"No, it was a- there is a video store in town. But you may need to ask him about the title and what the packaging might look like. I do believe it had this... spiral mark on the box." Doc wasn't marked, himself, so he can't show it to Five. He wouldn't have even known that the mark is already gone.
"I appreciate the thought, but. Next time I guess you oughta just drink it on my behalf," Doc sighs about the whiskey. Raylan had thought to bring him some too. At this point he's not even worried that he's giving off dependent, alcoholic vibes. They have too many other things on their plate.
The commission and all the rest of it is all very interesting talk. Clearly not something that Doc has ever seen or experienced. It makes sense that he would look for a briefcase; evidence of some sort of timeline interference, and definitely more important than a bag of clothes or trinkets that Doc was thinking of.
"Well I'm still alive so clearly someone took their eyes off the ball," Doc jokes, not realising what being one of those agents entail. "The way I see it, they are either like me, attained eternal longevity through some unnatural means, or like yourself, able to move through the years in a matter of seconds. Maybe they do have a sophisticated briefcase, or some other object that can help them traverse through the ages. But we have to bear in mind that none of the clocks in this whole damn town can agree on what time it is. Hell, hardly any of us can agree on what year it was before we came here. The years could simply be numbers and the whole concept of time... might not be so linear here as the way I conceive of it."
Doc knows he's in well over his head. It doesn't bother him as much as it probably should. He knows he's more of a doer than a theoriser. But in this particular instance, there isn't much he can do. Arguably there isn't much he can do when it comes to anything in Mathias. He's just been trucking along quite happily probably spinning his wheels. But hey, since they're throwing out anything that might stick, he doesn't mind playing at that game for a little bit.
"They must have had some way of agreeing on when to conduct their business, something regular, not dependent on the clocks or the crazy weather. You'd never know when the shops are open or closed or when it was time to send your children to school otherwise. Maybe we need to start there?"
no subject
"I appreciate the thought, but. Next time I guess you oughta just drink it on my behalf," Doc sighs about the whiskey. Raylan had thought to bring him some too. At this point he's not even worried that he's giving off dependent, alcoholic vibes. They have too many other things on their plate.
The commission and all the rest of it is all very interesting talk. Clearly not something that Doc has ever seen or experienced. It makes sense that he would look for a briefcase; evidence of some sort of timeline interference, and definitely more important than a bag of clothes or trinkets that Doc was thinking of.
"Well I'm still alive so clearly someone took their eyes off the ball," Doc jokes, not realising what being one of those agents entail. "The way I see it, they are either like me, attained eternal longevity through some unnatural means, or like yourself, able to move through the years in a matter of seconds. Maybe they do have a sophisticated briefcase, or some other object that can help them traverse through the ages. But we have to bear in mind that none of the clocks in this whole damn town can agree on what time it is. Hell, hardly any of us can agree on what year it was before we came here. The years could simply be numbers and the whole concept of time... might not be so linear here as the way I conceive of it."
Doc knows he's in well over his head. It doesn't bother him as much as it probably should. He knows he's more of a doer than a theoriser. But in this particular instance, there isn't much he can do. Arguably there isn't much he can do when it comes to anything in Mathias. He's just been trucking along quite happily probably spinning his wheels. But hey, since they're throwing out anything that might stick, he doesn't mind playing at that game for a little bit.
"They must have had some way of agreeing on when to conduct their business, something regular, not dependent on the clocks or the crazy weather. You'd never know when the shops are open or closed or when it was time to send your children to school otherwise. Maybe we need to start there?"