asgardmeridiem | (no subject)

[ It's compulsory, at this point, to seek them all out. Each of her friends in turn, every few days, hours. Her nightmares whisper things that could happen- have happened? She isn't sure anymore.

At the moment, all she knows, is that the soft-spoken Eighth Doctor has been out of her sights for far too long. Come out, come out, wherever you are. ]

Edited 2013-09-20 01:35 (UTC)

[Eight has been pretty much all over the place, finding little hiding places all over the city to protect everyone from whatever he might do once his brain got too fatigued to stay alert and aware. One by one his hiding places were starting to get destroyed, however. The Library, one of the rooms of the Comfort House nobody was using...and he had no idea if he'd done it. He still doesn't. They are large targets after all.

This time, he wakes sometime mid-afternoon from this day's fugue and stares down at the dry, brown-red streaks on his hands. What happened this time?

He looks around to find out where he is this time -- the Dark Carnival apparently -- and his eyes fall on Rose.

No. No, she can't get near him. It's not safe.]

Rose, don't come any closer, please.

Edited 2013-09-20 21:28 (UTC)

[ To her credit, she does stop when she finds him, when he asks, midstep and worried. But no, she knows what he's doing, and slowly her head begins to shake. ]

No, no you don't get t'do that. You're human, like me, now. I can take care'f myself.

[ So she continues forward, albeit a little slower than when she'd initially spotted him. It had been pure chance, she imagines, finding him all the way out here. The last time she'd been ... well, she'd gotten lost looking for the version of him that came right after. Fenrir had been around, that time. ]

[That single heart clenches in his chest and his face is a mask of hurt.]

Yes, damn it, I'm human, and still not used to it. I don't know what I'd to do you if you came too close with this madness in my brain. Being human, I need sleep, and none of us are getting it...so I'm afr--

Please, Rose. Don't.

[He takes more steps back from her.]

I know my self defence. They teach that at Torchwood, you know. I went for the extra classes.

[ She knew what that last word would have been. She knows how much they all hate the species change; she'd probably hate it, too. But he's being childish, and at this point, though she might not say it, she's almost more concerned for him than she is about her own wellbeing. And not for the reasons you'd think. ]

It's not us doin' it. Pretty sure it's not. Somethings possessing us. ... Dont' you want to find out what it is?

[ She darts her tongue out to wet her lips, trying to distract him (with words, not her tongue). They spoke of adventure before, hadn't they? ]

[He backs up another step, and finds himself colliding with a nearby fence. Back pressed tight to the fence, he closed his eyes, balling his hands into fists at his sides to get them to stop shaking.

When he opens her eyes again, his gaze go to the darting tongue and he snaps his eyes closed again. Yes, her words are distracting, but the tongue doesn't help. He is a human man right now after all.]

Y-yes, but not...not until I get myself under some sort of control.

[His voice rises in pitch and comes out as a desperate plea.]

Rose, please.

[ What, you don't like her tongue being a distraction? Rude as hell, Eight. Just rude as hell. ~~Or Heaven, depending on the Supernatural fandom.~~

But only when his voice raises in pitch, turns just a touch more desperate, does she actually come to a stop. She's frowning of course, but she's stopped. ]

You are in control. You're practically trying to phase through the fence t'get away from me. I'd say that's pretty In Control.

[He likes it just a little too much. That's the problem.]

B-barely.

[Eight holds up his hands which are streaked with blood.]

I lose my concentration or go into a trance-like state, and I have no idea what I'll do. I can't...I just can't.

[His hands suddenly snap out and grab her by the shoulders, his blue eyes burning with desperation and an intense need to get her to understand.]

You're not safe around me!

Edited (I phrased something wrong. Oops.) 2013-09-21 03:02 (UTC)

[ She does look at his hands, streaked as they are; it doesn't really seem to bother her too much. Perhaps because she's seen such things before, or because this whole state they've fallen into is just numbing her to everything. Or perhaps because her own hands have found themselves in a similar state just recently. ]

I don't--

[ But then he has her by the shoulders, rattling her just slightly, so desperate to persuade her. Not safe, he says. Somehow that doesn't sound right. He's the one who isn't safe these days, at least around her, isn't he? Her eyes are distant suddenly, like she doesn't care what he's saying. But her arms are up, jerking between them and out, dislodging his grip- and then she's shoving at him; they're close enough still to the fence that he'll hit it (should hit it) with a fair amount of force. A move like that and you'd expect words to follow it up.

There aren't any. ]

[His head connecting with the wooden fence gives a nice, satisfying crack. Eight blinks several times to chase the stars away and stares at Rose in woozy confusion.]

...Rose? Rose, snap out of it.

[ If only it were that simple, then perhaps this Doctor wouldn't have blood dried and caked on his own hands. But she steps forward again, reaching for him, grabbing for him... his throat. She's trying to get her hands around his throat, a furious calm sort of look on her face as she does.

It isn't simply for scare, either. She intends to suffocate him if he doesn't act. Her stance might be strong, but the height is wrong for it. She's acting as if she's taller, could overpower him with more ease than she should. It could be easy to trip her up. ]

[Being only three inches taller than her, the height difference is not as bad as it seems. There's less leverage than if he'd been her height, but far more than if she'd been trying to strangle any of the other Doctors who are all over six feet tall. Poor little Eight is not nearly as lucky.

He sucks in a wheezing breath, oh-so-gently wrapping his fingers around her wrists.]

Rose. Rose, wake up.

[He is taking extra care, terrified that if he uses too much force, he'll lose that tenuous control he has over himself. He can't hurt her. He can't. He'd rather risk dying.

His fingers squeeze tighter on her wrists and tries to pull her hands away, croaking out painfully.]

ROSE. Wake. UP!

[ For all his gentleness does, it doesn't seem to be having the desired effect. In fact, all it seems to do is egg her onward, to grit her teeth a little, to squeeze a little harder, to suddenly jerk him forward and back once, to slam him against the fence post once more. Twice more.

And then she jerks back, as if burnt, a gasp choking out of her throat with enough force that she might actually start hacking. Instead, she's nearly tumbling over herself in an attempt to get back from him, to keep to herself. Again, it happened again-- And she'd come to check if he was alright... ]

I'm sorry I'm sorry--

[Eight's lungs burn with the struggle for air, and with the final squeeze, his throat closes completely, leaving him unable to speak let alone breathe.

Then blinding pain flashes across his skull as it is slammed again and again into the fence post. He barely notices the warm trickle of blood down the back of his neck.

When she lets him go, his body slides down the fence to fall in a crumpled heap, only able to moan softly in response to her words.]

Edited (Tenses. Wee!) 2013-09-21 06:31 (UTC)

[ She's torn, so fucking torn. She wants to run away, to hide herself from everyone and keep them safe. But she can't, because he's slid down, he's hurt and though it's her fault, she's burning with the need to go to him, as she always has been.

In the end, even her own good judgement loses that battle, just as it always has. She drops heavily to her knees next to him, and stops. Her hands hover, but she doesn't want to touch- not yet. Even if, logically, she's figured out there's a time distance between these ... states. She shouldn't be slipping out of it again for a while, if she does. ]

L.. Let me see?

[ The quietest voice, but she's too terrified to try and move him herself, yet. ]

[Sleep. Sleep might actually be a think that can happen now. It's so tempting just to close his eyes and drift off into that elusive rest.

No, no sleeping, Doctor. Sleep now, and you might not wake up again. Or, at least, you'll wake up with Hel being very annoyed with you. And the TARDIS will bite you again.

He forces himself to stay conscious, and his eyes flutter open. His hand goes to the back of his head, and he stares at it with only vague awareness of the blood coating his fingers.

When she speaks, he turns his head to look up at her, not quite able to focus properly on her face.]

R-Rose?

[The voice comes out in a hoarse whisper, his throat still sore from being choked.]

[ She can't let herself cry, not right now. It's not time for another Rose Tyler pity-party for god's sake. Not when he's hurt ~~even if it's her fault~~. She needs to get her bracelet to her vision so she can spin through her 'speed dial' contact list, 006; Sixth Doctor. A quick message for him, and she's shutting it off again.

Except this time she seems... a little more keen on getting her hands on him. And not in the awful way she just had. ]

S'me, Doctor. It's Rose. Look at me, you stay awake, you hear me? Eyes open.

Stayin' 'wake. Yes.

[His eyes focus just a bit more on her face and he tries to give her a smile.]

Yes, ma'am.

[He reaches out his hand, then remembers the blood and pulls it back.]

What 'bout you? You 'wake now?

[ She knows what his mind is connecting when he pulls his hand away, so she reaches forward and takes it anyway. If he protests? Well, she'll tell him to shut it.

But she nods at his question, even just barely letting a smile touch her lips at his 'ma'am'. Tsk. Even if she still looks like she might cry or (and) run away. ]

An' you were all worried about me gettin' hurt.

[When she takes his hand, he grips it as tight as he dares without jostling himself too much and making the pounding in his head worse. She is not going to run away.

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he grins weakly, looking a little chagrined.]

Error of judgment on my part, I s'pose. You're...very strong.

I...think I'm alright. Don't feel like getting up just yet, though. Head's pounding.

[He hisses in pain as he adjusts his body so he's no longer in quite an awkward position anymore, then moves his other hand so that he's holding her hand in both of his.]

It isn't you doing this. I know it isn't.

Edited 2013-09-21 08:27 (UTC)

[ It's ... actually oddly helpful, having him ground her like that. Ironic, isn't it? But he squeezes her hand and she stays put, seems to settle onto the ground a little better, if even just minutely. She's not entirely sure she could run off and .. leave him like this.

No, she's absolutely certain she couldn't. She winces with him as he shifts, unconsciously letting her thumb ghost against the skin of his knuckles or thumb, whichever happens to be under her touch. And then he speaks again and she looks startled, quite suddenly. ]

It was still-- [ But hasn't she been saying the same thing for everyone else? For Eleven? For Six, for Dean, even? Could she be such a hypocrite? Well, yes, but she was .. trying not to be. ]

[It takes him longer than he likes to find some rudimentary medical supplies and head over to the Dark Carnival, and Hel is farther from Thor than he likes, too. By the time he arrives, he's rather out of breath--but at least he's here.]

Rose?

[He spots her, and his older self, before they can reply, and comes hurrying over to them, despite his gasps for breath and without any regard for whether Rose was still dangerous.

Kneeling down, he takes a moment to assess the situation. This doesn't look good... but it could be worse. Eight appears to be awake, for one.]

Doctor, can you hear me?

[He's leaning forward as he asks, trying to get a look at the back of Eight's head, though he doesn't touch just yet.]

[He's about to respond to Rose's half-formed statement when Six appears. Oh, good. He won't have to try to tend to it himself, or drag himself to the hospital.]

'Course I can. She didn't deafen me.

[Eight leans his head forward a little to help Six get a good look at it, and groans as the movement starts a whole new round of pounding in his head. His eyes close briefly, but only to get the spinning to stop.]

Rose thought my head and the fence post should be intimately acquainted.

[His tone is light, trying to tease the guilt out of her. He knows she didn't mean it. It's the darkness that has fallen over the city in the last week. She'd never hurt him intentionally. That's one thing he's certain of.]

Keep still. [It comes out rather waspish, and the 'you idiot' is blatantly implied. His tone softens almost immediately, though, to one almost as light as Eight's when he speaks again.] Hmmm, I suppose I should be grateful, then... she only wanted to knock me down a few times.

[And well, punch him. But anyway. It's not like it's her fault.

He feels at the back of Eight's head as gently as he can, checking for anything that might indicate his head is really broken, not just bloody.]

Can you tell me where you are?

[Checking to make sure he's just stunned, not mentally compromised. He'll check for concussion in a minute, too.]

[ She's just sort of hovering here now. She doesn't want to get too close, to get in the way; sure, she has some first aid training, but when she's caused it? That's terrifying. Not a situation she's been in before. Not like this, at least.

So she sits to herself, just to the opposite side of them both, chewing upon her thumb, barely huffing a laugh at their gibes. Deafening. Yes, hilarious. ]

It was-- [ Well, she's fairly sure it hadn't been an accident at the time. ] I didn't mean to.

Edited 2013-09-21 22:22 (UTC)

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For: The Eight Doctor

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/jumps over Rose, whoops

R U D E

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