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@havexhadxwill
His smile didn’t falter.
"God... God. I think I know of God. Multiple ones, from different religions. But by the sounds of it, you're referring to the Christian beliefs. Omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, omnibenevolent. You know there's a paradox that can derived from those, but I don't remember it. Don't concern myself with paradoxes if I can help it. It's very nice to meet you"
The Deity offered her a smile. “You can call me Andrew.”
Not the answer she was quite looking for, but probably the one she deserved for such a vague question. "And what are you?"
There was a brightness that surrounded the man. Power; that was what it signified. More than the average human. More than the above average human, too. Just what was she face to face with?
"Who are you?". Plain and simple question.
((Revival time. I feel this blog has spent long enough on hiatus. Time to dust away the cobwebs and bring back my TARDIS muse. I'm sorting out drafts at the moment. Some of the things, in light of recent Doctor Who episodes, seem a little outdated, so I working on rewriting them. Can't wait to get on properly.
So that in mind, like or reblog this for a starter. Or message me to plot something. I'd be glad to do some RPing on here again!))
{ …—-! }
”Hello…”
Blue || Era Twelve
As her slender hand rises to his cheek, his own shoots up to find it. A slight chill goes over his skin, for although the touch is pleasant, he’s so unused to it his skin seems almost surprised. It makes his eyes water even more. With a sharp intake of breath, he practically launches himself at her, embracing her tightly. It’s strange, he knows her so well. She is his only constant. But yet having her in his arms is an entirely new layer of comfort.
"There’s an awful lot to remember," he says quietly. The good things can’t simply be filtered from the rest. That day in New York had begun as a dream, until it had turned into a nightmare. The very worst of nightmares. "And so much of it hurts." Closing his eyes, he rests his forehead against her shoulder. His fingers cling to her clothes. She can’t slip away from him. Not like the others. For all the fading she’s ever done in the long time they have been in each others mutual care, she has never faded from him.
For a being who was not used to someone holding her, the hug came as a surprise. A good surprise. Here, in the arms of another, comfort could be found in abundance. The tighter his grip became, the tighter hers became. Reassuring the Timelord that she did not plan on leaving. Not yet. Not ever.
However consoling someone who was so broken over the past was not an easy task. In trying to make him see a better side, she had not gotten far. Maybe, there was a small chance, that closure could work. Of course, it could not completely take away the suffering - nothing could really do that - but he may be able to reason out his guilt. The TARDIS knew many of the things he held himself accountable to were not, in fact, his fault.
"I've heard it said that talking about pain to another helps. You're holding it in, troubling yourself over the memories. I've become a good listener over the years. But now I can do more than that - I can answer"
*hugs mun* You'll make it through this. Here, have chocolate and warm blankets *gives things and another hug*
Oh my gosh, thank you so much. I'm really grateful for this.
This week has been awful. But seeing something like this really helps me because I feel I have reason to carry on.
"——Camelot, my lady. And as for when…Well, there’s no point in dwelling. You’ve clearly had too much to drink. Come, I’ll escort you home.”
"Drink? I haven't had anything to drink before - I wonder what water tastes of. I hear nothing, but I doubt that...". A pause, in which she contemplated the idea.
"It would be nice if you could escort me home, but I don't think you can. Unless you've seen a blue police box? Or a man in a bowtie running around?"
Slow To Trust // spookysoufflegirl
Clara understood what the TARDIS was trying to get across. She’d been a Time Lord in one of her lives, she knew how painful a walking talking Paradox could be. But that still didn’t make the way the TARDIS had been acting to her alright.
"Even so, there’s nothing I can do to change that. I am Clara Oswald and I am a paradox. The sooner you accept that the happier we’ll both be."
Happier? Unlikely. She had actually tried to like Clara, when she first arrived, but it couldn't be done. Something always felt wrong. If it was as easy as described, then they would already be in good terms.
"I doubt that. If I ever accept it, it won't be any time soon. In the meantime I can try to get you to leave, for any amount of time. Why do you think I hide your bedroom?"
✘ havexhadxwill ✘
[Every now and again, slow days were appreciated.]
[The Doctor kicked back in the jumpseat, feet coming up to rest on the console, and she closed her eyes.]
[Hey, she’d saved a world yesterday. She’d earned this.]
[Right?]
At first she did not wake the Doctor. The Timelady needed rest - after all yesterday had been long. Well it seemed long. Obviously it was no longer than any other, timewise. Although the TARDIS wanted to speak with her, it had been a while since she had properly sat down.
Around, lights dimmed, and the centre of the console stopped moving. An effect of being out of the phone box shell. But at least she was in the console room. If anything happened this was where she needed to be.
[ an empty space to fill in ] tardis + donna
She woke up to her lights out. Frazzled by the unexpected variety in environment, Donna had stumbled out her bed, ready to inform the Doctor of the shortcircuit in a manner she woozily hadn’t quite figured out yet was most appropriate — angrily and blaimingly, or greatly stressed and worried. Her exit, however, forced her choice to the latter. It was dark in the hallways, too. Panic dispelled the fluff of sleep, her eyes widening not only for clearer vision. The TARDIS was quiet, low of heat, and eerily, eerily empty. There was no buzz. There was no hum. There was not the feeling that the life of her left upon your skin, that grazed along the edges of your feeble human mind that couldn’t possibly encompass her. She was machine now, iron grating and plates along the wall, and she was gone. Donna pulled her arms around herself, and circled her vision about. Couldn’t be gone. TARDIS wouldn’t leave. Had to be taken — but to where?
She took a deep breath of the air. Many planets, many atmospheres, had she visited. But this seemed sweeter than most.
Probably because the TARDIS was breathing this, not contained in her box, but freely. Humanly - if there was such a word.
Then the worry kicked in. Where - when - was she? Where was her real body? Where was her Doctor? For all it was exciting to be temporarily human, it had to be temporary. Bodies this fragile couldn't hold something like the time vortex for long. Eventually it would break. It would die, and take her along with it. But that fatality wouldn't be at a human age of eighty. No, it would be quicker. As soon as the TARDIS had entered this body, it began dying more rapidly than before. Rather than decades, she had days. Maybe a week if lucky.
And why was she human? Who had put her here? Something with immense power, obviously. Able to do this without her noticing until it was too late.... Not like that was helpful. The list of suspects was endless. For all she knew, it could be something she had never even encountered before.
Right now what the TARDIS needed was to find her box. And hopefully her Doctor. Failing that, a companion.
Anyone who could help.
((Time for apologies. My TARDIS Muse has disappeared into time and space, and I have not yet located her. Its immensely frustrating because I want to do my replies. I hate knowing they are still sitting there in my drafts. And I worry about the fact they are still there. I don't want to loose this blog, nor any amazing threads I have. I attempted to write but I just couldn't, so my next attempt will be finding my Muse. Again I'm sorry for any time this takes or any inconvenience caused))
lux-signifer bewitchedrose hikaru-yeul yulechka-sokorov havexhadxwill
"Erm…"
“Hullo? Is there something that I can help you with?”
Because being in the King’s chambers, he could only imagine that the stranger was lost or looking for something. The first for which he couldn't blame them; the castle was large and… sometimes a bit disorienting.
"Hello, good morning. Or afternoon, or evening. I'm not too sure which". Without her real body, and her thief, it had become hard to judge. Especially since this was not where she expected to wake. The clothes, the custom, the city; it all pointed to around a fourteen century gap between now and then. If not more...
"Possibly. At least its not impossible - impossible isn't a good word. Like goodbye. Too... final. Have you seen a man? Bowtie, large chin, running into danger?"
Slow To Trust // spookysoufflegirl
"Prejudice; judging someone with no reason that they can control. Looking at what someone is rather than who they are,” Clara shot back, keeping her confident position. How could the TARDIS insist to not be prejudice when the evidence stacked against it so much?
She then continued to listen to what she was being told patiently, growing the littlest bit concerned at the uncertainty to the ships voice at the end, “Too what?” She prompted, deciding to make her final judgement depending on the answer to that question.
"Vast. Unexplainable. Bright. Imagine being faced with what is, essentially, a human paradox, especially when you are part of the time vortex. You're not able to make sense of what is right in front of you. How it came to be; what it is; when its going to be there. For me, time is a possible, it exists. Even if the way you measure it is different, it exists. It has existed, it will exist. I travel through it. Something passes, something allows change. It orders events, past to future. And we label it with the name of time. You are not part of this order. You exist, but don't exist". How much of this explanation made sense, the TARDIS did not know. It wasn't something she could put into words effectively, it seemed.
[ She’s talking so fast he can barely keep up, but he does manage to catch the last part, and he becomes tense almost immediately. ]
”—— Excuse me?”
She does slow down now, only because there is a chance they can come to some sort of understanding. But only if Dean can make out what is being said.
"What you're after. The vampire, I believe. I would describe it, I could describe it, I will describe it. If you help me. I need to find someone"
”——Can I help you, my lady?”
"Where am I? When am I? I seem to have misplaced myself"
Slow To Trust // spookysoufflegirl
“Cow”. There was a pause. One moment of silence before the enevitable flurry of words. “I don’t take to being called names, unless my thief calls me them. Like Old Girl, that’s always been, will be, is, my favourite. He calls you the Impossible Girl. That is the reason. You shouldn’t be impossible, you’re a human. I knew someone like you before. The human fixed point in time, the Immortal. But you probably knew that. You’ve been in my Doctor’s time stream. I’ve seen, felt, your presence before and in the future. Multiple times. Far too many times. In bad times. You shouldn’t be able to do that. You are, in basic terms, wrong”. Not in the sense of true or false. She was something wrong in the universe. A problem. A… A impossiblity. Strange how they kept coming round to that word.
Clara had been about to argue that holding a grudge for a little insult was so petty, but she was interrupted before she could start. She listened to all the Snogbox- Snogperson?- had to say, before continuing, “Is that really it?” She demanded, “After everything you’ve seen, everywhere you’ve been to, who would have thought that you’re so prejudiced?”
"Not prejudiced. Afraid-sad-angry-confused-doubtful". The string of words ran together accidentally, an overhaul of feelings in a being who had never felt so many things at once. The TARDIS had to pause for composure before carrying on. "You could undermine my existence in a moment, yet could define it in another. You are the one who told my Doctor to steal me". Sometimes she wondered if that, in itself, was a problem to her. Any of her sisters, they could have taken better care of her Doctor. It pained to her to imagine... but maybe he would have been safer that way. Maybe his strays would have been safer that way. Surely without such a wayward TARDIS, they would not wander into so much danger. No. Wrong. There was that word again, echoing around her mind. Wrong. She was wrong with that idea, wrong because the Doctor needed her. He needed the places she took him too, just as they needed him.
"I can't decide whether that was good or bad. I can't decide. I can't determine. I'm lost. And you, you are too... too....". Her eyes diverted back to the floor, unable to look at Clara any longer, unable to find the correct word to finish her sentence.
