first_timelord: (haunted)
2007-01-17 12:16 am

(no subject)

Things are back to normal, it seems, for better or for worse. My future son--er, daughter--did a splendid job of maintaining reality while I was unconscious. I shall have to keep the Coronet locked away, though, now. Its power is too great.

Still--I can't help but wish... that she'd missed ensuring that Gallifrey is gone. I wonder if the temptation to save it was even there. She'd never seen it, never stood on its land, never looked into its sky.

Ah, well. No sense in dwelling on what if. There are rules that need followed, no matter what. The choice was clear.

That doesn't make it any easier.
first_timelord: (grin)
2006-11-25 06:22 am

Not Sure What To Think Of It...

You are The Sun

Happiness, Content, Joy.

The meanings for the Sun are fairly simple and consistent.

Young, healthy, new, fresh. The brain is working, things that were muddled come clear, everything falls into place, and everything seems to go your way.

The Sun is ruled by the Sun, of course. This is the light that comes after the long dark night, Apollo to the Moon's Diana. A positive card, it promises you your day in the sun. Glory, gain, triumph, pleasure, truth, success. As the moon symbolized inspiration from the unconscious, from dreams, this card symbolizes discoveries made fully consciousness and wide awake. You have an understanding and enjoyment of science and math, beautifully constructed music, carefully reasoned philosophy. It is a card of intellect, clarity of mind, and feelings of youthful energy.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

first_timelord: (grin)
2006-11-14 05:10 am

Another meme

Stolen from Lan....

(Click here to post your own answers for this meme.)

I miss somebody right now.  (A great many somebodies.) I don't watch much TV these days.  (Never cared for it.) I own lots of books.
× I wear glasses or contact lenses. × I love to play video games. I've tried marijuana.  (Or an equivalent thereof.)
× I've watched porn movies. × I have been the psycho-ex in a past relationship. I believe honesty is usually the best policy.
I curse sometimes. I have changed a lot mentally over the last year.  (Very much so.) × I carry my knife/razor everywhere with me.
it goes on... )
first_timelord: (Default)
2006-10-27 09:48 pm


Something pulled at his mind--tore forcefully at it, inexorable and inescapable. A sucking, draining force....

He could hear ... only vaguely. Alarms, weapons fire, the screams of the dying, heard and felt. He could feel reality twisting, pulling in on itself, the energy streams of time capsules labouring to escape the collapse....

Panic. Utter panic the likes of which the planet had not shown in millenia. Abject fear....

The pulling increased. Twisted. Reality buckled in on itself in a huge black welter of pain and oblivion....
first_timelord: (Default)
2006-10-13 02:27 am
first_timelord: (Default)
2006-10-05 06:25 pm

(no subject)

I'mn ot surere hoe logn i've been awake thist ime


heh time seemst o be gettting away from me now. I can t can't sens it quite like i uced to the watry all my life

getttinging whatycalit ... emo.

woke up again

woke up oncew ith oxytgen only remeher bits sokjet soje someone with no memories no min;d at all possinle clair saw readaouta drop anda founad me brouagh me backj

lots of as. have to type more clair clear ha
first_timelord: (watching time)
2006-10-03 02:51 am

d_m prompt 10

I found myself watching Clair the other night.

Watching people is what I've done for centuries, after all. Observing people and events ... from huge battles to the everday ins and outs of a random being. There's a kind of stillness to it, a kind of introspection. It starts one thinking.

And tonight, watching Clair with her child and her husband, that great galumphing dog on her feet and that three-legged cat on the back of their sofa, I started thinking ... about the past, about what I'd lost--what everyone had lost.

For centuries, there were no children on Gallifrey. Now it might sound like a misopaedist's paradise, but to me there was nothing bleaker. There was no renewal, only continuation. Those born of the Loom, already wearing adult bodies, were kept hidden during the period of their brainbuffing and education until they were ready to join society.

Laughter had almost completely vanished from the world. They give us laughter, you know, children. They give us joy and wonder and simple happiness at experiencing the world around them. And for centuries Gallifrey was a world without laughter, without joy and wonder and simple happiness.

And then it was snuffed out ... just as it was beginning to regain these things.

Sometimes I long to hold the tiny girl I see nestled so comfortably in her father's arms.

Just for a few moments.

Just to remind me what it was like.
first_timelord: (time)
2006-09-25 02:51 am

(no subject)

That night, Rassilon returned to Clair's lab, Kiam accompanying him.

He'd slept in worse places. And stranger. Granted, it'd been ages since he'd slept in a place with so many animals about, and with a baby, as well. But that wasn't an unpleasant thing.

When he finally went under, the room cool and Kiam warm and still beside him, he dreamt of home again. But the long streets and soaring arches and shining beds of roses were replaced, this time, by the inside of a home. The decor was light-coloured, airy, the walls seeming to be more window than anything else. Sprays of plants lingered near the windows, which sat open.

He sat in a chair on something of a verandah, looking out over a misted early-morning landscape that indicated the house stood atop a high hill.

Movement caused him to look, and the same young woman he'd likened Clair to appeared in the doorway. Her hair was down and she wore a voluminous robe over what appeared to be some kind of light nightwear. Seen in the early morning light, the differences were a little more obvious--her eyes were the same emerald green as her father's, her small features looked young and strong and optimistic, her form curved more than Clair's ever had.

She handed him a cup of sweet tea and sat on the verandah next to the chair with a cup of her own. "You were up all night again, weren't you, Father?" she asked quietly.

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"You never see the sun rise any other time," she chided him gently.

He laughed softly at that. "You know me too well." He sipped the tea, letting the taste of the herbs linger for a moment.

"Will you be well enough to go out to-day?" she asked after a long pause.

"I don't know," he answered softly. "But even if I can't, don't feel as though you have to stay like a fussy old nanya."

She bit her lip, then leaned her head against his leg. "I made a promise. No, more than that. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you and I wasn't here to stop it."

"Ilyana...." he sighed, running his fingers over her hair. "Look what I've done to you. Kept you here instead of at the Academy ... looking after a foolish old man instead of living your own life."

"Father, you know I can go back to the Academy when the next segment starts. I'm not worried about that. It's you I'm worried about. You remember what the physician said. You flatlined your neural pulse when--" she broke off, a troubled expression flickering across her features.

"Yes, I know," he answered softly, barely above a whisper. His fingers continued to run lightly over her hair. She watched his gaze fix on the past again. After a moment, she sucked in a breath and sighed as though to blow away all the throughts that troubled her. She stood and leaned over him, kissing his head, lips pressed against deep red hair for a moment.

"Breakfast still needs fixed, at any rate," she said with a soft smile, and walked back in through the door, disappearing from view, leaving him gazing into the past.
first_timelord: (the universe before me)
2006-07-04 10:16 am

(no subject)

There are occasions when time really does have no meaning. One can easily tuck oneself into a small temporal corner and take a few days to construct something while maybe only a night has passed for everyone else.

He made it a point to do it entirely manually, which was why it had taken so long. He hadn't even bothered with the usual Gallifreyan tendency of incorporating the technology into something decorative. He simply built it to work and, after a few tests and adjustments, it did.

He could, of course, have simply forgone the whole thing and either abandoned this Nexus entirely, or shown these beings who were so terrified of a simple mindscan what he was truly capable of. Both of those ideas would have been massively counterproductive, though. He could rule this entire Nexus but ... what would be the point? No, look what happened last time. Practically deified by his own people--the last thing he'd wanted.

Maybe it was time to adapt to other people's ideas instead of the other way round.

But first ... sleep. He'd spent three personal timeline days on this thing, after all.
first_timelord: (watching time)
2006-07-03 01:53 pm

(no subject)

I'm becoming accustomed to speaking of Gallifrey in the past tense.

I'm not sure what I think of that.
first_timelord: (eye)
2006-07-01 12:53 pm

(no subject)

Another dream....

Light coruscated, flickering, flashing and spitting, only barely contained by an energy matrix. The raw stuff of life, harnessed and resentful. It threw highlights across the features of a small man who watched it on a monitor in a dark, dim room. Shadows flickered and danced behind him and the light threw highlights of ever-changing colour across his drawn features.

He seemed to blend into the dark of this room, clad in sombre colours that seemed terribly unlike him, still and silent, watching the screen.

"Our last ... only chance," he whispered, one hand coming up to trace a trail of light that added to the web of afterimages that glowed on his retinas.
first_timelord: (oh oh see)
2006-05-27 09:33 pm


Might not be roleplaying so much for a while.
first_timelord: (eye)
2006-05-24 04:45 am

(no subject)

A dream sometimes comes to him when he finally bows to the inevitable and finds someplace in which to sleep.

The Time Scaphe had returned, the only good sign to be seen at that time. And yet even that proved to be the strike of a double-edged sword, for the crew of the ship were not to be found. The viscous, vaguely orange substance had told us all we needed to know--they had been liquefied.

Omega was gone. The Other was no help whatsoever, preferring to proselytise rather than do anything useful. It had fallen to me to find out why the ship had returned and yet its crew had not. It was obvious that the vortex had destabilised their structure to such an extent as to reduce them to some sort of primordial material, but how?

The ship had survived. Something about it had kept it intact. Unlike so many other ships across the Galaxy, this one was no mere vessel of metal and technology. So few of our ships were, after all. Organic neural clusters augmented the ship's computers, knitted together hull and bulkhead, even offered a pilot a degree of intuition of handling unheard of in other spacefaring technology. I was certain that therein lay the key.

Days and nights passed into increasing weariness of mind and body while the Intuitive Revelation raged across the planet. Strange that I know this only by the sounds of fighting outside my laboratory.

The answer had come to me in a half-asleep meandering of thought during a rare moment of ceasefire as I lay idly watching a tree-vole gnawing leaves from a branch. It could only survive aboveground due to the tiny insects that colonised in various places on its body, and they could only derive food from the thin fluid that excreted from is skin. An odd symbiosis, but a symbiosis nevertheless, allowing the creature to travel to areas it ordinarily could not reach....

A symbiotic link. That was the only way.

To this day I've no idea if the symbiotic nuclei came into being because of fevered ravings or because of a true creative epiphany. Certainly their development caused the next--as I was told and vaguely remember--several months to pass in a haze of hallucinations, violent illness and screaming acidic pain, all of which I had apparently refused to have treated.

I'd come to myself in an infirmary, being stared down at, with that blasted shadowy Other lurking in the background like something out of a melodrama. I was told later that I'd mumbled and giggled in a semi-conscious daze before finally focussing on the first person I saw and telling them, as clearly as anything, that I'd come upon a discovery and that I'd like something to drink, thank you.

I do remember that, the memory staying with me at random intervals when I awake from too long of a sleep....
first_timelord: (oh oh see)
2006-05-14 09:45 pm

(no subject)

What songs remind you of Rassilon?

You know, I think this might end up a proper meme. Feel free to put the questions in your own characters' journals. ^.^
first_timelord: (watching time)
2006-05-12 04:24 pm

(no subject)

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)
2006-05-10 05:14 am

OOC Test

Test, one two three...

Anything but that.