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

[tawarwaith]

...Ah... well perhaps we can trick them into a cage of some sort? Or barring that, find an animal who is good at sniffing them out I am certain they've a scent that is all their own, no matter their appearance.

[This was a place of damn near magical science, so her hopes were high.]

[timesbureaucrat]

I'm no trapper, but if we can find out what attracts them it must be possible to lure and cage them.

[The next part...he hesitates. It's a bit embarrassing to him.]

I have a keen sense of smell, especially when I make a point to...[He tries to think of the proper English word to describe a nonhuman sense.]...taste the air.

[tawarwaith]

So far it is as Jeeves said. They are attracted to hair and cloth, perhaps we can make something from such materials that they will find appealing and use that as bait for trapping them.

[She wasn't about to question his sense of smell since she had heightened eyesight and hearing in comparison to most humans. It certainly sounded useful.]

If you can tell the difference between what is and is not a prop, then that will make capturing them all the easier.

[timesbureaucrat]

[Narvin immediately begins to ponder what kind of cloth might best attract a Prop. Something soft and fibrous, good for nesting.

As for finding them...]

Perhaps, if they don't run away the moment I sniff them.

[tawarwaith]

[She is willing to offer some of her hair up as part of the nest, since they seemed particularly attracted to it.]

The trick then as with any hunting is to not let the prey catch on tot he game until the right moment. Perhaps a gesture or a sound might work to alerting me should you find one? That way, the chance of the Prop catching on is less.

[timesbureaucrat]

A sound? What sort of sound? [Narvin has never hunted. This is all very new to him. Leela would probably be laughing at his ignorance right now. Laughing and gleefully joining in on the hunting.]

[tawarwaith]

Can you mimic any animals? [She is not about to be specific about a type of animal, given the very different worlds they come from.] Barring that, are you able to whistle a note of some kind. It need not be long or loud or complex. Just enough to get my attention.

[timesbureaucrat]

[He pauses before answering. Like the sniffing, it's another Gallifreyan trait that Narvin finds undignified. Mimicry is something Gallifreyan infants do, copying all sorts of sounds they hear--animal calls, computer beeps, door chimes, footsteps, bells, the creak of furniture--before they learn to speak.

He sighs softly under his breath. It may be childish in his eyes, but it's for a good cause.]

I can mimic an animal. Or a whistle. Give me a sound to use as a signal and I'll copy it.

[tawarwaith]

[The more you know. Naturally, she had no idea that she was asking him to do all sorts of awkward things, so she just blithely continued on, oblivious.]

A simple whistle might be easiest, I'll show you what I mean.

[She trilled a rather simple two note whistle, that was neither too shrill or long.]

Should they catch on, we might change it then, but this should work at least at the beginning.

[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.

[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?

[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.

[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.

[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.]