let's just say i'm frankenstein's monster. (
violenthearted) wrote in
poly_chromatic2013-01-29 11:27 am
Entry tags:
♞ one :: there will be no vernacular here B|
[No doubt by this point the City is overwhelmingly used to what appear to be lost idiots appearing in their midst, and everyone is very, very, tired of giving the same spiel. 'No, you can't leave, no, no one has any real idea what's going on, yes, that Clock is a right bastard, isn't it?'
Etc.
So fortunately the man - tall even though he's sitting down, wearing an air of vague menace, too many teeth in his mouth - who appears in the video monitor has questions which require none of these answers. Erik has what could probably be called a severe psychological problem with displaying any kind of active weakness, and looking out of his depth certainly qualifies. By the time he deigns to contact the Network he's gathered some idea of what's happened to him (which he's not so blase as to accept as normal, but then again the last couple of weeks have included women who can turn into living diamond, hauling submarines ass over tea kettle out of the water, and a gentleman who bears a marked resemblance to Goethe's idea of Satan) and figured out at least the basics of the helpful device with which he's been outfitted. Incidentally he's holding this video conference in what appears to be one of the city's many coffee shops, imbibing a cup of something approximately the consistency of pitch.
He speaks with no clearly discernible accent, although those with the correctly trained ear will observe a melting pot of Europeanness in there: Germany by way of everywhere.EXCEPT IRELAND]
So this is the future.
[Close enough for horseshoes, hand grenades and government work, anyway.]
I have to say--it's not exactly as I pictured it.
[A dry laugh, and the spindling of some small, shiny object like a coin across the knuckles of one hand. Said object appears to be floating, which is ...interesting. It may also be a little marred by some dark, rusty stain, but that's harder to see. Some people are reticent about their bizarro abilities, and some people are Erik Lehnsherr.]
The mechanics of where I am are somewhat beyond me - [he shrugs with infinite nonchalance] - not really my area. But the half century between 1962 and today seem to have left rather a gap in my life, so who better than the populace of this city to fill it? There are books for this sort of inquiry, of course, but those are always written by the victors. [Erik favors the camera with a sharky little smile.] Rarely to be trusted. It's the stories no one writes down that are always more interesting, at least to someone like me.
I've been told I'm a quick study, so--enlighten me, City. What's happened in the last sixty years that the history books have missed? Or blotted out, for the sake of the delicate masses.
There's no need to restrict yourself to the history of humankind - [he pronounces this as though he's accidentally bitten into a live grub], for the record. I'm not human, and I'm just as interested in species who haven't made a hobby of killing one another.
Etc.
So fortunately the man - tall even though he's sitting down, wearing an air of vague menace, too many teeth in his mouth - who appears in the video monitor has questions which require none of these answers. Erik has what could probably be called a severe psychological problem with displaying any kind of active weakness, and looking out of his depth certainly qualifies. By the time he deigns to contact the Network he's gathered some idea of what's happened to him (which he's not so blase as to accept as normal, but then again the last couple of weeks have included women who can turn into living diamond, hauling submarines ass over tea kettle out of the water, and a gentleman who bears a marked resemblance to Goethe's idea of Satan) and figured out at least the basics of the helpful device with which he's been outfitted. Incidentally he's holding this video conference in what appears to be one of the city's many coffee shops, imbibing a cup of something approximately the consistency of pitch.
He speaks with no clearly discernible accent, although those with the correctly trained ear will observe a melting pot of Europeanness in there: Germany by way of everywhere.
So this is the future.
[Close enough for horseshoes, hand grenades and government work, anyway.]
I have to say--it's not exactly as I pictured it.
[A dry laugh, and the spindling of some small, shiny object like a coin across the knuckles of one hand. Said object appears to be floating, which is ...interesting. It may also be a little marred by some dark, rusty stain, but that's harder to see. Some people are reticent about their bizarro abilities, and some people are Erik Lehnsherr.]
The mechanics of where I am are somewhat beyond me - [he shrugs with infinite nonchalance] - not really my area. But the half century between 1962 and today seem to have left rather a gap in my life, so who better than the populace of this city to fill it? There are books for this sort of inquiry, of course, but those are always written by the victors. [Erik favors the camera with a sharky little smile.] Rarely to be trusted. It's the stories no one writes down that are always more interesting, at least to someone like me.
I've been told I'm a quick study, so--enlighten me, City. What's happened in the last sixty years that the history books have missed? Or blotted out, for the sake of the delicate masses.
There's no need to restrict yourself to the history of humankind - [he pronounces this as though he's accidentally bitten into a live grub], for the record. I'm not human, and I'm just as interested in species who haven't made a hobby of killing one another.

audio;
[ He sounds ... almost happy about it. ]