InsaneJournal

Who: Eleven and Sexy
What: Two cool cats doing what cool cats do? Wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff.
When: Tonight! (25th November 2011)
Where: TARDIS (the phone box one, obviously >.>) Archived Console Room of the Third Doctor to be exact =D
Warnings: ...it's a Time Lord and his humanized Time Machine/Space Ship... what do you think?


Linear time, it was something that Sexy still had trouble figuring out. Not so much the figuring it out aspect as the having to go about passing her time in such a way. When one was the means of traveling between time and space in any which direction, being grounded into a linear time line was quite distressing. Especially when all reason and logic said that she shouldn't be able to exist in such a fashion. Her consciousness should never be able to exist within such a small and fragile shell of a human body. Yet the strange mystical biblical Seal made it so that was the case. It pulled and shoved, bringing people and taking people. This time two of their own. Strays. Sent back to their respective futures of travel and life with and after the Doctor. Her thief. Someday, the Seal could send her back. Back to where the body failed and she no longer could communicate with her thief in the way that they could now. Now where she could talk. Or bite. Or kick. Or hug. All were quite strange things, but she was learning the ways of mastering human interaction even if she still had a preference for throwing things at someone if she was upset and couldn't express herself. Still, she could read social cues better even if she never filtered herself, not knowing how, not understanding. She was the embodiment of time and space, able to see the past present and future, the strains of time, time streams and how they splintered by being here, but she didn't understand filtering herself.

The tenth regeneration of her thief had said he'd lost track of time and Sexy still didn't grasp that though she had often taken to exploring her own rooms. There were a lot, after all, a TARDIS was bigger on the inside than the outside. She stayed away from the pool, an aversion to the contained water from her brief stint as Ophelia where she kept trying to drown herself. Her body could remember the burning sensation in her lungs from lack of oxygen, the gasping in of water and bubbles before being pulled to the surface in her numerous attempts in the span of a day. Poor poor Ophelia. So mad. So lost. So mistreated by those she trusted. And this strange strange place had turned her from one mad bitey woman into a mad, drowning herself woman.

Finding herself bored and not really knowing how to handle it following the Thanksgiving festivities the day before, Sexy had taken to 'exploring' herself. Not that she didn't know where everything was already. Of course she did. She was the soul of the TARDIS. She knew each and every room, even rooms the Doctors didn't know about. Rooms that hadn't existed yet. The location of where they would be, the consoles already preserved despite not having happened yet. It was all quite complicated and not complicated at all. Just because the Doctor couldn't catalogue them didn't mean she couldn't. Still, it was quite strange, two sets of consciousness in the same place. The consciousness within the actual shell and the consciousness within the too small prison of a human body. It shouldn't be able to happen, two of one within the same space, yet here she was. And her thief. Two of him. Though that had been known to happen before. Paradoxes. She hated paradoxes. And she hated the Master. Of that she was certain.

He was planning. She knew it. He was always planning. Manipulating and seducing people so they didn't see. He made himself Prime Minister with only eighteen months to create a persona to seduce the masses. He hurt people. Made things wrong. His time stream didn't even have him redeem himself, though that wasn't even for the best of reasons. He'd saved her thief because he had wanted revenge, nothing more, nothing less. She didn't understand how Romana could fall for it but she was and Sexy didn't know how to express what he was doing because it was all jumbled and confusing. The past becoming future. There would be pain and destruction, there always was when he was involved. But no one listened because they didn't understand. Even her thief who could understand her, who she needed to understand others, he didn't understand her. The comment that she needed to work on her ability to communicate had come from him. The older him even while saying there was nothing wrong with it. Quite confusing.

For whatever reason, Sexy had taken place sitting in the middle of the archived consoles room from her thief's third form, staring up at the ceiling in thought. Things were brimming, danger and there was no way to foresee it because even then, Sexy could only see the time streams and what they meant. The pain. The losses and gains. It just didn't make sense.

"Old enemies... pain. Death.... being cut down, severed...."

The words were muttered to herself, no mind being paid to her surroundings. One would have to know how to reach an archived room and use the password to get in. She was as safe as she could be within herself, familiar and comforting and grounding.