(Dravia, dravia Gallifrey)
She felt it long before she ever saw it: the sting and roar of loose timelines snapping in a nameless wind. Her little pocket of the universe frothed and bubbled, spilling probabilities. It was shifting, adapting, the craziest set of Lego blocks she could imagine flickering and sliding under her feet, but she only started falling when he took her hand.
He caught her, and let go. It thrummed briefly through her veins, the turn of the Earth and the ripples from the fall of Gallifrey.
She heard it not long after she felt it: an echo like the rusted gears of the universe grinding down, and the sleek automated hyperdrive powering in. Her heart fluttered, as though she brushed her hand past a hole in time. She turned back towards it and ran.
The stars were the first thing she saw, strewn in florescent gel pen on a black silk napkin.
"This is what my planet looks like," he said. "This is how it should be remembered."
It took her three days to find him again.
The next things she saw were the grasses and the trees.
"I can't remember," he said. "Lots of planets have red grass and silver leaves."
"How many have a copper moon?"
He gave her a yellow flower and said, "Remember it."
She remembered the grand and dusty hall belowdecks, a rod on a pedestal, a crumpled robe and a discarded headress that was stained along one edge. She remembered the cavern he showed her not far away, a library echoing with songs and rhymes. She remembered cooking some simple 21st century Earth fare that night and forgetting how much milk she liked with her eggs.
She found a few familiar recipe cards tucked into a pocket of her hoodie. He only has the TARDIS to remind him, and she thinks sometimes he doesn't want to remember.
Something about how Gallifrey and its keep-universe-from-self-destructing infrastructure has been absorbed/recreated in a probabilistic universe? Something about Ninth telling/showing/avoiding Rose about Gallifrey? Something about Rose?
Ah well. Back to CALM/physics/math/English/Topologica.