[059: Video]

[shortsightedlove]

[The man currently using Rassilon's journal has a rather big forehead and instead of Rassilon's ornate robes wears comparatively simple clothing.]

Not quite sure why I'm brought here when Meyopapa isn't around. ...Anyone here know something I could do for him -- Rassilon? [The last is quickly tacked onto his question when he realizes that people won't know who he's talking about.] What other Gallifreyans are currently here?

[He swears, he only took a sneak peak at Rassilon's private affairs. Just enough to see that there's at least Omega here, though the guy looks rather different these days. ...Well, is usually here. Might have been replaced as well.]

...Name's Thrift, by the way.


[OOC: Thrift is from some time after the revolution and the Pythia's curse, but before Omega's death.]

Comments

[rass_bestie]

[A smiling blonde appears, Omega's sister, having retired after the revolution.] Hello, Thrift, do you remember me?

[shortsightedlove]

[Thrift smiles back. Someone he knows!] Course I do, Miss! May I ask how you're doing?

[rass_bestie]

[Quntel is pleased to be recognised.] I'm just fine, dear. And you? Anything you need?

[shortsightedlove]

Well, if you know anything I can do for Meyopapa while I'm here, Miss Quntel. Or do you need anything?

[rass_bestie]

Hmm, I'm not sure... from what I've read, it's the experiences that inform the people who... live here. Perhaps you should make some notes and observations?

Oh, I'm sure I can manage my way around.

[shortsightedlove]

[He nods thoughtfully.] ...Suppose I could try that. I'm not sure if I can be of help with this, though...

Well, if anything comes up, you can count on me, Miss.

[rass_bestie]

Other perspectives on issues, on lives, are always helpful, particularly given that this is a place of contemplation and self-improvement.

And you on me, Thrift.

[shortsightedlove]

In any case, I'll do my best to be helpful.

[He smiles.] Thank you, Miss Quntel.

[strayredribbon]

[A handsome, long-haired man-- by Jurisdiction hominid standard, anyway-- smiles out of Stildyne's comm. There's a red ribbon around his throat as a halter, just visible under his tunic.]

There's always something to do. And we've been brought here to help, I think.

What's your master's errand?

[shortsightedlove]

[Thrift notes the ribbon and thinks it's an odd accessory, but well, not like Gallifreyan fashion isn't odd to others. I's odd to him, as well, what with being an alien, technically.]

Gonna see what I can do for him. It might have been nice to see him, though.

I think he's supposed to graduate. Don't know why he's not a warden. [Not having checked that much of Rassilon's journal, he isn't aware how much he's changed.]

[strayredribbon]

I wouldn't mind seeing the Chief either. But the Saint never promised that my service would be convenient.

Maybe you've been brought here to remind him the kind of man he is. That should be a warden. [Thoughtful.]

[shortsightedlove]

Saint? You work for some religion? [Thrift's not going to judge since not everyone's like the Pythia, but his experience with religion is still mainly negative.]

...Remind? Wonder if Meyopapa would be angry if looked through this communicator...

[strayredribbon]

If he's not a warden, he's only forgotten his way for a bit, surely.

I'm a slave to Saint Andrej Malcontent-- my patron. Beloved by the Holy Mother. [Who he doesn't believe in, but no need to quibble about it. The Saint he has his own faith in.] We help those who are in pain. My name's Ferinc-- what's yours, Cousin?

[shortsightedlove]

[But Meyopapa never forgets his way! Oh dear,could that whole curse business done more damage than he'd thought? It's quite terrible, admittedly, but with all the support, surely...]

...Slave? If this Saint and you help people, why has he not freed you yet? Meyopapa never keeps slaves. Freeing me was the first thing he did after winning me.

And I'm Thrift.

[strayredribbon]

[He chuckles gently.] Being his slave was my choice. The Malcontent doesn't take the unwilling.

Eight hundred years ago, the Malcontent rescued two criminals from execution. He made them his slaves; legally, then, their crimes became his responsibility, and they were safe from persecution. He still provides; I gave up everything to him, and in return he gave me what I needed.

Your master sounds like a good man, though.

[shortsightedlove]

[Choosing to be a slave?]

So you're like his.... employee? Just called slave? Doesn't sound so bad now. [Considering he's living on ancient Gallifrey, saving criminals seems like a good thing. Poor sods probably didn't do anything too bad.]

He's the best. It's why I follow him.

[strayredribbon]

[They had the unmitigated gall to be in love with each other-- two men. Which was, at the time, death by burning at the stake.

This is why the Malcontent is the patron saint of the socially unacceptable.]

It's a little more permanent than being his employee. I gave up all of my possessions, my legal rights, in exchange for his protection. But I've never regretted it.

'He's the best.' You can know a man by how his servants feel about him-- I feel the same about the Saint, actually. Although I don't know him personally. He's been dead for centuries, so it would be difficult.

Where do you come from, Thrift?

[shortsightedlove]

[Thrift very much agrees with saving them then. always with that judging and those prejudices.]

It's about how you're treated, right? If he treats you like a thing or like a person. Most nobles think everyone else is a thing they use, but Meyopapa never has. He's on the way to have slavery abolished.

[And he cocks his head.] How can you work for a dead guy? Has he some living representative?

I'm a Tersurrian, technically, but lived most of my life on Gallifrey.

[strayredribbon]

I think that's very much what the Saint was about. Loving everyone. The farmers who farmed his land. Criminals and perverts.

Even outsiders like me, probably, even though the Combine hadn't combined with Jurisdiction in his time...

[So there's an undercurrent of sympathy from Ferinc, because he too has found a new life in a world that isn't his. Haster Girag, the man he was, was a Core worlder like Stildyne. Ferinc... is a child of the Combine, under the wide canopy of the Holy Mother's heaven.]

Every malcontent is his representative. We're the body of the Saint, may he wander in bliss. We do his work. We continue his legacy.

[shortsightedlove]

Sounds like a great man. Shame he isn't alive any more.

[Gallifrey isn't really a place Thrift would want to call his home if it weren't for Rassilon. As it is he has a better boss than he could hope for and working is a requirement everywhere anyway. Besides, someone has to look after Rassilon. And pull crazy priestesses away from him before they butcher him with an iron comb.]

But how can you be sure you're doing what he wants? Couldn't someone take advantage of that?

[strayredribbon]

We keep to what he stood for. We protect the souls under Canopy. We love the unwanted. We offer reconciliation to those in pain. As long as we do that, how we do it is to our discretion.

We have a very long history of discretion. [There seems to be an in-joke there, but not one at anyone's expense.]

[shortsightedlove]

Those are good things to do. Shame Gallifrey doesn't have saints like that; and the few kind gods we have are exploited.

[strayredribbon]

Holy orders will always be exploited. [That's the cynical core worlder talking-- and the malcontent who knows what people do in the name of the Holy Mother.]

I wish I'd known the Saint... before. But I didn't grow up in Combine. I didn't know about their religion one way or another.

[shortsightedlove]

Holy orders 'round here seem to have consisted of kidnapping people and making them kill each other. Or making them slaves.

Certainly seems to be a better religion than what we've got here. At least your Saint seems to have been a good man. The Pythia was a madwoman.

[He won't ask what "before" refers to. Would seem like sticking his nose into other people's business.]

[strayredribbon]

There will always be mad dogs.

[He just nods in understanding.]

Do you have any clues as to what brought your master here? [He guides the subject back towards the other man.]

[shortsightedlove]

Most of them don't curse their people with infertility, though. [...Wait. He got a bit comfortable there. Might not have wanted to say that -- he'll just have to keep his mouth shut about Meyopapa's daughter, at least.]

Ah... Perhaps. Can't say for sure, though -- he seemed... to do relatively well when I saw him yesterday. Something must have happened after. Or in will happen in the future. [There's a slight frown. He's not quite sure which one would apply here.]

[strayredribbon]

No, not all of them do that. But there are mad dogs.

[The Angel of Destruction; genocidal, bitterly prejudiced against the 'lesser bloodlines' of Combine, outright disdainful of non-Combine species, and virulently loathing of the perverts of the malcontent. Some dirty laundry that needs scoured clean, and Ferinc is a little sorry he isn't the one doing the laundering.]

I wonder how long it's been. Nobody under Jurisdiction is as long-lived as some of the folk aboard the barge. I don't think the Chief's been here long, at least, he doesn't seem to have a record past a few months. [And yes, Ferinc has been snooping in his logs.]

[shortsightedlove]

Suppose so.

[The Pythia and her baby killing will probably always keep the top spot for him. Especially seeing what an effect it has on Meyopapa.]

How old can some get? I've not looked around much yet. [He will later, though, so he can actually be of help to Rassilon. And after getting over the shock of what became of the nice (if a little overzealous) young man he knows, he'll resolve to do the best he can for him.]

And may I ask... He's a good man, that Chief?

[strayredribbon]

I don't know, but some of the conversations he's had on the network... hundreds of years, thousands.

[The question about Stildyne gives him pause, because he's a little jealous of his old friend-- and knows enough about his days at Goltrane to ruin him in the eyes of most of the barge.

But that corrupt young warrant officer is as thoroughly dead as 'Haster Girag'. And he can't hurt someone who both his reconciler and the man who sent him to his reconciler love so much. Someone who used to be a friend, when neither of them knew what friends were, really.]

Yes. He's a good man. Abrupt, likes things in order-- warrant officers do, they're predictable that way. I think I've got more than one log of him fighting with your master. But he's a good man.

[shortsightedlove]

That really is old. [The face he'll make if he stumbles upon Rassilon saying he's a billion years old :| How did you even, Meyopapa. Why would want to.]

Fighting? Ah, Meyopapa can be a bit argumentative. He's always fighting with his advisor, too. ...That guy can't just be nice for once either, though. [He'll really have to look at those logs. Oh, Meyopapa, why do you never stay calm.]

[strayredribbon]

The chief doesn't mean anything by it, really. He's like a big draft-ram. You hook him up to an idea and he pulls it forward no matter what you put in his way. Hard-headed, I mean.

I haven't figured out what I've been brought here to do for him, either. Maybe it's something to do with that stubbornness of his.

[shortsightedlove]

Meyopapa's rather stubborn as well. But its' the only way for him to have got so far.

Well, Miss Quntel said that other perspectives on things could be useful. Maybe there's an issue he can't solve by himself?

[strayredribbon]

[There's a boyish smile. It nearly halves his age, when his eyes twinkle like that.]

That's a good thought. I'll just have to see what the good Chief's been up to. [What a convenient excuse to rifle thoroughly through his files and network history.] And see if there's anything he needs help with.

[shortsightedlove]

[It's exactly what he'll justify his own rifling with as well.] I'll go and do the same for Meyopapa.

[strayredribbon]

Perhaps I'll see you on the ship? I'll be out and about; I'll look for you in the crowds.

[shortsightedlove]

[He nods and smiles brightly himself now.] I'll do the same. Good luck with helping your chief.