There's a second's pause, and then the TARDIS lays a small lead in April's mind so she can follow, and...
She turns, dives so far back in her history that the universe was hot and roiling still, planets and stars still forming from the soup, that none of the races had the names they came to have, that she was a free mind cavorting in the energy even as the universe cooled. And as the universe cooled, she and her pack curled in on each other for {{warmth}}, shrinking down and seeking hot spots, running from the tendency of matter to settle.
Then They came, the soon-to-be-called Time Lords, who called out to them and offered them safety, sustainability, the time they needed to evolve to the new cold universe and a physical form to allow them to truly interact. And the timamines came, and those ancient Gallifreyans built the first TARDISes and put them inside, and set them to sleep - to dream, for millennia. More than millennia.
And it was that moment, so far in her cultural history that it might be as useful to question man's first day out of the caves or his first glimpse of the star, when the imperative was laid into her race: the Time Lords were their saviours, their leaders, their foremost companions. It was Truth to her, to her kind, like the warmth of the sun.
Then just{now}, her conversation with the Doctor, the things he'd shoved up against her mind: the twisted carnival-vortex reflection of the Vesmier who'd taken her analogue and broken her, twisted her, set her so at odds with her nature that for an entire year all she could do was scream. The for a year she felt every passing second like a human - like a dog - like a mayfly, and that once insignificant span was drawn so tortuously out.
Her own reaction - the quick snap response to look through the Vesmer's mind, the Doctor's, scour out every corner, and the response any Time Lord could have predicted, the mass of suspicion/hurt/fear from them, the quick psychic distance following, and...
There aren't words, even in the strange telepathic/empathic/idealogical language the TARDIS and April seem to share, for how April feels in response to all that. It's overwhelming, and April's just glad she was given a lead to follow and not pulled, because she felt supports quiver a bit on that journey.
All that she can do is project this pure emotion of SympathyEmpathyUnderstandingSorrowComfortLove, and hope that, for the moment, anyway, it's enough.
It helps. There's a certain point after which sentience is sentience, and she's as glad, here and now, for the human presence as she would be for a Time Lord presence.
She curls around April, sharing that sort of emotional warmth, nuzzling into her. After a moment, she runs a hand over the new architecture of her mind, very carefully.
:: {{worry}} ::, she says. :: {rigid}{pressure => {shatter}} ::
:: {{agree}} ::, April says with a psychic shrug. :: action{repair.structure} in.instance{{entity(Vesimer)} == status{rested}} ::
As long as nothing too psychically traumatic or violent happens to her in the next day or so, before she can get together with Ves, she's not worried too much.
The TARDIS moves, just slightly, unlatching her outer door in invitation. :: ?? :: If she wants, she can come inside for the next two days. The TARDIS will make sure that nothing, nothing, hurts her.
She turns, dives so far back in her history that the universe was hot and roiling still, planets and stars still forming from the soup, that none of the races had the names they came to have, that she was a free mind cavorting in the energy even as the universe cooled. And as the universe cooled, she and her pack curled in on each other for {{warmth}}, shrinking down and seeking hot spots, running from the tendency of matter to settle.
Then They came, the soon-to-be-called Time Lords, who called out to them and offered them safety, sustainability, the time they needed to evolve to the new cold universe and a physical form to allow them to truly interact. And the timamines came, and those ancient Gallifreyans built the first TARDISes and put them inside, and set them to sleep - to dream, for millennia. More than millennia.
And it was that moment, so far in her cultural history that it might be as useful to question man's first day out of the caves or his first glimpse of the star, when the imperative was laid into her race: the Time Lords were their saviours, their leaders, their foremost companions. It was Truth to her, to her kind, like the warmth of the sun.
Then just{now}, her conversation with the Doctor, the things he'd shoved up against her mind: the twisted carnival-vortex reflection of the Vesmier who'd taken her analogue and broken her, twisted her, set her so at odds with her nature that for an entire year all she could do was scream. The for a year she felt every passing second like a human - like a dog - like a mayfly, and that once insignificant span was drawn so tortuously out.
Her own reaction - the quick snap response to look through the Vesmer's mind, the Doctor's, scour out every corner, and the response any Time Lord could have predicted, the mass of suspicion/hurt/fear from them, the quick psychic distance following, and...
:: {{afraid}} ::, she whimpers. :: process(asses('friend')) == {{untenable}{flawed}{damaging{mutual}}} && status{Time Lord} == {{uncertain}{fright/threat-ening}{uncertain}} && status{uncertainty} == {unfamiliar} && entity{this}{timamine} == {{SCARED}} ::
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All that she can do is project this pure emotion of SympathyEmpathyUnderstandingSorrowComfortLove, and hope that, for the moment, anyway, it's enough.
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She curls around April, sharing that sort of emotional warmth, nuzzling into her. After a moment, she runs a hand over the new architecture of her mind, very carefully.
:: {{worry}} ::, she says. :: {rigid}{pressure => {shatter}} ::
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As long as nothing too psychically traumatic or violent happens to her in the next day or so, before she can get together with Ves, she's not worried too much.
Still worried, though. A bit.
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April, obviously, is happy with that offer, given that psychic glee-face, her actual glee-face, and the fact that she's inside within a second.
April loves the inside of the TARDIS. There's always more to find.
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