first_timelord: (watching time)
The millenia had passed almost like dreams, images barely remembered and recalled with crystalline clarity and mixed together and painfully delineated. Mirrors and screens. But something stirred, now, in a silence that had stretched for centuries of watching and waiting.

The body that lay within the Tomb deep inside the Tower, a mere point of identification, no more holding the mind now than it did when the long sleep first started, was immaterial, now. A cipher. Something to display the relics upon.

For deeper still in the Tower (or was it the memory of the Tower, its planet long gone, still there, not even formed yet....), nestled in primordial soup and strands of electronic thought, the mind pulled sleepily at the strings and shifted. Amid arcs and stirrings, electrolysing and chemical reactions as old as life itself, form coalesced. Nerve and sinew upon bone. Flesh upon that and hair upon that, knitted into being following a clear and singular genetic pattern cell by cell. Light. Like a birthing, a Looming, and not, as the same time--the mind already existing, the body created with technology already hundreds of years old and older, yet unerring and perfect in its execution of its task.

The fluid primordial, then amniotic, now a simple suspension solution, slowly completed connexions of chemicals which spread to link everything in the body to everything else. Lines of thought, hair-thin wires, cords, cables; thought is nothing more than electrical patterns, data that can be moved.

Then, a simple jolt of current. It begins the rattle and rush of organic function. Eyes slip open in instinctive acknowledgement of consciounsness and there

the mirrors and screens, images, sounds, sensations, thoughts, a thousand separate entities slide together, pull themselves into focus.

Vague. Crystalline. Mixed. Separated. The experiences click together. Become a mind. Memories shunted in, reorganised. Identity.

The wires and cables retract, the fluid drains away.

The body is recognised, now. It is mine.


first_timelord: (Default)

September 2012

161718 19 202122

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Oct. 17th, 2017 09:28 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios