[video]

[candothat]

[Chekov, slightly disheveled, is seated in the cottage's living room (toying, of course, with a gadget of some sort, as the boy has difficulties being still and without a task. There's a stranger seated next to him. He appears slightly older, considerably broader through the shoulders, a good deal taller, and far less inclined to fidget than the eighteen year-old.]

I'm told that this is an acceptable way to address the City. [The stranger has a distinctly Russian accent. It is, however, far easier to comprehend than Chekov's.] My name is Pavel Chekov.

And I believe that you may be a version [wersion] of me from an alternate reality.

Or you may be a version [the 'v' is not mangled] of me.

Being older does not give you the right to be the original Pavel Chekov. Anyway, I think that this is a curse and you will leave in a day or so and I'll still be here.

[The two Chekovs are no longer making any attempt to address the camera. There's a palpable uneasiness between them--a silent war in the making. Both of them manage to remain relatively genial in both expression and tone, but the uneasiness is clear all the same.]

I almost envy you. If this is a cage, as you said, it's a very nice one. The vodka is good, all of the women are beautiful--

Of course the vodka is good; it's mine. Maybe you are older and better at fighting, but I know how to choose a good drink. [Chekov--the one the City is more accustomed to--grabs the bottle of Stoli from his counterpart.] You're far enough into the bottle. Give it to me.

As they say in Russia, "I don't need your valuable directives."

This is my home and my vodka. You should be more courteous.

If you were a better host, maybe... [Taller, less adorable Chekov ruffles the other Chekov's hair. The latter is not amused.] But why fight when we can settle this like men? One more fight, fists only. The winner gets to stay here and the loser goes.

[Chekov rubs a bruised cheek, sulky.] You have the advantage.

I was joking. Let's drink and be friends.

I would rather go running.

Please, do what you like. Perhaps I can become better acquainted with Misses Uhura.

Don't flirt with her--either of her. [Curly-haired Chekov sets his gadget and the bottle of vodka aside and moves out of sight. The other Chekov watches him curiously, reclaims the vodka, and takes a healthy swig.] I say that for her benefit and yours. She dislikes it.

Have a good run!

[A door slams. The remaining Chekov gives the camera an apologetic smile.]

Forgive Pavel's ill-humor; he may be mad at me for winning our sparring match. But, if you would like to talk to me, my humor is intact and I have little to do.


[ooc: Chekov isn't getting on well with his Good Side (if you want some tl;dr on said Good Side, it's right here). Actual!Chekov can either be action'd up while out or contacted via the network later on; Other!Chekov is free for network communication. If you fancy talking to both, that can happen later. Do indicate to whom and when your characters are replying!]

Comments

[mightbeconcussed]

[A taller, quieter Lucy addresses the remaining, older Chekov.]

Ah, I see you've managed to run yours off. I've only managed to stick mine in the corner. Obviously neither of them know anything about hospitality.

[candothat]

[The corners of his mouth twitch up in a smile before he summons a more serious expression.]

Hospitality is a lost art, it seems, but he made the choice to go. May I ask your name, beautiful lady?

[mightbeconcussed]

Of course you can. I'm Lucy.

Our...less enlightened selves seem to be dating.

[candothat]

It's a pleasure, Miss Lucy. Ensign Pavel Andreievich Chekov, at your service.

[News to him. Not bad news, though...]

Oh? He is a very lucky boy, dating any version of you, enlightened or not.

video; Other!Chekov and maybe Actual!Chekov at some point? :3

[mortemscintilla]

....A sparring match?

video; Lovely!

[candothat]

A friendly exercise. Common practice at the Academy.

video; <33!

[mortemscintilla]

So ...Pavel lost?

[ For shame, City!Pavel. ]

video; <(^^<)

[candothat]

Yes, but he was at a disadvantage. I'm older, stronger, better-trained, just as quick... he relies on speed and maneuverability. A good tactic, considering his limited combat abilities, but useless against someone who's also fast.

Does this surprise you? Has the boy made a name for himself as a brawler?

voice; to other!chekov but happy to have either/both as you prefer <3

[defies_reason]

You don't seem to get on very well with yourself, Pavel Andreievich.

voice; gotcha!

[candothat]

[The use of the patronymic earns Isaak a wary look that passes quickly.]

I like myself well enough. He is young; I can't fault him for that.

[As if this version isn't young.]

voice;

[defies_reason]

[Hey, Chekov usually doesn't mind it. Honestly, the younger man-- youngest man, under present circumstances-- always seems vaguely homesick; that's why Isaak does it, mainly.]

Weren't we all, once.

voice;

[candothat]

[Oh, Chekov--the normal one--appreciates it immensely. This particular Chekov is far too brave to suffer from things like homesickness.]

Fortunately, we grew out of it.

I am at a disadvantage, sir; you know my name, but I don't know yours.

voice; "better side" in small text

[thermonuclear_birdbrain]

Chekhov, you okay?

He's fine. You should get to know him; he has a brain in his head.

voice; understood!

[candothat]

["Better Side" Chekov responds.]

Are we acquainted, Miss?

...Or Misses?

voice;

[thermonuclear_birdbrain]

My apologies. She should be doing her lessons, but instead--

Look, psycho-me, it's my Network thing!

Mine for the day. You need to learn how to use it before you can talk.

Shut the hell--

*(sounds of shoving)*

There. Now. No, we aren't. It is a bit odd to get used to, but I have the same name as Utsuho. Ah...perhaps call me by our last name, then. Reiuji. It becomes easier to distinguish between who one is speaking to.

And you are Chekhov, I assume?

voice;

[candothat]

I am a Chekov. It's a pleasure, Miss Reiuji... and Miss Utsuho, was it?

text;

[int4glio]

a country shitfaced by noon.
no wonder they were all eaten.

text;

[candothat]

[That sounded a lot like an insult to Russia. "Better Side" Chekov will give her the benefit of the doubt.]

I beg your pardon?

text;

[int4glio]

[Let her be more explicitly rude.]

useless drunkards tripping over themselves.

voice; to Other!Chekov

[anatural]

[She'd only hopped on the device to send a message to Chekov, asking if he wants to hang out tonight. Witnessing this little exchange distracts her from that.]

Who are you?

[Yeah, yeah, he already introduced himself as Pavel Chekov. Korra isn't buying it.]

voice;

[candothat]

Ensign Pavel Andreievich Chekov, Miss. May I ask for your name?

[He doesn't say anything flirtatious, but the flirting is most definitely happening.]

voice;

[anatural]

Korra. And you're not Chekov.

video/russian; to other!chekov

[majorcrotchgrab]

...

[He's noticed the lack of W's in the other's accent. He did always find that odd about Chekov but... eh.]

That was rude of you, just taking his vodka, you know.

video/russian;

[candothat]

He offered me a drink. I accepted and he neglected to ask for it back in a polite way.

Your dialect--it's not one I've heard before. What time are you from?

[The Chekov in the City has an unfortunate speech impediment. Most people don't call him out on it because they assume it's part of his accent.]

video/russian;

[majorcrotchgrab]

I see.

... I'm from 1964.