museums | (no subject)

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Chris is already second-guessing his agreement to work as a temporary night guard here at the museum. Mr. Daley's offer to help him get the job had seemed pretty cool at the time but his lecture on Ancient Egyptians being the original badass inventors had seemed pretty cool at the time, too, and like something Chris might want to study.

But now that it's ten o'clock, he's trapped here until six in the morning, and he's just meandering around with a Starbucks in one hand and a package of M&M's in the other, it's starting to feel less and less like a cool idea and more like a stupid one. Like, he knew Mr. Daley used to work here so maybe felt obligated to find some chump to fill this position while the museum tried to find someone permanent or something, and that chump was Chris — the only idiot in class to show some enthusiasm.

Whatever. He can just quit tomorrow.

He decides to get looking over the Egypt exhibit out of the way promptly and heads over there pretty much as soon as the doors are locked. It's not like there's anything here he can decipher on his own; he would've been better off just taking the day tour. There's a golden tablet and a sarcophagus but nothing super out-of-the-ordinary, nothing that tells Chris anything about Egypt's ingenuity. He reads the plaques but they just go on about the usual stuff, the Pyramids and grave-robbing and blah blah blah.

"Oh my God," he groans. "This is so boring."

(Little does he know if he happened to leave this exhibit and head elsewhere, he'd be able to talk to Roosevelt and tiny cowboys and dinosaurs and a really obnoxious Easter Island head.)

He turns back to study the sarcophagus. It's not under glass which seems weird to him. Like, ropes aren't gonna stop people from touching it.

...Maybe he should touch it! He leans over the ropes to look closely at its face. Did the dude inside really look like this? Is the dude actually in there? It's kinda creepy to think he's could be staring face-to-face with a dead guy, mummy or not.

Maybe touching it's a bad idea, actually. He remembers stories of people dying after messing with Egyptian artifacts.

So, yeah, no touching. Just inspecting.

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"Well, Chris, Major of the NYU, you are most welcome here. I fear you have undertaken a far greater task than you first realise, but I know that Larry wouldn't have sent you to us, were you not equal to it."

Coming back around from behind his Sarcophagus, Ahkmenrah holds out his tablet, to show it to Chris, "This is the greatest invention my people ever conceived, a tablet forged by our wisest priests. It is the power of this tablet that brings everything in this museum to life each night." He gives Chris a serious look, "It is this tablet and I that you are the guardian of now. If we remain protected, so too does the whole museum."

At first, Chris just plans on correcting Ahkmenrah on the fact that he's not the Major of NYU, whatever that is, but then the rest of what he said sinks in and Chris is right back to feeling confused.

"Wait a minute. Are you saying I'm your body guard now?" He could make a joke about how yes he knows he's the obvious choice because he's so macho, and a part of him wants to, but instead he gives a divisive snort. "I couldn't fight my way out of a paper bag, much less protect anything."

Kind of a lie, since he did a pretty good job running from and fending off wendigos but that's beside the point. He didn't sign on for this. He doesn't have time to look after some guy and a hunk of gold -- a hunk of gold that's light enough to carry around as if it's weightless.

It's a prop. Obviously. (As if the "everything in the museum comes to life" thing wasn't clear enough.)

"Oh, wait. I'm supposed to play along, right? Sorry, man. Sure, I'll be your body guard."

This is the dumbest thing a teacher has ever made him do.

"Thank you. I'm sure I will be most appreciative of your service." Ahkmenrah politely resists the urge to point out that technically, Chris has already taken the job, "As your first duty, would you be kind enough to guard the door while I change into my proper attire?"

He tugs loose the first of the bandages that he's wrapped with, and yep he's just going to start undressing, "I hope you don't think it vain of me. During the day, I need the linen to keep my body properly preserved, but during the night..." He pauses to struggle out of another linen loop, baring a strip of tan skin across his stomach, "...well, it's not really befitting to run around mummified all night."

He tugs off another bundle of bandages, freeing his shoulders and chest, before glancing back up to Chris, "Once I'm dressed, I'll come with you on your patrol. Your first time'll go a little easier with me there."

"Ooookay..."

This is quickly going from weird prank to weird class project to just plain weird. Chris can't help but stare a little as Ahkmenrah begins to unwrap himself but it's not as salacious as the fanart would have you believe -- he'd actually thought the linens were one of those stupid mummy costumes that only looks like real wrappings and now that he sees he was wrong, he's a bit perplexed. It just seems like an awful lot of detail to go through for...whatever this is.

He doesn't want to be seen as the weird one here though when he most definitely isn't, so he does as told and goes to guard the doorway. He can't see anything out of the ordinary from where he's standing but he can hear things. Mainly voiceish things, animalish things, and lots of commotion in general. What Ahkmenrah had said about the exhibits coming to life couldn't possibly be true, but that's exactly what it sounds like out there.

"Um," he says just as something that sounds an awful lot like a lion's roar echoes through the corridor, "I-I think something's going on. We should probably check it out, man."

For Ahkmenrah, the sounds of the museum waking up around him is as familiar as the dawn chorus. By the time Chris addresses him again, he's worked himself completely loose of the bandages, and has climbed into one of the nearby display stands to retrieve his robes.

"That's just the sound of the museum waking up," he offers, voice weaving out from the back of the display case, "Don't worry, it happens every night..."

Having shuffled into his robes and jewelry, he emerges from the display, with his crown tucked under one arm, and a brass Egyptian mirror clutched in his hand. Outside, there is the distant trumpeting of what sounds, to Ahkmenrah, like a wooly mammoth, but again, this is perfectly normal. He goes to tap Chris on the shoulder, and pushes the mirror towards him, "Hold this for me? I need to paint my face, and they," A nod to the Jackal guards, "Always hold it too high for me."

This is not strictly the duty of a night guard, but if Chris is going to wait for him anyway, then he might as well...

Bemused, Chris takes the mirror without protest but he's too torn between staring at Ahkmenrah's elaborate ensemble and listening to the bustle out in the corridors to do a very good job holding it. He's probably holding it too low, in fact, and slightly skewed at an awkward angle.

"Uh," he says, and for a moment that's all he can manage.

Somewhere out there a monkey screeches, and Chris is almost sure he hears the clip-clop of a horse's hooves against marble flooring.

"Am I, like — am I gonna be in trouble if this place gets trashed?" he asks, although he knows the answer is yes. Of course he will. This is a museum — if things are broken, he'll probably have to spend the rest of his life paying for them.

Ahkmenrah does not sigh. Because he is very patient. He does however, reach out to adjust how Chris is holding the mirror, pushing his arms up slightly, and angling his hands so that he can see himself clearly in it. There. Now he can start putting on kohl.

"The museum will be fine. They're perfectly capable of cleaning up after themselves."

Mostly. Ahkmenrah retrieves a small pouch of ancient cosmetics from one of his pockets, and... yeah, just going to... y'know, start putting his face on.

"I can call back anyone who gets out, you're highest responsibility is to prevent anyone from the outside getting in."

"Gets out?" Chris echoes.

Okay. Say he did buy into the whole "everything in the museum comes to life" thing, the possibility that any of these exhibits could actually escape wouldn't have occurred to him. The doors are locked!! The windows are shut!! Wax figures can't open stuff like that!!

But even if they could...

"Wait. How far can you get from the tablet before it stops working? I mean it can't go on forever or else every exhibit in every museum would come to life every night. It has to be like a- like a router or something," he says. "If something got out wouldn't it just... you know, turn back?"

"The magic will work until sunrise, no matter where those effected by it go." Ahkmenrah informs Chris, as he finishes applying his eye liner. This done, he straightens up, carefully places his crown on his head, and then reaches to take back the tablet and the mirror.

"But if they are outside of the Museum's walls, when the first rays of dawn reach them, then the magic will fail..." He meets Chris's gaze, steady and serious, "...and they will turn to dust. That's why it's so important for you to guard the tablet. Because it's the only way we can be absolutely sure that anyone who does get out will come back."

This said, he smiles. Warm and reassuring, "Shall we go, Major of NYU?"

"That sucks," is all Chris can think to say of the exhibits turning to dust. He's still bewildered, yet not quite enough to avoid — a bit testily — adding, "Look, there's no Major of NYU. That's just not a real thing. Computer science is my major, which means it's what I study."

Ahkmenrah's smile is so genuine, though, and he seems like a nice guy despite whatever the hell is going on here, so Chris immediately feels a bit guilty for his outburst. He sighs. "Never mind, forget it. Yeah, let's go."

Edited 2016-02-10 19:15 (UTC)

Ahkmenrah nods placidly, as Chris tries to shake off his title, but he's made up his mind. He has to call you something, and Guardian of Brooklyn is taken. "You study computers? that's fascinating. I would have thought they were too new to formally educate people about..."

Eighty years ago, Cambridge University was big on teaching things that had at least a few hundred years of history behind them. Ahkmenrah starts out into the corridor, his attention still fully on Chris, despite the small swarm of primitively carved figurines that are scampering past them, and the gentle hoof beats of antelope departing behind them.

"There's a computer in the lobby, but I don't really have cause to use it. The Romans like it a lot." In other words, The Romans completely hog it, and only let Ahkmenrah go on it when they want to show him how to set up an account on some new website that he then never gets to visit, "And the last night guard had a Samsung?"

He'd not been great with the Samsung either.

"Well, they're not really that new," Chris protests without much ferocity. "If you guys are museum displays, what do you even use computers for? Wait —" He lifts a hand. "Forget it. I probably don't want to know."

He rummages in his pocket and pulls out his own phone, which fortunately hadn't been ruined when he'd spilled coffee all over himself. It's the benefit of having a good, sturdy, waterproof case, which he would happily explain to anyone should they ask.

"Here, look," he says. "I have a Samsung too! Pretty cool, huh? Maybe it's a requirement for night guards. Except... Mr. Daly seems more like a Nokia kind of guy. Anyway, do you know how to use the computer in the lobby? Maybe I could teach you."

And just like that, Ahkmenrah had discovered the key to unlocking Chris's friendliness and getting his skepticism to subside, at least for a little while.

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