genessia | [Video/Action]

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[Video]

[Hey look at that, an unfamiliar curly-haired man in a very... er, colorful coat is beaming at you from your communicators.]

Hello! I just wanted to try and reach out to whoever pulled me here, and ask you very kindly to just pop me back where I came from, please. I was in the middle of something rather... delicate, you see, and I really need to get back to help my friends.

[Pause, the smile drops.]

And before anyone who did not pull me here says anything... I am well aware that this probably isn't going to work. I just thought I'd try it. For fun.

[The last word is actually kind of snarled, and the video ends immediately.]

[Action]

[The Doctor is standing by the hologram as the woman gives her speech, and he's paying attention to it, he really is... but he's also bent forward slightly, inspecting the stand she's being projected from with great interest. He's not touching it at all; in fact, his hands are tucked into the pockets of his black-and-yellow striped pants. But he's certainly looking at it very carefully--for booby traps, perhaps?

When the hologram reaches the part about the anti-tampering precautions, he straightens up with a disgruntled look on his face.]

Hmph!

[He pulls his hands from his pockets and crosses his arms over his chest as he remarks to no one in particular,] Some people are just so mistrustful, honestly.

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[not another one. Why is he all coming now? After so long without? Has something broken? Has he broken something? And why this face of all faces. He feels in a slight panic over something he can't name. But then reminds himself that whatever will be done will be done by the other three of him desperate for something to give a damn about.

So he will quietly wonder in his own little corner what in the Belguim is going on. He does compose himself a little as he appears on camera]

You're here... I can't say I'm surprised.

Edited 2018-12-06 08:08 (UTC)

[Squint. Who the blue blazes are you, sir.]

Am I supposed to know who you are? Because I can assure you I most certainly do not.

[He'll apologize for this later. Maybe.]

[Unfamiliar nothing.]

Oh good, one of the sunny ones.

[He has the most exasperated look ~~but not, sadly, a fez~~ as he gives that probably rather cryptic reply.]

Int'resting, though, can't say I was expecting you, well, I was, just earlier from my point of view, and not yet, from your point of view, probably ought to have a chat, you and I, or at least two or more of us, yourself included, soon as you've got your bearings.

I don't expect you to. [jumped up little--]

But it's that way, if you're curious. [he points]

[Glower. He can recognize bait when it's being dangled in front of him, dammit.

...but being able to identify it doesn't mean he can resist it.]

What's 'that way'? [Yes, you just got mimicked, Twelve.] Furthermore, pointing is hardly adequate direction, is it? I can hardly be expected to follow that with any kind of reasonable accuracy, now can I.

Frankly I don't expect you to be able to find your arse with both hands.

[he steeples his fingers importantly]

But I was referring to the circus you've run away from. I'm sure they're very sorry they've been cross and are wanting you to return.

[He is never apologizing to you ever. EVER.

He actually splutters a bit at that, because what the actual fuck.]

Wha--h--who tHE BLOODY HELL do you THINK you ARE?

[He's honestly really angry right now, do you know how hard he's worked to not be angry? Well of course you do, but anyway he's also angry about the fact that you made him angry, and it's just not going well at all oh dear.]

[he clicks his tongue] Language.

And if you're going about in a coat like that, don't you think you deserve it a little?

The question is, who the hell do you think you are?

[He was going to question what Eleven meant by that, but the rest of the babble rather clears things up, doesn't it? Well, it doesn't really, but he gets it. And he kind of hates it.]

Oh, for goodness' sake...

[Deep sigh.]

Dare I ask how many of 'me' are trapped in this Genessia place with, well, me?

Edited 2018-12-06 08:44 (UTC)

[Oh, he doesn't like you. He really, really doesn't like you. He might even hate you a little. In fact he's rather starting to wonder if... but it's the principle of the thing, you see.]

I asked you first.

[Those words are delivered in something of a growl, before he manages to get ahold of himself. A deep breath, and then he adds,] My sartorial taste is utterly beside the point of this conversation.

Your sartorial taste is exactly the point of this conversation. [he taps the side of his nose]

Otherwise I wouldn't be speaking to you.

Do you wear it because you think it makes you look charming or because you hope to be charming?

[Fine, time to take a risk.]

Do you know, I rather suspect you know precisely why I wear it. Thus rendering this conversation even more pointless than it already was.

I haven't the faintest idea. Hence the question.

[he refuses to give up.]

[That pretty much confirms it for Six, but sure we'll play it Twelve's way why not.]

Well then I suppose you'll have to keep wondering. Feel free to make up a story about it if it makes you feel better.

.... Fine. But you lost it first so point for me. [he sips a slurpee and leans back so the other can see a bit of the interior of his TARDiS]

You should have seen the look on your face. ... Well you did. I forgot how red I used to get. Not pretty.

[slurrrp]

Want to go for a ride, Sixy? She purrs like a beauty.

[Hah. He has the good grace not to look smug (mostly because Twelve pointed out that he did indeed lose his temper) but he is quietly pleased that he managed to figure that out over a video feed. Then again, who else would get under his skin so quickly other than himself?

He eyes what little he can see of the TARDIS interior, sidetracked yet again.]

Wait, you've got the TARDIS--hang on, what have you done to her, have you redecorated?

[He doesn't like it.]

Yes. I know. You don't like it. There's technically three of them but don't ask me to explain it to you because the other uses will explain it until your ears bleed. I won't explain that either by the way.

I'm taking your well hidden vibrant joy and wonder at the new design as a sign you want to come aboard.

[and even if you don't]

Let's motor.

[he snaps his fingers and a song begins to play. He gets out of his chair and throws a switch, flicks levers and then ...lifts his head as a faint ding goes off]

That wasn't supposed to happen.

[and then a beat later]

My muffins!

[and he dashes from the console room. The song will continue to play in the emptiness.

...

Awkward]

[A mumble that sounds suspiciously like 'bloody hell'--language his left foot--and then Six is yelling at his device in the faint hope that his older self will be able to hear him from whatever kitchen he's got to, despite the music playing.]

For the love of... I'll come to you! What's your coordinates?

[Rassilon knows why he's actually going along with this, but hey. It's him. What's the worst that will happen? Anyway he could use whatever information his other self is willing to part with, and he can use the excuse to properly hate the new console room. And maybe have a look round into the bargain.]

Edited 2018-12-06 10:12 (UTC)

She was deep in one of the TARDISes when the small 'ding' sounded from her device nearby, letting her know there had been another post left on the network. She was in one of the many workshops, sparks flying as she tinkered, worked on a thought, crafted a thing that may help them figure out the mystery of this place. She paused for a moment, lifting the welding hood, covered in circular Gallifreyan text, from her eyes and briefly scanned the phone on the side of the table.

Normally, it was just routine sorts of things - aside from all of the people seeking help dealing with the loss of their loved ones, lately - and she rarely paid them much mind other then to scan them for vital information and then go back to what she was doing. Not this time!

First, she gave a barking laugh in surprise, then frowned. "What?!? No!" She almost couldn't believe what she was seeing, but at the same time, there was another part of her that just internally rolled her eyes. It was as if this universe wanted to destabilize itself and rip itself apart from the massive waves of paradoxical forces! It would only serve them right!

She quickly noted that the data-signatures of the previous two Doctors had already chimed in, and if it were someone not from home, she might have let them handle it. But the more of their minds that were put together, the faster they could figure out how to crack this little nut of a world.

When she sent her own response, she still had the welding hood on top of her head and her forging apron draped over her t-shirts. She tried her best to put a friendly smile on her face, as if this were the most mundane thing in the world.

"No, Doctor, you're right on the second count; they likely won't be sending you back. Seem to be rather fond of us. In particular. Are you still at the bay? I can meet you there. I'm sure you'll be wanting an explanation."

"Er..."

Of all the things he could possibly have expected to happen, this was exactly none of them. To his credit though he recovers quickly, blinking at the high, feminine voice to go with those delicate features for only a moment before he rallies his wits together. After all, why not? He's been short and tall, he's had hair curly, straight, white, grey, blonde, brown, and black, and he's had all sorts of different quirks over the years. Why shouldn't he be a woman at some point?

"Ah, yes, I am, rather." He hesitates on inviting her to the room he's been granted for more privacy, but... no. He might suggest that once she gets here, though. "Shall I wait for you here, Doctor?"

Okay nevermind being over it, this is going to take some getting used to. Wow.

She gave him a knowing smile, her head tilting and her nose scrunching up in...was that amusement? Irritation? Just general weirdness?

"Yeaaah, hi. It's gonna be one of those days for you."

She nodded shortly, pulling off the hood and the apron and draping them over the workbwnch before pulling her coat on and grabbing the phone to walk about the TARDIS. This time, it was the 11th Doctor's, and he may see glimpses of the thing over her shoulders as she makes her way through it.

"On my way, now. Shouldn't take too long, and I can tell you the cliff notes version while I'm walkin'. I'd pick you up in the TARDIS, but this one isn't technically mine, anymore, and you know how we are about other people movin' 'er." Bright and chipper and showing none of the latent awkwardness and worry that his coming here had caused, the source of the babbling. No, stay optimistic. He'd have time to lose his mind out of boredom and frustration soon enough.

"So apparently this place is a pocket universe, created by who only knows what, an' it's been pullin' people from different times an' places, different natural universes, for some time, now. Broken up into four, or is it five? Dunno, haven't been keepin' track of that. Separate sub-dimensions. They're themed. Like an adventure park, only with cities. Sorta-21st-century Earth city, medieval city, future city. And magic. Still tryin' to figure that one out. They bring people in, leave us to our own devices, and no one is quite sure what their motives are.

Oh. Also. You're the fifth Doctor here." She smirks. "And the youngest."

Did she look smug at that? That may very well be a smug look, yes. He's so young!

But then the smirk fades as the thought crosses her mind that he also won't know about the war. About Gallifrey, about what they had done and almost done, or about...well...certain relationships here were going to be messy to explain. They were messy to her, and she'd lived a good half of them!

Sorry, Six. Her being not-Him is going to be the least awkward thing you deal with today, she suspects.

If you get a ping back then let everyone know. No one's ever gotten an actual answer before. Nice try, though.

For what it's worth, everyone here thinks time just up and stops when you leave your home world. They talk as if time has a TV remote.

Can those eyebrows get any higher? Probably. They're certainly trying.

"A pocket universe? But that's..." Does he even have to finish that sentence? He won't regardless, mostly because she's moved on to mocking his age. "900 years is hardly young, you know." He's not even sure why he's arguing about this, he just is. "It's a very fine age, and not terribly old, either. Just right."

Technically he's about 923 or so, but who's counting.

"I know!" She's not really mocking him with that playfully astonished voice. She actually had been completely flabbergasted by the whole thing in the beginning. Now, well, from one confounding thing to the next.

When he protested at her teasing, the smirk returned, and she couldn't help but imagine a tiny green puppet in a brown robe. 'When 900 years old you reach, etc etc etc.' She chortled lightly.

"Yes, dear, I know. I was there." She pointed a finger at her own head. "3000, give or take a few. And...er...we may have restarted counting once or twice here and there, after you. Lost track. Lied enough times we get ourselves confused." Gotten stuck in a time-looped prison for a few billion. You know. The little things. She shook the thought away. "There's not many people here you'll recognize, though more then a few who know us. There's been rumors of a certain three-eyed, wheelchair-bound acquaintance of ours lurking around here-" she sneered. "-Though I have yet to see any sign of him. I trust the ones who gave me the information, though. If they say he was here, then he was here. Let's see, what else..."

She furrowed her brow before her face lit up again, and she reached into her shirts to pull out a pendant with what looked to be a dark fire-opal stone with flecks of other colors shimmering from inside.

"You should have been given one of these. You'll need it, hold onto it. Something about them allows us to travel between the pocket worlds when we're carrying them on our person, though I've yet to determine what, exactly. They've proven themselves to be safe, for now."

Her face fell just a little, again as she thought, trying to come up with anything else that wasn't dire and depressing to explain before she reached him. Luckily, she wasn't far, by now.

"I've been here about a month. The other three have been here for...much longer. Months? Over a year or more? We don't always talk much, of course, so it can be hard getting a straight answer. The TARDISes - there are three - are cut off from the time vortex, so we're living linear, for now. It's exasperating."

[SUDDEN BURST OF GIGGLES OVER THE COMM, BUT SHE STIFLES IT WITH A CHOKE AND FIST.]

Professor.

[Don't be mean to your baby self!]

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