I have been working.

I have been dreaming, also, off and on, and perhaps this means I have slept. Sometimes I find myself in my laboratory with my coffee mug poised halfway to my lips, and I cannot recall having gone upstairs to make coffee.

But this is normal.

What is not normal is that I find drafts of things, of designs, of schematics, scattered about my work table, though I never commit my plans to paper. And I do not recognize these plans.

If I am truly losing control of my faculties, what then? What indeed. There is nothing for it. I must simply work harder, faster. I must finish what I have begun, while I am still capable of completing anything at all.

The world needs this. Even if it no longer needs me.

Dear Luka Filipov,

I'm afraid I have grown rather lax in my correspondences with you, and I attribute my long silence to a distinct lack of sufficiently interesting subjects. However, today has yielded a few events worthy of note:

I tried to die today.
Were I to pass on in this world, would I return to my own New York, to you and

I cannot

Firstly, I have constructed a prototype peace beam with tripod in miniature scale. It is identical in structure to the original (you remember the one--Mrs. Filipov clipped the newspaper article with the photographic of its grand reveal, with Sam grandstanding as only he can behind the podium before it), though the tripod has a fixed base as opposed to the original's automatonic one. I have made the necessary adjustments and included a new feature: motion sensitivity activated by wireless remote control. The mice and cockroaches that have invaded my laboratory space have been bearing the brunt of my endeavors all morning.

Secondly, I have met another member of this world's local scientific community: one Dr. Emmett Brown, with whom I communicated some months previous. He claims to be able to control the weather to a certain degree, which I must admit has evoked in me an intense envy. What advances in agricultural technology I could engineer, had I such gifts! The man himself appears severely limited by certain failings of human(? he is at least partially automatonic) nature, which is disappointing though hardly without precedent, but as he also asserts that he has made some achievements in the field of time travel, surely he must possess some intellectual capacity of merit.

Thirdly, I may find myself in need of another laboratory assistant. It seems I have overstepped my bounds again and behaved in poor taste toward the one I hired some weeks past. I do not claim to understand the intricacies of this conflict, but they seem grave. It is my hope to persuade the assistant in question to remain in my employment, but as I am notably inept in these matters (I hardly need remind you of this!), I am less than optimistic, as I am regarding the prospect of finding an equally capable replacement. I had hoped at least to have made some headway in certain projects before driving away yet another assistant.

But I will stop boring you. I write mainly to assure you that I indeed live and work still, and that you are never far from my thoughts, though I find lately that I grow tired, and feel your absence more keenly than ever. Give my regards to Katharine and the children, and to Mark should you have occasion to see him.


Fondly,
Nik


P.S.: Should these letters ever reach you, please


[ OOC : the day described in this letter was about three weeks ago from today, here ]

Keeping track of Nik's threads, because I'm anal that way.


Intro post! Nik is ushered to the Main Gauche by the Rani

A brief encounter with the Doctor

Conversation with Elashte, in which Nik finds a demon!patron

Nik meets Aubrey, his brand-new lab assistant, and plots Genocide for World Peace

Nik crashes the Aubrey/Doc reunion and breaks Aubrey a li'l more with impromptu Riftpower experimentation

My crossing over into this new America appears not to have passed without more personal changes. It seems that I have developed overnight, and without my noticing, a new mental power. I can see, on occasion, patterns in the air that consist of sourceless light and color, both of which are invisible to others, and what's more, with a little concentration, I can alter what I see. Each pattern induces in living creatures a different reaction; I have explored this on a mouse, a flock of birds, a couple rabbits, some chipmunks, a grey squirrel, and on my assistant, Aubrey Ringland.

The source of these patterns may have forever remained a mystery to me had it not been for the lesser devices that I have constructed in my laboratory--namely, the miniature oscillator I replicated from the much grander one that Sam so enjoyed in my laboratory at home. When operating, it emitted the same colors and lights that I had earlier seen. I have since concluded that what I perceive as visual input has some connection to the concussive acoustic waves that resulted from the eruption of Krakatoa some ten or so years earlier.

It is likely that I am now able to manipulate infrasound.

The teleportation device has deposited me in Chicago, but over a century into the future. I will have to reconfigure the machine to take into account the potential gross temporal distortion. My return may prove difficult.

I have since taken up residence in a complex called the Main Gauche, and I am adequately provided for. The proprietor has agreed to sponsor my projects. He is a visionary, and a demonic entity. I am less disturbed by the latter than one might think, given my past experiences. This time has a great deal to teach me.

Technology has advanced by leaps and bounds! I have found in my private quarters a cubical device (powered by electricity) that, when powered on, displays on one side an array of moving pictures. It appears to serve as the receiver for remote newscasting. Some segments have proven most troubling: we appear to have achieved contact with intelligent life forms from outer space; very often they appear much like us with divergent facial features and unique coloring. Spacemen are all around us. Spacemen are proficient in English.

Dear Mr. Malek,

Mr. Elashte has referred me to your services. I would appreciate it greatly if you could provide transportation for an Aubrey Ringland and his vehicle from the Conrad Hotel to the Main Gauche as soon as circumstance permits.


Nikola Tesla, G.I.

Laboratory assistant. Must be dexterous, fair education, good penmanship, excellent memory. $5 weekly to start.

Posting this here 'cause I know there are a number of folks on this journal's flist who are fans of histori-Tesla: I was annoyed by the fact that there are no (active, English-language) LJ communities about me main man Nik, so I went and made one m'self: loveoflightning

...there aren't any Doc Holliday communities, either. e_e Argh! No. Enough of this obsessive madness.

Aaand that's all I've got.
Sorry if this sorta thing is Not Permitted. I can delete this entry if need be. :)

My dearest Luka and Mrs. Filipov,

I hope this letter finds you well. I hope this letter finds you.

Circumstances have forced me to
I made an error in
I have strayed far from my intended path, but this is an exciting time for me. Imagine a gleaming city that rises to dizzying heights, roads as smooth as glass, and people of more races and creeds mingling together than we saw in all of our travels combined. Mrs. Filipov, you will be astonished to hear that it is common to see the women of this region wearing trousers--some have their hair cropped as short as men's! Such it is where I find myself; I face new marvels at every turn. I wish more than anything that the two of you could experience the wonders of this world alongside me.

However, I fear that
We may never be able to

They tell me I cannot return.

Wait for me, and tell the children that when next I see them I will have stories that will make the breaths catch in their throats!


Fondly,
Nik

The man himself was born on this day 152 years ago! (I've written a long-ass, slightly embittered entry on him in my personal journal, if anyone needs something on which to waste intarwebz tiems is interested.)

Man, this two hours of sleep thing? Not for mere mortals like meself. The folks I saw to get tested for ADD (I don't have it) brought to my attention that my sleep schedule's been wonky for almost three years now. Not even three full years of sleep deprivation (and even so, factor in term breaks and weekends during which I could sleeeeep), and my already poor memory was shot, my attention span had dwindled to a mayfly's, and my intellectual faculties were taking a terrible beating.

This guy. Pulled this shit. For DECADES.

How did you dooo it, Niko, you mad, brilliant, ridiculous, beautiful man?! Howww?

Semi-coherent ravings aside, happy birthday, dude. Sorry your whiskey remedy didn't take, 'else you might still be 'round. Cheers!

a discount price for all your good deeds – Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! Nik needs him some masochists bright, energetic folks to fill in secretarial and assistant-y positions. He is an eccentric, demanding, occasionally unreasonable master with no patience or respect for personal limitations or sleep schedules. He needs competent people who can take orders, handle paperwork, and fetch 'n' carry at a moment's notice - he may even expect you to know what he needs before he voices it. He is an exceedingly generous tipper, but considering he is presently penniless... Well. Huge success! Nikola now has a sponsor! [ thecellsiam Two openings One secretarial opening, possibilities for more. ]

so worried I've lost my connection – Nik likes to have a small circle of friends with whom he can have intelligent conversations about things other than Science(!). He is particularly fascinated by writers and public performers, though he is appreciative of any breath of humanity that enters his life - in moderation. [ Multiple openings. ]

a desperate need for more distraction – When especially involved in a shiny new project, Tesla tends to go for days without sleep or sustenance. It would be grand if someone could occasionally pop in to coerce remind him to indulge in these bothersome lifey things. A sense of humor is a plus; Mark Twain was the only person who could make him laugh in his own world, and Nik sorely misses that ability - though as for the Serb himself, when asked if Tesla were joking, Edison once commented, "Tesla? No. He doesn't know how." Part close friend, part caretaker, this is someone Nik trusts enough to give a second set of keys to his home and lab. [ thecellsiam ]

can't find any other way to feel – While Nik does not engage in sexual relationships and is apallingly oblivious to romantic advances, he redirects those energies toward idealizing an admirable individual and setting hir up in his mind as a paragon worthy of any pedestal. [ One opening for an exceptional person of any gender, possibilities for more. ]

thoughts run in circles and set the day – Though he prefers to work alone, Nik finds it useful now and again to bounce his ideas off of like-minded (read, nerdilicious) folks, and perhaps collaborate with them on supersecretawesomeplanz for the advancement of society with Science(!). Particularly since he's a century behind the times, and because he's had to admit to himself the importance of making connections in the scientific community, he's looking to network. Just keep in mind that the mun is a liberal arts major who hasn't taken a math or science course in four years ;P [ war_rani, clockwork_doc Multiple openings. ]

my wires are crossed again – Tesla is just on this side of stable. It might be interesting to see what happens if someone were to prod him toward the other side. ;)~ [ Multiple openings; he's especially leery of demons at the mo'. ]

useless agendas make a useless breed – Scoundrels. Cads. Charlatans. And possibly rivals. The Edisons and Morgans of this world. People who just rub Nik the wrong damn way, and vice versa. [ Multiple openings. ]

my soul my mind is held magnetically – Tesla is drawn to the esoteric and unconventional in terms of spirituality. Raised in a Serbian Orthodox family, he retains his faith in a higher power, though his religious views have undergone some changes since his childhood under the roof of a reverend father. This is also an arena in which he is ripe for guidance or manipulation, as Nik can prove to be susceptible to influence by folks who can offer adequate evidence of spiritual guru-tude. [ One or two openings. ]

[ OOC: See Nik. See Nik write a telegram. Write, Nik, write. See Nik ignore locking option! Ignore, Nik, ignore. See Nik tell himself that he is simply jotting this down until he can find a post office, though he secretly hopes that this very message will somehow, magically, reach Sam Clemens. Hope, Nik, hope. ]


MY DEAR FRIEND MARK stop WAS FORCED BY CIRCUMSTANCE TO EXPEDITE TESTING OF TELEPORTATION DEVICE stop A PARTIAL SUCCESS stop I WRITE YOU FROM AN ALTERNATE & TECHNOLOGICALLY ADVANCED CHICAGO stop NO EASILY FORESEEABLE ROUTE BACK stop ENCOURAGE MR. WESTINGHOUSE TO PROCEED WITH NEGOTIATIONS stop YOURS, TESLA

So the Tesla I'm playing is the one written/drawn by Messrs Fraction and Sanders in The Five Fists of Science, who seems to be shorter than the real Nikola Tesla was and more inclined toward firing bursts of electricity at the baddies. This Tesla has also been exposed to the wacky world of demons and dark magic, and thus is less likely to be skeptical of the existence of all things preternatural. FFS seems to have taken place at the end of the 19th century, but Fraction & Sanders admitted to having taken liberties with chronology and facts, and so shall I. :P Also, as FFS consisted of a single volume, I'll be filling in the gaps of Tesla's character with details of his real-life counterpart.

I'm undecided as to whether or not I'll be keeping the incident of his implied sexual liaison in the timeline of FFS, as the real Tesla allegedly remained celibate his entire life and I find this idea more interesting. Hrm.

Occasionally he will draft letters addressed to "Sam" and "Mark," which are used interchangeably--this is indeed Samuel Clemens, more commonly known as Mark Twain.