For lastvoyages: Seventeenth Vision (video)

[can_has_vodka]

[Backdated to around mid flood]
[Have an Arkady! She is meditating hard and is completely radiating calm, peace and the sort of spiritually tinged happiness maintaned by someone who has faith that Things Will Eventually Turn Out Right. She doesn't say anything; just sits there being a beacon for people to focus on who are getting too overwhelmed.]

[For those who can see it, her aura is of course mostly light purple, but with a lot of gold (spirituality), orange (happiness) and hope (platinum) shimmering in there.

[Private to Dr. House]
Say the word and I'll set you up in the CES with a tent, a book and some Irish Coffee.

Comments

[private]

[huge_egomd]

[House doesn't see auras but he can feel her emotions. Normally all that happiness would annoy the crap out of him but for now it's a not unwelcome respite from the emo deluge.]

Seems simpler to just club everyone into unconsciousness.

[private]

[can_has_vodka]

Can't do that, love, too much guilt after. And since there's not enough cannabis for the whole Barge, we have to work with what we've got.

Come on, I've brought out my Comfy Chair and everything. Besides which, this is a perfect opportunity for you to take advantage of a Flood.

[private]

[huge_egomd]

Guilt is not an issue for me. [Not that he'll admit to. Guilt is one of those pesky emotions best ignored.]

Fine. [He reaches for his cane] But I don't see how there's any advantage to be gained.

[private]

[can_has_vodka]

Ehhh, guilt is really annoying. It crops up ugly, sometimes years later, when you don't bloody expect it to.

Anyway, it's simple. You're temporarily psychically gifted. You can ask me questions about me or what you're in for and know absolutely whether I'm lying or not.

[private]

[huge_egomd]

Only if you let it.

Not much of a gift. Reading thoughts would be helpful. Emotions are useless. [Have a suspicious look--why would anyone invite him into their mind?] What's the catch?

[private]

[can_has_vodka]

I have to. If I stop caring about people I could really do damage.

Mind reading isn't as handy a power until you've gotten real practice in it, actually. Emotions can give you a pile of information if you avoid being caught up in them.

And when I said I was willing to earn your trust, I bloody well meant it. That means time, effort, risk to me, fine. [a sort of gentle frustration coupled with affection and amusement at his stubborn-bastardry.] See if I won't.

[private]

[huge_egomd]

If you know what you're looking for, you can discern a person's emotions from their body language. You don't need to be drowned in them. [Which is him actually sort of agreeing with Arkady.]

Can you do a two person teleport? Because I'm not leaving my cabin any other way. If someone starts giving me their mind cooties again, I can't be held responsible for my actions. [He's just going to igore everything else you said because trust, what is that?

Also, he's going to glare in response to your amusement.]

[private]

[can_has_vodka]

That is true to a point. But the truth is that a combination of practical and psychic applications will get you the most information.

[A mental eyeroll.]

Yes, I can do a double teleport. I'll be right down.

[private]

[huge_egomd]

[He sees that mental eyeroll...in a manner of speaking.]

Fabulous. I'll be waiting.

[spam]

[can_has_vodka]

*KSHT*

[She knocks on his door a few moments later.] hullo!

There will be a moment's disorientation, but I think you'll like the setup when we get there.

[spam]

[huge_egomd]

It can't be more disorienting than suddenly being consumed by someone else's emotions.

[He doesn't want anything to do with telepathy but the ability to teleport would be totally cool, especially for a guy with a bad leg.]

What do I need to do?

[spam]

[can_has_vodka]

Just take my hand.

[When he does, the world goes white for a second, and then they're standing on a grassy hill with her couch and living room furniture set up cozily on it.]

[spam]

[huge_egomd]

[He plants his cane on the ground until the brief sense of disorientation passes. Then he looks around at her furniture.]

That's a different take on interior decorating.

[spam]

[can_has_vodka]

It's exterior decorating! Pick a seat. [Amusement/affection.] Have you ever noticed how outdoor furniture just isn't comfortable enough?

[spam]

[huge_egomd]

So it is. [He moves over to the couch and, looking somewhat awkward, sits.]

Honestly, I don't spend a lot of time using outdoor furniture. Don't really spend a lot of time outdoors at all.

[spam]

[can_has_vodka]

I love it. But we're out of doors a lot in Whitechapel because we're living in converted ruins.

[Curiosity, and a tiny bit of trust, like a mint on a pillow.]

I can wander off if you want, though I do like talking to you, and I'll answer anything you come up with.

[spam]

[huge_egomd]

I like my comfort. [And living in ruins would make his exterior world too much like his interior world.]

It's your party; you can do what you want. [He shifts, looking ill at ease.] Wait, okay--I have a question. How long did it take to graduate your last inmate?

[spam]

[can_has_vodka]

[She stops to think.] My last Inmate wasn't mine to begin with. His original Warden had to step aside so that he could focus on his apprenticeship. But from what I have observed most graduations take six months to a year.

[spam]

[huge_egomd]

And who decides when an inmate is ready to graduate--the warden or the Admiral?

[spam]

[can_has_vodka]

Admiral. For which I'm [genuinely] sorry. From what I have seen he has a sort of standard for how much an individual person needs to progress and what the specific issues are. But it varies from person to person.

You...well, you're a complicated man...I'm sure you and I are going to get into it along the way but hopefully not to the point where you are working against yourself. Ultimately you have control over how long you stay here, but the process of doing so is often a very, very bitter pill to swallow.

[spam]

[huge_egomd]

It's bitter because it's laced with cyanide.

[yeah, he's prone to be overly dramatic. And that working against himself? That's one of his favorite hobbies.]

So far everyone else gets what they want: the Admiral gets to play god, you get to save your planet and everyone else gets to be free of dealing with me. If you know anything about me, you know that making other people happy isn't high on my list of priorities so the big question from my perspective is what do I get out of it?

telepathy?

[zeitgeists]

[Another practiced telepath, hm?

Joshua debates with himself before even reaching out to her. It'll reveal his powers, what he is at least and edge of what he is, depending on her strength - and most of the wardens don't even seem to be aware of that. Either they don't bother looking at the information for new inmates, or they're not allowed to look at his information. Anyone who knows anything more about him than the image he casually projects is a risk.

But he's bored, and restless. He misses Mr. H, who knew him well enough it was almost like he was completely understood, which he's always known and insisted is impossible.

So. It's not kind, but it's a response: he jabs at Arkady. It's not meant to be an attack, or even cause serious harm or discomfort - it's like the tap of a rubber hammer against a knee, testing. Joshua's mental presence is all silver and constrained, control, control, control.

Just curious, Arkady.]

Telepathy/keyword applies :D

[can_has_vodka]

[She's strong; very strong, her shields good but kind of translucent, with faint hints of the thoughts and emotions below. Her reaction to the post is a moment of shock. Then--]

**!!!**

[Delight; she's been rather lonely, though at least now there's Charles to "talk" to and sometimes the Doctor. But here's a new mind! She pokes back happily.]

telepathy for... now!

[plays]

[What a puppy. He wasn't expecting quite that happy a response to being kicked, even if it wasn't hard.

He'd be so much stronger if he wasn't hampered by the Admiral and the Barge. He is a semigod if not a demigod, after all. But his control, at least, is still impeccable.]

What an eager beaver. Hello there.

telepathy for... now!

[can_has_vodka]

Hullo! Hullo! [A very light probe of the smooth silver surfaces; she's fearless, curious, and most of all relieved.] I hadn't known any more of us were about!

[zeitgeists]

[He pushes back at her a bit. He's a private sort; the kind to keep people at arms' length, to his detriment but increased probability of survival. Not that he's bland, just subtle: there's striated overtones of dusky pink where he actually does care about things and blue where he has real feelings in there somewhere.]

I'm thrilled to have alleviated your solitude, in that case. How many of 'us' are floating around hereabouts anyway?

[can_has_vodka]

[It is a bit like pushing back an enormous golden retriever puppy; she goes, but with a feet-dug-in reluctance and possibly a lick or two.]

The Gallifreyans, but they're very private. Charles. That is it as far as I know.

[zeitgeists]

[Good heavens. He can see this is going to get sigh-worthy if she keeps up talking to him, but... it's refreshing to converse mind to mind again. Enough to make him keep at it, at least.]

And to whom do I owe the pleasure now, hmm?

[can_has_vodka]

[There's a purple glow to her mental touch, but she minds her manners a bit better after the initial enthusiasm.]

Arkady! I run the pub!

[zeitgeists]

[A bit more comfortable with that, he lets her rest there, not pushing to get her farther away or drawing her in. He's not comfortable even with close mental touch, this one.]

Where are you from, Arkady?

[can_has_vodka]

[A little purple-glowing info-bundle floats his way, full of images of a London that is half-ruined and drowned in twenty feet of water.] That's home! Yourself?

[zeitgeists]

[How perturbing. It doesn't look like anywhere that's on his earth - unless you discount natural disasters - and he's never been to London, but he hopes Shibuya never looks like that. Speaking of Shibuya, images pass back alone: the high-rises, chain stores and boutiques, full of stylish people crossing this way and that on their own errands. Glass and steel and splashes of color and a studiously polished, hip image to it all. Ah, Shibuya.]

Whatever happened there? Is your whole world like that?

[can_has_vodka]

Oh, what an elegant place your home is!

No, no, just Britain. [Though there is an edge of uncertainty since they don't have any way of telling how far the cataclysm reached.] We're going to fix it.

[zeitgeists]

It certainly can be. [Everything in response to Shibuya is a shifting morass of uncertain feels. There's real true love for his district, possessiveness, bitterness and nostalgia before he pulls it back.] It can be many things! Anyhow, what happened with your country? [He just asks it so baldly.]

[can_has_vodka]

[Sadness, bottomless sadness which she restrains like a barking dog on a leash.]

Earthquake. Subsidence. Twenty feet of flooding. It was a bit like that bit in Akira.

[zeitgeists]

[Ah, how sad... it's beautiful to him though, Arkady. That kind of sadness born out of love for a place, out of a wish for a bad thing not to have happened. Just, appreciation right back.]

Did many people die?

[can_has_vodka]

[She supposes it is rather romantic in its own screwed up way, but she's too close to the problem to see it...]

Yes, um...most of them. It was a very big bang.

[plays]

[It's easy to appreciate feelings when you don't have any, or hardly any.]

But humanity fights on! Well, good for you. How long ago was it?

[can_has_vodka]

Six years. [More images of Whitechapel; fat red strawberries and fresh bread for breakfast; the rancid horror that is tea wine; stolen vodka from Sirkka's, drunk on a rooftop.] We've started to help fix things and soon will.

[zeitgeists]

Who's that we, then? [A distant arms-length kind of approval; Joshua rests his eye kindly on what you are about. What a condescending tool.

It's genuine though at least.]

[can_has_vodka]

[Arkady reacts to this with a mental shrug; she's not here to tell him how to feel about himself. Instead she offers images of a circle of eleven oddly similar looking young men and women: her clanmates, joined to her in mind.]

[plays]

[He feels just dandy about himself really. He is a tool though.

Studying that image, and - well. That's all he's got for now really. Just gonna remember it.]

Thank you for being so forthcoming, dear.