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dizzy_land2008-12-03 03:29 pm
mickey-cops.livejournal.com) wrote in dizzy_land2008-12-03 03:29 pm
And the power of the people shall come to believe they do rule
((Continuing from this post.))
In the passageways beneath the park, where a group had gathered to break down a long-closed door, a laser beam was widening, and a broad circle began to blacken the surface of the wood, the locks melting and streaming down in shining rivulets, to puddle at the doorstep. The room was getting hot, now.
Outside, all at once, the rides all stopped. Animatronic figures jolted still; boats bumped each other confusedly; rollercoasters fell to the bottom of their tracks and did not continue up. The lights inside the buildings flickered off; the perpetual background noise of music and soundeffects went silent.
Below, the hole in the door began to crackle and spark around the edges, and for just a moment all the eyes trained on the door could see through it a fathomless darkness. An odd, organic silence filled the air; everyone's breathing and small movements were audible, but so too was a new absence of sound, as though the walls were all holding their breath.
And then the air around the door began to shimmer.
In the passageways beneath the park, where a group had gathered to break down a long-closed door, a laser beam was widening, and a broad circle began to blacken the surface of the wood, the locks melting and streaming down in shining rivulets, to puddle at the doorstep. The room was getting hot, now.
Outside, all at once, the rides all stopped. Animatronic figures jolted still; boats bumped each other confusedly; rollercoasters fell to the bottom of their tracks and did not continue up. The lights inside the buildings flickered off; the perpetual background noise of music and soundeffects went silent.
Below, the hole in the door began to crackle and spark around the edges, and for just a moment all the eyes trained on the door could see through it a fathomless darkness. An odd, organic silence filled the air; everyone's breathing and small movements were audible, but so too was a new absence of sound, as though the walls were all holding their breath.
And then the air around the door began to shimmer.
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"We anchored Time." He laid a hand softly on Cayce's hair. "We need to stop," he said quietly. "Stop, and breathe, and take a step back. This was a brilliant group, all of us, and we're falling apart at the seams."
He took a deep breath, but he wasn't quite ready to dictate anymore. Not just then. Not when his hearts were long gone from this place and up -where they belonged- above, with his people.
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He put a hand on Cayce's back to try and snap her out of it. He understood it was maddening, but she wouldn't help them by losing it. And really, was he the only person who realised--
"You know, we're all being like idiots." He took a breath, trying to keep the edge out of his voice, because he was angry, but that wasn't exactly fair when he had hadn't been giving his two cents for a while. "I get it, we're all panicked, but you know, all the Doctor and crew were doing was gathering information. That's what scientists do. They record, test and attempt. Getting on their cases wasn't fair, and might I mention, they were behaving pretty damn contrary to their archtypes, the Master and the Rani, and we all should be thanking our lucky invisible stars that they didn't decide to take advantage of this situation."
He took a step toward the hole, tried to ignore the weird vertigo it gave him. He pointed to it (and Psyche, giving her something of a smile in apology). "Did everyone think it would just be a big purple fluffy poof, and then it was over? Is anyone missing the big picture here? We did it, you guys. That means we can do it again. If it doesn't happen this second, it will happen. If we can all get our heads together and work as a team, it'll happen faster. And that means no sniping, no arguments as to who's methods are better, no flipping out when it doesn't go the way we thought it would."
He looked down at Cayce. "We can do this. But if we aren't willing to do it together, then we don't deserve to get out of here."
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It wasn't until Crichton spoke that she straightened up slightly and patted Kira's hand, and she looked up, slowly, at John.
There'd been a weird, spacey look in her eyes up until then, but it was gone now, replaced by calm and stern resolve. She stood and looked from one face to the next.
"I want to go through," she said.
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"Which would be who, exactly? We're all equal in this. You know how they say everyone's the hero of their own story? Well that's—"
She stopped suddenly and snapped her fingers. "Holy shit. Wait. Wait. I have an idea." Deep breath. "Okay, when I was looking through and the Doctor poked his head in? Couldn't see him. Scared the shit out of me, right? But he and I, we're not from the same world." She paced a few steps. "What if -- what happens if two people from the same world did that? Poked their heads through and looked at each other? What would they see?"
She poked Kira in the chest. "You and Setsuna. You're the only ones who can test this. I don't know what it'll prove, but whatever it is, it's gotta mean something."
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"Psyche," he asked quietly, looking a little pale and strained, "If I opened my mind to you, could you link to me? I really... I need to go upstairs. But I don't think anyone should be left down here without a connection to the rest of the park, and if time passes differently for the two pieces, I think it could be dangerous for those above to get out of sync."
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"If I told you we were going in, would you come back?"
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"Maybe if things went really, really wrong. I- I'm not ready to leave. Which may mean nothing in the end, but… if this works, I'll never see them again. And I can't leave it like this. Not after… he was being so… so… his old self. Like when we were kids. I can't leave him like…" -he's in pain, the Doctor can feel it through the link (and he knows it's the drums, the drums he can never hear, not even when he's there in the Master's head) and it's not right, he can't go home like that, he can't. and it says something that the Master is still allowing there, teather across time or no-
A decisive set to his mouth, and he began opening his mind to her, layer by layer. "Let's try it anyway. And anyway, if it works you'll need someone to let the rest of the park know. I'm not sure I could convince the Master to do it, if I stayed down here."
He didn't bother with any of the usual safety measures or door building to keep others out of private places but opened his mind fully, laying it bare to her for her to easily pick out whatever she needed. He reached down to touch her face to make any reciprocation she might need from him.
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Adam was only there to ensure the safety of those inside the room and those who were... elsewhere. He would act when and as he saw fit and although he'd never say so, his opinion was the most informed.
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And if something had to be done, Setsuna would do it, whether he wanted to or not. He tried to give Adam a reassuring smile of sorts -- Setsuna would miss him -- and waited for the Doctor and Psyche to finish, and Cayce and Kira to explain things with him, or at least respond to what the little idiot had just said.
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Then he touched her face, signaling readiness, and for a moment, it was as it had been the first time they met, when he touched her wings. Whispers of the thoughts of all of those around them came into his hearing, and of those above, a little more distant. And then it was all subsumed beneath a wave of sympathy, kindness, and...longing --
--And he was standing on the bare side of a low mountain, with the chill of autumn night all around, and the stars of Earth hanging above, brilliant as diamonds. In the distance were the low, flickering lights of a small village; nearby was a homely, grubbed-together campfire. Standing before him, Psyche smiled: a young human girl, her face and body marked with the ugly remnants of cuts and bone-deep bruises, her belly swollen with pregnancy, wearing the same travel-worn cloak she'd been wearing just a moment ago. Even so, her face was lit with hope, longing, and something that looked rather like bloody-minded stubbornness.
"Not so far to go, now," she said. "And take heart: here's always a chance things will go better than you could have expected. Here," she said. And held out her hand to him.--
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--He knew her story; had read it, heard it told in hundreds of languages, thousands of times in every Time, so the image didn't shock him. If anything, it was strangely comforting. Which was probably what she intended, in her own way.
"I think one of my biggest mistakes here was not to get to know you better," he remarked, stepping toward her. "You scared me, you know. That first time. And I suppose I've become rather overprotective of him in this place."
A smile for her encouragement. "Thank you. And I hope someone rubs your back for you when this is all over." And he took her hand.--
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She squeezed the Doctor's hand. "I know you, you know. Through other eyes. You were their friend, so I'm yours. And you can always call on me."
She went on tiptoe to press a brief kiss on his forehead--
And then was there before him, goddess again, with the same smile in the grim industrial light of the underground tunnel. She was a warm presence in the back of his mind.
Good luck, she told him.
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He opened his eyes. Thanks. And you too. And then he turned and left the room, with a nothing more than a look to John and an encouraging touch to the man's shoulder, like the passing of a baton.