Video: When Props Attack

[timesbureaucrat]

[The communicator comes on with the sound of a hard crack, like the buttons are being smacked instead of pushed. The communicator bounces with the force of the blow.

On the screen, Narvin is looking wild-eyed and hair askew. He swears in Gallifreyan and runs a frustrated hand over his head.

Well, now that the communicator is on, he might as well explain.]

One of those vile pests has got into my room. If there's an exterminator around, I would pay good emeralds to see the blasted thing put out of my misery. I last saw it disguising itself as a communicator, but where or what it is now...

[He scans the room, sees something moving out of the corner of his eye.]

No don't--! [And runs off chasing after the Prop, communicator still on, but left on the table.]

Comments

[thumbsdown]

[And at least a vase can't get underneath a door. Boone goes to shoot it, but Rex is barking and tearing off down the hallway after the prop, and Boone doesn't want to hit the cyberdog by accident. He runs after them instead, but then the prop turns in the completely opposite direction, shoots through Boone's legs, and he has to quickly flatten himself against the wall before Rex bowls him over, still snarling as he chases the vase.

When the prop hides under the table, Rex completely destroys it and the chairs in his haste to get at it. The prop escapes, and Rex drags the table and chairs out with him as he follows. He's starting to wonder if bringing Rex wasn't such a brilliant idea, but it does seem as though he's nearly caught the thing a couple of times.]

[timesbureaucrat]

[Narvin's eyes widen as Rex tears after the Prop. Well...the robot janitors would have something to do today.

He glances around to make sure one of Jeffers' android extensions isn't about. It was destruction for a good cause, not idle vandalism, but he isn't sure Jeffers would see it that way.]

[timesbureaucrat]

[He copies her two note whistle, verifying that he's got it.]

Alright, so when I... [He doesn't want to say "sniff out" it makes him sound like a blood hound.]...locate a Prop, I give the whistle and you draw it into a trap?

[This hunting business is more complicated than he realized.]

[tawarwaith]

[She flashes him a quick smile when he copies her whistle, and then nods]

Yes, more or less. All we need now is a place to hold them. Preferably clear so we know how many are in there to begin with.

[thumbsdown]

[Boone follows after Rex, they round a corner, and there's the sound of a scuffle. There's a crash, and then a pair of shades comes back into view. Rex rushes forward, finally grabs them, and crushes them between his jaws. When Boone comes back into view, his own shades are askew.]

Didn't know they could jump that high.

[Seeing the bits of glass on the floor by Rex, he heads over and shushes him out of the way. When he prods the pieces with his foot, nothing happens.]

...Is it dead?

[It seems that way, but he's still paranoid that one of the pieces will suddenly get up and run down the hall again.]

[timesbureaucrat]

[Narvin kneels on the ground, subtly sniffs the air, touches a few small specks of what might be alien blood on the floor.]

Yes, I think it's dead.

[He looks at Rex, vaguely aware that you're supposed to praise dogs when they do what they're supposed to, but Narvin isn't experienced with animals--at least not animals that don't have their own governments and economies.

He clears his throat awkwardly.]

...Well done, Rex.

[timesbureaucrat]

Indeed, the one in my room is probably not the only one in the area.

[...something clear to hold them in...]

Glass is heavy, not to mention brittle. Perhaps a cage of transparent aluminium?

[thumbsdown]

[Boone is better about the praise, scratching behind Rex's ears before pulling something out of his pocket and feeding it to him. The cyberdog chews it happily enough, but can't swallow it so leaves the chewed up mess on the floor when he's done.]

Well, that's one dead. Doubt we made a dent in the numbers here but it's still one less to worry about.

[timesbureaucrat]

[Narvin's mouth twists in disgust at the mashed up dog treat that was spat on the floor. Well, one more bit for the androids to clean.]

I shall count each death as a victory.

We'd better leave the area before a resort bot arrives.

[tawarwaith]

Unfortunately so. Unless they can teleport, the two who attacked me could no have been the same as yours.

[She had no idea what transparent aluminium was, so she could only assume it would be effective and nodded.]

If it holds them, all the better. It need not be too big, Just big enough.

[thumbsdown]

Yeah, probably.

[He turns to head back the way he came, unsure if Narvin is going back to his room or not but figuring he'd better get back to patrolling.]

Let me know if you see any others. Might be worth getting a hound to like you so it can chase them for you.

[timesbureaucrat]

I don't think I'm cut out for a pet. Too unpredictable. Too...hairy.

[Narvin isn't comfortable around animals. Rex is somewhat better than most because at least he's half machine. But Narvin's idea of a dog is one that's really a robot, like K9.]

[timesbureaucrat]

I'll go see what I can cobble together.

[And he trots away to use the spawner to produce a few flat, clear sheets, then quickly welds the corners together into a box. It takes about fifteen minutes before he's back with a clear box.]

Will this do?

[tawarwaith]

[Tauriel was not used to waiting idly so she starts pacing and poking at her room looking around it to make sure there were no Props lurking about in plain sight.

When Narvin returns, she is quick to appear once more looking over the box he had made.]

Perfect! That will be of use. We can go hunting at any time you are ready.

[thumbsdown]

[Boone just shrugs. He likes animals well enough. Not the ones that try to kill you, but the ones that will sit around and let you talk to them and lick your face when you're having a bad day. Having hair around the house is a small price to pay for a little company.]

Your choice. Hopefully someone will figure out a way to deal with these things soon, so we're not stuck destroying hallways trying to catch them.

[timesbureaucrat]

After you...[And he wants to add a title at the end, but realizes he doesn't know what's appropriate. "Miss" doesn't seem right somehow.]

Do you have a rank? [Time Lords are very hierarchical. Titles and ranks are important, and if she has one he wants to know so he can use it appropriately.]

[tawarwaith]

I was a Captain of the guard back in Mirkwood. I guess it could be said that it is still my rank.

[She also doesn't know if that still holds true since she abandoned her post and defied her king. A part of her hopes that when she eventually returns home, that it would be her rank again. Rather than dwell on her fears, she flashes him a quick, humorless smile, trying to get herself back on track for hunting Props.]

Shall I meet you in the lobby?

[timesbureaucrat]

All right then, Captain. [He files that in his head. The title is "captain" but the rank seems equivalent to the Gallifreyan Castellan.]

To the lobby then. I'm curious to see how this contraption will work.

[tawarwaith]

[With a nod she collects her bow and daggers and secures them on her person. She doubts very much that they will be of use, but it is by far better than nothing.]

With luck we will catch them before too much damage is done elsewhere.

[She certainly hopes she is fast enough and agile enough t catch a prop before it can escape her.]

[timesbureaucrat]

Or before they embarrass me further. [Narvin mutters. He cares more about his pride than about damage to property.]

[tawarwaith]

[That gets a laugh from her.] Be sure to check your trousers![ Which is said juuust before she cuts the feed.]