The Doctor? Doctor Who?

[DeathQuaker]

I don't know. I think it's extremely suspicious they would be giving these toys away for 1940s currency; if they have such great technology, why do they want antique Earth money? Is anyone good with technology? I think we should take a much closer look at this toy.

"Good point. I guess I was thinking someone local had found the technology and reverse engineered it to make a profit. That of course could not be the case.

As for technology, Sam showed an interest in the little 'bot, and we have our Doctor here with his magic wand. What do you two think?"

[Glawackus]

"I can poke around," Sam says, rolling the little effigy around in his palm. "The Doctor probably can as well, although I imagine even his little gadget has limitations."

Sam takes out his multitool from his bag, different parts flipping open and closed like someone doing tricks with a cigarette lighter. "The Doctor has first refusal, of course."

[alchemyprime]

The Doctor begins to think about it while they're walking along. "You take a gander at it first, Sam. If you see technology a bit... closer to home, then we may just be dealing with reverse engineering. If not, it may be someone gave this "Mr. Tinker" the schematics."

Martha stops in front of the door first. A tennament manager answers the door.
"What'dya want? A little far from the Bronx, ain't ya?" The man says, obviously toward Martha.

"We're looking for a man named Zack."

"Let me get him." The man goes inside and rings up a phone. "Zack? You got some guests. Three women and two men. Yeah. Okay." The man returns to the door. "Be glad Zack's a kind man. Go on up."

(Naturally assuming everyone goes up to Zack's flat)

A man opens the door to the flat. He seems like a normal twenty year old man with mutton chops, for some odd reason. He smiles at everyone. "So, are you here for a robot lecture, or for some coffee? I have both."

He's holding a notebook. On the page, in big print, it says "Robbie".

Spot check to see the smaller print

Zack goes in, as do the Doctor and Martha.

[DeathQuaker]

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Spot check: (1d20+8)[24]

Alchemyprime, let us know if you want these made in another thread

[Glawackus]

"Right," Sam says, clearing his throat. He flicks open a small screwdriver from his multitool and begins nudging at the robot's back.

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Not really sure what sort of check this is. I think it's Knowledge (tech). (1d20+10)[20]

[Glawackus]

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Spot check: (1d20)[2]
Sorry for putting this in the last post, I somehow missed the, you know, bold text.

[alchemyprime]

(Nah, that's fine.)

Wendy sees that on the page it says
1. A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
2. A robot must obey orders given to it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

should there be a fourt-

Robbi-...-ute."

"Wow," says Zack, "How many people find calling me Isaac to be difficult amazes me. So, what can I do for you?"

(The tech: there are definitely a few microprosseors in this toy. ANd no vacuum tubes.)

[Glawackus]

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Asimov! *fanboy cry of joy*

"Hmm? What?" Sam asks, looking up from the innards of the toy just in time to miss the notebook.

He shrugs, leaning against the doorpost as the Doctor and Martha go in. A flick with the blade of his non-sonic screwdriver, and the metallic sheen of a microprocessor is visible.

"Well, look at you," Sam mutters, snapping the back of the toy shut and hurriedly following the Doctor in.

[The Neoclassic]

Well, we were referred to you by a Mr. McCallister. I don't suppose you know him? Anyway, he recommmended we come see you because we had a few questions about robots. How long have they been around? We're rather new to this area and quite curious about them. In particular, there was a toy store called Mr. Tinker's that caught our eye, selling toys that resembled puppies.

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Diplomacy
(1d20)[4] + 8
(If needed)

[alchemyprime]

"Moe. Moe Johannson, also known as 'Mr. Tinkers'. Bastard cousin of one of us four. My friend, Alphonse Abrum. His family is... odd, to say the least."

Isaac looked at the sonic screwdriver. He then looks to the Doctor. "Oh. You're like The Mechanic. Nice fellow. It was me, The Mechanic, Ivan McCallister and Alphone. We called ourselves the visionaries. The Mechanic told us that by the result of the actions of myself, Ivan and Alphonse, the entire world would change. And so, I began again to think of the robots, like when I was a boy. I recently published a story called "Robbie." I was looking over my notes from it for my next project."

"Then Moe came in. He is producing things that even the Mechanic couldn't. But, alas, after we landed in 1943, Ivan went off to Germany, Alphonse to the Pacfic and the Mechanic was sent off to fight in a war back on Gallifrey. That was the last I saw of them. Ivan and Alphonse stayed in 1943, and I opted to go back to 1940, to cover for them, saying they have been in Panama, doing maintanance on the canal. So, is the Time War against those blasted Daleks over? You're a Time Lord, so you must have won!"

The Doctor looked down. "The Time Lords and the Daleks lost. A few Daleks escpaed into the 51st century. I stopped those. But there are only two Time Lords left. Myself and the Master."

Isaac looked to his feet. "I see. Well, I know that Moe is up to something! So I'm here to help! I doubt that my rules are in place in his robots. So I will help you, um..."

"The Doctor. These four are Martha, Sam, Sydney and Wendy. With you, we have six for now."

"Alright. Let us go then. Unless anyone wants to have some coffee first? Maybe some tea, or a biscuit?"

[DeathQuaker]

Wendy's eyebrow's twitch as she takes in the words on the notebook and the name "Isaac." She says, nothing, however.

She takes in what the Doctor says about the Time War and the Daleks, looking an odd mix of puzzled and sympathetic, but knows now is not the time to discuss it. She looks queryingly at Martha to see how she reacts to the Doctor's story, in order to glean if Martha has heard it before.

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Sense motive: (1d20+8)[19]

When Isaac offers refreshment, Wendy smiles. "Honestly, I'm dying for a cuppa, but I imagine we haven't much time."

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OOC: FYI - this'll be my last post for a few days. Have a good weekend.

[The Neoclassic]

I'm ready to go if everyone else is. While she does rather want a cup of tea, Sydney has no intention of holding everyone else up. Do you have any idea what might be Moe's motivation for selling these robots?

[Glawackus]

Sam would kill for a cup of coffee, but dismisses it out of hand--what's the point if it's not going to be black-as-sin, overcaffeinated dishwater the way he likes it?
"Probably just trying to make a living," Sam says, dropping the little robot and his multitool into a pocket surrepititously. He shakes Zack's hand. "Nice meeting you, sir."

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Man, I just met Isaac Asimov and I don't even know it!

[alchemyprime]

(Hehehe... Sam doesn't know who Zack is!)

Martha has obviously heard this story before, but she still seems saddened by it.

Isaac looks down. "Well then. The coffee's already brewed, but since we should go there... but Moe will recognize me. Hm... quite a predicament. Are there others you could contact?"

The Doctor thinks, as does Martha. Martha gets the idea first. "Hey, I have it! Sam, call Jack, and I'll call Jon. Maybe they can pull up some information on Moe Johannson!"

Martha begins to dial Jon's number. "Jon? It's Martha. Yeah, what do you know about a Moe Johannson, circa 1940? Uh-huh. Yes... a what? A what? But aren't you one of them? No, I don't know the difference! Well, what can he do? Well that's helpful! Great, thanks alot Jon!"

Martha hangs up. "Sam, if you can, access the Torchwood database. I need you to look up-" she's cut off by Isaac.

"Molan. Moe is a Molan. Look that up for us, please."

(If Sam has research, now's the time to use it with your PDA. If not, figure out who in Torchwood would know about Molans.)

[Glawackus]

"Good thing I'm still on the grid," Sam says, taking out his PDA but holding it under his coat so as to not attract attention. He smiles for a moment at the absurdity of everything. "It'll be interesting to see how the Tor...the computer handles a login from 1940, though."
"Molan...emm..oh..ell..ay..enn..." he says under his breath, fingers flying over the little keys.

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Research: (1d20+7)[19]

[alchemyprime]

From the Torchwood Database:
Molans
Human-Elan Hybrids
Unlike Elans, with a full hyper-evolution (Devolution?-Owen), Molans have a scrambled genetic code. Rejuvinations act improperly. Once hitting puberty (gaining first rejuvination for Elans), Molans have their DNA scrambled, causing unforseen genetic mutations. Some become like Elans, rejuvinating faster or slower (Elans rejuvinate every 60 years). Some become like humans, never rejuvinatiing again.
An unlucky 37% become something else. Mutations vary.
Experinced mutations:
Ability to shoot sodium hydroxide from saliva glands
four extra sets of arms, each one different from the human arms. (Creepy- Ianto)
Wings
Ability to freeze liquids with a touch
Venomous bite
Phermomones (I ran into this one. Not fun. - Jack)

For Elan-Alien hybrids, see Sub-Molan.

[Glawackus]

"They're an offshoot of the Elan...Jonathan's people, and us," Sam says, raising his eyebrows at the Hub team's comments. "Some of them are like Elan, some of them are like humans, and some of them are...something else entirely. Mix and match genetics. I've got the whole file here."

[The Neoclassic]

"So, is Moe more human or more Elan? And what difference does it make exactly? Are Elan dangerous?"

[alchemyprime]

"Alphonse was Elan. Not to dangerous. They regenerate about every 60 years or so, much like when the Mechanic would when he was about to die. They could live forever, barring violence. Psychically powerful. Elans can mate or rearrange genetic code to make more Elans. But Moe is... the Problemed. That small margin of Molan with odd bits left in." Isaac sighed. "I am sorry to drag you into this."

[Glawackus]

"Yeah. Don't worry about it. This is how I earn the big bucks. Or quid, or whatever they call 'em."

[alchemyprime]

(temp hiatus. Until more than me and HRG post.)

[The Neoclassic]

"I'm sorry to be so naive in comparison with you all, but what exactly do you mean by 'the Problemed'? What sort of "odd bits" have been left in, and does that mean that Moe may be dangerous even if most Elans aren't?"

[Glawackus]

"Mutations in the genetic code," Sam says, leaning over with his PDA. "Extra limbs...acidic saliva...wings...Jack says he found one with some kind of pheronome control, which doesn't really surprise me at all." Sam arches an eyebrow. "There's nothing here about them being necessarily dangerous, but that doesn't mean they're not." He looks expectantly at Zack.

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Back. Turns out that trip was a lot shorter than I thought it'd be.

[The Neoclassic]

"If he has wings and extra limbs, wouldn't people notice? I know some alien cloaking technology is fairly advanced, but I only know of its applications for small-scale operations or ships, not actually turning a part of one person (or alien, I suppose) invisible to the senses."

[Glawackus]

"I think it's more of a mix and match type of deal--not all of them have obvious mutations. The Doctor here, for example, looks perfectly normal, unless he's got an extra foot or hand or something."

[The Neoclassic]

Surprised, Sydney looks at the Doctor, as though expecting him to suddenly sprout another head or such. She catches herself and blushes, realizing how silly her reaction must seem to the others.

"Oh, OK. Thanks for the information, and I am sorry I'm not so up to date on all this. I had no idea this job would be so far from my usual line of work." She attempts a weak smile.

[alchemyprime]

"It's alright, we don't blame you. And my extra hand is in a jar, thank you." The Doctor stands up. "So, how is Moe problemed?"
Isaac sighs. "He absorbs metal. Useful against the Cybermen from Earth's twin. But he went mad. We were forced to abandon Moe in 1932 in Belgium. He came back from Britain 2 months ago. Opened shop. Egged my windows once. We need a sample of his technology so the Doctor or another can analize it, reprogram it."

The Doctor looks to Sam. "You can modify that Tin Friend, right?"

[DeathQuaker]

Wendy's been listening intently, trying not to smell the coffee in the other room. Which is not tea, but still inviting.


"Absorb metal? What do you mean, 'absorb'? Does he consume it, as sustenance? Through his mouth, or his flesh? Is it any metallic element, or just certain ones? Is it pure metal or alloys? What would happen if he 'absorbed' an impure alloy?"

Wendy tries to think of anything she's heard about regarding similar abilities, or what that might indicate about the person's physiology (also taking into account any useful information she receives in Isaac's response).

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Knowledge: Earth and Life Sciences: (1d20+8)[18]

[Glawackus]

"It's alright, we don't blame you. And my extra hand is in a jar, thank you." The Doctor stands up. "So, how is Moe problemed?"
Isaac sighs. "He absorbs metal. Useful against the Cybermen from Earth's twin. But he went mad. We were forced to abandon Moe in 1932 in Belgium. He came back from Britain 2 months ago. Opened shop. Egged my windows once. We need a sample of his technology so the Doctor or another can analize it, reprogram it."

The Doctor looks to Sam. "You can modify that Tin Friend, right?"

"I was always wondering why the Captain kept that thing around," Sam says, digging in his pocket for the multitool. "Sure I can. Is there anything special I should try and do with it?"

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Not going to make any checks because Sam's not sure what he's going to do yet.

[The Neoclassic]

"When you say you need a sample of Moe's technology, could you be more specific? I mean, do you just want the latest model of toy dog he's been selling, or do you need the parts he manufactures them with or an actual part of him? And, as Wendy said, what do you mean by absorb per say?"