Dearest, darlingest Micah:
Welcome back! I hope you’ve had the absolute loveliest time these past few weeks.
While you were gone, we created a bit of a welcome-back-to-tumblr gift for you. We want you to know how very much we adore and appreciate you, Micah dear…and, of course, how utterly fantastic you would be as a companion.
So, without further ado, zeezie-gallifrey, heartcrossedfruits, opening-a-shop, madis-hartte, zoealicelostariel, nativehueofresolution, sweetasthesky, fairious, allonsyallyons, and mrsemilytilney present:
or had it been mere minutes-
(I never get enough sleep anyway)
Time is a fickle thing after all
there’s far too many other things
I wonder what’ll happen today?
Why was it no surprise that the crash that had awoken her this time was coupled with peals of manic laughter and shouting about some sort of vortex manipulator finally acting as it should and not being as cool as a rubber duck?
Still, I’d prefer this wake up call to any other. She thought with a smile as she slowly stretched and yawned, wiping traces of sleep from her eyes. Looking lazily over at her beside table and past her stack of books that were strewn haphazardly after a night of her incurable insomnia, she saw the time and blinked back her surprise.
Only two hours? Ah well-too late to get any more shut eye once he’s up and about. She giggled, stretched again and jumped out of bed, slipping into her bumblebee slippers before hitting the ground before racing to the door of her small room.
Now fully awake, the girl with the firery hair skipped down along the golden multidimensional hallways that literally went on for ages and eternity…at least almost so.
Stopping and turning around in her track, she backpedaled towards the kitchen, grabbing three biscuits and a handful of the always stocked Jammie dodgers. (Knowing him and our adventures- we better eat while we can because I don’t think he’s always going to be able to convince a Zygon to fix us a five course meal after winning a game if wits.)
Returning back to her walk and munching on a biscuit, she was finally approaching the familiar, warming light of the soul of the TARDIS, and heard a large bang as the TARDIS again jolted to the left, nearly causing her to drop her supplies as she attempted to make her way down the stairs.
“Everything alright with the old girl?” She called down below to the goggle faced man tinkering away on his fantastic machine, bow tie askew in his concentration.
“OI! What are you doing up, Ginge? I thought you were asleep!” The Doctor called up through the metal grating and faster that you could say Raxicoracalfalapatorious he had bounded out from his perch below to appear spinning around the control panel and rushing to the girl still in her flowered pajamas.
Giving her a quick kiss to the forehead as his way of a greeting- he flopped down upon the copilot seat with his usual collapse of limbs- looking quite comical with the goggles now perched precariously atop his head, already forgotten, and the soot and grime making him look like a crackpot inventor whose invention had just decided to blow up in his face. She giggled at the sight, sitting down beside him, arms still full of the treats.
“What’s so funny, Miss Kiana?” He asked looking bewildered. “Nevermind that- you’re always giggling at me- so how did you sleep? I still say we could have still made one more round on The International Space Station-but you needed some shut eye anyway.”
“Weeellllll,” she paused, rocking back on her toes as she handed him the jam cookies of which he took with a great grin upon his face. She was still trying to decide what she should tell him this time. After all- she couldn’t bear to tell him it was the nightmares that kept her up- not just her ‘incurable insomnia’ as she led him to believe.
“Well- you were the one who woke me up mister,” she said bopping him on the nose playfully. “Something about a rubber duck? Doesn’t matter though- couldn’t sleep…insomnia remember?” She said with a hesitant smile, hoping to hide the lie concealed in her eyes.
I’m so sorry Doctor, I can’t sleep because I’m scared of what’ll I’ll dream.
I don’t want to see the cliffs again…
Something’s coming…I know it.
He smiled, mouth half full of the dodgers. “Ah still fink you jest want’ed te read more,” he said spilling crumbs upon the TARDIS floor. “I can still take you to the planet of Mezzadun if you want? I always get my best sleep there- or was that the planet with the poppies and you never wake up from until you get kissed by a Racknoss…” He shuddered, as if remembering a particularly unpleasant memory.
She giggled, jumping up and twiddling the stabilizers (which she always found hilarious to tease him about) and exclaimed, “Alright Doctor! Where are we off to today, hmm? Sorry but- I don’t want to risk the Mezzadun idea, I’m fine and used to running on little sleep remember?”
He smiled weakly, getting to his feet slowly and taking in her baggy eyes which she had tried to hide quite badly honestly.
“Are yeh sure? Sleep deprivation is definitely not cool- even I do it…sometimes.”
He said screwing up his face trying to remember when he had done so last anyway. Time streams are always so difficult to manage even if you are a time lord after all.
“Nah- I’m fi-fine.” She said, attempting to stifle a yawn behind her back.
“I’m just slightly thirsty- could you brew us a cuppa before we get going?”
“That I can, Ginge. I’ll be right back,” and with that he sprinted off up the stairs, skidding back within a second to ask whether the tea bags were supposed to be open or closed when you put in the water-at which she laughed at before he skidded off again, leaving her alone, curled upon the TARDIS pilot chair.
Staring at the central vortex manipulator and feeling the TARDIS rock back and forth slowly, she couldn’t help but relax. The sounds were just so peaceful and the soul of the TARDIS herself seemed intent upon lulling the stubborn girl to get some much needed sleep.
…No, mustn’t sleep, white cliffs, dreams aren’t dreams, no, mustn’t sleep…
And that was when it hit her, snapping her out of the slip of drowsiness she had almost fallen into, just at the edge of succumbing to her need for sleep.
A single word had just slipped into her subconscious- simplistic yet foreign. She had a feeling she had heard it before - and she was now able to recount it from every nightmare she had ever had in recent months upon the TARDIS.
Yes- this was it- the perfect clue-
That was it.
Why does that sound so familiar?
Springing up from her perch, she skidded in her rush to the stairs. She needed to check- to be sure… The projection room would be perfect.
But- I’d better see alone. The Doctor mustn’t know-
Thusly, it was with a slowed pace, careful to stay upon tiptoes that she quietly padded past his bustling around the kitchen and went off down a left hand corridor leading off to the massive amphitheater on the second right she came to.
Entering the room of darkness, she remembered the Doctor’s instructions that in order to use this room, all you needed was a memory and a name of the place you just so happened wanted to remember.
And boy-did she have plenty of memories.
In a rush of wind and sound, her dreams became a reality around her as she watched it play, horrible now to see awake rather than in dreams, proving it to be just as she suspected- a premonition of what was to come.
She was standing at the white cliffs of Trensalore, and before she could help it, the screams were unwillingly ripped from her throat, drowned in the roar of the wind and sea below.
She knew it was not to happen now, that time was in flux and the Doctor had not yet come to call but the tears singed her face all the same.
This was where it would happen.
This is where the Doctor would meet his ultimate and final end. She knew, time, in it’s ever changing state could be altered in seconds from the smallest of circumstances to affect the greatest of events and how it’s was constantly rewritten throughout time and space.
This point though could not be changed no matter how her heart ached and how bad the world had become.
This was it. This was the end. There was no way to stop it.
Silence would fall.
And yet though she felt as though my heart could not take this grief, she still had to continue on, had to be with him till the end. The Doctor should never be alone and she, Kiana Marie, had no intention in leaving him-ever.
And so, drying her tears as best as she could, the girl now a shell and knowing the truth at last yet still as stubborn as ever, stepped out of the projection room, and slowly carried herself back to her room, stroking the TARDIS as she walked down the endless golden corridors. She was going to find a way- even if the truth could not be voiced- she was going to find a way to save him and that was all she had to focus on.
But for now-
I’ll just have to find some explanation for the mascara down my face and my impossibly red nose. I’ll say it was just a sad movie I had thought about-or maybe I just had smeared it in the catnap I had just taken- he’ll probably laugh and find a new planet for us to explore or maybe I’ll just finally be able to sleep.
What was the point?
Why did the song have to end?
Why does the silence come so soon?
OTP: Fair Princess? I’m down with that.
Haha will that turn into their OTP name? I just tag anything with Iroh II as ‘FAIR PRINCESS’ because I accidentally wrote ‘Disney Princess’ instead of ‘Disney Prince’ underneath a screencap of him that got reblogged. So now he’s earned the title of FAIR PRINCESS on my blog.
i’m hyperthyroid, which has basically screwed up every body system and made me exhausted and ill in different ways for the last three months. so i’ve missed about 35 days of school…and now that we have a sort-of diagnosis, a specialist has looked into medication, and the only medication that could help comes with some very serious side effects. i’m desperate enough to try pretty much anything, but my dad is convinced that i’m not doing everything i possibly can (vitamins, different food, exercise, etc) to avoid needing the drug, and that i can’t fathom how much stress i’m placing on him.
oh zeez, what’s wrong?
i’m really, really sorry if this comes off complain-y in any way, but i don’t really have the energy to check my tone right now and this seemed like a decent description. i hope it answers your question…?
phoenixwormwood137 replied to your post: well, i just had a really difficult conversation…
ugh i am so, so sorry. praying.
and thank you, all of you, for the support and prayer tonight. i can’t tell you how much it means to me. please know that you’ve given me a bit more hope that this will all come out alright :)
situations like that are always so difficult to navigate. definitely in my thoughts and prayers, dear.
madis-hartte replied to your post: Phoenix, may I just say… ASHGJYKJHKJ YOUR VOICE IS AMAZING
I CAN’T LOOK AT THE VIDEO LSAFHSALKFHA WHY
Oh that’s too bad.
but tbh it’s not THAT great. I can post it to YouTube if you want, that might play better
Rory being Amysexual but having spent a couple millennia keeping out of trouble badly. Assumptions about how Jack and Rory must have at least met at some point (and maybe kept out of trouble badly together). A 52nd century OFC I created (and whom I love) who is a psychiatrist, dealing with Amy (who tends to bite them, and is not at all prepared to deal with a shrink whose primary form of treatment is snuggling (sometimes with touch telepathy and always empathy thrown in) and often sex). An alien I created (based on a vague description in the TARDIS wiki) with no freaking pronouns in their language (and no word for ‘river’). River ill and lashing out at anyone with a trace of psychic ability. Eleven and Sexy unable to help her because, well, trace of psychic ability.
Trying to stay fairly canon-compliant as well as compliant with the other um… nine or so stories already in these series I wrote.
This is FUN!