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Post by Jilly Kitzinger / Berenyi on Oct 5, 2014 21:35:04 GMT -5
 "Tell me, does -anyone- truly earn their freedom from the CIA?" He looked at her pointedly. "If so, I should very much like to learn how," he quipped. Berenyi frowned at the Doctor's question. Surely, it had been hypothetical, but she hadn't been quite sure of who the Doctor was actually talking about: the Meddler, or himself... She chose to busy her eyes watching the Doctor's hands dance across the control console, rather than attempt to answer that rather loaded question. "Aside from replacement parts I think that the old girl will be able to handle some of this on her own, while we work. I think I'd like to have a look at what I didn't see," he said, more to himself than Berenyi as he hit the door control. The door opened, the fresh damp breeze of early Briton washing over his face and teasing him with half-forgotten memories."Ahh, fantastic! That's the first good news we've had all day!" Berenyi exclaimed, and she offered him a thumb's up and an encouraging smile, while she followed the Doctor back outside. No sooner had she set foot back on the sand, than the Doctor sprung to action. "Have you any questions, before we go and get to the bottom of this problem?" he asked, turning to look at her with a keen expression. "As they say on Earth a few centuries from now, speak now or forever hold your peace..."Before Berenyi could say anything, their duet became a trio, once again. The Meddler emerged from his TARDIS, a meter-long scroll of cream-colored paper clutched in one ham-like fist. "Oi object!" he boomed. "Yeh two cannae get married! She's th' father o' me babby she is!"Berenyi's jaw nearly hit the ground. He was doing it again: being obnoxious. " What?!" she indignantly retorted, shooting the Meddler a scathing glare. "You must have brain damage..." Berenyi muttered and then shook her head dismissively. He grinned broadly. "Wot? Yeh canna say sommat loik 'speak nao 'r fere'er 'old yer peace' an' nae expeck som wiseassin'." A laugh. "Dinnae glare so. We've a whoppin' great spacetime mystery starin' us in th' face! Yeh should be 'appy, yeh should."With a roll of her eyes, Berenyi sighed. Trying not to look as exasperated as she felt, she pressed her lips together and gave a cool, tight-lipped, and rather forced smile. " Riiiiight," Berenyi commented. "Super exciting spacetime mystery to solve. How silly of me to not be thrilled about it, oh-em-gee," she added, her tone so saturated with sarcasm and faux sugary-sweetness, that it was nearly dripping. "Seriously, though..." Berenyi interjected, her tone suddenly going all serious again. "Why are you so damn happy?" she asked the Meddler, while she questioningly inclined an eyebrow. Hunkering down, he snapped the scroll open to reveal about a meter of paper with diagrams and sigils in the center. He produced an inkstone and a brush from a pocket, and began grinding ink. "Me instruments weren't properly set fer th' temporal pressure wave, they weren't. So, Oi got bloody well almost nothin'. But!" He jabbed the diagram with a blunt finger. "Oi c'n extrapolate some o' th'character o' th' wave wot 'it me ship, just from th' damage it did."He traced the lines of something that could have been a sketch or multiple lines of Gallifreyan poetry or a complex equation. "Th' bloody thing hit wit' th' force o' a class three timestorm, based on th' damage to me ship. Survivable, but dangerous if'n yeh ain't ready fer it. An', based on where me ship an yer ship was, Oi'd say it was propagatin' in a hypersphere at... oh... roughly 300 year-light years per kilometer-hour at th' time o' impact. So... assumin' that's roight... that puts th' origin... here..."Berenyi followed along, while the Meddler showed them his calculations. Then, he pointed out the origin of the mystery-wave that hit his TARDIS. The Meddler peered at the coordinates he'd sketched out. "An' Oi've nae bloody idea what there is."Berenyi wasn't familiar with the location, either. " Well..." she began. "The universe is always growing and changing..." She shrugged at her lame reasoning, but she went on to say, "Regardless, it's way outside my jurisdiction. I don't know anything about that area, either," Berenyi confessed in such a way that sounded as if just the thought of not knowing something physically pained her a little. |
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Post by Deleted on Oct 7, 2014 23:03:04 GMT -5
"Oh, for goodness sakes." He couldn't help it though, he was -very- slightly amused. Mostly annoyed. But slightly amused. Very slightly. Of course the man would have to hear something not meant for his ears. More to the point, his eyes were drawn to the roll of paper that he'd brought with him. It looked promising, unless of course it happened to be utter nonsense. "Yes, yes," he said in a dismissive tone, acknowledging his jest. "But did you find anything?"
He hadn't been prepared for him to lay out a rough diagram but he couldn't fault that he'd used everything he'd had at his disposal. 300 light-years per kilometer hour...the shear forces alone...out of the blue as it were. Very dangerous. His eyes ran over the handiwork, nodding to himself. One hand went to rub at his face, pushing a scraggle of hair out of the way. Without fine tuning, he'd still managed to get something from nothing. Something potentially useful, in fact.
"Hrm. We can confirm it with my ship's readings. I've brought a data wafer of the event from my perspective, if you're ship is able to read them." He hadn't known how bad his ship had come through until now, seeing the block of ink and paintbrush. "Or I could make print outs."
A small smile turned up at the corners of his mouth. "What if -there- simply wasn't there, before it -was- there?"
It was a notion that did not sit with bland, flat physics. But the three of them were well beyond such elementary notions. In this raging time war, however, theories were unfortunately being put through the proving mill all the time and sometimes the unexpected outcome was the only one that could be depended upon. There was most assuredly something -not right- with the elsewise apparently logical conclusion that the Meddler had come to in his calculations. The place that no one knew where it was, that could only be in relation to what was known...fascinating, holding many implications. None of which did them any service at the moment.
"Let's go have a look, shall we? If we can't aim right at it, we've got two TARDISes and can use a buoy to triangulate. Unless yours isn't in flying order? A few repairs to mine...some parts borrowed from you and I believe she will fly again." He looked at Berenyi. "I've never heard of the CIA saying that something potentially useful or dangerous was outside their jurisdiction. Don't you want to find out what's caused this mess? I think you do. I know that I do."
True, there were Daleks to fight. There were -always- Daleks to fight. More and more of them, forever, on so many fronts that one could hardly keep track. And the most likely candidate for the event was still, in fact, the Daleks. Yet no -explicit- evidence pointed towards them...yet. Not that they had as much as they'd like to go on. No, the only way to find out was to go to the place that was impossibly there.
He looked at the Meddler and Berenyi with an air of conspiracy and a spark of interest in his eyes. "Shall we investigate?"
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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 Oct 19, 2014 13:15:40 GMT -5
 He grinned broadly. "Wot? Yeh canna say sommat loik 'speak nao 'r fere'er 'old yer peace' an' nae expeck som wiseassin'." A laugh. "Dinnae glare so. We've a whoppin' great spacetime mystery starin' us in th' face! Yeh should be 'appy, yeh should." Tthe Doctor laughed ever so slightly, and Berenyi forced a slight smile. "Riiiiight," Berenyi commented. "Super exciting spacetime mystery to solve. How silly of me to not be thrilled about it, oh-em-gee. A beat. "Seriously, though...""Oh, Oi've allergies ta bein' serious, love." "Why are you so damn happy?" she asked the Meddler, while she questioningly inclined an eyebrow. The Meddler stared at her, blankly, for a long moment. Then he looked to the Doctor, a mute appeal for help in his expression. "Oh, for goodness sakes," was the Doctor's only response. The Meddler sighed. " Because," he said, drawing out his words like he was talking to a small child, "Oi 'ave a... how'd yeh put it... a 'super excitin' spacetime mystery to solve'!" He threw an arm around Berenyi's shoulders, gesturing out towards the sea. "Yeh'r a Designer, love. A Chronal Architect, given permission ta modify th' Web o' 'Istory. An' sommat whoppin 'uge an' wierd jes' 'appened out there, an' yeh'r wonderin' 'ow Oi can be excited?" He shook his head, sadly. "Ah, love, th' CIA's ruined yeh." "Yes, yes," the Doctor said. "But did you find anything?""O' course Oi did!" Hunkering down, he snapped the scroll open to reveal about a meter of paper with diagrams and sigils in the center. As the other two Time Lords gathered around he produced an inkstone and a brush from a pocket, and began grinding ink. "Me instruments weren't properly set fer th' temporal pressure wave, they weren't. So, Oi got bloody well almost nothin'. But!" He jabbed the diagram with a blunt finger. "Oi c'n extrapolate some o' th'character o' th' wave wot 'it me ship, just from th' damage it did." He traced the lines of something that could have been a sketch or multiple lines of Gallifreyan poetry or a complex equation. "Th' bloody thing hit wit' th' force o' a class three timestorm, based on th' damage to me ship. Survivable, but dangerous if'n yeh ain't ready fer it. An', based on where me ship an yer ship was, Oi'd say it was propagatin' in a hypersphere at... oh... roughly 300 year-light years per kilometer-hour at th' time o' impact. So... assumin' that's roight... that puts th' origin... here..." "Hrm." the Doctor grunted. "We can confirm it with my ship's readings. I've brought a data wafer of the event from my perspective, if you're ship is able to read them." He hesitated. "Or I could make print outs.""Nae soul ta printouts," the Meddler said, waving his hand dismissively. "Yeh cannae feel th' maths, lettin' yer TARDIS do all th' work. But Oi'd like ta 'ave a look at yer data, work it into me calculations. 'Cause Oi'd really like more to work wit'." He peered at the coordinates he'd sketched out. "An' Oi've nae bloody idea what there is." "Well..." she began. "The universe is always growing and changing..." She shrugged at her lame reasoning, but she went on to say, "Regardless, it's way outside my jurisdiction. I don't know anything about that area, either."He grinned up at her, hearing the hesitation in her voice. " Course it's in yer jurisdiction! We're Time Lords, love. Well, yeh two are. Oi'm nae certain if'n Oi qualify still, but th' 'Ell wit' it. We're Time Lords! 'Istory is our bloody damn Birthright an' Duty, it is!" He glanced over at the Doctor, who was getting a crawling little smile in the corners of his overly-serious face. "C'mon...." he prompted, addressing both of them. "Yeh ken yeh wanna..." "Let's go have a look, shall we?""YES!" the Meddler shouted, springing to his feet and punching the air in delight. "If we can't aim right at it, we've got two TARDISes and can use a buoy to triangulate. Unless yours isn't in flying order? A few repairs to mine...some parts borrowed from you and I believe she will fly again.""Naw, mine's good enough shape, she is. Drudges'r repairin' gross physical damage now, an' th' cutouts protected the console from mosta th' worst. Poor dear'll 'ave a migrane, she will, but a little exercise'll put 'er right as rain." He looked at Berenyi. "I've never heard of the CIA saying that something potentially useful or dangerous was outside their jurisdiction. Don't you want to find out what's caused this mess? I think you do. I know that I do."
He looked at the Meddler and Berenyi with an air of conspiracy and a spark of interest in his eyes. "Shall we investigate?""Oh, yeah," the Meddler grinned back. "It'll be jes' like old times, it will." A pause. "Old, old times. Academy days." He clapped his hands together, rubbing them excitedly as his eyes gleamed with excitement. "We should get th' whole bloody Deca back together! Call up th' Rani an' Drax, an make Vansell an' Jelpax get offa their butts. An' Oi've 'eard th' Council even brought back th' War Chief an' th' Master - scooped 'em right outta the last seconds o' their lives, an put 'em ta work. We should get them, too..." He rolled the scroll up, then flashed another grin. "After all. What's a little attempted murder between friends, am Oi right?" |
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Post by Jilly Kitzinger / Berenyi on Dec 1, 2014 0:20:56 GMT -5
[The Meddler] grinned up at her, hearing the hesitation in her voice. "Course it's in yer jurisdiction! We're Time Lords, love. Well, yeh two are. Oi'm nae certain if'n Oi qualify still, but th' 'Ell wit' it. We're Time Lords! 'Istory is our bloody damn Birthright an' Duty, it is!""Ugh, that's not what I meant," Berenyi said, a bit exasperated with the Meddler. She agreed with him, that history was the Time Lords' birthright. It was just that her missions were primarily centered on Earth, while that mysterious location that none present were familiar with was far, far away from there. But, none of that was worth the effort to bother trying to explain. She sighed. He glanced over at the Doctor, who was getting a crawling little smile in the corners of his overly-serious face. "C'mon...." he prompted, addressing both of them. "Yeh ken yeh wanna...""Let's go have a look, shall we?""YES!" the Meddler shouted, springing to his feet and punching the air in delight.Berenyi couldn't help but smile at the Meddler's reaction. She, too, felt much the same way, but she was better able to keep it together -- more disciplined, you could say. "If we can't aim right at it, we've got two TARDISes and can use a buoy to triangulate. Unless yours isn't in flying order? A few repairs to mine...some parts borrowed from you and I believe she will fly again.""Naw, mine's good enough shape, she is. Drudges'r repairin' gross physical damage now, an' th' cutouts protected the console from mosta th' worst. Poor dear'll 'ave a migrane, she will, but a little exercise'll put 'er right as rain."He looked at Berenyi. "I've never heard of the CIA saying that something potentially useful or dangerous was outside their jurisdiction. Don't you want to find out what's caused this mess? I think you do. I know that I do.""Well, of course we should go look into it," Berenyi agreed. "Especially with the war on back home..." She trailed off, shaking her head in disbelief. "I doubt the CIA has the resources available to spare to send out there, so... we must."Besides, delving into the unknown sounded so much better than going back home and returning to the chaos of the war, just to report something that no one else would have time to see to. He looked at the Meddler and Berenyi with an air of conspiracy and a spark of interest in his eyes. "Shall we investigate?""Oh, yeah," the Meddler grinned back. "It'll be jes' like old times, it will." A pause. "Old, old times. Academy days." He clapped his hands together, rubbing them excitedly as his eyes gleamed with excitement. "We should get th' whole bloody Deca back together! Call up th' Rani an' Drax, an make Vansell an' Jelpax get offa their butts. An' Oi've 'eard th' Council even brought back th' War Chief an' th' Master - scooped 'em right outta the last seconds o' their lives, an put 'em ta work. We should get them, too..."He rolled the scroll up, then flashed another grin. "After all. What's a little attempted murder between friends, am Oi right?"With a wide grimace, Berenyi replied, "That sounds like a terrible plan!" With distaste all over her face, she shook her head disapprovingly and asked, "I mean, seriously? You honestly intend to drag even the Master into this? Isn't there any part of you that can see what a bad idea that'd be?"
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Post by Deleted on Dec 3, 2014 21:38:03 GMT -5
// OOC - Doc is not on board with 'getting said gang together' xD They have enough problems. But I shall make that more clear. He was hoping that he'd be more on board with the three of them - with the excitement of going.
"By the time they got the request report and approved any action, the war will either be over, or this problem so significant that we'll have more of a mess on our hands than we'd like." Paperwork, red tape...the bureaucracy involved in committees, well, they all took time. Ironically. "And other actions more complicated. It's true as well it might not be considered significant. But...I think that it is. There's something...there is something almost -familiar- about it that I can't seem to place."
He snapped out of his thoughts. It seemed that the Meddler would not be so easily put off the idea of reuniting them. His face was incredulous.He'd thought at first he could be swayed by the thrill of the chase. "I'm afraid that I agree wholeheartedly." Not only that, but he wasn't even sure -where-...no. He wouldn't even -start- down that train of thought. "That would be a colossal waste of time and energy. Besides which, wouldn't you rather enjoy the experience of solving the problem yourself?" Probably not. And the Meddlers's solutions were troubles in themselves. He had enough to look after without wondering if...-when- the Master was going to stab them in the back.
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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 21, 2014 1:19:38 GMT -5
"Oi was 'ardly serious, now was Oi?" the Meddler harrumphed. "Sure, let's us go an' invite th' bleedin Master along. Nae loik we'll 'ave tae watch our back 'r nuffin' fer th' whole trip." He bent over and rolled up his scroll, muttering under his breath the whole time. "Mind you," he added, glancing at the Doctor, "he did get better marks in Celestial Physics than you did... No? All roight, all roight, Oi'll be good." Still grinning, he slung the rolled-up scroll against his shoulder like a rifle. "Oi'll jes' need a a bit o' time tae patch up me TARDIS, Oi will, so's Oi'll set tae, shall Oi?" Whistling a jaunty tune, he headed for the stone sarcophagus. Then he paused, and looked back over his shoulder. "An' yeh tae newlyweds c'n 'ave a spot o' private time while Oi patch things up, hey?" Laughing, he headed for his ship. "Seriously," he muttered, "yeh cannae jes' say sommat loik 'speak nao 'r ferever 'old yer peace' an' nae get some ribbin'..." |
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Post by Jilly Kitzinger / Berenyi on Apr 18, 2015 17:28:34 GMT -5
"Oi'll jes' need a a bit o' time tae patch up me TARDIS, Oi will, so's Oi'll set tae, shall Oi?""Yes. Please do," Berenyi sassily replied back, pleased at the prospect of getting some time away from that man. And, besides... It's not like she was worried about him getting away. Firstly, there was a mystery to solve, and he was very on-board to try to solve it. But, also... Berenyi held on her person a remote that would recall the Could've-Been King's TARDIS -- lovely thing, that recall circuit. Whistling a jaunty tune, he headed for the stone sarcophagus. Then he paused, and looked back over his shoulder. "An' yeh tae newlyweds c'n 'ave a spot o' private time while Oi patch things up, hey?"Berenyi glared at him and let out a rather annoyed sounding huff of breath. Then, she shook her head dismissively and gave a roll of her eyes. How juvenile! Who had she managed to piss off enough to wind up being assigned to 'babysit' this Time Lord? Laughing, he headed for his ship. "Seriously," he muttered, "yeh cannae jes' say sommat loik 'speak nao 'r ferever 'old yer peace' an' nae get some ribbin'..."The Time Lady pursed her lips and then gave a rather disapproving frown. "I can still hear you! And, you already said that," she snapped. Rolling her eyes again, Berenyi turned her attention back to the Doctor and asked, "Well, I suppose we'd best take advantage of the quiet and think up something utterly brilliant, huh? Any bright ideas, yet?"
((OOC: Hope the bit about the recall circuit's okay. I can edit, if you'd prefer, but it seems to me to be something the CIA would totally do.)) |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 24, 2015 19:49:43 GMT -5
He felt his mouth crease hard into a grimace at the knock to his marks in the Academy. But that seemed ages ago, hardly something to carry a grudge over - despite the prodding and half a school reunion in the making. "Good, I'll see to the same." They could link their navsystems and pilot to the same coordinates, shunt the block-transfer equations through and come out the other side. Into the new space. A new space that shouldn't exist. Or a lack of space. An ill-defined area. The harder he tried to find a word for it, the less grasp on it he found that he had. Infuriating. It made him question the very ground beneath his feet. Why here? Why now? A subtle shifting in Time, like ripples that had hit their own ships, from that one major event throughout alltime. It was now imminent; the reality quotient of the area could be falling like a barometer in the face of an oncoming storm while they stood talking. "I apologise for giving fuel to that," he remarked as they walked back towards his TARDIS. He wouldn't admit to have gotten a bit carried away. He was after all trying to break his previous habits. "A bit ill-timed on my part," he was forced to concede. "Bright ideas...we do have a location of sorts. It's a bit like looking at something out of the corner of your eye, not quite discernible in form but just enough to react to and with, at a nearly instinctual level. Except it's not our eyes but reality itself." He stopped in his tracks with a frown etching deeply onto his face. Then he turned to look at Berenyi, curiosity and concern in his measured gaze. "A place without definition. That’s the crux of the issue – we’re marking them out now, setting a course. The more we look, the less accurately we seem to be able to clearly see. The mind slips away from it, refuses that it should be there." he feeling persisted that he was missing the obvious, that his rational judgement was obscured. "The brightest ideas are usually ones that I’ve found along the way but I have a feeling that we’re only going to find more questions. First thing to do is put our feet on the path. Leave the second guessing as we fill the missing pieces with the facts as they unfold.” He turned back to his TARDIS, gesturing with an arm out to Berenyi if she cared to join him or to wait outside. He felt like he’d only stepped back outside in order to get a fresh dose of the Meddler’s wit. Such as it was. Something was troubling him, nibbling at his mind and it wasn't the cold rain that threatened. ///A tiny, forgotten portion of creation within the Vortex///
///behind the Great Shadow of Reason ///
****
The weather was changing, the air heavy with a tang of ozone. Above them, the clouds began to gather. The first murmurs of thunder trembled on the horizon. It brought with it an ill wind and a rain began to fall upon the fields of man. Each drop touching the water left in their wake complex interference patterns, blooming and fading away, canceling one another out or reinforcing one another. As the Time Lords plotted their paths and made their choises, great battles were won or lost. As the Time Lords looked, the data assembled itself around their efforts and described the elephant - what it wasn't but not quite what it was. As measurements were confirmed and repairs completed, the light was turned on in the Darkness to make headway into the Impossibility, the Impossible decided to look back with a bold eye. From the vantage of her children, Cacophony saw some of the least possible harbingers and waited for them to guide the rest. One, cast off and objectionable, an unwinding of history within him, not so dissimilar as she who was deemed unsuitable, unstructured and banished. She knew that the drink in his pocket would not keep him from the precipice. Perhaps he would put his hand upon the door to her realm and be the first to step over the threshold. But similarity was not required. It could be the Doctor with all his –reasons-, or the Architect, or the man who danced with his mind…even the hapless Britons and the many myriad small creatures crawling upon the surface of the Earth and those of Gallifrey would soon know that her children had arrived. She waited to see who would bring the first forms to her realm under the dark sun. Behind her shifted shapes half formed, other children, robotic female forms unbuilt, simply existing. They too arose to greet the heralds and make the new accord. It was all a matter of time. And time was something the Watchmakers were particularly affiliated with even as she spurned dates, epochs, histories and limits. The battle for reality had never ended - merely paused. Perhaps now the Watchmakers would see sense, see the use for irrationalities in the face of their new Time War. |
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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 Aug 31, 2015 6:51:22 GMT -5
Still sniggering, the Meddler walked back into his TARDIS. "'Alley looya c'mon get 'appy," he sang, doing a complicated little dance step as he worked his way across the floor, "gonna' shake all yehr blues away. 'Alley looya get 'appy, gettin' ready fehr th' judgment day!" Still humming, he tapped a few controls and checked the readouts. Most were a healthy silver color, but a few blinked orange-red at him. He peered closely, then smiled. "Aity-ait per cent ready," he observed. With a quick glance back at the door, he dropped down and crawled under the console. Yep, still missing. He grinned at that, a sly, evil grin, and crawled back out. He'd found the three recall circuits the first day he'd been given this ship, and he'd dismantled and reinstalled all of them. Now they were hooked up to deliver a metric ton of hog manure back to the landing creche in the Citadel. "Oi gots no strings, so now Oi'm free..." he half-sang, dusting his knees off. "They's gots no strings on me." Another display flickered a warning symbol. He checked it, did a double take, then moved to the Communications panel. "Oi! Doc! Yeh an' Beri'll wanna take cover, yeh will! They's a class two chronal flux inbound!" A chronal flux, of course, was part of the fundamental education of a Time Lord. It was the bow wave of changes to the local past catching up with and overwriting the local present. A class two was significant, but not the storm that had battered the two TARDIses. A Time Lord could weather one unprotected, if need be. "It's inboudd from th' same direction th' last one came from. Yeh got aboot three minutes, give'r take aboot three minutes! So shift it!" |
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Post by Jilly Kitzinger / Berenyi on Nov 29, 2015 14:51:16 GMT -5
Berenyi nodded as she absorbed what the Doctor had tried to explain. "So... We may as well be going in blind, then, huh?" she rhetorically asked, while she pondered this new Thing. They'd have to just ride it out and see where the random waves of chaos took them, it sounded like. By the time she realized that the Doctor had returned to his TARDIS, and that she'd been left alone to ponder the mysteries of the universe, the Meddler's obnoxious voice rang out from his TARDIS, warning her and the Doctor to take cover -- that another chronal flux wave was about to hit. "It's inboudd from th' same direction th' last one came from. Yeh got aboot three minutes, give'r take aboot three minutes! So shift it!" Her eyes grew wide, and she silently cursed. Berenyy didn't want to take a direct hit from the wave, even though she was sure she could take it... but, what if it changed her, like it changed the rest of Reality, overwriting bits and pieces of History? Berenyi hated the thought, and so she darted back into the Doctor's TARDIS, post-haste. "Did you hear?" she asked the old man, clearly worried. "Another wave's about to hit. Should we stay here, do you think, or book it to the other TARDIS?" |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 8, 2015 0:36:36 GMT -5
"Looking before leaping does not seem to be yielding any tangible results," he said, sounding miffed. He was lost in thought as he walked off to the TARDIS, not realising that Berenyi was not following. He was used to people just following...that, or wandering off.
The door had been left open, almost as if an afterthought as the Doctor of War had taken to running the data through a final algorithm or two, trying to discern an solidify the thing that refused to be quantified with the Meddler's courses. Frowning, he looked around at the sound of the Meddler's and Berenyi's voices. He waved her in and closed the door. "-Other- TARDIS?" he scoffed. "This TARDIS has protected me through thick and thin, a little class 2--"
The wave hit the TARDISes, history erasing and overwriting itself. There was a crest and a trough, classic in every sense, something that could be weathered by a TARDIS even a broken, old antique. It was the wake that was the problem; in the wake, the eye of darkness that was being scrutinized looked back. History bent, warped and twisted like so many strands of seaweed collecting on a particularly stubborn pair of piers. Around them, as the ships maintained their relative stance in the web, the history turned, changed and were in turn changed and turned by the presences of the Time Lord ships, vacillating between what was writ and overwrit and worse...
The anomaly's nascent presence became a potential and possible event in spacetime as it swept around the ships, resonating down and up the local timestream. The threads of time split apart into a myriad of possibilities all as likely as the next. While the clockmakers stood within counting beans and making measurements and plans, the very world they were on felt the shifts in history. The edge of reality itself began to blur into a patchwork with each of them holding a needle, to make or unmake with the depths of their own instinctive natures, searching for that part of them that had been lost, removed...the irrational, the imaginative...the maybe-whens, the could it bes. Dinosaurs on a southern shore, calling for their king. An architect building castles of time, knitting together at a whim, and the Doctor no more...
Dumping to the ground, the one that had exchanged one name for a thousand others, scrambled up from the floor again as something sparked and spit from the ceiling. The lights flickered before settling to a deep, dim and distressing lamplight of roundels. But most telling, more than the shock of warning buttons aglow on the console, was the dull tolling of the cloister bell. "...that was -not- a Class Two!" he said, casting a worried glance at his ship and then at Berenyi.
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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 Jan 12, 2016 8:03:59 GMT -5
The Meddler clung to his console for dear life as the TARDIS rocked and heaved in the storm. Lights flickered, a sure sign of the Godmind diverting more and more power to the chronal envelope and the stability fields of the Pillars of Harmony, and the low, urgent tolling of the Cloister Bell could be heard echoing from the depths of the great ship. "Bloody 'Ell!" he squawked as the deck lurched beneath him. "This ain't no bleeding class two!" Time and space distorted around him as the chronal envelope deformed under the impact. He forced himself to reach the eight seconds across the console to manipulate the controls, wasting agonizing decimeters with the effort. The clicking of the controls hit his ears before he hit them, then he tapped his instructions in again and listened to the clicking of the keys. "Timemit isi naean cooperatin'nitarepooc..." he called, voice lowing and stretching in the inches it took him to speak. Gritting his teeth against the temporal flux, he did the only thing he could. He threw the emergency dematerialization switch, casting the TARDIS adrift in the Vortex. Running before this storm was dangerous, terribly so. But trying to remain anchored to conventional spacetime was worse - the time winds would batter the ship against the distorting planet's temporal mass shadow, inverting the inner dimensions and casting him across local History. Grimly, he refused to consider the madness the scanners displayed beyond the Pillars. The Vortex roiled in chaotic fractals, swirling and breaking against the ship in torrents of fluid time and great roiling sheets of artron and huon discharges. Every impact sent ripples across the strands of the Web of History, deforming and fraying the patterns and forging madness out of the imposed stability of the Time Lords. Time, wild time, assaulted the manufactured History that bound it. Finally, after greens of miles and hundreds of lives, it settled down. Automatically the Meddler checked the navigational displays, trying to ascertain where and when he was. The readouts made no sense - static replaced the curvilinear glyphs, static and images and screams. But he had the Doctor's battered old TARDIS on visual, resting on a surging field that refused to settle down long enough to be described. Gritting his teeth, the Meddler flipped on his communicator. "Yeh two all right?" |
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Post by Jilly Kitzinger / Berenyi on Jul 4, 2017 17:39:08 GMT -5
As Berenyi picked herself up from... well, whatever they'd just weathered, she caught the Doctor's eye. He looked concerned, as well they all should, for, as both men had said, that was no 'Class Two'.
"What the hell, Monk?!" Berenyi roared.
Yeah, she was alright. And somehow, that tricksy man had gotten them out of there.
"Where are we, now?" she asked, sounding a bit less gruntled. She moved to stand beside him and took a look at the readouts.
"What is this...? It's all wrong!" Berenyi observed, and she slowly met the Could've Been King's gaze. "Doctor, you'd better come and see..."
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Post by Deleted on Aug 17, 2017 13:01:05 GMT -5
He looked over towards Berenyi, to see if she was injured. Thankfully not. His comment was cut short. Over the warning klaxon of the cloister bell, he hit the viewscreen on as he saw the Meddler's ship trying to make contact. A burst of static erupted along with the stench of another singed console circuit, but the Meddler's voice came over, just barely and following that a visual, cut by zig-zag interference lines. Close inspections seemed to imply that there was some kind of data in the chaos, some other transmission, or transmissions, coming from somewhere, or somewhen, buried in the field. "All right? No, it's all wrong, everything's gone wrong, just as she just told you! My TARDIS isn't enjoying this, it's trying to make sense of the fluctuations but it's too much for the old girl. What's your status?" he asked, trying to make sense of it all.
He moved to the side and joined Berenyi to look over the readings. None of them made any sense. Yet...it felt strangely familiar, as unfamiliar as it was - something about a Kuhn Paradigm shift tickled in his mind. And, as the Time Lords looked upon the space that was not quite realspace, it formed under the powers of their subconscious observations, the mixed-state events settling somewhat into a little pocket of rationality in a great, formless sea of potentials, wild and terrible. Each possibility was a grain of sand, deposited in the semblance of a massive desert of pink sand that coalesced, deposited in the wake of the sandstorm stirred by the arrival of their TARDISes. It left the ships half-buried in maybes, their thoughts giving uncertain forms that heaved and broke free the harder that they tried to capture what was seen.
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