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a multimuse rp blog a sideblog to presidentromanaofgallifrey

[ofgallifrey]

theladytre‌:

Tre smiled gently  “I’m afraid you are, darling.  Alien just means someone native to another world, and you are that.  But don’t take it too hard.  I’m not even alive, you know.”

“Clever of you, to get the system on your side so immediately,” Tre agreed.  “We were always rather good at that, even if, as you say, making friends as such isn’t foremost among our qualities.  Still–there’s Leela, and Narvin, and the Doctor.  We do rather well for ourselves, all things considered, in the long run.”

Tre sighed.  “It’s difficult to say,” she said.  “The trouble is, you see, I’m more than just an early warning system–I’m the whole safety protocol that goes with it.  I’ve been studying Pandora’s partition, you know, and it’s degraded something awful since she left it.  Of course, hers isn’t as well-made as mine, but it does suggest that a conscious intelligence is necessary to maintain such things, and even if a sort of shift system were set up, others taking turns with me to monitor the Daleks, they wouldn’t have the control I do, over the Matrix I mean–and I won’t have more Matrix constructs created just to swap in and out with me, that would be ghastly, to be so weak they had to create someone else just to suffer, and…”  

Tre realized she was babbling.  “I don’t know, Mana,” she admitted.  “That’s the plain truth.  I don’t know.”

“I suppose.” Mana said, doubtfully. She’d been thinking of the new Gallifrey as exactly like her native one in all the ways that mattered, but Tre was right, she didn’t wholly belong. If she did, there’d be no need to hide, or to cloak her identity with Tre’s illusions, or to change her name. This world already had a Romana, one who’d long since finished the business of growing up. She looked away, homesick for a world that no longer existed. 

After a few moments of thinking over Tre’s rambling, she looked up. “No one would call Omega weak for only maintaining a universe for a mere few millennia.” She pointed out. “Couldn’t the shades do it? They’re already meant to be here.” 

[ofgallifrey]

theladytre‌:

“You’re not that charming.  The Doctor wasn’t taken in for a second–and he’s susceptible to charm, especially in attractive young women.”

Tre exhaled, eyes sliding shut.  “Are you comparing me to a giant eel?” She turned up her chin, exposing it more thoroughly to Sartia’s touch.  “How terribly unromantic.”

Sartia shrugged. “I wasn’t really trying with him, he’s easy to underestimate. And I wasn’t trying to be romantic, I was being honest. It’s a novelty.” Her grip tightened around Tre’s neck, sharply and suddenly. “I’m not sure it suits me.”  

[ofgallifrey]

theladytre‌:

Sartia’s abrupt departure just when things were about to get interesting left Tre pouting, though from her current position Sartia wouldn’t be able to see.

“I think the trouble started the first time we regenerated,” Tre said.  “For one thing, there were at least two ancient and powerful entities interfering or attempting to interfere with the process, so there was a kind of… rush, that came with it, so sweet that we rode it out as long as we could, as though trying out different forms would draw out the power and the pleasure of it.  And then, within spans of that change, we met the Daleks for the first time, and–we knew something, about their significance in our future, ever since… well, ever since the day you and I met, in fact.  Since the Schism.  We went from riding death to staring in the face of it, all while stewing in the muddle of regeneration.

“So the second Romana’s relationship with death was always… skewed.  I think it’s why she reacted the way she did when you reappeared.  Her survival instincts are calibrated backwards, and the more obvious it became that you wanted to kill her, the more some part of her wanted that.  And it got worse, of course, after Etra Prime.  That turned a secret, shameful craving into a full-blown martyr complex.”

She tread water and thought carefully about what she meant.  “I’m not entirely the same as she is,” she said.  “I haven’t really lived enough to want to die, exactly.  But those roots were planted too deep to be easily weeded.”

She swam to the side of the pool and pressed her back against it, the slight feeling of being trapped by the weight of water feeling wholly appropriate for this conversation.  “I didn’t think I’d been subtle,” Tre said.  “I’m not feigning masochism to please you.  I don’t want to die, but I do want to hurt.  The thing about having a little too much control over one’s environment is, there’s a natural thrill when somebody else takes that control away.  And if the game gets a little too real, well.  I don’t think it would take, especially out here.”  She bit her lip.  “If I’m asking you not to murder anybody else, it seems unfair of me not to offer an alternative.”

Sartia listened, letting Tre talk without interruption. Her best weapon was understanding people well enough to use it against them, after all, she wasn’t going to turn down an insider’s perspective on Romana’s psychology.  

“She did seem far more willing to give me second chances than anyone with a lick of sense would have. Called me disturbed, in need of help. I credited it to my charmingly manipulative nature at the time, of course.” 

She moved in front of Tre, taking both her wrists in one hand and pinning them against the wall of the pool, while pressing against her with the weight of her body. Her free hand lingered over Tre’s neck, fingers tracing over the shape of her throat, but not tightening. 

“The sleek.” She said abruptly. “They thought it their god, gave it power over them, and were going to let it devour us. When I killed it, that was the feeling I’d been searching for. We had no control over our childhoods, but you were the important one, the one adults were lining up to foist their destinies on.” She smiled. “In that cave, holding that staser, I realised I was the most important person in its life. Its killer.” 

[ofgallifrey]

theladytre‌:

“There are quite enough Romanas in politics,” Tre agreed, “and once your universe of origin becomes known–which I’m sure it will someday–it’s a field where that information would likely be limiting.  No opponent worth their salt would fail to make the argument that you weren’t eligible for office, whether or not there’s any precedent for excluding people based on their universe of origin.  Anyway, better to aim for a field where it won’t be an issue, and one where you’d be happier anyway.”

Tre nodded an acknowledgment.  “Understandable that your reactions would be less strong when you’ve only interacted with reproductions.  Almost every sort of art is vastly more impactful in person.  Whether or not you manage to convince Narvin on the Academy, I ought to arrange you some off-world field trips.  There’d be no danger to you in, say, wandering around the Grand Gallery on Androzani Major for a day, or stopping in at the Globe or the Opera Garnier on Earth.  It’s not renegade activity if you’re friends with the Coordinator of the CIA.”

Tre smiled sadly.  “Often,” she said.  “I do understand people better than most Romanas–but not well enough to make them… not as well as I’d like to.  With just a little more social acuity I would look effortlessly charming, and a little less would make me seem sincere, but as it is I come off as manipulative exactly when I’m trying hardest to please.”

Mana frowned. She might not have any interest in being the second President Romana, but it was disconcerting to think that she might very well be treated differently in her new universe. “It’s not like I’m an alien.” 

She smiled slightly “I’d like that.” Far better than another near-identical day of self-directed studying, even if she was yet to be convinced by art. “The wonders of nepotism.” She might be naive, but there were some realities of the world it was impossible not to notice, especially growing up in Heartshaven. 

“I was never very good at making friends either.” She said, nodding in sympathy. “Maybe no Romanas are. Until I had to be on my own, I didn’t realise how boring life is without other people, but if I do get to go back, I’ll probably be complaining about them again soon. Won’t you ever be able to leave the Matrix?” 

[ofgallifrey]

coordinatrix‌:

Narvin had never thought of herself as the kind of person who Gets Along With Children, but she had to admit that Mana’s earnestness was terribly endearing.  “If you say so, my Lady,” she said, with a smile.

Narvin laughed.  “The Patrexi Academy isn’t quite as cut-throat, but if I know anything of Prydonians, I suspect most of your classmates would call that the worst threat of all.”

She blinked, not liking the sound of all that in the slightest.  “I think I’m missing some important context.  Is there someone in this universe who you suspect is a threat to others?”

Mana grinned. “They would, but they’d get over it. I’m not planning on a career in politics, they can fight over internships all by themselves.” 

She looked away for a second, uncomfortable, before meeting Narvin’s eyes. “It’s just a hypothetical.” She said quickly. “A creative hypothetical.” Mana didn’t like lying to her, and she wasn’t sure she was any good at it- the CIA had to be specially trained to notice that sort of thing- but it was a more personal dilemma than the matter of her schooling. 

[ofgallifrey]

coordinatrix‌:

“Politicians will argue anything if it suits their cause–whether or not they believe it, and whether or not it’s patently absurd, up to and including the notion that an adolescent Time Lady might be considered in the light of a nefarious threat.”  Narvin rubbed her neck.  “I should know, I suppose.  I’ve said not dissimilar things about actual alien young people being sent to the Academy.  Which either means I’m a hypocrite, or that I’m growing as a person.  I don’t know which of those sounds worse.  But if it helps–you are a Gallifreyan to me, my Lady.”

Narvin raised an eyebrow, even as a little smile wriggled over her lips.  “I don’t pretend that philosophy is my area of expertise, but I can try.”

Mana’s first instinct was that it was a little different with aliens, just natural to be guarded around them, but something about how strongly Tre had felt about them, and this Leela specifically, made her question that. 

Was it? She was alien to this universe. Their two Gallifreys seemed near-identical, but that hadn’t been a given. If hers had been unique in more than just its early demise, if it had had an entirely different culture, a different way of life, a different language even, would that have made her inherently dangerous to this Gallifrey? “The latter is definitely better.” She said, after a moment’s thought.

She smiled a little. “Thanks. If it helps, the only plan I have is to beat everyone in my decade and graduate with a triple first.” 

“Well, the books talk a lot about moral quandaries, and I don’t know what approach to take to them. If you know someone has a high probability of growing up to be a murderer, or otherwise bad for the universe, but they haven’t done anything wrong yet, and they’re in danger, is the right thing to help them or to let them die?” She hesitated. “Does it change things if you could save someone else instead, who only has the average chance of being terrible?” 

[ofgallifrey]

coordinatrix‌:

Narvin frowned, considering.  “I can’t like the precedent it sets,” she said, “and if the Lady President ever did find out, she’d be furious about it, I’m sure.  It looks very bad, for the Coordinator of the CIA to approve a fraud perpetrated against our own people on behalf, arguably, of a foreign agent.” 

She sighed.  “But I do like the idea of you being able to go to school,” she conceded.  “To be around people your own age.  Let me think on it a while?”

Narvin was surprised, though perhaps she shouldn’t have been, by how much she wanted to ask Ingrid about it–not for the pleasure of the Cardinal’s company, but for placing genuine value on her opinion.  How absolutely appalling.

Mana blinked. “Foreign agent? That makes it sound like I have some evil masterplan.” She said, amused. “I never thought I’d have to worry about not being Gallifreyan enough.” 

She nodded. She didn’t want to get Narvin into trouble either, but she couldn’t help asking when it seemed the only way out of her isolation. “Of course. It’s a big decision.” 

Her other dilemma required subtlety- she was sure if she presented the whole thing Narvin would be completely against it, and while it wouldn’t necessarily stop her from doing it anyway, she didn’t need to feel any more guilty about it. “Can I ask you some questions? I’ve been studying philosophy, but it’s not very good at actually giving the answers.” 

[ofgallifrey]

coordinatrix‌:

“Oh,” Narvin said.  As a graduate of the Patrexi Academy, having grown up surrounded by artists of all sorts but without the slightest interest in literature herself, Narvin knew better than to ask a writer what their latest work was about.  “Well, that sounds a very sensible way to fill your hours.”

Narvin suspected trouble from the moment Tre entered the conversation.  “I’m not in favor, as a rule,” she said, suspicious.  “What does she mean to do?”

Mana hesitated, thinking through her words. “She’s connected to everyone’s minds through the Matrix, so she said she could convince everyone that I’ve always been a student at the Academy, and they just wouldn’t think about it too hard. I’d have to use a different name and avoid the President, but I can’t imagine she goes there personally a lot.” 

“I know it’s bad to mess with people’s minds, but she wouldn’t be doing anything terrible to them. It just sounds like really advanced lying.” Which there certainly wasn’t a shortage of in the Capitol, but she knew that didn’t automatically make it right. 

[ofgallifrey]

coordinatrix‌:

Narvin’s mind had been too much occupied with other matters (certainly not with the Lady Cardinal, certainly not, for all that these were her rooms) to hear exactly what Mana had been saying.

“You needn’t feel ashamed about talking to yourself,” she said, with a smile for Mana.  “We all do it, from time to time, and you’ve more excuse than most.”  Narvin took a seat in the opposite armchair, on the other side of Ingrid’s study (which, for the number of books it contained, probably deserved the title of ‘library’).  “How are you today?”

“I was making a story,” Mana admitted, safe in the knowledge that Narvin hadn’t actually processed the words, “but it’s secret.”  

The honest answer to that was too complicated, since it included it turns out my dead best friend was destined to try to murder me, so she shrugged it off.  “I’m fine, I’ve been talking to Tre lots lately- I was hoping you’d come by, actually, because she made an offer. Whether you’ll approve depends on what you think about... mass psychic trickery?” 

[ofgallifrey]

Romanadvoratrelundar, scion of Heartshaven, inheritor of House Dvora, custodian of House Everstone, President of Gallifrey in many a timeline, was spending her afternoon recording a piece of fiction. 

The protagonist just happened to be eerily similar to her, and was facing a predicament reminiscent of her own, with a failing universe and a planet full of daleks. Except in this narrative, Treundar hadn’t needed saving, on account of her quick thinking, intellectual prowess, and an unexplained power or two.  

Mana jumped at the sound of the door opening, trailing off mid-sentence. Her hearts sunk as she saw just who had walked in on her, and she ducked her head, embarrassed. The Romanas that Narvin usually dealt with had far better things to do with their time than tell stories. She stopped the recording, looking almost guilty. “Coordinator, I, ah, didn’t know you were coming today.” 

She’d have felt much better about it, had she known that K-9 could attest to the opposite and that Romana’s skill with storytelling hadn’t really grown much over the centuries. 

@coordinatrix

[ofgallifrey]

theladytre‌:

“We always did have Arcalian tendencies.  Embrace them, by all means, now father can’t tell you ‘no.’  And you needn’t blame your piloting skills, though you’d have had every excuse for error in that regard.  The universe you’re in now–its walls aren’t strong.  Far more experienced pilots than yourself have ended up there without meaning to.  A bit like bumping against a wall only to discover it’s made of paper, and tumbling through unceremoniously, I suppose.”

Tre frowned decidedly, pursing her lips into a prim expression of disapproval.  “I’ll not have you growing up a philistine,” she said, “which will happen if you spend too much time around Narvin.  There’s no one less Patrexi than an ex-Patrex.  Fine craftsmanship is admirable it itself, and you ought to learn to recognize it when you see it, but true art is an enchantment, Romanadvoratrelundar, the nearest thing to magic this universe holds.  A piece of art is a person voluntarily excising a portion of their soul and preserving it for eternity, and if you can’t see the astonishment of that, I don’t know what they thought they were teaching you in your universe.”  Tre sniffed.  “That said, I agree with you about history,” she added, in intentional anticlimax, and settled her own ruffled feathers.

“A good grounding is essential,” Tre agreed, “but do try not to convince yourself that you ever know everything.  That does always seem to get us into trouble.”

Mana nodded. “I know politics is more... Prydonian, but I can see the downsides of that first-hand. And I wouldn’t want a career defined by my double.” 

She tilted her head, unprepared for the strength of Tre’s feelings on the matter. “Well, seeing more of it in person rather than reading art history might help. But... it’s important because it makes people feel things, yes? No piece has made me feel much of anything yet, but I’ll admit I haven’t seen enough to be much of an authority on the subject.” 

“Has it ever gotten you into trouble?” She asked. “It must be tempting to think so, when you have all of the Matrix’s knowledge at your fingertips too.” 

[ofgallifrey]

theladytre‌:

Tre smiled a sad little smile.  Romanas trap other Romanas in this place, and no one in your universe would miss you.  The fact that you are safe as long as my self-control holds means only so much, little girl.  As I told you–my sanity isn’t what it was.

“And very nicely too,” Tre said, settling back in her armchair, cradling her mug in her hands.  “Tell me about your studies, Romanadvoratrelundar. Are they different, your lessons, in this new universe?”

Mana set her mug down, oblivious to Tre’s darker thoughts. “I’ve been focusing on the sciences and mechanics- if I need to fly a TARDIS again in an emergency it would be preferable to not accidentally jump universes again. Do you know how I did that? It’s not covered fully in any of the manuals.” 

“History’s interesting too, and the Cardinal has books that none of the libraries I’d been in before would ever have, all about aliens and art.” She hesitated, lowering her voice. “Don’t tell Ingrid, but I don’t see the point of art much and none of them will be any use for the Academy syllabus, but other planets can be fascinating. I don’t know if they’re interesting enough that I’d become a renegade to see them, though.” 

“It’s a lot of work, but if I get the harder parts of knowing things out of the way now, then I can seem effortlessly smart when I’m older- all my older selves seem to be. And graduate early. Heartshaven is good at teaching deferred gratification, I suppose.”  

[ofgallifrey]

leelaofthesevateem‌:

“It is because we do not always want to that we all ought to see one another.  We are sharing this space, whether we like it or not.  The more we get used to that, the less painful it will be.”

Leela pressed her lips tight.  “I have said that I am not going to talk with you about Romana,” she said, keeping her eyes fixed on the pond and the fowl.  “You have killed her once.  Is that not enough of revenge?”

“It wasn’t about revenge, she was trying to kill me!” She hissed, some part of her distantly aware that Leela hadn’t fully earned her sudden anger, but it was easily ignored. 

“Do you think I enjoyed it, any of it? I didn’t know what was happening, no one told me the Madam President had gone half-mad. By the time I could even think she was already dead, and now I’m stuck here, with the rejects of a dozen timelines, and get to learn my survival was some stupid fluke. Maybe you’re right, maybe I should have just died that day, what use am I to any of you?” 

Andred turned away, stalking down the hill, the birds long since spooked away. 

[ofgallifrey]

leelaofthesevateem‌:

“Being used to it does not mean it is the best thing for you.  Coming together to share a meal, or to cook one, is the only time some of us see one another.  It is a way I can… contribute.  To this place.”

Leela settled herself back into a good position, re-loading her bow with a fresh bolt.  “Yes,” she said, trying not to look at Andred.  “Sometimes.”

“Because putting us all in the same room could never go wrong. If we all wanted to see one another, we could.” 

“I did too.” She said quietly, watching Leela’s prey. “Your husband and I have a lot in common.” She bit her lip, unable to help her jealousy. “Has Romana ever? Torn herself away from her dusty office to put herself in your world, voluntarily?” 

[ofgallifrey]

theladytre‌:

Tre couldn’t help a little laugh at the question.  “I wouldn’t ask her–but one of the reasons she likes you is that you’d even think to ask her permission.  Go ahead, by all means, if you think it’s necessary.”

Tre bit her lip.  “No, darling,” she said.  “I married her in a way that Gallifrey wouldn’t even recognize, just because I wanted to.  Which, as I say, is one of the reasons I’m no kind of a role model.  

“Romanadvoratrelundar, your naivete is extremely charming and endearing, but you’re going to have to grow up very fast, much younger than you ought to have to, because the universe has been rather cruel to you.  You’ve made allies, important ones–with Brax and Narvin and me behind you, you’ve got a chance, anyhow–but that doesn’t mean you can afford to trust blindly.  Start questioning people’s motives.  Start trying to see what we’re trying to hide.  I’m three-quarters a madwoman, angel, and that doesn’t stop being dangerous just because I’m on your side.”  Tre took a bite of crumpet, and materialized a dainty lace-edged napkin to wipe butter and crumbs from her lips.  “You’re accidentally in the middle of politics now, and that means that quite literally everyone is trying to use everybody else.  What you have to decide is which people are using you in ways that are mutually beneficial, and which in ways that help them but hurt you.”

Mana nodded. “I will.” 

She blinked, giving what she’d said serious thought. Tre wanted company, that much she knew, and if she was as dangerous as she claimed to be, maybe the danger was she could trap someone, and force them to ease her loneliness.  

“Then you’re the first one.” Mana said, sure that if she could trust anyone it would be herself. She didn’t have enough of a past to have been betrayed by it, yet. “You’re not hurting me, and you’re helping me more than I am you. All I can do is talk to you.” 

Emotional acuity might not be her strongest suit, but she suspected that might be all Tre really wanted. Her own isolation was a lot less total, but she already knew the boredom that came with it, the want for intellectual stimulation that soon felt as dire a need as water and shelter. 

She could see how that could drive someone to desperate acts, but Tre hadn’t ever violated her free will. Being... generous, even if was partly or fully motivated by the hope it would make the other person socialise with her more, that didn’t seem at all nefarious, just natural. After all, her obedience to Narvin could be said to be a variation on the same; her life these days did seem to depend on how much Coordinators of the CIA liked or disliked her. 

[ofgallifrey]

theladytre‌:

Tre sighed quietly.  The Romana stubbornness, as usual. 

“I’ll tell you what,” she said.  “Take a week, sweeting.  Heaven knows you’ve time.  I’ll give you access to whatever files you like.  Look into other Sartias, look into those anonymous cousins, look into the futures of various Romanas and the people they meet–and then decide.  You’re fond of Narvin, aren’t you?  Consider the Narvin from your own universe.  We could take him early in his timeline, even, let the two of you grow up together.  Watch some footage of other Romanas and their Leelas–heaven knows that a Leela of your own age would probably be no less likely to kill you than Sartia, at first, but once the shock had worn off, it would be–oh, it would be so good to see how high she could fly, if given the same opportunities that we had.  She could be one of the first class of visiting students at the Academy, that would be so good.”  Tre sighed wistfully, and twirled her finger in the steam rising from her hot chocolate, twining it into an artful little curl. 

“But if,” she conceded, “at the end of that week, if it’s still Sartia you want–so be it.  As I said, I’m not… immune to her myself.”  Would it be corrupting a minor to admit one or two things?  “…I married her once,” Tre said, reluctantly.  “It wasn’t a good idea, but it was… fun.  At the time.  But don’t be like me, angel, I’m not much of a role model.  Especially in matters of romance.”

Mana nodded, finding that more than fair, and was quite excited at the thought of such Matrix privileges. “Thank you.” She said, taking another sip of hot chocolate, beginning to like it more than tea. “Should I ask Narvin about the Academy part? Do we need her permission?”

She wasn’t fazed by Tre’s admission, though that perhaps was owed to the fact her only model for marriage was the entirely political kind. “You made an alliance of your Houses? I bet she liked that. She wanted to be a Heartshaven, that much I did know.” 

“I think you’re a good role model.” She said, guilelessly. “You’re part of the biggest information repository in the universe, that’s like being an archivist but better. And Narvin likes you better than the President.” 

[ofgallifrey]

theladytre‌:

Tre winced.  However mixed her feelings about other Romanas, it hurt her that every Romana seemed so eager to blame herself for Sartia’s attempts at murder–especially this child.

“No,” Tre said.  “You didn’t do something awful.  Sartia did, because she’s jealous and angry–and a sadistic psychopath.  She likes to see people hurt, Mana.  She likes it most when it’s us.  If you want to be generous, you can think of it as a sickness to be pitied, but it’s never your fault.”

Tre shook her head.  “Romanas are a mixed bag,” she said.  “The vast majority of them do some terrible things, and as many or more exceptionally good things–in other words, we’re people, as fallible and lovely as people tend to be.  There are saintly Romanas and cruel Romanas in the multiverse, but not many of either.  Sartias, on the other hand–I don’t know any who have never done murder, and for selfish reasons besides.  I wouldn’t do to a young Sartia what Vansell tried to do to you, but if you’re going to save one other person from your universe, there are others so much more deserving.”

Mana looked away. Now that she thought about it, she could see something toxic in the way Sartia had acted like they were both of a different calibre to their peers, both making her feel special and isolated. She didn’t think the latter had been her intention, not yet, but maybe that had been the early beginnings of a trajectory that ended with what Tre had shown her. 

It was selfish, to still want to risk saving her over a stranger, but she couldn’t control her desires, or counter the stubborn belief she suddenly had that she could do what Tre considered impossible, or at least, highly unlikely. 

“For anyone else, I’d have the same problem as you.” She said, quietly. “My cousins all had the same level of interest in me, I don’t know what they were really like.” 

“The universe I’m in now is full of futures and doubles, and knowing the future usually changes it, doesn’t it? If there’s any world where we could both grow up to be someone very different, isn’t it there? And... if she made the same choices again, I’d stop her, before she could hurt anyone else." Mana said, with all the solemnity of someone making an oath. “Please, Tre?”