applesaucedream | [open to all] Room full of people in your head

Current Music: February 10th, 2013

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[open to all] Room full of people in your head

The rift has gotten bored, and has decided it's time to bring people together for another dream party.

This time, when you find yourself within the dream, you'll be somewhere familiar. Perhaps somewhere you feel safe or at home, some place you miss, or were particularly happy at some point in your life. It might not be the same place every time you come back here, though.

There will also be a door where there didn't use to be one, even if there's no wall to surround it. If you go through this door, you will find yourself in endless simple corridor, lined with unmarked doors. And if you go through them, you'll pay a visit to someone else's room.

[There will monthly Dreaming party post like this. Same procedure as last time. Non-members welcome to tag in!]

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Andrew stands a moment, breathing hard and hardly daring to hope that that was it. He stumbles forward as he realizes he can move again, and then he's hurrying to the Doctor's side, finally dropping down beside him like he first meant to, leaning over the other man so he can turn his worried gaze over him. "It's alright -- you're alright, it's done now," he says, though he's not actually sure of that.

Edited 2013-05-10 20:53 (UTC)

The Doctor slowly opens his eyes, and there's still just a hint of the terror remaining there as he looks up at Andrew, then at where the sphere was. He closes his eyes again and groans, before rolling over and pushing himself up, using Andrew for support, ending up just sitting to lean against the wall. Either he's become completely desensitised to it, or the malevolent aura of the place has vanished.

"What did you do?" he asks, voice hoarse. He registered that Andrew did something that caused it to stop, but he's not sure what exactly went down.

Andrew does his best to be helpful, waiting until the Doctor seems to be situated before sitting down beside him. He rubs his face sheepishly, looking at the downed footwear. "I threw my shoes at it," he admits. "What was that?"

The Doctor looks down at Andrew's shoeless feet, then at the shoes. Well, whatever works. Could even call it resourceful. Who knows what would've happened it Andrew had tried to touch it.

"Not pleasant," he answers darkly. He has no idea what it was, or how it did what it did. He's almost tempted not to investigate. He really doesn't want to experience that again.

"I got that part," says Andrew with a mirthless chuckle. He leans against the Doctor, putting an arm around his shoulders without thinking about it. He wars with himself, feeling both of them ought to lay out anything that could help them figure out what it is/was, but embarrassed by the truth. He lets out a little sigh. "...I couldn't go near it."

The Doctor appreciates the gesture, though it comes from a rather unexpected source. But then they're both pretty tactile - or rather, he himself is, and he therefore assumes Andrew is as well.

He frowns at what he says, though. "Strange," he answers thoughtfully. "I almost felt drawn to it." He clears his throat a bit, considering. He's not so much embarrassed as he's unwilling to open up, perhaps because Andrew would understand too well. "It got inside my head. Showed me things. Memories, guilt, fears..."

Andrew does understand. He gives the Doctor's shoulder a little squeeze, able to think without even trying of dozens of shared memories he'd really, really rather not relive.

"Someone -- or something -- put it here," he points out. "Presumably for a purpose. If someone's setting traps for dreamers...." He sniffs in an uneasy breath and looks around, as if just realizing that they're still in 'enemy' territory. "We should get out of here."

Edited 2013-05-11 08:34 (UTC)

The Doctor blinks. That hadn't even occured to him. He's still a little wrapped up in the things he saw, but his mind pounces at the idea. The alterative is that he made it up himself, and he'd much rather have a real foe.

And as it occurs to him that this is in fact still a dream, he realises he's still inside the TARDIS, which means she probably felt that too. He makes a more determined effort to clear his mind, and give the TARDIS his reassurances.

"Yeah," he agrees, and pushes himself up. For a moment he thinks his body is going to object, but now he's in his own mind, he's not going be a slave to his imagined setting or form, thank you. Dream logic can go hang. He's not sure just how much control Andrew has over his own mind here, so he soon as he gets to his feet, he picks up Andrew's shoes and hands them to him, waiting for him to put them on before heading back to the corridor.

Had they been in the Doctor's own room -- or perhaps even back in Andrew's room aboard the spaceship -- he might have been more inclined to blame the Doctor's brain for the encounter. Here, though, in a strange place neither of them recognized or could explain, it seems more likely to be an outside influence.

Andrew offers the Doctor physical (or meta-physical) support in standing -- or tries to, since the other man doesn't seem to need it. Following him to his feet, Andrew brushes himself off and mutters a thank you for the return of his shoes, which he unthinkingly dons and ties in the normal fashion rather than simply wishing them back onto his feet.

"If you see another orb, don't touch it," he suggests facetiously.

"Will keep it in mind," he answers, stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking fairly briskly back out, not offering up any conversation until they're back outside.

He wonders if he should try to mark the door somehow, like a keep out sign, but he's not sure it would stay there after they left, nor is he sure the room would remain the same, and even if both things happen, a keep out sign is only going to make certain people more interested. He discards the idea.

"There are people with sufficient control over the dream world that they might be able to do something like this. Topher Brink. Gabriel. The TARDIS, of course. Probably more. But I doubt any of them would've done this," he contemplates. Granted, he can't rule Topher or Gabriel out, but he also fails to see what's to gain by it.

"Gabriel might be powerful enough," muses Andrew. "Have you talked to him much? I only met him the once in a dream -- he had plenty of control then, but I didn't -- I wasn't awake enough to really watch him." Though Andrew can at least remember with some satisfaction that he'd had the sense to get a bit wary once Gabriel started making things materialize and heating up food already in Andrew's mouth.

He rubs his chin. "Topher Brink...I'm sure I've heard that name."

"Not much," he answers with a shrug. "Topher's the rift specialist working for Romac, and he has dream-related powers. But he hasn't revealed the importance of the TARDIS or myself to Romac, and seems fairly trustworthy. Tipped Ianto off whe the TARDIS arrived, too. Because apparently, there's a TV show about me in his universe." He's tried not to think about that too much. It's one thing to read reports on his world-savings. TV show sounds like it might be a bit more invasive and personal. And probably inaccurate.

Andrew opens his mouth to ask the Doctor how he let this Topher Brink come to know enough about him and the TARDIS to be worth giving away. He snaps it shut a moment later in abject surprise, though, when the Doctor preemptively answers the question.

"A TV show?" he asks indignantly, mind already running along the same objections the Doctor has. For him, though, there's another burning question. "...Am I in it?"

"I honestly haven't asked," he answers. "Though apparently it's been running for nearly half a decade." Because he had to prod a little, of course. But it seemed Topher hadn't watched it in its entirety. And of course - not enough that they have Andrew and Peter. Apparently Topher's universe has an actor who looks like them as well.

Andrew sniffs, a little miffed at the Doctor for not having an answer -- and a bit miffed at the show's producers now that he's been given free reign to imagine that they left him out like the idiots they obviously are. "Psychic resonance bleeding through, d'you think?" he asks.

"Either that, or at some point in my future, I go mad, hop to another universe, and create a show about myself. Or you end up universe hopping, and decide to sell your story to get rich," he suggests with a smile. Either option is fairly ludicrous.

"James'd never go for it," chuckles Andrew.

...He's really going to have to stop talking about James if he doesn't want the Doctor to eventually figure out they're not just roommates. He quickly tries to shift the focus back to the Doctor. "First option's more likely, anyway."

Well, it certainly makes him curious. Well, James's existence in general makes him curious. But he's not going to pursue the topic at the moment.

"Well..." He considers it, then exhales heavily. "Yeah, I suppose I can't make the best arguments for my sanity through the years and bodies." He makes a face. "Bit tacky, though." Then again, he's been tackier.

The Doctor is not allowed to be curious about James's existence, no way, no how. James is Andrew's business and no one else's.

"Just a bit?" asks Andrew. "Just mind who you cast as our companions, alright?"

Except for the bit where James kind of used to be him. He's gotten the very basics of it from the TARDIS too - created on Androzani, and then eventually developed his own personality. But it hasn't occured to him to ponder the nature of their relationship.

"I promise, in that extremely hypothetical future, that I will be very selective," he answers with a bit of a smirk. "Would you like to see my Gallifrey room?" he asks suddenly. Anyone else, he probably wouldn't have offered, but since Andrew probably misses it too.

The TARDIS ought to know perfectly well, should he think to ask her...unless it hasn't occurred to her to wonder, either. Andrew's never been terribly explicit about their relationship with anyone, ~~even James,~~ and he still has the naive notion now and then their friends don't actually know he and James are shagging.

Andrew's breath catches in his throat at the offer. He knows how much it means for the Doctor to offer it...and he knows how much it'd mean to him to see even a projection of Gallifrey. He immediately feigns disinterest.

"Yeah, alright," he says with a little shrug, as if he simply can't think of anything better to do right now.

Andrew and James probably shouldn't have started making out in front of Daine, then. That might have been a tip-off. And while James won't lie about it, he doesn't really volunteer the information either - certainly not to the Doctor. And the Doctor blithely assumes they're friends.

He knows better than to actually believe Andrew's disinterest, or to be insulted by it. He's been counting doors to know which are which, but there's no way to be certain they actually stay the same place.

He walks a bit down the hall and opens the appropriate door - nope. A theatre of some kind. Not his. He closes the door and checks the next one. A child's bedroom. Nope.

"That is, if I can find it," he comments. "It isn't in the same place."

Edited 2013-05-18 00:58 (UTC)

It was an emotional moment! Andrew has very carefully not said anything about that to Daine since then, and her failure to bring it up has almost allowed him to pretend it never happened. And James is Andrew's friend...among other things.

"Are you sure this is the same place?" asks Andrew, opening another across the hall. Some sort of stable? He shuts it again and strolls toward the next.

"Fairly - I counted the doors," he answers, opening another - a throne room. Huh. He's tempted to investigate, but decides not to.

The next door, however, provides results. "Here," he says to gain Andrew's attention, and steps inside.

It's not the same place as when he arrived. This time it's one of the garden terraces, in the middle of the Capitol. This one is fairly close to where his rooms were, once he became a Time Lord. The view of the city itself and the surrounding mountains is stunning.

Andrew lingers at the door to the throne room, wishing whoever owns it were inside so he could question them mercilessly. He turns his head to look when the Doctor finds the right one, and trots over to join him lest they lose the room again.

"...Here," he agrees faintly as he steps inside and the sights and sounds -- and smells -- hit him. Shutting his eyes, he sniffs in a deep breath, turning his face to the suns' warmth.

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alwaysalright - 2013-05-18 01:38 (UTC) - Expand

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bluesuit_handy - 2013-05-18 01:53 (UTC) - Expand

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