resort_link | [Video]

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[Video]

[Wynter doesn't immediately react to the video on, but it's because he's thoughtful rather than unaware. When he does look at the feed he's alert and focused.] My name is Tungwynterestemont. But you can call me Wynter.

I'll be acting as security while here and I'll be very good at it. [He's not saying that to reassure himself, but to make sure his young appearance doesn't make others doubt him, on both sides of the fence.

But that said, he eases off.] Happy to be here.

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[He just looks back at him. It doesn't qualify as 'staring' as there's blinking going on, but he obviously didn't expect to see him.

He can't escape, can he?]

Don't tell anyone about the Broken Man.

[He can have that, can't he? Narvin isn't likely to go 'poor Wynter' and if he's the only one to know, he's in the clear, right?

He rubs his fingers in doubt.]

...

[Well that answers one question.]

Very well.

[He says mildly, hiding behind calm tones while his thoughts scream over and over the bigger question, how are you alive.

It's a question he wants an answer to. And there are things about himself that he doesn't want spread about either, but he doesn't want to discuss them on the communications net.]

We should talk. In person.

[He doesn't respond to the very well beyond being relieved and nods to the suggestion.] Where?

The resort bar. [It's close, and large and quiet enough to find an out of the way corner, and people sit and chat there all the time--it won't draw suspicion.]

Fifteen microspans.

[Wynter honestly would have preferred more direct privacy, who knows what his emotional state would be like in this conversation (he's already bit tightly wound and his first conversation with Iris loomed in his mind. It hadn't gone well at all) but he realised Narvin probably knew the place better.] All right.

See you then.

[Wynter arrived precisely on time to the bar, looking around to see if Narvin had arrived.]

[Narvin arrives early for a reccie, making sure there aren't too many people, or any of the wrong kind of people who make a business of knowing other people's business. But it's as quiet and almost empty as he'd hoped. He claimed a booth in a corner, far away from the bartender and the door and with a good view of the whole room so he could see who comes and goes and who might be paying too close of attention.

When Wynter enters, he raises his arm to catch his attention.]

Over here, Castellan.

[Wynter went when summoned, vaguely wondering if he's now granted the rank of Castellan in perpetuity now that he's dead. The notion makes him giddy but he squelches it down as he sits across from the Coordinator, wishing this conversation already over.]

How have you been?

[A ridiculous question that almost makes him wince after he says it, but he realises it asks everything he wants to know: what did happen after he died and why was Narvin here.]

Not dead, so probably better than you. But only barely. [It hasn't been an easy few years.]

Which brings up the very pressing question: how are you alive?

[Clone? Impostor? Possessed by an incorporeal entity who healed his wounds and is using his corpse? Narvin can think of all kinds of unpleasant possible answers to his question.]

[Well, that wasn't comforting at all, was it?] I'm sorry to hear that.

[He stared at his hands while he gathered his thoughts and strength.] Well. While I was… comatose... I realised I was… able to think. Not. Not that I was too happy about that at the time. [His fists clenched before he forcibly spread them out.] And I realised there was someone there. I thought it was Pandora, but he, I think, had different… attitude.

He called himself 'The Admiral' and he told me he could bring me back to life, if I'd agree to rehabilitate someone for him. I didn't really trust him, but I wasn't exactly in a position to say no.

So I agreed. He realised my doubts and promised that he'd allow me life during my… mission, I suppose, and I could decide if I should return afterwards. Or whatever I wanted to do.

So I went to his ship and, from asking around, I got the sense he was a man of his word. But as time went on, and I was still not paired, that's how it works, on a one to one, I decided I needed more… life experience.

He agreed to let me come here. [So there you are.]

[It all sounds a bit strange and far-fatched... But on the other hand, a lot of things the Agency has dealt with sound strange and far-fetched until they happen. Anti-time. Pandora. The Axis. The Eminence.

This "Admiral" person could be some sort of powerful transtemporal entity. An Eternal or a Guardian.

He leans back in is chair. A spy or imposture would probably chose a more prosaic explanation, not something so peculiar and scarcely believable as being whisked away at the verge of death by an unknown and mysterious entity.

He decides to accept it.]

You'll be glad to know that Pandora was destroyed, thoroughly and utterly. And the virus has been dealt with. Captain Annos has been promoted to Castellan.

[That's certainly a lot brighter than Iris' admittedly second hand and patchy accounting of what occurred.]

He's a good man. [Well, he certainly doesn't hold any enmity against him and it's the thing to say.]

He acquitted himself well in the war against Pandora. [It's almost like agreement. He finds Annos a bit too moral and earnest for his taste--like most Chancellery Guards--but Annos did help save his life by carrying him across the Outlands to find medical aid, so Narvin has to like him a little bit for that.

He thinks of who else's fate Wynter might be interested in.]

Romana is president, and Leela is still with her. Valyes is Chancellor, unfortunately. We lost Braxiatel and Commander Hallan. Inquisitor Darkel is dead. As is Andred.

[Lost placed against dead would suggest that neither are dead.] Lost, how?

[He realises that he skipped over the mere fact of Darkel's death. He ought to be… relieved, glad, grateful. Vindicated. He wonders why he's not. Not feeling much regret either, but there should be a spark of something, right?]

Hallan was infected by Pandora and froze himself in stasis to prevent the virus from spreading to the President. And Braxiatel...he fell through a portal between dimensions. He's probably dead, or worse [drifting for eternity through nothingness], but we have no way of knowing his fate.

[His eyes broadened for a moment. 'You just left him there?'

He doesn't say as much, because he realises that he knows nothing of the virus. Was there no cure.]

Oh. I… see.

[No, not really. Narvin's reporting isn't exactly complete.] I'm sorry.

It had to be done. Hallan was going to set himself on fire otherwise, and Brax...

Well, he saved us. [It's odd, talking about Braxiatel and not saying something catty about him. But Brax is quite probably dead, so it seems disrespectful to speak ill of the probably deceased.]

I believe neither of them had any regrets. They sacrificed themselves for Romana. As we all do.

Well, for Gallifrey.

[He doesn't have anything against Romana, even using his last strength to warn her. But it wasn't for her. It was for everyone. Even Narvin, if only in a small way.]

Try not to follow in our footsteps. [It's a joke, sort of. It's certainly not spoken with any heat behind it. But. He does mean it. Don't get hurt, Narvin.]

[He waves his hand dismissively.]

Same thing. [A vast change from how Narvin used to feel about Romana.]

No need to worry about me. Unlike you Chancellery Guards I have a sense of self preservation.

Oh. [You getting a look that roughly translates to 'if poking you wasn't a social faux pas, I would be. If only to establish you were real.']

Well, it's part of the job description to put your preservation over mine. I think I'll worry regardless.

Speaking of job descriptions, I've told no one but Agent K about my previous occupation. I'd like to continue to keep it quiet. For some reason people tend to be a trifle suspicious of spies. Here, I'm just a technician.

I'm surprised you told K.

It wasn't my intention.

There were a series of bombing at the edge of the village. It turned out to be Creepers, but at the time we suspected terrorist attacks. I offered my assistance. [More like started forcibly thrusting his unwanted assistance upon them and was told by K that, as a civilian, he needed to back off.]

In the course of which, I had to explain to Agent K what exactly my background was and my professional experience with such things.

…oh. [Wynter may not exactly twig Narvin's decision to force his way anywhere, but…] You couldn't do that… ah, discreetly? [Isn't that what spies do?]

I suppose it's a bit small...? [He looks around, wondering if that's it.]

Agent K would have noticed my meddling, no matter how discreet. In a village like this you can't have two people investigating the same thing without them running into each other.

I didn't tell him initially, but eventually it grew prudent to do so to avoid becoming a prime suspect.

I suppose so. [Wynter isn't particularly attached to Narvin's secret, so debating further didn't seem worth it.]

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