or_timelords (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
or_timelords) wrote2009-01-06 11:40 am
or_timelords) wrote2009-01-06 11:40 am
Entry tags:
Memory Lane
Chatplay with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
watch_is_me from the 4th of January.
More chatplay spawned by the Epic Thread of Doom and Angst. It started out as a light 'let's get drunk together' scenario - we thought we'd take a break from the angst - but, well. It quickly turned into more epic angst, mostly angst concerning the Year That Wasn't. I can see a pattern developing. >_>
jasper: Mine: "Well, if I get silence out of this... *minor version of the Master-silence!addiction may result*"
teyla: Mine: silence, sex, whatever, jus' c'mere and lemme give you hugggggs
jasper: Mine: 9_9
jasper: Mine: *is still getting used to this whole "I have an alternate who likes to get smashed" thing*
teyla: Mine: *does not LIKE to get smashed. it just happens. >_>*
jasper: Mine: *pfft, they've had this conversation*
jasper: Mine: *ye olde, does not LIKE to kill things, it just happens*
teyla: Mine: * >:/ *
jasper: Mine: *told you, been here, had this conversation*
teyla: Mine: *if I don't get smashed anymore, will you stop killing Daleks?*
teyla: Mine: *will miss getting drunk. :/*
jasper: Mine: *...um, no. Need a bigger concession than that*
jasper: Mine: *would probably go for a) what's this thing about the Master? or b) so...you're sure you don't hear the drums? Freud time! He's supposed to help, so he'll try. Even though it doesn't come as naturally to him as it used to*
teyla: Mine: *There's nothing about the Master, I've just known him for a long time. And no, I don't hear any drums. Ever. except that one time, and those were YOUR drums. And if you're not gonna stop killing, I don't need to stop drinking, so I won't, because I'm sobering up and it's uncomfortable. :/*
jasper: Mine: *meh. He can't venture any opinions on this, but he doesn't *think* those were his drums, that was all pretty bizarre, though, and he's not sure*
jasper: Mine: *also, yes, sobriety is uncomfortable 9_9*
teyla: Mine: *moar - uh, what's this? eldearian brandy! cheers.*
jasper: Mine: *is not going to drink back, thanks. No enabling :| * *hides all the liquor in his TARDIS. Or leaves it in a cache on some moon, somewhere, probably*
teyla: Mine: *doesn't need his other's alcohol. has got his own stock, thank you very much.*
jasper: Mine: *hey, other TARDIS, mind if he just...sneaks on in here, and, um, where's his other keep the booze?*
teyla: TARDIS: *she'll work with others against her Doctor when it's things like her Doctor shrinking one of her sisters. but this? she can handle this. she has a habit of 'misplacing' his alcohol.*
teyla: TARDIS: *he's kinda ingenious about this, though. he somehow always manages to put one bottle somewhere that she overlooks. :/*
jasper: Mine: *damn. But he's pretty good at predicting how his own mind works, so he *will* look in a great many very odd places for hidden bottles*
teyla: TARDIS: *might not let him. this whole drinking thing isn't THAT bad, and she's loyal to her Time Lord. Mostly. besides, the whole alcohol thing only started to get this bad when they came here. so it's the other Doctor's fault anyway. >:(*
teyla: Mine: *will wonder where the fuck all the booze went. there's none on his other's TARDIS, and hardly any on his own. >:(*
jasper: Mine: *doodeedoo, innocent*
jasper: Mine: *will forget his other can get into his armory*
jasper: Mine: *and maybe do his own interventioning*
teyla: Mine: *no, he'll just make his own homemade booze. distilling alcohol, whee! also, this makes for much stronger booze. o.0 a LOT stronger booze.*
jasper: Mine: OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE.
jasper: Mine: *you've driven him to curse, look at what you've done B|*
teyla: Mine: %-] swearing is bad. *wags finger and almost pokes own eye out.*
jasper: Mine: Yes, well, taking your own eyes out is bad, too. Do you pilot your TARDIS like this?
teyla: Mine: Nooo. TARDIS is all parked in your TARDIS, look?
jasper: Mine: ...I didn't mean this very moment, I mean *generally.* DUI, have you done it?
teyla: Mine: ... no? >_>
jasper: Mine: Good.
jasper: Mine: I wouldn't want you smashing into the '80s, they're in bad enough shape as it is.
teyla: Mine: *giggles* Donna did that.
jasper: Mine: Did she? Dunno who's responsible in my universe. *will not admit he had a near-miss with the '80s back in his Ninth. Almost head on, it would have been a mess, big hair rippling out across time and space*
teyla: Mine: Noo, I mean, she didn't. someone did. she didn't. she almost did. the TARDIS liked her. *nostalgic sadface. now you've set him off.*
jasper: Mine: *helps himself to some moonshine after all, and settles down to listen, if he has to. This whole helping each other thing is a lot different than he thought it would be*
teyla: Mine: the TARDIS never pays attention to anyone I bring on board. Any human I mean. but she did with Donna. She liked her.
teyla: Mine: they had these proper girls' nights. it was strange. the TARDIS never did that before. with anyone.
teyla: Mine: and she was so sad when Donna left. she was so angry with me for making her leave.
jasper: Mine: *oi, this stuff *is* strong* That wasn't your fault. You had to do that.
jasper: Mine: *hm, this might actually be strong enough he won't be able to process it fast enough to avoid the effects. How concentrated *is* this?*
teyla: Mine: I know. the TARDIS was still angry. she didn't care that it would have killed her, I don't think she understood properly what that would have meant. for Donna.
jasper: Mine: Mm, you're right. I think you might be right. I don't think they understand, capacity. Limits. It's not neurons for them, it's...dunno what it is.
jasper: Mine: How did you manage this? You can only go to 100 percent alcohol, what kind of chemistry were you playing with?
teyla: Mine: *smirk* that's my seeeeekrit recipe.
jasper: Mine: *eyebrow* I reckon it is. *takes another drink, kinda grows on you*
teyla: Mine: *there's no secret recipe. this is actually the first time he's tried to make moonshine. he's satisfied enough, but he maybe should have used less of the Klarkear Enhancer.*
jasper: Mine: *thinks he used just enough, really*
jasper: Mine: *is already losing control over his mental shielding, which means he's making no effort to muffle the drums for his other's benefit*
teyla: Mine: *hasn't had a lot of the moonshine, but he doesn't need a lot. and so shortly after the whole incident in the lab, his other's drums produce an echo in the back of his head that's not quite an echo, and not quite his own rhythm. he's drunk, so he can't control it or block it out, and he's less scared of them, too. they're actually just making him more edgy, more needy. reaches out with his mind and grates it against his other's, briefly creating tension, before he pulls back again.
jasper: Mine: *blinks* HEL-lo, what was that?
teyla: Mine: *grins* you didn't like it? *he did. it intensified the rhythm, and made his spine go all tingly. he's very tempted to do it again.*
jasper: Mine: No, that was, 's different, that's all. Wasn't expecting that. *it wasn't like the Master's, that was...those were different. Like when his had just started out, uneven and faint and unbalancing* Bit scratchy. You might want to get your turntable looked at.
teyla: Mine: *way too tempted to use the worst pick-up line in the history of the universe and offer his other to check out his turntable. so tempted, in fact, that his other will probably pick it up in his mind.*
jasper: Mine: *SPLORFLE*
jasper: Mine: *excuse him while he wipes moonshine off of his face*
teyla: Mine: *delighted at having amused his other. is quite amused himself, and leans over to rest his chin on his other's shoulder* I've got a turntable that needs looking at. would you like to, um, give me a ~hand~?
jasper: Mine: *is just laughing and trying to get alcohol out of his eyes, blimey, that stings*
jasper: Mine: Oi, didn't know we were quite *that* desperate. ...How much does a polar bear weigh?
teyla: Mine: m'not desperate. I just get lonely. and I don't have a clue, why?
jasper: Mine: Just enough to break the ice. Terrible line, can you believe they come up with those? Humans.
jasper: Mine: Yeah. Yeah. I know. *about the lonely* *is suddenly serious in that Very Serious fashion that drunk people have*
teyla: Mine: *takes a moment to figure out the polar bear joke - he's drunk, and he's never been very good with puns and jokes like that - but when he does, it's his turn to laugh out loudly. he stops when his other gets all Serious, though, and leans closer. Which means he's more or less lying in his other's lap now.* You don't have to be. I don't have to be. Not right now.
jasper: Mine: *looks down at his other* Well, now, see, that's the *question.* If you're talking to yourself in a forest, are you still lonely?
jasper: Mine: *seriously, that made sense in his head*
teyla: Mine: *blinks* why in a forest?
jasper: Mine: I dunno. Because there are trees.
teyla: Mine: you're never alone in a forest. there's tons of animals and all sorts of living things in a forest.
jasper: Mine: Rubbish at conversation, underbrush.
jasper: And squirrels. No good at all for a chat, squirrels.
teyla: Mine: this is true. although the squirrels on Betazund Minor are quite chatty.
jasper: Mine: Yeah, but they don't half need *you* there to have a conversation, do they? I walked out on Skr-tck the Dendric once, came back a half hour later, he was still going on. Relative merits of--what was it? Black walnut dye to that kind with the little bugs. The beetles they crush up, you know.
jasper: Mine: *is going to have some more of this moonshine stuff*
teyla: Mine: yeah... *likes talking to the squirrels. they don't listen. you can tell them anything and avoid the fallout that would follow if anyone had actually listened to what you said.*
jasper: Mine: *begins singing "I Like to Talk to the Animals," from the musical Dr. Doolittle*
jasper: Mine: *is apparently getting a little mental bleed from his other here*
teyla: Mine: *starts laughing. his other can't sing. really, can't. and he can't stop laughing, apparently.*
jasper: Mine: *he thinks he sings just fine! Granted, he keeps losing the proper time signature and wandering off into a rather militant beat*
teyla: Mine: *isn't noticing. is trying not to suffocate from laughter. joins in, laughing and spluttering.*
jasper: Mine: *hey, his other isn't have any problem keeping up with the weird rhythmic twist he's put on the song. That's...there's something wrong with that. He stops singing, puzzled*
teyla: Mine: *isn't noticing. is carrying on, accompanied by the rhythm in his head.*
teyla: Mine: *which is his other's and his own, synchronized.*
jasper: Mine: *runs a hand up the back of his other's neck, to rest on the crown of his head. Listens intently mentally, which involves a great deal of Thinky Frowning*
teyla: Mine: *enjoying the caress and the physical and mental contact. stops actually singing and just hums a rhythmical melody, his fingers tapping on his other's knees in time.*
jasper: Mine: *is sobering up, because *he* can, and this seems serious enough to require it* That's not mine. You've got it wrong.
teyla: Mine: *hums* what? *sleepy and comfortable and drunk and absolutely oblivious to any thinky frowning going on in the vicinity.*
jasper: Mine: It's *1*-2-3-4, not...1-*2*-3-4. Look, like this-*and he initiates slight rapport, so his other can hear*
teyla: Mine: *suddenly, there's change in his other's drumming, and there are now two sets. two sets of drums, and one of them is not his other's. one of them is his own. his eyes snap open, and he scrambles to a seating position, away from his other.* What did you just do?! *he's still drunk, his eyes slightly unfocused, but instead of being happy and content, he's wary and somewhat terrified.*
jasper: Mine: What? Nothing, just...you've not got it right. Just thought...you might want to know. *he taps his own rhythm on the tabletop*
jasper: Mine: *okay, maybe he should work on getting soberer faster, because this is more serious than he's treating it, he thinks*
teyla: Mine: *the reason he got smashed in the first place was that he was feeling not a real rhythm, but an echo in the back of his mind. it's happened more and more since that experiment in the lab, and it scares him more than anything. the close mental connection to his other, though, has intensified the drums, and now they're there, undeniably.* I don't want to know anything. I'm not getting anything right or wrong. What are you talking about, just take them away!
jasper: Mine: *frowns, brows drawn down* They're not mine.
teyla: Mine: They aren't mine. I don't have them. They have to be yours. *and there's pleading in that tone. because he can't have the drums. not permanent. not like this.*
jasper: Mine: *still working on a bit drunk, so he's not entirely certain why his other is so upset* Mine are in here. *he taps the side of his head, and, with a bit of work, slips his mental shields up so they're muffled to outside "ears" as much as they ever can be* Not going anywhere, mine.
jasper: Mine: Yours are rough. Cat's-tongue rough. I prefer mine.
teyla: Mine: *shakes his head. he's pretty drunk, and terrified, and he has no clue how to deal with this right now. because there are memories coming back to him, of his own drums grating their rough edge against the master's hard, lethal, steady ones just as he himself was grating against the Master's bonds, the Master's restraints, the Master's domination and oppression, and he can't stop them, can't keep them at bay as usual. he clutches his head, covering his ears, which of course accomplishes nothing.* I don't have them. I didn't. That never happened.
jasper: Mine: *and, of course, this may be a problem, these memories, because the Doctor's rhythm is identical to the Master's, just as regular and steady and inevitable* What? No, it *did* happen, you were singing, *we* were singing, and before that...before that--*and he's strayed back into trying to remember what happened in the Zero Room, which is very difficult* You've had them. You've *had* them. How long? Why didn't you tell me?
teyla: I don't! *he didn't. that never happened. he DIDN'T.* I never had them! These are YOURS, not mine, these are left over from the experiment we did, and I never, I didn't have them. Ever.
jasper: Mine: No. *he's sober again, or almost there. And he's certain of this, though the memories of *why* he's certain, he can't quite touch* No, you're like me. They came to you, and you... I can't remember, tell me! You *hid* them! How did you do that? *and he's very intent and almost angry, because there's been a lie between them, an untruth, how didn't he notice this earlier?*
teyla: Mine: *needs to get away. from his other, from the drums, from his questions. he gets to his feet, just so keeping his precarious balance.* Stay away from me. Don't touch me. I don't have them, I never did, it never happened, I REVERSED it. It's not part of this universe, it's not a part of ME. I am NOT like you.
jasper: Mine: Yes, you ARE. Stay HERE, answer me! *and he follows his other up, standing, much steadier on his feet, grabs him by the arm, roughly, and keeps him from leaving*
teyla: Mine: *tears himself from his other's grip, stumbling. he would have fallen if there hadn't been the wall behind him. he's still trying to get away, and he's terrified, of his other, of what's in his mind, of the rhythm in his head that is now telling him to defend himself, to MAKE his other go away.* I'm NOT. It wasn't me, it was him, they were HIS drums, not mine. I never had them. I never had them. Never. *and he's remembering it, the first time the rhythm stayed with him when the Master left, and he remembers how they made him turn into the Master's pet, how all they wanted was to be with the Master, with his drums, with his rhythm, how they needed him, needed his abuse, his violence, his hatred.* They were his. *his voice is quiet now, and there are tears in his eyes.* Not mine, they were his.
jasper: Mine: *he sees the tears in his other's eyes, and he knows--guesses/knows, from those memories that are too big to understand, from the Zero Room--what his other must be remembering* They're not *his.* Listen. Mine aren't his. *Yours* aren't his. *he approaches his other, catches his chin in his hand, tilts his face up, so he can look into his eyes, searching for something*
teyla: Mine: *he's staring up into his other's eyes, unable to protest, unable to move away. the rhythm in his head wants his other to take control, wants him to give them the violence and the hate they need, and even though the Doctor himself knows this is wrong, this is not how it's supposed to be, he can't move. he's completely at his other's mercy. the way he used to be at his mercy. helpless, defenceless. reduced to nothing but plain survival.*
jasper: Mine: Tell me when they started. *he knows, but he wants to hear, and the drums say it's right, to take control like this. He can't understand the sound of his other's rhythm--it's not the same as his, it grates at him, it makes him want to crush it, to drown it out with his own*
teyla: Mine: please. don't make me do this. don't make me remember. *please*.
jasper: Mine: Tell me. *or he'll look for himself, finding the wound in his other's mind, now raw and reopened, and seeing what his other has been hiding from him. From both of them*
teyla: Mine: *he closes his eyes, he might as well say, it's too late anyway, he remembers. he remembers it all, every little detail, the year that wasn't, that's only in his head, only a memory.* They started when he destroyed Japan. *his voice is quiet, tear choked because so many people dead, and he'd just stood there and watched them burn to death, every single one of them screaming for their lives, and he'd just stood there watching, listening to the Master's jokes and jibes.* He destroyed Japan, and he said he - *He said he did it in the Doctor's honor, a tribute to what happened to Gallifrey, all those lives, extinguished, so many and yet so few compared to how many died when Gallifrey burned.* He killed all those people, because of me, and then he - *and then he took him, in his bedroom, making him remember, the day Gallifrey burned, and the Doctor knew how much of a rush it had been for the Master to feel the destruction, to know that he was fucking the man who had killed billions. The Doctor shakes his head.* when he left, they stayed. they stayed, they always stayed.
jasper: Mine: *he lets his other go, and then hugs him, tight, outraged--but not at his other, not at this moment, but at the Master, for doing this to him. The Doctor in black lived with the drums, on his own terms, for years before learning that the Master has them, too--his other never had the time, to try to understand them, for himself. They're the Master, to him, a contagion passed on through violence*
jasper: Mine: They are *not his.* *he says into his other's ear, voice as tight and charged and protective as the embrace. If he sees the Master again, he will *kill* him*
teyla: Mine: *he lets his other hug him. of course he does. he's not capable of taking any action on his own, the drums won't let him. he's just breathing, harshly, and he's not here, he's back on the Valiant, back where nothing made sense and everything died and he had been as incapable and helpless as he is now.*
teyla: Mine: *somehow it's good to be back. it's simple. and there's always the prospect that it will end some day, and that it all won't have happened, even if it gets more hypothetical each day.*
jasper: Mine: *senses this, that the drums came to his other from the terrible fugue of helplessness and eventual apathy, when his own were gained through action and refusing even a *moment* of helplessness*
jasper: Mine: *he can't imagine... He can't imagine not taking action, and he can't imagine how his other survived that. He can't decide who to be most appalled at, his other or the Master*
jasper: Mine: *so he'll hold him, fierce and bristling with the desire to hurt *someone,* for what has been done to his other, for what his other has done to *himself,* the drums loud in his mind, but objectless. He strokes the back of his other's head, as though he were a child, and feels him remember*
teyla: Mine: *it's all there. Japan, Europe, North America, the trips the Master would take, like hunting trips, and that he would tell him about in detail when he got back to the Valiant - how the humans had screamed, how they had begged, how they had tried to bargain, tried to betray everyone they knew only to spare their own pathetic lives. He remembers how everything had turned into a barren wasteland, ruled by terror, and how he couldn't save them. Couldn't save any of them. And he remembers the pain of the torture and the pain/pleasure of the sex and the apathy he'd felt eventually at the Master killing Jack over and over, Jack screaming and cursing and never giving in. Martha's family, suffering, and he couldn't even care about them. Couldn't let himself. The only thing he could let himself care about was the Master, the Master and his drums, the Master who used to be Koschei and who needed someone, who needed his Theta. And in the end, he couldn't even save the Master.*
jasper: Mine: *but his other did save the world. In the end, Martha and his other saved the world, and that won't change what his other had to let happen, to save it, he knows that, but he *did* save it. The Earth remained, after. The Earth and humanity survived what he had to do. That's good, that's so good. He tries to find that place in his other's memories, where all the deaths that had been suddenly were no longer, and to help his other feel that. That moment*
jasper: Mine: *and the drums still continue to beat in his own mind, slow and smoldering, none of the sandpapery brushing newness of his other's, long hidden and rejected, but loud and whole and part of him, anchored deep into his identity*
teyla: *he remembers that, too. that moment when he'd felt the psychic energy of the whole world raise him up, and he can't even describe what he'd felt. Most of all, he'd been sorry. sorry to have let it come to this, sorry for having to hurt again in order to end this. sorry for not having cared. sorry for still not being sure if he cared. when time had been reversing, it had been a rush, and it had been so surprising, so confusing to *feel* again, to smile, to clutch Martha's hands in his own and have her at his side and to be the Doctor again. That's when they stopped, that's when they went away, he went back to being the Doctor and the drums went away. But now they're back, and he doesn't know what that means, is scared that it means that they were never really gone, that he never went back to being the Doctor. does it mean that? he's not realizing it, but he's digging his fingers into his other's jacket now, holding on. am I still who I was or am I just a cheap, fake copy with bent edges? his other is the Doctor, he knows that he is because he has looked into his mind. a mind with the drums. he doesn't understand, he can't understand.*
jasper: Mine: *and his other doesn't know how to help. He's asked himself the same questions, as he's changed, as he found the drums, as he woke from imprisonment to a new-old body and a shared self. He can't say. Are they the Doctor? Each regeneration, they continue on, they rename themselves the Doctor, even as they change appearance, personality, friends... Are they the same man? When they kill or let die, does that make them less who they are? He doesn't have that answer. He just continues. Calls himself the Doctor, and the universe seems to believe him*
jasper: Mine: *the only person who doesn't quite believe is himself. He can tell his other that yes, they're the Doctor, they're both of them the Doctor, but he knows that neither of them, really, will quite believe. They have that in common*
jasper: Mine: *they have more in common than he'd imagined*
jasper: Mine: "C'mon, Doctor. Let's get you to your TARDIS." *they don't share the same link, but maybe she can still help him. His other needs someone. Afterwards, they can talk about this. He won't let his other avoid it any longer*
teyla: Mine: *comes with his other willingly. it's too much to think about right now, he's more lost than he's ever been in his life, and even making an as simple decision as to which way to go seems too much right now. when he enters his TARDIS, she's there in his mind, offering him warmth and a place to be, a place to stay, a place to rest his head and forget for now. he's grateful, he wants to forget, wants it all out of his head again because it's too much and it's making it burst. so when he's in his TARDIS, she takes over, leading him to a place where he can lie down, and sleep, and forget for now.
jasper: Mine: *he'll follow, and make certain that his other manages to go to sleep safely, and he'll stay beside him, in the room, as he sleeps, though he'll be restless, pacing and tapping his rhythm. They need to talk, and than they need to act. Something will have to be done, though he doesn't know what*
teyla: Mine: *won't wake up for a while. The alcohol, and the emotional strain have exhausted him, and the TARDIS is making sure that his sleep stays shallow enough so he won't dream. this means, however, that when he finally does wake up, he doesn't feel very rested. he also feels somewhat sick, and very much in the mood for shoving all of this back underneath the layers of denial and repression. the drums are there, but he ignores them stubbornly.*
watch_is_me from the 4th of January.More chatplay spawned by the Epic Thread of Doom and Angst. It started out as a light 'let's get drunk together' scenario - we thought we'd take a break from the angst - but, well. It quickly turned into more epic angst, mostly angst concerning the Year That Wasn't. I can see a pattern developing. >_>
jasper: Mine: "Well, if I get silence out of this... *minor version of the Master-silence!addiction may result*"
teyla: Mine: silence, sex, whatever, jus' c'mere and lemme give you hugggggs
jasper: Mine: 9_9
jasper: Mine: *is still getting used to this whole "I have an alternate who likes to get smashed" thing*
teyla: Mine: *does not LIKE to get smashed. it just happens. >_>*
jasper: Mine: *pfft, they've had this conversation*
jasper: Mine: *ye olde, does not LIKE to kill things, it just happens*
teyla: Mine: * >:/ *
jasper: Mine: *told you, been here, had this conversation*
teyla: Mine: *if I don't get smashed anymore, will you stop killing Daleks?*
teyla: Mine: *will miss getting drunk. :/*
jasper: Mine: *...um, no. Need a bigger concession than that*
jasper: Mine: *would probably go for a) what's this thing about the Master? or b) so...you're sure you don't hear the drums? Freud time! He's supposed to help, so he'll try. Even though it doesn't come as naturally to him as it used to*
teyla: Mine: *There's nothing about the Master, I've just known him for a long time. And no, I don't hear any drums. Ever. except that one time, and those were YOUR drums. And if you're not gonna stop killing, I don't need to stop drinking, so I won't, because I'm sobering up and it's uncomfortable. :/*
jasper: Mine: *meh. He can't venture any opinions on this, but he doesn't *think* those were his drums, that was all pretty bizarre, though, and he's not sure*
jasper: Mine: *also, yes, sobriety is uncomfortable 9_9*
teyla: Mine: *moar - uh, what's this? eldearian brandy! cheers.*
jasper: Mine: *is not going to drink back, thanks. No enabling :| * *hides all the liquor in his TARDIS. Or leaves it in a cache on some moon, somewhere, probably*
teyla: Mine: *doesn't need his other's alcohol. has got his own stock, thank you very much.*
jasper: Mine: *hey, other TARDIS, mind if he just...sneaks on in here, and, um, where's his other keep the booze?*
teyla: TARDIS: *she'll work with others against her Doctor when it's things like her Doctor shrinking one of her sisters. but this? she can handle this. she has a habit of 'misplacing' his alcohol.*
teyla: TARDIS: *he's kinda ingenious about this, though. he somehow always manages to put one bottle somewhere that she overlooks. :/*
jasper: Mine: *damn. But he's pretty good at predicting how his own mind works, so he *will* look in a great many very odd places for hidden bottles*
teyla: TARDIS: *might not let him. this whole drinking thing isn't THAT bad, and she's loyal to her Time Lord. Mostly. besides, the whole alcohol thing only started to get this bad when they came here. so it's the other Doctor's fault anyway. >:(*
teyla: Mine: *will wonder where the fuck all the booze went. there's none on his other's TARDIS, and hardly any on his own. >:(*
jasper: Mine: *doodeedoo, innocent*
jasper: Mine: *will forget his other can get into his armory*
jasper: Mine: *and maybe do his own interventioning*
teyla: Mine: *no, he'll just make his own homemade booze. distilling alcohol, whee! also, this makes for much stronger booze. o.0 a LOT stronger booze.*
jasper: Mine: OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE.
jasper: Mine: *you've driven him to curse, look at what you've done B|*
teyla: Mine: %-] swearing is bad. *wags finger and almost pokes own eye out.*
jasper: Mine: Yes, well, taking your own eyes out is bad, too. Do you pilot your TARDIS like this?
teyla: Mine: Nooo. TARDIS is all parked in your TARDIS, look?
jasper: Mine: ...I didn't mean this very moment, I mean *generally.* DUI, have you done it?
teyla: Mine: ... no? >_>
jasper: Mine: Good.
jasper: Mine: I wouldn't want you smashing into the '80s, they're in bad enough shape as it is.
teyla: Mine: *giggles* Donna did that.
jasper: Mine: Did she? Dunno who's responsible in my universe. *will not admit he had a near-miss with the '80s back in his Ninth. Almost head on, it would have been a mess, big hair rippling out across time and space*
teyla: Mine: Noo, I mean, she didn't. someone did. she didn't. she almost did. the TARDIS liked her. *nostalgic sadface. now you've set him off.*
jasper: Mine: *helps himself to some moonshine after all, and settles down to listen, if he has to. This whole helping each other thing is a lot different than he thought it would be*
teyla: Mine: the TARDIS never pays attention to anyone I bring on board. Any human I mean. but she did with Donna. She liked her.
teyla: Mine: they had these proper girls' nights. it was strange. the TARDIS never did that before. with anyone.
teyla: Mine: and she was so sad when Donna left. she was so angry with me for making her leave.
jasper: Mine: *oi, this stuff *is* strong* That wasn't your fault. You had to do that.
jasper: Mine: *hm, this might actually be strong enough he won't be able to process it fast enough to avoid the effects. How concentrated *is* this?*
teyla: Mine: I know. the TARDIS was still angry. she didn't care that it would have killed her, I don't think she understood properly what that would have meant. for Donna.
jasper: Mine: Mm, you're right. I think you might be right. I don't think they understand, capacity. Limits. It's not neurons for them, it's...dunno what it is.
jasper: Mine: How did you manage this? You can only go to 100 percent alcohol, what kind of chemistry were you playing with?
teyla: Mine: *smirk* that's my seeeeekrit recipe.
jasper: Mine: *eyebrow* I reckon it is. *takes another drink, kinda grows on you*
teyla: Mine: *there's no secret recipe. this is actually the first time he's tried to make moonshine. he's satisfied enough, but he maybe should have used less of the Klarkear Enhancer.*
jasper: Mine: *thinks he used just enough, really*
jasper: Mine: *is already losing control over his mental shielding, which means he's making no effort to muffle the drums for his other's benefit*
teyla: Mine: *hasn't had a lot of the moonshine, but he doesn't need a lot. and so shortly after the whole incident in the lab, his other's drums produce an echo in the back of his head that's not quite an echo, and not quite his own rhythm. he's drunk, so he can't control it or block it out, and he's less scared of them, too. they're actually just making him more edgy, more needy. reaches out with his mind and grates it against his other's, briefly creating tension, before he pulls back again.
jasper: Mine: *blinks* HEL-lo, what was that?
teyla: Mine: *grins* you didn't like it? *he did. it intensified the rhythm, and made his spine go all tingly. he's very tempted to do it again.*
jasper: Mine: No, that was, 's different, that's all. Wasn't expecting that. *it wasn't like the Master's, that was...those were different. Like when his had just started out, uneven and faint and unbalancing* Bit scratchy. You might want to get your turntable looked at.
teyla: Mine: *way too tempted to use the worst pick-up line in the history of the universe and offer his other to check out his turntable. so tempted, in fact, that his other will probably pick it up in his mind.*
jasper: Mine: *SPLORFLE*
jasper: Mine: *excuse him while he wipes moonshine off of his face*
teyla: Mine: *delighted at having amused his other. is quite amused himself, and leans over to rest his chin on his other's shoulder* I've got a turntable that needs looking at. would you like to, um, give me a ~hand~?
jasper: Mine: *is just laughing and trying to get alcohol out of his eyes, blimey, that stings*
jasper: Mine: Oi, didn't know we were quite *that* desperate. ...How much does a polar bear weigh?
teyla: Mine: m'not desperate. I just get lonely. and I don't have a clue, why?
jasper: Mine: Just enough to break the ice. Terrible line, can you believe they come up with those? Humans.
jasper: Mine: Yeah. Yeah. I know. *about the lonely* *is suddenly serious in that Very Serious fashion that drunk people have*
teyla: Mine: *takes a moment to figure out the polar bear joke - he's drunk, and he's never been very good with puns and jokes like that - but when he does, it's his turn to laugh out loudly. he stops when his other gets all Serious, though, and leans closer. Which means he's more or less lying in his other's lap now.* You don't have to be. I don't have to be. Not right now.
jasper: Mine: *looks down at his other* Well, now, see, that's the *question.* If you're talking to yourself in a forest, are you still lonely?
jasper: Mine: *seriously, that made sense in his head*
teyla: Mine: *blinks* why in a forest?
jasper: Mine: I dunno. Because there are trees.
teyla: Mine: you're never alone in a forest. there's tons of animals and all sorts of living things in a forest.
jasper: Mine: Rubbish at conversation, underbrush.
jasper: And squirrels. No good at all for a chat, squirrels.
teyla: Mine: this is true. although the squirrels on Betazund Minor are quite chatty.
jasper: Mine: Yeah, but they don't half need *you* there to have a conversation, do they? I walked out on Skr-tck the Dendric once, came back a half hour later, he was still going on. Relative merits of--what was it? Black walnut dye to that kind with the little bugs. The beetles they crush up, you know.
jasper: Mine: *is going to have some more of this moonshine stuff*
teyla: Mine: yeah... *likes talking to the squirrels. they don't listen. you can tell them anything and avoid the fallout that would follow if anyone had actually listened to what you said.*
jasper: Mine: *begins singing "I Like to Talk to the Animals," from the musical Dr. Doolittle*
jasper: Mine: *is apparently getting a little mental bleed from his other here*
teyla: Mine: *starts laughing. his other can't sing. really, can't. and he can't stop laughing, apparently.*
jasper: Mine: *he thinks he sings just fine! Granted, he keeps losing the proper time signature and wandering off into a rather militant beat*
teyla: Mine: *isn't noticing. is trying not to suffocate from laughter. joins in, laughing and spluttering.*
jasper: Mine: *hey, his other isn't have any problem keeping up with the weird rhythmic twist he's put on the song. That's...there's something wrong with that. He stops singing, puzzled*
teyla: Mine: *isn't noticing. is carrying on, accompanied by the rhythm in his head.*
teyla: Mine: *which is his other's and his own, synchronized.*
jasper: Mine: *runs a hand up the back of his other's neck, to rest on the crown of his head. Listens intently mentally, which involves a great deal of Thinky Frowning*
teyla: Mine: *enjoying the caress and the physical and mental contact. stops actually singing and just hums a rhythmical melody, his fingers tapping on his other's knees in time.*
jasper: Mine: *is sobering up, because *he* can, and this seems serious enough to require it* That's not mine. You've got it wrong.
teyla: Mine: *hums* what? *sleepy and comfortable and drunk and absolutely oblivious to any thinky frowning going on in the vicinity.*
jasper: Mine: It's *1*-2-3-4, not...1-*2*-3-4. Look, like this-*and he initiates slight rapport, so his other can hear*
teyla: Mine: *suddenly, there's change in his other's drumming, and there are now two sets. two sets of drums, and one of them is not his other's. one of them is his own. his eyes snap open, and he scrambles to a seating position, away from his other.* What did you just do?! *he's still drunk, his eyes slightly unfocused, but instead of being happy and content, he's wary and somewhat terrified.*
jasper: Mine: What? Nothing, just...you've not got it right. Just thought...you might want to know. *he taps his own rhythm on the tabletop*
jasper: Mine: *okay, maybe he should work on getting soberer faster, because this is more serious than he's treating it, he thinks*
teyla: Mine: *the reason he got smashed in the first place was that he was feeling not a real rhythm, but an echo in the back of his mind. it's happened more and more since that experiment in the lab, and it scares him more than anything. the close mental connection to his other, though, has intensified the drums, and now they're there, undeniably.* I don't want to know anything. I'm not getting anything right or wrong. What are you talking about, just take them away!
jasper: Mine: *frowns, brows drawn down* They're not mine.
teyla: Mine: They aren't mine. I don't have them. They have to be yours. *and there's pleading in that tone. because he can't have the drums. not permanent. not like this.*
jasper: Mine: *still working on a bit drunk, so he's not entirely certain why his other is so upset* Mine are in here. *he taps the side of his head, and, with a bit of work, slips his mental shields up so they're muffled to outside "ears" as much as they ever can be* Not going anywhere, mine.
jasper: Mine: Yours are rough. Cat's-tongue rough. I prefer mine.
teyla: Mine: *shakes his head. he's pretty drunk, and terrified, and he has no clue how to deal with this right now. because there are memories coming back to him, of his own drums grating their rough edge against the master's hard, lethal, steady ones just as he himself was grating against the Master's bonds, the Master's restraints, the Master's domination and oppression, and he can't stop them, can't keep them at bay as usual. he clutches his head, covering his ears, which of course accomplishes nothing.* I don't have them. I didn't. That never happened.
jasper: Mine: *and, of course, this may be a problem, these memories, because the Doctor's rhythm is identical to the Master's, just as regular and steady and inevitable* What? No, it *did* happen, you were singing, *we* were singing, and before that...before that--*and he's strayed back into trying to remember what happened in the Zero Room, which is very difficult* You've had them. You've *had* them. How long? Why didn't you tell me?
teyla: I don't! *he didn't. that never happened. he DIDN'T.* I never had them! These are YOURS, not mine, these are left over from the experiment we did, and I never, I didn't have them. Ever.
jasper: Mine: No. *he's sober again, or almost there. And he's certain of this, though the memories of *why* he's certain, he can't quite touch* No, you're like me. They came to you, and you... I can't remember, tell me! You *hid* them! How did you do that? *and he's very intent and almost angry, because there's been a lie between them, an untruth, how didn't he notice this earlier?*
teyla: Mine: *needs to get away. from his other, from the drums, from his questions. he gets to his feet, just so keeping his precarious balance.* Stay away from me. Don't touch me. I don't have them, I never did, it never happened, I REVERSED it. It's not part of this universe, it's not a part of ME. I am NOT like you.
jasper: Mine: Yes, you ARE. Stay HERE, answer me! *and he follows his other up, standing, much steadier on his feet, grabs him by the arm, roughly, and keeps him from leaving*
teyla: Mine: *tears himself from his other's grip, stumbling. he would have fallen if there hadn't been the wall behind him. he's still trying to get away, and he's terrified, of his other, of what's in his mind, of the rhythm in his head that is now telling him to defend himself, to MAKE his other go away.* I'm NOT. It wasn't me, it was him, they were HIS drums, not mine. I never had them. I never had them. Never. *and he's remembering it, the first time the rhythm stayed with him when the Master left, and he remembers how they made him turn into the Master's pet, how all they wanted was to be with the Master, with his drums, with his rhythm, how they needed him, needed his abuse, his violence, his hatred.* They were his. *his voice is quiet now, and there are tears in his eyes.* Not mine, they were his.
jasper: Mine: *he sees the tears in his other's eyes, and he knows--guesses/knows, from those memories that are too big to understand, from the Zero Room--what his other must be remembering* They're not *his.* Listen. Mine aren't his. *Yours* aren't his. *he approaches his other, catches his chin in his hand, tilts his face up, so he can look into his eyes, searching for something*
teyla: Mine: *he's staring up into his other's eyes, unable to protest, unable to move away. the rhythm in his head wants his other to take control, wants him to give them the violence and the hate they need, and even though the Doctor himself knows this is wrong, this is not how it's supposed to be, he can't move. he's completely at his other's mercy. the way he used to be at his mercy. helpless, defenceless. reduced to nothing but plain survival.*
jasper: Mine: Tell me when they started. *he knows, but he wants to hear, and the drums say it's right, to take control like this. He can't understand the sound of his other's rhythm--it's not the same as his, it grates at him, it makes him want to crush it, to drown it out with his own*
teyla: Mine: please. don't make me do this. don't make me remember. *please*.
jasper: Mine: Tell me. *or he'll look for himself, finding the wound in his other's mind, now raw and reopened, and seeing what his other has been hiding from him. From both of them*
teyla: Mine: *he closes his eyes, he might as well say, it's too late anyway, he remembers. he remembers it all, every little detail, the year that wasn't, that's only in his head, only a memory.* They started when he destroyed Japan. *his voice is quiet, tear choked because so many people dead, and he'd just stood there and watched them burn to death, every single one of them screaming for their lives, and he'd just stood there watching, listening to the Master's jokes and jibes.* He destroyed Japan, and he said he - *He said he did it in the Doctor's honor, a tribute to what happened to Gallifrey, all those lives, extinguished, so many and yet so few compared to how many died when Gallifrey burned.* He killed all those people, because of me, and then he - *and then he took him, in his bedroom, making him remember, the day Gallifrey burned, and the Doctor knew how much of a rush it had been for the Master to feel the destruction, to know that he was fucking the man who had killed billions. The Doctor shakes his head.* when he left, they stayed. they stayed, they always stayed.
jasper: Mine: *he lets his other go, and then hugs him, tight, outraged--but not at his other, not at this moment, but at the Master, for doing this to him. The Doctor in black lived with the drums, on his own terms, for years before learning that the Master has them, too--his other never had the time, to try to understand them, for himself. They're the Master, to him, a contagion passed on through violence*
jasper: Mine: They are *not his.* *he says into his other's ear, voice as tight and charged and protective as the embrace. If he sees the Master again, he will *kill* him*
teyla: Mine: *he lets his other hug him. of course he does. he's not capable of taking any action on his own, the drums won't let him. he's just breathing, harshly, and he's not here, he's back on the Valiant, back where nothing made sense and everything died and he had been as incapable and helpless as he is now.*
teyla: Mine: *somehow it's good to be back. it's simple. and there's always the prospect that it will end some day, and that it all won't have happened, even if it gets more hypothetical each day.*
jasper: Mine: *senses this, that the drums came to his other from the terrible fugue of helplessness and eventual apathy, when his own were gained through action and refusing even a *moment* of helplessness*
jasper: Mine: *he can't imagine... He can't imagine not taking action, and he can't imagine how his other survived that. He can't decide who to be most appalled at, his other or the Master*
jasper: Mine: *so he'll hold him, fierce and bristling with the desire to hurt *someone,* for what has been done to his other, for what his other has done to *himself,* the drums loud in his mind, but objectless. He strokes the back of his other's head, as though he were a child, and feels him remember*
teyla: Mine: *it's all there. Japan, Europe, North America, the trips the Master would take, like hunting trips, and that he would tell him about in detail when he got back to the Valiant - how the humans had screamed, how they had begged, how they had tried to bargain, tried to betray everyone they knew only to spare their own pathetic lives. He remembers how everything had turned into a barren wasteland, ruled by terror, and how he couldn't save them. Couldn't save any of them. And he remembers the pain of the torture and the pain/pleasure of the sex and the apathy he'd felt eventually at the Master killing Jack over and over, Jack screaming and cursing and never giving in. Martha's family, suffering, and he couldn't even care about them. Couldn't let himself. The only thing he could let himself care about was the Master, the Master and his drums, the Master who used to be Koschei and who needed someone, who needed his Theta. And in the end, he couldn't even save the Master.*
jasper: Mine: *but his other did save the world. In the end, Martha and his other saved the world, and that won't change what his other had to let happen, to save it, he knows that, but he *did* save it. The Earth remained, after. The Earth and humanity survived what he had to do. That's good, that's so good. He tries to find that place in his other's memories, where all the deaths that had been suddenly were no longer, and to help his other feel that. That moment*
jasper: Mine: *and the drums still continue to beat in his own mind, slow and smoldering, none of the sandpapery brushing newness of his other's, long hidden and rejected, but loud and whole and part of him, anchored deep into his identity*
teyla: *he remembers that, too. that moment when he'd felt the psychic energy of the whole world raise him up, and he can't even describe what he'd felt. Most of all, he'd been sorry. sorry to have let it come to this, sorry for having to hurt again in order to end this. sorry for not having cared. sorry for still not being sure if he cared. when time had been reversing, it had been a rush, and it had been so surprising, so confusing to *feel* again, to smile, to clutch Martha's hands in his own and have her at his side and to be the Doctor again. That's when they stopped, that's when they went away, he went back to being the Doctor and the drums went away. But now they're back, and he doesn't know what that means, is scared that it means that they were never really gone, that he never went back to being the Doctor. does it mean that? he's not realizing it, but he's digging his fingers into his other's jacket now, holding on. am I still who I was or am I just a cheap, fake copy with bent edges? his other is the Doctor, he knows that he is because he has looked into his mind. a mind with the drums. he doesn't understand, he can't understand.*
jasper: Mine: *and his other doesn't know how to help. He's asked himself the same questions, as he's changed, as he found the drums, as he woke from imprisonment to a new-old body and a shared self. He can't say. Are they the Doctor? Each regeneration, they continue on, they rename themselves the Doctor, even as they change appearance, personality, friends... Are they the same man? When they kill or let die, does that make them less who they are? He doesn't have that answer. He just continues. Calls himself the Doctor, and the universe seems to believe him*
jasper: Mine: *the only person who doesn't quite believe is himself. He can tell his other that yes, they're the Doctor, they're both of them the Doctor, but he knows that neither of them, really, will quite believe. They have that in common*
jasper: Mine: *they have more in common than he'd imagined*
jasper: Mine: "C'mon, Doctor. Let's get you to your TARDIS." *they don't share the same link, but maybe she can still help him. His other needs someone. Afterwards, they can talk about this. He won't let his other avoid it any longer*
teyla: Mine: *comes with his other willingly. it's too much to think about right now, he's more lost than he's ever been in his life, and even making an as simple decision as to which way to go seems too much right now. when he enters his TARDIS, she's there in his mind, offering him warmth and a place to be, a place to stay, a place to rest his head and forget for now. he's grateful, he wants to forget, wants it all out of his head again because it's too much and it's making it burst. so when he's in his TARDIS, she takes over, leading him to a place where he can lie down, and sleep, and forget for now.
jasper: Mine: *he'll follow, and make certain that his other manages to go to sleep safely, and he'll stay beside him, in the room, as he sleeps, though he'll be restless, pacing and tapping his rhythm. They need to talk, and than they need to act. Something will have to be done, though he doesn't know what*
teyla: Mine: *won't wake up for a while. The alcohol, and the emotional strain have exhausted him, and the TARDIS is making sure that his sleep stays shallow enough so he won't dream. this means, however, that when he finally does wake up, he doesn't feel very rested. he also feels somewhat sick, and very much in the mood for shoving all of this back underneath the layers of denial and repression. the drums are there, but he ignores them stubbornly.*