InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I've given it some thought..."

The Doctor (fromgallifrey) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-21 19:29:00

Entry tags:

!complete, day 12, location: barn, remy lebeau, the doctor (ten)

Who: The Doctor and Remy LeBeau
What: Friendly fight
When: Day 12: 8AM
Where: Forest, nearest landmark, the Barn
Rating: PG

Status: Complete

The Doctor hadn't slept well. The night before he knew was leading into an even numbered day; an experiment day. It was sad that his mind kept on it like that; kept turning with the desire to anticipate and thwart a foe he could not see. Perhaps that was why the Doctor had such a difficult time pushing his eyes open. He didn't want to wake and see his friends snatched up for someone's trivial idea of a game. He blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. What was once the barn was still cluttered with musty couches and spread out among them were the people he'd come to call friends. Each were dozing quietly.

The Doctor saw his opportunity and he made good on it. Pulling on his trainers and slipping out the door he was headed out into the woods. He hadn't forgotten the plans he'd made for the people in charge. He was going to make good on them. Today. Twigs and brush crumpled beneath him as the Doctor moved quietly through the trees. He didn't want to take the road. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He had a singular focus and not one iota of it included anyone else within the glass bubble. Well, unless that person happened to be the Insider.

A not so quiet sigh escaped the Doctor. The silence was good company in the sense it didn't make his head hurt any more though also bad as it didn't do anything to still his mind. Wheels kept turning at a furious pace. He needed to go to work on things other than barns. He needed to stop being so attached to the people here, even Jack and Sarah Jane perhaps, and do whatever needed to be done. Would there be collateral damage? How about what he'd do to that 'Insider' when he managed to find them? For a man who didn't like battles or wars or violence the Doctor was finding himself sliding into the darker parts of his mind where things didn't reside in the moral - where they just needed to be done.

Today he would start with the Post Office, he would look through the nooks and crannies there, and then he and his torch would head down into the tunnels where he would find the Insider. He would find the insider and he would find out everything that they knew. He would then continue his search for those working with the insider and force them to return everyone. Following that he would destroy the town and it's bubble so that it would never be used again. Finally, he would deposit those behind it all in a cell on Rigaula Seven where they would never age, never know freedom, and never have any hope for rescue. It was those thoughts that kept cycling through the Time Lord's head. Running through on loop again and again. It was like a mantra. Insider, puppeteers, escape, prison. Those same thoughts caused the distant look in the Doctor's eye and the setting of his jaw. He would have his way.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-06-21 07:13 pm UTC (link)

That was exactly what the Cajun was doing. He was holding on, tying down, locking up -- and he was threatening to swallow the key. Because that, in the end, was what freedom was. To be truly free, you had to be truly alone. The Doctor coveted his freedom more than anything else, and at the same time he loathed his being alone. It was a thin, sharp line to walk, but the Doctor had managed it for a long time. Maybe that was really why he left everyone, because he couldn't be free if he wasn't alone. Gambit, though, wasn't letting the Doctor make that choice right now, wasn't letting him choose whether he wanted his freedom, or wanted to rid himself of his loneliness, because he was relatively sure -- no, he was positive -- that the Doctor would choose freedom, and to be alone. As much as the loneliness was hated, it was also needed. He'd been alone so long that he didn't know any other way to be. Luckily, the Cajun hadn't been alone that long, and still remembered what it was like to be held, touched, needed-- wanted. And he wasn't going to give up that chance now that he had it so near.

Those clutching hands were such a stark contrast to the grumbled word that Remy didn't pay attention to it at all, like it had only been an unrelated noise on the wind. The Doctor's mind and heart were fighting and the Cajun had ringside seats, and a tip on who the winner would be. He'd placed his bets and was primed to win big. He wasn't going to stop. Not now, not later, not any time soon. You were caught, little mouse, and the cat was going to keep you, and at the moment, it seemed like there was nothing to be done about it.

"LeBeau, 'das my las' name. Remy Etienne LeBeau. Fittin', non? So han'some as I am." It was a light tease in the middle of their silent battle. His hands tightened in the jacket wrapped around him, crossing his arms slightly in the back to force his body in closer, feet shuffling forward a little, as his head turned, bringing their foreheads away from one another, only to press temples together so the Cajun could whisper nearer to the Doctor's ear in that thick, drawling accent. "Ain' gon' leave. Gon' stan' here all day an' nigh'. An' even when we go back t'workin', still gon' be here." Figuratively, of course. He was insisting that even when they broke apart, he'd be right up against the Doctor, and that he wasn't going anywhere. "Ain' had no one see me in a lon' time, Docteur. I ain' givin' you up. An' I figh' any o' 'dem frien's o' yours for you. An' I figh' you for you." Like he was doing right now. "An' I don' lose. I play dir'y."

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fromgallifrey
2009-06-21 07:14 pm UTC (link)

The reason that the Doctor held so tight to his freedom was that the moment he stopped moving he was reminding that nothing else ever truly stopped. Time stood still for no man, save a Time Lord. The earth spun, stars collided and people grew old and they died. They died quickly in his minds eye. Too quickly.

The Doctor, of course, could always choose. There wasn't a force powerful enough in the cosmos to make him do something that he really, really didn't want to do. It was a blessing and a curse as evidenced by the very real war raging between the Doctor and the cat-like Cajun. The Cajun who forced and bent and jammed. The Cajun who broke things. Remy LeBeau was breaking things now and he probably didn't even realize it.

"You never stop," the Timelord heaved as the mutant wedged in against him. Again that feeling of being one appendage as he tried to shift away and out. Or, at least his head throught he was trying. His head wanted him to try. To fight and rage and win. To push this all off and away and go skulking into the tunnels because that was where he belonged. Alone in the dark.

"You won't leave because you don't know any better," the Time Lord spat in a fierce whisper. He'd covered up the vulnerability in those words and shoved them back under the rug. He was being toyed with, reined in, and devoured.

"Please." He didn't even know what he was asking for at this point. Was he trying to get the Cajun to stop still. Was he trying to get him to continue on? What was the Doctor playing at? He'd let his guard down a moment, in a rich bout with curiousity and he'd left himself wide open to have his world destroyed. What remained quite certain is that the Time Lord was holding tight. Too tight.

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