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Post by The Master on Sept 26, 2011 23:21:13 GMT -5
Findovar, High King of the Court of Autumn, Master of the Hall of Glittering Stones, entered his chambers.
The day had been long and tiring, taxing even the boundless reserves of one of the lords of the Sidhe. There had been a wake for Jadris, High Queen of the Winter Court, seven days of revels and funeral games glorifying her life.
A glory that was hollow, dust and ashes. She had died the true death, her matrix stripped away and her carcass left to rot where it had been slain.
And so, after seven days of funeral orgies, Findovar crossed the gulfs of space to Alphecca - or, as it was known by those who favored science over poetry, Corona Borealis Alpha - and entered his Hall. He was disquieted, for Jadris had been the second High King to die the true death in as many weeks.
He unfurled his cloak himself, not wanting servants near him in his dark mood. And then, as he turned to wave the silmirils alight, he saw that he had a guest.
Findovar's lips thinned with distaste. "Robin Goodfellow," he said with just a faint bitter edge of distaste.
"Could be," agreed the redhead with a cocky grin. "Very well could be that I am that merry wanderer of the night."
His breath slowly hissed between his lips. "To what do I owe the... pleasure... of this visit, my lord Puck? What has the banished lackey of Auberon to do with me?"
The Puck met his eyes cooly. "I've heard that the king doth flee from the revels tonight, fearing to allow the cold Queen to come within his sight."
"Enough!" roared Findovar. "I have no interest in your fool's games, Puck, and little interest in anything you have to say. You are still banished; the will of Titania has ne'er been o'erthrown. Begone!"
The Puck rose, swirling his grey coat like a cape, a cane in his free hand. "Little interest?" he asked in a voice like honey. "But I have news of interest to the Courts."
Findovar sighed. "Speak then, Puck."
"But what gift shall I have for my news?"
Findovar's eyes were hard. "What does this news touch upon?"
"Why, my lord Findovar," announced the Puck, his eyes merry, "only upon the identity of the assassin, that foul murderer who has struck down Jadris and Tonatiuh."
"If your words are true," Findovar said, "then ask what reward you may, and I shall not withhold."
"As you wish, my Lord," said the Puck with a bow. And suddenly he was across the room, moving in a way that not even Findovar could see. The Sidhe lord made a gagging sound of pain as something tore at his vitals.
"I am the assassin," the Puck whispered.
Findovar toppled backwards, trying to summon his powers. Even as he did, the Puck was astride him, doing something in his chest that made him try to scream aloud.
"As to my reward," the Puck said, his voice sounding faint and distant in Findovar's ears. He held something up, something that seemed to glow and pulse in Findovar's fading vision.
"This will do nicely," the Puck said, consuming Findovar's still-beating heart.
He squatted by the cooling corpse, patting it on the cheek. "Don't worry," he said, "There are an almost infinite number of possible worlds in which this didn't happen. You'll be back, soon enough."
The Puck flickered and vanished.
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Post by The First Doctor on Sept 29, 2011 21:56:58 GMT -5
The Meddler frowned.
He'd been holed up in his primary laboratory for two days straight, examining and testing the ring the Specialist had taken from Xandavier. The ring he'd dubbed "Éibhleann's Ring". Two days of examination through an image intensifier, of consulting with heavy tomes on the subject of psionic circuitry. Two days straight of banging his head against a nearly insoluble problem.
Éibhleann's energetic matrix was bound into the ring. If she wasn't released, she would never have the opportunity to be reborn. But, if it wasn't destroyed just right, the destruction of the ring would randomize the matrix as well.
He sighed irritably, and pushed himself back from the table. Loathe as he was to admit it, Xandavier was a genius. A demented server-of-food, but still a genius. He had no idea how Xandavier had done it.
The lab door opened, and one of the brownies entered. "Hello, Tonks."
Tonks was... different. Somehow, interfacing with the TARDIS gestalt had given him a deep connection to the ancient time capsule. "Your Majesty," the brownie began.
"Meddler is fine," he broke in, "Or, my Lord the Meddler if you feel a need for formality." A grin. "Or Robin. That's who I am to the courts, after all."
Tonks looked scandalized.
"I'm not a king, Tonks."
"You are Lord of the Hall of the Wind of Change, my Lord Robin."
He started to open his mouth to argue, then changed his mind. Arguing protocol with his self-appointed majordomo always seemed to be a losing proposition. "I'm going to start calling you Jeeves, Tonks."
Tonks gave a look of polite amusement. "You asked to be notified when the Goddess was readying Herself to manifest once more."
The Meddler thought hard about that for a few seconds. "You mean we're getting ready to materialize?"
"Indeed, my Lord Robin."
"You know, Tonks..."
"Yes, my Lord?"
"...Nevermind."
"Very good, my Lord."
I would have known, the Meddler was thinking as he entered the console room, before the materialization sequence started. I'd have felt it in my bones. And then he smiled. It was just the highly efficient not-quite-a-brownie, justifying his place on the TARDIS. He couldn't really fault Tonks for that.
The primary control room was empty, except for Boboel - quantum locked and draped with coats. He waved at the Angel as he crossed to the console, then stopped and stared irritably. The floor around it was covered with bits of food and colored glass and sparkly stones.
The goblins had been leaving offerings again.
"Tonks?"
"Yes, my Lord Robin?"
"Is there a reason why the housekeeping systems haven't taken care of this mess, yet?"
"I took the liberty of disabling them, my Lord."
The Meddler ran through the first hundred prime numbers in a quest for patience. "Why, may I ask, did you disable them?"
Tonks looked horrified. "The automated systems would have removed the offerings without regard for the proper ceremonies."
"Tonks."
"Yes, my Lord Robin."
"There are no proper ceremonies for making food or drink offerings to my TARDIS!"
"As you say, my Lord Robin."
At that moment, the Time Rotor began to grind and moan as the materialization sequence started. His irritation vanished as he checked the coordinates, grinning broadly. "Tonks?"
"Yes, my Lord Robin?"
"With my compliments, please inform my Lady the Specialist and my Lady Si - excuse me, my Lady the Dreamweaver - that we have arrived at the Ile de la Cité, that it is May 13, 2009 by local reckoning, and that I shall await them at the Pont Neuf, where I hope they will do me the honor of joining me in a walk along the banks of the Seine."
Tonks bowed and departed, and the Meddler shook his head. "He's rubbing off on me," he remarked as he claimed his cane from where it stood next to Boboel. "I haven't sounded that formal in centuries."
He laughed, then sang as he strolled through the door.
"There we met and there we parted
"By the lovely river Seine
"Two young lovers broken hearted
"For we knew we'd loved in vain"
The air was cool, the sun warm, the sky blue as a robin's egg. The Meddler leaned on his cane and simply inhaled, enjoying the taste of the Parisian spring. It was magnificent.
And then he felt and tasted a tingling in the air, like static electricity and ozone. "Now what is that?" he asked himself.
The answer was quick in coming. A half-dozen Sidhe, men and women with the physical traits of predatory animals mingled with human features, armored in glass and silver. There was a slight blurring around them, indicating that they wore glamours powerful enough to ward away casual glances.
The group of them stopped some half-dozen paces from him, and their leader bowed. "I am Malekirith, Viscount of Ordoway, Vassal of the Regent of the Hall of Glittering Stone."
The Meddler blinked. "Good to meet you. Is there something I can do for you?"
"Ah! You ask if there is a service you may render?"
"Yes..." the Meddler agreed carefully. "Within reason, of course. I have business of my own to attend to."
Malekirith beamed, an expression made unsettling by a mouth filled with sharp teeth. "If it is not imposing on your kindness, may I ask your name good sir?"
The Meddler smiled thinly. "I am the Meddler."
Malekirith opened his eyes wide. "How? The Meddler?"
A sigh. "Yes, and..."
"The same Meddler known as Robin Goodfellow, and also as the Puck?"
"Yes." His tone of voice was growing irritated.
"Why then, my good Lord Robin, I must ask a favor of you."
Another sigh. "What favor?"
"That you surrender your blade to me. And if then you would see fit to accompany my troop and I to the Hall of the Tuatha de Danu, why, I would be in your debt and will forever speak of you as both friend and gentleman."
"What? Why?"
"My good Lord Robin," Malekirith said, drawing his sword. His troop did likewise. "I fear it falls to me to inform you that you stand accused of the most foul assassination of their Majesties Jadris, and Tonatiah, and Findovar."
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Post by Sisilaya Vulmecura on Sept 30, 2011 11:01:10 GMT -5
Tonks had been a dear creature, she was glad the Goblin King allowed them to be on the TARDIS. Their chaos was sometimes irritating, but it meant mostly she wasn't alone. And not all the goblins had the brains of a peanut, Tonks for example knew how to keep a decent conversation. She had even enjoyed having the small goblin comb her hair when he offered.
When he gave out the invitation the Meddler she had responded with a laugh, the sound echoing. She still had to remind herself to keep her glamour under check. Luckily, Goblin's were used to the true entities of the Fae so right now it did not matter, but she knew she had to keep it under tight control when she was around humans.
"He just had to go to Paris, didn't he? So romantic." She snorted and laughed, going over to her share of the wardrobe she had put together from the main wardrobe. Pulling out her regular cream coloured shirt and waistcoat, now cleaned. After she had.. changed was the best way to put it, she had slept fast for three days. Her body readjusting to her new self.
She nearly had a heart attack when she woke up and found herself something completely new. In just her bathrobe she had sprinted to the console room and had done a bioscan of herself. It was as she thought, her puking incident had abruptly changed into a full fledged initiation. And with that initiation the last of her humanity had vanished. She had taken a long look at the screen, showing her new revolving DNA. She had to sit down when she saw it, in shock. Changing one's looks in a regeneration is one thing, but their whole species? Well, at least she didn't change as drastically as the Time Lords did during a regeneration, she still looked the same.
She had avoided Robin ever since that incident, the kiss still fresh in her mind. She was still in inner conflict about the whole situation with Robin and the Specialist. This woman had apparently been his lover for god knows how many centuries, who was she to get in between that. Yet, feelings of affection did not seem deterred by such a fact. They had only intensified. That and the whole sharing thing did not sit well with her. Fae naturally were not monogamous becauseo f sheer boredom over the centuries of love affairs. Yet, she was still young, just 27 summers old and she did not hold such prejudices and the thought of sharing a lover just did not sit well with her. Her eye caught the Vortex Manipulator on her wrist again, her ticket to independence. Yet, without Robin she would not even have been here. She most likely would have lead a normal human life by now if he had not found her that day in Cardiff.
That or she would have died from a brain haemorrhage due to the malfunctioning capsule in her brain her father had left there.
She shrugged her clothes and weaponry back on, she couldn't just leave. Not like this. Even though she felt uncomfortable around the Specialist. And now they were going to share a walk. She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and going for the doors, saying goodbye to Tonks.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
She had been taking a small jog to catch up with them, she knew she was late. Yet when she caught up with them she was surprised to see Robin surrounded by.. Sidhe?! She stopped in her tracks, this was the actual first time she had seen another one of her mothers race. The higher beings had always ignored her like the plague, her mothers exile meant she was also not welcome. That and the fact she carried human blood made her something that they would wipe their feet on. Well no more human blood now, at least she thought wryly.
"My good Lord Robin," Malekirith said, drawing his sword. His troop did likewise. "I fear it falls to me to inform you that you stand accused of the most foul assassination of their Majesties Jadris, and Tonatiah, and Findovar."
She raised her brows, siding up beside the Meddler. She could see the air changing about their shapes, indeed very powerful glamours. She kept hers well down, holding them for a fool for now.
"Well that's a whole load of rubbish, on what basis are your accusations?" She answered before Robin could.
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Post by The First Doctor on Oct 1, 2011 19:54:34 GMT -5
"Well that's a whole load of rubbish, on what basis are your accusations?" She answered before Robin could.
"My Lady," Malekirith said with a courtly bow, spoiled only by the blade he kept pointed at the Meddler's throat, "If I may but speak two words, I shall explain the matter to your heart's content." He smiled. "But first, may I trouble our mutual acquaintance for an introduction?"
The Meddler smiled thinly. "Malekirith, allow me to introduce my Lady the Dreamweaver, Cousin of the House Unmade."
He looked sidelong at the Dreamweaver. "Dreamweaver, allow me to introduce my Lord Malekirith, Viscount Ordoway, Vassal of the Regent of the Hall of Glittering Stone."
"It is indeed an honor, my Lady the Dreamweaver," Malekirith said with a smile. "And were I not about such tiresome business, I should ask for your hand that I may kiss it." The Meddler bristled visibly, and Malekirity laughed. "Sad to say, my duty to my Regent must be placed ahead of my desires."
He spun his hand in a languid gesture, producing an orb of crystalline material from nowhere in particular. "You are, of course, familiar with the technique known as the Mirror of the Departed Soul?"
The Meddler cocked his head to one side. "Yes. It is a procedure for recovering phonological and visuospatial engrams from the neural and optical tissues of the recently deceased. A procedure of questionable utility as the engrams are susceptible to the generator's own preconceptions and self-delusions, not to mention the rapid rate at which organic nerve tissue degrades after death."
"Bah," Malekirith waved a hand dismissively, causing the orb to dance over his fingertips. "The Lords of Time have always drawn the romance from wisdom, leaving behind only sterile fact." He frowned. "The limitations of the Mirror of the Departed Soul are well known. But, in this case, I fear that you will have to agree that the technique may not be dismissed out of hand."
He gestured, and an image appeared in the orb. It was a stocky, redheaded man with green eyes, dressed in a black turtleneck and a black canvas duster. The Meddler narrowed his eyes at the image.
"You see," Malekirith continued, "We were in time to use the Mirror of the Departed Soul to both see and hear the assassin." The murder played out in the orb, from Findovar's identification of the killer as 'Robin Goodfellow' to the killer consuming Findovar's heart as the orb went black.
"dang him," hissed the Meddler, his free hand clenched into a fist. "dang him."
"And so you see," Malekirith said with a listed eyebrow, "The assassin stands convicted by his own words. Now I only wait to learn whether my Lord Robin will surrender his blade and return to the Halls of the Tuatha de Danu for judgement."
The Meddler glared at the orb, then smiled. "May I ask your indulgence, while I speak with my companion in private?"
"I will not allow you to escape, my Lord Robin."
"No need. We shall stand but two yards distant, and converse."
"Converse on what matter?"
"On whether I shall surrender, or whether we shall do ourselves the honor of resisting."
"Ah! But you see, there are six of us to your two."
The Meddler smiled. "I had not considered that."
"I thought not."
He paused. "Feel free to summon aid, my Lord Malekirith. Should we do ourselves the honor of resisting you, I would not have it said that we did so at unfair odds."
Dead silence for the space of three heartbeats, and then Malekirith laughed. "Take what time you need, my Lord Robin. My instructions say nothing of refusing you your goodbyes."
The Meddler took three steps away, beckoning the Dreamweaver to follow. "I believe," he said, "that I am in serious trouble."
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Post by Alec Harrison on Oct 1, 2011 21:30:35 GMT -5
Alec was stuck in a forest. His Tardis had somehow been stolen, by an entity invisible not only to his eyes, but to any scanners he could raise. He had a compass and a sonic screwdriver. Well, and a cellular phone. But who was there to call? It was a generally easy gesture to make a phone have multichronic abilities, but finding others who had something like it was a whole other matter.
He scanned his contacts list, and noticed he was running out of battery. He needed to make a discision... Who did he have, the Meddler? He seemed like a good choice, if Sisilaya wasn't tagging along. He would have to take that risk.
This might not've been the best time to call...
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Post by Sisilaya Vulmecura on Oct 2, 2011 6:24:04 GMT -5
Sisi's eyebrow slowly rose at the Fae's attempts at flirting. Sure, Robin was an idiot when it came to it, but this man made out of overdoing and art. She glanced over at Robin with a look of 'Seriously?' before she turned back to the Fae at hand, one named Malekirith apparently.
She was somewhat happy that Robin had decided to use her new name, Dreamweaver. If he had introduced her with her real name there was a good chance the Sidhe would have recognised who she was. Child of the exiled. It would have made matters more complicating.
She was shocked as the man produced the orb, but managed to hide it very well. No need to let the others known that they were at an advantage. She had thought only higher Fae could use Crystal magic, like the Goblin King, or her knowledge on it had been wrong. She hoped for the latter.
It was the image inside that shocked her more though, the stocky redhead she knew so well from her youth. She first thought it was Robin before his regeneration and she was appaled by the image of the murder it showed. It then suddenly clicked with her, the memory of the fight with Xandavier surfacing, and the stocky redhead that had been flirting shamelessly with her.
It had been the same man.
It had never clicked during the fight that the Would be King was actually the Robin she remembered from her childhood, too focussed at her own father trying to kill her an Robin to notice. But now that it was more or less shoved in her face she was ashamed at her own error. Oh Danu and the man had been staring at her behind like she'd been a callgirl.
The arrogant tone of Malekirith was starting to get more and more on her nerves by the minute. No one hurt Robin while she was around, thoughts of shutting the man up flitting across her mind.
She followed when Robin gestured her to follow.
"I believe," he said, "that I am in serious trouble."
".. that was your son wasn't it? The Would be King? I had wondered where he had gone.." She whispered, her eyes staring for a moment as she thought of possibilities to get out. She looked down at the bracelet on her wrist, if she got them out of here now, her secret would be out and there was a possibility Robin would take the Vortex Manipulator from her.
Yet, Robin's safety was more important to her.
"Do you need a way out without violence? I have one." She whispered without the Sidhe to hear.
She heard Robin phone go off then.
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Post by The First Doctor on Oct 2, 2011 9:32:07 GMT -5
".. that was your son wasn't it? The Would be King? I had wondered where he had gone.." She whispered, her eyes staring for a moment as she thought of possibilities to get out.
The Meddler made a strangled noise, and calculated the cube roots of the first ten prime numbers. "He's not my son," he said, in a tightly controlled voice.
He drew a deep breath, fighting for control. She doesn't know, and I'm not being fair.
"He's not my son," he repeated. "He's me - one of those yoctosecond long alternate mes that scatter in my wake. He is something I could have been, far out on the hundredth standard deviation on my temporal probability curve." A grim smile. "He calls me 'dad' because it's true in a sense - I birthed him, in a way - and because he knows it irritates me to no end."
A sigh. "But that's what will make it so damnably difficult to convince the Courts I didn't do it. Because, in a biodatic sense at least, I did. And the Courts are unlikely to accept 'it wasn't me it was my evil twin' as a defense."
He caught her glance at her wrist, looked at the tooled leather strap she wore, then looked over at Malekirith. True to his word, the Sidhe warrior was standing, watching and waiting, apparently eying the Dreamweaver with interest. He had a sudden impulse to stab the Viscount right now, and dang the consequences.
"Do you need a way out without violence? I have one." She whispered without the Sidhe to hear.
"That would be ideal, Dreamweaver," he whispered back. "Witty banter aside, I have no confidence in my ability - our ability - to take six warriors of the Red Branch."
Just then, the sound of the Rolling Stones ("Ti-i-i-ime, is on my side, yes it is...") emanated from his breast pocket. Startled, he produced something slim and black, with a flip top cover and a touch screen. "Hello, Alec? Yeah, you've kind of reached me at a bad time." A pause. "No, no, I'm just being arrested on three counts of assassination. Can I call you back?"
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Post by Alec Harrison on Oct 2, 2011 10:32:23 GMT -5
"Hello, Alec? Yeah, you've kind of reached me at a bad time." A pause. "No, no, I'm just being arrested on three counts of assassination. Can I call you back?"
Alec sighed.
"Can't you just, I don't know, teleport me to your location?"
It was obvious that the Meddler was hesitant.
"Have I ever let you down?"
In truth, he had probably let Robin down many times.
"Besides, you owe me one for the plum ordeal." he tried to say loud enough to let Sisalaya hear.
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Post by Sisilaya Vulmecura on Oct 2, 2011 11:07:27 GMT -5
"That would be ideal, Dreamweaver," he whispered back. "Witty banter aside, I have no confidence in my ability - our ability - to take six warriors of the Red Branch."
Just then he answered his phone, Alec it was. That man just kept coming back for more, she thought with a self satisfied smile on her face. She leant in close to the Meddler's face, close to the receiver on his ear. It just so happened to be that the best place was close to the Meddlers mouth..
"Oh no Alec, you owe me for finding your one true love" She hissed into the receiver, her breath fanning out against Robin's lips. She loved riling him on.
Abruptly she turned around to the other Sidhe, with a grand smile on her face as she clapped her hands.
"I am terribly sorry for your inconvenience, Lord Malekirith, but I'm afraid I cannot abide to your request. You see, I have prior engagements with our dear Robin Goodfellow. And the Regent plans interfere terribly with my own. And since your regent has ever been very little use to me in the past, I'm afraid I must put my own needs first. Terribly sorry for that." She said with a smile on her face, of course she wasn't sorry.
She stepped next to Robin and linked her arm with his. She leaned in and kissed his cheek.
"I'm afraid I must take my leave with my murderer for a bit, but I promise to leave him in one piece when we return to Gaia, or well actually, I'll try my best. You never know, right?"
She flipped the leather strap open, showing a small screen with a few buttons. It glowed neon green. She punched in a few buttons. The Sidhe before them cried out in alarm, charging towards them with weapons pointed. She narrowed her eyes and they seemed to slow in time, like moving through water.
"Well, Au Revoir as they say here!"
And with a final push of a button they cracked out of existence, a small spark of static electricity being left behind. The empty space they left was stabbed with various weapons just a split second later. A cry of anger followed.
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They appeared right before the TARDIS doors, and she more or less shoved Robin inside, locking the doors behind them. Jogging over to the console she punched in coordinates for some random mid space, as long as it was away from earth. The Time Rotor roaring to life. They had to get away from earth and fast.
"Well that was close. You should be okay as long as we don't go back to Earth for a while" She mused and looked at Robin square in the eye, finally.
"If the Would be King is you and he needs to be stopped.. we might have an advantage if you take me along for distraction. During the fight with Xandavier he was more busy staring at my rear end then actually looking at the fight."
She cocked her head at him.
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Post by The First Doctor on Oct 2, 2011 15:06:09 GMT -5
He could hear Alec sigh over the phone. "Can't you just, I don't know, teleport me to your location?"
"That's a little... problematic, Alec," the Meddler replied, eying Malekirith and the rest of the Red Branch. "I'm about forty meters from my TARDIS, and only about 3 meters from my accusers."
At those words, Malekirith bowed low.
"Have I ever let you down?" Alec asked.
The Dreamweaver leaned in close, listening in to the conversation. Was it coincidence that her lips were so close to his?
He doubted it.
"Well, no," the Meddler responded, trying to concentrate. "It's just that, well..."
"Besides, you owe me one for the plum ordeal."
"Oh no Alec, you owe me for finding your one true love" She hissed into the receiver, her breath fanning out against Robin's lips.
"Dreamweaver? Please? You really don't make it easy to concentrate..." He slid one finger tip up the length of her of her spine, and toyed with a lock of hair at the base of her skull. Two could play at that game. "Not on the matter at hand, anyway. And I fear I must concentrate right now."
"Anyway, Alec," he said, returning his concentration to the phone, "If I manage to survive the next few minutes, I'll be happy to help you out. Really."
Meanwhile, the Dreamweaver was now talking to Malekirith.
"I am terribly sorry for your inconvenience, Lord Malekirith, but I'm afraid I cannot abide to your request. You see, I have prior engagements with our dear Robin Goodfellow. And the Regent plans interfere terribly with my own. And since your regent has ever been very little use to me in the past, I'm afraid I must put my own needs first. Terribly sorry for that." She said with a smile on her face, of course she wasn't sorry.
"My Lady the Dreamweaver," Malekirith responded, "Were it left to me, I should allow you to pusue your needs." He smiled, showing his mouth of shark's teeth again. "But it is not left to me and, as you are Sidhe, you must understand as well as I that the requirements of the Courts surpass all individual desire."
His expression turned sad, than bright again. "But if I may but call you 'friend', and if you would but consent to give me leave to touch my lips to your hand, why then? Then I should consider you a friend indeed, and speak as a friend in the defense of my Lord Robin..."
She stepped next to Robin and linked her arm with his. She leaned in and kissed his cheek.
The Meddler looked a little startled. "Dreamweaver?"
"I'm afraid I must take my leave with my murderer for a bit, but I promise to leave him in one piece when we return to Gaia, or well actually, I'll try my best. You never know, right?"
She did something with the tooled leather bracelet she'd been wearing, revealing a screen and several buttons. "Dreamweaver?" he said again, staring at the... the museum piece on her wrist. "What are you doing?"
The Sidhe before them cried out in alarm, charging towards them with weapons pointed. She narrowed her eyes and they seemed to slow in time, like moving through water.
"Well, Au Revoir as they say here!"
Before he could say anything, the ground seemed to fall out from under them. He staggered as he felt familiar stone underfoot, disoriented by a sudden sense of double vision.
He was inside the TARDIS, watching the Dreamweaver set the controls.
He was outside the TARDIS, sombra y corta in hand, frantically duelling all six of the Red Branch at once.
He was inside the TARDIS, listening to the Time Rotor.
He was outside the TARDIS, hearing Malekirith's mocking laughter. "Your lady has abandoned you, my Lord Robin! But have no fear, the Red Branch is far less fickle in their affections!"
And then the double vision stopped. He staggered, clutching the console for support.
What was that? he wondered. It was like... like... He stopped, looking fascinated and terrified at the same time.
"Like when I was in the Time War..." he whispered.
"Well that was close. You should be okay as long as we don't go back to Earth for a while."
"Huh? What?" he said, as her words shook him out of his thoughts. "Oh. No, it's not that simple. The Sidhe aren't bound to a single world or time. They'll have trouble finding me - us - but avoiding Sol-3 won't stop them."
She looked at Robin square in the eye, finally. "If the Would be King is you and he needs to be stopped.. we might have an advantage if you take me along for distraction. During the fight with Xandavier he was more busy staring at my rear end then actually looking at the fight."
"Well, and who could blame him?" the Meddler answered with a subtle smile. Then his face grew serious. "It could work. And even if you aren't a distraction for that reason, your blade is of a reasonable length, and I warrant you know how to play with it..."
His voice trailed away. With a groan, he thumped his head on the console. "Between Tonks and the Red Branch, I'm falling prey to overly ornate and archaic phrasing."
Just then, a question came from the phone. "Oh, yeah. Alec? Let me get your coordinates from my phone, and we'll be there in... let me see..." He tapped at the controls, altering course. "About an hour, TARDIS time. Call it about three minutes, local."
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Post by Sisilaya Vulmecura on Oct 3, 2011 11:55:45 GMT -5
"Well, and who could blame him?" the Meddler answered with a subtle smile. Then his face grew serious. "It could work. And even if you aren't a distraction for that reason, your blade is of a reasonable length, and I warrant you know how to play with it..."
A small blush tinted her cheeks at his compliment, he knew how to catch her attention like that every now and then. And ever since that kiss they had shared after her 'initiation' she had grown beyond fond of Robin. Yet, when he turned serious, so did she, initially. His words ended with a snort from her side. She laughed as he headdesked his console more or less.
"I wouldn't call it just archaic phrasing. If I had been a man that sentence would have gotten a very different meaning! Oh yes, my blade is certainly of reasonable length and I know how to wield it very well my Lady" She laughed and wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively. Robin's dorkiness was hilarious sometimes.
She tensed somewhat when he talked to Alec again, she had only recently found out that he was Xandaviers first son, her halfbrother. And as expected, Alec and her couldn't stay in the same room for longer then 10 minutes. Somewhere, the though of him being Xandaviers oldest son, his wanted son had left her bitter. All their father had ever tried to do for her, was get rid of her.
She pushed the thought from her mind, sitting down on one of the winged sofa's, crossing her legs. She had hidden the Vortex Manipulator again, perhaps Robin would conveniently forget about it. She wasn't ready to part with the thing yet.
She spoke up happily.
"Well, where to now? We going after the Would Be King?"
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Post by The First Doctor on Oct 3, 2011 16:02:32 GMT -5
"I wouldn't call it just archaic phrasing. If I had been a man that sentence would have gotten a very different meaning! Oh yes, my blade is certainly of reasonable length and I know how to wield it very well my Lady" She laughed and wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively. Robin's dorkiness was hilarious sometimes.
The Meddler's face grew serious, although the impact was muted by the button shape imprinted on his forehead. "I suspect," he said, gravely, "that a woman could still talk about blades and the wielding thereof with entirely the same 'different meaning'. All that would be different would be the particular fencing style - who has the right of way, whether one engages passata-sotto or in quartata or simply lunges, if the blade is handled en coupé or arrêt à bon temps or simply point-in-line, and - of course - whether or not the blade is placed in too short for the defender to respond." There were wrinkle lines of suppressed laughter around his eyes and mouth now. "And of course, whether one simply crosses over. Regardless of the technique, I have heard that, unlike in other schools of fence, the double touch is considered the optimal outcome of the match."
He managed to maintain his straight face for several long seconds, before dissolving into singgering laughter.
As the conversation turned to Alec, he could sense the tension in her. He might not be psychic, but he was still pretty good at body language. When he paid attention, anyway. He watched her cross to the sofa, trying to hide the leather bracelet, and smiled.
She spoke up happily. "Well, where to now? We going after the Would Be King?"
"Eventually," he said. "But first - and I know you aren't going to be excited about this - we're going to pick up Alec. I won't leave him stranded on..." he checked the coordinates, "...wherever that is. It's bad form. Besides, he might come in handy. He's got a ruthless and, yes, murderous streak that may be useful against the Could've-Been King."
He smiled and shrugged. "And if you don't like that line of reasoning, then just think of him as ablative shielding."
Somewhere in a forest, inhabited by invisible TARDIS-stealing entities...
A roaring, groaning sound could be heard over the hissing of the avioids and the croaking of the mammal-like herbivores. It faded to silence, and then a door opened in a tree. "Alec!" the Meddler called, "C'mon! I'm in a bit of a hurry!"
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Post by Alec Harrison on Oct 3, 2011 17:01:40 GMT -5
The Timelord was sitting against a tree, trying to catch up on lost sleep. He was a horrible sight to behold, but they had seen it before. In fact, it was Sisi's fault. It would become soon obvious that they were not forgiven for the plum, and why should they be? He looked downright beastly. It appeared as though someone has painted the skin all around his eyes black. His vocal cords were deeply affected. His voice was scratchy and intimidatingly low pitched.
He heard Robin calling out, and his eyes bolted open. He was on his feet in seconds, bounding towards the sound of the voice. He wasn't sure if his looks would surprise them- they had all but ignored him when they had done it.
"Coming." he replied in his horrible new tone.
Alec stepped inside the Tardis leisurely, "forgetting" what the Meddler had said about time. He put his arms behind his back, tilting his head slightly.
"Thanks." he said half-heartedly, sourly glancing at the despicable sight of the Dreamweaver.
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Post by Sisilaya Vulmecura on Oct 3, 2011 17:25:41 GMT -5
Sisi just merely blinked blankly as Robin went through various type of fencing methods, the next one even more bizarre then the one before. About half way she started to lose him and she could see on his face that he knew that, the laugh wrinkles appearing at the sides of his eyes. He enjoyed flaunting how intelligent he was.
She flaunted how intelligent she was and poked her tongue out him childishly before she joined him in laughter. Sitting herself down she took that they were going after the Would Be King, but her face fell the moment he mentioned Alec's name, saying the had to pick him up.
"I'd have left him in a dumpster for all I care" she muttered, more to herself really, pinching the bridge of her nose.
The Time Rotor came to a halt, a hallow plonk echoing, signalling they had landed. Robin soon disappeared through the door, after a moment coming back with Alec in tow.
He looked like absolute sh*t.
Good on him. She though with a light scoff, leaning back, sinking into the pillows of the sofa she sat on. She wished she could disappear in them. She could feel Alec's burning stare on her but she decided to do the silent treatment, refusing to meet his eyes. Her jaw remained clenched, just the presence of him nearly made her want to smack him as much as she wanted to smack the unholy sense out of Xandavier.
She turned over and laid down on the sofa, giving Alec her shoulder. Closing her eyes with her fingers interlaced on her stomach.
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Post by The First Doctor on Oct 3, 2011 20:31:25 GMT -5
The Meddler finished his bout of sniggering, and looked up at the Dreamweaver.
Nothing. Just a stare of blank incomprehension.
"Oh, come on!" he said mildly aggrieved. "I just - off the cuff, mind you - strung together the longest fencing double entendre I've ever heard, and this is the thanks I get?" He tried pouting, something his lip really couldn't do, then laughed. "We'll swing by Florence later, spend a year or two there. One of the di Medici's owes me a favor or two, so we'll get you some fencing lessons."
A shrug. "Of course, the joke will probably be a bit stale by then."
The Meddler blinked in surprise as Alec entered the TARDIS, then stuck his head back out the door and looked around. Finally, he pulled himself back in. "Hey, Gene. Where's Paul, Eric, and Tommy?"
The door swung shut as he followed the genuinely terrible looking Alec further into the console room. "Seriously, though, you should have let me check you over in the Infirmary before you left last time. You look like hell...."
Then he noticed the way that Alec and the Dreamweaver were respectively glaring at and deliberately not glaring at each other, thought hard, and came to an uncomfortable conclusion or two.
"Alec," he said, grabbing him by the arm and turning him to face away from the Dreamweaver. "Look, I know I've really misunderstood your love life, and that made me party to really hurting you. Seriously, I was trying to help."
He looked over Alec's shoulder at the Dreamweaver, then back at Alec. "Now look, I've heard of this sort of behavior before. Displacement, it's called - you find yourself unable or unwilling to express your true feelings, so you transform them into something else."
A comradely arm went around Alec's shoulder. "Now, this is probably unworthy of me. I don't own her after all. She's free to make her own decisions. But if you should work up the nerve to pursue her, romantically? Well, I should warn you that I will probably attempt to stab you."
(OOC: And the trend of the Meddler missing the point with Alec continues...)
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