Topologica snippet
This from somewhere in the middle. Haven't worked out how the whole thing will go yet, or if this is gonna appear like it is here (probably not), or if "Topologica" will be a single chappie or a multichapter epic, but I don't have long to write it and my not-muse doesn't answer to me. He picks really late at night to start speaking too. Ack.
"It smells like...smells like... Are you wearing cologne or something?"
"What? No! Why would I wear cologne?"
"I dunno. Some blokes do. Smells like you are, anyway. 'Cept I don't remember smelling it before we left the TARDIS, or the console room, or whatever."
The Doctor looked at Rose with a contemplative look on his face.
"What? What is it, Doctor?"
"Do you see any, what's the word..." He paced on the sometimes-knoll of moss, gesticulating wildly until he stumbled into a little depression. Pulling his foot out of the now innocent plateau, he turned to Rose with a scandalised look on his face. "Do you realise how limited your language is, Rose? There's not even a word for-" here there was an odd hoarse screech just on the edge of hearing- "Granted, humans can't see this usually, it's a miracle you can even detect it as scent..."
"Are you saying I can smell whatever it is, another dimension or something?" She wrinkled her nose slightly, as though expecting a bombardment of unpleasant smells.
"Sort of, yeah. Tell you what." He squelched his way back to her, cheerfully climbing halfway up a small cliff and ducking through the subsequent stone archway to stand at her side. "I can show you what this place really looks like. Just a glimpse, mind. Even that might give you a bit of a headache after, so only if you really want to see."
"Yeah," she said quickly. He placed his fingers against her temples, maneuvered himself so her head rested just under his chin. Everything darkened.
"It's alright. I'm in your head." A pause. "That alright?"
"Alright? You're in my head!"
"I'm only in as far as the TARDIS is. I can only read your thoughts if you think them hard at me." It occurred to Rose that the Doctor's voice sounded closer than the last time he spoke; the timbre of his words had grown deeper and more resonant. "Ready, Rose?"
There was a rush of contagious excitement lacing through his voice, racing familiar paths through her nerves and shooting tingles down her arms.
"I'm ready."
The world split open; someone flung wide the heavy curtains and daylight flooded into the dark room of her brain. It was incredible, vast and glimmering, its sheer existence was blinding, every single thing at once itself and each other and varying states in between. The fabric of spacetime heaved and tore and curled in and healed itself, every dimension known to her intimately in a language not her own but one with mastery in this not-space. This wasn't grasping the size of the universe, this wasn't having the vast entirety of the Time Vortex running through her mind but it was close enough, the sheer number of possibilities on the verge of happening in such a small space- her head was starting to kill her-
Metallic fire.
"It smells like...smells like... Are you wearing cologne or something?"
"What? No! Why would I wear cologne?"
"I dunno. Some blokes do. Smells like you are, anyway. 'Cept I don't remember smelling it before we left the TARDIS, or the console room, or whatever."
The Doctor looked at Rose with a contemplative look on his face.
"What? What is it, Doctor?"
"Do you see any, what's the word..." He paced on the sometimes-knoll of moss, gesticulating wildly until he stumbled into a little depression. Pulling his foot out of the now innocent plateau, he turned to Rose with a scandalised look on his face. "Do you realise how limited your language is, Rose? There's not even a word for-" here there was an odd hoarse screech just on the edge of hearing- "Granted, humans can't see this usually, it's a miracle you can even detect it as scent..."
"Are you saying I can smell whatever it is, another dimension or something?" She wrinkled her nose slightly, as though expecting a bombardment of unpleasant smells.
"Sort of, yeah. Tell you what." He squelched his way back to her, cheerfully climbing halfway up a small cliff and ducking through the subsequent stone archway to stand at her side. "I can show you what this place really looks like. Just a glimpse, mind. Even that might give you a bit of a headache after, so only if you really want to see."
"Yeah," she said quickly. He placed his fingers against her temples, maneuvered himself so her head rested just under his chin. Everything darkened.
"It's alright. I'm in your head." A pause. "That alright?"
"Alright? You're in my head!"
"I'm only in as far as the TARDIS is. I can only read your thoughts if you think them hard at me." It occurred to Rose that the Doctor's voice sounded closer than the last time he spoke; the timbre of his words had grown deeper and more resonant. "Ready, Rose?"
There was a rush of contagious excitement lacing through his voice, racing familiar paths through her nerves and shooting tingles down her arms.
"I'm ready."
The world split open; someone flung wide the heavy curtains and daylight flooded into the dark room of her brain. It was incredible, vast and glimmering, its sheer existence was blinding, every single thing at once itself and each other and varying states in between. The fabric of spacetime heaved and tore and curled in and healed itself, every dimension known to her intimately in a language not her own but one with mastery in this not-space. This wasn't grasping the size of the universe, this wasn't having the vast entirety of the Time Vortex running through her mind but it was close enough, the sheer number of possibilities on the verge of happening in such a small space- her head was starting to kill her-
Metallic fire.