maskormenacelogs | lefty make sure that we eat

Calendar Man had recently gotten into trouble for stealing eggs that he did not in fact steal, and while he mostly got off that due to a solid alibi, it irked him. Not the heat, but the fact that it was a crime on a holiday that he had not done. And with his promise to April Ludgate on his mind, he wanted to do something on April Fool's.

On probation with his powers blocked, he didn't have all his resources, however. He's not against help, though. Trickster was obvious; he'd have the goods and it was a holiday that suited the man. Julian had seen Shade's network post as well - the shadowy villain was feeling particularly active, so perhaps he'd lend a hand. He'd sent them both messages with his idea, and now he waited at [ generic public location ] for them to show up.

Shade, on the other hand, was feeling awfully delighted by everything that happened here. Obviously, he'd been the one that had actually stolen the eggs, and while he was rather annoyed that the authorities hadn't found anyculprit -- the case was still open -- at least he'd gotten away with it for himself. That was the important thing.

He stepped out of the shadows nearby, a soft tap of his cane all to announce his presence before the shadows seemed to warp and split, and the Shade stepped out, the grin on his face said enough, how delighted he was to simply exist -- how delighted he was by everything.

"You rang?"

Trickster had decided to walk. Or air walk, more accurately, because 1) amnesia or no amnesia, he was fairly certain he didn't own a car because cars always get confiscated when you go to prison and 2) prancing around fifty feet above the ground attracted attention, and why else would he even bother?

In any case, he arrives via air not long after Shade, with a spring in his step, a conspicuously large bag labeled TRICKS slung over his shoulder, and a set of glasses complete with its own attached fake mustache on his face. Don't mind the rain of confetti he drops to announce his glorious arrival.

"Hey, fellas! Been waiting long?"

"Shade. Having a good April Fool's?"

He smiles at Shade, though his smile doens't quite reach his eyes. He recognizes the man for a fellow, but he was never particularly familiar. And anyone of their sort needed caution.

When Trickster arrives, Julian seems unfazed by his particular appearance. It was, after all, why he had gotten in contact with him. Any other day he might react differently, but today of all days he needs what the Flash rogue has to offer. Calendar casually brushes confetti off his shoulder.

"And Trickster. I do appreciate you both making an appearance."

"Thus far, it's been largely uneventful," he commented, but his smile said very clearly that he was more than aware that it wouldn't be. Not for long. When villains gathered, they were often troublesome gatherings, and that was a touch enjoyable, if juvenile.

Well, Shade didn't necessarily have to do any of the work -- just serve as the vehicle, and they would do the rest. He could then reap the benefits of his enjoyment and deal with the fallout from there. Really, he'd get to enjoy it without any of the real work. That was the best kind of villainy that Shade could ask for, as a rather lazy person.

"And Trickster seems to have finally gotten his work together!" he'd seen him working on it, before. "So what sort of thing has brought us three together?" he asked, although considering Calendar Man's reputation...

He could wager a guess.

"You are familiar with the usual holiday traditions, yeah?" Trickster opens the bag enough to show off a bit of his haul: bubble wrap, glitter, silly string. It's awfully juvenile, and all pretty much harmlessly annoying. But, emphasis on annoying.

"We're gonna prank the nation's capital. Hope you're not too dignified for that, Shade..." But if he is, he only has to play getaway driver.

Julian smiles broadly, peering into Trickster's bag. It was perfect, this was just what he needed. And hopefully harmless enough to prevent too much of a slap on a wrist, while still fulfilling a promise made to a certain April.

"Trickster's correct. What better place to make a fool of on the day of fools?"

Turning to Shade now, he presses the tips of his fingers together. "But going the usual way may too much time. I understand you might be able to assist with that."

Ah -- That was how it was?

Well, Shade was often the mode of transport for others. He sighed, and waved a hand. As if this were a great and terrible burden the two of them had asked him to take on.

"Ah, yes. I see. Very well, if you need me to play the part of the passenger train, I suppose I could assist you both."

In his quest to figure out what exactly happened, the Doctor had taken to visit all of the cities. After all, if he limited himself to just Heropa and De Chima, he might possibly be missing out on someone who remembered more about the timeshift! So today he's in Nonah, wandering around, asking people, chatting up strangers and enjoying an ice cream cone while he does so (isn't it just lovely weather?)

It's as he finishes chatting up a store owner that the Doctor casually looks over at some bald man in a public park, picking up trash...and then just has the oddest feeling of familiarity but the slightest bit of annoyance. Perhaps this is a future memory, the alternate of deja vu. Or, maybe he's just mistaking the bald man for someone else. Either way, the Doctor walks straight up to Calendar Man, gives him a smile, and then just launches right into, "Hello there! I'm the Doctor, I don't mean to be rude but will we meet?"

He certainly fits the Doctor's odd fashion profile. Somehow, the Doctor's managed to get an outfit that looks insanely Edwardian, like he robbed a costume shop or something like that.

At first, all Julian does is stare. He wasn't unobservant. He'd noticed something wrong on the network, and Crane had driven it home. He's already well aware that there's something very wrong with the timelines of imPorts. That being said, this does not quite look like a younger Doctor. He looks like an entirely different person. And that's just strange.

If it is the Doctor, the Doctor he knows, then "will we meet" does sound like something a time traveller would say. And the clothes...

Julian is cautious, eyeing the man. "Depends. Would you call yourself a Time Lord?"

"Of course I'd call myself a Time Lord, I'm the Doctor after all." And here, the Doctor can't help but frown. If this man knows the other Doctor and this man knows the other Doctor is a Time Lord, then why is he getting stared at in a way that the Doctor can only interpret as critical?

Ah. Wait a moment, that might be it.

"I haven't told you about regeneration, have I." The Doctor can't help but frown, tut-tutting a little as he shook his head. "And my future self had been doing so well up to this point."

Julian raises an eyebrow. Between his own world, the City, and this one, he's seen a lot of things. He's heard of a lot of things. So rather than skeptical, he sounds more curious.

"I don't believe you have."

"Well, to make a long story short, regeneration is the act of Time Lords changing bodies when they're close to death. We don't die, instead we regenerate into a new body. New look, new personality, same old Doctor."

Just casually said, like this is no big deal, look at him just casually talk about regeneration.

Well that's different. Julian's silent a moment, staring at the Doctor as he considers it. If what he's saying is true (and it's not April Fool's anymore, so why shouldn't it be?), then this Doctor is a different Doctor than the one he knows. The same, but not.

"A year might have all the same dates, but that doesn't mean 1989 is the same year as 2009." Julian Day: master of calendar metaphors.

"And Easter is still Easter but sometimes shows up in April, precisely!" He gives Julian a big wide grin, clasping Julian's hands with excitement. "I knew you'd understand!"

Of course, the question now is, how on Earth did he know that Julian would understand in the first place? Probably some sort of leftover memory from his future self, the Doctor's decided not to think too much about it.

"I assume that this means you still have all your proper memories?"

Julian stares at the Doctor's hands clasping his for a moment, blinking in surprise at the enthusiasm before looking back up at the Time Lord.

This was confusing, to be sure. But not altogether outside the realm of possibility.

"I do. I remember everything." Including their last conversation, but it probably wouldn't do to bring it up.

Instead, he says, "You called yourself my friend."

The Doctor looks confused for a moment, before that smile comes back on his face. He fixes Julian with a warm smile, as he nods.

"Well if that's the case, I certainly must be your friend." After all, he wouldn't just say he was anybody's friend, right? However he knows Julian, the man must be someone special for the Doctor.

He smiles, though there's something off-putting about his smile, as if he doesn't completely mean it. It's bittersweet.

"Of course. I imagine you must feel out of place. Time displacement can be... unsettling."

He's speaking from experience, that much is obvious.

"Not entirely," the Doctor responds, with a little shrug. Because it is unsettling, but it's an unsettling he's used to. He's been displaced time and time again, he's learned to roll with it. That going with the flow is especially present in this incarnation, which seems to be depressingly prone to amnesia.

"I am a bit out of place but really, that's nothing new. I'm usually a bit out of place no matter where I travel."

Harley had instructed him to be on his best behavior or something. Or not. It wasn't like they had normal standards of behavior, and he'd always been the odd one out at school. He'd never pictured being normal by someone else's standards. Then again, in a city where people could fly and walk through walls was anyone normal? He tries forcing himself to relax, fails and looks around the hovel he's been left in.

His teeth are pressing into his lips. He isn't sure he likes being left with someone he doesn't even know. Then again, he hasn't been sure he likes anyone for a while. And why was that? He's only fourteen years old.

It probably doesn't help the fact that Julian is staring at Crane with a slight frown. The boy doesn't seem to remember him. Good for the timeline, bad for Julian. It irritates him.

He wonders if it's permanent, or if it's one of those things that happens to imPorts. It happened to him once, a visit back to his childhood.

Outside Julian's room, where the roommates have shared living space, there's a tasteful amount of calendars. Only a few per room. Some stacked on the coffee table. You can never have too many calendars. Signs of the other roommates, those still there and those who left, are probably sprinkled about as well.

Julian, for his part, is carefully tearing off pages from one of the numerous Booster Gold Mancalendars in his possession, for arts and crafts.

"Having a difficult week?"

"No."

Jonathan blushes slightly. It's nerve-wracking, talking to strangers. The more he does it, the more he wants to run home, lock the door and curl up in a chair with his books. Books about chemistry, books about mentality, and books about fear.

That last word makes him bold. Fearless. Signs of this man's character are scattered through the room. But the biggest clue for solving the puzzle is the man himself. He tilts his head, birdlike.

"Why aren't you wearing socks?"

Of all the questions a younger Crane could have asked him, Julian wasn't expecting that. He half-wondered if Harley had put him up to it. She seemed awfully concerned with the state or lack of his footwear.

He glances down at his own toes. "Because I don't want to." Julian pauses, looking back up to Jonathan. "With the seasons come changes. Snow. Mud. Hot pavement. Brittle leaves."

"Oh." Jonathan's eyes blink in confusion. He hasn't made the connection between fear, control and power at this age; doesn't react like he should. Though his eyes sharpen and focus, and that means he's looking at Julian like he's something fascinating.

He wrinkles his nose. The way this man had painted it, it sounded understandable. Except it's not quite what he's heard.

"That's quite poetic, isn't it? Harley said it's because you're a weirdo, though."

Julian's tone drops a few degrees. "Harley doesn't have room to talk. She worked with the Joker."

Which is what she said she did, anyway. And that isn't an indicator of normality.

He pulls at his lip, looking away from Jonathan for a moment, trying to regain his calm. "You don't remember who that is, do you? You've forgotten everything. Again."

He doesn't quite manage it.

Edited 2016-04-11 03:12 (UTC)

And that blank look in Jonathan's eyes when Julian speaks of the Joker answers his question. He doesn't know any of these people. It isn't a fair situation to be in; knowing none of these people when they know everything about him.

He shuffles in his chair and stuffs his hands into his pockets. It isn't fair; and it isn't nice to have a puzzle he's incapable of solving because of something as inplausable as time travel. He should probably try doing something to keep this man happy in the meantime.

"You've got a lot of calendars."

He's never possessed any. His eyes fall onto one on the table. Even at this age, he can pick out signs.

lefty make sure that we eat

April 1st, Washington DC

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BAM, sometime post April 1st, keeping this vague

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April 2nd? Nonah at Calendar Man's place I guess?

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