001: [ holo ] curiouser and curiouser

[notmarilyn]

“Good afternoon, Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, how may I -“ The polished telephone manner is rudely interrupted by a gasp of shock, as manicured fingers now clutch at empty space where a receiver used to be

Comments

[voice]

[eggplantgout]

Um. Someone's here but I ain't no Roger or Don.

[holo]

[notmarilyn]

Joan starts as Jason's voice emanates from the tablet, recoiling just a little. Practicality trumps fear of bizarre talking non-telephones however, and frankly she just wants to get back to work and out of this weird tin can. She's still clinging to the vain hope that she's in some strange storage room in the hotel.

Finding her voice, she replies, briskly: "Well then could you direct me back upstairs? I seem to have lost my way - I was in room 435."

[voice]

[eggplantgout]

[Jason pauses and frowns for a moment. He's still not very good at this greeting thing. He tries to remember the information that he would have liked at the time of his arrival.]

I don't know where 435 is ma'am, but I can tell you how to get out of that room if you want.

[holo]

[notmarilyn]

Swallowing a small amount of irritation (honestly, shouldn't the hotel staff know how to get around?) that's also partly directed at herself for getting into this mess in the first place, she nods, patiently.

"That'd be a good place to start, thank you."

[visual]

[garg_elisa]

Elisa's image (or at least, as much of her as can be seen from the shoulders up) appears on the tablet's screen.

"Don't know about either of them," she began, "but I'm... afraid I've got some bad news, Miss."

[holo]

[notmarilyn]

Joan's exploration of the tablet thus far had been limited to a wary glance. She had no interest in sci-fi gadgets, only in getting out of this room and back to where she ought to be.

When Elisa's image flickers into life on the tablet however, she's forced to pay attention. Voices are one thing - she's well accustomed to telephones - but images? It's like a television, but tiny. It's unheard of. Experimentally, she picks the tablet up and scrutinises the picture more closely. It appears that the woman talking to her has pointy ears. That, in itself, is dusturbing.

"Who are you? What is this thing?"

Re: [holo]

[garg_elisa]

"My name's Elisa," she said. "Elisa Maza."

"The rest... is a little more complicated. The tablet though, is basically an all in one phone and computer."

[holo]

[notmarilyn]

The name 'Elisa Maza' doesn't illuminate anything and neither does the explanation of this so-called 'tablet'. Computers in 1963 are rudimentary (and quite large) things and they're certainly not widely available. They look nothing whatsoever like this. It's impossible, all of it.

This is all a bit much to take in, so Joan, in her pragmatic fashion, decides to reduce this down to the more essential facts.

"Miss Maza," she begins, deliberately. "Thirty seconds ago I was at the Pierre hotel in New York, using a real telephone. Suddenly I'm here. I would very much like to hear specific details on the rest that's complicated."

[ voice ]

[lionofolympus]

Hercules can't help himself. There's a low whistle before he speaks.

"Has anyone beaten me to breaking the bad news, fair lady?"

[ holo ]

[notmarilyn]

"Subtle." Joan commends Hercules on the whistle, looking less than impressed. Of course, she's used to attention - but she's really not in the mood for strange compliments from disembodied voices.

"Not in so many words. Could you make yourself useful and tell me what exactly is going on here?"

It's getting kind of obvious that she's not at the Pierre hotel anymore, no matter how much she'd like to deny that fact.

[voice]

[selfmadman]

Don should know better than to doze with the tablet on--it invites dreams of garbled voices, transmissions from people who aren't here or anywhere else--but switching the thing off means either shifting positions or slapping blindly at the table behind his head until he hits the right button.

It's a thin, diluted excuse for sleep that descends on him, and when Joan's voice filters through he stirs, then sits up. Sluggishly he reaches for the tablet.

"Joan?" he says, voice still husky with sleep. No point in asking if it's really her--a miniature Joan Harris hovers above the screen. "It's Don."

[holo]

[notmarilyn]

"Don, thank god." Joan sighs immediately, more than tired of the vague hints and absurdities she's been fed so far by strangers. She clutches the tablet like an anchor.

"Where are you? One second I was at the Pierre, the next..." She lets that sentence hang in the air, because she has no idea where 'here' is and she'd rather not entertain the insane possibility that she's been somehow transported. "...and the people here might as well be speaking Dutch, for all the sense you can get out of them."

[voice]

[selfmadman]

He laughs--after all this time, it's a relief to hear his own thoughts echoed so exactly. "Some are more helpful than others," he says, wryly charitable.

"We're a long way from the Pierre." Setting the tablet aside, Don heaves himself up off the couch, crosses the room to collect his shoes. "Are you out of that room yet?"

[holo]

[notmarilyn]

There are so many questions forming behind Joan's lips, not the least of which is 'where the hell are we?' but for the moment she'll concentrate on the more immediate issue, which is getting out of this increasingly claustrophobic cell.

"If you mean the metal one, then no." A pause, as something catches her attention. "But I think a door just opened."

[ visual ]

[biverbam]

"It's anachronistic," says the big-eyed face of a very unamused young girl in Joan's tablet. River still hasn't learned that proper Taxon newbie greeting etiquette does not involve heavy critique or outright trolling. That or she's selectively not caring because this is, for all she can tell from the holo, She Of Many Names and Husbands.

Oh, this should be interesting.

[ holo ]

[notmarilyn]

Of all the strange and unhelpful greetings Joan has had so far, this is definitely the most random. The visual setting on the tablet is still disconcerting for her - televisions are not this small, and phones don't know how to do this yet - so it's with a wary sort of look and a half-raised eyebrow that Joan replies:

"Excuse me?"

[ visual ]

[biverbam]

With a cold, appraising look, she clarifies: "Cleaned up in reverse. Mercurial recession into--" She pauses, considers names and dates, then frowns.

"Old fashioned. Which name do you have?"

[ holo ]

[notmarilyn]

Joan is getting the distinct impression that this young lady doesn't like her. She also suspects that her outfit was just insulted, but she's not entirely certain. At any rate, she'll match that chilly look.

"You know, honey, it's generally considered more polite to introduce yourself first."