first_timelord: (Default)
He'd been sleeping a lot, lately, though he had, in actuality, been needing the morphine less. Staying at home doesn't lend itself to much else, after all, no matter who you live with.

His dreams are sometimes nonsensical, sometimes terrifying, but never dull.

Date: 2007-02-03 01:07 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
They're also quite a beacon, if you happen to be looking for the Time Lord. Carter is silent as he walks through the crystalline city, dark eyes peering out through the eyeholes of his painted mask. He is in his most impressive garb this eve, looking like he just came from ( the ( Venetian ( carnival ( in his ornate robes and delicately crafted mask. Behind him, around him, the dreamscape twists just barely, the air warming and the white towers shrinking, thickening and threading through with bright metal. And sometimes, there are too many suns in the sky...

He does not hide his power, for once, and Gallifrey shifts around him as he walks, warping into some strange, beautiful mix of the lost planet of the Time Lords and of his own vanished almost-home, Yaddith-of-the-Great-Mother. I am here, Time Lord. You wished to speak with me, and here I am. Come.

Date: 2007-02-03 01:21 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Rassilon steps out of the shadow of a building--not-there and then there, like a thought. His surroundings have become alien to him and he would have thought it a mere nightmare were it not for the obvious presence of the dreamwalker.

However much of a home field this may be, he is still vulnerable. The entire dreamscape has a air of thready mutability to it--and moreso a mutability that isn't typical. The dreamscape of a weary mind in an ill body.

But he is here, now, in layers of robes ancient in design, eyes glowing only a little.

"I do, yes. I ... don't do this often, but I was informed of what I had done and I wish to offer an apology." He'd said it, now, and he knows he's at a disadvantage--for all his ability to change reality, its power lies in the waking mind, not the dreaming.

Date: 2007-02-03 02:04 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
"Because Lan asked you to." It's not a question. He knows Lan, after all. Longer than any of these others have. "Are you aware of why she has asked this?"

Date: 2007-02-03 02:12 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
He's not used to being seen through like this. "Ah. Well, not so much asked as ordered, but, in essence, yes. I was barely aware of what the point of contention actually was, I'm afraid. Unfortunately the... painkiller had the unforseen side-effect of memory loss." He appears to be inching backward.

Date: 2007-02-03 02:47 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
"I see." A gesture of his strange, bulky mittens, and the landscape around them shifts from this shining amalgam-city to the Sanctuary, phantom figures bustling about. Rassilon sitting in his chair, stewing then wilting, leaving the room with something in his hand... then returning, unsteady as he returns to his seat. Carter's disgust and anger tinges the memory. "In this place, surrounded by humans and barely-more-than-humans, you drugged yourself." Rassilon chortling at Carter. Carter trying to comfort Lan, being rebuffed. Rassilon sniggering, making some remark on the irony of him wishing her good dreams. "And, still surrounded by these, you taunted the one that less than an hour before, you had been convinced would harm dear friends, the only one in the room with power that might hope to match yours."

It falls away, leaving them in the city again. The city and the masked Nug-Soth, towering over Rassilon. "I hope I do not need to elaborate on why this disturbed me so."

Date: 2007-02-03 02:58 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
He backs up even further. There's a small part of his reptile brain that's quaking in instinctive, nauseous fear at anything Eldritch. There's a sensation of energy pulling in, like someone drawing their arms around their head to ward off a blow. Congratulations--you're the only being, so far, who has managed to make him afraid.

"Ah... no. You don't. I ... don't suppose there'd be any point in explaining...?"

He coudln't wake, even though that instinctive part of him has his pulses racing. And the sleepstate is so deep that his actual body lies undisturbed.

Date: 2007-02-03 03:47 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Carter snorts, quite softly. Unimpressed. This is the great Lord Rassilon? How... depressing.

"There would be, in fact." Sigh. The grand robes melt away, the decorations on the mask. The mask itself, in fact, and everything alien about him... leaving just a dark-haired man in his mid-thirties, dressed in a 20's-era suit. Looking very tired and pensive. "You could have hurt them, Lord, with your judgment so impaired. And if I had stayed, let my temper be lost, I could have."

Date: 2007-02-03 04:05 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
He wads the fear up into a corner of his reptile brain and breathes again.

He's not often terribly impressive when seen for himself, no. Small and old and tired, despite the youth of his appearance. There's huge ancient power, there, but it's like a bright light looked at from underwater, right now.

"I could have, yes. And I will not return until I've healed."

He sits on a conveniently nearby stone bench and lets out a somewhat shaky breath. "Our evolution is ... different to that of humans. Even they have an instinctive fear of the ... Great Old Ones and their power, their influence, their energies. Ours is all the more potent for knowing what it is. There is little in our recorded history of the war between the Great Old Ones and my people, but there is enough. It is all I have to offer by way of explaination, and if it is not sufficient, I do apologise."

His voice is quiet and he doesn't look at Carter while he says this, not looking at much of anything, really.

The air is cold.

Date: 2007-02-03 04:28 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
"I am no old power, Lord, nor a malevolent one. Forty-two years human, and ten-thousand trapped as what I am now. All I wish of the world is to build my city, and to not be bothered by the presences you imagine me to be allied with. Power is power. It is the intent and the use that makes it evil." He shifts again, a middle ground -- Nug-Soth, unmasked, in plain workrobes. "Your apology is accepted."

Date: 2007-02-03 04:55 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
"Thank you," he answers softly. Finally, he looks up at Carter. "What is the place my home has been slowly turning into in this dream?"

Date: 2007-02-03 05:44 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
"City Twelve, near the Nz'tralt valley, Yaddith." He reaches farther, shaping it the rest of the way -- metal buildings shining in the light of the five suns. "Billions of us. Them. We worshipped the Goddess, yes, but how could we not? She was beneath our feet, and she gave us everything." The earth shudders, and so does he. "Her other servants were not so kind, unfortunately, as she."

Date: 2007-02-03 05:54 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
"It's gone, now, isn't it?" he asks sadly, looking about at his surroundings, squinting in the light--so much stronger than Gallifrey's watery sun.

Date: 2007-02-03 06:29 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
He makes a sad, affirmative sound as the ground beneath them shakes again, more forcefully. "Dholes."

That one word should be all Rassilon needs.

Date: 2007-02-03 07:12 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile]
It is, indeed. He shakes his head, bracing himself against the surface of the bench with the next tremor.

"They'd taken other worlds, as well," he says presently. "I knew of the mission to stop them, yet at that time my people had chosen their path of noninterference, and I ... could do nothing."

Date: 2007-02-03 07:33 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Carter shrugs -- a strange sight with two sets of shoulders, even though his lower arms are hidden under the robes. "We would not have been afforded it anyway, I think. With our alliances, and what else lived below our feet." He does not dare to summon that, though, even in dreams. "I am building a city for them, in the Dreamlands. The survivors, the refugees... those that I can find, at least. And that are willing."

Date: 2007-02-05 09:36 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
He tilts his head to the side for a moment.

"I've a similar mission," he says quietly.

Date: 2007-02-07 03:52 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
Carter peers at his for a long moment, that alien face -- difficult to read, but not impossible. Especially not for one such as Rassilon. Thoughtful, the Nug-Soth is, and pleasantly surprised. "Truly?"

Date: 2007-02-08 08:45 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
"When my homeworld was destroyed, most of my race were, as well. I am in the process of building another home for my people, those who are left. A space station."

Date: 2007-02-09 07:10 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
"I'd heard of the station, but I didn't realise..."

He shakes his head, the wrinkle of his snout and the soft clicking of his mouthparts suggestive of a quiet chuckle. "So perceptive we are, hm? So many years, and still..."

Date: 2007-02-09 07:55 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
The smile that crosses Rassilon's face is a little more recognisable. "Seems some things no-one grows out of."

Date: 2007-02-10 06:22 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
"One of the things that makes us --" He pauses, making an amused sound. 'Human' would be... sort of inaccurate, huh? "Makes us... hm. Z'ris-tal, I think?" An old word, in a language Rassilon more likely knows than not. (And if he did not before, he knows this one word now, with a little twist of the dreaming.) Still alive, vulnerable. "I am sorry for frightening you, Lord, tonight and before. And I wish you and your people all the best luck with rebuilding."

Date: 2007-02-10 07:08 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
He does know it, and it brings a smile to his face. "Just so," he murmurs.

At Carter's apology, the smile turns a bit rueful, a touch self-deprecating. "Accepted, and gladly. There is ... still a lot I need to learn--about the Multiverse, about a lot of things, really. And thank you. I wish you the same."

Date: 2007-02-10 08:17 am (UTC)From: [identity profile]
"'There are more things in Heaven and on Earth, Horatio...'" He rises, an uncannily smooth movement for such a large being, and bows to the Gallifreyan. "I thank you, Lord. And bid you to dream well, the rest of this night and many others."

With that, he fades away -- and as he dissolves, the changes to the dreaming-city reverse themselves, and Rassilon is left with Gallifrey, pure and unsullied. No trace of Carter left but a small bottle and a small glass, both of them thick and dark. And a word on the wind. Mth.


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