( Red smirks at him as he starts to go into the details of the meaning of life - deep and vast and well, she's thought about it some given now she has had a life for the last couple of decades, but - It's still fun to hear all his theories about it all, because he's certainly been thinking about it longer. )
I was joking.
( But her smirk slips into a smile that's more fond. )
So yeah, tabling the interpretive dance for later. Cause there's shit to do here like finding worms. Vital. ( She's joking, making a face. ) ... and so's all the rest of it. You're always focused on helping, huh? ( Excited about it even. )
[ Of course she was joking. Absolutely. He totally, definitely, completely knew that. And he tosses a fond smirk her way in return. ]
It's what I do, what I've always done. Suppose I could be a... [ He pulls a face, a purposefully exaggerated face, halfway between a grimace and an expression like he's just eaten something sour. ] ...a blob of sorts. Sticky and rolly and a sickly grey color, an absolute mess of a blob. Lazing about, prattling on about absolute rubbish while everyone else is toiling towards a solution. Hah! Hardly. Not the sort. But you know that already.
[ He holds up his index finger then, for good measure. Or something. It's all part of the point he is, eventually, coming to. ]
I'd argue everyone here is focused on helping in one way or another. Some just take the long way 'round.
[ Retracting the index finger now in favor of clapping his hands together in a burst of energy. Not excitement, no, nothing like that, but an ease with the unknown that most certainly sets him apart from others and always has. ]
What assignment have they given you, and should we adopt codenames?
Yeaaah, really cannot visualize you as a blob of any kind. ( Red makes a face at the very attempt to visualize this. He is much too active, nonstop energy really for any of that. ) And I don't know about everyone, but we are all here in the same boat - so to speak.
( Some people only want to get back home, and she can't blame them even if she doesn't feel the same. Would she ever? But especially not there at the end - least she's got a better sense of herself now, better sense of her powers too. )
Codenames? Always. But as for my assignment, you're in luck - I've been given the prestigious assignment of soil collector for feeding and fostering good worms so. Seems like our assignments go hand-in-hand here.
( Cause this is obviously the most important part of all of what they're doing here... or something. ) We can always pretend to do our assignments and then fuck off to explore under the guise of worm/soil finding.
[ With his vivid and overactive imagination, he's now very briefly conjuring a visualization of a disembodied and rather unctuous blobby sort of creature; by turns, horrific and adorable. Such is his mind! ]
We are that. [ And he thinks well of everyone, even if they don't want to help so much as just get home. They have a right to it. ] At times, even literally in the same boat. Or train. Caravan. Dragon. I do wonder what other modes of transportation await us!
Now, codenames— are we thinking something complex and fantastical like...Wise Supernova or short and simple like Cobra? Give it some thought while we work.
[ Along with their Very Important Jobs, codenames are clearly essential, too! He wouldn't have it any other way. ]
Work, I mean. And then do what your not-to-be-repeated-by-me vernacular suggested and we shamble off to explore. Apart from the memories — unsettling as that is — time's gone wrong. They mentioned that, I know, but I feel it here, in a way I haven't before.
Oh, I'm doing all kinds of thinking about the potential.
( Codenames are not something that can be thought of all willy-nilly like after all, but Red had... kind of forgot (well, not forgot? That's not really the right word. She wasn't allowed to remember then lived for awhile then came back so the memories are distant, but there)- She'd forgotten how fun he could make the most mundane of things.
Red salutes him and then starts walking backwards toward where she believes there's soil... and so worms? Her gaze lifts to look at him though as she frowns with concern. )
Never felt it like this before? ( He is a Time Lord with a great deal of experience, time under his belt so it means something that this feels weird and off to him in a new way. )
[ He genuinely believes she's giving it due thought, which is perfect, and clearly why they've always meshed. Despite the way she's changed and grown, the things she's seen and done in her time away — things he still wants to know, all of it that she's willing to tell — it's easy to fall into a rhythm that's been theirs from the start.
The salute gets a brief smirk from him, and then her question prompts a shift in his eyes, a bit more serious. ]
It's the first time since we've been here, and I mean from the very beginning, that I've felt the abnormal movement of time. The way it's been tampered with, manipulated like a spider tugging its web. I can see it, the outline of it, the shape of things gone astray. Bit like — [ Brief pause, and then — ]
Say you wear glasses to see and you take the glasses off and everything's blurry, fuzzy, sideways and backwards and all wrong. That's Yancai. But it won't stay that way, not if I have anything to say about it. And I do have a lot to say, generally, about everything.
( Red nods following that response. It is reassuring to know this isn't completely out of the wheelhouse of something he has felt before. Given all his experience with time in general (being a Time Lord), she might be more worried then. )
That's a pretty clear description, but must mean it's hard to really settle here with everything seeming so off all the time. Not that you are much for settling in general.
( Then she smirks, and there's fondness in it. ) ...or for having little to say. Ever since we met it was always the opposite, which was good. Needed that for the big Necromancer con we had to do then. ( Seems like several lifetimes ago even if she knows that's not the case. )
Oh, we were good at that, weren't we? The duo, from the start.
[ They'd only just gotten here and she was his first friend. That will always mean something, always be important. He's never taken his friends lightly, though, and that's been his trouble all along. Too close, too attached, and then he remembers they're all too human. Heartbreakingly so. But Red isn't, and she's understood those deeper parts that are hard to talk about, hard to feel. It's an understanding that's immeasurable, at least in his mind. ]
And I don't settle, no, there's too much to do. Speaking of— suppose we could start looking by the lake, if it will tell us anything. Well, it'll do a bit of talking, all things do, just maybe not what we want or need right now.
Yeah. That's what we call a talented duo. ( from the start, back when she was still navigating the world and living and humanity in a brand new way. Red's more used to it all now, and so it's almost strange to think back on it, but it's a fond memory - for all the emotions that she was unaccustomed to swarming her at once.
He was there to help see her through it, to talk about everything afterwards. She hasn't forgotten. )
You're right. That's where these uh- infamous witches are, right? The ladies of the lake. Good a place as any to start. The village blames them for a lot. Think that's just easier for people sometimes.
Easier to blame, of course, it always is. It's this group, that person, them, or it's a curse and we're stuck in it, it's all gone wrong, it'll never go right, we're doomed.
[ Ahem. Excuse him. And he follows that with a brief, cheeky grin before he leans in to try tapping her nose - if she'll allow. ]
We know better, though.
It's a good story. And some stories have a touch of truth, it's just a matter of sorting it out. Speaking of stories!
[ He'll just start walking towards the shore of the lake now, do keep up, Red. ]
Tell me more about yours. What else happened when you went back. There's load to tell and we have time.
[ See what he did there. Clever segue? Or not, in this case? ]
( Red does allow with a slight smirk. Of course they know better - not being human helps with that a great deal. She's keeping up pretty well though - bursts of speed through Cerberus, and she found some boots for traversing through the difficult terrain too.
She snorts quiet laughter at the segue there. )
Real smooth, Doc.
( But she guesses she owes him after that whole truth exchange thing they did in the train. They were interrupted before they could go much further. )
We gonna do an exchange like before?
I know it's my turn. ( And she'll pay up regardless for at least that much. )
[ He's always pleased when people keep pace with him and he should know by now to expect nothing less from Red. But he's also glad she's allowed the segue because there's more to say, more to tell, more for him to know. So much more that he wants to know, to be sure of her life and what she went back to. ]
Smooth! I'll take it. Polished off the sharp edges a few centuries ago.
[ Well, perhaps. ]
An exchange, yes, just like before. [ Even if it wasn't the most comfortable conversation, he owes her whatever she wants to know if he wants the truth from her in return. ]
( There is a pause following the question - right with a bang like the Doctor is prone to do. All of it is complicated, of course, because nothing can ever be simple or straightforward. She walks alongside him, trying to figure out how to answer while being honest and- )
I don't know.
( That's the most truthful answer. )
When I showed up here the first time, it was after escaping the Underworld - a feat I didn't think would be possible. I lived in reality outside of the Underworld for awhile, but Hades was always chomping at my heels.
( Especially at the end, those last few moments. )
Turns out I had a whole new purpose in the real world. ( She's not sure if she should say the rest, if she should detail what happened before this place came into view again. Honesty, right. ) ...he found me right before I came back here. I was getting dragged down. So... yeah. I don't know.
[ Ah, that space between the question and answer, the moment of deciding how much to share, what to share, how to share certain details at all when it might be incredibly complicated. He'd give her all the time she needed to answer, too, he wouldn't push. There's plenty enough to distract him with while they talk as it is, and he's not going anywhere. In so many ways, he's incredibly impatient, while for other things, he could wait as long as needed.
They reach a curve in the shore to the lake and he briefly stops walking, looking at her with a soft and gentle expression before his gaze turns out to the water as she continues.
He can almost feel it coming, what she's about to say next, and his hearts do an aching flipping thing that always comes with the hard things, the things that hurt the ones he cares for most. He knows it's there and then the pause, the way she seems to hesitate, and as his right arm dangles at his side, he runs the pad of his thumb across the tip of his middle finger, an idle movement while he waits, and then there are those words again — I don't know.
Three words he's admitted to himself countless times before, yet now feel utterly agonizing and dreadful. She should know, she shouldn't have to be here without knowing (though he's grateful she is here, and far from Hades). But those are the things he can't control, much as he wants to. He can't wave his hand and make it all magically better, and he's limited without his TARDIS, without an inkling — truly — of what comes next after Akhuras. He knows pieces of his fate and Red knows much of her own, but the Doctor also knows enough about time and the universe to understand that just by being here as long as they have been, there are ripples that can't be altered, fates have shifted, parallel universes have splintered off beyond their knowing.
He can't control that instant, the moment she was dragged down before she came back here, but there's so much — oh, there's still so much he can and he will, and he won't accept otherwise.
A slightly darker expression tints his eyes as he looks back to Red, his jaw tensing. ]
You were getting dragged down, and I don't know what that means for you immediately after and I don't know what happens to us here tomorrow or the day after, but I know this — if we're separated again and you leave or I leave, I won't forget you. I can't. The shape of people, the memory of our time, it won't go away. I'll remember and I'll come for you. I'll find you, Red. The universe is too small for Hades to hide from me.
[ Of course, the universe is far from small, but it's practically tiny when the Doctor is angry. What he wouldn't do for his dearest friends. ]
( Red was expecting this. How could she not? She knows his aura. She clocked it when they first met in all its beautiful complexities, and even now, she sees the sharp red of the lava within it boil up, bubble, threaten to burn and devour whatever it wishes to touch. He has always been more - complex layers of cozy warmth and sheer destruction, and naturally the news she has to share would ignite it even if that is not why she shares what she shares. It's not why she told him.
She is ancient too is the thing - old as the Underworld, created and carved and made to be pet, guard dog, creature with teeth and claws and no choice of their own.
She knows what Hades is - primordial, unflinching, unmerciful.
She knows what the Doctor is. She sees how he has fought, how he has lost, and she does not need any promises, but he gives them anyway. And how terrible would it be to say she doesn't believe them? She's been sent back, every being wiped from her mind, and he's going to die himself. He is going to die. She hasn't forgotten that either.
And she doesn't need him to save her. She doesn't need to be saved - two decades out in the world, out in life, out living. What a beautiful time it was. She doesn't even need the comfort. She just- She needed someone else to know, someone else to carry it like she carries his own death in her heart, heavy and terrible and wrong. Something she'd rail against with her whole heart if she had the chance. But the world is filled with wrong.
She reaches out, fingers hooking on to his own, hand wrapping around his. ♪ )
It's okay. ( The words are low like a whisper, hoarse with tears in her eyes. ) It's okay.
( She's come to grips with it - the dragging, the ending. Her death is not for him to carry, to feel responsible for stopping. )
But if you could remember me like I wish I could remember you that's- that's everything. ( Her eyes burn with anger at the wrongness of forgetting, family, friends, loved ones- her hand tightens over his. ) And I'm sure as fuck not going toward any beacons ever again unless I'm dragged there, okay?
[ Ideally, of course, things turn out far differently when they've fixed everything here. People go home if they want to, or they stay here, and the Doctor helps everyone get where they most want to be going when he's reunited with his TARDIS. Nothing matters more to him than the people here being safe and for their party of wayward travelers, the ones he loves most, to be happy and okay. He needs them all to be okay.
And then she says it — It's okay. She reaches for him, and he looks down to study their intertwined hands as though there were something miraculous about it. Perhaps there is. Whatever mechanism brought them all here, they are all here together, at this exact moment in this precise instant of time, for a purpose. They may leave and they may not remember and he loathes the thought of it all, but life keeps going and going. And Red's hand is bigger than he remembers because she grew, she changed, she lived. There was some good in that life, he can see it in her eyes. The good and the bad, the turning and the great unknowing and beauty of life with all its pain and joy alike. She had that, she got to have that, and he's grateful. It's hard to let go of the thought that Hades might steal it all away from her, but her words echo again — it's okay.
It's not, it's not, it's not, he wants to insist otherwise. He can't relinquish the idea of hope, he can't let go. But here, they are two ancient creatures tethered together, connected by what they understand about each other, and learning as they go. If you could remember — he could, he has to believe. And maybe that's enough for now.
Sometimes, all they really get in the end is time. Moments, like this one. Something he's still trying to grasp and learn to accept because nothing else is guaranteed.
He squeezes her hand tightly, grateful for the anchor. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I was joking.
( But her smirk slips into a smile that's more fond. )
So yeah, tabling the interpretive dance for later. Cause there's shit to do here like finding worms. Vital. ( She's joking, making a face. ) ... and so's all the rest of it. You're always focused on helping, huh? ( Excited about it even. )
no subject
It's what I do, what I've always done. Suppose I could be a... [ He pulls a face, a purposefully exaggerated face, halfway between a grimace and an expression like he's just eaten something sour. ] ...a blob of sorts. Sticky and rolly and a sickly grey color, an absolute mess of a blob. Lazing about, prattling on about absolute rubbish while everyone else is toiling towards a solution. Hah! Hardly. Not the sort. But you know that already.
[ He holds up his index finger then, for good measure. Or something. It's all part of the point he is, eventually, coming to. ]
I'd argue everyone here is focused on helping in one way or another. Some just take the long way 'round.
[ Retracting the index finger now in favor of clapping his hands together in a burst of energy. Not excitement, no, nothing like that, but an ease with the unknown that most certainly sets him apart from others and always has. ]
What assignment have they given you, and should we adopt codenames?
no subject
( Some people only want to get back home, and she can't blame them even if she doesn't feel the same. Would she ever? But especially not there at the end - least she's got a better sense of herself now, better sense of her powers too. )
Codenames? Always. But as for my assignment, you're in luck - I've been given the prestigious assignment of soil collector for feeding and fostering good worms so. Seems like our assignments go hand-in-hand here.
( Cause this is obviously the most important part of all of what they're doing here... or something. ) We can always pretend to do our assignments and then fuck off to explore under the guise of worm/soil finding.
no subject
We are that. [ And he thinks well of everyone, even if they don't want to help so much as just get home. They have a right to it. ] At times, even literally in the same boat. Or train. Caravan. Dragon. I do wonder what other modes of transportation await us!
Now, codenames— are we thinking something complex and fantastical like...Wise Supernova or short and simple like Cobra? Give it some thought while we work.
[ Along with their Very Important Jobs, codenames are clearly essential, too! He wouldn't have it any other way. ]
Work, I mean. And then do what your not-to-be-repeated-by-me vernacular suggested and we shamble off to explore. Apart from the memories — unsettling as that is — time's gone wrong. They mentioned that, I know, but I feel it here, in a way I haven't before.
no subject
( Codenames are not something that can be thought of all willy-nilly like after all, but Red had... kind of forgot (well, not forgot? That's not really the right word. She wasn't allowed to remember then lived for awhile then came back so the memories are distant, but there)- She'd forgotten how fun he could make the most mundane of things.
Red salutes him and then starts walking backwards toward where she believes there's soil... and so worms? Her gaze lifts to look at him though as she frowns with concern. )
Never felt it like this before? ( He is a Time Lord with a great deal of experience, time under his belt so it means something that this feels weird and off to him in a new way. )
What's it feel like?
no subject
The salute gets a brief smirk from him, and then her question prompts a shift in his eyes, a bit more serious. ]
It's the first time since we've been here, and I mean from the very beginning, that I've felt the abnormal movement of time. The way it's been tampered with, manipulated like a spider tugging its web. I can see it, the outline of it, the shape of things gone astray. Bit like — [ Brief pause, and then — ]
Say you wear glasses to see and you take the glasses off and everything's blurry, fuzzy, sideways and backwards and all wrong. That's Yancai. But it won't stay that way, not if I have anything to say about it. And I do have a lot to say, generally, about everything.
no subject
That's a pretty clear description, but must mean it's hard to really settle here with everything seeming so off all the time. Not that you are much for settling in general.
( Then she smirks, and there's fondness in it. ) ...or for having little to say. Ever since we met it was always the opposite, which was good. Needed that for the big Necromancer con we had to do then. ( Seems like several lifetimes ago even if she knows that's not the case. )
no subject
[ They'd only just gotten here and she was his first friend. That will always mean something, always be important. He's never taken his friends lightly, though, and that's been his trouble all along. Too close, too attached, and then he remembers they're all too human. Heartbreakingly so. But Red isn't, and she's understood those deeper parts that are hard to talk about, hard to feel. It's an understanding that's immeasurable, at least in his mind. ]
And I don't settle, no, there's too much to do. Speaking of— suppose we could start looking by the lake, if it will tell us anything. Well, it'll do a bit of talking, all things do, just maybe not what we want or need right now.
no subject
He was there to help see her through it, to talk about everything afterwards. She hasn't forgotten. )
You're right. That's where these uh- infamous witches are, right? The ladies of the lake. Good a place as any to start. The village blames them for a lot. Think that's just easier for people sometimes.
( To have someone to blame. )
no subject
[ Ahem. Excuse him. And he follows that with a brief, cheeky grin before he leans in to try tapping her nose - if she'll allow. ]
We know better, though.
It's a good story. And some stories have a touch of truth, it's just a matter of sorting it out. Speaking of stories!
[ He'll just start walking towards the shore of the lake now, do keep up, Red. ]
Tell me more about yours. What else happened when you went back. There's load to tell and we have time.
[ See what he did there. Clever segue? Or not, in this case? ]
no subject
She snorts quiet laughter at the segue there. )
Real smooth, Doc.
( But she guesses she owes him after that whole truth exchange thing they did in the train. They were interrupted before they could go much further. )
We gonna do an exchange like before?
I know it's my turn. ( And she'll pay up regardless for at least that much. )
no subject
Smooth! I'll take it. Polished off the sharp edges a few centuries ago.
[ Well, perhaps. ]
An exchange, yes, just like before. [ Even if it wasn't the most comfortable conversation, he owes her whatever she wants to know if he wants the truth from her in return. ]
When you made it back, were you free?
[ Start back off with a bang. Of course. ]
no subject
I don't know.
( That's the most truthful answer. )
When I showed up here the first time, it was after escaping the Underworld - a feat I didn't think would be possible. I lived in reality outside of the Underworld for awhile, but Hades was always chomping at my heels.
( Especially at the end, those last few moments. )
Turns out I had a whole new purpose in the real world. ( She's not sure if she should say the rest, if she should detail what happened before this place came into view again. Honesty, right. ) ...he found me right before I came back here. I was getting dragged down. So... yeah. I don't know.
no subject
They reach a curve in the shore to the lake and he briefly stops walking, looking at her with a soft and gentle expression before his gaze turns out to the water as she continues.
He can almost feel it coming, what she's about to say next, and his hearts do an aching flipping thing that always comes with the hard things, the things that hurt the ones he cares for most. He knows it's there and then the pause, the way she seems to hesitate, and as his right arm dangles at his side, he runs the pad of his thumb across the tip of his middle finger, an idle movement while he waits, and then there are those words again — I don't know.
Three words he's admitted to himself countless times before, yet now feel utterly agonizing and dreadful. She should know, she shouldn't have to be here without knowing (though he's grateful she is here, and far from Hades). But those are the things he can't control, much as he wants to. He can't wave his hand and make it all magically better, and he's limited without his TARDIS, without an inkling — truly — of what comes next after Akhuras. He knows pieces of his fate and Red knows much of her own, but the Doctor also knows enough about time and the universe to understand that just by being here as long as they have been, there are ripples that can't be altered, fates have shifted, parallel universes have splintered off beyond their knowing.
He can't control that instant, the moment she was dragged down before she came back here, but there's so much — oh, there's still so much he can and he will, and he won't accept otherwise.
A slightly darker expression tints his eyes as he looks back to Red, his jaw tensing. ]
You were getting dragged down, and I don't know what that means for you immediately after and I don't know what happens to us here tomorrow or the day after, but I know this — if we're separated again and you leave or I leave, I won't forget you. I can't. The shape of people, the memory of our time, it won't go away. I'll remember and I'll come for you. I'll find you, Red. The universe is too small for Hades to hide from me.
[ Of course, the universe is far from small, but it's practically tiny when the Doctor is angry. What he wouldn't do for his dearest friends. ]
no subject
She is ancient too is the thing - old as the Underworld, created and carved and made to be pet, guard dog, creature with teeth and claws and no choice of their own.
She knows what Hades is - primordial, unflinching, unmerciful.
She knows what the Doctor is. She sees how he has fought, how he has lost, and she does not need any promises, but he gives them anyway. And how terrible would it be to say she doesn't believe them? She's been sent back, every being wiped from her mind, and he's going to die himself. He is going to die. She hasn't forgotten that either.
And she doesn't need him to save her. She doesn't need to be saved - two decades out in the world, out in life, out living. What a beautiful time it was. She doesn't even need the comfort. She just- She needed someone else to know, someone else to carry it like she carries his own death in her heart, heavy and terrible and wrong. Something she'd rail against with her whole heart if she had the chance. But the world is filled with wrong.
She reaches out, fingers hooking on to his own, hand wrapping around his. ♪ )
It's okay. ( The words are low like a whisper, hoarse with tears in her eyes. ) It's okay.
( She's come to grips with it - the dragging, the ending. Her death is not for him to carry, to feel responsible for stopping. )
But if you could remember me like I wish I could remember you that's- that's everything. ( Her eyes burn with anger at the wrongness of forgetting, family, friends, loved ones- her hand tightens over his. ) And I'm sure as fuck not going toward any beacons ever again unless I'm dragged there, okay?
no subject
And then she says it — It's okay. She reaches for him, and he looks down to study their intertwined hands as though there were something miraculous about it. Perhaps there is. Whatever mechanism brought them all here, they are all here together, at this exact moment in this precise instant of time, for a purpose. They may leave and they may not remember and he loathes the thought of it all, but life keeps going and going. And Red's hand is bigger than he remembers because she grew, she changed, she lived. There was some good in that life, he can see it in her eyes. The good and the bad, the turning and the great unknowing and beauty of life with all its pain and joy alike. She had that, she got to have that, and he's grateful. It's hard to let go of the thought that Hades might steal it all away from her, but her words echo again — it's okay.
It's not, it's not, it's not, he wants to insist otherwise. He can't relinquish the idea of hope, he can't let go. But here, they are two ancient creatures tethered together, connected by what they understand about each other, and learning as they go. If you could remember — he could, he has to believe. And maybe that's enough for now.
Sometimes, all they really get in the end is time. Moments, like this one. Something he's still trying to grasp and learn to accept because nothing else is guaranteed.
He squeezes her hand tightly, grateful for the anchor. ]
I believe you.
[ That's for so many things. ]