers.

 

[Anyone listening can hear him grumbling and muttering under his breath, huffing, "I feel like such an idiot talking into this thing...."]

 

Comments

[velesdonnersen.livejournal.com]

That's just strange.

[sigh]

Like much of the rest of this place.

It appears that the way people find each other here is through "street addresses." Mine is 1126 Taylor Road. I'm alone in a house full of the native people... the, er, drones?

And where do people go to, well, meet other "real" people?

[madeofstoic.livejournal.com]

Don't have anybody who ain't a drone in y'r house? [ Man that must be brutal. He's never been without one- even when his not!son got droned his not!wife came in right after. ]

Everywhere, Sir. You'll know who's normal when y'see 'em.

[velesdonnersen.livejournal.com]

[Actually at the moment he finds the drones soothing. Rather like mild-mannered, pre-programmed clanks or Muses. Not one of them is remotely likely to slip arsenic in his dinner, for example. Nor do any of them seem think that Christmas crackers with ground glass shrapnel in them is the pinnacle of practical joking... He reads children's books to the little girl. She laughs and claps. He helps the boy with his math homework. It's rather a comfort, even if they are very strange....a bit like modestly sentient mashed potatoes, and everyone knows how soothing mashed potatoes are.]

[The biggest problem is that, like most comforts, they're not very good for him...]

Mmmm. Yes. I've seen others who fit in as badly as I do. But one can hardly just walk up to someone on the street and say, "Hello, I'm another Mayfield Hostage. How about a game of snooker and a pint of beer?" Or...

Are we all really that desperate?

[madeofstoic.livejournal.com]

Hm. Just gotta listen to the phone. We're the only ones who really use it 'round 'ere. [ Phones are like the lifeblood of Mayfield, or something. ]

[velesdonnersen.livejournal.com]

[Tarvek studies the phone in his hand. It is a peculiar shade of flesh-tone beige. It is made of some kind of resin. It has the most disturbing coiled umbilical cord.]

[He wants to take it apart, but when he tries his head hurts...]

[He mopes, silently...but appreciates the advice, regardless.]

I'll... work on that, Airman. Thank you.

It's good to know we're the primary users. And I've been told there are limited ways of blocking people from listening... I suspect I'll learn.

I'm afraid I'll have to....

[madeofstoic.livejournal.com]

Good luck with that, Sir. [ You're Tarvek you can figure it out. ]

...Erm. If you don't mind me askin'. Somethin' happen to Miss Zeetha?

[velesdonnersen.livejournal.com]

[He thinks he hears a note of worry in the often impenetrable Higg's voice, and wavers between compassion and amusement. Damn, the man is rather adorable when he's all molten and sentimental... But he's also relieved Tarvek's own fears. And while part of him frets over the commonplace Madboy theories about time disasters ("I'm my own Grandpa" and "Stomp a butterfly in the Pliestocene and destroy civilzation" tropes being high on the list), he's inclined to treat Mayfield less as a time-loop -- in spite of Higg's apparent origins in an early time frame -- and more like a repository of recordings.]

[Calm, professional voice: the voice you hear from a good doctor or an experienced officer who is delivering news that's serious but far from catastrophic.]

I'm not sure at what point your memories start to match mine, Airman. In my memories you and the Princess, along with the minions -- Moloch Von Zinzer and Frau Snaug -- had separated from Lady Heterodyne's party after the cure and resolution of the Hogfarb's difficulties, and after we had discovered the Lady Lucrezia's hidden lair deep in the basements of Castle Heterodyne.

We reunited during an in-progress confrontation with Zola Malfeasium, that Pink b*-- ....er, um...that vile villainess representing one of my less favored family "alliances." Her intention was to kill Lady Heterodyne, and take me captive as her figurehead -- and, possibly, she hoped to also attach Gil. To accomplish that she drugged herself. Extremely. The combination of drugs and extreme martial arts training made her close to unstoppable: enough so that you yourself were unable to control her.

In the fight Princess Zeetha received a gut-wound. I retreated with Lady Agatha; Violetta remained with you and Princess Zeetha. Ultimately Zola escaped to pursue Agatha and me. Violetta provided medical aid: while she's not a superb front-lines Smoke Knight, she's a very skilled medic.

In the aftermath you requested permission from both Lady Agatha and Herr Wulfenbach to retreat to Mamma Gkika's to ensure Princess Zeetha received further medical attention. My sense, however, was that you had no great doubts of the chances of the two of you making it to Mamma Gkika's safely, nor any great concern that Mamma Gkika would be unable to cope with your Amazon's injuries. My own sense is that you considered the wounds serious enough to warrant more than a field dressing and care by a group of sparks in the middle of a "campaign," but at the same time you didn't seem convinced that the situation was a disaster.

In short, she was injured, and in my timeline is probably now enduring bed-rest, attended by you, and under the good Jagerfrau's tender care -- but unless something occurred on your retreat that I have not learned of, she's probably recovering well by now. I wish I could tell you more, but that's the limit of my knowledge prior to the time I was, er, obtained by Mayfield.

[madeofstoic.livejournal.com]

[ Hey Tarvek this is kind of a lot to take in you know that right.

Zeetha's okay. That's good. She'll probably be okay. That's good too. But he won't know for sure unless he goes back, and he doesn't know how and doesn't know when that'll happen. So he'll have to trust your word on this, Tarvek. And worry a bit. And wonder why he likes this girl after knowing her for about a day wow what is he doing with himself. (You've got him all riled up like this! Great job, boy.)

And yet...he's honestly pretty sure he'd react a bit more than you think if that happened. You didn't see him angry, Tarvek. You wouldn't know.

In other words: that PINK BITCH impostor. ]

...Alright, Sir. Erm. Thanks.

[ beat ]

'Nd she's not my Miss Zeetha, Sir.

[velesdonnersen.livejournal.com]

[His tone is amused, but not unkind. If nothing else, his own heart's rather oddly assigned, all said and done.]

Your words say one thing, your actions another, Airman. I find I like the man of action best -- if it matters.

And you're welcome. I wish I could reassure you as much as you reassured me, regarding Agatha and Gil. But I do think she'll be well.

[It's probably a pity you didn't call Zola That Bad Name outloud. Or even the less bad name. You'd find a solid opening for the beginning of a beautiful friendship on that shared loathing alone...]

[madeofstoic.livejournal.com]

[ Sorry Tarvek you know Higgs isn't going to say BITCH out loud.

He is also not going to stop blushing wow sir ] I...she's not...[ SIGH ]

Not a problem, sir.

[velesdonnersen.livejournal.com]

[Yeah. Airman's cute when he's in lurv.]

[Tarvek also...kind of hopes they can stay in contact. It's good to have someone from home. Especially someone he's not automatically convinced wants to kill him on general principle.]

Um. Again, I'm at 1126 Taylor Street. I've -- I've found another new person here to help me with learning to drive, maybe. But I'll need to practice more. I've you have learned how to drive, I wouldn't mind someone else to keep an eye on me while I practice.

I'd offer help in return, but I'm afraid I don't yet know if I have any real skills to offer, here.

[And you can probably hear that he finds that simply demoralizing. A Spark with no skills or talent to offer? He feels like the useless aristo brat so many people always assumed he was...]

[madeofstoic.livejournal.com]

[ He honestly wasn't bothering with the car, he's terrible with it. ] Not very good with it, Sir. 'Fraid I can't help you with that.

[velesdonnersen.livejournal.com]

[Brightens.]

Ah! Well, then. Maybe if you need a ride I'll be able to provide one, soon!

In any case...

Um.

It's good to hear your voice.

Stay in touch?

[He doesn't know how to end phone conversations, and secretly doesn't want to anyway. It IS good to hear the Airman's voice, and with his suspicions about the Airman's Sekrit Identity it's also a comfort.]

[madeofstoic.livejournal.com]

[ Don't worry Tarvek you're doing it right. ] Probably a good idea.