All together now {Tag: ALL TIME LORDS}

[The Mentalist]

(Excuse the rubbish quality.)
It had been a long time since they'd been all dressed up together. They were very late.

Grabbing his arm and hauling him along the corridor, she cussed at her pocket watch. As the hand quickly ticked on, she became more ticked off. He couldn't drive a TARDIS, she had made a huge mistake letting him anywhere near the console. Now they were late because he couldn't drive.
She shoved the watch back in her tiny purple clutch bag, grabbed the hem of her dress and ran sown the corridor, high-heels clacking on the floor. The pad of heavy shoes thundered behind her.

The pair noticed a person go through the door first. The lady stormed on ahead, leaving the man to catch up. He was never far from her. Giving his red beard a quick scratch, he shoved his free hand in his pocket and walked on behind her.

When the woman entered the room, she stood still. A small congregation of Time-Lords had gathered round a table. Some had their backs to her, but, she didn't care. They were there. There were more- it was so strange to see them all. It was beautiful.
The woman looked to the Specialist, a diadem on her brow. The woman was in awe. She had only read about the famed diadem, thinking the royal family of Gallifrey was just a myth. To see it for real was wonderful. She nodded her head in respect and spoke, as quiet as normal,
"I apologize for being so late. I apologize on behalf of my partner as well. The Psychologist and The Mentalist, reporting."
She felt shabby in her dress now. Everyone else was so well dressed. The deep purple fabric of her floor length dress, flowing and shining, looked so tacky compared to everyone else. Her shoulders felt bare and her face showed it all. She looked very unhappy. Even her most prized item, her purple 5-point-star necklace, looked like costume jewelery. The band on her left ring finger looked like painted plastic; even though it was solid, 24 carat gold.
She clammed up, intimidated and inferior to all those around the table.

The man behind her had given her the necklace and he seemed less than bothered by the presence of others. He was not as educated as his lady, the diadem meaning nothing to him. He simply sniffed and gave a half-convincing smile. They probably knew who he was.
Probably wished he was dead by now.
The Mentalist hadn't looked so smart before. A full black suit, with a green shirt and black tie. All pressed well, and very few scars peeking out from under the green cuff. Only those on his hands could be seen. His sleeves had small silver cuff-links, brushed silver. He had no jewelery, apart from the single gold band round his left ring finger. His beard was tidy, his glasses spotless. His red hair was slicked back and he turned to his lady. He took back her hair and kissed her cheek, noticing her posture. He whispered something in her ear and took her hand.

That was the most disturbing part. They were handcuffed together. That was the final accessory to the outfit. The Mentalist's left wrist was cuffed to The Psychologist's right wrist. That way, he couldn't move with her moving too- or her getting hurt. He murmured to the group of Time-Lords,
"She won't trust me. You know how I get."
Her eyes slid over to him.
"Everyone here probably hates you for how you get."
He gave a 'tch' of dismissal and stood by her, waiting for her next move. She was just playing hard to get. He could live with that.

The Psychologist waited to be invited over to the group around the table. She did not want to be rude to any of these people. The Mentalist simply watched, trying to figure out if anyone he knew was there.

[Flynn Delta]

(OOC This is an alternate universe version of Flynn whose bio can be read
Here) Clapping is heard from the back of the room. A man dressed in all black, leaned against the wall a mocking smile is on his face.

"Look at you all, forming a new world, a new society there's only one flaw with you're idea Specialist." He ceases his wall leaning. "You're doing it all wrong!" He shouts "We need not be 'Kind' and 'Helpful' to lower scum we have the technolgy to rule the universe! But you are content to lower ourselves to help the lesser filth of the universe. We are the lords of Time and Space, we deserve to rule all! I know that most likely none will follow me because of the 'royal blood' that runs through the Specialist's vains, but if any of you don't wish to see the Time-Lords become simple servants to lesser races join me in my conquest I am Flynn Delta, I am The Tactian."

AU Flynn

"Your words are hollow and meaningless." Says a newcomer "You are young and stupid you know nothing of what The Time-Lords should be, you are a petty child. Only a fool would follow you. Now be silent or leave" The Newcomer instructs The Tactian. "You are an unwelcome vistor to this Universe, you may be The Tactitan, but I am Flynn Delta"

Regular Flynn

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

The Dreamweaver hadn't really noticed the Meddler's change of behaviour, too busy keeping a close look at the newcomers to see his expression of wonderment at the psionic circuitry in his hand, his first real feel at empathy.

No, the two squabbling men entering both calling themselves 'The Master' took up her face of wonderment. If one called themselves The Master he surely had an ego the size of Gallifrey. She hadn't missed the way the tall black version had looked her up and down like she was a piece of candy, the look on his face soon turning guarded when he most likely realised there was more then just a pretty face there. She raised her chin slightly at him, her eyes hooding just a bit in challenge. I bite back before turning to yet again. She gave a look at the pale other version of the Master, or so he claimed to be. he only seemed to have eyes for the larger black man.

"Presumably," he said, equally softly. "If two copies of the Master can be invited, then I would assume he would have received the message as well."

And as if right on cue a voice right behind her piped up, making her eyes darker a few shades instantly. That voice. Her body tensed instantly, and the Meddler tried out signals of comfort were at least enough for her not to instantly attack the man behind them. Turning to the white haired man she scowled.

The look of appraisal and interest was not something she had been prepared for and she looked taken back, her eyebrows furrowing with suspicion on her face. Her father did not look at her like that, he looked at her like she was something that shouldn't have happened. Or well, he should, for that look was easier to deal with then this one.

"Please, no violence. I should like to avoid a repeat of our last encounter - it served no purpose, I fear. I have come to participate in my Lady the Specialist's gathering, and to hear her admirable goals.".

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you murdered my mother and before you tried to kill me in the process of stealing the Meddlers TARDIS while he was rescuing the Specialist, dear father" She spat, and instantly the glamour of the flowing green dress dropped, leaving a woman in a black leather battle gear, well armed with two guns strapped to her tighs and knives on the belt around her waist. Her green eyes were glowing with anger, golden mist wafting off her like an angry aura which seemed eerily familiar to the Time Lords around them. Regeneration energy.

"I'd appreciate Xandavier, if you kept those comments to yourself." The specialist answered, but it did little to lower her rage. One bad move from Xandavier and she'd be on him like a starved wolf on a fat pig. She only diverted her eyes away from the white haired man when she heard the Specialist again.

"That is what I need the Meddler and The Dreamweaver for. They are the brightest minds I know, and I am quite certain that together they could bring together a combination of their talents, that would create a reprogramming matrix that could be used on Daleks and Cybermen.".

"I am not working together with anything he's involved in" She bit angrily, her green eyes a dark storm green. The golden regeneration energy stopped, her hatred forced down by sheer control.

She was too focused to even notice the other three people enter, the Psychologist, the Mentalist and the Tactician. She wasn't taking her eyes off the white haired man for one second. In other situations she would have been surprised to see another red haired Time Lord, that and how oddly the two were connected by handcuffs.

But right now, her murderous intent was still on her father.

[The 11th Doctor]

Suddenly, a cold, murderous laughter, filled with the cold hatred of death.

"Look at you all. The last of the mighty civilization of Rassilon. So quick to assemble, in hopes of seeing own again, and quicker yet to draw arms."

The one took of his glasses, showing his golden eyes, an imperious air shining through them.

"I am one of the last of the Time Lords. I led you before that fool Rassilon returned. I was one of the Deca. I Lord President. And I am the time Lord's greatest enemy. I despise you all beyond words. So, how ironic is it, then, that I should be the voice of reason, now, when, The Specialist's oh-so-great reunion crumbles to bits."

He smiled sardonically.

"You make me sick. All of you. From the wounded and the dying..." He cast a quick glance at The Archivist.

"..To the two incarnations, bound together by this meeting..." He glanced at The two Masters and the Two Flynns.

"..To the returning heroes, the Time Lords victorious." He gazed at the Doctor and the Meddler.

"The quaint family..." He locked eyes with Xandavier and Sisi.

"And last, but not least, the peacemaker." He glanced at The Specialist.

"All of you. You aren't even trying. We've been here, what, less than half hour? Shut up. Listen to what she has to sayfirst."

He smiled.

"Then...you can kill each other all you want."

____________________________________

The Doctor silently gazed at The One. He was right. How sad it was, that now, in their greatest hour, the Time Lords were falling apart again. Taking a seat on a small, single wooden chair, The doctor sat down.

He shoveled around in his pocket and pulled out a Jammie Dodger. It was broken in half, but he bit into it.

(OOC: Taking the last couple posts into account, Meds, would you like to invite the first Doctor (here thanks to A Man out of time and Deadly Games) to whip us 'children' into shape?)

[Flynn Delta]

The Tactician snickered and walked over to The One.

"Ha-hahahahahahahahaha! You. I like you, you seem like one who would enjoy watching lower filth suffer and die. I think we should be friends." He pulls out a Sonic disruptor and aims it at the handcuffs binding The Mentalist to The Psychologist. "I'm up for some chaos any other takers?"

____________________________________________________________________

Flynn whips a pistol out of his pocket and aims it at The Tactician.

"Don't you dare, you know what he's capable of, you may be me from a different universe, but you're still me, think about what might happen if you unleash The Mentalist."

_____________________________________________________________________


"Hmmm, I'm Thinking I'm Thinking, I like it! Let's do it!"

_______________________________________________________________________

"No!"

[Seren Ash]

The Specialist was about ready to move, but it was the Archivist that did it. "ENOUGH." She snapped as she pointed at the one that was causing all the chaos. The woman was in pain, and likely was dying, but she didn't want anyone else knowing that. "There is a non-violence field on this whole area. The Mentalist is in control of himself, and this situation with her help." The Archivist said as she tilted her head towards The Psychiatrist.

"You lower that sonic, right now. Or I'll disable it - permanently, do you understand?" She stated as she pulled out a slim device, rather like a cigarette case, but obviously not. "This is about us meeting in peace, not bickering like children. You will keep your mouth shut, and stop this incessant childish actions" The Archivist said as she stood. Her hand covering her side now, hiding the spreading stain on her coat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Thank you, Archivist, it is good to see our book keeper, has a bit of spunk to her. We will need that. Understand that if any of you, try to rise above and rule the universe, my guard will hunt you down and eradicate you. I would like to rule with love and compassion, something the council didn't understand. But if I have to be a hard woman at times, I will do so." The Specialist said in a hard voice. This was what the woman had to become.

"If you can't stand someone in this room, step away from them. Or by all that is Holy - I will have no qualms in using my talents on you, to immobilize you. This is a neutral zone, a zone of peace and understanding. If you can't accept that, then get out - NOW." She stated firmly and then turned towards Dreamweaver.

"The project you and Meddler would be working on, would make you freelancers, hired by the new homeworld, to produce a protection matrix as well as the reprogramming matrix for cyber based enemies of the home world. I will not ask you to ever work with someone that you despise. If Xandavier expects to have any place, in the new homeworld, he will abide by the laws put into place." She stated firmly.

"We can all play nice, now, or we risk The Guardians making themselves known to us - here and now - to scold us like the naughty children they think most of you are."

[The Phantom]

The Phantom walked out of her Tardis in her black coat and blue jeans. Her red hair a bit frizzled due to her just coming from her last adventure. She was not excited about this get together.

"I apologize for being late, I had to help out a friend." She explained honestly, looking about to see if she actually recognized anyone here. So far it seemed like only six people that she actually knew, and two of them she wasn't fond of.

Maria headed closer towards the Meddler and the Dreamweaver, giving them both a friendly smile. "It's nice to see you two again."

[The Master]

"That is what I need the Meddler and The Dreamweaver for. They are the brightest minds I know, and I am quite certain that together they could bring together a combination of their talents, that would create a reprogramming matrix that could be used on Daleks and Cybermen."

The 'human' Master lifted an eyebrow at that. "Really?" he asked. "You want someone to bend minds, and you turn to the Meddler? And to his companion?"

He spread his arms. "I am right here, and my... alter ego is right there. And if there is one skill the Master is justly known for, it is control over the minds of others."

He watched the new woman limp in, unconcerned. She looked faintly familiar. But it was hard, so damnably hard, to think clearly trapped in this colloid mass that passed for a brain among humans.

[The Master]

The Master bowed a little, slightly mockingly, acknowledging the words of the human that claimed to be him. The human that, in truth, had his mental presence.

He'd have to look into that later. It could be inconvenient, if one of his backups had escaped prematurely.

"My... brother has a point," he said. "Although, I'm not certain how interested I am in working towards the goals of someone else." A shrugh. "I am, however, between plans and willing to be convinced."

At that moment, a woman limped in and took a seat. "I apologize for my lateness. I was dealing with a cybermen invasion on a colony." She managed a weak wave at the Doctor, then slumped in the chair.

The Master gave her a curious look for a second, then crossed the room to examine her. "Archivist?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice. "Are you well... No. No you're not."

"Doctor!" he snapped. "She needs medical attention, now!"

With a single motion, he pulled her to her feet, threw one of her arms over his shoulder, and slid his other arm around her for support. "What are you waiting for, Doctor?" he demanded. "And where did you land? My TARDIS is outside, in the parking lot."

And then he was struggling with her as she tried to speak to the Psychologist and the Mentalist, and then berated the Flynns. "Will you stop that, woman?" he hissed. "I've no interest in watching you regenerate right here in this room."

[The Meddler]

Everything was happening at once, it seemed.

First, like the proverbial 'bad penny', Xandavier had arrived, seemingly an elemental force of menace and sarcasm. The Dreamweaver reacted as he might have predicted.

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you murdered my mother and before you tried to kill me in the process of stealing the Meddlers TARDIS while he was rescuing the Specialist, dear father," she spat, her glamour falling away to reveal weapons and armored clothing.

He pulled her back gently, one arm wrapping around her shoulders. "Shhh," he whispered, "There's no point, not right now. The room's in a state of temporal grace right now - nobody can hurt anybody here." He could feel her trembling against him, could dimly feel her fear-laced rage through the psionic circuits in his hands and through the golden mist-like radiance emanating from her. "We'll settle with him," he promised. "But not here."

And then the Specialist had suggested that he and the Dreamweaver would be the perfect candidates to build a... a... a brainwashing machine to deal with the enemies of the new Gallifrey. He stared in shock, almost unable to believe what he was hearing.

"I could fix your mind too, if you'd let me," she said in his memories. "But you wouldn't, would you Meddler? Are you afraid you'd become like me?"

"No, that's not it at all," the Meddler she held had said.

"I suspect I'd have been somewhat different from you, even without the madness," said the Meddler to her right, his arm around her shoulder and his own, had whispered into her ear.

"And besides," the Meddler that stood on her left had said, stroking her hair, "I've spent nine hundred years like this. Who would I be, if you fixed my mind?"

"Would I be the Meddler?"

"It would destroy them," he whispered, horrified at the prospect. "We may as well kill them, as do that."

"I am not working together with anything he's involved in!" the Dreamweaver snarled, making an angry gesture at her father.

"I'm not asking you to," he told her.

---

"Understand that if any of you, try to rise above and rule the universe, my guard will hunt you down and eradicate you. I would like to rule with love and compassion, something the council didn't understand. But if I have to be a hard woman at times, I will do so." The Specialist said in a hard voice.

The words were like ice running down his spine, and he could feel the Dreamweaver's outrage. "Don't," he whispered to her, "Not now. It won't help, not right now."

But the future was yawning before him. And he wasn't sure he had a place in it.

"We can all play nice, now, or we risk The Guardians making themselves known to us - here and now - to scold us like the naughty children they think most of you are."

He considered that. "No, you're right. That would be problematic. At the moment."

He fell silent for a moment. "But I wonder," he said, mostly to himself. "What power do the Guardians of Time have over a man that no longer exists in time..?"

[Xandavier]

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you murdered my mother and before you tried to kill me in the process of stealing the Meddlers TARDIS while he was rescuing the Specialist, dear father," his daughter spat, her clothing melting away to reveal her familiar battle dress, just before the Meddler attempted to calm her.

He pursed his lips, impressed. Somehow, she had become nearly a full Sidhe. And, he could see the temporal awareness of a Time Lord in her as well. Curious.

"I fear your distaste for me has colored your memories, my darling daughter. Your mother was murdered by a troop of primates barely three million years removed from the trees." He smiled. "I did not attempt to kill you, either. I merely attempted to discipline a recalcitrant and rebellious child."

A pause. "And as to the Meddler's TARDIS?" He looked around, examining the gathered Time Lords. "I am the only surviving member of the High Council of the Time Lords - I was never stripped of my office by an action of the Council. As such, I am empowered to order the recovery of stolen property. And the Meddler stole his TARDIS from Gallifrey, over six hundred years ago."

---

There was the sound of applause. Xandavier turned to look, and found himself listening to a Time Lord that spoke of conquest. As the man finished, and another version of the man began to speak, Xandavier reached out with his mind. Tactician, he projected, I would speak with you, once we have finished here.

---

"If Xandavier expects to have any place, in the new homeworld, he will abide by the laws put into place," the Specialist stated firmly.

He smiled again. "I have yet to decide what position I shall accept in your new Gallifrey, my Lady the Specialist."

He looked around the room. "Consider this, though. I have asked you what plans you have to protect your new Gallifrey. Your answer has been to tell us of seven members of the Chancellary Guard, who will serve in that capacity and who will simultaneously train new Guards. And then you speak of developing a device that will rewrite the unhuman logic of the Cybermen and the genetic hatred of the Daleks. A 'weapon of peace' that will defend your people. If it is ever finished."

He let the words hang in the air for a moment.

"In other words, your entire plan to defend your new Homeworld is a weapon that does not exist and seven members of a force that - as I understand it - failed to defend the original Homeworld when they numbered in the thousands."

Again, he let the words hang in the air for a moment.

"Allow me to offer an alternative to your plan, my Lady the Specialist." He smiled, and bowed low. "I am in favor, in broad strokes, of your plan. We are the Lords of Time. We should reclaim our rightful place as Guardians of the Protocols of Time, and we should carefully shepherd the... younger species until they are mature enough to take part in civilization."

He paused. "But you lack the resources - saving only people - to achieve this laudable goal. I, on the other hand, possess the resources you need. I lack only the people."

He gestured with a hand. "Three thousand years hence, there is an empire that rules this Earth over the span of half a millennium. It is known as Tsan Chan. It is a temporally-active civilization, arising from the ruins of the nations devastated by the solar flares of the thirty-fifth century."

He smiled lightly. "It is my empire. And it possesses the things you lack to create a new Homeworld and defend it from the enemies of Gallifrey."

[Flynn Delta]

(Flynn from our universe will be called Flynn while the other is The Tactician to avoid confusion.)

"Archivist!"

Flynn leaped into action, returning his pistol to his pocket. Grabbing his Sonic Scalpel from the same pocket, he quickly cuts a small hole in her clothing so he can get a clear view of her wound, he activates the blood clotting setting and aims it at her wound, to stop the bleeding temporarily.

"That will stop the bleeding for a few hours. now get her to That TARDIS, she may not lose anymore but it looks like she's lost a lot already, now move!" He barks at Kos. "Go! Both of you!" He stares at The Doctor. "Dreamweaver, you've got healing abilities right? They might need your help."

[Flynn Delta]

'Tactician," he projected, "I would speak with you, once we have finished here."

"Ah, I predict my offer has interested you, my Good fellow, I would enjoy speaking with you, and it seems that my holier than thou counterpart might have rid us of your daughter it seems, let's hope she agrees to help the poor librarian to a hospital bed or some such nonsense." The Tactician projects back.

[The 11th Doctor]

Eleven raced along next to the Master. She wouldn't regenerate. Not yet. And how many incarnations did she have left, anyway?

A deep dread filled him, and he flung open the doors of his TARDIS.

"Put her in here! I recently restocked my medical facilities last time I was on Harbrros 5!"

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

"Understand that if any of you, try to rise above and rule the universe, my guard will hunt you down and eradicate you. I would like to rule with love and compassion, something the council didn't understand. But if I have to be a hard woman at times, I will do so." The Specialist said in a hard voice.

The words were like ice running down his spine, and he could feel the Dreamweaver's outrage. "Don't," he whispered to her, "Not now. It won't help, not right now."

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes to forcus herself on not losing her patience with the white haired woman. She may be young, barely an infant by the age standard of the others around her, but she could feel in her bones something was severely wrong with this situation. The meddler had taken the words from her mouth, it was indeed insane to think one would rule over Time and Space and decide when a civilisation was ready for something. Time was not something that was linear and with the way The Specialist was talking people like Da Vinci would have been smothered before they had even gotten started. If something did arrive earlier then it was meant to be, it was not up to one race to decide what the pace of development was. There was a good reason why the Sidhe had gone underground and not ruled human kind only because they could. With great power comes just as great responsibility, something that she knew almost no one in this room had. There was a reason why Gallifrey had gone like it did.

Xandaviers words made the hair stand up in her neck, the man had been building a civilisation? She turned to the Specialist, hoping she would see the trap in his words. But she could not read her face, at all. She gave Robin a desperate look, giving his hand a squeeze. She was worried first, now she was getting frightened of this new world.

The Specialist words from before still rang clear in her mind.

"If you can't stand someone in this room, step away from them. Or by all that is Holy - I will have no qualms in using my talents on you, to immobilize you. This is a neutral zone, a zone of peace and understanding. If you can't accept that, then get out - NOW." She stated firmly and then turned towards Dreamweaver.

And it was a good thing she did, while the Specialist started explaining what she and the Meddler were supposed to do, Sisi took her hand from the Meddler's grasp and slowly raised her hands in surrender.

"I'm sorry, Specialist. But I'm afraid there is no place for me in this new home world you speak of. My personal beliefs say that no creature should ever have such a power over others, may they be for good purposes-" Her eyes slid to that of her fathers form "or bad." And back to the Specialist "That includes the Guardians. I know I cannot stop you, but I cannot take aid in such a thing. I may be young in comparison to all of you, but I know when something feels wrong.. and it does now. I'm sorry."

Her eyes slid to that of the new wounded woman, for a moment wondering if she should heal her. But no, they were Time Lords, they would be fine without her. She knew what a TARDIS infirmary was capable of. It would be dangerous showing what her talents were with all those people around, with almost half of them being hostile.

She started making her way for the door. She needed to get out of here and while everyone was too busy on the wounded woman it would be a great way to slip out unnoticed by most.

She gave the Meddler a last apologetic look.