Chekov, Pavel Andreievich (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
candothat) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
poly_chromatic2013-04-20 11:35 pm
candothat) wrote in poly_chromatic2013-04-20 11:35 pm
Entry tags:
[video]
[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!]
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!]
voice;
voice;
I like you; no wonder we're friends.
voice;
I'm glad I measure up.