Encampment Under the Sea [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

Since the dreamers of Manhattan had such a lovely time at the last vaguely-nautical-themed party, the Rift has decided to step things up a notch. Tonight, the dreamers will find themselves in what appears to be a city very much like the one they inhabit in the waking world, full of towering skyscrapers, neon signs, and heavy traffic. But there is one rather crucial difference: this city is located deep underwater, and the aforementioned traffic is mostly whales and fish, with the occasional submersible thrown into the mix.

The walls and windows are heavily reinforced to withstand the pressure of the water outside, and the people who dwell in these buildings seem to be doing rather well for themselves, for the most part. Buildings are connected by enclosed walkways, so barring any horrible accidents, the dreamers should have no problem getting around without getting too wet.

Much like the city they inhabit in the waking world, some areas are more obviously affluent than others, and the dreamers are as likely to stumble upon an upscale club as an underwater pub. But while the chances of a full structural breakdown are slim, there are definitely some areas that are on the leaky side, and a general sense of claustrophobia pervades the city wherever you might find yourself.

Explore. Or, if you're feeling particularly ambitious, attempt to escape. Either way, take care - it's hard to say what might be lurking in the darkness just beyond the city lights.



[ooc: Y'all know the drill. All characters are welcome, whether they are in the game or not. Characters can remember or forget the events of the dreaming at the player's discretion. And the party never stops - backtag into infinity!]

Comments

[whofrownedthisface]

Well, that was a misstep, he sees that now and looks appropriately sheepish. But the damage is probably done. Probably always would have been done, and suddenly he feels very lost. It's just so wrong, for this alienation to exist at all.

"Of course it's a concern," he hurries to reassure her, and he knows the indignance isn't helping his case but he can't seem to put the brakes on it. "I just mean--Look. I want to help, of course I do. And I'm trying. By getting you to tell the one that's actually there! You're lodging your complaint with the wrong office. I'm just giving you the right address." If only she were at a place in time to understand him a little better. He'd meant so well. "I'm sorry, I know I must seem callous now. That isn't how I want you to see me." It's just such a shame, this should never be the way it is. "I'd help you if I could. Maybe I can. Maybe I will, when I wake up. I can help make a more stable connection, that's a good start. I mean, I've already found the rift in my sleep."

[theoldgirl]

Everything about this feels so horribly disjointed. His tone and words are only insulting her further; does he think she hasn't thought of communicating with the other him yet, that she hasn't used their bond and this form to make him understand her distress? And how dare he call it a complaint, the sort of thing she does when someone's graffitied her exterior or a companion pushes buttons without permission.

But at the same time she can tell this isn't what he means to do, it can't be and she can sense his contrition and helplessness. His apology is sincere and she suddenly feels like she's hurt him, failed him by not understanding him. How wrong this all is. But she can't make it right, can't reach out and make it better. She's distraught and lost, her anger draining from her to leave her earlier weary sadness.

"I told you to stay away from the rift, not go seeking it out," she argues hesitantly, though she's already considering his suggestion. If another version of her were to link with the rift at the same time as her, surely they would be able to force stability and direction on it. Perhaps she could even get Gabriel to help, she wouldn't let him connect directly to the rift, not after what happened to him, but he could lend her some of his power in some way; heal the damage the rift would cause before it can weaken her. She's torn between not wanting this Doctor hurt and wanting out, unable to speak further for either side of the idea.

[whofrownedthisface]

He can feel her ambivalence about the idea. Of course she knows he'll probably seek it out regardless of her counsel, and without this informed version of her to refuse to stay on course. "Forewarned is forearmed. I don't intend to get sucked through meekly like soap down a drain." She doesn't even sound terribly against it, not really, not if she can be reassured he won't fall prey to the rift himself. "Of course, I'm not sure...Well. What if you just end up here?" Well that's not extraordinarily well explained. "I mean, with me. I'm sure that would still be an improvement--" Maybe. He isn't sure at all, and he looks at her askance to see if she's aware of the fact. "But you might still be stuck." He looks apologetic at having to voice this concern.

[theoldgirl]

She is about to object again, to the way he sounds like he still doesn't understand the severity of the situation and the power of the rift - it's true that she would have had a better chance to resist it if he had been piloting her when she was dragged in, but after having nearly been destroyed by it despite his best efforts, she's not so sure that that's enough anymore. Before she can say as much, though, he brings up a very important and very troubling point and her eyes widen in dismay.

"But that would be worse, I can't go to your universe," she says, sounding quite horrified as her mind runs through the implications. She wouldn't be trapped in one place any longer and she could surely see the Web again - and what a relief that would be - but his universe isn't permanently linked to the rift the way this New York is. It might close behind her and then she would never be able to return home, she'd still be in the wrong universe with the wrong Doctor, but one who has his own version of her to take care of; she'd be utterly extraneous. "I need to remain where I am and go home."

[whofrownedthisface]

Alright, alright, no need for that, it's a perfectly nice universe he's got, not its fault. "I know, but it might be hard to manage a connection to your home when I'm here, I'm thinking of logistics here. It might even generate a, a sort of vacuum. I might be dragged through in your wake. It could be very unstable, a real mess." Other, even worse consequences he doesn't want to draw attention to when she's already distressed flit through his mind, rapid and unbidden like most of his thoughts. The rift would have to be central to any such endeavour, he sees that now. And as much as she will protest--as much as he already winces at the thought--that might mean solving this problem from within her current universe, with a lot of preparation and strategy of course. Maybe she won't notice this occurring to him. Oh to have his chalkboards at hand.

[theoldgirl]

Oh has he finally arrived at that realization too, finally picked up on the fact that the rift is unpredictable and fiercely chaotic? She can't suppress a roll of her eyes despite her agitation. "That is what I have been saying," she points out, exasperated. No matter the incarnation, he always has to think of something by himself before he gives it any real weight, he can never just listen.

And if that hasn't changed in this foreign him, then she can also tell that this is the point where he thinks of some reckless plan she wouldn't approve of if he ever asked her. She crosses her arms in preparation of dealing with this, now that she has a mouth and words to object with for once. "And I will not have you trapped here as well. Help me from your universe's side, or do not help me at all." She may be ambivalent about him getting involved with the rift, but if he's thinking of deliberately passing through it, she has almost no trouble being firmly against it. She already has a Doctor here, two trapped and frustrated Doctors won't make things better.

[whofrownedthisface]

There's already a Doctor here, sure, but not all Doctors are regenerated equal. But let that slide for now. It's such a shock, though not an unpleasant one, to get this kind of eye-rolling and mulishness in a new form. Really it would be an exceptional novelty, if things weren't so dire. It is a little harder to evade the disapproval this way, however, that had surely taken some getting used to.

If she's as in tune as all that, then she knows he won't accept either of those answers, if it looks like solving the problem from his universe's side will be impossible. He looks grave and apologetic, an expression that doesn't come naturally to his face, but he is nonetheless resigned. "You know I can't promise that." To companions, maybe, but not to her, she already knows better. "But I will be careful."

[theoldgirl]

At least he's doing her the courtesy of not lying to her, she appreciates that, in a disgruntled it's-the-least-she-deserves kind of way. But that doesn't stop her from being exasperated and worried in the extreme, and she wordlessly frowns up at him for a long moment. Still, she does want his help, desperately so, willing to cling to any new sliver of hope. Eventually she sighs deeply, knowing it's futile to argue with him.

"You had better be," she chides him, most of her sternness replaced by conflicted concern. "Since you are determined not to listen to me, as usual." For the first time she feels a spark of fondness for him at that, reassured to see that nothing fundamental has changed at all, as obnoxious as this particular habit of his may be. Slightly less disgruntled and slightly more affectionate, she raises an eyebrow and adds, "I see I must still put up with that."

[whofrownedthisface]

Yes, this is definitely a lot more pointed than when she didn't have a face to frown with, just a homey feeling of disapproval in the back of his mind. And when she was a fairly stationary thing that he could leave the vicinity of easily when he needs to do something really stupid. Though, this outcropping at least has less control over his environment, so it's half a dozen of one, six of the other, he supposes.

"Yes, I suppose you must," he sighs, though there's some degree of self-deprecation to it, and no small amount of relief. He feels like he's passed a test, keyed in a code and been recognised, though curiously he still feels like he must be some kind of impostor in her eyes. And will again, properly, he wants to say, but his reassurances have continuously fallen flat and he doesn't quite dare. "Good thing I decided to have a nap then, isn't it."

[theoldgirl]

She can't help shaking her head at his agreement, though now more fondly exasperated than annoyed. But she's still so high-strung that she sobers immediately when she considers just how good a thing their meeting here may or may not be, given the dangers involved. "I very much hope so," she says uncertainly, afraid for his safety but wanting to have faith that he will finally save her.

A little belatedly, she picks up on his relief and his odd hesitation, realizes he's still just as unsure and almost anxious in the face of their unnatural unfamiliarity as she is. It's so troubling and frustrating, she wants to buck and shake it off, or push through it somehow. She looks up into his new old eyes, studies him, trying to suss out what he needs, and finds that that had been more of a question than he had made it sound. He actually isn't sure if she is glad for their meeting, and she can't even blame him, with how distressed and reserved she's being. It's not right, and she wants to do at least this for him, so she brushes gentle gratitude against his mind despite their distance. As an afterthought, she takes one of his hands to squeeze and adds, "Thank you," with a small, hopefully encouraging smile.