θ 44

[bit_impossible]

[when the Sphere turns on, it appears as though it's caught him in the middle of a bath, water dripping off his wet hair onto naked shoulders. only, a moment later, the Sphere pulls back a little to reveal a large length of silken brown, blue, and white striped fabric that once was his tie set around something that looks suspiciously like a blue tea cup. in fact, it is, especially if the giant tea spoon peeking out from underneath the tie and the giant tin filled with English Breakfast tea is any indication.

in truth, he's not exactly sure what he thinks about being able to take a bath in his tea cup. he'd rather be drinking his tea, not sitting in the water he intended to use for it. from the displeased expression on his face, he's rather annoyed at the Sphere for catching him in his current predicament. he doesn't bother to mention Ganymede; he's already made his complaints to the Captain.]

Well, I can definitely say I've never done this before. Can check it off my list--though, I'll have to add it to the list then check it off. [mutters] And I've never worn my tie like that before...

[he sighs, slinging his wet arms over the edge of the tea cup, his feet poking up out of the water on the other side.] This new height is very inconvenient. I wanted to modify my Sphere today, but I can't even carry my sonic screwdriver without help. [from off-screen, there's a little squeak, the tone robotic and tinny, followed by a couple others.] Yes, yes, I know you have a job to do, but you're helping me out! That's your job for right now.

Anyway, where was I? [pauses for a moment, running a hand through his hair and ignoring the continued squeaks of protest from off-screen.] Oh yes, being inconvenienced. I rather think that's a theme Ganymede likes to use in these games of his. Orion does a good enough job dabbling in them himself, though he plays those off as us doing him a favour, or us needing to do something so he can help us. Fat lot of good he's been so far. Let him on-board and his father'll turn up dead again--and where will our answers be then? At the end of another black hole?

Comments

[oliverplus]

About what? Letting us see him? Yeah right. He'd rather... [he's trying not to laugh anymore, really, but some snickering might be getting through] ...sell us short. Or you at least!

[bit_impossible]

Oh, har har. You're a regular comedian. Right up there with the vaudevillian greats.

[oliverplus]

Hey, no need to be that sour about it! I'm not exactly towering myself. And at least half the people I've talked to are twice my size!

[bit_impossible]

Twice?! [mutters under his breath] Perhaps those ones never tried speaking with Ganymede...

[oliverplus]

[blinks, then raises an eyebrow] Yeah, that could've done it. But that still doesn't explain why you're so small! We both tried to talk to him.

[bit_impossible]

I did leave him a couple messages... How many times did you try?

[oliverplus]

A couple? I only left one. Well, only one recently, anyway.

[bit_impossible]

How recently? After Ganymede asked for opinions?

[oliverplus]

Yeah, I left one message then.

[bit_impossible]

I see... And how tall are you again?

[oliverplus]

Maybe about 30 centimetres--like I said, right about twice your height. Why?

[bit_impossible]

It makes me wonder if our current heights depend on how many messages we left the good Captain. Or rather the contents.

Did you ever reach a point where the connection was simply cut and you still had more to say?

[oliverplus]

No. Doctor, how long did you talk to him for?

[bit_impossible]

[total over the past few days? Probably close to twenty minutes.]

About a minute and a half before I was cut off.

[oliverplus]

That's not long. No wonder people complained.

[bit_impossible]

How many did complain, I wonder.

[oliverplus]

Well, if you're right, everybody who's my size or smaller.

[bit_impossible]

So, you only left one message and you're thirty centimetres. I wonder how short someone would be had they left two or three...

[oliverplus]

Maybe 15 centimetres?

[bit_impossible]

[mutters under his breath] ...If that were true, I'd be much shorter...

[oliverplus]

[raises an eyebrow] Just how many messages did you leave!?

[bit_impossible]

Four. [pause while he looks away, rubbing a spot on the back of his neck] Well, if you really want to be technical about it, it's more like thirteen.

But! The majority of them were part of the same message! It's not my fault his damn voice mail box could only manage short messages.

[oliverplus]

[stares] And you wonder why you're so small!

[bit_impossible]

Oi, I didn't know this was going to happen! I tried to offer him my help!

[oliverplus]

Help with what? What'd you start explaining that took you thirteen messages?