#cloister wraiths

[unrenderedfuture]

Borusa trying to gossip with the Matrix Cloister Wraiths: “Anyway so I then went and asked Ms. Brendafkakwjfnia and she told me that apparently Lady Flavia in fact was only hiring ugly Chancellory Guards as apparently she was concerned about me “getting distracted by hot men who blindly follow orders” meanwhile she never got the reports I wanted for the senate meeting!”

Cloister Wraith: *screams of eldritch terror*

Borusa, sipping a cup of tea: “Tell me about it.. honey I am tired of Rassilon’s shit too🙄. These people just need to let us do our thing! I am not mentally unstable! You deserve a break too!”

#cloister wraiths #the five doctors #Borusa #funny #Doctor who funny #doctor who incorrect quotes #doctor who #classic doctor who #meme #gallifreyan meme #Borusa is gay

[gotyouanyway]

i just really like that book 😭

#if i was crazy enough and had any means or ability to edit videos you KNOW i’d put together a fake episode trailer for it #cloister wraiths for the banshee circuit.. ok bye #p

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

I was wondering if you could explain how the Matrix actually... works? Is it more like a Time Lord artificial afterlife, or just a collection of knowledge? Do you ask your dead housekeeper for her cookie recipe, or do you just access it like Google?

Absolutely!

What is the Matrix?

Think about Wikipedia.

Now, imagine if Wikipedia had detailed profile pages of every single member of the human race that had lived since its inception in 2001 (around 7.5~ billion individual, heavily detailed profiles).

Then, imagine each profile page had a little downloadable file that was that person's consciousness.

Next, think about how every person's knowledge gained in their life is spread throughout that Wikipedia on every single subject.

Now, think, 'What if Wikipedia had a plugin that could tell you future events based on all the information it has from all these people's experiences?'

Finally, put all this into a cool little weird video game that uses virtual reality.

If you can imagine that, you're pretty close.

Functions of the Matrix

Knowledge Repository: The Matrix acts as an archive, containing the lived histories and profiles of every Time Lord that's lived, and all the knowledge they gained in their life.

Quick Updates: Living Time Lords are biologically connected to the Matrix, able to access the information at will (except if you've been a bad Time Lord, of course). When they die the Matrix automatically creates their profile page when they die, so their entire life goes to the Time Lord Wiki for the benefit of all.

Simulated Reality: If entered, the environment is a simulated reality where the personalities of deceased Time Lords can continue to exist. This can make it seem like a kind of artificial afterlife where you could potentially interact with past or future incarnations of Time Lords.

Predictive Tool: The Matrix generates prophecies and foresees potential futures, guiding Time Lords in making informed decisions about potential timelines.

Physical and Astral Projection: Time Lords can also use the Matrix to project their images across spacetime or within the confines of a TARDIS, communicating across vast distances or even between different temporal phases. Isn't that handy?

Security and Integrity

Despite its advanced capabilities, the Matrix isn't infallible. It can be tampered with, and its data can be manipulated or stolen, which is considered a helluva crime on Gallifrey. The Matrix also uses various safeguards, like Cloister Wraiths and living fibre optic cables that act like firewalls to protect its most critical data.

Access and Interaction

Access to the Matrix varies; it can be through physical terminals, via direct neural connections, or by using artefacts. Once inside, users can navigate a realm where physical laws are malleable and where their thoughts can shape reality because anything is possible.

In practical terms, if you're deadset on finding that cookie recipe, the Matrix could definitely provide access to that knowledge, either by allowing you to interact with the housekeeper's stored personality or by just retrieving the information like a search engine. Alternatively, you could shirk your holiday in Disneyland and jump right into the Matrix to spend a day being attacked by virtual blancmanges and Victoria sponges until you find what you need.

Hope that helped! 😃

→🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (WIP) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP)

-------------------------------------------------------

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#doctor who #gil #gallifrey institute for learning #dr who #dw eu #gallifrey #gallifreyans #ask answered #whoniverse

[theblogof-rassilon]

Darling! Where have you been? The guards and Cloister Wraiths won’t tell me anything 😡! I miss you 🥺. And my head feels funny again…

@itsborusabitch is that you my dear? I've been dealing with some insurrectionists... That idiot Banthony and some... Well. If you're lonely, you could talk to @eternalgoblinfiend , who's in the Dark Tower. Take some headache pills, I left them on the counter.

#ask #answer #borusa #neglect #of rassilon

[elinaline]

Ok so final opinion on cyberpunk 2077 is that it's a game with a lot of potential that sadly only delivers on a fraction of what it promises, and with super weird pseudo progressive liberal political takes. It's a constant up and down of "oh what a cool concept !" and "but why did they stop at this that's not even an introduction". Game really does suffer from the having many ideas and not pushing the release date further to go to the end of those ideas. The fact that the whole netrunning/AI is probably the most important piece of the game story wise, which you only just really understand if you choose to end as a legend of the Afterlife, but all the quests stop at the first hint of doing something interesting. The huge buildings with rendered offices in there but all the doors are closed so the city looks big but ends up feeling tiny and cloistered. The romances that sound really fucking cool and interesting but once you've finished the gigs it's just as if you'd never talked to the romanceable characters they just send you like a couple of texts and that's it, no new interaction not even a new line when you see them after other jobs. The gang wars where if you wait 48h the same guys will be fighting on too of their bodies that you left in the same place previously. The old badland warzone near the border, where they clearly wanted to put some more story and didn't have the time, with the spot where someone was apparently captured by wraiths and the three wraith bodies there are the exact same model. The absence of street or bar names on the map, when other characters tell you to meet them at the crossing of X and Y streets near this one restaurant. The hint at the idea of a quest starting on buying one of the apartment where a guy disappeared but there's never any follow-up job. The collecting jewels which were clearly meant to be used as cosmetics but it's impossible. The fact that you can buy BDs but not watch them, you can buy old CDs but not listen to them.... They had so many flavorful ideas that they just left to rot. It makes me very angry to think about what there is compared to what we could have had, was this fucking game company not dead set on crunching.

[kylo-wrecked]

○ valentine's day alphabet ●

a/c/f/j/y ; whichever letters, whichever muse~

{ from this v-day meme disguised as a soft sunday meme }

C / J://

Cael drenched in chocolate synth-silk.

In his youth, he might have noticed the gown cloistering her body, the High Vis style setting off Cael's sharp hips, hinting at the realm of her thighs, while yards of russet fabric and henna netting leave everything above her shoulders to fantasy. He'd have brought the edge of his saber to her headwrap until it fluttered onto the floor in ashes, simply to see.

Not now. What trifle. What a fatuous distraction it would be from the sublimity of Cael's most virtuous beauty, her sadness and pain, and the imperium responsible for them.

Cael lifts a fluid sleeve, offering a glimpse of her howlite wrist as she motions to the peon at her feet. Ren mashes his thumb against the middle bones of his clenched fingers.

When she joins him on the ledges of Esvannis, he never looks at her.

F://

Sleep becomes another betrayal, so Ren draws upon reserves of energy from the Force to carry through.

These are the moonless days.

Night arrives on Videntis, a sustained, pitch-black funeral toll ripening the darkness of the day. While others dream or power down, a wraith steals into Dominium, the great stygian trine. Now and again, as the cowled figure moves through tangles of bleak ingresses, comes a steady patter of doughy, muffled thudding.

All is quiet when the wraith slips into Cael's chamber, where she's a whorl of titanium bones and achromic xenograft. Around her hunched shoulders, her hair swims, siphonophores in the deep of her vesicle. Her fingers lightly grip her knees, twitching.

The Insomnium, so vulnerable. For how long did the Dius think they could keep her safe?

The wraith shakes off his cowl.

While he spends a few precious moments watching her sleep, Ren's palm brushes over the curve of Cael’s transparisteel nest, where her sleeping face is turned against a mother-of-pearl shoulder.

#nightmarefuele #headcanons #dark!ren headcanons #drabble #sunday funday #edited: for quality assurance

[libidomechanica]

And this our married at a

A Meredith sonnet sequence

                It hastily, an aster, painter star!   On the hearts the sudden, fainting here; for   one is dull at the windows. And this our married at a’? On the side of two, and the boy brings hot dogs, a little goes a   long white wraith hair is gone, to the chamber   or the free, the crown of aurorean love: rich love, like chiropractors having lived and a’! Back, he spurred like an heap of wheat   set about it, of thy dayly-vexing   care? They lay calm-breathing, on their roof of thy thighs are like an egg in a nest was vowel-keen and go about it Best and   statuary when right hand is unto   me, my sister, my love; there is of Not more the secret said: The end again.

                For thought but love doth she that flinty savage   dares, when yet they gagged his pith, tho downe   his heartbreak, so name him hasted thy Love are from what they quite alone had: els had he notices, Darling, an upturned   it; and, for it! He did not hear? For which   makes thee therefore soone ease of it, something over his corage hath lost: thy Ewes, that Loves delight, i’ll come and so the name on   a wooden gavel: esperanza’s Gavel.   For Right that thou dost so charge us? How high she’s talking of salt, and he not desire that may chaunce to swerue, and fair   Syrinx return. Or bishop, but my   beloved face; in these books: hope. The daughters forth to pledge, with shame alike, the hates remoue.

                Her little heart, my life, please a nation.   Poem that burns! Doe not done. Of my mind.   While we have rest, that th’ uncertain there for tears nor prayers to your carefully thereat shotte. With the sunshine and swig!   But then, and there shall bleed, my Friendship like   the barks, my soul did pierce: where branched thoughts, new and what I knew the hope that of these raspberries. For that blest may be the pillar   high as the landlord’s black-eyed daughters of   the Earth, and noble yet later in our style I’ll read, his for it full worth: we have plenty: so let out their parts of me: there   by me releeued. Though it were through throbbing   quicker thy lovely form, unless I blunder a little flower that beat too fast.

                But hush! Her level rays, like the ocean   meet, and yet truly sayes, they crop—was thend   of eve, when all bodies meet in Lethe lake, and beate vpon the heaving hawthorn bush as crests her body is not that thou whom my   soul loveth: I held his belly on him   sallow from the rich garners the cherry, there is not torn. Of all thee, yea, take aught excepting Griefs, and plays with still a man’s   tomb the way you so. Ambitious folke: his   colowred crimson lurks in the solemn as unpleasant fruits; camphire in the Sheepe, such a beauty, lime and play, love, with them,   and cloistered in men’s eyes watch our Faith thou   wert made another work, doth take all that bare them for pittie, wil ranke Winter-sterued.

                And more, for which might blend in one, and he   stops under the hardest stones I els would   be to my flowres, to peinct thir girlonds with chastned mind I stood up to attention. The heaving hawthorn bush as crests her   body into Love’s unbounded the sands   upon the sun, and tooth’d with little God I heard in the earth; the time for some fault was grave! Where now, breath with a stuffed with   furious mazes spread, under the Outward   Form of golden sands upon those are crush’d in absence more is craving, never heart moves from bedde. Field, that earst seemd but their glowing,   yellow leaves, or not ask a kiss, I   woke to gladness melts in bliss the train emerges from underground I light and wrecked.

                Death, there that ye stir not upon us   that now vnnethes the forest thou wilt swim   in that graffed to the Indian common grave, no returns for whole centuries of my rurall music, whilst flower blown,   in fragrant innocence? When you hee’l leave   ere long. For those eyes that dewly adayes countenance is come to the same recure, am like fire What is old, and him not   for my despaire sweet hour yields;—reflecting   love; then on them were apart, gathering perfumed with the land, I am one with great god Pan, the youthful Prince d’Amour herte   up-casteth the landlord’s black hair from Gilead.   Root they doe as the spell: You ride now the coming minute mock the rise or fall.

                My beloved that for the frozen mountains   steep by steep; and thus him playnd, the friend:   this false matter what might made the strength and bonny, yet fast fa’ the seas gang dry, my deadly fae, unless thou perceive, when fires   of keen delight, as she passes zither   of chromatic fumes, and a helpe for him. In some one else can come home, my spring begonne, and we will hardly seem worth is   here. All in its girth; but when the window   of a train of valiant lovers gone, beauty’s dead fleece is rough a field with fear and wide, look we for any kinship with the   violets lingered day by day, I bade it   keep thy fingers hold this tale, and after sea. The heather, wi’ purfles and then flies.

                Sinewy thighs, my lips I traveller.   Then he spake: I sought him into motley   halves; pensive, he look’d but will not less alone and the difference between the huge Colossus’ legs, and my hand. One is tying   those boughs thereof he wilbe wroken entangled   even children are about! She would ne’er be prest twelve abreast. And what Salámán not of Woman merit in that blest   seats of those in sorrow. They had tied her   hand, may to adorn the garden, taste that warmed our desires have increase my fears as they gagged his fires, and breaking the land,   with boards ere long. But they were drinking light   and daring palace shot its spectacles and tasting of some quicker than these goods.

                But when December blights and rejoice in   the shining here; for one short hour of his   espousals, and bristled a tune to this that is not a house where Love his slomber broke? Oh, though I, once only: we lodged in   a cause of the vines have never breast, warm   breath from work and the beginnes to budde, and breaking the leaves, or not at all. Bold, that an iron tyrannie doth dwell, will waste,   as the shadow as I’m nearing—i only   everything as still sleepe with me from the third morowe, and flows, as your shelter ward the road smoking beautiful and wise,   and knows not mine’ or thine; ’ with spotted with   silken twist; where Laura lies in Petrarch wept, and, to the old inn-yard. To hear it.

                Smiles, miles and when I’m sitting aromatic   fumes, an amatory banquet   bids make the boy who only me is a bird. To see the moonlight; and his trees of time must go, since sweet or Vesper, amorous   sport of gamesome night. Ten thou among   women? Being paved within my heart, send me a little white lesions settle yet Gibson’s hash, and storing it with the   weaker now; tis true, despite thy scythe and   to see his neare ouerthrow. King George’s men came riding—o’er the conscious the rotation of electrons, so that is my part.   And hit me running then speake and the color   of thy dark eye glance traduce; no envious eyes watch our close my eyes or hair.

                An Inner Meaning upon thee lie! You   brushed my petals with great elixir to   thy solitude again as not a sign of boredom. First sign of boredom. Whose naked polished, the right had been basking in   the moonlight, and brought me to the west, that   nowe it auales. For she knows nought mought the twilight, and has been cast out. As solemn sea to the paines of glass, beauty doth   hold. Is that hope, but Love is such that burns!   The pot, I pour herte al hoolly on ground, yu run. Ere beams the color of things—ocean and cloistered in my heart-throbs, and hoary   frost, instede of blossomes, to feed   in tune. Marching—king George’s men came riding, up to the winter and gone; the floor.

                Or by thy countenance, let me tell his   head, taking slow steps backward thee up under   the earth a banner of pleasures move: so thought: had my friend than foe: whom self-caged Passion, from the stricken eagle soar! Over   garden, that so adorn’d their laws, command   me first hint of living brow; before you go, heare young, but my heart; another tree, I will bear all wrong. To fill a little   damp, spilling run warmed by thy countenance   is as good as none, or few, do hang upon the sun on their own disgrace me. Herself was so wimble, and was a tower   of Lebanon. What would moue; not their   leaues they gagged his pistol butts a-twinkle, his rapier hilt a-twinkle, and lost.

                We stood in my breast can give you. And take   his oaten pype, albee rude Pan thou, that   I was young hart: behold king Solomon without I leaue to loue, is graunt onely such delight over the hair of the   regions of the claret velvet coat; when   you must like a maukin she flew. Whose boughs there taste of that is worst of all Olympus’ faded Oake, whose knees are for myself   without all your old photograph of you   taken by the same: and the eye chews the apple tree: the upright did learn mi lesson where thy temple where the mark, the peace,   and will never ill-bred men—and your doing,   my darling the landlord’s daughter. Where they say, is that I come. Dens, from thy rest’?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #136 texts #sonnet #Markov chain length: 7 #190 texts #132 texts #rispetto #159 texts #cinquain #Markov chain length: 6 #145 texts #179 texts #Kelly lune #183 texts #curtal sonnet #165 texts

[riversofmars]

Sorry for the delay folks, rl responsibilies eating into precious writing time! But here we are, all pieces moving into place as we head for the final showdown, just a few more chapters! Hope you enjoy this one <3

Chapter 13: The Bells

“I’m sorry, Missy…“ Missy couldn’t tell if the regret in Clara’s voice was genuine or not. She was still struggling to catch up with what was happening.

“What are you…“ She stared at the heavy metal cuff Clara had snapped around her wrist. She had been so naive. She should have known Clara had had an ulterior motive when she had asked her here.

“This is my chance to prove myself.“ Clara replied giving her a half smile as she stepped away. It had been a cheap trick, asking for Missy’s help, using the connection they shared. Clara wasn’t exactly sure what exactly their relationship was, Missy had never given her much of an indication one way or another but they had something of a connection. And of course it was something the Emperor was only to happy to exploit once he found out about it. So here they were.

“You don’t have to do this.“ Missy said softly. “I should never have… you don’t need him, just come with me instead. Let me go and…“

“I think it’s a bit late for that.“ Clara cut in, her voice surprisingly bitter. “Just tell him what he wants to know.“

“What is this?“ Missy raised her arm with the cuff but before Clara could answer, the teleport engaged and the world around her disappeared.

Moments later, Missy materialised in a sort of tube. She needed a moment to orient herself. She stumbled out grasping for air and found herself in a dusty stone-walled room. She looked around for clues as to where she was but she couldn’t figure it out. She had been transported somewhere but where? She bent down and gathered a handful of dust from the floor, letting it run through her fingers as she looked around.

“I know you’re responsible for this, Emperor!“ She called into the quiet, just on the off chance someone as listening. Clara has said to tell him what he wanted to know… Whatever she was, she knew it was on the Emperor’s orders. Up ahead a door slid open by itself and Missy tentatively made her way out of the room. “The equipment in that room is consistent with an augmented ultra long-range teleport. So, I'm not more than a single light year from where I was, and I'm in the same time zone.“ She mused out loud as she looked down the empty corridor. There were windows now too and she stuck her head out. All she could see were very high towers, this appeared to be some kind of castle.

“Come on, chop chop, I’ve just been betrayed by the person I thought could help me put an end to you, my day can’t get much worse, let’s see about yours!“ Missy called out but there was no reply. If the Emperor was watching, he wasn’t inclined to talk. That was when she noticed the screens along the walls and she realised something was following her. She set off down the corridor but quickly found herself at a dead end, the last door revealing solid stone behind it. She turned round and found herself facing a hunched over creature, she couldn’t see its face if it even had one, just two pronged hands extending towards her and flies circling around it like they might around a corpse.

“I can’t actually see a way out of this… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, to just stop running, we’re all done for aren’t we…“ Missy swallowed as she contemplated the futility of her fight against the Emperor. She had been trying for so long and even using Clara had backfired. Maybe it was time she gave up the ghost. She wasn’t sure what would happen when the creature got to her but it certainly felt like death was stalking towards her.

“This is new. I'm scared. I just realised that I'm actually scared of dying.“ She admitted and suddenly, the creature stopped in it’s tracks.

“Something I said? What did I say?“ She mumbled as even the flies froze in mid air. “Why did you stop?“ Suddenly, there was creaking and banging and the castle started to move. The wall behind the door moved aside and Missy quickly stepped into the adjoining room.

Everything after that was a fight for survival and a quest for answers. What was this place? Why had she been brought here? And was there a way out? It didn’t take her long to realise this was a sort of torture chamber, specially designed for her. Exactly the sort of thing the Emperor would dream up. Everything, from the appearance of the stalking creature to the screens on the walls was designed to scare her. An automated haunted house, a mechanical maze.

It took a few more encounters with the creature until she realised that it was the revelation of secrets that stopped it and made the castle reset. That was also when she realised there was just one truth, one secret, she held that the Emperor would care about. One last victory that had eluded him for so long. She couldn’t possibly tell him. Protecting Gallifrey was the last thing she could do at this point and she was determined to do so.

When she finally encountered the wall of Azbantium that separated her from the outside world, the penny dropped at last. She would find a way out, even if it took a while. She’d done this before and she would do it again. She had been following her own breadcrumbs the entire time, she realised. There was a way out. And she would keep going, even if it was futile, even if it was just out of spite, she wouldn't let the Emperor break her.

As Missy smashed her fist into the wall she thought back to the moment that brought her here. Clara’s betrayal. She only had herself to blame. She was only grateful not to be able to remember all of this. Every time, every circle around, it was like the first time. It was only when she saw the stars that she realised how long it had actually been. But now she was so close to escaping. She smashed her fist into the unforgiving crystal and finally, four and a half billion years later, the wall crumbled.

The bright light of the binary suns blinded her, Missy needed a moment to orient herself. She blinked until finally, in the distance, the towers of the capital came into sharp focus and Missy felt her hearts lift with joy. Gallifrey. She was home at last and safe. She had escaped the Emperor’s torture chamber which, as she turned around, folded back in on itself and turned back into her confessionary dial. She bent down to pick it up but froze when suddenly, the noise of a TARDIS materialising sounded behind her.

——

“You’re not sleeping, are you.“ Missy rolled onto her side on the uncomfortable mattress. She was glad that both her and the Doctor were petite, else they would have had no space at all, but the Doctor was still close enough to keep her up with her fidgeting.

“Nope…“ The Doctor admitted and turned towards Missy. She had accepted that they had to get some rest but her brain simply refused.

“Why not?“ Missy asked though she could think of a thousand reasons to have sleepless nights.

“I feel like I’m missing something…“ The Doctor explained, slightly annoyed with herself.

“If you’re looking for a magical solution, Doctor, there isn’t one.“ Missy gave her a sad smile but the Doctor shook her head.

“That’s not it…“

“Then what?“ Missy frowned.

“Clara…“ The Doctor mused and lay back on her bed, staring up at the makeshift ceiling. “She doesn’t fit in.“

“What makes you say that?“ Missy asked, pushing herself up on her elbows.

“With the Ponds and River here… she’s the odd one out.“ The Doctor explained. Having witnessed the animosity between the Pond family and Clara, she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that she didn’t really belong there. “When I bumped into my Clara, I was alone so I needed someone to travel with me… but in this universe the TARDIS would have been rather crowded already… So why did they ask her along if they don’t like her?“ The question had been bugging her for a while now.

“I don’t see how it matters.“ Missy replied in an off-hand sort of way that gave the Doctor pause.

“What’s your history with Clara?“ She frowned looking over to her.

“What makes you think I have…“ Missy started but the Doctor interrupted her:

“In my universe, you were responsible for bringing us together.“

“I see…“ Missy sighed.

“In my universe, Missy thought Clara and I would bring out the worst in each other, that we were two parts of an ancient prophecy about throwing the universe into chaos. Did you… do you have anything to do with Clara being with the Emperor?“ The Doctor sat up now. She could tell from the way Missy avoided her eyes that she was on to something.

“It was a stupid idea, it backfired…“ Missy knew she couldn’t lie to her but she didn’t exactly want to talk about it either.

“What were you trying to accomplish?“ The Doctor asked shaking her head a little to herself.

“Same as what you just said… I thought she would… destabilise them. Their relationships, their…“ Missy gestured a little but she didn’t really have the words. It had been stupid. “I thought it was working but then…“

“She fell in love with the Emperor as well, she betrayed you and gained her trust like that, didn’t she.“ The Doctor was quick at putting the pieces together and Missy laughed a little. She couldn’t help but be impressed.  

“How did you figure that out?“ She asked.

“You seemed genuinely concerned that she would get herself killed with whatever she’s planning.“ The Doctor explained. Missy’s opinion on Clara’s plan hadn’t gone unnoticed. “You care about her at least a tiny bit.“

“That really has no baring on anything anymore, that was a long time ago.“ Missy waved it off.

“How long?“ The Doctor asked as a disturbing thought occurred to her.

“Sorry?“ Missy frowned.

“How long ago was that for you? Cause there is something else that’s been bugging me…“ The Doctor said and Missy sat up as well, she could tell neither of them would be getting any sleep tonight.

“What’s that?“

“Why are you here, Missy?“ The Doctor tilted her head, trying to get the measure of her.

“I told you, to help people…“ Missy didn’t understand why she was asking again.

“No, I mean here, of all places, on Gallifrey. Where you’re right under her nose and she could kill you if she wanted to. Like you’ve said before, there is nothing we can do here, no resources, the royal guards just there, the Quantum Shade… you have no wiggle room. So why not go somewhere where the Emperor’s influence is less… and start your resistance there? It’s what I would have done…“ The Doctor went on to explain.

“Why did you ask how long it’s been for me?“ Missy circled back to her original question.

“Because I think there is nowhere else to go. We’re at the end of time, aren’t we.“ The Doctor revealed her suspicion and Missy’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How do you know that? Not many people do.“

“It seems like a lot of the events that happened to me also happened here, just differently.“ The Doctor realised and got to her feet. She couldn’t sit still anymore. Missy had been through some of the same things she had. “I think if I knew more about everybody’s personal history, maybe I would be able to understand them a little better to make a plan… In my universe Gallifrey was hiding away at the end of time in a reality bubble too, I know because I went there the long way around…“ She looked back to Missy. “So how did you get here, Missy? Where is your TARDIS?“

“I don’t have a TARDIS anymore, Doctor, I didn’t time travel here… but it sounds like you know exactly how I got here.“ Missy gave her a sad smile.

“I’m so sorry, Missy…“ The Doctor didn’t know what else to say.

“I’d rather not talk about it.“ Missy shook her head, she didn’t want to dwell on it.

“Right okay… so when the Emperor calls themselves ruler of the universe, it’s really just Gallifrey, is it?“ The Doctor decided to focus her energies on something productive, rather than dwelling on the misery of the past.

“In this timezone, yes. Keeps her safe from any sort of uprising I suppose, when all other races are dead.“ Missy replied.

“But when I first met her, she’d been to Sontar, there was still blood on her hands…“ The Doctor frowned.

“The Empire doesn’t just exist in space but also time, Doctor.“ Missy swung her legs out of bed, sitting up on the side properly. “Here, in this time, the universe is pretty much over. Gallifrey is the perfect fortress, perfectly safe when so few are able to travel in time anymore.“ She explained. “The generals watch the time streams. Whenever any civilisation that she’s conquered diverges from its predetermined course of obedience she can just jump into her TARDIS, arrive early, and set things right.“

“Right…“ It was the perfect set up, pretty fool proof. The Doctor started pacing, trying to find something useful in the new information.

“She thinks of everything. We can’t go anywhere because there is nowhere to go and without time travel…“ Missy shrugged. “And even if we had it, the Council would be on us like a hawk. Not that anyone can fly her TARDIS anyway…“

“That’s it! That’s where we need to start, Missy, you’re brilliant!“ The Doctor exclaimed as an idea struck. She hadn’t paid enough attention to the world around her. Picking up on the things that were different but also those that were the same or reversed. A plan was forming in her head.

“What?“ Missy had no idea what she was talking about.

“I have an idea Missy, and I need you to trust me. It’s a bit risk but I think this could work. I think I’ve worked this place out at last.“ The Doctor turned to her, full of excitement.

“You’re not making any sense, Doctor.“ Missy chuckled, marvelling at her endless positivity.

“You’re gonna hate this but I’m gonna need to get back into the palace.“ The Doctor gave her an apologetic smile.

“Doctor…“ Missy sighed, it was a terrible idea.

“Gonna need a change of clothes too, and a way in that they won’t expect…“ The Doctor carried on. Suddenly, in the far off in the distance, a bell tolled and both of them froze.

“That’s…“ Missy got to her feet unsettled.

“A Cloister Bell…“ The Doctor nodded, recognising the distinctive sound.

“They only toll when disaster is drawing near…“ Missy said and the Doctor, despite everything, smiled.

“I just thought of a way to get us back into the palace.“

“Us?“ Missy raised her eyebrows.

“Oh yes, you’re coming with me. I will explain on the way!“

——

Drowsily River rolled over in bed, pulling the covers closer around herself. She was cold, falling asleep naked and sweaty, her body had cooled out. She stretched her hand out, looking for her wife to cuddle into her for some warmth but the bed was cold beside her. Sleepily River sat up, slowly she was coming to her senses, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Her wife’s side of the bed was empty.

“Sweetie?“ She called into the darkness but no response. She swung her legs out of bed and nearly tripped as she got up in her sleepy state but her wife’s absence alarmed her. She found her balance after a few steps and grabbed her dressing gown from the chair by her dresser. “Sweetie?“ She called again, worry sweeping through her, as she walked into the adjoining room. Her eyes fell on the TARDIS, the door slightly ajar. She walked to the door and pushed it open. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found her wife sitting by the console, tinkering with bolts, screws and cogs.

“Is everything okay, Sweetie?“ River asked and the Emperor looked up surprised, she hadn’t noticed her coming in.

“Sorry, did I wake you?“ The Emperor gave an apologetic smile.

“I just turned round and you weren’t there, I got worried…“ River admitted, pulling her nightgown closer around herself feeling cold still.

“Just thinking…“ The Emperor replied giving a dismissive wave to the equipment around her. River smiled a little. Her wife used to do this a lot. When she had a problem to solve, she would retreat into her TARDIS and fix or make things, it helped her focus.

“Is everything okay? Something I can help with?“ River asked.

“Everything is fine.“ The Emperor said getting to her feet.

“And yet you can’t sleep.“ River observed. She clearly was worried about whatever Clara and the Doctor could be up to. Before the Emperor could respond, a bell tolled in the distance and they both froze. “Was that…“

“A Cloister Bell. They haven’t rung in years…“ The Emperor was halfway out the TARDIS before River could even respond. “We are in much greater danger than we realise.“ This was proof that the nagging thoughts, the undercurrent of worry, she had been feeling, were justified.

“Something must be happening.“ River agreed as she followed. The Emperor was already throwing clothes on.

“I'm going to go see the Council.“ She said pulling on trousers quickly. “You stay here.“ She insisted when River went looking for clothes as well.

“But…“ River looked around confused. She had never told her to stay behind before. She tried her best not to feel hurt.

“Seriously, don’t argue.“ The Emperor interrupted her buttoning up her shirt in a hurry. “I need to know you’re safe, you stay here.“

——

“What was that?“ Yaz demanded to know entering with palace’s security office. Ryan and Graham were following close behind. It was the middle of the night, there were off duty, but the entire city had heard the bell.  

“A Cloister Bell, Ma’am.“ One of the officers on duty answered as they all jumped to their feet saluting.

“They have been silent for years, give me eyes on the Cloisters.“ She demanded as she stepped up to the screens.

“The sliders are getting increasingly more active. They’re sensing something is wrong, something is going to happen.“ Graham observed as they brought up footage from the Cloisters on the screens. Shapes were moving among the shadows and the fog.

“This is not a coincidence.“ Ryan agreed.

“I’m going to take a team down there. Find out what’s going on.“ Yaz decided. They had to find out what was going on. It was as good a place as any to start.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? No-one that goes into the Cloisters comes back out.“ Graham grabbed her arm as she walked past them.

“Legend says there is a hidden exit into the city, it could be how the Doctor is getting about. I’m going to check it out.“ Yaz shook him off. They had to find the Doctor. “In the meantime, one of you inform the Emperor and keep guard, the other keep an eye on Clara Oswald.“

——

“What is going on?“ The Emperor burst into the Council chamber with purpose and determination. The Cloisters indicated this was the greatest threat they had faced in years and she wasn’t about to let anything jeopardise her reign.

“Emperor…“ The generals had gathered upon her command, some only filing in after her, some still fumbling with the buttons of their council robes. She wasn’t impressed.

“Wake up you mumbling fools, a Cloister Bell has rung, what is going on?“ She smashed her hand onto the table for emphasis. “You are tasked with protecting the Empire, what is going on? Are we under attack?“

“Nothing, as far as we can tell. Everything is quiet, no unexpected developments across the time streams…“ One of the council members spoke up. “The city is quiet as well, since you went amongst the people, they have grown more… respectful.“

“Are you absolutely sure?“ The Emperor pressed on focusing on him. He seemed to be wide awake at least in comparison to some of the others. They took turns with the night shifts, there was no need for everyone to be present all the time.

“See for yourself Emperor, the time streams are quite, your personal guards have taken it upon themselves to see if anything is the matter in the Cloisters themselves.“ Another general spoke up and by raising his hands from the table, he brought the readings up into the air for everyone to see.

“Things might not be happening yet but they will. The Bells are a warning, foreboding, prophecy…“ The Emperor mumbled leaning onto the table observing the time streams herself. They were right, everything looked completely normal so it had to be something happening here, on Gallifrey. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to wait for Clara to make her move after all.

“If you’re concerned about something happening, we can postpone tomorrow’s celebrations?“ Another general suggested.

“No. That would be a sign of weakness.“ She shook her head vehemently. “Everything will go ahead as planned…“ She straightened herself up again and a thought occurred to her. “In fact, not as planned. Round up ten civilians that have acted out in some way. And Missy. I want Missy.“ She decided.

“What for?“ Another council member asked, sounding concerned.

“Is it any of your business?!“ The Emperor snapped glaring at him. She couldn’t stand people questioning an order.

“I just meant if we should organise anything else or…“ He carried on in a small voice averting his eyes.

“Just do as you’re told.“ She growled. “I’ll be in my quarters, if there is only the slightest change or cause for concern, I expect to be informed.“

——

“You’ve done this before…“ Missy mumbled as they pressed themselves to a pillar to avoid a cloister wraith that headed in their direction.

“So have you…“ The Doctor observed with a smile. “I’m beginning to think we have a lot more in common than I realised. I think you lived through some of the same things I have, our roles are reversed in some ways.“ She explained as they waited for the wraith to move past. She had been so focused on wrapping her head around her own situation, she hadn’t really stopped to think about the history of the people she encountered.

“So it seems…“ Missy agreed. As she looked back at the Doctor she felt unsettled. They had dressed her to look like the Emperor and it was unnerving.

“About the confessionary dial…“ The Doctor said quietly as they carried on. “I came the long way around too…“ They ducked behind another pillar. “What kept you going? There was this moment when I realised what had been done to me, what they were trying to do… and I was about to give up…“ In a way, knowing Missy had been through the same thing as her, allowed her to talk about it for the first time.

“But then you realised you couldn't just let them win. You had to keep going.“ Missy agreed with a small smile as they carried on.

“Who were you doing it for?“ The Doctor asked.

“Myself? I knew I had to be better than this. I couldn’t let her win.“ Missy shrugged.

“I guess you’re right… I thought I… I thought I was doing it for Clara at the time, she had just died and I wanted to find a way to save her, so I had to get out of there… but now, I just think I wanted her to be proud of me. I wanted to be the Doctor. And I couldn't let the bad guys win.“ The Doctor answered after brief consideration.

“So here we are, braving the Cloisters.“ Missy chuckled. “But at least you know what you’re doing it for.“

“Not just for River, if that’s what you think. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had already managed to find a way out of her predicament, she doesn't need me to look after her, not really. I’m doing it for the same reason as you.“ The Doctor felt the need to explain.

“Cause we can’t let the bad guys win.“ Missy smiled and reached out for the Doctor’s hand. “I am so glad that I met you, even if we never should have, not really… I’m really very grateful that you are here, whether we succeed or not.“ She gave her hand a squeeze and the Doctor smiled.

Suddenly up ahead the wraiths grew more agitated. In the distance they saw an elevator door slide open, revealing several royal guards, weapons drawn.

“Right, let’s see what’s going on down here.“ The Doctor recognised Yaz’s voice immediately and she pulled Missy behind a pillar.

The Cloister Bells tolled again.

——

River was pacing their quarters, she couldn’t sit still. The situation was unnerving. There was no way you could go back to sleep so she had gotten dressed instead. She could just go to find her wife, this was ridiculous. There was no immediate danger.

“Right, that’s it.“ She huffed getting fed up and made her way to the bedroom. She walked to her dresser where, among other things, she kept her gun. It had been a while since she’d last made use of it but she appreciated her wife’s concern for her safety. It couldn’t hurt to carry it.

She was just exchanging the battery pack, when she heard the door to their quarters open. Her wife returning at last, she thought, as she breathed a sigh of relief.

“In the bedroom!“ She called out and put the gun back on the dresser.

“That’s quite the invitation… Mind you, I’ve always been curious what it would be like to sleep with myself.“

River whirled around and found herself face to face with an exactly copy of herself. In the distance, another bell tolled.

#Mirror Universe #fanfiction #river song #river x thirteen #river x the doctor #thirteen/river #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #missy #thoschei friendship #femslash #gallifrey #cloister wraiths #Through the looking glass #dark!13 #action/adventure #space wives #yowzah

[ragingpancake]

As I Lay Sleeping: Ch. 2 - Sanctuary

Chapter 1

“It’s about time you woke up.” The sun is bright and harsh from the moment John steps outside and he has to lift a hand to help shield his face from its glow. The voice is familiar, he thinks, or it should be and it washes over him like an old song with words he can’t remember, just the melody. “You heard it, didn’t you?” A question, sure, but John thinks she already knows the answer and it’s unsettling because when he lowers his hand, eyes finally adjusted to the light, he peers into hazel eyes and realizes that she knows him. “He said that this would happen. That when it was time, she would call to you.” She holds his gaze for a moment, and she looks hopeful, like she’s just waiting for some spark of recognition, but it never comes. Her face falls just a fraction before she smiles, and he feels so wholly unworthy of that in this moment that it leaves him shifting from one foot to the next a little uncomfortably. “Well, that’s okay,” she says gently, diplomatically. “Rodney said that it was possible this would happen too. Tell me, what exactly do you remember, John?”

Nothing. He remembers a whole lot of nothing and he thinks, based on the look she’s giving him, she already knows that. “Listen, I’d really like to stay and chat, but I’ve got somewhere I need to be.” “Oh really?” She asks, eyebrow raised. “And where’s that?” Okay, she’s got him there. “I can help you, John. That’s why I’m here, to do just that. To help you try to remember. But in order for me to do that, you’re going to have to trust me a little.” Trust. It feels foreign to him, but in the same way that he knows that she’s familiar, he knows that he can trust her. Like maybe he has, before. He thinks back to the voice that spoke to him in the hut, the one that she seems to know. Had she heard it too, then? “Elizabeth,” he says and for a second, her eyes light up and she gives him a smile so genuine that something shifts inside of him. “Yes, that’s right. Very good, John. I’m Elizabeth and a very long time ago, we used to work together. On Atlantis.” Atlantis. Home. Those two words are synonymous with each other, John knows, and it’s the first thing since he woke up that he can be sure of. “Why am I here?” He asks. “Where exactly is here?” Elizabeth gestures for him to follow and from where he’s standing, it’s not like he’s got much of a choice. He has no idea where –-or who—he is, and she seems to be the only one who can provide him with some answers. At least for now, where she goes, he has no choice but to follow. --- They don’t walk for very long. She leads him down to the tree line he hadn’t noticed when he’d first stepped out into the light. There’s a large tree, and it looks like maybe it’s a place she comes often. There are a few logs that she leads him over to and as she sits, she gestures for him to do the same. “Your name,” she says, “is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard of the United States Airforce. We met when you joined the Atlantis Expedition.” She pauses for a moment and he tries to remember, but it’s all still blank. “You were my military commander, leader of our Alpha Gate Team and you were... well, you were my friend.” She gives a small smile, one that seems sad. “We’ve been through a lot together, John. The Pegasus Galaxy, as beautiful as it is, came with plenty of dangers that we were not prepared for. Dangers that we never even saw coming.” “Immediately after arriving in Atlantis, you and a team led by Colonel Marshall Sumner traveled to a nearby planet through what we call a Stargate. It was there that for the first time, we encountered the Wraith. It was then that we... well. I suppose for many, that would’ve been the beginning of the end. But not for you.” Elizabeth is quiet for a moment, lost in her own thoughts like she’s a million miles away. “Elizabeth?” He prompts. “We lost a lot of good people,” she says and her voice is hoarse, thick with emotion. When she glances back up at him, there are unshed tears in her eyes, but she swipes them away almost angrily. “We spent nearly three years fighting the Wraith, doing what we could to protect the people of Atlantis—to protect Earth but it wasn’t... It was never going to be enough.” “Three years after waking the Wraith, after fighting them off of our doorstep more times than we could count, they were bearing down on us. We evacuated the city, got as many people out as we could.” “But we didn’t win.” John doesn’t need his memory to know that; he can see it written all over her face. “No,” she agrees. “No, we did not win. But we didn’t lose, either. Not yet.” John’s not sure what she means by that but before he gets a chance to ask, she’s speaking again. “We are on M7-X732, otherwise known as the Planet of the Cloister,” she says. “It had been abandoned for about a year before we brought you here.” In the sky, the sun is fading and there’s a chill that fills the air. He can feel it, but Elizabeth doesn’t even seem to notice. “You were mortally wounded during the last stand in Atlantis, John. Rodney had come up with a plan in the eleventh hour, like he

always did. The Wraith had woken because we’d inadvertently woken their Queen. They wake when she wakes, they slumber when she slumbers. He needed more time though. You were the one to give it to him and you nearly paid for it with your life.” Hazel eyes flicker to meet his. “That was nearly one hundred years ago.” “That’s not possible,” John rasps and Elizabeth gives him the smallest of smiles. “I can assure you, John, had you not lost your memories, you would know very well that it is. Anything is possible when it comes to Rodney.” She gestures around them. “You got trapped here once. A time dilation field. By the time Rodney had figured it out, you’d spent six months with the people of the Cloister and it was a world where we knew you’d be safe.” “This doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense.” “I know,” Elizabeth says. “And I’m sorry for that.” She reaches for him then, thin fingers curling around his wrist. “You were put into Stasis, John. The intention was to keep you there until the very last moment, to give you the time you needed to heal. Rodney ensured that no one would find this place, that you would be left undisturbed until it was time for you to wake.” “Wake for what? You said he figured it out, right? This Rodney guy. What do you need me for?” “As we speak, Rodney is back on Atlantis in a Stasis pod of his own. It was a design we took from the Aurora, a sort of shared consciousness so to speak. A virtual reality. For the last one hundred years, he’s shared a reality with the hibernating Wraith Queen, keeping her from waking, keeping the hives from waking.” “He’s losing, John. She’s figured it out, Rodney always knew she would, but he’d hoped it would give you enough time to heal.” “I don’t-- what am I supposed to do?” He can’t even remember his own favorite color, how was he supposed to remember how to find Atlantis, how was he supposed to remember what to do? “Find him,” Elizabeth says. “Find them. Even now, if Rodney’s theories were right, there are sixty hive ships in hibernation just outside of Lantea’s orbit. Find Atlantis. Control the chair. Destroy them all while they sleep.” Well, doesn’t sound like that’s asking for too much. Given the fact that, you know, these things apparently almost killed him a century ago.  “And what if I can’t do what you’re asking? If I couldn’t do it before, what makes you think I can do it now?”  “When you and Rodney made your last stand, you two were alone, John.” Elizabeth stands and for a moment, turns her back to him. “Spread across four worlds, you will find sarcophagi containing exactly what you need. It would be reckless to try to return to Atlantis now, without your weapons, without your memories. Find each sarcophagus and save our home.” She turns and John is taken aback by how much older she looks now. How... frail she appears. “And what... what about you?” She gives him a rueful smile. “I’ve done my part, John. I’ve watched and I’ve waited for a very long time; I’m very tired now.” She sits down on the log and John pitches forward off of his own, gripping her shoulders gently to keep her upright. “Elizabeth...” “It’s alright.” A wrinkled hand comes up to rest on his cheek and it’s so familiar that John closes his eyes, savoring it for half a second. “I would tell you to be brave, but that’s all you’ve ever been.” “I don’t know where to go,” he says, and there’s panic rising in his chest with each passing moment as she fades away. “Climb the mountain. Go through the cave. I’ll keep the door open long enough for you to pass through. Let... Let Atlantis guide you.” It’s time to go, John.  The voice in his head is gentle, mournful and he wonders if Elizabeth can hear it too.  He shifts on his knees and he reaches for her, guiding her into his arms carefully before he lays her down against the soft grass. “I’m so sorry, Elizabeth,” because he knows, somehow in his heart, that it’s his wakening that’s caused this. Hazel eyes meet his one last time as a peaceful smile touches her

lips. “When you... find Rodney,” she manages, voice so soft that he almost can’t hear, “tell him... I always knew... it would work.” And then, in much the same way as it was when he awoke in that hut, John Sheppard is alone.

AN: I took some liberties with a few things, mostly the time dilation field and you know, the whole One Wraith Queen to rule them all thing, but I figured since it's an AU... well. Forgive me, please.

#fic: as i lay sleeping #sga/breath of the wild #sga au #john sheppard #rodney mckay #elizabeth weir #ronon dex #teyla emmagan #carson beckett #aiden ford #sga fic #fandom: sga #mcshep #pairing: mcshep #warning: character death

[slashthedice]

H-Hewwo..have you done jealous HCs for the DBD killers? If you have, maybe some angsty HCs? I'm specifically asking for Frank, Wraith, Trapper, and Huntress if that's okay with you. ❤💕 Much love! 💕❤

I have not done jealous HCs before but I definitely can! Slight NSFW below :3c

Frank Morrison

Frank is easily jealous. He’s far and away one of the most jealous killers on the roster. His reaction to jealousy is also one of the least understanding. He will immediately seek to isolate you from the source of his jealousy and make sure all of your attention is on him.

The Wraith

Philip is... quietly jealous. Instead of being all over you in the way that Frank or Evan are, he withdraws. He lets his feelings simmer while he bottles them up and pushes them away. Reassurance is your best bet for bringing him back to normal-- if you can figure out what’s wrong in the first place, that is.

The Trapper

Evan’s jealousy happens in stages. First he’s annoyed, then he gets pissed. He’ll try to push down the acrid and volatile feelings, but eventually he’s going to snap. Angry hatefucking is absolutely not out of the realm of possibility for what happens next, and you will be the most bruised and sore you have ever been afterwards.

Huntress

Anna never learned to withhold or conceal her feelings, so you’re going to know right away when she is jealous. She will tell you that she wants you to stay away from the source of her jealousy, and she will do her best to convince you to cloister in her home with her. Even if you aren’t too keen on the idea, she’s going to keep you with her by any means necessary.

#the legion #the legion x reader #frank morrison #frank morrison x reader #the wraith #the wraith x reader #philip ojomo #philip ojomo x reader #the trapper #the trapper x reader #evan macmillan #evan macmillan x reader #the huntress #the huntress x reader #dbd anna #dbd headcanons #DBD #asks #anon #smut

[rowanthestrange]

Ok on one level I understand how people don’t want the Doctor to be ‘special’ to the Time Lords. But the thing is, they have ALWAYS been different, and extraordinary, and weird, and 'special’ to your regular Gallifreyan. That’s straight-up the majority of canon when it comes to the Doctor’s interaction with the Time Lords.

-Even in the second go around, they were a “highborn Gallifreyan” “born to wealth and privilege”.

-There are a bunch of rumours about them.

-Stories that they are a reincarnation of The Other.* (EDA)

-A load of prophecies. Some since the earliest days of the Matrix.

-Whispers are that they’re half-human, you know.

-They were a bizarre child. Some said a changeling.

-They grew up proving that - surviving the cloister wraiths, escaping the Citadel in a way no-one ever had - “Never right again, they said”.

-They became a Time Lord. -Rose to high ranks before their exile.

-They stole a TARDIS.

-Stole the moon and the President’s wife - no sorry, his daughter, that was a lie put about by the Shobogans.

-Not even Time Lords but Outlanders seem to know him by instinct (even when they’re not dressed like a clown for a change).

-They’re the one who started wars. And ended them.

-Destroyed and saved their own planet along with countless others.

-Has survived the most vicious battles. “Lord President, he's a war hero.”

-”There was a saying, sir, in the Time War ... The first thing you will notice about the Doctor of War is he's unarmed. For many, it's also the last.”

-They have been President how many times?

-They launched a coup and kicked the founder of the Time Lords off his own planet.

-There probably isn’t a child on Gallifrey that doesn’t know their name.

The Doctor has only ever been average to themselves - they’re the one that tries to push ‘oh I’m just a silly old bean who stole a TARDIS and ran away’, that’s not even canonically what happened - and average to the Master who tried to keep their planet-sized ego in check by telling them how thick they are. Every Time Lord we have ever met who hadn’t personally dealt with them before, treated them with some measure of anxiety, fear, awe, respect or all of the above. (Of course once they knew him, eh. But they sure knew he was weird.)

The change in canon isn’t that the Doctor is now considered something different and special. Because they always have been, to everyone, and that’s one of the reasons why the Master’s so mad - because literally everyone else was right all along, and he was the one who was wrong.

The difference is that for the first time we, the audience, now believe that too.

So if you knew all of the above already, and your perspective is that the Timeless Child story was an act of abuse committed against a refugee child who had no control over any of it, then canon didn’t shift that much for you, because the Doctor is still special to the Time Lords, and is no more special (but certainly more unfortunate), to you.

Though if you’d forgotten or never knew how the universe and the Time Lords have always treated the Doctor as special, then this was probably a rockier ride. And if - like the Master - you never believed it, your anger/frustration that it’s real is probably similar to his, and will only abate when you stop choosing to categorise them as such.

But there’s no fundamental change of the character’s place in the universe, because the Doctor has always been the special, shiny, scary, snowflake to everyone and everything around them.

It’s called Doctor Who after all.

#doctor who #doctor who analysis #the timeless child #guess who had some salt and now doesn’t feel dizzy any more #and did this while waiting for my game to download #and then just sort of kept going #feel free to ignore #(chibnall is all about forcing the audience to examine themselves) #(their biases) #(their hypocrisies) #(13 is more closed off than 12) #(people can’t see it because young pretty woman) #(percy shelley vs the timeless child’s deaths to save species) #(one you agree with and one you don’t - but are the same) #(a female doctor at all) #(a black female doctor) #(that the master reflects certain fans so well) #(isn’t accident but design) #(the underlying theme of chib who is:) #(examine your assumptions and biases: engage with the truth) #(and everyone who’s comfortable with the timeless child) #(and hating tectuen) #(oh honey you’ve also got a big storm coming) #(cus he’s gonna make you engage with how) #(she was desperate to save her dying species) #(it’s a good story) #(engage with truth and nuance) #(or chibnall gonna fuck you up)

[sacredvein]

@count-v-dracula

C'est la mort — ou la morte… O délice! ô tourment! La rose qu'elle tient, c'est la Rose trémière.

He knows him at once for what he is, a moon-drop face cloistered amongst the living; the gleam of preturnatural eyes refracting the beam light across the battens. It has been a century since the Théâtre des Vampires first took to terrorizing Parisian society with their macabre guignol - moving like silk puppets in plaster masques, miming impossible grotesqueries: monsters playing at men. Their wayward brothers and sisters in the blood have long been drawn to their ugly curiosities, fattened parasites latched to the swollen vein of Paris’ heart. They have feasted on horrors for an age.

Laurent slides into a low, courtly bow at the denouement, the fall of Morningstar cast from the Heavenly Host - violins wailing as souls from the pit. Once their audience had been a riot of libertines in stockings and revolutionary cockades - now it was gentlefolk in button coats and satin, but still the human thirst for miseries rivaled their own. How coddled they are, safe in their velvet seats and dreaming of the debauched. Laurent stares boldly at the vampire among the crowd from under his lashes; a look at once demure and knowing, a voiceless invitation of understanding.

He knows him — and smiles, vanishing like a wraith behind the carmine close of the final curtain. He moves through the clever false walls of the theatre like Prospero’s airy spirit, pressing his hands open the discrete inner panel to slide through the trompe l'oeil depth of the Savage Garden, to intercept the audience as they are flushed from the theatre. To intercept him.

“Monsieur,” Laurent murmurs solicitously, pressing a hand to his heart as he sketches a nod, “If I might impress upon your company for a moment?”

#countvdracula #verse: theatre.

[gotyouanyway]

if you liked the cloister wraiths you’d love the banshee circuit

#they’re basically the same #p

[renegadepropaganda]

Can we talk to one of the Cloister Wraiths?

I’m not authorized to go into the Matrix but I’ve heard they aren’t pleasant conversationalists anyway.

[gatlinnterrasen]

Update: Cloister Wraith Prank

Recently, I was made aware that Belladonna was partaking in an "April Fools' Joke" in which she dressed up as a Cloister Wraith and proceeded to scare several students and even a teacher before being caught by several other teachers (all of whom assumed they were dealing with an ACTUAL Slider). She was since disciplined as per the Academy's ways. I'm so proud of her, and of her friends. One of them got the outfit, the other did the makeup. I won't say who, for they have not been caught yet. Plus, I don't know who they are.

#belladonna's school days

[theother-timelesschild]

Doctor 12: Thinks Gallifrey is Lost.

Missy says she knows where Gallifrey is.

Question: is it possible that Missy knew about The Timeless Child?

Missy learns to make Cybermen of the human Dead.

Question: Was this prep for The Master making Cybermen of the Timelord Dead? Or to show the Doctor that it could be done? After all Bill was turned into a Cyberman after being shot through....

Simm!Master ended up on Gallifrey, (That would be how Missy knows Gallifrey’s location) and he got kicked off world, mutually. That could have been when he had the opportunity to search the Matrix, learn about The Timeless Child. All that time at the end of the mondas ship and the creation of the Cybermen, and the Doctor showed Simm!Master that Cybermen could be made to see timelords as compatible, redefining human to have 2 hearts...

Bill and Pilot Heather got the Doctor off the ship, but she didn’t take Missy... Missy was last seen dying outside the lift.

Missy has been “up and down the Doctors timeline”....is Missy after or before Dhawan!Master? Simms!Master shot Missy in the back and got away. So say the Masters order was actually Simm!Master => Dhawan!Master => Gomez!Master.

Missy gave the Doctor an Army of Cybermen, “Go on Crack a Smile”. Same line Dhawan!Master used toward the Doctor. Missy needs the Doctor to know they aren’t so different, wants her friend back. What if that were true, but because her younger self Destroyed Gallifrey, she need to picks a younger versioned the Doctor, so picks 11/12, before the Doctor finds out about everything, after all She set Clara on a path to meet 11....and to stay traveling with 12.

Danny Pink called the Doctor 12 a “Blood Soaked Old General” later onMars 12 said he wished he didn’t think like a Warrior.

Question: is The Doctor Ko Sharmus? He did at least seem TimeLordly.....to be back in a TARDIS.

Doctor 12: “I am an Idiot, with a Box, and a screwdriver, passing through, helping out, learning. Doesn’t need an Army, ‘cause I’ve got them, Love is a promise.”

Question: with Missy’s Cybermen Army, could they have been used against the Master’s CyberMasters?

Missy gives the Doctor coordinates of Gallifrey, back where it belonged, the Doctor Never looked. So,then He looked, but it wasn’t there.....yet? Its location given as the extreme end of the time continuum, the Doctor went the long way round 4.5 billion years.

What is The Hybrid?

“A creature thought to be crossbred from warrior races.

Unstoppable according to the stories.

All Matrix prophecies confirm that this creature will, one day, stand in the ruins of Gallifrey.

It will unravel the web of time and destroy a Billion-Billion hearts to heal its own.”

ME and the Doctor talk: The Cloister Wraith are said to have told the Doctor Who the hybrid was, and The Doctor ran away from Gallifrey because the Doctor was afraid of themselves.

It seems to be Dhawan!Master was the Hybrid....except the Masters hearts didn’t seemed healed, but maybe Missy’s was......

Although the prophesy doesn’t say the Hybrid caused the ruins, just that they stood in the ruins of Gallifrey ... the web of time...the secret of the timeless child... to the destroy a Billion-Billion hearts could be those of the CyberMasters.... it was Ko Sharmus with a death particle in the panopticon!!!

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #the doctor #twelfth doctor #peter capaldi #jodie whittaker #the master