( catch-all) the definite article, you might say

[thedreamer]

Who: The Doctor & You Don't Know It Yet But You're Already Friends
When: September
Where: Cadens, Horizon
What: General catch-all!~
Warnings: None currently but will change accordingly if needed!

Comments

★ CADENS | OTA | SEPTEMBER

[thedreamer]

[ The Doctor's had a storied and complicated history with various military institutions over the course of his long life. Notably, his protracted time spent with UNIT while exiled on Earth in his youth offered him a different perspective and broadened his mind, even if he'll always have concerns about the military and their weapons in particular. Broadening the mind, though — isn't that the point, really, of living at all?

Even now, even here, while he feels a surge of displeasure at the military drills, he alternately feels a pang at the recollection of memories long past now, of one of his oldest and dearest friends, the Brigadier; what would he think now, what would he have to say about all of this? No, no, best forget; forget, like he always does. Never would he ever dwell in memory...

But they're doing their drills, these soldiers, and he worries as much as he's wary of the potential fate to come, the fate that tilts on precarious ground. War and magic, and dark things he can only wonder at thus far, until he knows more about this place. Whatever it takes, though, he'll see to it that the people here are safe, all of them. As he always does, he keeps ever busy, sticking his nose where it does and doesn't belong, asking questions he shouldn't ask, bothering endearing himself to anyone who will listen, but especially those who won't. ]

The Hall of Natural Relics
[ If you catch him inside, he'll be observing everything he can with rapt attention and genuine enthusiasm, his hands clasped behind his back as he leans in to see, understand, learn. The relics here will tell him more about the world around them, and his mind is working ten times faster than that of any human mind, processing everything he takes in, memorizing the details, storing it away, cross-referencing with everything he's ever encountered in his long years. One particular set of skeletal remains intrigues him and he leans in for a closer look, a wide smile on his face. ]

A beauty, isn't it? With a story to tell, like all of us.

Wandering
[ The Doctor's picked up a few odd jobs here and there — not for genuine want of money, but out of necessity, as these things go — and he's enjoyed being kept busy, along with the chance to learn more about the Free Cities in his adventures. And that's what this is, essentially — another adventure, albeit one unlike anything he's encountered before.

He hasn't bothered looking for a place of residence; rarely sleeping, he has little need, though he's made do when he's needed to. At some point, perhaps, he'll settle in somewhere, but for now, he's more content being untethered. The TARDIS is his home, after all, and without his old girl he's far too restless to "settle" for the moment.

One particular day, as night draws near and the stars spread across the sky, the Doctor casts his gaze skyward, a whimsical smile on his face. He'll speak easily to anyone passing by. ]

Beautiful, aren't they? No matter how many times I look up. They'll all look different on other planets, of course, accounting for axial tilt and atmospheric variations, scattering light in all different directions. Some of those stars up there might already have died, but we wouldn't know it standing here. The light a star gives out on its last breath can take thousands, millions, billions of years to reach us here at this moment. The finite speed of light. The wonder of the universe.

wandering;

[righteously]

( The Doctor's home is the TARDIS, Dean's is the Impala — both of them unfortunately separated from their traveling house on wheels. There's always the Horizon, of course, and he spends a fair amount of time there working on the dreamscape re-imagining of his baby, but... when it comes down to brass tax, out here in the real world, she's gone. He doesn't have her, he's stuck in one place, and the most traveling he does is throwing himself onto a horse and riding out into the desert to hunt something dangerous.

Dean, unlike the Doctor, has gotten rather used to being anchored. Resigned, maybe. Most of the Summoned in the Free Cities move from the Barracks to Mag's Inn and Tavern in Cadens proper, because a distaste for the military runs common among them. Dean made that move himself, and then took it even a step further. He's a land owner now, there's a house with a deed in his name that he pays actual taxes for, believe it or not.

That being said, it's hard to completely kill the drive to wander, or the desire to be out under the open stars. They've got that in common.

He's got a beer in one hand, a sheathed sword in the other — he means to settle in some distance from the stranger and work on sharpening it for an hour or two when the conversation starts up.

He glances up. Remains quiet for a contemplative minute as the guy talks, as he posts himself up against a nice comfortable rock and takes a swig from his beer. At length, he tilts his head in concession. )

I used to know all the constellations back home. My old man, he uh... he made us learn how to navigate with 'em. Here... ( He shakes his head slowly. ) I don't even know if they have constellations here, so I've just been kinda... makin' 'em up myself. Check it out-

( He points up to a bright cluster in the southern portion of the sky. )

You see those... three in a line, stacked next to those other three, kinda over that... perpendicular cluster there?

[thedreamer]

[ Staying in one place, staying anchored anywhere at all — a dreadful fate to ruminate over for the ancient traveler perpetually running to and fro, skipping across the stars because there's always so much to see, so much to do, worlds out there where the sky burns and danger looms at every corner. The thrill of clinging desperately to that life never leaves him, and he'll always impress upon anyone he can (and he will, he'll never stop talking to anyone who will listen or won't listen, as the case may be) that it's an extraordinary life. Deep down, of course, there's far more to it; he can't very well stop running, can he? No, he knows what happens when he stops, when he's alone.

So here he is, trapped and anchored, but not alone (thankfully for everyone around him), and with a vast mystery to contend with. It's a reasonable exchange for the moment, where he can be of use and do what he's always done: help. No getting into trouble or danger, nothing of the sort. No, strictly helping in his usual way where everything absolutely goes according to plan and nothing at all goes awry..

The Doctor will, of course, ever and always make conversation with anyone who passes by, whether they acknowledge his presence or not. But his presence has not only been acknowledged, his inclination to discuss the stars is heeded. So, now Dean gets to contend with a Doctor instantly more exuberant...as if that were possible. Following the other man's directive and line of sight, it's with a broad smile that the Doctor's gaze lifts precisely to the southern sky. ]

Beauties they are, yes, a triumphant little trio making their mark on the sky! Go on, then, what are you calling them?

[righteously]

( Tack on another shared trait to their small but growing list of similarities: Dean sucks at being alone. He can't do it, he's never been able to do it. Being alone with himself only makes him darker, makes him worse, makes him dangerous to himself and, occasionally, to other people.

Fortunately for him and everyone around him, he has a constant companion in the form of an ancient alien being — named Castiel, who is not presently around, so this other ancient alien being will do. )

That one... ( He declares proudly; ) Is called Endless Soup, Salad, and Breadsticks, aka the Olive Garden cluster.

( He may have been a little hungry when he named it. )

You can't really see the soup or the salad, but the breadsticks, those are totally right there.

wandering

[restingstitchface]

[Crane returns home at night but cannot sleep. Work keeps him awake during the day and alive at night. He strolls down the street, fingers itching to grab any animal or person, to hone his abilities and begin working. But one cannot kidnap people off the street.

This is not Gotham, after all.

So why not befriend them instead? He takes that monologue as his queue. Stars? Well, there are uglier things.]

Ah, not quite what I call the wonder of the universe. But we all have our preferences.

[thedreamer]

[ All these long years, the Doctor's encountered his fair share of those who prefer to meet his unbridled optimism with their particular brand of cynicism, or...something else entirely. He finds wonder and joy in the simplest things and he's not easily deterred from such feelings. ]

Since we're sharing then, do tell! I'm all ears — well, not all. In fact, they're a perfectly proportional size this go-around.

[ He touches his ears for good measure, briefly. ]

[restingstitchface]

Well, it's wonderfully simple.

[People like his friend find joy in natural beauty. He finds natural beauty in the working of the mind. That is why his answer is quiet and reverent. Eyes look towards the stars but find something else in them.]

I find the universe less spectacular than the people within it.

wandering!

[godshattering]

[ Restlessness is something Claude's used to, and being in Abraxas never has helped him with that. Not even after all his time here, either, and not when Cadens still has so much to offer in the way of exploring with how the city shifts as all large cities do.

On this particular night, sleep was something to be postponed for later when the urge to go for a walk, see about a night market, anything was one he ranked higher than settling in with a book for the night. Said book comes with him instead tucked away in his bag as a backup plan to find a bench and read somewhere if possible, and there's a fair bit of wandering which happens before he finds the market he had in mind and browses for some snacks for this adventure.

A bench is precisely where Claude ends up after all with a paper cone of some fried dough snacks rolled through savory spices set on top of his bag next to him. That book's in his hand though rather than what he'd hoped, he's doing more of a staring-at-the-same-page for a while than actually reading it or absorbing anything. It makes it all the easier to look up when someone speaks and even more so when he realizes it's on one of his favorite topics - the stars - though it's also more than that.

Wait a minute - ]

Were you an astronomer back home? [ Well. That's not exactly what Claude meant to ask while shutting his book as that attempt to read is now truly forgotten, but: it's a start as he looks at the other. ] Or a scholar of the stars since that sounded awfully like a possibility, or maybe I'm just flattering myself by calling my own research of the stars here that. What's your favorite one from home?

[ Star, constellation, anything in between - all acceptable answers to him. ]

[thedreamer]

[ The Doctor is instantly delighted, of course. A response of any kind (good or bad, he's not choosy) would uplift him, but that the one speaking to him now actually queries him about his favorite stars, well, it tells the Doctor he's met someone of a like mind, at least as it pertains to looking up and studying more about what's out there. This, naturally, means that he'll be latched on to the other.

His wide and bright grin no doubt tells a story before the Doctor even speaks again. Rubbing his hands together just a little, he takes the opportunity to sit on the bench as well, though does keep at least a semi-respectable distance between them. ]

Astronomer of a sort, yes, though I'd hardly limit myself to only that. My home is the stars, you might say, so — choosing a favorite, oh, I couldn't. Impossible. There's so many, how to begin!

[ And he is...already up and off the bench again. That lasted two seconds; two seconds of stillness before he has to move again, still smiling as he looks up. ]

There's a star in the Scutum-Centaurus spiral arm of the Milky Way Galaxy, oh about... [ He spreads his hands out as far as they'll go, puffing a breath out of the corner of his mouth. ] 22.8ish light-years from the Sun. If you're familiar with Earth, that is. It spins once every 0.9 seconds, normal, regular, but what's far more unique about it is it turns off for a time. Just...disappears entirely, blinks out for hundreds of days at a time. It comes back, of course, on and off like that. A story all its own, that one.

There's another star — loved this one — eaten by a black hole hundreds of years ago. I watched it go...

[ Whoops. He could keep going. ]

We'll bookmark the rest of that conversation, won't forget. Back to you, though! You've been researching the ones here, you said.

so sorry for the delay, last week was all over the place for me!

[godshattering]

[ That the question makes his new companion all but light up isn't lost on Claude while he observes carefully behind that genial mask he so often wears, but the more he listens, the less it stays a mask and becomes something more of actual interest. A home that is the stars - he muses on that for a minute before watching as there's gestures to the sky, and then Claude turns his own attention to what's above them.

There's the sense, like when he learned why it is Rhea had always seemed older than her tenure as archbishop implied, or why Teach possessed an occasionally unnerving version of the same feeling applied in different ways. It clicks into place with hundreds of years and watching it go, and then his gaze swivels back. ]

Sorry, you're saying you watched a star disappear centuries ago? And that you lived among them?

[ There's no skepticism or disbelief there, just genuine curiosity. He thinks of Garrus and Shepard and what they'd described of being in space, and discussions of stars he's had with others from Earth. What little context Claude has for that helps as he fits some puzzle pieces together. It's a good thing there's that promise of not forgetting to continue it because he's certainly going to come back to it, but that can wait as he nods in regards to Abraxas' night skies. ]

I have here and there, since I was hoping to find any constellations from home that might also be here. No luck on that yet in all my studies, but what I've come across in libraries sounds a bit like what you've described. My familiarity is based more in the legends, but also. [ He's fishing around in his pockets to retrieve the compact mirror he usually keeps with him, casually flipping it open with the night sky above them now much closer thanks to the projection of it in accurate detail from the mirror overhead for both of them. ] Navigation, since it's a viable way to get around the desert if you plan to visit it, though you might also know of navigating within the stars from the sound of it.

hall of natural relics

[aquilus]

[Despite lacking a full-time occupation in this land, Altaïr has plenty to keep his days busy, between attending lectures, preparing his caches, wandering while looking for anything odd or otherwise of note, and of course performing those cobbled-together odd jobs that make his living, such as it is. But he keeps coming back to places of learning, like this hall, the great library of Cadens and elsewhere — how can he resist, when there's so much left to learn?]

Even in death, its tale isn't fully told. There's something precious in that, I think.

[And morbid, possibly. At least in the eyes of many others, he knows. Not this man, apparently.]

I'd like to have seen it in life. I suppose it's a kind of puzzle — there are pieces of knowledge here, but we have to put in effort to assemble a whole.

[thedreamer]

[ A fellow scholar of sorts, or perhaps a philosopher, the way he speaks of its tale not being told, and wishing to have seen it in life. Or...simply, just someone who pays a bit more attention than most. Others might simply observe it and pass by without considering it at any great length or depth. Naturally, this consideration from the other man already draws the Doctor closer. ]

I would have been able to show you, if I had my ship. Gone back in time and we'd have seen it in its glory. Though, that's a different sort of tale.

[ His smile softens, and it's clear the Doctor is pondering more deeply now. He also looks around them for a moment before focusing back on the man close to him. ]

There are endings all around here, all with stories to tell. One part of who and what they were is gone, but if we remember them, they're not really gone completely, and the puzzle we work out for ourselves, well, we give their memory a new and different sort of life, don't we?

[ He doesn't like endings, of course, never has, but he does love stories and the chance to give those who have long gone a sort of second life by remembering they were here at all. ]

You first — what do you think? What was our friend here like?

[aquilus]

A ship that can cross time as well as water must be a very fine ship indeed.

[He'd like to see it, if such a thing truly exists. No surprise that it can't be allowed to exist in Abraxas — a ship like that would represent freedom of movement like no other he can imagine, and for all that the Summoned are given in food, clothing and the necessary sundries for life, the ones who brought them here will never give them that.

He considers the other man's words, considers the set of remains before them. Altaïr knows something of anatomy, but not much beyond that of men. He is no scientist. But that kind of accuracy isn't what's being asked for, is it?]

I'd like to think that they were bolder than we might see without life animating their form — that they were capable of more than we can discern from the physical form.

From the look of what's left, they could have been a climber. But maybe not only out of practicality or survival. Maybe they simply enjoyed being up high, seeing the world spread out below them. Maybe it helped them feel centered in some way.

hall of natural relics

[techmaturgy]

[Viktor is not a biologist--or an anthropologist, or a paleontologist, or a natural historian--but something he does appreciate is the quiet of a museum, even if this particular exhibit is not his specialty. He's been thinking, again, of the strange skeletal arm that Geralt once showed him, and though he knows he won't find anything similar in a carefully-curated (and probably censored) academy exhibit, he finds himself needing to get out of the workshop and clear his head. This is just his way of making it productive.

Or attempting to, anyway.

He gets distracted fairly quickly by an arrival (a Summoned, he thinks), who seems to be very enthusiastic about the exhibit. Viktor is tucked into a corner, hunched over a notebook, but the talking out loud is hard to ignore.]

Have you seen anything like it before?

[He doesn't move to stand from his stool--but he will look up from his notebook, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.]

[thedreamer]

Oh, yes, often! Here, there, not-there, over-there, everywhere, anywhere in between. Loads of worlds and species out there have this same sort of collection, a repository of what's long past.

Of course, it's only ever part of the story, and not often the whole story or even the true story, but it's a jumping-off point and a conversation starter at the very least. Take us, for example, now we have something to talk about, all because of these bones.

[ He smiles eagerly. ]

To be fair, though, I would have found a reason to talk to you, with or without the remains of our dear departed friend here.

[ Hands folded behind his back now, the Doctor steps a little closer to the man who's spoken to him, giving a nod towards the notebook in his hand. ]

Gathering your observations?

[techmaturgy]

[Yes, Viktor will agree that Piltover too has museums and exhibitions, though of course what piques his interest is this man talking like he has a working knowledge of other worlds. Intriguing, to say the least, but he makes an attempt not to grasp at it right away. They've only said a few words to each other, after all.

Well. The Doctor is maybe saying a lot of words. Viktor glances around, as if gauging whether or not there's anyone else here who might be interesting to talk to, instead of a strange lanky nerd crumpled up on a stool.]

What reason is that, exactly?

[He uncrumples, slowly, though his grip on the notebook is possessive.]

I like to come here to think.

★ THE HORIZON | OTA | SEPTEMBER

[thedreamer]

Madman With a Box
[ A madman with a box without a box is just...a madman. Well, that won't do. Oh, he's more than comfortable referring to himself as a madman, but it's the lack of a box — his sexy blue box — that has him going madder than he's ever been, more lost than he's ever felt. She'll find him, she always does, or he'll find her, but for the moment he's trapped, and rebuilding her in the vast expanse of his mind is a comfort, at the very least.

He hasn't had as much experience with the Horizon as others, naturally, but he's quick to adjust and settle in to the unique facets of this landscape in his mind. The ability to conjure his TARDIS in some way is better than being completely alone, at least, and he's eager to share with others who might venture this way.

On the outside, the TARDIS will appear to be nothing more than an ordinary old blue police box; oh, but she's so much more, so much grander, so much better than anyone could possibly imagine. In the infinite grandeur of the Doctor's own mind, he's able to recollect all the most important and even minute details. Stepping outside for a moment, he fondly rubs a hand over the exterior doors, a pleased smile on his face. Not perfect, but nearly as he remembers her. ]

Where to next, old girl?

[ As if they're going anywhere but here. Yet he is, as ever, the dreamer. ]

lmk if the assumption of the tardis being in her space is okay!

[carmesi]

[the horizon space is a ... shared space. wanda could quite literally wander off from her forest into someone's idea of a city without much warning. each domain is intrinsically tied to one another, limitations and borders but imaginary lines. most times, she can happily pretend that there is privacy and seclusion to be had in the little corner that she's carved for herself.

other times, she remembers it's not always like that, especially when she's got a space that is as open as an unruly forest.]

Is that yours?

[she says, abruptly, noticing that a tall, lanky man has stepped out of the blue police box. she had been sitting on a bench, out here in her garden, waiting to see if the owner of the object would show up. wanda steps over the cobblestone towards him.]

Were you in there the whole time?

absolutely okay and perfect!

[thedreamer]

[ Utterly delighted the moment he's aware that he has company, the Doctor smiles broadly, not startled in the least by her presence. On the contrary, he's thrilled to meet someone new here; the more, the better, in his mind. ]

This? This beauty? [ Said with such fondness as the palm of his hand rests fondly against the frame. Not perfect, no not nearly, but good enough for now while he's absent his dear TARDIS. ] Oh, yes, I belong to her and she belongs to me. A long while now. How perfect that you happened to be right here in this moment, excellent timing!

[ As if that has anything to do with anything at all in this...space, being what it is. ]

You'll want to see inside, surely?

[ Because of course, right? Please say yes, his eyes almost beg. ]

[carmesi]

[well, he is certainly attached to it, by the sounds and looks of it. wanda grimaces a little and stops a few feet from him and his 'beauty'. it's not the intense optimism that is strange to her, but rather... something about this man that feels quite beyond what a normal man should be like.

hrm.]

I have a feeling you won't take anything but a 'yes' as an answer. [just a hunch. wanda takes a few more steps closer, figuring that curiosity doesn't always kill the cat.] What — is this thing, anyway?

[youmiscalculated]

[ There's so much that Adora's never seen before, and now that things are quieter and the rifts are closed, she's exploring the Horizon. She hasn't decided yet what she wants, and maybe she's overthinking it because she can always change it, but she doesn't want to go with the Crystal Castle just because it's familiar.

That's how she comes across the Doctor, and she remembers him from the marketplace. Adora's grinning as she makes her way over. ]

Doctor!

[ How could she ever forget that name, it's as unique to her as 'Glimmer.' She has no preconceived notions of what the blue box is, phone booth or otherwise, and she looks it up and down. ]

What's this?

[thedreamer]

[ Ever pleased to see a friend, the Doctor's hands briefly wave about delightedly in front of him as he gestures to the blue police box, as though showing her off. Which...he definitely is. While he can't dash about the stars with her in this space, the sight of his TARDIS is comforting, nonetheless, and he's more than eager to share her with others. ]

Adora! You couldn't have come at a better time, honestly.

[ He holds out a key for the TARDIS doors, wanting to give her the chance to open the doors herself. ]

See for yourself, go on.

[youmiscalculated]

[ There's something about how excited he is already that makes Adora eager to see what could possibly be in this little box. Taking the key, she turns it over in her hand; she's never seen one that looks like this before, small and silver and flat, but she knows what to do.

Taking the key, she first reads the sign. ]

'Police.' I don't know that word.

[ But then she forgets all about words because she opens the door and it's like opening the door into a control room. Whipping her head around, she grins. ]

No way! What?

[mobezon]

{ sometimes wandering the domains is something one does. eventually everyone gets curious enough. since the recent attacks, louis has rebuilt what had been destroyed in his. taking a break and not wanting to return to the outside is that sort of day. louis has always stayed on the outskirts when he wandered, never intruding if it can be avoided, and always one to prefer being welcomed.

it’s not everyday he comes up an expanse of a domain still unfolding in what he assumed is a newer summoned, and more so what appears to be a man outside a police box that he’s only ever seen in europe. it’s out of bounds out here and it does make him pause. the voice draws him in as he overhears and louis steps forward, still at a respectful distance. even outside his own domain, louis is wearing what he presents there, which is a three piece maroon suit cut in a 1910s style and the inscription the lovers etched upon his front pocket. one notable thing is that the night is casually following him where he ends up - of course it’s someone else’s domain now so if it were to be overwritten, he’d just disappear back to his domain by default. }

Don’t tell me you’re a police man?

{ a question for a question from mere observation and a possible side eye from someone who hasn’t had the best run in with police anything. he’ll give the benefit since the stranger’s attire is certainly eccentric enough. }

[thedreamer]

[ Etched upon the Doctor's own front pocket is the Fool, which he rather embodies wholly. No complaints there from this one. Hearing the voice of another immediately delights the Doctor, though; the other man could have queried anything at all and the Doctor would have been thrilled for the company regardless. His beloved ship may be limited in scope and function here, but he's recreated her as near to her full glory as possible, which means he's ever eager to show her off.

He keeps a respectable distance as well, though the visitor is given the Doctor's full attention now. ]

Why would you — oh, yes, silly Doctor. Beautiful blue police box. No, no, far from a police man. It's only this bit that's the most relevant — [ He points to the words on the exterior plate, then recites — ]

Advice and assistance obtainable immediately. And help. Do a bit of that now and then.

[ Now and then. He's not normally one for modesty, no, he'll extol his adventures and accomplishments about other things like his knowledge or adventures, but when it comes to the big things, the world-and-universe saving, well, he's far more understated particularly because all the saving he does is with the help of his friends and so many others.

He offers his hand now, actually remembering something passing for etiquette, though would take no offense if the other doesn't return it in kind. ]

I'm the Doctor! And —

[ Do give him a moment; here he is, all swept up in talking about his TARDIS, he's finally clued in that following along with the man is...the night itself? Oh, now that's terribly interesting. Looking up and all around, and now back to the man with more scrutiny, curiosity, and delight, the Doctor takes further note. ]

And you, you've brought something with you. Oh, this is good, this is extraordinary, do tell.