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Post by The Tenth Doctor on Apr 19, 2013 20:50:39 GMT -5
Well, this was sort of a weird occurrence, wasn't it? There was a rip in time and space... but not like other rips in time and space that just led to another dimension or something like that. No, this one was... different. This one happened to be a rip in something the Doctor was totally unaware of.. and, perhaps, something the Doctor shouldn't have been aware of.
It was a rip in something dubbed "the Fourth Wall", which the Doctor could only guess existed to protect something, hence the "wall" part. What worried the Doctor was the potential results of this rip. He had a lot of experience with dimensional anomalies, their results and having to fix the catastrophes they caused but... he'd still never seen something quite like this. Obviously, it was fascinating. Something the Doctor had never seen was something of a rare sight, considering that he'd traveled all over the world {and other worlds, for that matter} in his nine hundred years.
The TARDIS appeared in the middle of space, right nearby the rip. It must have looked a little bit silly, considering that it was a blue police box just floating around through space. The Doctor opened up the door to the TARDIS to get a look at the rip. He'd looked at space through the very same door so many times and seen so many planets through it... but he'd never seen something quite like this. It was a rip - quite literally, a rip floating in the middle of space as if it were on a wall. The Doctor ran his hand through his hair before heading back into the TARDIS.
Inside the TARDIS, he walked over to the TARDIS' control panel and began rummaging around. His sonic screwdriver had to be about somewhere. Sometimes he was a little annoyed at himself for cluttering the control panel with all of his technology. But, soon enough, he found it. The Doctor stepped back over to the door, pointed his sonic at the rift and... well, he got some odd readings. There seemed to be something else on the other side, as was obvious, but not what he expected at all. It wasn't just another world.... it was something totally new.
Suffice to say, he might have needed a little help with this one.
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Post by Doc Scratch on Apr 19, 2013 21:28:16 GMT -5
All in all, it was perhaps just a little boring to be a First Guardian. Especially a First Guardian whose planet was vaporized and no longer in existence. Granted, he had a master to serve, and a goal to work toward, and he was far from occupied with his non occupance with activty. But it was a touch boring, with all of the waiting. Naturally, he could make a thousand years go by while only a moment passed for him, but that would hardly let him get any closer to the completion of his tasks. Everything was laid out in a particular order, and had to be completed on time, down to the second. Rushing or delaying even the smallest thing could set the entire series of events out of sync and threaten everything he had worked for. This, and an impossible jumble of other thoughts ran to and fro within the spherical cranium of Doc Scratch as he stood in his study, arms clasped behind his back. Were his features visible, he would have been seen to be staring intently at the odd chessboard-colored object before him. Its purpose in relation to the Battlefield had been served and it was effectively useless in that regard. But he had retooled it to provide another function: it now served as a playing field for keeping constant watch over the many pieces of the master plan as they scurried about and did this and that. At the moment, his attention was focused solely on one particular piece of the puzzle. A being known simply as The Doctor. The tenth regeneration of the Last of the Time Lords, or so it was said. Last of them still in open space and free to do as he would, perhaps. But whatever he was, the Doctor was brilliant, and despite his propensity for nonviolence whenever possible, he had more than once caused worlds to burn, entire wars to collapse, and even the near unstoppable Daleks to feel fear and hesitate to deal with him. As far as silly little mortals went, the Doctor was impressive. And now he had hit something of a stumbling block. He had encountered a rare tear in the Fourth Wall itself, something that was not just rare, but exceedingly dangerous. And the Doctor, even with all of his experience and his brilliance.....this wasn't something he was solving on his own. And it was something that could very well endanger his plans if left unattended. Turning on one heel, he paced over to his typewriter. And without even touching it, he set his plan into motion. Across space and through time, the message was sent, reaching the Doctor's TARDIS and accessing his Pesterchum client, activating the software without user request and displaying a message on one of the many screens in the ship. There was no sender, only a message.
Hello, Doctor.
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Post by The Tenth Doctor on Apr 19, 2013 22:30:15 GMT -5
From behind him, the Doctor heard a familiar beeping noise. It was the sound of pesterchum, a chat client he installed while visiting another dimension. That was a weird dimension, what with it's... general strangeness. He'd actually seen a few of it's residents hanging around this dimension, which wasn't weird considering the nigh-constant rifts. This messager was probably from that dimension as well. Either that or he was a dimension traveler who also had pesterchum and felt the need to contact him via pesterchum. One of them was obviously much more likely.
The Doctor headed back into the TARDIS, shutting the door behind him. Who knew what could pop out of that portal and get into the TARDIS? The Doctor placed the sonic screwdriver back onto the console, not taking overly special care to ensure it wasn't lost again out of sheer forgetfulness, before pressing a few buttons on the console. A nearby screen activated, showing the Doctor what was going on. At first, it looked like nobody was contacting him. The Doctor, knowing better than that, quickly tapped another button. The screen changed it's display from white to black, and now the white text was easily visible.
The Doctor stared at the words for a moment, contemplating what they meant before realizing that he actually needed a keyboard. The Doctor rushed into another room, this one full of odds and ends. After rummaging through a particularly strange stack of technology, he found a keyboard buried underneath a Cyberman's leg and a Dalek's eye stalk. He certainly did collect some strange things. The Doctor hurried out of the room and practically jumped over to the console. He hastily plugged the keyboard into the console, pulled up a chair and set about to conversing.
DW: Hello!
DW: I'm a little bit busy right now
DW: So if you don't mind
DW: I have a bit of a fourth wall to repair???
DW: Well I mean
DW: Unless you want to help!
Hopefully that would get his message across. Whoever this strange, mysterious man was... well, the Doctor hoped he could help. The Doctor, coming up with a brilliant idea, quickly leaned over to the console and tapped a few buttons. He was running a location search for the other computer. After a moment or two, the search came up with nothing.
Apparently, he wasn't using a computer at all.
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Post by Doc Scratch on Apr 19, 2013 23:41:33 GMT -5
Though it took but an instant for him there in his study, he was aware it took the Doctor several seconds of scurrying about and rummaging among his many odds and ends to find some way to actually respond. Just as expected, and it allowed Doc Scratch to busy himself with other tasks about his study for the brief instant he alotted to the task. And as soon as the Doctor had finished finding his keyboard and begun responding, he had finished his preparations and returned his attention to his typewriter.
Yes, Doctor, that is why I have contacted you.
I am well aware of your Fourth Wall problem, and I am quite capable of lending assistance.
But I am afraid I cannot do so with this current arrangement.
It was true enough. With the Doctor's TARDIS being so close to the rip in the Fourth Wall, the residual energy of the hole in spacetime along with the impossibly powerful quantum and temporal energy contained within the TARDIS itself made the point a virtual hotspot, limiting Doc Scratch's direct interference from the distance he was at a great deal. Even this simple communication was actually requiring some effort to maintain. A minor irritant, but one that could be dealt with easily enough.
If you would, please move your vessel exactly 0.034 Astronomical Units from the Tear.
And I will be able to assist you in a more helpful manner.
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Post by The Tenth Doctor on Apr 22, 2013 17:47:50 GMT -5
Well, at least he wanted to help. The Doctor could have definitely used some help, even if it was from mysterious white text from a non-computer. Although this mysterious messenger was definitely skeevy, the Doctor had to take what he could get. Of course, he would ask a few questions later, if he got the chance to. At that exact moment, though, the Doctor was much more focused on the task at hand - getting the rip in the universe to close before it began bringing things from whatever was beyond it into that world. That sort of thing could have caused a catastrophe, and that would have been very hard to fix.
DW: Arrangment?
DW: No idea what you mean but
DW: I'd be very grateful for the help!
DW: This is sort of a bad situation after all
Thankfully, the white text popped up again telling the Doctor how to make it easier for him to help. Apparently, he had to move the TARDIS. That was easy enough, but the whole "approximate" thing might prove a challenge. The Doctor stood up and turned to the console, eyeing all of the buttons. He definitely knew how to make the TARDIS travel, just not such a short distance. The Doctor circled the panel for a moment, looking around at all the buttons. Eventually, he spotted a small screen, underneath which were a few switches, dials and buttons. The Doctor knew exactly what he'd found, and it would definitely help him move the TARDIS. After setting the coordinates on the screen, the Doctor pulled a nearby switch.
The TARDIS, moving rather smoothly for once, floated exactly 0.034 Astronomical Units away from the tear. The Doctor returned to his chair, picked up the keyboard and started typing again.
DW: That should do the trick
DW: Hope you can do your thing now!
DW: What is your thing by the way?
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Post by Doc Scratch on Jun 19, 2013 1:26:04 GMT -5
As expected, the Doctor wasn't quite clear on his meaning. But all the same, he readily accepted the offer of help, given the severity of the situation. He would have, honestly, been a fool not to. Busying himself with other tasks of far greater importance than keeping one miniscule universe from collapsing from a critical reality failure, Doc Scratch disappeared entirely from his study. His business kept him away for several days worth of conventional time, but he returned almost the instant he had left, seeming merely to flicker for a moment, like a stutter on old film. Waiting patiently for the Doctor to move his vessel -- a rather marvelous feat of technology, to be sure, the TARDIS was -- Doc Scratch already had his own message waiting to be sent in reply to the one that came moments later.
Very good. I will assist you shortly.
And at that, he vanished entirely, for much longer than an instant.
As for what my "thing" is, Doctor.
Please open the door, and you will see.
At the exact instant the message would appear on the Doctor's screen, there would come a knock at the door of the TARDIS.
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Post by The Tenth Doctor on Jun 21, 2013 19:11:11 GMT -5
A knock came at the TARDIS door. Yep, a knock on the TARDIS door... right in the middle of space. More importantly, right near a weird crack that even the Doctor couldn't identify. Well, that probably wasn't great news, although it could be his mysterious contact. In fact, judging by his latest message, that was definitely right. Taking no time in replying, since it probably wouldn't even mean anything by this point, the Doctor stood up and slowly walked over to the door. There was no telling what he'd find when he opened the door. Hopefully it would be a little normal.
The Doctor opened the door, revealing a short man with... a cueball for a head. Well, if that wasn't strange, the Doctor wouldn't know strange if it smacked him in the face! Well, at least now he understood the white text and everything - it was all some sort of weird cueball theme, it seemed. Well, the Doctor assumed that if he had a cueball for a head he would probably base everything around it too. It was understandable. "Hello!" The Doctor greeted, giving the strange man a wave. "I'm guessing you're the..." The Doctor paused before gesturing towards the screen. "...White text guy?"
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