(watching the door)

[mechanicalswans]

Weyland would have you know he is not brooding.

He doesn't do that anymore. He doesn't need to; he's a happily married man with a viable plan for world destruction. No, what he is doing is simply leaning against the bar and watching the door, maybe studying it for the energies of transportation in the same way that they studied the window for the energies of destruction. He already knows how to make portals, but the energies here are different, that's all.

And he hasn't taken up smoking again to calm his nerves, either--no, he'd simply found some in his room, and is indulging in a bit of harmless nostalgia over a glass of Atlantean. Remembering his world the way it had been, and imagining how it will be once they've remade it.

And this has nothing to do with the fact that he hasn't seen Loki in a week now. He isn't doomed to spend all eternity wondering where his current wife has gone off to. For one thing, his world doesn't have eternity. For another... well. He'll think of something.

Distractions are welcome.

[open forever!]

Comments

[destroy_restart]

Tower is smoking, of course. He always is.

And he grins at Weyland.

[mechanicalswans]

It may be a filthy habit but it contributes to the mood.

He doesn't return the grin, though he does raise his glass by way of greeting.

"A fine evening tonight," he says.

[destroy_restart]

Tower gives him a deep look. "Very fine evening for it, definitely," he says. "Whatever it is you're up to."

Weyland is clearly up to something, by his book, which is of course thoroughly a good thing.

[mechanicalswans]

"I'm just thinking, that's all."

And certainly not brooding, that's for sure.

"It's a good night for that. The time of year, the strange feeling outside... a man can get ideas."

[destroy_restart]

"Oh yes, they're having some sort of shenanigans," Tower says. "With fog and trees and the lot. Very autumnal. Well done, whoever they are."

Beat.

"Atlantean, huh?"

[mechanicalswans]

"I don't normally drink wine," he admits. "But the mead and the cider they have here aren't to my liking--they're like drinking slightly muddy water. And I had an entire year of apple brandy, so it's time for something different."

'Different,' but still in his usual range of options. He should really change more.

[destroy_restart]

"Then let me order you a scotch," Tower says. "I was going to have one, anyway."

[mechanicalswans]

"That sounds like an excellent plan," he says, and finishes off his glass of wine.

"They say life is too short to be caught up in the same patterns all the time, but I don't know whether there's much incentive to change once you're already dead."

[destroy_restart]

"Death here is just a technicality," Tower says. "She refuses to work here. No business rule, see?"

He orders scotch from the waitrat that passes next. "Islay malt, surprise me, Thady!" he says, to the mottled animal that quickly scurries away.

[mechanicalswans]

"She worked for me," he says with a quiet chuckle. "Or at least, she sent me a letter a long time ago, and it finally reached me here. But I don't mind. You can't fix a problem if you don't have an accurate picture of the situation, and now I do."

[destroy_restart]

"Break it first, fix it later," Tower shrugs, gesturing with his cigar.

[mechanicalswans]

"But there's a difference between..."

He gestures vaguely as he tries to think of the words.

"Between re-breaking a bone to set it properly, and taking a hammer and shattering it completely. I want to know exactly what I'm breaking, see the lines it's separating on, so I'll know how I can reassemble it."

[destroy_restart]

"Just throw it down," Tower says, "don't plan too much. Plans are only an invitation to failure."

[mechanicalswans]

"Perhaps," he says. "But we have a time-device involved. We need to know what point to act, when we would do the most damage."

[destroy_restart]

"Just pull out one match, somewhere, and it'll all come down," Tower says, cheerfully.

[mechanicalswans]

"The last time I used my time-device," he explains, "it, along with most of my passenger, were thrown somewhere completely different--I still don't know where or when--and I ended up here. I'm not opposed to the end of my existence, but I'm not about to smash myself into a wall for no purpose."

[destroy_restart]

"You need a better time machine first," Tower ponders.

The scotch arrives, a very pale topaz-coloured liquid in straight, simple glasses.

[mechanicalswans]

"I've been working on it," he says, and gestures toward the window.

"It recreates that, almost exactly--the energies of destruction and rebirth. But I've had to rebuild it, since my original was lost, or maybe destroyed."

[destroy_restart]

"That's a big thing to harness," Tower says. "Congratulations on especially daring boldness, good man."

[mechanicalswans]

"I never do anything halfway," he says. "What's the sense of putting the time and effort in, just to make something ordinary? No, everything I do, I give my all."

[destroy_restart]

"You do," Tower says. "But that doesn't mean the world is honour bound to cooperate in acknowledgement of your amazing feat. Most of the early aviation pioneers fell from the sky, until one finally didn't. And they all gave their all, most of them literally!"

[mechanicalswans]

"I've already fallen from the sky," he says with a quiet chuckle. "Twice. The first time killed me, and the second... well, I don't know, but it did something. Started things over."

[destroy_restart]

"Destroy, restart," Tower says. "I like that attitude."

[mechanicalswans]

"Anything's better than standing still," he says. "I've done that for far too long. And my partner can't bear stasis--she doesn't care much about direction, as long as there's movement."

[destroy_restart]

"So you direct her, and she moves?" Tower guesses.