Considering Fractured Reality

[some_go_mad]

No.

I don't dream. And I don't have time to sleep.

Comments

[ofdrumsthesound]

I mostly have nightmares.

[some_go_mad]

You don't enjoy the slow decay? [Oh, come on, feeling yourself eat your own body and mind away is fun!]

[ofdrumsthesound]

It's not that so much as it's the Time War flashbacks.

[some_go_mad]

Oh, but memory honors the fallen. [So very sarcastic.]

[ofdrumsthesound]

Memory sucks, is what it does.

[some_go_mad]

Memory is the measure of a Time Lord. Don't tell me you think it's a burden. [That's the way cowards think. Gallifreyans who couldn't stand up to what it means to live and live and live. Who couldn't learn to take pleasure in watching everything die.]

[ofdrumsthesound]

Well, I could do without my memories of the War.

[some_go_mad]

[Tch. He makes a quick, dismissive sound of disgust.]

[ofdrumsthesound]

You like those memories, then?

[some_go_mad]

Like? [He laughs, short and sharp.] They're mine. [Anything that's his, he keeps. End of story.]

[ofdrumsthesound]

And I wouldn't give them up, but I wish they never were.

[some_go_mad]

If wishes were horses, all the dogs on Earth would be fed.

[ofdrumsthesound]

If wishes were horses then fools would ride.

But sometimes I can't help wanting. The heart has needs the brain can never know, and we have two hearts each.

Bit of a flaw, that.

[some_go_mad]

And when did you become a poet? I haven't been a romantic for decades.

[ofdrumsthesound]

I'm having a bit of an odd day. It happens.

. . . want to get someone to eat? I'm the only person I can ever convince to join me, and English seriously needs more pronouns. Tenses, too.

[some_go_mad]

Then let's use something else. [He switches to Gallifreyan without a pause.] What, we run someone down and divide them up over tea?

I write Gallifreyan with the proper tenses :D

[ofdrumsthesound]

We/I/alternate self/speaking self possibly-future-become well fed.

That is to say, yes.

[bumpyleaf]

Whaaaat? You really don't sleep?

[some_go_mad]

[...A kid. The Master is not a fan of kids.]

No, I don't sleep. I hide under beds and eat small children instead. [Snarksnarksnark.]

[bumpyleaf]

You can't be the monster under the bed! I'm the monster under the bed!

[some_go_mad]

[...]

Prove it. Go find a bed. Scram.

[bumpyleaf]

Okay. We will meet again, Mr. Monster!

[some_go_mad]

Don't push your luck. [Though 'Mr. Monster' has a decent ring to it. He'll have to see if he can find a chance to use that someday.]

[or_timelords]

You don't dream? You're such a liar, of course you dream. I dream. When I sleep. Which I don't do that often. But I do do it occasionally. I slept yesterday, actually. That wasn't on purpose, though, that was really more being unconscious. Is that the same thing as sleeping? I've never been able to figure that one out.

[some_go_mad]

[...]

You are such an idiot.

[or_timelords]

[. . .] Why thank you. Likewise.

So what's that about dreaming or not dreaming? Something going on I should know about?

[some_go_mad]

I can tell the difference between sleeping and passing out. [Not answering your question!]

[or_timelords]

Can you? How? Except for knowing what happened before, there's no way for you to know if you're sleeping or unconscious. Since you're not conscious at the time. Hence no thoughts. Hence no telling the difference. [Q. E. D.]

[some_go_mad]

[Crossing his arms and sneering at you.] What are you trying to do? Distract me?

[He has no idea how anyone you travel with puts up with your babbling, Doctor.]

[or_timelords]

[Anyone he travels with has a much higher tolerance for, well, pretty much anything, than you do.]

Distract you? From what? If anyone's distracting anyone, then it's you distracting me. You didn't answer my question.

[sinkme]

Lud love me, sir, you don't dream! I say, how tragic.

[some_go_mad]

I say, where did the multiverse dig you up?

[sinkme]

England, my dear chap, where else?

[some_go_mad]

Where else, indeed. Trust the Empire to let its pantomime daydreams loose in the multiverse.

[sinkme]

[lol what.] Indeed! Indeed indeed.

Od's fish, m'dear, sleeping's not so bad. Think of it as a little holiday!

[some_go_mad]

[Did you just call him "dear"? What. He says.] No. [Sneering. Nyah. So there.]

[sinkme]

Such a sour face. Cheer up, my dear chap. It's not all bad.

[pawnofrassilon]

Well, hello there, me.

's been a while.

[some_go_mad]

A familiar face. [Grins, though it's sharp. Alternates have the potential to be rivals/enemies/irritants, even ones he knows.] Confined to any jamjars lately?

[pawnofrassilon]

[Well, that earns a derisive snort.]

Happily, no. But not for lack of her incessant window shopping. As if she'll ever find a place that can hold me.