eastbound | Entries tagged with doctor who: the doctor

No doubt you woke up and before absolutely anything else at all, you thought, what's this Merchant on about anyway? What's this time loop business? Territories existing beyond everything? If we break the flow of time, will there be dire consequences? What's the meaning of life? Does this jumper match my eyes? Chocolate for breakfast?

Important questions!

So, let's share. The Merchant answered very few of my questions, but that's okay! Too much transparency and he'd break form with the enigmatic persona he's carefully constructed.

Time is already broken, though. It was broken long before Yancai, I suspect. If pockets of time, space, and energy here exist outside of everything, they were already there long ago. It's entirely possible those exist because of the flow of time being broken in Yancai, in which case we're living through a boot-strap paradox, where things play out in such a way that events ultimately cause themselves as a result of backwards causation and time travel. How did that happen? The source is still unknown, though it doesn't help those meddling with time here in Yancai seem unconcerned with the consequences. They were desperate and afraid, I understand it, but the moment time is tampered with, it creates tiny fissures like a hairline fracture in a piece of glass. If it's not set to rights by someone who knows what they're doing, the tiny fissures splinter off and what are we left with? Precisely what the Merchant's mentioned — pockets of time beyond everything.

If we break the flow of time, are we helping or hurting?

The answer is always a question.

Time was already broken. The more that it loops, the more unstable it all becomes. Time will always attempt to correct itself, once it's been manipulated and forced to bend to the will of others. Not to mention, it's not the most pleasant life to live out, the villagers here, trapped in the same cycle.

Outside of those questions — yes, the jumper does match your eyes, lovely as they are. Chocolate for breakfast is a given, obviously, or you're not doing it right.

[ Somewhere in there, he pauses. Briefly. ]

Back! Sorry. There was a thing —

Right. Spoke with the Man in Black. Called me nephew? He lost his family long ago to storms or sickness, he couldn't or wouldn't say. He mentioned mastering the secrets of the universe but he couldn't do anything to stop a cough. Sound at all familiar? I certainly thought so. Immortality was a theme of our conversation. He said it was a joke, but then also that one day he would absolutely be immortal. Make up your mind! Lovely fellow. Looking forward to being followed by him in the future.

I do wonder if the Man in Black isn't perhaps our White Wanderer, come to the end of his life. A manifestation that's traveled through time. Or an alternate universe. No harm in a theory.

Oh, and many thanks to all who helped with rehabilitating the beast that Lan Wangji and I found in the forest. Returning it back, it led to something of the Huntress' in the forest as well. A tablet with her sigil on it, along with a map and a destination she'd circled that said: Hawevasthan, in the east. She'd marked and inscribed it, THE PLEDGED LAND. The Merchant spoke of it being a sanctuary of sorts. He mentioned priests and cults, mirrors and shadows. An improvement over Yancai from the sound of it, perhaps they've taken my complaints to heart.

One last thing — there's a lot going on so, do call upon me anytime for a chat, I'm here to help.

reparo

A moment of your time while we await the next wave of...whatever forces come our way. Let's share our findings, please - there have been many pieces moving on this board.

We know from Wrathion that the Huntress credits the Man in White for her powers, but despises him. Some of us have witnessed her somehow ripping out her heart and cutting it into pieces, and handing it to Miang-Si to bury them around Yancai - she mentioned it would make her powers take root.

A word of warning: do not touch the heart slivers with your bare hands. They hold powerful magic, and we can probably fairly assume this to be necromancy, and may sway you to - well. Eat it. I don't recommend doing this part either.

Red and I healed one of the beasts that hunt for her in the woods, and he (I am unclear if it's a he, but it feels unfair to call it an 'it' when he's been so helpful) took us to the hiding place of one sliver. On the way we unearthed a box that belonged to the Huntress and inside it a lock of hair, black hair - which possibly belonged to her son. It feels odd that she would still hang onto that, considering that she gave him into the care of the House of Ravens. Was this a demand from Matthias in exchange for power, or just zealotry?

Either way, there was a location engraved on the box, Kathul - we can thank Red for cleverly figuring out it was a location. It's south of here, and might yield nothing but also might unravel some mystery so I thought it was worth sharing with the rest of us.

lanclan

[ When you turn on your comm today there is a recorded video waiting, a kind of asmr amid the fervid chatter on other channels. Have you been stressed recently? Mentally drained by timeskips and inconstancies? Do you miss home or someone special? Your family? You might want to spare a few minutes to settle your mind and let it drift to the sound of the xiao Xichen conducts. Sat alone on the end of a pier, dressed in a mishmash of his own blue robes and the plain cotton ones gifted by Wei Wuxian, he kneels with his back to the camera and the majority of the view taken up by the lotus-blooming lake ahead that glimmers in the sunshine, twinkles of ice-blue qi wreathing the instrument like living fog.

And he plays for a while.

It has an odd effect on you. Were you listening in person it might actively cause you to calm down, but the sensations the song evokes are much the same even from a distance: perhaps you relax or slow down a little, if you were anxious or in a rush. Odd, that. You can always replay it if you need it to soothe your nerves again. ]

pulvisetumbra

Good afternoon. As ever, we have scant time for well wishes and compliments. This is the Merchant. To those freshly in my care, I bid greetings and remain at your service. To the rest: your ongoing survival is a matter of celebration.

( And... incredulity, though he will not be the man to say so. )

I am given to understand you remain in — a part of Yancai. I speak to you from five years onwards. We have succeeded to break the time's weave for precisely one hour to allow this communication, after which I regret to bid my leave. Let us employ our time wisely.

My hope and concern is that, in your attempts to remedy the harms of this village, you will succeed, as you have before, and break the flow of time. If you do — when you do, know this: just as there are territories outside of land, there are those beyond time. Often, they are wastelands or exist independently under the rule of tyrants without reason.

( A distasteful concept to him, for how his voice sours. ) Many of Akhuras' least... favoured sorcerers were exiled in such pockets. I hold minimal sway there, past episodes of commerce.

( Hesitantly: ) If you arrive in such regions, seek out waypoints bearing the carvings of an eye with the sun for a pupil. They were put in place to return Ellethian trade caravans to their true place in time.

( And might, on this occasion, serve the party. ) If you do not break time, if you merely wait out Yancai's next transition and return to five years onwards organically, ignore my cautions. Either way: see what may be gleaned from this Yancai of old. I trust no village whose House of Commerce once dealt on friendly terms with the warlord Anurr.

( ooc: please assume all interaction with the Merchant on this post happens within the span of an IC hour — thank you! )

downswing

( Two men and a xenomorph walk into a tavern —

...alternatively, stumble down a woodland road, breath staggered, seemingly drained — if not by the weight of the enormous forest creature they carry, bled and bound to a makeshift pallet of decayed logs, then by the constant, jittery effort to evade the strikes of its tail.

The Doctor drags the animal’s wooden bed by long, loosely woven strips of ripped cloth. Lan Wangji holds the pendant with one hand and his own cutting strings that fetter the beast with the other.

For their trouble, the creature’s tail lovingly smacks the Doctor on his flank, then thwaps Lan Wangji’s temple, on the swing back. It growls its thanks after, before settling into a... disturbing... purr... that seems to indicate the time to nap is nigh.

The Doctor, then: ) It's settling down a bit already! Just needed a proper looking after, really, like anything.

( Well said, Doctor. For your effort, have a nice, friendly, sleepy tail smack on the back. So Wangji doesn’t feel jealous, the snoring beast peers over his shoulder, drenching it in a sea of... drool. He sighs. )

We bear one of the Beastmaster’s creatures. Feral, wounded. Enemy of the Huntress in the woods.

( Who should have been long culled, but don’t let Lan Wangji’s long-suffering expression convince you of that. The enemy or their enemy, so on. )

It requires... healing to resume duties. We number those who know the care of animals?

( ooc: ...sorry, cave buddies, just going to park Fido in the back real quick! Any veterinarians in the house? )

thedreamer

Hello, friends, colleagues, partners, traveling companions, ghostbusters, and all other applicable terms suitable for the genuine fondness felt when carrying on through another day together! I'm the Doctor. Not a doctor, the Doctor. Though, I am a doctor of practically everything, in fact. [ As if that's less confusing. And he doesn't elaborate further. ] I've been through this with most of you already so let's skip the finer details, eh? Time Lord with two hearts traveling about time and space in my box, all brand new and ancient, the bluest blue. But here we all are together now, specifically on this train at the moment.

So! Onto the important things! First: everyone okay? [ Narrator: No. No one is okay, Doctor. ] Settling in? Call on me if you need company. You'll find I'm well suited for it, if we haven't had the pleasure of our paths crossing yet. Pity, that!

Second: I had a chat with our dear Contessa Lita recently. Wonderful company, easy to pass the time with, brilliant conversationalist, absolutely forthcoming and nothing at all unusual about her demeanor, just like everything and everyone else is perfectly normal here.

[ An actual pause, an intake of breath. Imagine that! His tone, of course, is overly exaggerated, heavy with sarcasm when he speaks about everything being perfectly normal. ]

A few important and relevant details to share regarding the bridal party we're traveling with. She's—I do wonder if this would be better—hang on.

There. Okay. Good. Write it out. Remember this. Take notes. Brew a pot of tea. Sit and stay a while.

Contessa Lita - happily married? Or is she? Her count, by her own admission, will be around 'some time, at some point, somewhere.' Vague details and seemingly weary of discussing her marriage.

Firo the hero with endless stories and we're all just footnotes in her tale, so says the Contessa.

Prassenze and Firo had never met until now. No doubt you've heard the gossip already.

Prassenze wrote a nearly obsessive amount of letters of admiration to Firo. Said all the right things. An enamored admirer.

No, this text business is a bit more limiting...

There we are, much better. I like hearing your voices anyway!

[ Or...the sound of his own voice...? ]

The Contessa, despite my numerous assurances to the contrary, insists she's the plainer sister. Nowhere near as important as Firo.

[ He did ardently try numerous times to boost up her morale and confidence, but, well, by her own repeated admission, she's but a bystander in Firo's grand story. ]

If you're at all curious about the Cradle itself, as I was, the Contessa shared that the storms used to be far worse before the rules were put in place to prevent dream thieving and the dream thieves were hunted down, but the danger of the Cradle still exists. Now what about the dream thieves, you ask, and naturally you would ask—they were supposedly using the storms to cook things and bring them into the waking world and it made all the nightmares worse.

[ Certainly, not entirely unlike a few things he's encountered before in his own travels. ]

They would...take what existed in someone's dreams and put it back here with the other wakers and no one could tell the difference between what was real and what isn't. Dream thieves look like anyone else, and when they would go messing about, they'd bring things to life in the Cradle, which made the Cradle angry, like a child or a baby throwing a tantrum, she was quick to emphasize. Yes, that isn't lost on me either—a child throwing a tantrum in the Cradle.

Ah, what else—told you, we had a good long chat—oh, right, she also didn't answer when I asked how long she's been on this train. Avoiding the answer, didn't know the answer, didn't want to know, didn't care to know, insert other ideas here.

There we are, then, let's talk amongst ourselves!

damnable

So turns out the beacon can swallow you up and spit you right back out after several decades in your own world - in case everyone else is as unaware of that being a possibility as I was.

Name's Red for those of you who didn't know me before when I was teenage-shaped and brand spankin' new to life. For those who did, sorry for the awkward, weird social situation the beacon's just created for us. Now that I'm wiser-to-life, I feel it's better to be up front about some things. I can see people's souls, auras, whatever you wanna call 'em. So I know a lot about someone from the get-go, and I can't turn it on and off.

So there's some options:

A) I can tell you what I see when I meet you in full detail so you know what I know.

B) We both pretend like I don't see shit. Denial is not just a river in Egypt, it's a fun little coping mechanism.

C) My ability malfunctions - can't control this but it happens here.

D) I can make some colorful description up, and we roll with it, cause why not? Live your dreams.

If you got a preference, let me know or I'll assume B is it. I'll be at the bar, drinking about a thousand drinks, and grappling with sudden onslaught of memories and emotions and all that messy fun shit. Cheers, and Happy Train day.

( OOC: Open to network responses and/or action spam. If you want Red to see your chars' aura at some point, feel free to fill it permissions here - I assume her ability just doesn't work if there's nothing filled out so no worries regardless. :) If you already filled it out on her old journal, no need to fill it out again! )

reparo

[ooc: backdated to Sand In Your Eyes (end of)]

Hello, Hermione here, currently writing this from the exit of Ra'esh's temple.

We've found water for the sandworms in a pool, in a cave. We also found a woman in that cave. Her name was Marath, she was alive, and she was tied to the altar and chained. We've set her free - and if anyone has a word of criticism about that decision, by all means, convince me why any living soul should be chained to an altar and left to rot and to thirst and to die. I'll wait.

Anyway, Marath's people are the ones who occupied Uruksithar. She claimed she was left behind because she warned them not to go into the desert. Once freed, Marath ran (rather athletic for someone of her condition if you ask me) and left myself and Vi locked in the temple.

Don't worry, we're out now. Keep an eye out for Marath, if you can. And don't drink the water from the cave if you make it there, it felt...oozy.

[ooc; If you'd like some context, here you go.]

hatejakku

[ The feed clicks on to reveal Finn and The Doctor, probably an unlikely duo to find on the network at this hour. The former doesn’t give anyone time to speculate, though, and just jumps right into it. ]

Ma'am Mariol contacted a few of us. She said that Serthica is pumping some sort of gas into the Mouse House, something that makes people slow and tired. She's convinced it has to do with heating, but she also told us it happened before, right after the coal sickness.

After our conversation, I went down there to investigate the composition of the gas and its source. All that we know for now is that it contains many of the sedative and memory loss ingredients discovered recently by those in our group, Caitlyn and Vi.

Everyone's okay for the moment - well, I use that term loosely - but how long that lasts, we can't be sure.

[ He's also worried about his little buddy, Gavroche, who was unusually skittish and reluctant to explain why. He's put a pin in that for later. ]

Not the easiest, going back and forth there and getting through customs, but I'll plan to visit with them again in a day or two, make sure they're still well. [ Checking in over the pendants isn't satisfactory enough for him. He'd be going back and forth more frequently if he could, but he has to operate within the limitations of their present situation, which frustrates him, to say the least. ]

Some of us had spoken previously about organizing efforts to help their situation down there, but that was before we realized what they're doing to them. Everything's changed now.

[ Finn, who’s been watching and chewing on his bottom lip, jumps back in. ]

They need our help. For one, we have to find the source of this gas leak. Whether it’s intentional or not, whatever the gas is, it needs to be stopped.

Second-... Well, I’d like to get her and the kids out of there and bring them to Minaras but that’s going to take more money than the Doctor and I have. Hard to say it’s really safer up here, but I think pooling money together for this could be worth it, anyway, if for nothing else than to just improve their situation once we handle the gas.

If anyone has spare change or more ideas, we’d appreciate it.

[ ooc: Finn's red, The Doctor's blue ]

makemeasong

[ Clara's sitting as privately as it's going to get in the Mouse House, still a little breathless. Not from exertion, but from realizing she might've heard something she shouldn't. She can't know for sure, but her gut tells her it's important. Her first instinct is to find the Doctor and tell him, but she'd done the first thing he'd asked her not to and wandered off. As always.

In need of semi-fresh air, she'd waited until he was busy talking to someone else before quickly excusing herself, walking away before the Doctor could protest. She'd walked a few blocks toward the ports when she'd overheard a small group talking about a person named Cain. The way the apparent co-workers tensed and glared at her when spotted, made her feel as if the complaining hadn't been meant to be heard by anyone, not just her. Back inside, she's decided to share what she overheard when she doesn't spot the Doctor right away. Whipping out her new device she takes a minute or two to understand how it works before her face pops up on the screen. ]

Hullo, I'm Clara. Met some of you during the [ Her free hand waves around vaguely. ] events. I'm not sure what is and isn't important here, but a talking fox told me I needed to make tea to get out of a murder house, so who am I to decide what everyone should or shouldn't know?

[ Either someone tells her not to worry about it, or she's given out something everyone needs to know. She should really wait for the Doctor, but there's no going back now that she's announced it. ]

Went outside and overheard two people talking about someone named Cain do..brick? [ She can't quite remember how it was pronounced, but hopefully, she's close enough. ] They've done something to make an employer angry enough to hit an employee after getting off the phone with Cain. Something about an offer involving parts and grease for Minaras and Eidris. There was more, but I'm not sure if this means anything or not. The people talking about it got pretty upset when they saw me, so I thought it might be worth mentioning.

[ There's a pause as she decides to wrap things up. ]

In case none of this matters, quick question. If you've met the Doctor, what was your first impression, please? [ There's a quick, cheeky and teasing smile that suggests knowing him before the video ends. ]

edgerun

ANYONE KNOW WHERE THE BRAINS ARE ON THE DROIDS? WHERE THE BRAINS GO? WHO HAS ACCESS TO THEM?

OR ANYONE JUST WANT TO BUY A DROID?

strewth

[The voice is definitely English, a scouse accent mixing slightly with bits of Cockney, if one is the sort to recognize it.]

Lovely weather we're having in this sodding fishbowl. Nearly reminds me of home. Ah, hfff, something to lighten the spirit. I've got a story.

Have you lot heard of Ellethia? Couldn't tell you how it's spelled; I haven't the foggiest whether we're playing with Fake Latin or fake Greek. Gorgeous country, it is; proper Byronic. Maybe fake Greek, then.

It were haunted.

D'you remember a bloke prancing around during the communal head trip? Stroppy bastard he was, complaining to me about tea and infanticide. Reckon he had more sparkling conversation for you lot. Wore white. Ghosts in your Ellethia said he got a uniform from them. Or from there, at least.

Don't all rush to thank me. Weren't alone. Your girl Lila, she were dead helpful. Distracted the ghosts she did. I'm sure she'll love the credit, hehh.

And that'd make me John Constantine. [It rhymes with Clementine.] Ain't me first brush with ghosts, let's say. Magic, that rubbish, have you ever seen any? The real stuff, I mean.

downswing

( 'lo, from the depths of the Mouse House, post-Unwinding: )

If... this were no dream. The child of the rains, bearing a vulpine mask. 'Hyang-Won' and his pale protector.

He is remembered? He did not appear as the other manifestations.

Though we have retrieves ourselves, we cannot abandon a child to nightmares.

( Guilt is strong among exorcists. )

eternallywandering

Are we seriously considering each other as virgin sacrifices to a dragon? I'm prepared to save any of our number that ends up in peril, but this is asking for it.

[Old man Zishu is judging you. Don't make him fight a dragon for stupid reasons. No one wants to die stupidly.]

Or are we purposefully voting for those who can fight off a dragon? Tell me I'm worried for nothing.

[Please. For once.]

inferus

This is what lies beyond the living-but-not walls in Chricter's secret room. ( The video starts with the sharpness of Wrath's voice in the dark cavern. Wrath and Fei continue forward with dim magical. Fei's sword is drawn, Wrath's serpent-dagger is in his hand. There are 20-25 mannequins in various states: burlap to human-like with defined features and soft skin.

A splash is heard as they step into dark water, and Wrath's jaw clenches at the realization they are being drained from the contact, but they have little choice but to push onward. Fei looks similarly displeased but determined. ) It is the dark water as it was in the volcano, as it was under the sea, infusing into the burlap sacks and making beings who are-

( Wrong. Unnatural. The video lands on the dog tags on the mannequins with a name on one, with a phrase on the other: hello, birdie, squirrel, eat your nuts!, the train goes, choo-choo on the other. ) Like the phrase left for Arabella.

( Before more can be said, chaos. The mannequins wake in a panic. They attack, rushing forward. Wrath and Fei work together to fight them off. She has been drained of stamina, and he has been drained of magic. They are worn from the waters, but they work in tandem - two experienced fighters, slashing through the burlap and false skin. It'll be difficult to tell what exactly is happening through the flurry of movement and sharp blades and burlap and skin and blood and features but not.

The mannequins rush out through the opening. Screams and shouts are heard from outside the room - distant. Fei and Wrath (bloody, torn, dripping dark water) step out of the wall. Fei spits out blood and wipes it from her chin, and then the video focuses on Magnus and Xingchen, waiting on the other side. The two were protected by Xingchen's talisman, which prevented the dark water from going any further. Magnus has his portal ready, and he speaks sharply: "Everyone into the safety hole now," and through it they go.

The echoes of chaos are left behind, and then there is darkness and silence. )

winscenario

[ The video starts without words, or introductions. What people can see of it, Jim is in a dark room, cold and almost cavernous, no windows to let any light in. Paint is peeling off the walls, and furniture is scant, what little of it is there falling apart and thrown across the dark, blood-stained floor. There are chains, needles and ropes surrounding a table in the middle of the room, but none of it is quite as scary as the figure lying down across the tabletop, seeming like a human strapped to the table. It's eerily still now, but from the wild look in Finn's eyes, standing some good feet away from the table, that probably wasn't always the case. ]

We can't get it out of here, are you insane?! We can't—

[ Finn's voice is quiet but panicked, and silenced by Spock's swift and quiet interruption. ]

We will need to be swift and careful if we do not wish to be seen. It will not be long before someone comes back—

[ And there is Finn's voice, panicking yet again. ] Are you crazy?! No, I— no!

Captain, [ Spock interrupts again. ] I suggest that we do this now, if we do not wish to be discovered.

[ Jim huffs from behind the camera, taking a deep breath. ]

Alright. Let's get to it.

[ Finn's eyes widen impossibly, seen even in the dark of the room, but before he gets to say anything, the feed cuts.

Along with the video shared, there is also a text post. ]

This is a room in the Remembrance headquarters. It's kept locked at all times, with strange noises coming from it on occasion, and we decided to investigate. We had the key all along to open it, thanks to the work of another group among our own.

This what it looked like on the inside. We didn't have a lot of time to explore, but there was definitely something wrong in there. Blood, signs of torture, a broken dollhouse. An overall sense of stillness and dread.

The mannequin on the table was moving, before I shot that video. It tried to grab our throats as we picked it up. We brought it with us anyway, but we have it locked up in a room right now. It's not moving for the time being. We're not sure how to proceed from here on out, so I'll take any suggestions.

I also got my hands on a music box. The song from it was warped, and the room itself reacted strangely to it. Finn could sense something strange from it. If anyone here is sensitive to supernatural things, I could show you. It might prove useful.

We didn't have a lot of time to explore the room otherwise. A few minutes in there at best, but we didn't want to get caught, and we really wanted to get those things out of there. So we kind of had to rush. If anyone else is able to get in there and have a better look, explore more of it, I think we might be onto something.

Study the walls. there was something wrong with them.

sansdoute

( We interrupt your regularly scheduled sinister updates for a casual transmission viewable by all. A chirpy, scantily clad mademoiselle takes stage introducing, one at a time, portraits or visual footage of various dragons as she names them. )

Laaaaaaaaadiiiiiiies and gentlemen! Wait no more, wonder less, time to meet this year’s fiery dragon contenders who’ll fall head and smoulder for each other, in the latest, scaled-up season of…

DRAGON BACHELOR

DARIUS

He’s… moderately tall. Not particularly exercised. His rider… gave up after the third day of mounting. His nestmates say, ‘Bro, we all know you’re drooling, not flaming,’ and ‘His mother has to come pick up his scales every week.’ He never woke up in time for the war. He’s looking for a girl who can char his meat, keep his nest tidy, has no male dragon friends and has reeeeaaaallllll thick wing curves. He has zero aspirations, but he knows the 10,000 actual gold pieces he invested to buy an invisible magical coin token will one day rake in big.

He is Darius, and he is our… Dragon Bachelor. And he needs your help to find a bride. Although, like. Any girl would be lucky to have a nice guy like him.

( the blushing brides )

Now, viewers, you know the ropes: they say you can't be lucky in both love and money, but Dragon Bachelor is here to prove common wisdom wrong. Every fine gentleman and lovely lady can put their house-paid 10,000-coin chip forward on their pick for handsome Darius's bride. What a catch!

If the stars blink your way, and Darius chooses your guess... you earn ten times the reward. Don't forget! You can always take advantage of the cheeky virgin sacrifice option and put down the names of other prospective brides. Cast your vote, and let the best dragon gall win!

( ooc: Rules of engagement:

— every character can bet 10,000, free of charge. The house covers the first token.
— Vote here on your dragon lady of choice — remember, persuade your colleagues to vote the same way, and you increase your odds of winning! Just pitch the virtues of your preferred dragon lady.
— Alternatively, suggest a character as a 'virgin sacrifice' (virginity optional) to appease mighty Darius, and vote to get them into the next round. You can also assume a well-meaning NPC put your character's name down. Why not?
— This is open to everyone, irrespective of whether they were assigned to Eidris or Minaras. It has 0% plot bearing. Make it rain.
— You can treat this as a regular network post and threadjack to your hearts' content.

)

thedreamer

Hello, gang! ...Gang? No, not the right word. Team? Better. Do we have a name? Those of us displaced and trapped here. Well, there we are.

[ As if the semantics are really important. Moving on. ]

I'm the Doctor, if we haven't spoken yet. And if we haven't - first of all, why haven't we? Second of all, I'm very glad we are now.

[ He's moving around a lot as he talks, walking in slow circles, just restless. ]

Hearing what everyone's uncovered recently has been helpful and I believe I can add something of value to the mix.

In conversation with our caretaker in the Mouse House, Ma'am Mariol, I learned more about the plague that swept through. When the sickness struck, it fractured Serthica. Those up here believed it came from down below, the Mouse House; the first to touch anything imported, anything crossing the sea, they assumed. Prior to that, it was easier for those down below to come and go up here. Much more difficult now, nearly impossible, and so the people down there, the children, they suffer.

[ He has to note that for a moment because he will remain displeased until he can fix their situation. ]

The children we've met in the Mouse House were orphaned as a result of the sickness. All of them. To anyone's knowledge, not a single person who was infected survived. They referred to it as the coal sick; called that because an infected person's hands, toes, face would go dark, like coal dust and rot. Rot - familiar word, that one, eh?

What else - right - it infected quickly. Someone could be healthy one day and then nearly dead the next. Coughing up blood, teeth chattering, wandering back and forth to keep warm.

I hoped to ascertain how the splitting of Serthica was decided, how people were sorted, if some were exiled down below who'd previously lived in the citadels, simply for fear of spreading illness. There's at least one woman that I know of in the Mouse House, who used to live in the citadels. She receives letters from her daughter, who lives up here. Evidently, this woman ended up in the Mouse House around the time the sickness swept through, yet her daughter remains here.

Don't worry, that won't be the end of what I learn. I'm still working it out. [ He gets a bit more restless, impatient almost, pacing more urgently. ] Brain isn't working fast enough. Thinking and thinking and more thinking. I have to be careful how often I go down there, so I'm told - not that I've ever listened to that sort of thing - but if there are other questions I've missed, tell me. Maybe I'm standing too close to see everything.

Many heads are better than one, so the saying goes. Unless it's a multi-headed predator of some sort. Not the best odds, in that case, if you're the prey, though very good if you're the predator. All creatures have a right to it, though, of course, so can't judge that one. Survival of the fittest. You'd be surprised, though! A very good friend of mine, his name was Bertram; a beautiful, tiny Snorclax with a rainbow shell. He told me once he faced down a three-headed serpent wielding nothing but a pencil. [ This has nothing to do with anything at all, but that hardly matters. He just likes to tell stories and he has a captive audience. Unfortunately for the audience. ]

reparo

Since we find ourselves in a new location, and seem to have picked up some, maybe some introductions are due. I'm Hermione Granger, and I'm from England. I'm currently assigned the role of a tax collector, it's going great. [Sarcasm.] I'm sure it'll be fine - I was a modiste in Taravast, for heaven's sake...

[Quickly, a smile! Nervous, but a smile.]

What else - oh, I'm also a witch. [Which reminds her!] I'm going to start brewing potions again, since the ground isn't being rocked from side to side by the sea and the sea monster... Supplies are limited, and alternatives to the ingredients that I normally use can be weak on the ground, so I can't brew as many as I'd like. I'd ask that we all exercise some caution and not need them as much until I can get the reserves back up.

[There is a pause, as she opens her mouth to say I also don't like being treated like a child, because-] Huh. I...don't know how old I am.

[A frown, and she seems to forget that she's recording herself now, lost in her own musings:] Let's see, it was May when I come from, but was it the same month here? [To the screen, to her audience, the question:] Does this world even work in twelve months in a year? Seasons? It was quite crisp when I woke up in Taravast for the first time, maybe autumn? [And she pales.] Oh, gods, it's been almost a year...

[A shallow inhale - I want to go back home, we just ended a war, I need to see my friends, I need to grieve my friends, I need to - and a very shaky exhale. She cuts the feed off.]

inferus

( Wrath has learned a lot of shit recently after months of trying to understand and exploring many different avenues, the most important being Wen Qing's inspections of Vannozza and his own investigations. He knows he has to inform the rest of the group before he makes his next move. That is the difference between living on this mortal plane instead of within Hell itself where he has far more power. There is a group to take into consideration.

At first, the video opens with nothing but a visual of the locked, hidden room. The video lingers on the altar beds, the potions and goblets of opiates, and then the piles of servant clothing and bird feathers in the corner. )

I'm in a secret, locked room within Bonaccorso's library. The Attaryl have been lengthening the lives of the Doxe for some time. Now they work on transferring a spirit from one body to the next without killing the original body and destroying one spirit in the process, which is the current result of their experimentation.

( He is quiet, serious, jaw locked though the camera is not on him. This is an affront to Death itself - his other name. )

Their efforts have come with a clear cost. ( He keeps the video pointed toward the pile of clothing and bird feathers, and it does not change course for the remainder of the video- let them see the cost. ) Many have died in this room.

I believe they mean to transfer Bonaccorso's spirit into Vannozza's body. Her spirit feels as if it is peeling from her body. The question is what to do with this truth.

( Ultimately, Wrath is ancient and powerful, and he will go with what he feels is best because mortals are fallible, but he wants to know what the group thinks. )

Profile

h e a d east

March 2024

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
					1	2
3	4	5	6	7	8	9
10	11	12	13	14	15	16
17	18	19	20	21	22	23
24	25	26	27	28	29	30
31

Syndicate

Page Summary

thedreamer - ( audio ) | un: dollhouse
reparo - (text) (un: man's greatest treasure)
lanclan - un: average sighren, video
pulvisetumbra - un: raven master - audio | day ii
downswing - un: absterge | video
thedreamer - audio >> text >> audio | un: dollhouse (backdated to wedding day 1)
damnable - [audio] un: nah (forward-dated to the 3rd)
reparo - un: man's greatest treasure (text)
hatejakku - video; un: tin soldier & dollhouse
makemeasong - video; un: hide-and-seek
edgerun - text; un: matchsticks
strewth - un: wooden dice.
downswing - un: absterge
eternallywandering - [Text; UN: heavenly four seasons]
inferus - video. un: a_civil_serpent
winscenario - video & text; un: majortom
sansdoute - dragon... bachelor | round i
thedreamer - video | un: dollhouse
reparo - un: man's greatest treasure [video]
inferus - [video] un: a civil serpent. private network.

Style Credit

Style: Early Edition for Five AM by winterfish

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Page generated May. 29th, 2025 11:13 am

exit, stage e a s t

Entries tagged with doctor who: the doctor

( audio ) | un: dollhouse

(text) (un: man's greatest treasure)

un: average sighren, video

un: raven master - audio | day ii

un: absterge | video

audio >> text >> audio | un: dollhouse (backdated to wedding day 1)

[audio] un: nah (forward-dated to the 3rd)

un: man's greatest treasure (text)

video; un: tin soldier & dollhouse

video; un: hide-and-seek

text; un: matchsticks

un: wooden dice.

un: absterge

[Text; UN: heavenly four seasons]

video. un: a_civil_serpent

video & text; un: majortom

dragon... bachelor | round i

video | un: dollhouse

un: man's greatest treasure [video]

[video] un: a civil serpent. private network.

Profile

March 2024

Syndicate

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags