Podpop

[cityship]

[Instructions: Post your character with one post establishing them as being podpopped. Tag each other in groups of 2's, 3's, and 4's, to get some interaction to start with. If a thread doesn't already have 2 or 3 people tagged in, tag it with your character's podpop popping near the other people, rather than making a new subthread. If you would

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[butworthit]

Grogginess from the untold months or years of stasis might’ve left the Doctor vulnerable for a longer time in any other circumstance. Luckily for him, the combined forces of the chill of the pod fluid in the open air and the weight of his previous thoughts were an excellent stimulator.

So what was the situation?

As he recalled, he’d ordered his TARDIS to take Rose home, both women in his life leaving him alone on the Game Station against a Dalek fleet. All appeared lost. The War was on again, and this was a battle he wasn’t so sure he could win. Not without an enormous, painful cost, one that he found himself willing to pay. By his hand, the Earth would die.

And that was the end point of his prior memories, in one twist of time. There was a flash of light, and he remembered no more until this moment. There were a thousand ways he could be in an impossible situation from here. So it was time to start narrowing them down.

First thing: his immediate surroundings. He was in a humid room, one well-suited to sustain plant life. The floor was bumpy, and that was at least one good sign: Daleks preferred smooth metal surfaces. Had they captured him? The room didn’t bear the markings of their fleet, but it could just as easily be a trap. Best to be cautious.

Second thing: his condition. The good news was that his body appeared intact, and it was the same body he’d had last. No large traumatic incidents or emergency regenerations. The bad news: he was naked and unarmed. A sonic screwdriver would’ve provided some information, but he lacked even that. All that was left to him was his mind, and even that seemed…off. As if he’d lost his connection to the cosmos, the dimensions of time and space. Was he outside reality again?

Unlikely. He’d feel it if he was. But he needed arms and answers. A little information could be dangerous, it was true, but no information at all was even more dangerous. Better to resolve that as soon as possible. That desire led to the third thing: Stacy. The Doctor could recall her full name if he wanted to, but he wasn’t feeling charitable enough to spare the effort at the moment. All he knew was that she knew his true name, she was in his head, and she was being infuriatingly unhelpful.

Given how short his temper was and how many terrifying possibilities he had to turn in his mind again and again, it wasn’t long at all before he told her to take her useless platitudes and shove off. Time to find his own way! He stood, flicked the pod fluid on his arms as far as it would go, and marched off.

"Useless, absolutely usele---no, I don't need a sedative, thanks!"

[coldfire_adept]

Tarrant, for his part, was also naked, though he had the advantage of no longer being covered in slime. His gaze flickered toward the Doctor. Studying him. Listening to the cadence of his voice. After a moment, he spoke.

"Let's not be so rash, shall we? Shouting may draw unwanted attention."

[butworthit]

Some logic was present in that statement, yes, but he was not in the mood to calm down. At all. He conceded to politeness just slightly, lowering his voice and folding his arms over his chest.

"From who? We've been sitting ducks in those pods for who knows how long, haven't we? If they wanted us dead, they had more than enough time. Could be leading us into a trap, but we can take our time and work it out."

[coldfire_adept]

Tarrant made a noncommittal gesture with one hand; he could explain the various scenarios in which people might want them dead who might not have had access to them while they were still in the pods, but that would require being helpful. And he'd already accomplished what he'd wanted, which was for the Doctor to lower his voice. Now it was the time on Sprockets when introductions.

He gave the Doctor an elegant bow, made none the less graceful for his complete length of clothing. The movement was precise, practiced. "Gerald Tarrant. And you are?"

[butworthit]

Oh, the Doctor's spent most of his life (but especially the past few years) preparing for the worst case scenario. It gets exhausting after a while, so he's learned to prioritize. Some situations are far more likely to kill him than others, and this is only a medium on the scale.

"The Doctor. Nice to meet you," he said with much elegance, though he didn't entirely feel it. Nice enough, given the circumstances. And now he set out to fill his most pressing need: information.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

[coldfire_adept]

"I was... traveling," Tarrant said, with a smile. Yes. Tarrant spent a lot of time... traveling. "On business. But I certainly wasn't doing anything that might land me here."

'The Doctor' seemed noncommittal enough. Tarrant was comfortable with titles. In any case, he could find his own information. He reached out for the currents, and --

"That's," breathed Tarrant, as if someone had suddenly whispered some unexpected secret into his ear, "Improbable."

[butworthit]

"I know a bit about travelling," the Doctor added. "Done plenty of it myself. And I think it might've landed me here."

The symptoms matched a transmat beam, didn't they? Flash of light, slight disorientation afterward, strange landing? It could've been the Daleks keeping him away from their master plan. Were they scared? Were they going to leave him here with some unknown threat? There was always that.

That was about the time he felt the hairs on his skin rise, as if he was being watched. It was like moments ago, with that Stacy voice in his head. But not like her at all. It was coming from---there? He shot out a question.

"What's improbable? The size of my ears?"

[coldfire_adept]

Tarrant's mind was racing to categorize, to reconcile. But there was no real dilemma here, was there? Nothing to debate. No one could have changed the fae here so completely that it could all be an elaborately constructed lie.

"We're on a ship," he murmured. "A spaceship. Capable of traveling between worlds. Erna no longer exists."

[butworthit]

The Doctor felt vaguely upstaged. Any other time, he would've been able to work that out in seconds. It was the likeliest possibility, but he was still floundering. Some key portion of his knowledge was missing.

"Well yeah, figured that much out for myself," he mumbled to cover that up. "But what's Erna? A planet?"

His face darkened. "Your planet?"

[coldfire_adept]

Sorry, the Doctor. That was just kind of what Tarrant did.

Tarrant's gaze flickered back to the Doctor. He wasn't surprised the Doctor had never heard of it. In fact, he'd be surprised if anyone had.

"It's a planet on the edge of the Milky Way galaxy. Or it was. My planet, yes." All those years. All that effort. Gone.

[butworthit]

The Doctor felt himself going numb. If he was here and his planet was gone, then...one possible logical conclusion was that Earth was gone. With a Dalek fleet just outside the last he'd left it, it was even likely.

"You can feel it."

And he can't, not anymore. "That means Earth's gone, doesn't it."

Gallifrey was already long gone, nothing to be done about that. But the planet he loved to hang around so much was likely to be gone too. He fell silent, staring at a fixed point on the ceiling. There were things to do up there, weren't there?

That would be next.

[coldfire_adept]

It didn't surprise Tarrant that the Doctor wasn't party to the fae like he was. Even on his own world, those who could manipulate it were a subset of the general population. For someone not of Erna? It would likely be impossible.

"Earth." Tarrant tasted the word. Yes. To some of the people here, Earth would be home. How strange that in finally being in a position to travel amongst the stars that he would find that one shining goal destroyed. "Yes. Gone."

He watched the Doctor, watch the delicate violet threads of the dark fae wind about through the air. It was a kind of music that, as far as he could tell, no one else here was party to. "Do you have a gun?" he asked, suddenly.

[butworthit]

The darkness remains. That last shining hope he'd held for Earth was gone. It wasn't known when it was destroyed, not yet, but it could be a fixed event. And that would mean the end of so much, so many.

Well now. No need to panic, not without more information. He swallowed hard, lifting his hands.

"No. Where would I carry it? Haven't exactly got a subspace pocket in my armpit. It's a bit difficult to hide a gun when you're naked," he grumbled.

Even clever Jack Harkness would have to agree. He'd suffered for his preparation.

[coldfire_adept]

Tarrant waved a hand in dismissal. "Never mind." He turned toward the line of lights leading on out of the caverns.

"I believe it's time to collect a few more answers. You're welcome to come with me."

[butworthit]

The Doctor thought about that for a moment. "Could use a weapon, though. I'll stop if I see anything we can use."

He didn't answer either way, instead deciding to walk along for a little while. He could always stop off if he saw something to investigate. The walks helped his mind get back on track.

"More to this than a spaceship," he mused.

[coldfire_adept]

For a while, Tarrant was silent as he walked, absorbing what the currents had told him. He knew in theory, a firearm would be a practical weapon. Convenient. Reliable.

And completely useless on a planet like Erna, where the doubt of a gun's wielder would make the weapon misfire more often than not, proving more a danger to himself than his opponent.

Ah, but outside Erna, there it should be possible. To perform the same experiment, and have it register exactly the same results each and every time. And yet there was fae here. Because of him? Because of his presence? Yet it hadn't harmed the Doctor. Why?

Finally, he broke the silence. "Yes. Much more, I think. There is something like a Shielding at work here. Skillfully done." Skillfully enough that he couldn't delve into the fae and divine all he wanted to know, which was disturbing in and of itself.