poly_chromatic | [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!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Agreed.

[ At the mention of Aliens, he blanches. ] That's horrifying! Are they all, um -- Do these non-humanoids have tentacles and oversized heads and the ability to control peoples' thoughts like in movies?

[Chekov isn't fazed by Li's apparent alarm.]

Some. The ones with the over-sized heads are typically humanoid, however.

[ So valiant, godspodin Chekov! ]

I see. [ With a hint of genuine curiosity. ] Um, I've never thought to ask Pavel but -- what's the universe shaped like? Do you know? A funnel? A doughnut?

[Damn straight.]

The shape of the universe? It's still contested, even in my time, but most physicists--myself included--believe it's spherical, with a radius of curvature equal to approximately one-hundred thirty billion light-years. It's so vast that, for all intents and purposes, it's treated as a nearly flat Lambda-CDM model with a slight positive curvature. Mathematically speaking, its ultimate shape matters less than its local shape.

[ ~*swoon*~ ]

[ No, seriously. You're talking about space-travel and astronomy. That's like porn for him. ]

That's ... [ Interesting. Very interesting. ] That makes sense. The most prevalent theory back in my homeworld was that the universe had a flattish dodecahedron-shape, based in phi and the golden ratio. But whether it was accurate or not -- cosmologists never figured out. [ Nerd sigh. ] There were ... obstructions to their research. [ Heaven's Gate manifested, and sealed off the real sky, alongside access -- physical or otherwise -- to the outer regions of space. ]

That theory was based some of the first WMAP cosmic background radiation data gathered, correct? Very advanced for the time, and proposing that the universe is finite with phi-based measurements set the groundwork for many future studies. [Oh, early twenty-first century! As far as Chekov is concerned, that's when modern cosmology was born.] May I ask what these obstructions were?

[ Li cheerfully nods confirmation. ] That's the one. I'm glad it still serves as groundwork. Back in my world there was some debate springing up that the CMB showed too many anomalies, and that the anisotropies in the WMAP data didn't match up with the Big Bang picture. [ Not that cosmologists had time to quibble for long. He ducks his head, his mood deflating considerably. ] Scientifically ... they're hard to explain. The best minds are still puzzling it out. But something sealed the sky off. It was replaced by a fake one -- the stars included. Space travel -- in any sense -- is no longer possible.

If one thing has remained consistent among physicists, it's a tendency to disagree with one another. They can find anomalies in any theory that they don't support.

I'm sorry for your loss. Few things would be more devastating than losing the sky.

So I've seen. But you can't really blame them. Impartial and logical as they try to be, they're only human.

[ Contractors -- the very embodiment of logic -- are no better, certainly. ]

It was. But it's my personal hope that it won't stay lost forever. [ He brightens a little. ] Anyway. I have the City's sky to tide me over in the meanwhile.

Aye, but physics call for more than a human mind.

[Li's predicament saddens Chekov.] This isn't a sky that can be reached.

I can only hope their mistakes serve as warning lessons for their contemporaries. If anything, judging by how advanced yours and Pavel's world is [ worlds are? ] it's proof enough.

[ He purses his lips, eyes downcast. ] I'm aware. But at least the stars are real. [ That, and they're as removed from Messier Codes and Contractors as it gets. ]

I suppose we've done well. You would like the future.

[This doesn't make the situation better.] What good are stars that you can't fly to?

I think I would.

[ Not that he has any interest in preparing for the future and its eventualities. In his line of work you tended live in -- and focus on -- the present alone. ]

People haven't been able to fly to the stars for ten years in my homeworld. I've learnt to count my blessings.

That's all that can be done in grim situations.

[video]

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

Re: video;

video;