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Video: When Props Attack

[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.]

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Has anyone ever tried to control the virus, to...use it? [Because Narvin's first thought is that it would be handy for infiltration if you could either control or accurately predict how long the effects would last and when they would come on again. And guide who a person would turn into. The perfect cover, better than a Chameleon Arch.]

Why would anyone want to? [He asks with legitimate innocence.] I can understand the desire to be unlike yourself. [He gestures to the paralyzed side of his face.] But you could hurt yourself or someone else. Sometimes the way people think of other people isn't always pleasant.

[Visscher response makes Narvin feel a little guilty for thinking of it himself.]

Yes...well...that's the thing, isn't it. People are sometimes terrible and manipulative and when something like that virus exists it follows that someone, somewhere, has tried to find a way to turn it to their advantage, even if they didn't succeed.

Yes... well.... They're sometimes terrible. But sometimes someone can see someone everyone else hates with a lot of love. That person would notice the difference.

I like to imagine people aren't as other people see them, anyway. There's always something they don't expect, or we would get bored with each other very quickly. [He flinches one of his half-smiles at that.]

[Now Narvin feels even more guilty. He's usually accepting of the fact that he's a bit of a terrible person, but when he comes face to face with someone who very much isn't, it makes his conscience twinge uncomfortably.]

That's a very forgiving sentiment. Although I'm sure there are some people in the universe whom no one loves.

[Narvin is fairly sure he's one of them. There are a few people he might tentatively call "friends" but they don't love him. The idea of Leela loving him, or heaven help him, Romana, is too strange to contemplate.]

That is impossible. Perhaps there are people that cannot love, but being unlovable is unlikely if one is sentient. If the man that ruined the country of my parents could be loved by his fiance, then obviously anyone stands a chance.

...

At least in friendship.

[Because, despite his idealistic thought that if Hitler could be loved anyone could, he still doubts very much it was possible for him.]

[Narvin looks a bit dubious, but he'll grant that it's a nice thought and he's willing to entertain it.]

I suppose the universe is a big place. Full of all kinds of unusual people. I suppose some of those people are contrary enough to love even the difficult to love individuals. If they ever have the good fortune to cross paths at the right time.

I used to be around difficult to love men. Quite frequently. The ones that did love them usually did so quite loudly and stubbornly, even if they were fewer than most.

[He rises from his place, dusting himself off.] However I am not much in the mood to spare the man in the hallway much affection. Is it alright if I wait a few minutes to step out. My heart is still ba-dumm dumm dumm [He uses the German onomatopoeia of a heart beating.]

I'm sorry, your hearts...heart is...fibrillating? Will you be all right? [That doesn't sound anything like he thinks of hearts sounding like. But then, he thinks of hearts coming in pairs and resounding in a slow duet.]

[He snorts a laugh at him again, forgetting his face for a moment.]

It's just the sound of a human heart pounding, I'm sorry. I'm still a little startled.

Ah. I've never heard a human heart. Does it really sound like that?

[He remembers that he never did answer Visscher's request.]

And yes, you can wait here. Even I am not so cruel as to inflict an angry Andorian upon a person.

I don't have my stethoscope on me or I would let you hear it. [His is a handy little thing, too, with a single metal digital device to press to a chest and earbuds to transmit the sound.]

Perhaps another time. [If he was going to be surrounded by humans, he decides that he ought to know more about their anatomy.]

For that matter, a crash course in emergency first aid for humans wouldn't go amiss, if you're willing. There being such a swarm of them here. I only know how to treat Gallifreyans.

I'll be sure to recommend to the clinic that we have first aid classes geared toward any relevant species. But yes, they are seeming to favor humans in their recruitment. Probably because the first settlers were human. [Or that's what he's hoping, anyway, not for anything more nefarious than that.]

[And he just stands there awkwardly. It seems odd to sit in this room. Despite having seen underwear loose in it, it feels unprofessional to sit unless invited]

Humans tend to be plentiful, with their high breeding rate and a strong instinct to expand across new territories and claim them--whether someone else is already there or not. I suppose it's not too surprising that humans are both the easiest sentients to find and those most likely to agree to travel to an unfamiliar universe on a whim.

[...maybe not the most flattering way to talk about humans. But at least he's not calling them a 'lesser species.' Still, he attempts to insert a bit of tact and adds:]

With all due respect.

Usually when people say that they don't actually mean any respect. They just realized they were insulting you.

[He just sounds a little disappointed as he says that, not even in an angry way. It's as though it's something he's come by before.]

[Narvin looks embarrassed at having been found out.]

For what it's worth, I didn't mean to insult you. I haven't had much experience with humans, save one, before I came here. Quick to spread throughout galaxies is...well...the reputation they have as a species, not just on Gallifrey but among many of the time faring races.

Well, I can't help what people think of me or my species. All I can help is what I do. [He still smiles a little in spite of it being a usual sting, even if it's a touch sad and he turns his bad side away to rub his neck when he does.]

So there was something you wanted to discuss before? Since I'm stuck here it might as well be something I start putting thought into now.

[Narvin jumps on the subject change, glad to leave his faux pas behind. Diplomacy was terrible difficult, especially when alien species were involved.]

Yes. I have a...condition, of sorts. It isn't a naturally occurring virus or genetic malfunction. It was something that a doctor gave to me, inflicted on me, very intentionally. I suppose you could say that it's a fatal condition, in the long run. I don't know if it's reversible, but while I have unique technology and medical expertise at my disposal, I want to at least explore the possibility.

Your a Gallifreyan, right? But unlike the Gallifreyans here.

What exactly is the matter? [He happily focuses on that, choosing finally to sit in a chair rather than stand awkwardly and wait for the invitation to do so. Though he looks like he's ready to bolt back up out of it at a moment's notice.]

[It never occurred to Narvin to invite Visscher to sit. Or to take offence at him sitting without invitation. The social nicety just doesn't come to him naturally.]

I'm Gallifreyan, yes. A Gallifreyan with the genetic alterations set down by Lord Rassilon, including the genes governing regeneration.

About a year ago, my nuclea lingua symbiotica were drawn off. My regenerations were removed.

Which the Gallifreyans here also have, except you have other differences?

I haven't seen a genetic comparison yet, but on the Gallifrey I came from--an alternate universe from the one I was loomed into--my DNA was found to have slight variations unlike the local Gallifreyans. It's probably caused by generations of exposure to temporal technology. Everyone on my Gallifrey is imbued with temporal radiation, even if they never fly in a TARDIS. The transduction barriers that surround and protect the planet put out strong chronon emissions.

The Gallifrey I was living on, and the Gallifrey here, they don't have temporal technology. No time tech, no chronon emissions, no temporal genetic mutations.

So any regenerations that they have could only be a base.

[He lifts his chin and scratches at the scruff of his beard, inadvertently looking apish despite his polite and mild demeanor.] Is it the exposure to the temporal technology that alters them, though? Because with some negotiation the fix could be simple. You could be embued with their regenerations and when you returned they would alter naturally.

[Narvin frowns a little at the beard scratching. He can't deny that it looks itchy to him, but if it itches he doesn't know why Visscher keeps it. He assumes that people with beards are trying to hide their face, but Visscher doesn't seem like a liar and a cheat like the Master is, so he wonders why Visscher is hiding.

Then the answer hits him. And he swallows his desire to criticize the beard out loud.]

It's possible that they could grant me a new set of regenerations. If they had a mind to. That sort of gift is very rare. It must be ratified by the Inner Council and is usually only offered to those who have performed an extraordinary service. Or have something the Inner Council desperately wants.

These Gallifreyans don't even know who I am. Convincing them to grant me a full new regeneration cycle could be difficult.

[But Visscher has started wheels turning in Narvin's mind now. Difficult is not impossible, and this is the best idea he's heard so far.]

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