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The Day
May 31, 2011 17:41:38 GMT -5
Post by The First Doctor on May 31, 2011 17:41:38 GMT -5
"Please don't make me answer that question because, honestly, you will not like the answer."
The Meddler started to sputter in outrage again, then stopped and considered the way he was dressed. He shrugged and laughed, just a little. "Yeh, well, Oi guess Oi'm not actually dressed fer a meetin' o' the High Council. Am Oi?"
He watched the Mentalist consider his suggestion, and then sighed as the little man jabbed at the Mentalist's eyes. "Full marks fer tryin'," he said, "but he's gonna hurt yeh fer that."
The Mentalist's hands tensed. "He's right."
"Kill him! Kill him!" the Bookkeeper screamed desperately to the Meddler as he thrashed around, trying to free himself.
The Meddler sighed. "Not likely. Oi didn't staser 'im down at his Initiation, like Oi mebbe should've, 'n yeh can thank the Hunter fer that - don't ask me why, as Oi unnerstand there's a history betwixt the two o' yeh, an' there's no real point to killin' him now. He's more use alive to us in the War, after all."
He strolled forward, keeping both hands clearly visible. "But let's consider, Mentalist. Oi've got an itch what says the little man here should live, so Oi'm wantin' to find out what Oi can do fer yeh to make that happen."
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The Day
Jun 2, 2011 19:35:27 GMT -5
Post by The Mentalist on Jun 2, 2011 19:35:27 GMT -5
The Mentalist smiled slightly as he tried to dodge The Bookkeeper's arms and legs. He missed a good few of the strikes but he took a few as well. They bounced off of him easily, his victim wasn't all that strong. The man was both a 'squealer' and squirmy. In this aspect, his victim was being very uncooperative, with all the lashing out and tears. Also, asking the other man to try and kill him never went well. Often it led to another corpse.
Sighing, irritated, The Mentalist kept a good hold of the thrashing man's wrists. Hearing The Meddler, a slight glint of recognition flashed through the blue eye's of the murderer. "Not likely. Oi didn't staser 'im down at his Initiation, like Oi mebbe should've, 'n yeh can thank the Hunter fer that - don't ask me why, as Oi unnerstand there's a history betwixt the two o' yeh, an' there's no real point to killin' him now. He's more use alive to us in the War, after all." His slight smile became even bigger. The redhead muttered under his breath, to both men. "If you'd all been a bit smarter, you would have killed me when I was born... And history is a mild term for it, but yes, I have ties with that man. Since we were kids, I have made his life a living nightmare and will be the one who ends it and maybe yours too, if you're not cautious.... Oh, I'd say I'm very 'useful' in this war. The only time I've been heralded as 'useful' by this planet." He snarled quietly, speaking to The Meddler. "Just how is The Hunter anyway, I haven't paid him a visit for a while. Hope he's not dead, we have unfinished business." Pausing, he took in the lighter comment addressed directly to him, taking it apart. "But let's consider, Mentalist. Oi've got an itch what says the little man here should live, so Oi'm wantin' to find out what Oi can do fer yeh to make that happen." So, that was the game. Another agreement. I do something for you, you do something for me; simple idea. The Mentalist rolled his eyes and thought for a second before replying loudly. "If you want him to live, get the data-chip from him. I was sent for the chip, it's all I need." The Mentalist didn't want to reveal anymore to these people. They did not need to know who sent him and it made him very uncomfortable to even think about the man who'd sent him.
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The Day
Jun 7, 2011 18:24:39 GMT -5
Post by The Bookkeeper on Jun 7, 2011 18:24:39 GMT -5
The Bookkeeper stopped moving for a moment. He twisted his head so he could at least look at The Mentalist. "Who sent you! You don't understand the importance! This isn't a toy! The other Gallifreyians are insane with power!" He screamed, starting to thrash around again. His face was red by now, and he was screaming his head off.
He stared at the tall burly looking man for a moment. "Please... You don't know what this means to our race..." He said, face in the most pleading look he could muster. He needed to get this out of this and get off the world fast. It would be a race against time to get to his ship...
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The Day
Jun 8, 2011 19:39:59 GMT -5
Post by The Mentalist on Jun 8, 2011 19:39:59 GMT -5
As the squirmer turned to face him, The Mentalist stared to glower at him. His black looks were the scariest thing he could manage at the present time, his hands occupied. Reluctantly listening, he took the comment in. A momentary flicker of fear flashed in his blue eyes; 'Who sent you!'. His stomach sank a little and a lot of what the man said was true, as much as the Mentalist wanted to deny it. He narrowed his eyes, a tuft of red hair falling over his face. "Maybe I don't understand the importance of that chip to you but it has a different, far deeper meaning to me. It really means more to me than I want to admit to you. The chip is not a toy, I get it. Life itself not a toy but, believe me, this game I'm playing isn't fun and the stakes are far too high for me loose. You don't need to know who sent me, you just need to give me that chip-" A slight flare of his nostrils and a blink completely changed him.
This had gone too far; she'd had to take control. He couldn't lie his way out of this one and for once, she believed these two people needed to be told the truth. Most of him was an outright liar, truth didn't come easily to him. But she was the voice of reason: the clear cut, well spoken, knowledgeable, calm and ever present guardian of his head. She didn't come out too often, she tried not to. She liked to spend most of her time controlling who got the body and for how long. But, this time, The Gatekeeper needed to be heard.
As the other man flailed and struggled around, 'The Mentalist', well, a different side of him, kept a firm grip of the man. He was thrashing about violently, the core (the regular Mentalist) had really frightened the other man- whoever he was. She had no idea who he was but, she could pick up from where he left off. A voice at least an octave higher than normal came from The Mentalist's mouth. It was still male but with a distinctive female touch to it. The phrasing was different too. "Please, stop struggling, I can explain this to you. Please, trust me, I will not hurt you. I'm not like him... but I can tell you more about him than he can express in his own words."
She paused, giving a low mutter to 'herself'. "Ooh, that's why I never like taking control... He's such a brute, far too strong for his own good. I've never liked this voice either, I'd like a higher one, this makes me sound very thuggish. And the communication skills have much to be desired too."
The Mentalist gave a feminine sigh. Turning his head, she faced The Meddler. Letting out a tiny smile, she acknowledged him. "Oh, it's you! You're that man from his initiation ceremony, the man who told the other kids off. How nice, he hasn't hurt you yet, you must mean something to him... Please, come over here, I feel you should know about this too." She moved his head, beckoning him over. "Thanks for your patience too. He's a difficult man to deal with."
She'd totally forgotten that these people might not have fully understand his illness. The Gatekeeper was so used to being surrounded by those who understood and shared the problem. She didn't feel it, but it must have been strange for them, to watch such a sudden change, in both gender and attitude, coming from such a man.
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The Day
Jun 8, 2011 20:38:38 GMT -5
Post by The First Doctor on Jun 8, 2011 20:38:38 GMT -5
"Who sent you!" the Bookkeeper screamed. "You don't understand the importance! This isn't a toy! The other Gallifreyians are insane with power!"
The Meddler nodded his agreement. "Yeah, that they are. That they are."
The Bookkeeper's eyes flashed to the Meddler. "Please... You don't know what this means to our race..."
"What could yeh have put on a chip that'd be so important...?" He thought, then shrugged. "On the other hand, it's a chip. Whyn't we just dupe it? Give the Mentalist a copy, an' let him go on his merry way? That way, nobody gets hurt." He smiled, ruefully. "Well, not any more hurt, anyway."
And then the Mentalist spoke. "Please, stop struggling, I can explain this to you. Please, trust me, I will not hurt you. I'm not like him... but I can tell you more about him than he can express in his own words."
The Meddler blinked in surprise. "Oi thought he was just a sociopath."
The Mentalist looked at him with an almost apologetic expression. "Oh, it's you! You're that man from his initiation ceremony, the man who told the other kids off. How nice, he hasn't hurt you yet, you must mean something to him... Please, come over here, I feel you should know about this too." He moved his head, beckoning him over. "Thanks for your patience too. He's a difficult man to deal with."
Cautiously, the Meddler approached. "So, Oi'm guessin' that the Mentalist suffers from a dissociative identity disorder? That's rare in us Time Lords. But Oi'm ramblin'. What should Oi call yehs?"
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