theoldgirl: (I am part of history)
theoldgirl ([personal profile] theoldgirl) wrote in [community profile] applesaucedream2014-03-05 06:35 pm

built with a heart broken from the start [open to multiple]

The TARDIS is feeling her insides burst. Something has grabbed hold of her, pulling at her with a force as violent and unpredictable as a torrent, and for some reason that she can't quite remember all her shields are offline. She is vulnerable and she is being gutted. Corridors are on fire, rooms are filling with toxic fumes, fuel is running out and choking and burning her like blood-filled lungs. As she writhes in agony, the flow of time and her dimensions twist with her, and suddenly there are creatures in her that don't belong, pained, furious things, but she has no thought to waste on them. They roam her halls unchecked, skulking in the dark and the debris and the unsteady flashes of emergency lighting, taking their clue from the destruction they were born into.

Her only thought now is to keep the Doctor safe. So she struggles to control her panic and the chaos, to hold herself together, to hold onto... something, yes, there's something she mustn't let go of, but her memory is failing her again and everything hurts. The Doctor is back now, she pushed him away but he came back to her, of course he wouldn't let her die alone. He brought someone with him and she hates them immediately, smells the greed in their minds, like scavengers eager to tear apart their prey while she's still alive. She wants them out, but the Doctor isn't listening to her and maybe that's why she pushed him away, because he can't bear to listen to her cries and she didn't want him to hear. He's talking about the girl instead, another thing she can't quite remember, though hardly surprising; there's always a girl. A hot flash of bitterness is cut short by a hotter explosion as the last fuel cell tears up her interior, and her tenuous control wavers.

She knows she's clinging to something so important, but it feels like pressing down on glass splinters, piercing and ripping her hold. She's screaming, and her  screams turn into the reverberating voice of a heavy grim bell, tolling doom throughout her structures and into the void.
bluesuit_handy: (.worried | head scratch)

[personal profile] bluesuit_handy 2014-03-08 11:20 pm (UTC)(link)
Andrew yelps, staggers, and leaps away from the fire and toward a refuge that wasn't there a moment ago. He trusts her immediately, implicitly, and yanks the door open to dive through without hesitation. It's only when he's slammed the door behind him that he realizes his jacket is on fire, and he spends several moments beating at the embers with bare hands before he has the presence of mind to simply take the garment off and stomp it into submission. Breathing hard, he finally looks around at his surroundings for some sort of explanation, or at least some idea where he is within her.

Safe, he decides, for the moment. Heart still thudding in his chest, he reaches down to pick up his scorched jacket before stepping further into the room. This is no good; he can't do anything from here -- but maybe she can give him another door to where he does need to go. "What's happened?" he asks aloud, reaching out to stroke a wall. "Let me help -- I can help, but I need you to give me a way."