Dillon Cole || Scorpion Shard (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
orderfromchaos) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull2012-08-20 04:01 pm
orderfromchaos) wrote in sirenspull2012-08-20 04:01 pm
Entry tags:
Video
[The video opens to a disorienting view: floorboards loom in foreshortened view, wood straight and new under unevenly applied varnish - patches of it are worn thin or absent entirely. The camera sits on the floor, creating the odd perspective, empty of any occupants. Sunlight pours in from one side, an open window. The dust motes suspended in it's beam seem a little off, evenly spaced. Then, suddenly, the stillness is violently interrupted. A glass falls directly in front of the camera, shattering into hundreds of pieces, a few droplets of water splashing on the lens, the rest puddling around the sharp splinters of glass. From outside the frame of view, footsteps can be heard, a few mechanical clicks, and a young man's voice.]
Anybody here ever read Asimov's Foundation? Do you remember the part where that guy cuts the steel bar in half with a laser, and then holds the two halves together again? The laser is so precise that their aren't any impurities or uneven places on the surface, and it just becomes a single piece of metal again.
[There's a low, mechanical roar - a handheld vacuum cleaner. The water leaps and and the shards skitter on the floor, blowing away from the vacuum, which must be set on reverse. He moves around the mess, blowing the bits of glass into one heap. As the bits of glass are buffeted back and forth by the air from the vacuum, something strange happens: as if by sheer chance, they keep landing in place, as perfectly as puzzle pieces, until the glass is completely reconstructed. Most bizarrely of all, the water, too, recollects, leaving the camera clean and dry as the water sits placidly in the perfectly repaired container. The glass should be riddled with cracks, but none are visible.
The vacuum switches off. A hand picks up the glass and the viewpoint suddenly swoops wildly, the camera lifted in his other hand before it stabilizes, then is set on a shelf at shoulder level, with Dillon standing in front of it in a bare room. He’s a young kid, maybe sixteen or seventeen, with immaculate clothes and neat red hair. He grins and takes a drink of the water.]
Hi, guys. Some of you know me already, but I'm Dillon, and I can fix anything. Repair or restoration, as long as you bring me all the pieces. Fees on a sliding scale, and I’m willing to do house calls. Let me know if you’re interested.
Anybody here ever read Asimov's Foundation? Do you remember the part where that guy cuts the steel bar in half with a laser, and then holds the two halves together again? The laser is so precise that their aren't any impurities or uneven places on the surface, and it just becomes a single piece of metal again.
[There's a low, mechanical roar - a handheld vacuum cleaner. The water leaps and and the shards skitter on the floor, blowing away from the vacuum, which must be set on reverse. He moves around the mess, blowing the bits of glass into one heap. As the bits of glass are buffeted back and forth by the air from the vacuum, something strange happens: as if by sheer chance, they keep landing in place, as perfectly as puzzle pieces, until the glass is completely reconstructed. Most bizarrely of all, the water, too, recollects, leaving the camera clean and dry as the water sits placidly in the perfectly repaired container. The glass should be riddled with cracks, but none are visible.
The vacuum switches off. A hand picks up the glass and the viewpoint suddenly swoops wildly, the camera lifted in his other hand before it stabilizes, then is set on a shelf at shoulder level, with Dillon standing in front of it in a bare room. He’s a young kid, maybe sixteen or seventeen, with immaculate clothes and neat red hair. He grins and takes a drink of the water.]
Hi, guys. Some of you know me already, but I'm Dillon, and I can fix anything. Repair or restoration, as long as you bring me all the pieces. Fees on a sliding scale, and I’m willing to do house calls. Let me know if you’re interested.
[voice]
[voice]
[Never mind how much more he's capable of.]
But it's useful enough that I expect some interest.
I'm alright. I've been on my own for a while, so... [he shrugs] I'm pretty used to getting by.
[voice]
If you're sure. I know you can take care of yourself, but I wouldn't like to think that... [He trails off unceremoniously, embarrassed.] If you need anything, you only have to ask.
[voice]
[The year before Deanna, when he'd been really, completely alone - being in Port is nothing like that, but an honest offer of help and comradeship will always go right to the core of him.]
And you're doing good? None of the monsters taken a chunk out of you yet? Because that's something I can't fix.
[voice]
Less easy is talking about himself, as always, but it doesn't bother him too much now that he knows Dillon a little better. He actually manages a chuckle.]
I'm fine. Actually, if I'm going to end up in pieces it'll be at the Knot-A-Fight-Club- though you're going to have better things to do then pick them up for me after every match.
[voice]
[voice]