Time Traveling Adventures

[Issildia Nevar]

Issildia’s face contorted in ice edged frustration as the whisper of boot heels clacked just beyond the entrance into the kitchens. The guards had begun to corner their prey, and the woman feared that soon the Doctor would be witness to the more grisly, albeit useful of her skills. They needed to make a clean break if the men sighted she and the Doctor climbing up the dangling cables it would ruin the beauty of her silent escape.

Quickly the raven headed woman began fiddling with the laces at the back of her gown, there was no point in staying in her guise as Lady Trevena, and a dress was hardly suited for the heat of combat. Wordlessly as her digits pried at the silk knots to reveal the back of a charcoal hued exo suit as the velvety fabric of the dress was peeled away, her eyes scanned her surroundings to sight the tools that would be appropriate for the coming encounter. Granted they were in a kitchen, and as kitchens go no matter the era there tend to be plenty of sharp implements that make fine makeshift weapons. A wood block of knives varying in size from a butchers cleaver to delicate cheese cutting blades resided on the counter beside the pantry to her right. A large island counter-top used for preparing meat and vegetables resided in the middle of the room , along with large clay urns filled with cooking oil set at the floor…

A single dark eyebrow arched as Issildia caught distantly the words of the Doctor, her lips pursed tightly as her mind was at work with what was about to transpire.
“I certainly hope so Doctor.” She uttered distantly in reply before her mind snapped back to the present. Ripping at the gilded sleeves of Lady Ashford’s dress Issildia finished tearing the garment from her body to leave it in a coppery pile on the floor. The exo suit she wore was somber in the still flickering light of the baking ovens that lay a smoking along the walls.

In the seconds that followed Issildia snatched several lengthy knives from the wood block to the side, knives she hoped were more suited to be thrown than fought with.
Turning back to the Doctor briefly with a dark glimmer in her eyes, she set her free hand to the sliding panel door to the dumbwaiter.
“You need to go now, don’t stop, don’t look back. “ She said firmly with tight resolve.

Behind her the sound of footsteps ceased, the two Torchwood agents coming turning around the corner.

“Eh! You!” They swore as the hiss of their blades being drawn was heard upon sighting the strangely dressed woman.

Issildia ignored them utterly, having expected their entrance at any moment.

“There is a fire escape on the western wall of the roof, use it. “ Pausing briefly she caught his eyes with an unyielding gaze wrought of iron. “No heroics this time….Time Lord”

With a harsh bang she slammed the panel back in place to shut the dumbwaiter utterly, barring the guards’ hope to reach the Doctor.
It was then that the tromp of heavy footsteps approached behind , and the huntress turned to face her opponents.

[The Tenth Doctor]

"So....she knows that I'm a Time Lord," the Doctor thought to himself. "Wonder if she knows I'm the last of.....

When the woman had taken off the dress, the Doctor hadn't been surprised one bit to see clothing that was from a later time period. The Doctor would have to ponder her identity later. Right now, he had to just climb. Knowing that his sonic probably wouldn't work, he activated it anyway. If he could eliminate the climb, it would make things easier.

Sighing he began his climb up to the top. Once there, he climbed out, immediately looking for the fire escape that his new "friend" had spoken of.

"It would have been nice if that had worked," the Doctor said quietly.

[Issildia Nevar]

Issildia turned on the two men her gaze hardening as the guards made no illusion about their intent as raised swords rose like silver washed teeth towards the woman.

Two knives probably used for cutting meat or fruit with cruelly serrated edges were set in either hand, with a deft flick of movement Issildia had the first poised between her fingers, blade down. Again with a sweep of movement as the first of the men came within mere feet of her the huntress sent the weapon through the air with a practiced throw.

The second she did not bother to waste on a throw as the first man, a slender wisp of a boy no older than seventeen yelped in pain as the first blade impacted his rips with a mortal shriek.

The second red coated individual paused with a look of sickening surprise. A subtle twitch of a smirk was all that registered on Issildia's lips as she strode forward as though to attack the elder of the two guards as well. Yet her main attentions seemed else where as she rudely kicked in one of the clay urns of cooking oil, the coppery stuff sloshing all over the floor to create a sickly odor about the room.
...She was going to need a way to keep the Queen and her toy soldiers occupied if she was going to make it out of this gilded trap.

"What are you doing!?" The guard still standing demanded with a faint stutter, his comrade still writhing on the floor, his futile motions becoming slower and weaker until the young lad ceased movement all together; blood mingling with the thick oil.

Issildia granted him a flat stare before returning to her work, kicking in another clay urn to spill more of the foul smelling liquid about the floor. A sound abruptly broke the pregnant pause between them, the click of a single shot pistol.

"I'm warning you woman!" He growled, training his weapon on her chest.

This evidently caught the huntress's attention as she ceased in her grimy work and came to stand calmly still , edged in her customary frost edged composure beside the smoldering brick oven. The large table-counter-top in the middle of the room stood between them as those shadow veiled storm shaded eyes rose to his.

In her hands rested a tallow dip candle, taken from the basket by the dumb waiter.

"It never ceases to astound me." The onyx headed woman murmured as she reached over to set the waxed wick into the glowing cinders to catch a flame.

"How you men have it in your mind that the females of your species are some how beneath you." She uttered with a sour bitterness in her speech.

The man shook the weapon at her, his teeth barred in anger.

"Filthy witches...the lot of you!" He trumpeted bravely.

A bitter silence that lasted but a moment passed between them, tense like a taught bow string.

Her eyes glittered like fire brazed gems as her hand lowered with the burning tallow candle to drop the minute flame amid the oil coated floor.


"Then you can burn with me."


A gunshot rang out as the flames roared into life.

[The Tenth Doctor]

(waiting on Six or Eight or Scarlett)

Ten began to pick his way along the fire escape. Heights were not his favorite thing, but he had gotten more used to them than some of his earlier regenerations.

He had no doubt that there would be Torchwood guards on the ground, and they would certainly be looking for him, especially with his escape. Still, he needed to make it to his TARDIS. Perhaps the guards wouldn't find him for a while.

Ten climbed down, not entirely trusting the fire escape to hold his weight, but having no other choice, he gritted his teeth and began the decent.

[The Eighth Doctor]

Eight gave a slight nod at Tyler and added Six into his message. Sadly, humans do try to turn things into their own advantage, especially when it comes to personal wealth. It would be best to just keep ourselves as separate people. While there are some humans I'd trust to the ends of the galaxy and beyond I'm not so sure about this one. Perhaps she is trustworthy, perhaps not but I don't think this is the time to take any chances.

"Same people?" he said aloud. "That's rather an impossibility, isn't it? We're pretty far from being twins!"

[Issildia Nevar]

~The hiss of flames belched forth from the kitchen, an acrid puff of smoke rolled out of the servants corridor to begin emerging within view of the ball room. The pungent scent of burning fry oil soon followed as a sharp detonation announced that the kitchen fires had reached more flammable items to feed its fury. Startled cries ricocheted about the gilded chamber as the silk skinned nobles came to realize that the building was now aflame. The fires were at the moment contained to the kitchens, but as they were fueled by oil, water would do little to quiet them. It appeared that there would be no stopping the inferno unless the flames might be suffocated before reaching uncontrollable heights. Yet as this moment of dire emergency escalated , the Queen herself seemed to have vanished along with the black clad Torchwood agents who had ringed the upper stair. ~

~Rusted iron tinged with frost resided beneath the Tenth Incarnation’s fingers in his decent down the fire escape. Below a curious scene was unfolding as smoke began to boil forth from the lower windows and coil restlessly about the adjoining alleyway.
Figures clothed in ebony waistcoats stood below, their number no more than half a dozen arrayed about a plump figure that could be no one other than her majesty, Queen Victoria.

The waist-coated figures bore silver embellished emblems on their stiff collars which resembled the Victorian era sigil of Torchwood. At their belts were silver edged blades along with similar single shot pistols to the ones that the guards wielded. Save for these firearms carried the infamous silver bullets to ward off lupine blooded enemies.

The Queen’s features were creased into a sour frown as two of the Torchwood agents; one a man and the other a woman who was garbed in a similar uniform save for it sported a skirt instead of trousers, came to stand protectively in front of Her Majesty.

“Tell me, Sir Doctor” Trumpeted the shrill voice of Queen Victoria, her aged features twisting in an expression of pride supported by her anticipated victory. Within those glimmering orbs that inspected the Time ,so carefully hidden was a faint element of wariness, for she knew well what this man was capable of.

“What may I ask, led you to presume that you might, in any stretch of the imagination, step foot in my empire again!?”~


~
Her shoulder was on fire, as though heated lead was being poured through her veins with every tensing of her arms as Issildia hauled herself up the dangling cables of the dumbwaiter’s pulley shaft. She had been a fool to let that guard live, in her pride to let the Victorian Torchwood agent witness her destruction of the manor he was set to guard. He had been fortunate in his aim as now the lead bullet resided amid the bloody mess that was her left shoulder. If the projectile has passed through and though, perhaps the pain would have been less, and her situation less dire; But the metal ball still rested amid a tangle of sinew and blood as the huntress returned to her training to fight past the pain and complete her mission. Years had been spent by Torchwood teaching her to resist the compelling sonata of pain in order to keep herself alive long enough to complete any assignment given to her. In an effort to keep the blood loss and gut wrenching pain from rendering her unconscious from shock, Issildia had relied on her teaching of the pain gateway. The brain can only handle so many nerves signaling pain at once, and often one can utilize a smaller yet more prevalent hurt to block out the rest. As such the woman had wasted no time in slicing an ugly gash across her palm with one of the knives out of the nearby woodblock as she kicked aside the body of the second guard who had managed to shoot her. It had taken merely the application of another well aimed knife to finish him off.


As she climbed she made certain to forcefully torture the sliced palm with the rough metal of the cables to cause the torturous sensations emanating from the gunshot wound to fade to a manageable level.

As Issildia towed herself through the small dumbwaiter door at the top of the shaft she quickly located the nearest upper story window that had access to the western fire escape. As the blue eyed creature slid out into the cruel whipping winds of the winter night, her vision clouded for a moment as a wave of dizziness passed through her body. She potentially had minutes before her body went into shock, only adrenaline along with sheer will would keep her from going unconscious.

Warm rivulets of blood wept down from her shoulder over the slick skin of her exo suit as Issildia caught the hum of voices below. Upon clambering out onto the rusted , ice stricken fire escape instinct caught hold of her as her Spiridon genetics took over and her form wavered for a moment within the darkness before becoming utterly invisible to the naked eye.

As again she fought back a wave of dizziness from the blood loss as Issildia began her decent, taking as much care as her battered body could to make as little noise as possible. She could only assume that the Doctor was somewhere below, and if the worse had transpired, he was not alone…

[The Tenth Doctor]

Tyler received Eight's message and sent back to him, "Makes sense....who would go around and say...oh that's another version of me....unless.....do humans regenerate?"

Eight's comment to the girl claiming to be named 'Jane Doe,' slightly annoyed him. He thought to himself, "Is that really how he sees me....and is that how he understands being a twin? Being the same person? We're not identical, and we never were....but....but is this how he sees us?"

Tyler's face went from anger to confusion to sadness in a course of seconds. He said nothing about it, though.

___________________
As Ten looked up, he couldn't help but notice the Queen. Taking a deep breath, he knew that he'd been caught when the Queen had spoken to him.

Now the question remained -- how to answer her.

“Tell me, Sir Doctor What may I ask, led you to presume that you might, in any stretch of the imagination, step foot in my empire again!"

Lifting his hands up in what he hoped would be taken as a human act of surrender, the Doctor gave his reply.

"Your Majesty.....well......the thing is....I...enjoy dancing...yes...and I had heard about the ball. It's just that I....I had forgotten to take the year into consideration......I mean you no harm.....and the moment I remembered....I was just going to leave.....yes..."

"Now...this was a mistake....just...just let me pass...and I will be gone from your Empire...."

The Doctor stopped and listened. With his excellent Time Lord hearing abilities, he thought he heard someone behind him. Hoping it was his mysterious female friend, he did not glance back to check. He didn't want to draw attention to her.

If they didn't let him pass, he would have to find a way passed the Queen and her guards, and run. Looking around, he weighed his options. There was an alley nearby -- but would it take him near enough to his TARDIS? And what about the Sixth and Eighth versions of himself?
”

[Issildia Nevar]

Her Majesty’s face screwed up into a sour expression as the Doctor came to reply. As he continued on about his reason for coming to the event, Victoria faintly rolled her eyes in disgust. Her voice as sharp and bitterly cold as the winter night surrounding them as she came to speak again.

Oh Yes!” She barked. “Just let you escape when you have shown tonight that you make a mockery of my words, and you evidently presume my threats to be idle!” Her shoes clacked against the rime covered bricks at her feet to move towards the Time Lord by a few feet, the circle of black clad Torchwood agents tightening their ring to continually protect their mistress.

“You have displayed this night your pathetic ability to heed my warning and stay out of my kingdom, for indeed here you are Doctor!” She crowed boldly as the hiss of swords being drawn heralded her final words.

“No, Sir Doctor, you are to dangerous to be allowed to gallivant off on your merry way…I am afraid we must take things into our hands now, for the safety of the Crown and the Empire.” The queen proclaimed as the silver embellished Torchwood agents began to move towards the man, their blades gleaming evilly amid the dark light. The woman agent nearest the Queen took out the single shot pistol at her belt and took unwavering aim at The Doctor cocking the hammer menacingly back.

~ Blood splattered against the frost edged iron work of the fire escape as Issildia’s invisible figure moved closer to the scene below. Already she had managed to make her way to the landing just above the Time Lord, her hand still clutching at the bullet wound that was continuing to leech the life out of her shoulder. Inwardly she cursed at the danger present here in this moment, yet at the same time she could only be pleasantly surprised at how well the night was going. The stage was being set, and Issildia could not fail at playing her part.
Attuned senses then picked up a defiant click of one of the Torchwood agents cocking a pistol below, the weapon aimed directly at the Doctor.

She had little time to act, and the huntress could only hope that she was low enough now that a fall from this height would not shattered any bones when she landed. A good twenty feet lay between her and the ground, but there was little choice for the cerulean eyes agent as she gripped the metal railing with purpose and roughly threw herself over the edge.

An icy wind tore through her slender body as she descended, tearing brutally at her onyx locks before a sharp wave of agony rocketed through her body upon impact. Issildia bit her lip in protest, the coppery taste of blood filling her mouth as her concentration broke and her form emerged into clear sight only meters away from the Queen herself.

The sensations of blood mingling with saliva faded back along with the heavy thrum of pain emanating from her shoulder as the scene changed drastically. Adrenaline flooded her system, a trained response as her body began to feel strength pour temporarily back into it. Now was the true test of her devotion to her masters, for if the Doctor could not be kept alive long enough to return to the Institute…then Issildia Nevar no longer had a purpose...
..

[The Tenth Doctor]

The Doctor quickly scanned for a possible escape route. He could run, yes he could run....but the sound of a gun preparing for a shot alerted him to the fact that he probably would not make it even if he ran. Still, though, he had to try. The Queen's agents hadn't entirely encircled him yet. If he didn't escape now, then certainly they would learn what regeneration was.

He announced to the Queen, "Well, the thing is.....I'm not so easy to kill....."

It was then that he made his move. Tuning quickly from years of escaping traps, he began running....running as fast as he could. He didn't know whether or not he would make it, but this was his only chance, if he wanted to remain in this regeneration.

[The Eighth Doctor]

(Was waiting for Sage's input but they're still on sick leave, I guess.)

Eight was about to continue walking down the great stone steps but something made him pause and look back. There seemed to be some activity not generally expected at a royal birthday party but also something else. Some thread of tension tickling the back of his brain, like a faint warning he was in danger. But how could he be? He was here, right now, along with his Sixth self, wasn't he? Still he couldn't ignore it. More than once that faint whisper had saved him.

He reached out to take his brother's arm. "Something's going on," he said, frowning.

[Issildia Nevar]

The Torchwood Agents clad in their midnight garbs immediately started forward after the Doctor, the Queen not even giving the order of pursuit as her alien hunting agents were all too keen to catch their prey. It was then that a crystalline sharp voice cut through the shade veiled alley, the voice ringing with clarity to even reach the ears of the retreating Doctor.

“That is enough…your Majesty” Issildia spoke, her voice undiminished by the darkness, like the lone nightingale amid the first glow of the dawn. The coppery flavor of blood swam about her tongue, the taste only serving to alight some feral instinct to survive within her consciousness. Her arm was going numb from the shoulder down Issildia surmised as she roughly flexed her fingers. She was a bloody mess, Her face was cut and stained with still fresh flowing scarlet, her hand that she had intentionally sliced still dribbling those dark crimson droplets. Her eyes gleamed like some half dead wolf bent on surviving to the next day no matter what foul acts it had to accomplish.

The Queen whipped around on her heels, her movement albeit faintly clumsy but swift. Her agents paused in their onward rush after the Doctor, their faces hardly betraying their surprise of the new piece in play.

“Who are you!?” Victoria demanded savagely, the female Torchwood Agent moving to stand between the Queen and Issildia, whose form was half obscured in the shadows.

Again that clear voice cut through her exhaustion and her fading strength, Issildia could not fall now, not when her life and that of the Doctor was hanging in the balance.

“A traveler, you Majesty” Issildia stated tightly, the thrum of fear boiling in her ears, it was a sensation that she normally did not experience, but the huntress was well aware of her state, and her ability to fight. Oh perhaps she could disable a few of the agents, depending on their combat skills, and certainly on their aim with a pistol. But even the Institute’s little experiment had very clear physical limits. And she had a primitive bullet still in her shoulder, her arm losing motor function, bleeding out. There was a silent hope that the Doctor was indeed what the rumors had said, the oncoming storm, a man who could destroy an entire Dalek legion and walk away unscathed.

A dark chuckle escaped Victoria’s lips as she shook her head.
“Yes, another traveler…like him!?” She trumpeted boldly, waving her arm wildly in the Doctor’s direction. At her gesture, two of the Torchwood agents a young man and the female with the pistol shot off after the Time Lord.

A cynical smile crossed Issildia’s lips, only her ears catching the irony. “ No, your Majesty. “ She spoke roughly, the pain she was pressing back coming to bleed through into her voice.
“I am something quite different.”

Suddenly the huntress poured every ounce of desperation into her body, reviving the last bit of strength she held into the next short moments. Her body shot forward, muscles going numb with the effort as her heart thundered heavily in her chest, her pulse blocking out all sound in her ears. The remaining three agents caught on to her act before Issildia began to move, their own black clad forms rushing towards her. The snap of a blade being drawn was the only sound announcing the clash as Issildia whipped her leg up into a solid kick, her booted heel smashing into the jaw of the first man to get within striking distance. All at once she was upon him as his body reeled in shock from the blow, the strange azure eyed woman grabbing the hilt of the rapier at his belt to snatch the weapon into her own hand.

She stumbled briefly as a wave of dizziness rolled through her body, her vision wavering as it caught the sight of the Queen retreating with one of the agents at her side back out towards the street. Three of the men still remained, and in her current state Issildia would consider herself lucky if she could bring them down and make her own escape.


(Ten feel free to play the two agents that the Queen sent after you)

[Bryan Wilkeson]

Kyra was feeling very useless in this moment as she clung to her boyfriend. She didn't know what to do, and barely knew what was going on. She wanted so badly to go home... But there was another part of her... A bit that she had hidden away for some time wanted desperately to just get away from everyone, to take Tyler and just run, run and never stop, running from something unknown and unseen.

[Susan Foreman]

Susan raised her eyebrows as Tyler fumbled around for his words. "You said you were from Gallifrey," she insisted, frustrated. "And that couldn't be in a play you're doing because I know Gallifrey is a planet," she placed her hands on her hips and glared at the men -and Kyra. "You are all impossible," she grouched, stumbling away on the ice. "'Go to New York,' he says. 'Cold, cold New York!'. Weeeell, why couldn't we have met up in Fiji, hmmm? Warm, warm Fiji!" she hissed under her breath, perpetually unhappy. "Forget it. I'm as human as they come. That's me. Human. Completely human. Gallifrey, you say? What's that? Some sort of Chinese word?" she ranted quietly, flailing her arms as she slid on a patch of ice. "Definitely Chinese, I bet. Probably means 'fool' or something,"

All right, Six folded, deciding that his future self and his brother was right. Humans couldn't be trusted - even if they were funny to annoy. But if that were true, then why was he constantly picking up humans as though they were stray cats? "What do you mean something's wrong?" he asked, looking at Eight. "I don't feel anything out of the ordinary," he told him, trying to concentrate on his feelings. He was feeling tense and paranoid; but that was usual for him. In fact, whenever Six found himself not feeling noticeably tense or paranoid, he got considerably more anxious than usual. The Doctor was a bundle of nerves in this regeneration. He was fidgety and reckless because he was terrified that if he stopped moving, something terrible was going to happen.

"Well," he continued quietly, trying to brush away his thoughts, "if we're going to leave, then I suggest we do it. Where would we go?" he asked.


ooc| sorry for being gone so long and then giving you guys a crappy post /:

[The Tenth Doctor]

Tyler glanced at Eight. The grip on his arm was tight, accenting the seriousness of the situation. Tyler's reply was immediate. "What is it?" He asked this in the same seriousness of the tone that Eight had uttered his statement.

He then turned to look at Kyra, worry written all over his face.

Tyler's attention was then drawn to the rather loud mouthed and bold woman. Raising his eyebrows at her he nodded. He was still unaware of the fact that humans were supposed to know about aliens or other planets. However, one thing was certain -- some humans -- the humans back at the ball -- looked down on aliens. This woman, though, didn't seem to.

Once again, worry that this woman would tell on him -- on all of them -- flooded his thoughts. "I....I......yes...Gallifrey is a planet.....but...but.....please don't report us. This is my first time on this planet, and I don't know the customs yet....we mean no harm...we're just....having a vacation here."

Tyler looked back at Susan, confused. "Wait.....New York? What is New York? I thought we were in some place called London. Is New York another name for London?"

Tyler's Time Lord hearing had picked up Susan's frustrated quiet speech.

_____________
Ten continued to run, the two Torchwood guards attempting to catch up. The alien they were chasing, though, was outrunning them.

[The Third Doctor]

[Temping as the two Torchwood agents]

Bloody hell, but this Doctor was fast.

For about the dozenth time in half as many minutes, William Harris swore inwardly at himself as he attempted to catch up to the fleeing Doctor figure. Well, at this point it wasn't so much as catching up as simply attempting to keep up. William had never been the fleetest of foot, admittedly. He could sprint well enough, sure, but not manage himself in a sustained chase like this. One of the others would have been much better suited to the willy-nilly chase that was unfolding.

Still, the Queen herself had personally ordered him and his partner, Emily Worden, to corner and catch this man. He wasn't stupid enough to deny Her Majesty's order.

But bloody hell. This Doctor was fast.

Behind him, Emily was having an even rougher time in keeping up. William may not have been the quickest thing on two feet, but at least he wasn't hampered by skirts, petticoats, and heels! "Mister Harris! Go! Just... GO!"

The frustration showing on her features in a most unladylike manner, the petite woman waved her hand clutching the small pistol in an effort to urge her lumbering companion onward. He had better not be holding back for her sake. dang fool could be to much of a gentleman. No time for such nonsense here! They had a Doctor to catch, and she certainly wasn't in much shape to scurry about in these clothes.

Behind them, Emily could pick up the sound of a scuffle. Hard as it was, she had to resist turning her head. The other Torchwood agents would keep the Queen safe. They had to. What kind of a proper agent would she be if she couldn't even put her faith in the other fine men and women of the agency?

"William!" She spat again, this time dropping the usual formalities that lingered in her speech. "GET HIM." Had she a clear shot she would have taken it. Unfortunately, with only one bullet in her gun she would rather save it for a sure hit. If only William would slow him down...!

Grimacing at the small woman's shrill command, William leaned into his run and pounded forward as fast as he could, chest heaving from exertion. Bloody hell...!