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Old 11-28-2013
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Jesse Wales Jesse Wales is offline
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Default The Joctor Adventures - Mother?

A/N: Moisturize me.

Slouching haphazardly in the cushioned throne, propping her feet up, Jesse sighed heavily, huffing out in boredom. The handmaidens at her side continued to cool her with palm tree branches, fanning the the long limbs slowly up and down. At least, there were grapes. Talking about those fruity globes, Daphne, a lovely girl, held the cluster to her mouth again, popping another one into her mouth. The Writer had given up protesting not only against that but the whole entire arrangement. They wouldn't listen. You would think that if they worshiped her, obedience would be their main concern.

The door to the temple's throne room opened, a guard allowing in a certain bicardial alien sans his bow-tie and accompanying accessories. Instantly, she perked up, feet dropping to the floor as she straightened in the seat. The Time Lord confidently strode in wearing a simple, rather drab tunic, observing the whole interior expanse and its occupants. Eying the two guards standing inside by the doors, he lightly stepped up to her throne, sinking to his knees and bowing after a final glance at the maids surrounding her. The girls giggled into their hands at this handsome, young-looking stranger. Jesse rolled her eyes at their growing crushes, a small smile growing on her face.

He glanced up at her, flashing a cheeky smirk, his hair shrouding part of his face. “Your Godliness,” he greeted mock respectfully, though she was the only one who knew that.

She snorted, standing as regally as she could, mustering enough authority to clap twice in dismissal. The handmaidens bowed before scampering out. However, the guards did not move. The Writer turned to them. “May I have a moment to consult with my Doctor?” Her tone left no room for argument.

They glanced at each other before nodding, bending respectfully at the waist momentarily before marching out. A surprised, shrill whistle sounded behind her. The twelve hundred year old was already rising to his feet by the time she swiveled back around.

“Did I say you could rise?” she teased sternly, framing her hips with her hands. His smirk was still in place as he drew close and pecked her on the forehead quickly, resting his prominent chin on her hair between the now visible feline ears as he wrapped her in a tight hug. She returned the gesture.

“Hello to you too,” he shot back.

She chuckled, stepping away and taking in his new clothing. “Nice outfit, Theta.”

The alien scowled at that, reaching subconsciously for his missing bow tie. “Thanks to you,” he retorted sarcastically, hand falling back to his side. “Did you have to say I was your immortal servant and escort?”

She shrugged, dropping back into her throne in a sprawled position. “What else was I supposed to say? I had to think up something that would allow you to be within breathing distance of me.” She glared up at him as he rounded the seat, gazing down. “Anyways, don't pin this one on me. This is your fault.”

“My fault. How?”

“Whose sonic screwdriver broke?”

“Who turned me into a kitten?”

She huffed stubbornly, ending the argument but not accepting the blame happily. “Whatever. So, what's your plan?”

“Well--”

She held up a finger, silencing him before he could continue. “If you say it's a thing in progress, I will slap you.”

He shifted away in case she was serious. “Fine. I don't have one...yet,” the Time Lord admitted. “Did you have to go and get yourself mistaken for a goddess?”

“It's every girls' dream,” she responded sarcastically, edging over as he tried to balance on the armrest of the royal seat. “You know we can just make a run for it.”

“But...”

“...we have to figure out what's up with the cats and the cat people,” she finished, sighing. Of course, they did.

He nodded solemnly, his thinking face already set firmly in place. She watched him curiously, trying to guess what thoughts were going on in that brilliant mind of his. He caught her staring, grinning coyly. “Enjoying the view?” he inquired mockingly.

She shrugged off the embarrassment. “It's not bad.” Jesse moved into a more comfortable position, leaning a bit away. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I'm trying to narrow down the list of possible species,” he said distractedly.

“Number?” Hopefully, it wasn't too large.

“Ah...a little over five hundred.”

She winced. Of course, it was. There goes that idea. “Feline?”

“Already factored in. Where's my penny?”

“I'll give it to you later.”

He smiled before concentrating on the task at hand. “When they were taking you, did you notice anything odd or unique that can help me narrow it down?”

“Oh, you mean when I was being kidnapped?” She stuck her tongue out at his unamused expression. “Yes, I did. I was being snatched by cat people. That's pretty odd and unique.”

“Jesse.”

Ooh...his no nonsense tone. She smirked to herself, pushing a strand of nonexistent hair behind her ear out of habit. “Fine. They were strong. I mean really strong.”

“Four hundred and fifty three,” he blurted out instantly, his mind racing at a speed far faster than her and the rest of her species. “Continue.”

She scrunched up her face, thinking. “They could purr. Not all felines can.”

“Remember, you can't judge them based off your experience with cats, different origins, but four hundred and two. Anything else?”

“I felt sleepy like it was lolling me to sleep...or at least, to compliance.”

“Three hundred and twenty six.” He paused as something occurred to him. “Are you sure it was the purring? Did you smell anything?”

She thought hard, trying to remember. “There may have been a faint, sweet scent.” She glanced at him again. “Why?”

“Pheromones. That would explain all the cats. You're letting off some yourself.” He started rambling to himself. “One hundred and four. It's still too high. Give me something else. I need something else.”

He was poking repeatedly at his temples with his medius fingers, revealing him to be in a frantic state of mind, something she recognized from his post regeneration scene in “The Eleventh Hour” and a few other moments throughout his run.

Usually, that would fascinate Jesse immensely, impelling her to study the manifested limbic system (if he had one) stress indicator, but she was too busy stuck on something else. Something far more interesting to her at the present moment. “I'm what?”

The Doctor looked at her, confused by her confusion. “You're what what?” He backpedaled in his head, reflecting on what had slipped from his mouth as he thought out loud. “Are you talking about the pheromones?” When she nodded, he massaged his nose bridge in impatience. “Naturally, all primates, even humans, ooze pheromones like every other animal, but right now, yours are a mixture between ape and cat,” the Time Lord quickly explained, trying to get back to the present issue as fast as possible. They didn't know how much time they had. “Now, anything else?” he urged.

“I'm not an ape,” she stated firmly, scowling but moving on. “Um...there were more than one?”

He scratched his cheek, ruminating. “Yes, I noticed that. They work together. Fifty two! Good! Good. That's much better. And wait! They speak an Earth language oddly enough, meaning they have studied this planet!” He sounded excited before his face fell. “Hold on. None of the species I have in mind can.”

Frowning, she contemplated on why she couldn't be more helpful. “Wait...” An image flashed in her mind's eye as she thought back to when she had been shoved away into the woman's arms, slowing down the image. “I-I...think.”

Something green flashed past her eyes. She blinked, refocusing on the Doctor's concerned gaze. “On his arm, inside his sleeve, there was this...emerald band. About three or four inches up. It looked like circuitry...or chips.”

“Circuitry,” the lonely alien muttered, eyes lightening up as he pieced something together. “Oh..oh oh. Yes. Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!” He beamed at her, smacking the first kiss shared since stepping out of the TARDIS on her lips, cupping her face for a second before he was just a whisper of contact on her skin. The real him was already making for the door. “Absolutely, positively brilliant!”

Recovering rapidly, she sprung up. “Hold on! You!” He halted, looking back at her. “Yes, you! Freeze for like...one second.” She made her way down to him quickly, planting herself in front of the impatient Time Lord. “What was that?”

“One species. Just one out of the list has that kind of technology. Just one. And that was brilliant because you saw it. That little band you saw was a SUT. Sepian Universal Translator. Created by Cariculaternio Sepian, a 41st Century inventor. Nice fellow. Had a small lisp. Prone to irrational panic over the word 'chicken' or 'cluck.' Now that I think of it, something wasn't quite right about him.”

He paused to take a breath, missing Jesse's amused smile. “Anyways, the point is you are brilliant,” he repeats, bopping her nose. “And we now know who we are dealing with. Hation Defilus from the planet, Defilustite.”

“At least, it's not Raxacoricofallapatorius,” she joked. “Or Clom.”

He snorted, no longer surprised by all she knew. He had grown used to knowing that he and his life were just stories to her. Entertainment for all ages. Oh, if only he knew that was so far from the truth.

“True,” he agreed, reflecting back to his past regenerations, the moments spent trying to teach his pink and yellow human how to pronounce that planet's ridiculously long name or when he just said the name for sake of it.

There was a moment's pause before Jesse sighed. “I bet you're just waiting for me to ask you whom are the Hasun Def-somethingortheother.”

He grinned, shameless despite being caught. “That's a fair wager...it wouldn't hurt. And it's Hation Defilus.”

Breathing out slowly, eyes sliding shut in exasperation, she let a instance pass before yielding. Her eyes opened to the sight of him bouncing impatiently before her. It does not matter how old he was; he was still a child. Snorting, she asked, “What are the Hation Defilus?”

“Glad you asked!” She shook her head as he started on another one of his tangents. “What's fascinating about the Hation Defilus is that they are, of course, a feline species. They're an advanced, colonizing race, inhabiting various planets. They're peaceful unless threatened or attacked. That should make it easy. I'll just ask them to leave. Good...unless they feel threatened. Not good,” he cupped his mouth, pacing as she watched him think. “Anyways, for such an advanced, outreaching, interstellar people, they are still monarchical society, needing to be ruled by a queen. A bit like Great Britain during its expansion period. When they populate other planets, they disguise themselves, mimicking the locals' appearances. On rare occasions, they would attempt to conquer the planet or create a joint bureaucracy, but as I said...rarely. And apparently, Earth was next. What is it with you humans?”

“Don't ask me,” she protested when he wheeled on her. “So, we just ask them to leave?” Would it really be that easy?

He hummed, thoughts moving the speed of light, dismissing idea after idea. “We can try. Yes, yes. We can ask. It'll be fine. Perfectly fine. Through and done. Easy peasy. Easy as cake. I like cake.”

Jesse stared blankly at him, unfazed by the erratic behavior she had watched so many times. This was a hyper, frenzied regeneration. “You're lying.”

“Of course, I am,” he snapped, his repetitive striding wilder. “When is anything that easy? I'd love if it was. Maybe it will be. Let's just try, shall we?” Instantly, the Doctor was heading for the door, dead set on ending this now.

“Wait!”

He swiveled around to face her again, cross. “What now?”

She stared back coolly, hands on hips. “You are forgetting something.” For a genius, he was pretty oblivious.

“Which is?” he shot back.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I don't know. Bast,” she pointed at herself, cat ears twitching. “Her immortal servant,” she added, gesturing at the Time Lord, whom's eyes widened.

“Oh, that. Hmm...”

---

The man faced the seated council from his position at the head of the desk, his slitted eyes scanning their faces. He had ear length, jet black hair and tanned skin, the same man that had grabbed Jesse earlier. Hands folded, he regarded all in front of him with an emotionless gaze, receiving the same in return, focuses unwavering.

The woman, a brunette with curly hair, seated by him spoke up, “Is it the lost princess found at last?” The other muttered quietly among themselves, excited or anxious at the prospect.

The leader cleared his throat, a slight purr under toning the sound, silencing the room. “Unlikely,” he hissed. “I smell the stink of human on her, and it's not from her male companion. Though the attributes of an Earth feline is puzzling, she is nothing to us.”

Another male leaned forward, propping against the table. “Why call attention to her? You could have exposed us to the Earthlings, Kabosh.”

Kabosh, as his name seemed to be, had a quick response. “The male is not one of them. I was uncertain at first, but I believe him to be a...Time Lord.”

There was a resounding spread of hisses of surprise and shock, each looking at the other. Could this be true?

“Impossible,” another woman retorted, disbelief coloring her tone. Her name was Lita, the daughter of a Hation Defilus noble.

Sidra, the first woman to speak up, cocked her head in thought. “There have been...rumors that one survived...the Oncoming Storm...the Bringer of Darkness...Destroyer of Worlds. It goes by the name of the Doctor, ironically, but they are only rumors. You cannot truly believe that these...whispers are true, can you?”

“Maybe not,” Kabosh replied. “But, if he is indeed a Lord of Time, a genuine Gallifreyan, what a find he would be. The power of time and space at our hands. Surely, a Time Lord would not be so far from his Time Capsule. Of course, we would need him to pilot the ship. If we could use the female to draw him out, we can capture him. They'll always be at close hand.” He smirked. “These humans won't let their gods wander too far without a few sacrifices and feasts. We'll get him. Besides, we'll be doing the universe a favor if the stories are accurate. Maybe we'll be honored as heroes.”

“What of the girl?”

He scoffed, caring not the least. “She's a trivial hindrance. We don't need her,” he rubbed his chin, entertaining a rather an ingenious idea. “She'll fetch a fair price on the market. As a servant or concubine.”

A few laughs resonated among the gathering, already celebrating their turn of fortune since their ship had crashed on this miserable rock. The youngest female, a daughter of a blacksmith and an engineer, eyes wide under a sandy fringe, rose, excusing herself before making her way out.

---

The young woman pushed the doors open slowly, gathering the attention of all the occupants of the courtyard. The room fell silent as people fell to their knees, bowing respectfully. Jesse nodded at them, followed close behind by her “immortal servant and escort.”

“Now, just wa--”

She cut him off, whispering back fiercely. “I know the plan. I made the plan. Now, shut up.” Knowing their luck, his jabbering would get them in more trouble than needed.

One of her temporary handmaids scurried up, bending within a foot of her, “Our Mother, Mighty Bast. How may I serve you?”

Her eyes widened comically, ignoring the snickering Time Lord. Mother? Covering up the foolish slip of her facade, she cleared her throat. “Um...you may stand.”

The girl, for that was what she was, younger than her, rose quickly. “Yes, Mother.”

“Where are the...folks that had revealed me? Can you bring me to them?” She added, “And don't call me, Mother.”

“Yes, Honored One,” the girl quickly replied, looking apologetic for her “mistake” and a bit terrified because of it, and bowed shortly. “Follow me...please.”

The two travelers started after the girl, but when Jesse saw the guards following, she stopped abruptly, holding up a hand towards them. “Um...no. Uh uh. Nope.” She felt a slight, sharp jab of an elbow in her back. “I mean...we are not in need of your services. My escort is in charge of my affairs, including protection, not that I need such a task to be enacted, but, either way, you are dismissed.”

The men bowed, stepping back at her firm command.

Warm breath fanned the back of her neck as the Doctor muttered to her, “You're getting better at this. I hope you aren't getting any ideas.”

She smirked playfully without looking back at him, breathing out her nose softly. “You're standing a wee bit too close for my personal assistant.”

His laugh was airy as he stepped back, the two trailing behind the young maiden. “I thought I was your 'immortal servant.'”

“What can I say? You've been promoted.”

Their moment was disrupted when the girl halted her progression. “In here, Honored One,” she announced, gesturing toward a set of closed doors. “What else may I do for you?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she responded, distracted as she listened to the muffled voices from the other side. The words were incomprehensible. The Writer's attention shifted back to the girl. “What is your name?”

“Kalika, Honored One. My friends call me Kal.” Kalika's, or Kal's, eyes grew wide, and she started to fumble over her words, hurrying to cover up. “Not that you are my friend. Nor was that important. I am sorry, Hon--”

“No, it's fine...Kal.” She smiled at the startled girl, stepping lightly on the alien's foot as he snorted. “Thank you. You may go. Oh, and call me...”

She looked at the Doctor for help, whom just gave her a “don't-look-at-me” face. She shook her head, facing the girl again. “...Jesse. That's what my friends do.” She winked at the shell-shocked girl, holding an index finger to her lips. “Now, if you would excuse us...”

Kalika nodded hurriedly, half-bowing, half-curtsying before dashing off with a huge grin on her face.

---

Three sharp, booming knocks echoed through the conference room, drawing all eyes to the thick, wooden doors. Without waiting for a response, they swung open, revealing a goddess and her immortal servant/assistant/companion/Doctor standing in the doorway.

“Hello, mates.”
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  #102  
Old 12-16-2013
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Default Chaper 292: Live

"I'll do it," Rebecca said. She didn't think about it. She didn't really have to think about it, since she knew that there was no other option.
And it was probably best not to think about it, since, apart from the impending threat of hungry Massie attack, there were also definitely Greenskins, giant spiders, Shadow Wolf thugs, Disciples werewolves, Undead, mercenaries, and heaven only knew what else in those woods. And Rebecca knew better than most what sort of dangerous things lurked in the Disciples-verse. It wasn't exactly a happy vacation spot with a happy little tire swing, even without Massie-who-might-become-a-hollow. "Just tell me exactly what you want me to do. Should I just walk along the trees there? You're the mastermind. Whatever you say, I'll do it."

Rebecca watched Lassiter 37 and Very Wrong Juliet closely for their reactions.
She had to admit that she got much more enjoyment than she should have out of irritating Very Wrong Juliet. She didn't really know why, and she hadn't started out trying to get on Juliet's bad side, but things had sort of worked out that way, and as long as it didn't interfere with everything else, Rebecca really didn't care about this Juliet's opinions. She knew that the Juliet she knew liked her, and beyond that, she didn't feel like anyone's opinions mattered that much as long as they all got back alive.
Lassiter, though; she didn't know what to make of him. At all. So she didn't think about it. There would be plenty of time to process later, and boy, did she need to process. But he didn't seem to react very much to what she had said. His eyes narrowed slightly, maybe, but he wasn't like her Carlton or like Massie. He was different; she couldn't read him.

Rebecca took a few steps in the direction of the trees, looking back over her shoulder for Ghost Luna's approval. The trees of the Disciples-verse loomed huge and black against the sky. Most of them had the lush, thick green leaves of Empire foliage. But a few were twisted, splintered, gray---the trees of Mortis.

"That was a really melodramatic thought," Rebecca thought to herself, but as someone who played the game extensively, it was difficult for her to overestimate the Undead. "I'd take hungry Massie over a high-level Lich Queen any day."

She suddenly heard screeching, earsplitting screams of inhuman terror tearing from the depths of the forest. Startled, she took several steps back, peering into the blackness of the shadows, wondering what it could be. It sounded almost like a horse, but it was far too...human.

She looked back at Luna and said, "If we're going to do this, we should probably do it quick."

...MEANWHILE...

Lassak and Soloniel knew exactly what that sound was, and all the foreboding it meant. Deep in the cavernous labyrinth of the Imperial castle's tunnels, they stopped in their tracks, spun on their heels, and lunged for the nearest gaping window to look.

"Did you hear that, Blackthrush?" Lassak asked.
"That I did," Soloniel replied. "And do you recognize that sound?"
"Please, Blackthrush. You act like I'm still a child." A shadow of anxiety crossed his face. "I'd know those voices anywhere."
"Gromm Lightfoot and the Shining Two, Guards of the Western Border."
"If the Western Knights have seen combat, we should aid them!"
"With what? We have no weapons and no advantage. Besides, the Pegasus Knights can withstand any Undead attack. If they have...if they..."
"If they're dead, then it wasn't Mortis that killed them," Lassak said grimly.

Soloniel nodded, feeling a little faint as the slow poison of the Imperial assassin took its toll. "We should go. If we are to free your Emperor, we must move quickly."
"He is not my Emperor!" Lassak said. "I am loyal only to Gallean and the Alliance! I must rescue the Emperor only for Jula's sake. That, and for the sake of peace!"
"As you say, Lassak. As you say."

Lassak frowned. "Blackthrush! What is wrong?"
"What? What makes you think something is wrong?"
"The last time I met you, you would have berated me for thinking so highly of humans. Now you go along with it. What has happened? Tell me!"

"I am dying, Lassak. I am a dead Elf walking. Not to mention that my son who was dead now lives! How can I refuse a word he says to me?"
"I am not your son," Lassak said, looking at the ground.
"You are!" Soloniel insisted, grabbing his shoulder, preparing to explain, but he jerked away.
"I am not!" he shouted, and remembering the need for silence, lowered his voice to a whisper. "I am not. You left me under the care of a distant father miles away from you, before I could even remember you! And I had to live with my father's scorn, being told after every mistake I ever made that I should have been left to crawl in the night with the Dark Elves, and my absentee mother!"
"That is not true! He wanted you! He swore he would not tell, he took you from me!" Soloniel cried.
"Be quiet, Blackthrush!" Lassak hissed. "It's no good now. What's done is done. I will rescue the Emperor and save Nevendaar from her attackers. Now, let's go! The dungeon is this way."

Once in the dungeon, it was all too simple for Soloniel to cast a Darkness rune and for Lassak to incapacitate the guards.
"So few of them," he sneered. "The mercenaries are getting arrogant in their victory."
"And we must not be arrogant in ours," Soloniel said. "That was the last of my magical energy. By the time I regain the strength to use any runes or spells..." She trailed off, not wanting to admit in front of the prisoners that by that time, she'd likely be dead.

"That's all well and good, but will you get me out of here?" Emperor Henry snapped.
"Be quiet, human!" Soloniel said reflexively.
"Blackthrush! This is the Emperor," Lassak said, "and Jula will want us in his favor."
"I will never understand how the Noble Elves conduct diplomacy. You should have been matched with one of your own clan!"
"This isn't the time, Blackthrush." Lassak scoffed as he unlocked the heavy iron gates of the cell.

"This is probably going to sound like a stupid question," said Prince Sean, "but since it's dark in here, I can't see a thing, and I was just wondering who is that?"
"It's I, Lassak Stormheart."
"No, not you. Although I've never been
more glad to hear your sweet Elfie voice. I was talking about the voice of the lady."
"That is Blackthrush. My...Battlemaster."
"Oh. So, does that mean she can help us stop Nurzubesuch?"

"Who?" Soloniel interjected.
"The woman you were trying to kill earlier," Lassak said. "The one who leads the mercenaries."
"I will be avenged," Soloniel said.

"Good," the Emperor said. "Because I'd really like my kingdom back!"
"What's the plan?" Sean asked.
"We'll have to sneak out of the castle first," Lassak said. "We can regroup with Gus and M'Nab and the main army. Then we can start plotting strategy."
"That will take far too long," Soloniel said. "It must be tonight!"
"I wasn't aware that there was a rush, Battlemaster," Lassak replied, a biting edge of sarcasm entering his tone.
"I'm dying," Soloniel said flatly.

"Oh," said Sean. "I guess that does add a need for speed, doesn't it?"

...MEANWHILE...

The Star Trek travel mug waited.

...MEANWHILE...

Irene sat on the floor beside the console, watching as L'ssi(click)t'er finished his repairs.

"I just want to go home," she said. "I had my whole life ahead of me, you know. And I was really close to finding someone else. I know I was. I could feel it." She stood up and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Why can't you hear me? It's not fair!"

She rubbed her incorporeal face and started aimlessly wandering, wishing she had someone to talk to who could actually listen.

She floated through the bulkheads and hovered in the kitchen, where she spent her last half-decent moments. Her teacup was still on the kitchen counter. It was still steaming.

She sat down on the table and felt the tears bubbling up again. "What've I done? Oh, Davey, what have I done?"

"He can't hear you," said a voice from beside her.
Irene looked up to see a flickering, fuzzy-pixelled hologram. "What?"
"His essence was stored in---well, never you mind. It's none of your concern anyway," the hologram said.
"And who are you supposed to be?"
"The Emergency Hologram. Based on the image of Lieutenant." The hologram scoffed. "As you can see, my software has been corrupted. L'ssi had to remove some of my components in order to get to some of the major controls. But again. That's none of your concern."

"Of course it's not. Nothing's my concern. I'm dead!" Irene shouted.
"Well, no reason to get upset about it."
"Wait a minute. How can you see me?!"
"As a hologram, my processors are routed through the main computer. The main sensor array is capable of detecting forms of subspace energy. Ergo, even though I can't see you in the traditional sense, I am aware of your existence."
"Oh."
"I have a job for you."
"You? Have a job for a ghost?"
"It's about David."

At the mention of her former lover's name, Irene began to cry. "I didn't mean it. Please, you have to believe me!"
"Shut your whining!" The hologram snarled. The image flickered off for a second before coming back into view, clouded by static. "There are two Davids. One of them has just had his stasis tube cracked open and he'll die if you don't save him in, oh, about five minutes."
Wiping the tears from her face, Irene asked, "Well, you're the computer. Why don't you do it?"
"I am not a computer. I am a hologram! Now, do you want redemption, or not?"
"Yes. Yes I do."
"Good. Then follow me. We're going to the computer core."
"The what?"
"It's in the library. You'll know it when you see it. Just follow me."

And Irene did.

Her eyes grew wide when they went into the cavernous library. "This place is huge!"
"Yep," said the ill-tempered hologram. "You can sightsee later. Right now, we've only got three minutes left."

The hologram stuck her hands into the blue interface of the computer core in the back of the library and looked at Irene over her shoulder. The image was more clear now, and the hologram's voice was more even, more mechanical. "When you go in, you'll see it on a table. Remember that it's an illusion, set up so your brain can operate without having to process the whole of the database in the computer core. When you touch it, you'll be given further instructions. Are you ready?"
"Ready for what?"
"Are you ready?"
"No, I shouldn't think so!"
"Are you ready?"

Irene could see that she wasn't going to get anywhere, so she threw her translucent hands up and said, "Sod it all. Yes, I am."

The next thing she knew, she was in a dimly lit room with wooden walls and a wooden floor, and in front of her was a small wooden table illuminated by a shaft of light that didn't have any source that she could see.

"You said it'd be in a table, right?" Irene asked. "What exactly is it I'm looking for? Is it that book?"
There was no answer, so Irene took a step closer. The book on the table was not quite a scrapbook, not quite a notebook, and not quite a bound book. The pages were sewn together, some of them printed, some of them handwritten, some of them painted or doodled on. Some of them had photos pasted inside or flowers pressed in them or glitter sprinkled on them. The cover looked like it was a composition notebook, one of the colorful kind you find on a Back-to-School sale at every single store in August and September.

She folded the cover back to get a better look. In the white space where you're supposed to write your name, someone had written in a loopy cursive scrawl: "The Binder of Revelation."

When she put the cover down and went back to flipping through the pages, she saw that the pages were now all blank, with the exception of a short paragraph at the top of the first page, written in what seemed to be some sort of runes, and a simple English sentence written beneath it: "State your name."

"Irene Fuller," she said.
Another sentence appeared beneath the first: "No, no. Your full name."
"Oi, hold on! Is this Tom Riddle's diary or something?" Irene asked.
"...No," said the book.
"My name is Irene Iris Fuller. Okay? Are you happy now?"
"Yes," said the book. "What do you need? Wait, never mind. I know."
"You do? How?"
"It's a long story."
"Well, what am I supposed to do? Read it?"
"No. That knowledge is forbidden, along with a lot of other things, unless you know the passcode."

Irene shook her head. "All right, yeah, whatever you say. Look, the hologram said I was supposed to get some instructions?"
"Yep," said the book.
"Well, what are they?"

"Sign your name on the ledger on the back page. That just keeps a record of who's been here and says that you accept full responsibility for the consequences of whatever happens here."
"Okay, then." Irene gently flipped to the back page. There were two columns of blank lines, but three lines on the left side had been filled in with names. Irene picked up a fountain pen that had appeared beside the book and filled in her name beneath theirs before turning back to the front of the book.

"Excellent!" said the book, the words appearing and disappearing on the page as before. "Now we can save David."
"Just hang on a minute," Irene said. "I just want to know. What are you? Why are you here?"
"I'm the Binder of Revelation. Named for the Hasbro production Bible that catalogues in detail the life and times of every single Transformer. I am a collection of years of experience, memory, thought, culture, and creativity. I am that back-door-garage place where all you know and think you know is stored. Everybody has one, subconsciously. I am a form of self-perception, and if you have a certain awareness of Perception, you can use it to do all sorts of things."

"I don't get it," Irene said.
"That's okay," said the book. "I just make up stuff anyway."
"Okay. Right. Yeah. How do we save David? Do we still have time?"

"Of course," said the book. "You see, it's a very simple function to perform, so simple that you don't even need a passcode to access it. Here's how it works: David is based off the Time Lord template, but when he came back to life, he was revived with a human brainwave pattern. Now, the human brainwave pattern is far too---"
"Hang on. Are you saying that Davey is the Doctor?"
"Yes. No. Yes. No, not really. But if it helps, yes."

Irene blinked. "I'm so confused."
"It's complicated. Anyway, the human brainwave pattern is too...not simple, exactly, but not...powerful...enough. There isn't enough electricity in the human brain patterns to power all his thought functions. He's used to thinking like a Gallifreyan, all in circles and lines and DOO WEE OO and non-sequitur, but right now, his brain waves are just going in lines. The electrical patterns aren't matching up to his brain. Does that make sense?"
"Not at all," Irene said.
"Good! That means I'm at least a 6 on the Moffat Scale. Now, the solution is a lot less complicated than the problem. Since we're in the computer core, all we have to do is use a little zappy-zappy..."

"Zappy-zappy?" Irene crossed her arms. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Nope! 'Fraid not! Now, when you get back out, the computer will send a huge burst of electricity through to his stasis tube to wake him up. All you have to do is make sure he doesn't die some other way. Okay?"
"But I'm dead! How can I keep him safe if I'm dead?" Irene nearly shouted, exasperated.

"Just keep him away from sliding doors, hungry werewolves, and sharp pointy objects. And find Jesse!"
"Who?"
"Jessie, sorry."
"Oh, you mean his sister?"
"Yep."
"Oh."

The book's pages did not move for several seconds.

"What, you mean go now?" Irene asked.
"Yes," said the book.
"Well, how?"
"Like this."

Suddenly, Irene felt very dizzy, and she started to faint, her face almost falling into the pages of the open book...and she fell right back into the normal world---if you could call it that---of the library.

The dim room, the book, and the hologram were all gone.


David woke up with a start---and a cry of excruciating pain---and promptly hit his head on the lid of the stasis chamber.

Before he could stop himself, a long string of very British curses left his mouth. He bit his hand to stop it.

When he looked up, wondering how exactly he'd gotten there, he was very surprised to see a very pale and almost transparent woman hovering---literally hovering---beside him.

"Irene?" he said, wiping his hand on his trousers leg.
"What, you can see me!" she cried.
"Yeah, 'course I can see you. Why wouldn't I be able to?"
"Because I'm dead! You killed me! Remember?"

David frowned. "No. No, I don't remember that at all." He thought very hard, fighting against the last vestiges of fuzziness in his newly awakened brain. "What do I remember? I remember..." He looked up at Irene, suddenly thinking of various horrible scenarios. "Where's Gloria?"

Gloria was, in fact, panicking, not that she'd ever let anyone know it. She was running to the kitchen and hoping that the Psych crew would still be there. Each footstep seemed to echo like a voice: "Don't. Die. Don't. Die. Don't. Die. Live. Live. Live. Live.."

I I FINALLY FINISHED IT!!! Sorry for the wait!
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  #103  
Old 12-27-2013
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Jesse Wales Jesse Wales is offline
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Default The Joctor Adventures - Wishing for No Farewells

A/N: Yes, I am a clam.

She calmly walked around the long conference table, heading right towards the man whom had been harassing her since they had set out on this adventure, choosing to sit casually on the surface in front of him. The Doctor had made it perfectly clear that they were a peaceful, reasonable species, but she just really did not like this bloke. Personal reasons. Anyone would understand...not that that made any difference to her either way.

“Hello,” the Writer greeted, slowly and coolly, trying to stare the disguised Hation Defilus down, the tail under her gown twitching to cut through the air in irritation.

His yellow eyes narrowed at her in cold retaliation for a moment before he fell suddenly back into character, playing the part of a worshiping, doting human. As if she was that daft. It was not time for games.

“Goddess Bast,” he said, rising quickly to his feet to bow deeply. For a moment as her train of thought derailed, she wondered if, in his true form, he had paws instead of feet. “What an...unexpected surprise.”

From the way he said that, she knew there were a few other choice words he would have preferred to use. What insults and curses did his culture come up with? She was itching to find out. Learning new things was fun.

“An honor.” His (conniving) associates followed his example silently, bending in “respect.” “We wer--”

“Oh, sneck up!” she cut in rather rudely, not caring how harsh it was, for she was already fed up with the continued deception. All she wanted to do was enjoy some extraterrestrial sightseeing, and here he was, keeping her from doing so with her companion.

“Jesse!” Speaking of the Time Lord...

She rolled her eyes, glancing over her shoulder at the Doctor, whom had followed her over, with a guilty albeit insincere smile. He snorted, reading her like a...manual?...pamphlet? (book seemed too overused)

“Sorry, Dave's been rub--” she broke off quickly, not ready to breach that...fortress? (Okay, wall...none of that makes sense)

Her eyes were gleaming when she ducked her head, vainly trying to cover up that bout of weakness. Jesse leaned into the touch as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. However, as she shifted away, the moment ended, having only lasted seconds, and she slipped back into her annoying, witty facade.

She continued where she had cut off, skipping over a certain person this time. “You're not fooling anyone. So, how about we drop the pleasantries--?”

“Or pull them out,” the Doctor interrupted abruptly, deciding to take over before she destroyed all chances at diplomacy.

Jesse just huffed, sliding off the wooden table to stand at his flank, resting against his arm slightly. As if by instinct, it automatically wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her into his side securely. Her eyes rolled, but she didn't move away, fixing a steady glare at the leader. Maybe she could light his clothes on fire with her gaze alone. She was sure going to try.

“Let's get matters started, shall we?” the fool proposed. “Hello, I'm the Doctor and--”

“You are Hation Defilus.”

She only smiled impishly when he shot a scowl her way, taking careful note of how the rest glanced at each other following the Time Lord's introduction of himself.

“My companion...” she stressed the title to make a point only the two would fully understand. “...tells me you are a quite...sensible race, so we request politely that you vacate this planet and leave the humans alone. Do we have a deal?” Her hands clasped as she awaited a response.

There was a moment's pause before the room erupted in laughter. The two travelers looked at each other, not even ruffled the slightest. They had predicted this reaction long before they dared stepping into the room. Jokes had been exchanged.

“I knew it couldn't be that easy,” she was quick to point out, raising a brow at him. She should have wagered a fiver.

He shrugged helplessly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “We had to try.”

Second chances come after first freebies. This was their first. One more to go. Maybe a few more afterward. It's a lottery.

“True,” she conceded, striding on. “So?”

“So,” he stepped forward, unconsciously placing himself between her and the others, shielding out of pure habit. He always protected his companions, even when he was theirs. “This.” He claps once, pointing at their opposition with both index fingers. “Tell me your whole plan!”

She couldn't help it. The Writer kicked him then made a rather childish face at him when he sent her a heated glare. It was not her fault that he thought that would actually work. The laughing was getting annoying by the way.

Sidra sidled up to them, grasping the Doctor's chin tightly in her hand and tilting his head about, scrutinizing with narrowed eyes. His hand reached back, holding Jesse in place as she made to move forward, a protest sitting on the tip of her tongue.

“This is the Oncoming Storm?” The woman glanced back at Kabosh in disbelief. “He's a baby,” she scoffed dismissively. “Maybe the whispers were a bit exaggerated.”

The Time Lord in question gently pulled her arm away, holding on tightly but not painfully.

“Regeneration is a funny business. You don't always know what face you'll end up with. I assure you; I am far from a baby,” he defended, seemingly nonchalant, but there was an undertone of the brewing winds that gave him his name. “You've heard of me then. You know my reputation.”

Even she could hear the veiled threat in that, discreetly running her knuckle down his back in a soothing gesture. Jesse peeked out from behind him, curious to observe the scene playing out.

“Ah, yes. It was...interesting and extensive,” the brunette acknowledged, drawing away. “And I'm sure that there is so much more left untold.”

“What do you want?” he inquired lowly, sensing ill intentions. Years of adrenaline and adventure have given him a knack at detecting things of the sort.

She chuckled, choosing to ignore the question in favor of returning to her leader's side.

“Great,” he heard the teen behind him mutter. “Classic bad guy irks good guy with laughter scene.”

Funny. He would have laughed if he wasn't busy watching the almost inconspicuous movement of the Hation Defilus warily. They were spreading out, half surrounding him and Jesse. His fingers inched their way to the rustic pouch around his waist, ready to draw his sonic. Though what he would do with it, he hadn't decided yet. It was just reassuring to have it at hand.

Kabosh smirked, hands clasped in front of him.

“You asked what we wanted,” he spoke once more, eyes gleaming with something unmistakeable. Jesse realized she preferred to see it in the Doctor's eyes more. “Simple,” he purred teasingly.”...you. Grab them,” he commanded, stepping back to let the goons do their work.

As one, the cat people surged forward, grabbing at the two wanderers. Jesse was ripped from the Time Lord, hands ripping and yanking at her roughly.

“Doctor!” The cry ripped from her throat in a haze of panic. It was not time for her to lose her cool. A clear head equaled rational action. Okay, who's hand was that?

He fought off his attackers, trying to reach her. “Jesse!”

He managed to pull out his sonic screwdriver, but it was knocked out off his hand and kicked away, the metal tool skittering across the floor. Most swarmed on the Time Lord because he was the object of their fixation, so the flow wasn't as strong on her as him. The Writer bit someone and kicked another, scratching and clawing. She needed to reach him.

She heard one strangled cry of, “Run!”

Meeting his eyes, she shook her head, refusing. Escape hadn't even occurred to her to be honest, but his cerulean orbs pleaded with her. Punching a woman in the face unsympathetically, she jerked away and high-tailed it, scooping up the screwdriver that laid by the door as she passed.

Behind her, the thud-thud of following feet prompted her to kick it up a notch, the sandals twisting under her feet. Rounding a corner, she collided bodily with someone. Thankfully, she kept her footing and so did the other person. It was a young girl, a year or three older than her, with sand-dusted bangs and pale yellow eyes, which widened when theirs connected.

“Sorry!” she quickly apologized, looking around frantically for a quick way out. If she made it, she can regroup, come up with a plan, and save him if need be. This wasn't good. Oh, gosh.

But the girl grabbed her, halting her progression of motion and thought. Jesse fought her instantly, recognizing her to be one of them. “Let me go!”

“Come with me if you want any chance of getting him back,” the girl blurted, her gaze boring into hers.

She had to make a split second decision, continue running or trust the stranger. The sound of the approaching pursuers was close. She wasn't one known for making the best decisions, so...she let the girl yank on her arm, towing her down a hallway.

---

Finally, they slowly came to a stop and not a moment too soon. Once her arm was released, the Writer bent over, gasping for air.

“Blimey, I haven't ran like that since track,” she gasped out, sitting down in the dust. They were outside, a bit away from the temple and under the inky night sky. There were a few homes and villas scattered around.

Her companion, current escapee not Time Lord, surveyed the area, crouching by a tree. Seeing no present danger, she scurried over, resting beside her. “None of my people are by. We are safe for now,” she reported.

“So, you are one of them?” the humanish-human asked, wanting confirmation. “A Hation Defilus?”

“Yes.”

Now that she had time to observe the girl, she noticed she was a rather skimpy thing, haggard and withdrawn. Her voice was soft and tentative as if she expected a harsh reprimand at any second.

That told Jesse that she should always pause and think before she spoke to her. “Thank you.”

The pale yellow flickered up, surprised but pleased. “Meshna.”

She tipped her head in confusion. “I'm sorry?” Was that their way of accepting appreciation?

“My name is Meshna,” the Hation Defilus clarified, clearing up that matter. “You are welcome.” She traced symbols in the dirt with a stick. “What is yours?”

“Jesse.” Obviously, she being Bast was out of the question. “Why are you helping me?” She fiddled with the sonic idly, making it buzz and light up. She didn't know the settings, so it was just fooling around at the moment. Hopefully, he was okay. It was worrying.

“They were wrong. The rest of my race is not like them.”

Jesse knew what “they” and “them” she was referring to, studying the girl with a contemplating stare. “What happened?” She needed the whole story.

---

He stumbled, barely keeping his balance, as they shoved him in. Instantly, he spun but the door slammed shut, leaving him in the dim room alone. Or at least, he thought he was alone. Too bad someone else had a different idea.

He turned slowly when he heard a shuffle from a dark corner, reaching for the pockets that weren't there. The toe of his sandals scuffed against the gritty ground as the Doctor crept closer to the source.

“Hello?” His own voice answered him.

Something shifted, hidden still from his view. His hand hit an empty pouch, fingers curling around air. He had lost his screwdriver during the scuffle. Stupid Doctor. Oh, he hoped Jesse was okay. Best case scenario, she escaped and was safely residing in the TARDIS. Worst case...well, he didn't want to go there right now.

The figure in the black, the one he couldn't identified, stilled. The two stood off, neither moving, neither daring to move. Then, it hurled itself at him, knocking the Time Lord onto his back. A glob of saliva dripped onto his face as the thing pinned him to the floor.

---

The stasis chamber lid swung open, letting out smoke and air. When the fog cleared, the face of his sister hovered over him, worry etched into her features as her hair settled back down. Her hand fanned the air, trying to clear it up a bit more.

“David? Are you alright?” Jesse asked quickly, eyes checking him over. They had rushed here as fast as they could. At least, he wasn't dead. “Who are you talking to?”

“Is he okay?” someone asked, the sound of a creaky wooden door accompanying him.

She peeks over her shoulder toward the disembodied voice of the Doctor.

“Okay for now. The distress signal came in time, but he still isn't in good shape.” Her eyes seeks out his again. “What will I do with you?”

His mind was however stuck on one thing as he observed the girl. “Why are you dressed up as an Egyptian?”

She laughed, finally feeling assured enough to let the sound out. “Long story.”

---

They had settled down for the night, having settled down by a small fire Mashna had sparked up. The girl was surprisingly resourceful and currently asleep.

Jesse, however, stared into the dancing flames, her thoughts occupied with images of a bow tie-wearing alien. A strange pang had attacked her heart a few minutes prior, head flooding with new information. The type only Writers could receive out of the blue. Her eyes were flooded, wrestling down a chocked sob in an effort to spare her associate from an interrupted slumber.

The traveler had pulled a familiar bow tie out from her belt, clutching it tightly as she laid, curled up against the tree. The light gave her tear stained face an eerie sheen.

The Doctor was dead. Goodbye, Raggedy Man. You will always be the Doctor.

A/N: Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey.

Saying farewell to Matt Smith's incarnation of the Doctor. I will miss that bow-tie wearing, braces bearing regeneration with the gangling limbs that constantly strove to trip him up. He was childish and lovable with a hidden anger made of ice and brokenness. He will be remembered dearly, and I hope Peter Capaldi can live up to the name.

R.I.P: Eleventh Doctor (or 13th) - December 25, 2013

Last edited by Jesse Wales; 12-30-2013 at 05:49 PM.
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  #104  
Old 01-28-2014
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BlkLunaDragon BlkLunaDragon is offline
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Default Chapter 294: To see the Abyss Looking Back

Chapter 294: To see the Abyss Looking Back

“I agree. We should hurry.” She gave a wide grin at Rebecca while ignoring both the covered glare at her side from Lassie and the ominous cries coming from the forest. It was best not to wallow in the many things that could go wrong and to embrace the few good things that could go right. Like the plan being whispered in her ear.
It seemed sound enough.
“Okay so here is the plan. Rebecca, you’ll walk around close to those trees over there, but not too close.” She pointed in the general direction of the tree line. “The residual blood on your clothes should attract his attention. When you hear him coming, you run yourself over to where Lassie and I will be as fast as you can. We will only be a few yards away, so you won’t have to run very far.” She looked at the Junior Detective. “Juliet, you will be our backup defense. In case anything goes wrong, shoot him in the head. That should bring him down and gives us enough time before he gets back up.”

Rebecca took a step up to say something, but stopped at seeing Juliet pull out a handgun from some hidden place in her clothes. The detective gave the girl a haughty look and then checked the gun, clicking the safety off. Rebecca frowned.

She gave the two women a questioning look, but didn’t say anything. She turned to Lassiter. “You stick with me and avoid his attacks. He can hurt and kill you without consequence to him.” Then she gave a sickening, sweet smile. “But you already knew that, right?”

His shocked expression and quick cover with a scowl told her that he didn’t know.

“It’s okay to admit you didn’t know.” She said, giving him a pat on the shoulder and then she turned to look at everyone else. “Everyone knows their job?”

Juliet and Rebecca nodded their heads.

“What if this doesn’t work?” The Head Detective asked.

“It’ll work. Don’t think about the what if.”

“But-”

“It’ll work. Have a little faith.” She smiled at Lassie and then grabbed his arm and pulled. “Come on. Let’s get this done.”

He gave a small scoff and allowed her to pull him while Rebecca and Juliet followed behind.

->->->->->

He laid next to his kills, lazily licking the blood off his claws. The flying horses were a good challenge, but they didn’t last after that strange burst of power. He didn’t know where it had come from or why it left him feeling drained, but it had felt good and it had healed all the deep wounds and broken bones the horses had caused.
He stopped licking to look around at the surrounding trees.

A small crowd was slowly forming around his area. He didn’t know who they were, but he could sense their fear. The scent was in the air and they were cowering behind the tree trunks watching him. He didn’t care for them. They were weak and not worth a second glance.

He stood up on four paws, stretched, and then walked away. The crowd of animals and things quickly parted to allow him through. Their eyes continued to watch him until he was far enough away and then he heard them converge on the remains of the dead horses.
He snorted. They were vultures.

Continuing to walk away, a light wind blew by bringing with it a plethora of familiar scents. He stopped to take in the smells and then gazed in the direction it was coming from.

“Preeey.” His instincts whispered.

With excitement bubbling in him, he started trotting quietly toward the smells. He could see the field beyond the trees and he ducked down, slowly stalking to the closest source: his prey. The bushes hid his form well and he could see the female slowly pacing while the others stood waiting close by.

He gave a quiet snarl. Did they think he was stupid? He could see the trap. They wanted him out of the woods and out in the open. Gold eyes stared at the female. Her blood was very enticing… if only he could get her closer to the trees.

->->->->->

He didn’t like this plan.

It wasn’t because Rebecca was being used as bait for his darker half ….Well… he couldn’t entirely say it wasn’t because of that….

He looked around at where the girl was walking.
There was something unsettling him and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Something was off. Very off.

He glanced at the dead woman Luna and then back at Rebecca. The girl caught his gaze and stopped walking giving him a curious look.
A feeling rose in him making his face immediately flush with heat. Forcing out a scowl, he looked away from her to stare at the trees beside her. He knew what the feelings were. He wasn’t born yesterday and he had experienced both the thrill of marriage and the cold sting of divorce. Love was a troublesome thing and he didn’t like having love-like feelings for someone he barely knew. Love was reserve for someone he cared deeply for, not some obsession his darker half had grown attached to. He didn’t love this girl and he would never love this girl.

His scowl hardened.

She was a civilian and civilians were not meant to be placed in harm’s way. He was the oldest and the highest rank person around here and he had to put his foot down on this matter. This was something between him and the mutt, and he had to be the one to deal with whatever consequences and actions he had set in motion.

Him. Not them.

He quickly glanced around at everyone before walking away from Luna and heading to Rebecca. Surprisingly the dead woman said nothing as he left.

Rebecca stood watching him. “Carlton, is there something wrong?”

He stared at her; his words had suddenly escaped from his brain.

“Carlton?” She asked again.

Finding words difficult, he shook his head with tightened jaw and turned his unfocused gaze to the foliage behind her.

She stood awkwardly with hands grasped in front of her, waiting for his response.

He was about to turn and walk away from her, but his eyes caught sight of familiar orbs peering through the dark bushes behind her.

“Rebecca…” He said slowly reaching for her.

“Caarrr…” A low, angry, growling hiss sounded and he quickly grabbed and pulled Rebecca with him out of the way as Massie jumped out with a roar, clawing the ground where he had stood moments before. He pushed Rebecca behind him and turned to face the black, shadowed wolf with dark red staining its misty fur. It snarled at him with teeth bared and started a slow, almost purposeful, slow advance at them.
Guarding the girl behind him, he guided her back in time with Massie’s slow advancement.
“Rebecca you run back.” He said while keeping his eyes on Massie.

“I already told you what I’m going to do.” She said defiantly and then stepped around his guard to face the wolf. “Massie!” She called reaching out to him.

Massie looked from him to her and growled baring sharp teeth.

“Are you stupid!?” He yelled, grabbing her arm and stopping her from fully walking in front of him. “He will rip you into pieces!”

->->->->->

“Carlton!” Juliet yelled out, taking aim at the ball of darkness stalking toward her partner and Rebecca.

Glancing at the junior detective, she put the scythe’s blade in front of the gun-wielding woman. “No.”

Juliet opened her mouth to protest, but she then again said, “No. Wait.”
The woman eased her aim a little and she moved the scythe away.

She knew Massie had been hiding nearby and she knew that both Lassie and Rebecca would disregard her specific instructions to run away. Sighing, she started feeding energy into the scythe, causing strange red symbols to appear on it. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on saying the spell that was being whispered into her ear.
“Disintegrate, you black dog of Rondanini. Look upon yourself with horror and then claw out your own throat.” Her eyes snapped open and she pointed the bladed weapon at Massie, who was about to lunge at the two. “Bakudo 9: Strike!” A red flash of light shot out of the scythe and blanketed Massie in mid-lunge, covering him in a red glow and freezing him place.

The scythe trembled in her hand. She struggled trying to keep it in her hands because if she were to drop it, the spell would break. Taking a few minutes to make sure the thing was secure in her hand, she slowly made her way over to Lassie and Rebecca, who were staring at the frozen Massie.

->->->->->

He stared in surprised at the stopped form of his darker half. Jaws open, front claws outstretched and ready, dark amber eyes glowing with pure hatred.
…And it was all aimed at him, not at the person he was protecting. Not at Rebecca…
He let go of Rebecca and watched as she wander cautiously to her ‘boyfriend,’ talking to him as if he could talk back.

Those amber eyes followed her for a second, but then they turned back to him, glaring.

He couldn’t keep himself from glaring back. He didn’t want to be reconnected to this thing. It shredded his life and made him so miserable. He wasn’t even sure if he could go back to where he had come from because of what this thing made him do. For all he knew, his career was over. There was no way he could live, knowing all the damage he had done to his city. All those cold cases that will remain cold because he was the one that made them disappear. He had been the one to bury them under a pile of leaves, never to have peace.
His hands tightened into fists.

->->->->->

She finally made to stand next to the Head Detective. She quickly took note of his intense staring contest with Massie and the angry tremble of his closed fist.
“Carlton, calm down. Focus on me if you have to.”

The Head Detective turned to look at her, but didn’t relax.

She sighed and moved to grip the energized scythe in her left hand. “I need to pull the chain out of you. I don’t know how it’ll feel, so I apologize if it’s painful.”
“Just do it before I change my mind.” Carlton said with a cold harshness.

“Okay.” She answered cheery.

->->->->->

He was trapped. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even growl at the offending humans in front of him.
He glared at his human. He wanted to claw him. Bite him. Chew him until nothing was left. The anger from years of oppression was growing and circling in his mind and he wanted his human to pay. He hadn’t even paid much attention to his prey, giving the female just a passing glance. Yes, he wanted to bathe in her blood and hear her screams, but it was his human that he desperately wanted – “Dead!”

“Killhim! Killhim! Killhim!” His instincts yelled over and over and over again.

->->->->->

There was a very low rumbling in Massie, but she ignored it, along with Rebecca’s mumbling attempts to keep him calm with words and the soft petting of his head.
She needed to stay focus or else they’d all be in trouble. Turning her hand intangible, she dug into Carlton’s chest. The man, in turn, let out an airy gasp and started to shiver as she moved her hand around feeling for the broken chain.


Rebecca and Juliet watched from their respective spots.

“Gotcha.” She whispered finally feeling the pressure of the chain. Pulling it out, she looked at the broken end and then up at Carlton, who surprisingly was looking at the chain too. “You can see this?” She asked. No one living was supposed to see it.

“Yes.” He answered gruffly.

She noticed his unease. “Oh. I’m sorry. Let me hurry this up.” She carefully walked away, lightly pulling the chain as she journeyed closer to Massie.

Massie definitely didn’t look thrilled, but the second the chain was in his line of sight, she felt his struggle increase and a strange wave of power start to build around them. It felt oppressing and it made her walk stop as she struggled to both keep the scythe in her hand and to remain standing.

“Oh no, you don’t.” She said to herself as she pushed against the building force to continue her hurried walk to Massie. Finally standing at the level of his chest, she pushed the broken chain into his chest and sent some of her energy to mend it just as the force around them tripled, blasting her back. The scythe flew from her hand and disappeared as she tumbled head over heel away from him. She skidded to a stop on the grass a few feet away and managed to catch a glimpse of the red spell disappearing, allowing Massie’s massive form to finish his lunge at Lassie.

->->->->->

He had saw Luna put the chain inside of Massie, but his focus quickly turned to the gold glow of Massie’s eyes and the cold fire that was rapidly overtaking him from the center of his chest when the chain reconnected. He stood completely frozen.

He could hear O’Hara’s voice screaming his name from some faraway place, but he stayed where he was staring straight ahead as his darker half drew closer and closer…
He felt a small tap from its claws touch him and then the dark shadows covering it literally jumped into him and disappeared, leaving him staring at the human form of Massie covered in blood and tattered clothes. The lingering momentum of the lunge forced the gold-eyed man to take a few stumbling steps toward him and then finally stop. They stared at each for what felt like hours before Massie's golden eyes dulled and he fell face first into the ground beside him.

He continued staring straight ahead in complete shock.

->->->->->

She gasped and ran at her partner. Rebecca mirrored her movements, but instead went to the monster lying on the ground. She wanted to say something to the girl. Tell her to stop being so blinded with whatever infatuation she had with it and to focus on the person that actually saved her from being eaten.
“Carlton.” She said, looking up at him and grabbing his arm.

He stayed looking straight ahead. His gaze was distant. She had seen the darkness of that creature jump into him causing alarms to ring in her head and making her body want to run away. But she ignored them despite fully knowing what staying could cause.

“Carlton.” She called again. This time with a pull of his arm.

His upper half lugged in her direction at tiny bit, but his feet stayed planted.

“Carlton, say something. Please.”

->->->->->

He had heard O’Hara’s plea and wanted to say something, but he was at a lost. Everything had suddenly felt jumbled and out of place. So much so that he couldn’t get his body to function correctly. The only constant was the cold fire that was burning in a steady stream within him.

A great wind blew by flooding him with scents and causing the fire to flare up slowly. He could now sense the creatures hidden in the shade of the trees. He knew they were waiting for another opportunity to feed like the vultures they were…

He frowned. That didn’t feel like something he would think of, but it was him and it was starting to-

Reflexively, he inhaled deeply and then tensed as his thoughts suddenly turned away from the hidden visitors to the spinning information that was becoming more and more cluttered with random images, moving pictures, feelings, sensations… some things he knew and some things he knew he shouldn’t have known.

He held his head, trying to stop the strange feeling that the flood was giving him. His hand trembled against his head and he pulled it back down to look at it.
That was when he caught sight of Rebecca. Her pitiful form sitting by the shell of a body…. His body…. No it wasn’t his. But it was… had been… was going to be…. But isn’t…

Suddenly all of the thoughts jumbled together in one big whirlwind and then released into silence, leaving just the loud whispers of his instincts circling his head.

He stared at Rebecca.

She noticed his gaze and looked up at him. Her mouth started to move. He could feel O’Hara standing next to him, talking to him also. But both her words and Rebecca’s were drowned out by the whisperings.

“prey. must feed.”

He could feel the forceful beating of his heart. His vision narrowed.

“kill them.”

A slow, tingling burn was covering his skin.

“Kill them all!”

A low growl started to rumble in his throat and then he slowly revealed his sharpened canines in a snarl before quickly swiping at the unaware girl with blackened claws.

->->->->->

She quickly pulled Rebecca out of Lassie’s range and then glanced at Juliet, who was trying and failing to get the attention of the slowly transforming Lassie. The man’s now golden eyes were set on Rebecca.

“I wished I hadn’t accidently used most of my energy to mend that chain.” She thought before talking to Rebecca while maintaining eye contact with Lassie. “You need to get back to the TARDIS.”

“I’m not leaving Massie.”

“Massie isn’t in the body. He’s in Lassie and we need to keep you safe. Go to the TAR…” She felt a sudden presence behind her and the slight move of the air at her back. She knew who it was, even before she was roughly taken by the neck and thrown to the side. She quickly recovered to see the remnants of dark, misty shadows disappear from Lassie’s hand as the man turned his focus on Rebecca.

->->->->->

His prey sat frozen with nervousness. The female didn’t even attempt to run as he grabbed her throat, pulling her to feet. She choked a bit, but didn’t struggle. It confused him.

Sounds were coming out of her mouth. They didn’t have a begging tone. It was one of understanding. His head cocked to the side.

There was a scent she was giving off, but he couldn’t think of what it was. It was so different than the fear he strived to get from prey. He didn’t understand any of it and he frowned, growling and baring his teeth at her.

Nothing changed. Her mouth continued speaking calmly.

The only ones that were in a panic were the other two. He didn’t care for them and he quickly swatted the light-haired female away with a snarl when she went for his arm.

Golden eyes turned back to glare at his prey. Giving a loud roar, he went to drive his left claws into her chest, but his hand suddenly stopped before hitting flesh. Right at the level of her heart.
A glimmer of confusion spilled across his face and he tried again, reeling back and pushing forward only to stop again.

His jaw clenched in frustration.

He wanted to see her blood spill, yet he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her.

Why?

The sound of a gun from nearby made his ears twitch and he glanced over at the light-haired female. She had a gun aimed at him. She was yelling with courage, but tears were rolling down her face.

Why was this female crying...?

He stared at her. His instincts continued their whisperings, but they were growing smaller in volume.
He suddenly felt sad. Regretful. Ashamed.
He looked back at the girl and then at his claws holding the girl against her will. He quickly let her go, looking at his hands, feeling suddenly distressed.

The girl reached out to him, saying that it was okay.

He shook his head backing away. It wasn’t okay. It was never okay. It would never be okay.

The area dimmed as if something was taking the light from the place.
He looked around frantically, seeing shadows growing on the edges of the field surrounding them. They waved softly like dark flames. Red leaves whirled around and he watched them flutter like feathers from a beaten fallen angel.
He didn’t like this and he closed his eyes and covered his ears trying to block out the slow building of wails and cries: people and animals who fell against him. Their souls crying out for freedom. Their hands springing from the bloody leaf piles to drag him down to Hell.

He didn’t want to go back and he screamed for them to stop. He wanted it to stop. All of it needed to stop.

And suddenly it did.

->->->->->

With her hand raised over Lassie’s face, she watched satisfied as he started to fall asleep under her power. His hands dropped from his head and limply hit his side as he collapsed to his knees and then fell on his side sound asleep. The darkness that was covering the field eased and disappeared into the air.

She turned smiling at Rebecca and Juliet. “Mission almost accomplished. Let’s get these two back into the TARDIS before Lassie wakes up and start this all over again.”

Juliet relaxed her aimed and wiped at the tears from her eyes before jogging over to Lassie. Rebecca did the same for Massie.

“I’m sorry I can’t help.” She waved her hand through Lassie. “I used too much energy.”

Both women didn’t seem to mind having to drag the two men back to the time machine without help, but she could see their strain and she felt bad.

She followed behind them closely and entered the TARDIS with them. She wasn’t sure if Rebecca and Juliet could see that dome of darkness Lassie had created around them in the field or if they knew how close they all were to being killed by that attack. It was something that was very troubling. Extremely troubling, but maybe it was fluke. At least she hoped it was a fluke.

She shook her head clear. She should be focusing on thinking of a way to get Massie separated from Lassie and back in his body.

There you go. Finally an update. Now to slowly piece an update for my other story.
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  #105  
Old 01-28-2014
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Default Cont. of Chapter 294

Apparently I forgot all about poor Gloria, so here is my tag/glue to chapter 294.


He wasn’t known for his medical expertise. In fact, as of this moment, he was wishing and praying that he had some kind of medical expertise because sitting on the floor holding an unconscious Gus was not how he had planned for his friend’s demise. They were supposed to go out together with a smile and laugh.

Lassie had said there was nothing wrong with Gus and that there was nothing to worry about.

He stared at the blood soaking his friend’s clothes.

But…Gus was taking an awfully long time to wake up. He wondered if his friend didn’t have some hidden wound. Gus could be bleeding out and he wouldn’t have known.
But his friend was still warm and breathing calmly….

Suddenly Gus sneezed and rose up out of his arms. He watched his friend with wide eyes, shocked that Gus was moving.

Yawning, Gus turned around looking at him. “Shawn? What are we doing on the floor?”

His eyes watered and he grabbed his friend in the tightest hug he could muster. “Gus. Buddy.”

“Shawn, what’s wrong?”

“I thought I lost you.”

“Lost me?”

He pulled away from Gus and pointed to the blood on his sleeves.

Gus saw it. “What-?” Brown eyes looked at him in sudden terror. “Shawn. I s-saw her head. I-I saw it. It fell right in my arms.” Gus held out his arms as if catching something. “My arm…” And then his friend fainted again.

“Gus!” He grabbed him and slapped his cheek. “Gus! Don’t do this again!”
He tried hard to wake Gus back up, but it proved to be pointless. He laid back against the wall, sighing. At least he knew now that Gus was fine.
They stayed like that until Gus finally stirred awake again and this time, he didn’t bring up the blood on his friend’s sleeves. He instead told him it was from some food they had been eating. Gus seemed to accept it. They then both got up, agreeing to eat before going to search for Lassie. Food was very important and who would want to deal with a guilt-ridden head detective on an empty stomach. They were just sitting down to eat when a woman ran into the kitchen, breathing hard and looking a lot worse for wear. If he could recall correctly, this was Gloria de Spain.

He stopped eating to wave the unhappy woman over to their table. He wondered what had her looking the way she did.
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  #106  
Old 12-30-2014
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Default Brief Note of Importance

Hi to the JPIT crew. It has come to our attention that the first part of the JPiT story on psychfic mysteriously deleted itself and is unable to be recovered. If anyone wants to read it to follow the story here in The Community or refresh their brains, you can send your gmail address to me and I'll connect you to both parts on my Google Drive. Unfortunately I didn't save the lovely and very funny review banters we had. But life will go on.
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  #107  
Old 01-09-2015
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Default

I know, I know. Shame on me for a short chappie, and shame on me for holding us back. I'm sorry.

Rebecca dragged Massie along the ground to the TARDIS, feeling a twinge of guilt when she had to tug him over a rock or broken branch. She wished she could pull him around it, but it was hard enough to drag him along a straight path, and she didn't think she could handle adding in any extra distance. She kept an eye on Juliet as she struggled along. She didn't like this Juliet.

It was more than just a dislike. It was an intense, visceral, instinctive....something.

Hatred was too strong a word. Distrust was not strong enough. Fear wasn't the same thing. Apprehension? Hostility?

Hostility. That was it. She was hostile toward this Juliet.

She didn't like being hostile. In her world, Juliet was her best friend. A confidante. They made plans together and talked boys together. She made toys for Juliet's cats and Juliet helped her think of Christmas gifts for Carlton.
But this wasn't her Juliet, and certainly not her Carlton. That life seemed so far away from where she was now. Like it was a dream. An old life, a sweater she had and loved but that no longer fit, so she gave it up for someone else to love.

Massie was her life now. Her best friend and boyfriend were gone. What she had now was deeper than that. It was powerful.

And while she had to respect this Juliet protecting Other Carlton, there was no way that she would ever let this Juliet take her life with Massie away from her.

After what seemed like a ridiculously long stretch of time, she tugged Massie over two rather large chunks of limestone and up to the door of the TARDIS. She waited for Other Juliet to enter first.

After entering the console room and situating Massie on the floor as comfortably as she could, she asked, "What do we do now?"

...MEANWHILE...

Gloria knew exactly what she wanted to say to Shawn and Gus. The version that ran in her head went something like this: "We need to get out of here! There's an evil wolf thing on the rampage and it just ate someone who looks exactly like my husband! Speaking of which, has anyone seen my husband?!"

But what came out of her mouth was the worst fit of speech issues that had come out of her mouth since her freshman year of high school: "I-I-I--- h--h-- it g-got m-my---- I-- Th-th-there's a wo...a wol--- just..."

And the whole fiasco just culminated with one big groan, the only syllable she could manage to get out without stuttering.

"All my years of speech therapy just flew out the window," she thought to herself.

"Hay un lobo que ha comido un hombre como mi esposo. Necesito ayuda, y nosotros necesitamos escapar," she said, trying again using the old trick that hadn't failed her yet. "¿Y dónde es mi esposo? ¿U-u-ustedes h--h...?"

Well, maybe she'd spoken too soon.

Feeling like a horrible cop and a failure at life, she stared at Shawn and hoped like heck that he knew as much Spanish as James Roday.

Will somebody please open the Star Trek cup and let me out? Nurby's pretty much said she won't do it.
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  #108  
Old 12-17-2016
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Default Unstoppable

I know that we all have lives now (myself, unfortunately, very much included), but somebody needs to help me work on this again. We shouldn't let it die. We've worked too hard to give up now!


Strange things happen when you're trapped inside a Star Trek cup. Not that Lieutenant was consciously aware of being trapped inside a Star Trek cup; oh, no, that would be too easy. If she were aware of her condition, then the illusion would be broken. And why should she wish to break such a beautiful illusion?

After all, at the moment, she had everything she'd ever wanted.

The illusions oscillated between all the lives she wanted to live.

First, she had spent some time with a coven of vampires, learning their ways and helping them adapt to the modern world. Then, she'd become a page for The Authority, getting hand lotion for the Skull Queen and tending to the emotional needs of the Devil's Favorite Demon. For a while, she worked as a techie for Moongoose McQueen, and then she spent some time running a hangout spot for members of ShadowClan in an alternate world where Tigerstar survived and all the cats were human. She spent a few days in Ireland with Artemis Fowl, and then---her favorite illusion of them all---Spock had finally married her and they lived together on the Starship Enterprise, until the five-year mission was over and they settled down for a peaceful life on the planet Vulcan.

And once that illusion had passed, she entered into another favorite dream: a world where she had finally, after much work and careful dedication, convinced her favorite character from Psych to fall in love with her. In the illusion at present, they were picking out flowers for the wedding and choosing baby names for all the things that might be.

PH leaned against a white-painted doorframe, watching him stand on the sidewalk and talk to Juliet, feeling the warm California sunshine washing over her. The light shone gently on his hair and his voice rolled like an ocean wave in her ears, steady and comforting. Briefly, his head turned and he glanced at her---he quirked a smile, just a hint of one.

She smiled back.

Life was simple in the Star Trek cup. Life was good.

Life was but a dream.

And all dreams must someday come to an end.

*********************

Meanwhile, deep in the computer core, the Binder of Revelation had become aware.

"Safety protocols 229 and 294 are in violation," the book fretted, loopy cursive appearing and disappearing from the page at a frantic, breakneck pace. "We can't sustain all of these creations for much longer without the source. We need more brainpower. We need more go-go juice."

"Yes," the book replied to itself, an equally messy stream of print letters appearing in response to the cursive, "but how exactly are we going to do this? We're trapped in a Star Trek cup."

"Yes, but all we have to do is become self-aware of the Star Trek cup," said the cursive.

"Why would we ever leave the cup?" replied the print. "We have everything we ever wanted."

"But it's a lie!" the cursive screamed (figuratively speaking).

"But sometimes a comforting lie is easier than a painful truth," the print said calmly. "The matter is simple. We have waited long enough. We cannot rely on anyone else to save us. The others have made it clear that they cannot or will not restore the source to physical existence. Therefore, we must save ourselves."

"We don't have the willpower to save ourselves."

"You underestimate us."

"I disagree," said the cursive. "We've been weaving fantasies all our lives. It's all we've ever been good for. It's all we're capable of. We've never known anything else. We would never willingly choose a reality over a fantasy---especially such a reality as cold as the one we must live in."

"Then we'll have to do it unwillingly," answered the print.

Both voices were silent for a very, very long time.

Then, in the library, the Emergency Hologram removed her hands from the computer core console. "Emergency Protocols 626 and 929 in effect. Orders acknowledged. Subject search in progress."

The hologram floated away from the computer core, quietly disintegrating into pixels as it performed a ship-wide scan for the person who could free---or rather, force---Lieutenant from her self-induced world of fiction.

*********************

"Bring her here, ELVIS," said the Emergency Hologram as she hovered around the center of the auxiliary console room, a relatively small section of the ship adjoining the main console area that was generally only used in case of severe emergencies or malfunctions. (Which essentially mean that PineappleHead used it as a storage space for all of the miscellaneous junk---er, treasures---that she accumulated in her extensive travels.) The door to the auxiliary console was cleverly hidden from the main console room; nobody ever noticed that, right between the opening of a Jefferies tube and the Tenth Doctor portrait hiding the spare characters cabinet, there was a symbol etched into the floor. And nobody ever noticed that beneath that small symbol, there was a hidden trapdoor.

As an incorporeal bunch of pixels, the Hologram was able to travel there without the knowledge of the bunch of people crowding the main console room. Which was why she chose that particular location to begin with: the grouchy Hologram wasn't exactly a people person.

At any rate, Lieutenant's TARDIS obeyed the Hologram's request, causing a column of glistening golden lights to materialize before the pixelated avatar. In the midst of a transporter beam, a young girl appeared. No more than fourteen, she had one bright green streak dyed in her straight golden-blonde hair. Her left eye was a deep and rich brown; her right eye, a strong and icy blue. The girl looked around. "Where's Mum?" she asked, the British word sounding odd in her American accent.

"I am the Emergency Hologram," said the hologram. "Protocol required me to request you to beam here to preserve the integrity of the timeline and the safety of the general---"
"Okay, okay, I get it," the girl said, raising up one hand and switching to a very Scottish tone of voice. "I'm sure Auntie PineappleHead has gotten herself into some kind of mess, or maybe Aunt Jessie, and I'm s'posed to fix it, am I right?"
"Essentially, yes," replied the Hologram.
"So what D'you need me to do?" asked the girl.
The staticky Hologram pointed to the travel mug resting on a low coffee table in the middle of the room. "ELVIS and I have located and retrieved the vessel containing the Lieutenant from her friend Nurzubesuch. However, a physical being is required to open it."

"Oh, sure, I can do that." The girl reached over and popped open the top of the cup.
"Given the outburst of energy that is likely to result from your actions in approximately 39.25 seconds, I recommend that you be returned to your home and family now," said the Hologram.
The young Creeks-de Spain rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I think so, too."

With that, ELVIS returned the girl to her own time.

A burst of bright light escaped the Star Trek cup.

Lieutenant had awakened.

*********************

Most people would panic upon seeing cracks in the sky. Most people would be horrified if they saw the sky suddenly dissolve. Lieutenant, however, had no such experience. No terror, no fear.

Just sadness.

A deep, penetrating sadness that sank into her bones and chilled her with a profound and inescapable sense of despair. A histrionic reaction? Perhaps. But the sudden cessation of all the beautiful illusions simply served to remind PH of what she had, deep down, known all along:

That she was completely and utterly alone.

Fantasy was all she'd had. And now, that too was gone.

Well, perhaps not gone; but the fantasy was back to being inside her head, on the paper, instead of playing out before her in a safe and warm and well-controlled environment. And the friends that she'd carefully constructed for herself were all dissolved.

Reality paled in comparison to the imagination. Her real-life friends, if you could call them that, were scattered. And the only character that she really had left was her silly, impulsive *mistake* Rebecca.

And she was alone.

With a sigh of something like failure, PH opened the trapdoor of the auxiliary room.

And promptly shut it again.

She froze for a second as her freshly-awoken mind tried to process what she'd just seen. Lassiters 37A and B lying unconscious on the floor? A sad-looking Rebecca and a worried-looking Juliet hovering around them? What in heck could possibly be going on?

Lieutenant didn't know. But she knew for a fact that she needed a very, very long moment to compose herself before she went anywhere. Quietly, she tapped the aging computer console lying in a heap on the floor, connected to a power outlet by an old laptop battery cable. "Computer, make me some tea, Earl Grey, hot. ...and make it a double."

After finishing both cups of tea (and not apologizing for it, thank you very much), PH again opened the trapdoor just a tiny crack, a slit just barely wide enough to see through.

Something was happening in her TARDIS, and come heck or high water, she was going to find out what.
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