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Post by Deleted on Dec 15, 2013 2:28:46 GMT -5
//Time War, a short while after Night of the Doctor – time track ά 1.2 // // War Doctor, Berenyxiadora, Could’ve Been King, possibly Rassilon // It wasn’t as if I’d left Karn and been accepted back into the fold Time Lords with open arms upon my decision to act directly in the Time War. Certainly not. I’d been skirting the edges for for some while now, listening to the babble from the fronts, hearing battles as they came to be and slowly extinguished one by one, being replaced by newer fights, over and over. Repeating ad nauseum even as I forgot the old for the new. That was the problem with a time war, of course. The only constant was the flux. It was a world where today’s sorrows encroached upon yesterday’s triumphs and vice versa. Therefore despite the direness, I felt no -immediate pressing- rush to run back to Gallifrey after Karn, close in proximity as it might have been. I knew that I would have to go back soon enough. Still, I had to bring a bit more than a tip of my hat after years of running. I wasn’t about to become Gallifrey’s own prodigal son and there was something that I felt I needed to do to crystallize the changes that I had so recently undertaken. My new name still tasted burnt on my tongue, burnt and too new. Whereas before I was a surgeon’s scalpel only in the most desperate of situations, now I was a field medic, ready to truncate gangrenous timelines as necessary and move onto the next. Or more to the point a soldier cutting through the detritus. And there would always be more until the war ended. And it -would- end, one way or another. Orbiting the outskirts of a freshly decimated zone with my TARDIS, I left the scanners and printers to natter to themselves as I plotted a course through the Medusa sector to the Cascade. I would go, do this one thing and then see about heading to Gallifrey. No more running away, no more conscientious objections. My long range scanner bleeped at me as I was about to hit the dematerialization control. As I caught sight of a little blank pocket it had picked up, my attention was caught and firmly affixed. It was an abyss I longed to gaze into. “What is that?” I pondered aloud, hands sprawled over a control panel. There was no response beyond the comforting blips and hums of the TARDIS. Another scar in space? It wouldn’t be unheard of given the nature of the devastation in the vicinity. It was not a black hole, nor a white one. Was it a weapon? Why was it here? Restlessly, something itched in my memory. I was forgetting…had I forgot something? I began scanning the area. Something was not right, not right at all. My hand paused. No. I could not let myself get sidetracked. Those were old patterns that I had not the luxury to repeat. If this was a razed battlefield best that I move on to something where I might be of use or get on with my original plan. I had done enough hedging. With sudden ferocity, the cloister bell started to gong, ringing through my ears and mind as the TARDIS seemed to spin itself inside out, or perhaps it was just me, stretched like a taffy along with a devastating feeling of falling inward. When it was over, the TARDIS was dim but for emergency lighting and blinking alerts. Scowling, I attempted to locate just where in hell I was, if indeed I had gone anywhere at all. Another tapping began diagnostics on the shields and directional unit and then a full systems check. Was everything malfunctioning? A tweak of the sonic screwdriver revived the scanner, static rolling over the screen. Useless. Fleetingly I thought of the Time Spiral and wondered had I become ensnared in it yet again. As if to compound the issue, the astrosextant rectifier was telling me I was no-where. Well, either I’d arrived home after all or it was going to pop up on the diagnostic scan. Unless the diagnostics were out of order as well! “Old girl, do not make today the day I calculate coordinates with an abacus and have to look out the door for the weather report,” I huffed underbreath. “A wake…a time ripple or eddy, gone through at just the wrong degree.” I hoped that was the worst of it had come and gone. “Triggered a time mine or something the like,” I said to myself, attempting to reconstruct the probable causes of my misfortune. "A wavefront...yes." All guesses, every one. I was still trying to conceive of the cause as I got started patching things up. Things were bad enough without adding a worry about maintain integrity – whatever had happened, there were things to be seen to before anyone was aware of my situation. Usually it was I that responded to emergency beacons, not thought about sending them out. But not yet, things were not that far gone. I did not want to be seen as a mislaid part of the battle’s detritus, ready to be picked off by a rogue salvage scow. My earlier thoughts about cleaning things up were already haunting me. As I got down to work on the most immediately necessary systems, a few of the secondary and tertiary fell into line. The TARDIS was at default interior. And with the systems came a message waiting on me. Clambering up, I pushed a hand down on a toggle hastily. “Hello? I’m a touch busy just now,” I replied gruffly, tapping the side of the screen with the flat of my hand. // OOC – I plan on changing over to 3rd person past tense in the following sections. |
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The Could've-Been King
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"We can never know what might have been. But what is to come is another matter entirely."
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Post by The Could've-Been King on Dec 15, 2013 22:07:02 GMT -5
 “Hello? I’m a touch busy just now.”"Course yeh are," grinned the Meddler. "No surprise ta me, that news. They's a war on, so Oi 'ear." There was something odd about him. MOre so than normal, that is - because, without a temporal shadow, the Meddler looked peculiar at the best of times. But he was dressed differently. A black leather duster and a black stetson, rather than the navy peacoat and black knit stocking cap he tended to favor. And the TARDIS control room was the default austere white that they tended to assume, rather than his grey stone cathedral. "Oi'm out 'ere," he continued, "runnin' a few tests Oi am. Practical applications o' a theory 'r two Oi've been meanin' ta try oot. An', well, they's a temporal wave what happened, messed up me instruments sommat fierce. Did yeh happen to 'ave yehrself a look at what 'appened?" |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 17, 2013 1:55:52 GMT -5
A repeated swatting to the side of the screen brought squalls of static interspersed with a familiar accent. Irritated, he boosted the gain. Slowly the grainy flecks of snow and rolling lines resolved into a face he'd not expected to see this far out, if at all. He frowned at the visage in front of him as he was addressed.
"It's rather hard to miss, isn't it?" the War Doctor returned dryly. He took note of the default white of the Meddler's TARDIS and the change in his attire with a critical eye. "I can't say I expected to see you so far out, Meddler," his voice betraying a hint of his surprise and caution. It looked like they were both in the same boat without a paddle...well perhaps they even were. He hunched up a bit with a sigh, bringing his face closer to the monitor. "You don't seem very surprised to see me."
"A few tests. And nothing to do with you, I take it, this unexpected wave? Nothing to do with your 'experiments?'" he asked, watching him as carefully. Finally, he continued. "I got as much a look at it as one can when one is broadsided, which is to say not much a look at all. Not directly." He paused a moment before admitting, "Whatever it was, and whenever that wave started...not a handful of minutes before hand, there -was- something. Or rather, a nothing. A nothing at all. No readings could pierce it, none that I'd tried before it all went to hell. It was as if there was absolutely nothing there. I figured I tripped a time-minefield array with dodgy camouflage..." he trailed off. “There ought to have been -something- at the fringe, some demarcation…interactions along the border. I musnt've been looking the right way,” he chastised himself, as if unaware he was talking aloud.
As he talked, the War Doctor looked through the architectural configuration software to see if he could trim off anything and get things moving a bit faster along if need be. "I don't suppose you want to tell me where you are," he said, attention back on the Meddler. "Or what you might've been up to by any chance at all."
With a sinking feeling he realised he was tempted to ask the Meddler for assistance or at least to pool resources if indeed his TARDIS was in a similar state. Was he that desperate? Or had he simply gone completely mad? And why did the Meddler...seem just a touch...-off-? More-so than he recalled. The war must be getting to him...to all of them.
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The Could've-Been King
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"We can never know what might have been. But what is to come is another matter entirely."
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Post by The Could've-Been King on Dec 17, 2013 23:48:07 GMT -5
"A few tests. And nothing to do with you, I take it, this unexpected wave? Nothing to do with your 'experiments?'" he asked, watching him as carefully."That hurts, Doctor," the Meddler said, striking himself in the chest with a double-fisted blow. "Hurts me roit 'ere, it does." A manic grin. "Oi'd'a owned up to it, iff'n it were mine, wouldn' Oi?" Finally, he continued. "I got as much a look at it as one can when one is broadsided, which is to say not much a look at all. Not directly.""Figgers, dunnit?" the Meddler answered, leaning his elbow on the console. "Sommat innerestin' 'appens, sommat thet ain't this bleedin' War, an' Oi gets me instruments blown out Oi do." With a sigh, he took a nip from a battered silver flask. "Don' mind me none. Oi'm jes' gonna get 'ammered now, an' mebbe kick sommat. Bleedin' waves." "Whatever it was," the Doctor continued, insisting on talking while a man was trying to drown his sorrows, "and whenever that wave started...not a handful of minutes before hand, there -was- something.""Eh? Really?" Wiping his mouth, he glanced at the screen. "Wot sorta sommat, hey?" "Or rather, a nothing. A nothing at all. No readings could pierce it, none that I'd tried before it all went to hell. It was as if there was absolutely nothing there.""Yeh dinnae say," he said, twisting the cap back on the flask and jamming it in a pocket. Interest was dancing in his mad eyes. "Nuttin, hey? Wot kinda nuttin?" "I figured I tripped a time-minefield array with dodgy camouflage..." he trailed off. “There ought to have been -something- at the fringe, some demarcation…interactions along the border. I musnt've been looking the right way,” he chastised himself, as if unaware he was talking aloud."Nah, nae that." He gestured at the door. "Yeh get a distinct vortex signature wit' them, yeh do. Subtle, but it's there if'n yeh ken where ta look." "I don't suppose you want to tell me where you are," he said, attention back on the Meddler. "Or what you might've been up to by any chance at all."A broad grin. "Oi'm about... hmmm... about a thousand light years tae yehr six, an' three hundred years tae starboard. Oi'l light a candle fehr yeh." His lips pursed in thought. "As fehr what Oi'm up tae, it's all hush-hush stuff. Oi'll 'ave tae ask me 'andler if'n Oi c'n tell yeh Oi'm testin' a theoretical method o' directly infusin' highest-entropy matter with an entropic charge from the CVEs tae make a stable abaryonic entropic molecule." Glancing left, he blew a kiss at the red-haired Time Lord who was, even now, staring at him with a mixture of anger and resignation. ((OOC: And there's the stage cue for Berenyi to join in...))
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Post by Jilly Kitzinger / Berenyi on Dec 19, 2013 22:03:19 GMT -5
 Glancing left, he blew a kiss at the red-haired Time Lord who was, even now, staring at him with a mixture of anger and resignation. Berenyi pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest before offering the Meddler a rather obnoxious roll of her eyes. She wasn't sure which was more taxing to deal with: the Meddler, or... this other Meddler. Sure, both were good men, but... Ouch! That accent! "You almost done?" Berenyi snapped, just out of view of the monitor. "And, who are you talking to?"Her heels clicked insistently against the floor as she stepped closer to see, and she squinted at the image on the screen. "Hey... Is that who I think it is?" Berenyi asked with a somewhat amused little smirk. She'd heard rumors that the Doctor had returned, or was returning, or would be returning -- tenses were always such a problem when one bounced back and forth through Time and Space so much.
((OOC: To be clear, it's only Berenyi that can't stand his cockney accent. I, on the other hand, LOVE how you write it! It's fantastic!)) |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 21, 2013 20:50:34 GMT -5
"Mmm...yes, yes I suppose you would have," the War Doctor said with reluctance in his voice. "A commendable plan of action, as always Meddler," he said, shaking his head. "I just -said- I wasn't looking in the right...oh for god's sakes never mind. I'm not going to argue with a drunkard." He pressed his fingers to the console and reigned in his temper. "Well, then it wasn't that. I fear we're just going back and forth describing what it -isn't-." He scowled in frustration. "Hush-hush? Since when have you been hush-hush about anything?" And then he proceeds to tell him nearly the entire concept while saying he's got to ask his handler...hold on just one moment. "Oh no Meddler, you haven't gotten yourself mixed up with the -Careless Incompetence Agency?-" The fact Meddler was playing with HEM did not surprise him at all. That he was playing with HEM properties under the eye of the CIA however...he didn't know who to feel worse for, the CIA or Meddler. In his private thoughts he considered that such an arrangement could prove to be just desserts on both ends. The War Doctor heard a distinctly feminine voice carry across the receiver. His face looked thoughtful as he tried to place it, it did seem most familiar. If not in the exact voice, the cadence...or did he mean attitude? When he saw Berenyi's face suddenly appear on the screen his eyes widened. "My goodness, my dear, it has been a while, hasn't it? Still ginger I see." He gave her a twitch of a smile, a lingering amusement in his eyes. "Is it who you thought it was? Things have changed. I have changed. You may call me the War Doctor. That should keep things clear enough for now.” ***
The Web of Time was being unwove as fast as it was woven. As fast as it was rewoven, it deconstructed and degenerated.The fabric of reality thinned and thickened unevenly along the war scars as they formed, erased, renewed. In some places, spaces, and times the fibers weakened as they stretched, bifurcated or snapped apart, one from two, four from two...sixteen from four. What would become and never should be and always was intermingled into a miasma of crooked truths and half-formed potentials awaiting release. From this would/did/could/might emerge/d the restless monstrosities time forgot…something from nothing, from what never was, readying for the worst days of the War (yet to come). In nascent form, a herald attended to her own personal threshold in the Deepest of Darkness, in a forgotten and sundered part of the Time Vortex. She was not capable of disappointment, expectations or defeats. Around her ankles blew desert sands, bringing ideas to the species beyond the veil. Inspirations of madness and pandemonium, of freedom without restraint, of novelty and imagination leaked through. Once beyond her domain, these motes gained amplitude, took their own forms and shapes, integrated themselves into the clockwork universe under siege. Her voices were Cacophony, her body multitude, limitless potential, every possible combination attained. In the earnest outbreak of the War, she could shake free of the prison made for her by Rassilon at the dawn of reason. She could leave the desert in the monster dark. Cacophony cast her myriad eyes from a thousand faces upon the Watchmaker’s universe and waited for the ones who would be called upon to choose. Someone would arrive (again). Eventually, there would be a catalyst. For now, there was only the placeholder, a possibility of uncertainty where before there was none. ***
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The Could've-Been King
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Post by The Could've-Been King on Dec 22, 2013 21:08:55 GMT -5
Glancing left, he blew a kiss at the red-haired Time Lord who was, even now, staring at him with a mixture of anger and resignation. She rolled her eyes at the gesture. "Hush-hush?" The Doctor sounded incredulous. "Since when have you been hush-hush about anything?... Oh no Meddler, you haven't gotten yourself mixed up with the -Careless Incompetence Agency?-""Oh, jus'a wee bit," the Meddler confirmed. "An' no loik t'last time, either. Oi'm a... oh, how'd they put it... Oi'm a 'highly valuable resource'. An 'onest tae goodness strategic asset." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Oi've even managed a pardon if'n yeh c'n adam-an-eve it." "You almost done?" Berenyi snapped, just out of view of the monitor. "And, who are you talking to?""Near enuff," the Meddler shrugged, before turning his attention back to the screen. "See? This is wot Oi'm talkin' about, Oi am. E'er since th' War heated up, it's all "'urry, 'urry" an' no time fehr th'nicities." Meanwhile, the Time Lady had stalked over to the console. "Hey... Is that who I think it is?" Berenyi asked with a somewhat amused little smirk."Oi cannae say Oi ken who y'fink 'e is..." he started to say, when the Doctor jumped in. "My goodness, my dear, it has been a while, hasn't it? Still ginger I see." He gave her a twitch of a smile, a lingering amusement in his eyes. "Is it who you thought it was? Things have changed. I have changed. You may call me the War Doctor. That should keep things clear enough for now.”"Oooh," the Meddler said, voice filled with sarcasm. "Ain't we all dangerous now. Mebbe Oi should get me a new title too?" He took another swig from the flask. "Th' Drunkard, mebbe." Even as he said it, he flipped a switch. "There yeh go... Oi've activated me beacon. Nip on over, afore th' bleedin' Daleks 'r one o' their allies spots it." He grinned. "Oi'd 'ate ta spoil th' Deca's rep fehr bein' 'ard, by runnin' loik a whipped puppy what's also a coward, Oi would." |
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Post by Jilly Kitzinger / Berenyi on Dec 22, 2013 22:56:09 GMT -5
"My goodness, my dear, it has been a while, hasn't it? Still ginger I see." He gave her a twitch of a smile, a lingering amusement in his eyes. "Is it who you thought it was? Things have changed. I have changed. You may call me the War Doctor. That should keep things clear enough for now.” Her smirk grew into a proper smile, and Berenyi ran a perfectly manicured hand through her long, red hair. "Same hair, actually," she said proudly. "Same face, too - I've not yet regenerated. Heard it's quite... uncomfortable," she added with a distasteful little frown at the word 'uncomfortable'. Berenyi was used to not getting her hands dirty, which seemed to have extended the longevity of her first incarnation. "And, yes - I'd..." she went on a little hesitantly. "I'd hoped it was you, Theta. It's been too long - haven't seen you since the good old days," she quipped. The rumors had been circulating, and there had been traces of intel that had told her that the Doctor was back - that he had come home to help fight this terrible war, to bring it to an end. Which... Well... For a renegade like the Doctor was quite amazing. Inspiring, actually - even if he was sort of going by a new title. "Oooh," the Meddler said, voice filled with sarcasm. "Ain't we all dangerous now. Mebbe Oi should get me a new title too?" He took another swig from the flask. "Th' Drunkard, mebbe." Even as he said it, he flipped a switch. "There yeh go... Oi've activated me beacon. Nip on over, afore th' bleedin' Daleks 'r one o' their allies spots it." He grinned. "Oi'd 'ate ta spoil th' Deca's rep fehr bein' 'ard, by runnin' loik a whipped puppy what's also a coward, Oi would." Berenyi turned her smirk to the Meddler and mentioned, "'Fraid 'the Drunkard's taken. Or, have you forgotten Lilith, already?" She raised an eyebrow in jest - everyone ought to remember that crazy Time Lady. She'd been gone, perhaps, longer than the Doctor had been absent from Gallifrey - and she had a tendency to always be drunk. Berenyi kind of missed her. Kind of. "And, yeah. What he said..." Berenyi said, turning back to the monitor to again face their old friend: the War Doctor. That new title was going to take some getting used to... "And, hurry."
((OOC: Lilith = Iris Wildthyme. Both of these guys would know that - unless their memories are super-foggy, which would actually be quite understandable in both of their cases - LOL!)) |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 24, 2013 3:16:03 GMT -5
"You? A very valuable resource? I'm -not- sure I do believe it, no." As Meddler leaned in the War Doctor took the opportunity to consider at him a bit more closely. He wondered if it was a case of keeping him under watch, with the carrot of the pardon at the end of an exceptionally long stick. Neither of them had been very fond of rules. Then again, the CIA broke the rules with clockwork regularity to generally disastrous consequences, in his experience.
"That's the very nature of war. Hurry up and wait. And still never quite enough time to do what you want. Just what you need to get done."
"Yes, yes of course," the War Doctor said contemplatively. "Same face. Same you? You must forgive me. I was taken aback. First the Meddler and now you. Isn't this turning out to be a bit of a battlefield school reunion? Just like in the good old days, indeed." He gives her an introspective nod before straightening up. "Allow me to say that it -is- a shame it's come to this for us to meet again."
"Perhaps you should.” he returned brusquely. "And Meddler, one would be unkind to point out at this late juncture that it is far too late to worry about that."
“Who could forget Lilith?” he said to himself. She wasn’t the kind that would let you forget her, even if you tried. He wondered what she might be doing with all of this going on and hoped she had some sense to keep well away. At least one of them should be free of the madness at hand. He nodded to Berenyi.“Yes, yes, dear. I’m hurrying I assure you.”
With that he flipped the scanner off to devote his full attention to getting his TARDIS over to the beacon in one piece. Even though most of the main systems had recovered enough for basic use, he was leery of latching solely onto the beacon in light of what had just happened. He gave the console an affectionate pat. "Once more unto the breach and all that nonsense." And they were off, a thousand light years six and three hundred starboard, give or take a few centuries that abruptly never were.
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The Could've-Been King
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Post by The Could've-Been King on Dec 27, 2013 22:04:42 GMT -5
"Oooh," the Meddler said, voice filled with sarcasm. "Ain't we all dangerous now. Mebbe Oi should get me a new title too?" He took another swig from the flask. "Th' Drunkard, mebbe."
Berenyi turned her smirk to the Meddler and mentioned, "'Fraid 'the Drunkard's taken. Or, have you forgotten Lilith, already?"
"Naw, Oi ain't fergotten 'er," he said with an airy wave. "Mebbe we'll jes' 'ave us a little drinkin' match ta settle which one o' us gets it."
Even as he said it, he flipped a switch. "There yeh go... Oi've activated me beacon. Nip on over, afore th' bleedin' Daleks 'r one o' their allies spots it." He grinned. "Oi'd 'ate ta spoil th' Deca's rep fehr bein' 'ard, by runnin' loik a whipped puppy what's also a coward, Oi would."
"Perhaps you should.” he returned brusquely. "And Meddler, one would be unkind to point out at this late juncture that it is far too late to worry about that."
"Wounded!" the Meddler exclaimed again, smacking a scarred fist against his chest above his left heart. "Roight 'ere. An' mebbe we'll call yeh th' Passive-Aggressor, hey?" Raising his flask in salute, he added "Don' be long, now."
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Post by Jilly Kitzinger / Berenyi on Jan 1, 2014 18:45:27 GMT -5
"Naw, Oi ain't fergotten 'er," he said with an airy wave. "Mebbe we'll jes' 'ave us a little drinkin' match ta settle which one o' us gets it." "Now, that I would like to see," Berenyi replied with a smirk. "'Fraid it'll have to wait, though - priorities, and all that..." and she shrugged it off for the time being. ~~~ “Yes, yes, dear. I’m hurrying I assure you.” And then, the screen went blank. The Doctor - or whatever he was calling himself these days - was on his way. "Well, then," Berenyi said, spinning around a bit to face the Meddler straight-on. "Should go faster with his help," she said. "Assuming he'll help us, that is... What do you think?" |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 20, 2014 2:13:16 GMT -5
// Gallifrey: a Shadow House set on the Continent of Serene Isolation // The burnished russet evening light slipped seamlessly across the blank walls. It was the only mark of time that Lydarion could consistently count upon. The fragile nature of transition, of each day painted upon the still canvas of his cell, grew within his mind. Thoughts paced in the twisting canopy of his mind while his body lay still and empty. It had no real name, wherever he was, not one known to him. He was less than nothing now. These places were spoken only in whispers and soon forgotten. Those that lived on the fringe were reduced to fading memory. As soon as anyone exited through the doors, the sane and unafflicted would scrape their minds of torment they’d seen behind closed doors. But for those that lived there, there was no escape. They called it kindness, they called it life. Lydarion was sure that if his twisted body could have been straightened, if his mind could have only held together just a little better through the treatments, the forced regenerations, he might have left. Got up and just walked away to live in the wild wastelands. Instead Lydarion watched the progress of the celestial bodies and dreamt with eyes wide open. Visions burned through is mind, things he knew could not be real, things and moments and people that were almost real, but intangible. Plotted paths through time and space, all the impossible places in between. The caretakers would say he was mad if he dared voice what he thought he saw, he knew. But to stay sane he categorized them by colour, by sensation as they danced along his synapses. There were moments when he almost felt that he could move, or even fly. So close. The songs of the singers in the Houses of Shadows wailed, each distinct in its own suffering. The edges of the vision became cloudy and washed with tints and tones beyond what he should be able to see. The ceiling that Lydarion’s eyes stared at with glassy indifference appeared to split apart, fracture. It fell like feathers or snow, motes of dust bursting with renewed evening light. A fire…the room caught on fire, the fire in his mind, the fire that burned restlessly. From this dream he could barely discern a voice, or were there more than one? The chorus of his fellows, those with bodies and minds more intact than his own, fell quiet. For a moment, Lydarion’s mind was clear with shining promise. He whispered, his mouth moving as it hadn’t in years. His mouth twitched and shaped the promise that he would keep and slowly he smiled. A school of silver and gold metallic fish swam down from the broken heavens and into his mind, filling it with joy and freedom. Dreams that were waking delusions told him he could go where transduction barriers could not, go where his broken body could not. In his mind, he could walk, he could fly, he was unbounded. He felt alive for the first time in many spans, his feet brushing the dirt of dessert sands and breathing motes of madness. *** The War Doctor brought his TARDIS to the Meddler's in what seemed to be an instantaneous transfer. In reality, it took work, more work than it ought to have. It almost felt as if something was making her sluggish, anchoring the TARDIS or buoying her towards where and when he'd been hit. It was like traveling through a putty. When he arrived he looked to the scanner and his environs, curious as to where the Meddler had chosen for them to meet.
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The Could've-Been King
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Post by The Could've-Been King on Jan 22, 2014 14:11:38 GMT -5
"Well, then," Berenyi said, spinning around a bit to face the Meddler straight-on. "Should go faster with his help," she said. "Assuming he'll help us, that is... What do you think?"The Meddler began working the controls, recalling probes and manipulators and retracting the tiny sample of HEM. "Oi reckon," he said, "that this ain't in me bloody wheelhouse, is what Oi reckon. Oi also reckon this is probably sommat tae do wit' th' Doctor's past comin' lookin fehr 'im - jes' like th' bleedin' Daleks." He pushed a slider, and began entering coordinates. Then he laughed. "Still an' all, it's a laugh, innit? Ain't 'ad this much fun since th' bleedin war started, so let's go have a shufty." With that he threw a lever, and the time rotor of the TT-79 roared to life.
Mutter's Spiral
Earth
AD 1076, anno domini reckoningTime twisted and danced across the world. Currently, the islands of the Llwyth Unedig Prydain were the last strength and hope for free men. Across the narrow channel that seperated them from the world-spanning might of Roma Atomicus, men of iron in skin coracles contended with the might of the Atomic Legions that had crushed the tribes and cities of Ewrop beneath hob-nailed sandals. There was a roaring, groaning sound on the cliffs, and what appeared to be a stone sarcophagus appeared. It cracked open and the figure of the Meddler appeared, incongrous in his knee-length black canvas duster and black stetson. He drew in a deep breath, and thumped his chest dramatically. "Ah, yeah," he declared. "Yeh jus' dinnae get nae fallout loik that any more, yeh don't." Then he blinked. There on the edge of his vision - on the edge of his perception of the flow of Time - stood a small knot of translucent reptilians. "you will promise us," they whispered in voices only he could hear. "you will be our king. why have you not aided us?" Shaking his head, he fumbled the silver flask out of his pocket and took a swallow. He shuddered as the phencyclidine that laced the moonshine hit his bloodstream. The drug dulled his brain, made thinking a little harder, but killed the hallucinations that followed the twisting of the Vortex as the War built in ferocity. For a while. But he was developing a resistance to the drug, requiring heavier and heavier doses. And the War was escalating. "Earth," he muttered. "Oi wonner if'n th' Doctor'll recognize th' spot."
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Post by Jilly Kitzinger / Berenyi on Feb 18, 2014 22:16:15 GMT -5
 Well... Wherever they were headed, they'd arrived. Berenyi followed the Meddler out of his TARDIS and thought that it looked a bit out of place as a sarcophagus out here on the cliffs of... wherever they were -- but, she kept that observation to herself. They had enough to worry about as it was. "Ah, yeah," he declared. "Yeh jus' dinnae get nae fallout loik that any more, yeh don't." Berenyi frowned and drew her black leather coat more tightly around herself, though she was not actually cold. "I don't like it..."Shaking his head, he fumbled the silver flask out of his pocket and took a swallow. He shuddered... At first, Berenyi thought that the Meddler had gone for his booze because of her attitude -- not that she cared, or anything -- but then, she noticed that he'd done a sort of double-take. He must be seeing things, again... She knew a little of what he was suffering -- she'd read his file, after all. Perhaps, though, it might be best not to mention any of that, either. "Where've you brought us, then?" Berenyi chose to ask, instead. "Earth," he muttered. "Oi wonner if'n th' Doctor'll recognize th' spot." Berenyi frowned. "Really? This is Earth?" It didn't resemble any Earth that she was familiar with. Shaking her head in disgust, Berenyi sighed and went on, "Well, whether or not he recognizes this place, he will find us -- of that, I am certain..." |
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Post by Deleted on Feb 23, 2014 17:30:12 GMT -5
//Mutter's Spiral, Sol 3//
//AD 1076, time track ά 1.2//
The War Doctor's TARDIS was pulled along the warshock/ed vortex, the Meddler's homing beacon clearing a route through the chaos. The TARDIS held onto the signal, faithfully aligning herself and mapping the best course. The timeship arrived along a cliff-face with its usual noise, an incongruous blue construction against the natural landscape. He patted the console in silent thanks for the good landing despite the recent trauma of the backlash wave. He checked their location and headed out the doors, wondering how bad the timeline had been polluted and the extent of the damage it might engender. There was the chance that it would heal itself but the event had been severe, of that there was no doubt. The edges of his mind prickled again with uncertainty and a sense of forgetting something - with a sense of deja vu. He could only assume that it spawned from the sight of the monolithic TARDIS some yards away. Following his eye along, he spotted two figures standing near each other overlooking the view.
The smells of Earth in the Early Humanian Era filled his senses as he strode over to meet them, filling his thoughts with memories from past trips. For a moment he stood silently looking over the area as if trying to dovetail several piecemeal recollections, most stemming from his third regeneration. Then he turned to examine Berenyi and the Meddler, tugging his coat closed as the wind kicked up.
The War Doctor squinted at the Meddler with a slight frown. He cut an inquiring look to Berenyxiadora before nodding to them both. "Here we are then." Feeling slightly charitable, he continued, "Three of the best minds. My TARDIS is requiring some parts. I've had to make due with a bit of ingenuity," he continued, thinking of the ghastly amount of tape and solder he'd spent. "But I'd not like to bet on the odds of hitting another one of those...whatever it was again and seeing how they held," he admitted with a taut look on his face. "How did you both fare?"
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