The Could've-Been King
16+ Members 
"We can never know what might have been. But what is to come is another matter entirely."
Posts: 141
|
Post by The Could've-Been King on Feb 25, 2014 8:33:47 GMT -5
"Earth," he muttered. "Oi wonner if'n th' Doctor'll recognize th' spot."
Berenyi frowned. "Really? This is Earth?"
"Yep," the Meddler answered, voice mournful. "Pevensey Bay. Roight aboot now - when 'istory was on course - William th' Bastard'd be makin' 'is landin'. An... oh.... about five centuries relative back, Oi was gonna be roight there -" he pointed at a gnarled copse of trees - "tae blow 'im ta hell an' back wit' an atomic cannon."
He sipped at his flask and smiled, just a little. "Course, th' Doctor went an' messed it all up. Coulda 'ad 'em on the moon in three 'unnerd years, Oi coulda."
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..."
"Oh, yeah. Me TARDIS is lit up loik th' 'Igh Council, it is."
And sure enough, the faint wheezing and temporal pressure of a TARDIS landing could be heard. Laboriously, the ridiculous blue box shape of the Doctor's capsule struggled through materialization. After a moment the door opened and the shabby, bearded figure of the Doctor emerged. He squinted at the Meddler with a slight frown. He cut an inquiring look to Berenyxiadora before nodding to them both. "Here we are then. "Three of the best minds."
"Y'ken," he said, tucking the flask back in his pocket, "Oi'da argued that, a few centuries back. Me an' Beren here, we didn't... get along so well, last toim we worked together."
In truth, she'd been tasked with keeping him in line when he'd been released from Shada to serve as the CIA's attack dog. And he'd taken his resentment out on her, as the CIA's representative. In retrospect, it might not have been fair.
"But, yeh. She's sharp as th' proverbial tack, she is. Mebbe a little... orthodox, though." He grinned. "No offense."
"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?"
"Lucky," the Meddler replied without hesitation. "Really lucky - we were out on the edge o'the event, an' jes' got... shaken up a bit. An' since Oi've got a 73a now - on account o' the imposter 'avin me 67 -" there was bitterness in his voice, "that's a good thing. A 73's jus' no built tae take that kinda shock close up."
|
|
|
|
Post by Jilly Kitzinger / Berenyi on Mar 10, 2014 19:21:05 GMT -5
 "Here we are then. "Three of the best minds."
"Y'ken," [the Meddler] said, tucking the flask back in his pocket, "Oi'da argued that, a few centuries back. Me an' Beren here, we didn't... get along so well, last toim we worked together." Berenyi shot a smug smile towards the Meddler and gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. He was right; but, they really only butted heads when it came down to their methodology: Berenyi tended to do things by the book, whereas the Meddler tended to do things his own way. It is what it is -- it's just the way they worked. No more, no less. "But, yeh. She's sharp as th' proverbial tack, she is. Mebbe a little... orthodox, though." He grinned. "No offense." Returning the Meddler's grin, Berenyi gave a slight shake of her head and replied, "It'll take a lot more than that to offend me, Meds -- no worries." Then, she turned to face the Doctor, and, still smiling, she said, "It's so good to see you again, Doctor -- I do hope following us here wasn't too arduous a journey..." "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?"
"Lucky," the Meddler replied without hesitation. "Really lucky - we were out on the edge o'the event, an' jes' got... shaken up a bit. An' since Oi've got a 73a now - on account o' the imposter 'avin me 67 -" there was bitterness in his voice, "that's a good thing. A 73's jus' no built tae take that kinda shock close up." "Yeah... It's been... less than ideal," Berenyi agreed. "Though, that's hardly any of our fault," she added, letting it be known that she didn't blame the Meddler (nor the Doctor) for the... well, whatever it was that had brought them all here. |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2014 23:17:46 GMT -5
"I said nothing of how well anyone got along, now did I?" He shuffled slightly, hands at his sides. "That was my white flag statement and already I'm wishing I'd skipped the pleasantries. Ah well."
It wasn't as if his own track record with the CIA was anything but one regrettable occurrence after another. The fact he was again facing another member of the CIA was not encouraging. The spring of eternal hope was not quite as full as it had been in his past lives and diminishing with each wartime catastrophe. He found it especially ironic that although it was the Daleks that they ostensibly fought as the enemy, so far he'd had to face perils that arose from other quarters attempting to horn in on the unstable nature of the Time War.
"Indeed, I cannot imagine why I might have thought pottering about with entropic molecule production might have unleashed some manner of temporal disturbance." He frowned, his attitude shifting towards apprehension. "Yet it doesn't seem to be the case. As I said, just before the temporal backlash, there was a darkness...an unfathomable event. I could not get a reading on it through any normal means which in itself was how it was detectable, as everything around it, much as black holes in the days of old could be detected. Simple induction. It was a hole in space...a nothing, an impossibility. I was wondering if your instruments had any data before they too were ruined. If we could configure something to trace the wave back to its source...to see what effects the ripples have had...aside from rampant destruction."
He shook his head again marginally. "I was just telling myself that I couldn't study every anomaly that happened to crop up in the course of the War." He sighed, thoughts turned inward. "But if this event is carving a slice through the web, it could be some new weapon unlike any we've experienced before. Perhaps a weapons test gone wrong," he speculated.
"Mmm...well it is indeed lucky that your TARDIS was able to take the strain," he said to him. He tilted his head a moment and thought back as if something he said had struck him as an ill placed chord in a song might. Then he gave a slow nod. "Yes, lucky indeed you've got the 73. We should make use of its innate resilience...and the question becomes how do you find something that should not be there?"
He reached up and scratched at his beard, staring out over the land, drinking in the muted hues and battling his uneasiness. Something was wrong... "Surely that won't be hardly difficult at all for the like of us, now will it?" He looked to them both, noting their interactions with one another. War made for strange bedfellows, as old the saying went.
****
// Gallifrey: a Shadow House set on the Continent of Serene Isolation //
Lydarion danced the living life of the nowtime and conversed with councils of silver fish. The outer voices of the others of the House had fallen silent to him. The waking dream filled him with the desire to create, to make and to undefine. His own body and mind were only the first thing that he realised could be changed.
Floriafaraxi peered into Lyarion's room, unnoticed, one hand pressed to the cold glass. He hardly ever noticed her any longer, preferring to stare up to the ceiling with his face frozen into a rictus of wild rapture. A pang of sympathy shot through her, surprising her with its strength. It had been so long since she had been drawn to the essence of the dilemma in such a personal manner. Working with the wounded and sick for centuries had hardened her hearts enough to fulfill her duty day after day. She had been Lydarion's caretaker since he had come to them years before. It was clear to her that his situation was rapidly declining, just as the others before him had done. How many would have to succumb before they scrutinized it as a discrete new affliction, Floria did not know.
Soon they would bring him nourishment...the evening would be on them again. She pulled her hand away, startled. Squinting into the room, she pursed her tired lips and whispered, "It can't be." But she was sure she'd seen Lydarion move his legs, just for a fleeting span. She'd been about to take her leave but now she stood waiting to see if her mind had played some willful trick on her. She would not believe herself so weak, she was not yet so worn through this body, was she?
|
|
The Could've-Been King
16+ Members
"We can never know what might have been. But what is to come is another matter entirely."
Posts: 141
|
Post by The Could've-Been King on Mar 18, 2014 21:27:23 GMT -5
 "Mmm...well it is indeed lucky that your TARDIS was able to take the strain," he said to him."True," the Meddler agreed. "Oi've nae said th' 73's a bad ship by any standards, jus' that it ain't me own ship." He stared out at the English Channel, watching the iron waves break on the rocks. He tilted his head a moment and thought back as if something he said had struck him as an ill placed chord in a song might. Then he gave a slow nod. "Yes, lucky indeed you've got the 73. We should make use of its innate resilience...and the question becomes how do you find something that should not be there?"Scratching his chin, the Meddler considered that. "Hmmm... Oi like that, y'ken. It's a challenge, that is. An' Oi've been a mite bored, recently." He reached up and scratched at his beard, staring out over the land, drinking in the muted hues and battling his uneasiness. Something was wrong... "Surely that won't be hardly difficult at all for the like of us, now will it?""Naw," the Meddler laughed, claiming a large rock as a seat. "Nae one bit. See, Oi've 'ad me a stoke o'genius, Oi 'ave." He drank another slug from his flask, and wiped his mouth on the back of his scarred hand. "See... Oi ken how yeh c'n look fehr sommat what ain't supposed tae be there. It's loik lookin' fehr a black hole..." A grin. "Yeh look fehr the evidence o' it's existence, don't yeh? Wha' d'we kne about this thing?" |
|
|
|
Post by Jilly Kitzinger / Berenyi on Mar 30, 2014 22:01:37 GMT -5
"Yes, lucky indeed you've got the 73. We should make use of its innate resilience... and the question becomes how do you find something that should not be there?"
"Hmmm... Oi like that, y'ken. It's a challenge, that is. An' Oi've been a mite bored, recently." Berenyi gave a smug little smile and rolled her eyes before crossing her arms before uttering a little, "Hmph...""Surely that won't be hardly difficult at all for the like of us, now will it?"
"Naw," the Meddler laughed, claiming a large rock as a seat. "Nae one bit. See, Oi've 'ad me a stoke o'genius, Oi 'ave." He drank another slug from his flask, and wiped his mouth on the back of his scarred hand. "See... Oi ken how yeh c'n look fehr sommat what ain't supposed tae be there. It's loik lookin' fehr a black hole..." Berenyi nodded, following the Meddler's theory. It seemed sound. They could probably use a TARDIS to do a scan for any number of things: light, sound, radiation... and, wherever there was a notable absence of these things, they'd either have found this mysterious, inexplicable nothingness, or... a black hole. She had been about to say as much, but then Berenyi noticed she grin spreading across the Meddler's face. "Yeh look fehr the evidence o' it's existence, don't yeh? Wha' d'we kne about this thing?" "Well..." Berenyi began. "We don't know much. We don't even know if it was the CIA, perhaps, as the Doctor suggested, testing a new weapon -- if they did, it'd be even more black ops than what I do..." She trailed off a moment, not at all liking what she'd just implied. "Unless it's the Daleks..." Berenyi added, almost as if she were trying to convince herself that it couldn't possibly have been Time Lords behind... well... whatever it was that had happened. Obviously, something had happened. Cosmic incidents like this didn't just happen on their own. |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 3, 2014 23:25:23 GMT -5
"Only you could be bored in the midst of what is shaping up to be one of the most catastrophic wars in of all time," he said, shuffling his feet. He looked over at Berenyi as she made a noise by his side. "It certainly isn't the company, perhaps the work?" he asked without expecting an answer. "Yes, we'll have to start with fuzzy concepts. Better than an argument from ignorance, though I do feel we're searching for a teapot in a tempest," he agreed. "I had plotted and accepted my course through to the Medusa sector but hadn't yet departed when the event struck my timespace. I was located in a recently destroyed zone, the Daleks having ravaged it and left nothing behind for me to make heads nor tails of, I was not even aware the area had been a target. It was nothing out of the ordinary and had decided to leave, go to an active zone." He huffed, setting his shoulders as he thought about the blankness he'd seen. "I'll patch up the systems and see what data I can grab. Considering the wave...or whatever it was or wasn't, passed through our TARDISes we should have gotten something. A nothing-something. Something from nothing..." He scowled at the infernal vagueness in his tone. "I wonder if anyone else was caught out?" he mused idly. "The more angles that we have the more we can find out what it isn't." He looked down at Meddler as he sat with his flask, drinking and overlooking the spot he chose to land them to sort this out. Knowing him, there was some significance to it, other than it was clearly Earth - they were in Sussex and there was a fair bit of history that came along with that. He shook his head, exasperated. He knew he was forgetting something...this place only served to remind him of what he forgot. What wasn't there and was supposed to be. His face cut a thin frown as he thought over how he'd tried to leave his last life behind. He hoped he wouldn't be as prone to memory issues. Then again...it was a Time War, who knew how many threads had woven their way through their biodata, how many had been trimmed and re-writ to fit? He paused as if he was going to say something further, question the man that sat beside him. Instead he looked again querulously towards Berenyi. "Perhaps you'd like to see the damage and assist me in taking stock? Then we can compile our datapacks." It was a thin excuse to get her away and alone, ask her what the CIA was on about this time. He didn't trust them...they'd given him very little reason to over his years. In fact...trust was not something that was easily forthcoming for him in this skin. Necessity demanded courtesies and strange alliances even so. ****
The Herald could hear the discontinuity of history, the breaking of the tick from the tock, atoms splitting and emerging, time crushing itself into nether and herenowhappen. Cacaphony awaited the new discourse; her prodigies were not far from her influence now, if indeed they ever had been far perhaps they’d always been listening and just forgot they could hear, that they could dance. The veil felt thinner under her gaze, the partition set in place by the great almighty Rassilon and his kin was becoming malleable. Velvet darkness would/did descend on the lands...fragile glowing globes of blue green and golden red, tempering under the brushing of her persuasions – really their own forgotten persuasions, desires long ago plucked out and thrown away only to return to where they belonged. Where they had arisen from. Eventually there would be/was/had been a catalyst - time's arrow was bent. Hoards of Britons and the Kingdom of South Sussex... the Jutes and the Saxons...the United Tribes of Britain...the Picts, William the Conqueror, the cycles of battles and wars seemed endless...but one thing remained: beings and their dreams of Empire, beings who sought to strike their own accord. Make a mark. Define. **** //September 27-28th 1066 AD – when his story was on course// William the Conqueror pointed his fleet of longships across the 56 mile span of the Channel carrying his expeditionary army. He took them out at evening tide with the expectation of coming to the landing in the morning but the wind was rough, casting his boats towards the harsh and treacherous rocks. This false start did nothing to stop William from going through with his plan. Again he took the Mora and departed from St. Valery, this time his masthead marked with a lantern. He led the way as a bright star, the swift ship soon leaving his fleet behind to tread swiftly towards the Somme estuary. Here he waited as his fleet slowly grew to a thicket of prows, the bodies of the ships creaking in the damp evening, the cargo ships with horses and armors arriving at last. Meanwhile, King Harold’s patrolling warships had left the area for a much needed resupply at port. Another turn of fortune took the English armies that had spent their summer months digging out the trenches at the old Roman fort and sent them to fight off the invading Norwegians, leaving the shores vulnerable. //September 28th 1066 AD// The monster dark encroached upon the fleet with an invisible hunger. The water was choppy in the wind, the rocky outcroppings craggy teeth grinning under the bare light of the moon. Scudding clouds overhead built purple sculptures out of the night sky. Slopping up against the sides of the boat, the water rocked the army aboard. They were ready for a battle, ready to put ashore, had been ready when they left. With any luck and skill the day break would find them put along the Saxon coastline, charging for the remains of the old Roman fort at Sussex. But for now, they were chasing the Mora. Their flagship was leagues ahead of them. It would take the best part of the hour to make time on their tail at the knots they were making. The cargo ships behind them were even farther behind. The winds had died down, part blessing half curse. One of the vassals jostled his fellows and pointed. The prow of the ship was cutting through debris, bits of wood and material catching the prow. One reached out tentatively with an oar and caught the rended tatters of multicoloured silks, a square of canvas banner. |
|
The Could've-Been King
16+ Members
"We can never know what might have been. But what is to come is another matter entirely."
Posts: 141
|
Post by The Could've-Been King on Apr 9, 2014 21:10:51 GMT -5
"Hmmm... Oi like that, y'ken. It's a challenge, that is. An' Oi've been a mite bored, recently." "Only you could be bored in the midst of what is shaping up to be one of the most catastrophic wars in of all time," he said, shuffling his feet."Oh, it's bleedin' awful, th' War is," the Meddler said with a shrug. "But yeh gotta admit, it's an opportunity tae test out some o' me theories about th' structure o' 'Istory." Berenyi gave a smug little smile and rolled her eyes before crossing her arms before uttering a little, "Hmph...
"It certainly isn't the company, perhaps the work?" the Doctor asked without expecting an answer."Now, dinnae be loik that, love," the Meddler said in a pleading tone of voice, merriment sparkling in his eyes. "Yehr delightful company, yeh are. When Oi've nae got a th' Time Lords squattin in me 'ead an' makin' me behave." He reached up and scratched at his beard, staring out over the land, drinking in the muted hues and battling his uneasiness. Something was wrong... "Surely that won't be hardly difficult at all for the like of us, now will it?""Naw," the Meddler laughed, claiming a large rock as a seat. "Nae one bit. See, Oi've 'ad me a stoke o'genius, Oi 'ave." He drank another slug from his flask, and wiped his mouth on the back of his scarred hand. "See... Oi ken how yeh c'n look fehr sommat what ain't supposed tae be there. It's loik lookin' fehr a black hole..." A grin. "Yeh look fehr the evidence o' it's existence, don't yeh? Wha' d'we kne about this thing?" Berenyi nodded her agreement, and the Doctor scritched as his own beard. "Yes, we'll have to start with fuzzy concepts. Better than an argument from ignorance, though I do feel we're searching for a teapot in a tempest," he agreed."Well..." Berenyi began. "We don't know much. We don't even know if it was the CIA, perhaps, as the Doctor suggested, testing a new weapon -- if they did, it'd be even more black ops than what I do..." She trailed off a moment, not at all liking what she'd just implied. "Unless it's the Daleks...""Take yehr pick," the Meddler shrugged, gesturing around. "Us. Th' Daleks. Mebbe th' Great Race, 'r th' Deathsmiths 'r th' Xothic Clade 'r... hells, any o' th' Great Powers coulda done it in theory." Another shrug. "In theory. Ain't nae sense in speculatin', until we get more data." The Doctor started thinking aloud on that, working through where he'd been and what he'd seen when the shockwave hit. He huffed, setting his shoulders as he thought about the blankness he'd seen. "I'll patch up the systems and see what data I can grab. Considering the wave...or whatever it was or wasn't, passed through our TARDISes we should have gotten something. A nothing-something. Something from nothing..." He scowled at the infernal vagueness in his tone. "I wonder if anyone else was caught out?" he mused idly. "The more angles that we have the more we can find out what it isn't.""Three blind men, describin' an elephant." He paused as if he was going to say something further, question the man that sat beside him. Instead he looked again querulously towards Berenyi. "Perhaps you'd like to see the damage and assist me in taking stock? Then we can compile our datapacks.""Yeh," the Meddler agreed, even though he hadn't been asked. "Yeh two do that. Oi've got a few tests o' me own tae try." He tucked the flask back into his pocket. "Mebbe Oi c'n at least find me a snake, when Oi check that elephant." |
|
|
|
Post by Jilly Kitzinger / Berenyi on Jun 7, 2014 17:10:08 GMT -5
 "Perhaps you'd like to see the damage and assist me in taking stock? Then we can compile our datapacks." Berenyi considered the Doctor's suggestion, and while doing so, she glanced towards the Meddler. She wasn't sure if she ought to leave him to his own devices, unsupervised, while she went off with the Doctor to, presumably, talk about things that the Doctor didn't wish their colleague to overhear. A moment later, she hesitantly nodded. She knew that without any distractions, the Meddler would be able to work more efficiently. "Yeh," the Meddler agreed, even though he hadn't been asked. "Yeh two do that. Oi've got a few tests o' me own tae try." He tucked the flask back into his pocket. "Mebbe Oi c'n at least find me a snake, when Oi check that elephant." Berenyi shot the Meddler a smile and said, "Alright. We'll be back in a few -- do try not to burn anything down," she quipped with a mirthful little smile. Then, picking up her datapack, she turned to the Doctor and said, "Let's go check things out, then, shall we?" and she walked beside him down the Sussex coast, away from the Meddler. "I suppose you've got questions..." Berenyi assumed aloud, once they were out of earshot of the Meddler. "Ask away, and I'll gladly answer whatever I can." She didn't like what was happening, and if anything she knew could possibly help correct whatever was going on, then Berenyi would share what she knew, whether or not her superiors wished her to. |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 12, 2014 1:15:24 GMT -5
"Yes, that sounds...wise," he looked at their compatriot again and gave him a nod.
Then he began walking with Berenyi towards his TARDIS, the area again prickling at his senses with each step. He opened the doors and allowed her to enter ahead of him. His ship was still in a state of disrepair. Bare wires hung down dangling from the ceiling and equipment was strewn hastily across the grey flooring. Panels had been torn off in a rush and left wherever he had tossed them. There were blown out circuit wafers, bits held with clips and tape and just as embarrassingly, parts strewn on top of console in a state of being half cobbled together. Really, what his ship needed was time, but that was something of a hot commodity.
"You'll pardon the mess, if you would," he said shortly, closing the door behind them.
"That's appreciated. I have plenty of questions. About both what's happened to bring us together and you and him. It's been some while since I've run into...well. I'd say start at the beginning but we've not the luxury." He went to a station at the console and put up the diagnostics scan he'd left running and a list of parts he still needed to get her working in good order. "Perhaps you can start by telling me just how bad off he is and we'll go from there, hrm?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Jilly Kitzinger / Berenyi on Jun 19, 2014 17:35:08 GMT -5
"I have plenty of questions. About both what's happened to bring us together and you and him. It's been some while since I've run into...well. I'd say start at the beginning but we've not the luxury." Berenyi gave a casual nod of understanding and took a deep breath. She was probably about to piss off her superiors, probably in a major way... but, it couldn't be helped. Berenyi knew the Doctor was probably the only person who could help them sort out this whole mess, but he wouldn't be able to be very effective unless he'd been made privy to some pretty top-secret intel. "Perhaps you can start by telling me just how bad off he is and we'll go from there, hrm?" Again, she nodded. "Of course," Berenyi said, pleased that the Doctor seemed to know exactly what to ask -- it'd make this go faster, and it'd probably be loads more efficient. "You see... the Meddler sort of... Well, in a nutshell: he got himself into an awful lot of trouble with the Time Lords -- worse than you ever have -- and as penance, he was sentenced to serve the Celestial Intelligence Agency," Berenyi vaguely explained. "I believe you endured a similar punishment?" she asked. "Though, his case is a bit different than yours," Berenyi went on. "He's... being compelled to follow his orders," she said with distaste. "I don't like it," she added softly, shaking her head from side to side. "But, it wasn't my decision -- no one would even listen to me... They said he just couldn't be trusted."
((OOC: I do hope I haven't botched up the stuff about the Meddler/the Could've-Been-King. Please let me know if I have, and I will edit accordingly. <33 )) |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 20, 2014 14:09:31 GMT -5
"Worse than I ever have?" He couldn't decide if he was amused or annoyed and sounded both. "Good to know that I still set a benchmark on Gallifrey." He huffed a sigh as she continued on, speaking of Meddler's punishment. His face became stonier by the second. He wasn't sure who to feel worse for, the Completely Idiotic Agency or the Meddler. Perhaps they deserved one another. Then again, Berenyi appeared to be willing to help without the nonsense of circumlocution. Maybe there was hope after all.
"Compelled to follow orders?" he frowned. "Pray tell, how so?" Oh, the C.I.A. It was likely that they would never learn. And yet he couldn't seem to escape them, especially not in the War. Perhaps Berenyi would be the best of the lot and he should be so grateful. That was yet to be seen but it was better than the alternative. "If he can't be trusted, we shouldn't leave him overlong."
He finished up transferring over any information that his battered TARDIS had finished processing. Testing one of the scanners, he let the data roll in from the local area, looking for anything unusual that had yet to be noted. And, while he was at it, a short-range scan for nearby, to see if the Meddler was outside.
|
|
The Could've-Been King
16+ Members
"We can never know what might have been. But what is to come is another matter entirely."
Posts: 141
|
Post by The Could've-Been King on Jun 20, 2014 23:28:41 GMT -5
The Meddler's booted feet clacked on the marble-like hexagons of the floor of his TARDIS as he stalked across them. A simple twist of a control later, and the door whirred shut. He stood there at the Navigational panel, fingers itching. Berenyi was aboard the old junker the Doctor was still flying, so he wouldn't even have to feel bad about abandoning her. He tapped coordinates into the controls, setting them in the general direction of 'Hell-and-Gone'. It's not like Gallifrey really needed two of him, so let his double do his duty for the Time Lords. He had work to do, and the bloody stupid conflict between the Daleks and Gallifrey was just making that work stickier and hairier and harder to do. "Let 'em all go ta 'Ell," he muttered, feeling the ghosts of ancient compulsions gnawing at his mind. "Burn, th'lot o' yeh. Jus' leave me be." His hand hovered over the dematerialization switch. It would be so easy. One motion, and they'd never find him. He could disable the trackers again, install a home-made Eye... His hand hovered longer. "Bleedin' 'Ell," he snarled, wiping the coordinates he'd just set. "Oi mus' be gettin' soft, Oi mus'." Grumbling, he shifted to the Engineering panel and began pulling details up on the wave that had hit them... |
|
|
|
Post by Jilly Kitzinger / Berenyi on Aug 17, 2014 18:38:09 GMT -5
"Compelled to follow orders?" he frowned. "Pray tell, how so?" Berenyi frowned and ruefully shook her head. "I... I don't know, exactly," she answered. "From what I understand, it- it's not pleasant." "If he can't be trusted, we shouldn't leave him overlong." "I don't know that it's that he can't be trusted," Berenyi said a bit uncertainly. "But, I do agree that we'd do well not to leave him to his own devices for too long." She offered the Doctor a sort of apologetic smile crossed with a grimace. "If it's worth anything, I trust him," she added. "At least, I trust that he'll do what he can to help in this situation." She paused a moment and then went on, "He is an old friend, after all, and he's terribly clever... and, who knows? If his assistance in all of this pays off, he may very well have earned his freedom from the CIA." Berenyi shrugged. It was a long shot... But, it was a possibility. That is, if they could get to the bottom of all this and get it sorted out before it was too late. |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Aug 19, 2014 20:16:59 GMT -5
"I believe that you believe that. It shall have to suffice for now. It's still something," he replied quietly in the interval.
"Hmmm..." he said in a non-committal tone as he finished setting up some of the self-repair protocols to run while he was out gathering the rest of the necessary parts and sorting out the mess. "Tell me, does -anyone- truly earn their freedom from the CIA?" He looked at her pointedly. Extracting a data wafer from a slot on the console, he slipped it into a pocket, hoping it would lend answers when combined with the Meddler's readings. "if so, I should very much like to learn how," he quipped.
For a moment he was lost in the internal world of his own thoughts. There was something familiar...an anomaly, appearing from seemingly nowhere/when but perhaps from anywhere/when. Still, these things happened in a Time War, it might only be an echo. Holes in reality, vortex warping, collapsing timelines, bifurcations rampant, tangling the Web, these were just some of the unintentional and intentional consequences that were destroying history and higher reality...as if suddenly remembering where he was and with whom he was with, he glanced back at Berenyi to see if she'd noticed. At least he knew where he was now. Pevensey Bay, the 28th of September in the year 1066. He gave the console a firm pat with one hand as he pulled away.
"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. The thoughts remained stubbornly unformed and unrealised, as if the closer he tried to examine them, the more urgent they were to disperse under his scrutiny.
"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..."
|
|
The Could've-Been King
16+ Members
"We can never know what might have been. But what is to come is another matter entirely."
Posts: 141
|
Post by The Could've-Been King on Aug 28, 2014 12:53:43 GMT -5
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!" 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." 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..." The Meddler peered at the coordinates he'd sketched out. "An' Oi've nae bloody idea what there is." |
|
