thoughtformed | [ACTION LOG: TEN'S DREAM].

Entry tags:

[ACTION LOG: TEN'S DREAM].

WHAT: An alien dreamscape.
WHO: Anyone is welcome!
WHEN: Portions of each night Thursday-Sunday.

On Gallifrey, halfway up a peak in the Mountains of Solace, its crown wreathed in snow and its foundations hidden by long burgundy grass, was the house of Lungbarrow. Like all the residences of the Time Lords, it was a wonder, but right now it lay empty, or nearly so, inhabited only by guilty visions of ghosts. Just past its front steps, gasping into the lawn and fiddling with the fastenings of his old and hated Academy uniform, sprawled a tall, lanky Gallifreyan with untidy brown hair, caught somewhere in hysteria, between laughter and sobbing.

"Horrible, beautiful planet," he murmured, clutching the grass by its roots with one hand, expecting it all to dissolve into the next moment. "You can't be here. And even if you were, I couldn't be here." He had woken in his old room -- so old it was almost forgotten -- and found himself already dressed for what he knew would be his first day at the Academy. The rest of the house had been less nostalgic, however, and he had escaped, as quick as he could, onto the south slope of the mountain, his favorite place to stare out and watch the dawn. Here, at least, he felt safe -- inside he could see the faces of those he had left here, or hear the gavel strike as judgment was rendered against him, or worse -- the terrible, world-altering throb of the Untempered Schism, as terrifying as it was transcendant.

Gallifrey. Gallifrey, and a second chance, even if it was plagued with reminders of centuries of failure -- maybe this time, he could do it right. There was an answer to that question, he thought, and he stared down the mountainside and waited for it to appear.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Soft foot steps through the grass nearby were the first signs he wasn't alone, as another impossible Gallifreyan joined him, taking a seat in the impossible grass and staring out over the expanse before them. Similarly dressed in a Prydon Academy uniform, and looking thoroughly exhausted, he leaned back on his hands, just sitting in silence for a while. He wasn't even sure which dream they were in anymore. Not that it really mattered. It seemed this was one thing, at least, they still had in common.

"It's almost as beautiful as I remember it." His reminiscent tone was tainted with a hint of fear, much like his own, more recent memories of the city. How it fell. How he fled like a scared little boy to the end of the Universe to escape it.

"More beautiful," the Doctor said, absently correcting him. "So much more beautiful. Right at this moment, in this spot, I didn't know any of the things that would ever make it ugly. Poor Gallifrey." He sighed, and then looked up, smiling slightly.

It had yet to occur to him that this was a dream, in the deceptive way that even perfectly obvious dreams sometimes have. He knew things were not as they normally were. Knew he could remember graduating from the school he had not yet attended. And he knew oh so many things about his oldest and best friend that chilled him... almost as much as the things he had seen within Lungbarrow.

The Master only wished he could be lulled into the idea that this was not a dream. The beating in his head drumming a misplaced soundtrack to their world. Still, there was something almost child-like and innocent about Gallifrey in this moment, that drew him back to simpler days of both their lives. Times he often found himself regretting had passed so quickly by. They seemed so much closer, now.

"I have to say, not the first place I expected to cross your path." He laid back in the grass, his arms behind his head, as if they were students again, escaping the academy for just a little while. "Certainly the more enjoyable choice, however." He stared up at the orange sky, letting memories of the old days flood back, gradually replacing his thoughts of more recent times.

"There," the Doctor said softly, as the sunrise shimmered its way up the slope and across the silver leaves of the trees, for all the world looking as though they caught fire, all at once. "That's what I came here for. Well." He gestured, offhandedly, at the Master. "That, and this. I miss this. More than I can say. Certainly more than I'd ever admit... if I were awake."

Ah. There it is. Bit of a shame. And it was silly of him to dress his old friend up in Prydon colors again. Never had much school pride, except on the first day itself. Oh well. His brain has certainly conjured up worse and more dangerous fancies than this amiable version of his old, dear nemesis.

That sunrise, so beautiful and breathtaking, captivated the Master for a while as he soaked in the memory of it. The feel of the warm light bathing the world around them. He could almost close his eyes and be back in the very moment. Strange how he took such sights for granted before it was gone. He turned slightly, watching his oldest, best friend and enemy with surprised interest, before turning his attention back to the sunrise.

"I miss it, too." He admitted, his voice distant, but honest. More honest than he would usually be about such a subject. "We were quite something different in these days. Look at us now." He trailed off on that thought, rubbing his temple gently. He wished, at least in his dreams, or as the case was, in the dreams of someone else, that bloody drumming would give it a rest.

"Not exactly Prydon's finest," the Doctor admitted wistfully. "Not that any of our class were, really. You, me, Ushas, Drax... Mortimus, Magnus, almost the whole Deca. Nosebung's about the only one who didn't break poor old Borusa's heart."

Memories of their days at the academy came flooding to the front of the Master's mind as if they had happened only yesterday. The Deca, the trouble they so willingly caused each day, like a handful of rogues. Borusa's scowl. An amused grin tugged pleasantly at his expression and he laughed, a more natural sound then it had been in a long time.

"Oh, but we were fantastic trouble. No one can claim we were not a memorable class."

"That's true. Probably did more to prepare the planet for unpredictable dangers than any other group of students in Time Lord history."

He paused a moment in thought.

"Of course, about a quarter of those later threats were us, too..."

"We kept them on their toes." He turned onto his side, watching his old friend. It felt strange to be talking to him like this, in their old academy uniforms.

"They brought just as many threats upon themselves as we did."

Jack wasn't sure how he'd ended up here in this amazingly spectacular landscape. Even through all of his planet and time-hopping, Jack was easily certain that he had never, ever encountered a planet like this one. Everything was so unreal that this had to be a dream. Red grass, sprawling mountainscapes... it couldn't have been real, and yet everything felt solid under his feet. Jack's eyes met the dawn, a truly incredible sight on an alien world. Oh how he missed these events, although usually when he experienced them, he'd had had a night's worth of alcohol still buzzing in his system and a very sleepy partner still fast asleep.

It didn't take long for Jack to realise he wasn't alone. The unmistakable sound of rapid dampened footfalls told Jack that someone was running his way. His brow knit together, as he tried to figure out just who it was that was approaching. But after a moment, there was no confusing that wild brown mop. "Doctor?" If he was here, maybe this was a dream. Awesome.

"Jack?" The Doctor asked, his tone both incredulous and distraught. "Jack," he said again, with more certainty. "You look... friendlier than I expected."

He very carefully did not step too close, still peering warily at Jack's face.

"It's me. Of course I'm friendly. You've often stopped me from becoming overly so," Jack said with a nod. He looked behind The Doctor for the reason he was running, and unable to see anything, he turned his attention back to the Time Lord. "Is something chasing you? You don't look so well." And then Jack's attention turned to the clothes that The Doctor was wearing. "Whatever it is, it must be after you for your incredibly adorable outfit."

"Yes, you would like the schoolboy uniform, wouldn't you?" The Doctor's tone was amused, but incredibly dry. After a moment he grinned, very briefly, and waggled his eyebrows. "Prydonian Academy. Finest of the finest, we were always told. I was much shorter when I actually wore this, but fortunately dreams are always the best of tailors."

He trailed off after a moment, and glanced back over his shoulder. "No," he said, absently. "I don't think anything is chasing me. Waiting, maybe, but not chasing. Small blessings."

Jack couldn't help the almost-giddy grin that came over his face. "Best tailors? I'll say." He gave an approving whistle as he appraised The Doctor's uniform, "I can't believe your cute little butt actually fits into those. Well, okay, maybe I can, but I was hoping it'd show more."

Flirting was over. For now. Jack winked at The Doctor and turned to look around. "So you know this place, then? Came to school here? Where are we?"

The Doctor gestured at the stately baroque manor stretched out behind them. "School? No. This is the Most Noble and Ancient House of Lungbarrow, in its most solid and literal manifestation."

Right. That wouldn't mean too much to Jack, though, would it? After a moment, he added, hesitantly, "This is the house where I grew up."

Jack's gaze followed The Doctor's indication with ease. Falling on the beautiful manor, Jack nodded his approval with a smile. "It's gorgeous. Not really at all the place I pictured you living. Tell me, is this bigger on the inside, too?"

It took Jack a moment to understand the complete significance of what he was witnessing, and turned to The Doctor with a rather surprised look on his face. "Wait... If you grew up here... Is this your family estate? Is... Lungbarrow your name?"

"Nice try! But no. Not any more than the Queen of England is Liz Windsor. Lungbarrow is the House and the house, but there are all sorts of lesser families and cross-cousins and what have you mixed in. To be honest, I've forgotten exactly how they all fit together."

He was patently not being honest -- except about the first part. That was not his name.

"As for the house, it goes deeply into the side of the mountain. So bigger on the inside, yes. But maybe not the way you mean."

To the trained eye, the Doctor was plainly still being evasive, glossing over something awkward or uncomfortable.

"darn. I thought I'd stumbled onto one of the greater mysteries of the universe. The name of The Doctor." Jack smiled at The Doctor, easily noting the tactics of clever subject-dodging.

"So then, all of that means that this must be your home planet.." Jack looked around with a new sense of appreciation for the scenery. "Unless this is all just a wacky dream I'm having. Still, never seen actually red grass before. Even in my dreams. But then, if I'm dreaming, that definitely explains the uniform."

"Yes," the Doctor said after a moment. "And yes, actually. Both. This is a dream, and this is Gallifrey, just exactly as I remember it, from when I was just a wee little schoolboy. I wore this uniform back when I was still in single digits, Jack."

"And it still looks good even into triple digits." Jack noted, pinching at the sleeve of his uniform.

He then turned his attention to the scenery once more, taking in its stunning beauty at his leisure and even bending down to pluck a few blades of the grass to examine. "It's beautiful. Much more beautiful than I'd imagined. Would I be too forward if I asked for a tour?"

"It's not that I wouldn't love to," the Doctor replied after a moment, and looks wistfully at his uniform. "Especially while I'm such a sterling representative of Time Lord culture. But Lungbarrow is... occupied, just now, Jack."

Jack's eyebrows lifted at this revelation. "Occupied?" he asked, taking a look back to the direction that The Doctor had hurried from. "The thing you were running from?"

"Not just one thing, Jack," the Doctor admits for a moment, and while the rest of him might look young, coltish and gangling, his eyes show his age. "My past. Everything I left behind or buried, everything... everything that died. This is my dream, unfortunately, and some part of my head decided that all of it belonged in one place." He gestures behind him, pointing his thumb loosely as the shadowed edifice of Lungbarrow.

"There."

"Ah, I see." It was something that Jack could identify with, for certain, the need to just keep pressing forward, to keep putting distance between himself and whatever the source of the pain was, only in Jack's case, he more often sought refuge in the arms of another rather than in the comfort of his spaceship and the thrill of adventure. Jack didn't have to know the whole story to see the deep sorrow in The Doctor's eyes. The weight of the conversation, however, could not keep a small smile from rising to Jack's lips. He pat The Doctor on the shoulder and tugged him away from the manor. "Well if it's all contained in one place, then it should be easy to avoid, right? I'm sure there's plenty more to see."

"Absolutely!" The moment that it become clear he can put his back to Lungbarrow and continue steadfastly ignoring its ghosts, the Doctor's characteristic daffy cheer returns full force. "Quite a lot of terribly pretentious architecture, of course, but apart from that..." He sighs, deeply, and glances back at the house again. When he looks back to Jack, there's a measure of peace in his gaze that was not there before.

"It's a wonderful world, Jack," he says simply. "Let me show it to you."

Jack could say in no uncertain terms that he liked this Doctor a lot better than the worrisome one that had been there just moments before. This one was a lot more fun for him to play with, and there was a little something almost romantic in the way that The Doctor offered to show him his world. He half expected a magic carpet.

Making an overly dramatic sweep of his arm outward, Jack bent into a bow and smiled up at The Doctor affectionately. "It would be my honour. After you, good Doctor."

Edited 2011-08-11 06:39 (UTC)

The nostalgic scene is interrupted by the faint, almost inaudible sound of dragging chains. The pitch is always the same, quiet and without echo, rhythmic and disturbing. As far as who or what is causing the sound, there's no hint or figure in the distance, but the chains chime with perfect time. The sound does not come closer, but it does not fade. There is the cold feeling of loneliness that is distinctly different from the chill of the snow.

That was not a very Gallifreyan sound, though it seemed familiar to the Doctor -- very familiar, in fact. He looked around, cautiously, then reached down to retrieve his sonic screwdriver... only to find that, in his present school uniform, it was not present. Of course. Of course it wouldn't be. Dreams were like that.

"Lovely morning for some music," he said, projecting his voice and waiting for a reply.

Behind him is a figure cloaked in black, floating inches above the ground. It makes no noise. Instead it floats soundlessly there, as if it had become part of the scenery of the dream. Maybe it was always there in some form, waiting. It stares at him with hollow eyes, if you could say that it could stare at all.

Not what he expected.

"Hel-lo," he says, slowly, fumbling for his brainy specs (which are there, irrationally, even though his screwdriver isn't), and staring at his alarming visitor over their rims. "Out for a morning stroll?"

The creature doesn't give a reply, instead it raises its hand to signify battle. It's difficult to say if this has happened before to others in this dream, or maybe on this planet. It could be a memory, or perhaps something made up by two minds meeting.

The snow around them begins to crack, the rock beginning to threaten to give way.

"Hang on!" The Doctor cries indignantly, hopping back a few steps and holding up his hands. "Now just wait a minute! There's no need for that! I know who and what you are -- we've met more than once -- and you should know by now that you're not going to be able to do anything with me without having a bit of a chat first! Right?"

Well, he thinks. Certainly worth a try, at any rate.

If anything, it buys the Doctor some time. If it were anywhere but a dream, Death would not hesitate—or perhaps, if Death was merely Death and nothing else. The scythe held high, it pauses, an eerie silence surrounding the two of them. For now, it's as if he's offering him the time to speak.

"Look around," the Doctor offers. "Look at this world. This is Gallifrey. Of all the planets in the universe, not many can be said to be more dead and gone than Gallifrey is. Everything on this world, everything that belongs on it, you've long ago harvested and dragged off. Either I belong here, and there's no point in collecting me another time... or I don't, and you might be making a mistake you can't afford to make when you swing that scythe."

The voice that begins to speak is not low and menacing as would be expected, instead it's light an gentle. Somehow familiar.

If there is one thing that is certain, it is that everything that lives must die. Death does not take, Death arrives. It is time, and then, it was time. It has nothing to do with belonging, but realizing the inevitable. There are no mistakes, Doctor. Cast away your grief and accept the end that has befallen this planet. If you do not, the consequences you sow will be catastrophic.

And the scythe swings, the snow peak beginning to chip away. The pieces that fall upward are large and unnatural, they coil upward towards the sky, twisting like they're writing in their last moments before turning to ash. As the landscape begins to disappear, there's no where to go but the depth of the darkness below.

The Doctor took another step back in alarm, and his eyes fixed on the disintegrating landscape, but a whisper of a smile twitched at his mouth.

"In that case, maybe there's a friend of mine you ought to meet..."

Everything fades, and darkness sets in.

For a while, it's quiet.

As soon as John realized he could leave his own dream, he was off like a shot. Dreams are like someone's diary, so he's not too keen on staying for long — quick glimpses of the different worlds are all he wants. The Land of Wind and Shade is fun and all, but who knows what other awesome worlds could be out there!

When he bursts through to Gallifrey, he comes to a full stop. The sunrise is enchanting, and he stares at it for a few minutes before bothering to look down. "Hi, Doctor!" John shouts before descending. He hovers a few feet off the ground and looks back at the sky again before turning his bright, slightly stupid smile back to the man. "Is this your planet? It's so cool looking!"

"John!" The Doctor called back, in cheerful acknowledgment -- only a little forced. By now he had realized that this was not an ordinary dream, and while his feelings were mixed on that... well. Company seemed to keep the ghosts away. Mostly.

"Yes, this is Gallifrey. Shining World of the Seven Systems, they used to call it. And this is how it looked at its best. Second-best day of my young life, this was."

John lands then and plunks down next to the Doctor on the soft grass, smiling from ear to ear. He caught glances of some scarier dreams on his way here, but this one seems peaceful. He could stay for a while.

"It's so nice here. Thank you for letting me visit," the boy says, pushing the god tier hood off his head. John takes the sight in for a few more moments before turning to the Doctor with quizzical innocence written all over his face. "Second best?"

Edited 2011-08-06 12:11 (UTC)

"Oh yes," the Doctor tells him. "My first day of school, a few years younger than you are today, but not much. I was so excited to get away from home and really see that big, wide, wonderful, beautiful world that's stretched out below us."

A smile twitches at his lips. "The very best day was just the same," he explains, "even if it was quite a while later. Only instead of going down to explore the universe..." He points up at the brightening sky, the last visible stars fading in the dawn. "I was going up."

As the Doctor points to the sky, John lays flat on the grass and stares up at it. He hums in acknowledgement, but loses himself for a while — minutes, hours, dream time is so fluid he can never be sure — staring at the sky. It's odd, he knows next to nothing about the Doctor's life and this planet, but somehow he still feels sentimental.

"I like that you have traveled all over the place, but both of your favorite memories are on your home planet." It's one of those things John says that implies maybe he's seen too much of the world for his thirteen years. There is no bitterness or weariness in his voice, just sincere appreciation for ties to home. He turns his head to look around before asking, "Do you have family here?"

"Family?" The Doctor... stilled, his expressions flattening just a little.

"No. Not here. Not anymore."

The sights of this planet took her breath away. Jenny had been lost in this dream for quite some time now, in no hurry to leave. Everything she saw was so breathtakingly beautiful and a small piece of her wanted to stay there forever. The red grass beneath her feet swayed gently in time with silver leaves on the trees. The bright, orange sky felt warm and welcoming, like returning somewhere she had been away from for so long. It was impossible though. She had never been here before.

When her awe-filled wanderings finally led her to where her father was sprawled, it seemed the most natural thing in the Universe to stretch out in the grass next to him and watch the sunrise. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her life.

"This must be the most beautiful planet in the Universe." Her voice came out a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the world around them. In the back of her mind it felt like an impossible place, but she wanted to stay there as long as she could and soak it all in.

"Nah," his tone is playful. "In more than a hundred years of kicking around the galaxy, I've seen... five or six prettier worlds."

He wonders, but does not yet ask, if some part of her knows what world this is. Can she feel it? The distant, unsettling, captivating power of the Untempered Schism? The way that time itself cradles the world like a child? That affinity, resonating in her bones, that calls this planet unmistakeably, irreplaceably home?

For that matter, did he ever truly feel such a thing, outside moments of homesick nostalgia, most of them coming after the planet was lost forever?

"Well, I think it's brilliant. What planet is this? It feels-" Jenny trailed off. She wasn't sure what exactly it felt like, really. Just that she felt a conflicting mix of comfortable and restless. Maybe that was just her father's presence. "I like it here."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ACTION LOG: TEN'S DREAM].

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject