Barbara Gordon (
bodilesswarrior) wrote2014-06-15 05:47 pm
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24 - Backdated to the Day after the Flood
[Barbara is sitting at her desk, fingers curled under her chin. Her brain is buzzing, still; it remembers feeling the universe tick.
There are notes scattered in front of her. It's her handwriting, but it's not; it's crafted by centuries and worlds she could never dream of, penned in alien ink.
When she finally speaks, her voice is quietly pensive.]
How much of this do you think stays with us? The people we become, the lives we never lived.
[She settles back in her chair.]
I was a Time Lord for three days. She was bound to her TARDIS, and she saw things, understood things that I could never grasp, not really. She was hundreds of years old, and she'd seen hundreds of worlds, and she knew the rhythm of the universe like it was her own heart beat.
[She raises her hand, taps her temple.] How is my mind supposed to process that, now that it's gone? How the hell does it work? [She tries not to get frustrated, any more, at how the Barge functions, at how much she doesn't understand. She failed, today.]
[Private to Iris]
[It's still easy, though, to smile for Iris. It's faint and it's wistful but it's real.]
You were a witch, right? I could - I'm not sure, but I was aware, of what happened in the corridors.
There are notes scattered in front of her. It's her handwriting, but it's not; it's crafted by centuries and worlds she could never dream of, penned in alien ink.
When she finally speaks, her voice is quietly pensive.]
How much of this do you think stays with us? The people we become, the lives we never lived.
[She settles back in her chair.]
I was a Time Lord for three days. She was bound to her TARDIS, and she saw things, understood things that I could never grasp, not really. She was hundreds of years old, and she'd seen hundreds of worlds, and she knew the rhythm of the universe like it was her own heart beat.
[She raises her hand, taps her temple.] How is my mind supposed to process that, now that it's gone? How the hell does it work? [She tries not to get frustrated, any more, at how the Barge functions, at how much she doesn't understand. She failed, today.]
[Private to Iris]
[It's still easy, though, to smile for Iris. It's faint and it's wistful but it's real.]
You were a witch, right? I could - I'm not sure, but I was aware, of what happened in the corridors.
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You know, the real criminalisation of cannabis stems largely from selfish propaganda.
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