- 5 - You may delay, but time will not.

[toobravehearted]

[ There's a good deal of banging, whirring and clanking inside the TARDIS this evening and the noise is not of the good sort. What's that? Oh, that's another panel being tossed aside, followed by scuffling as the Doctor wriggles in waist deep under the console. Don't mind the sounds of a Doctor at work, or his muffled voice. ]

What? What on Metabelis 3 are you doing there? Right, well, that explains that...

[ Since coming back from the expedition the Doctor has been quiet and busy, distracted and out-of-sorts. The thought that the condition the old girl is in might very well be his price... No. It's unacceptable. He has to explore all the options before even admitting it might be true. He's felt the need to be ready, and with being grounded, he's feeling it more and more.

Hauling himself out of the hole he created, he's off at breakneck speed around the console. Setting co-ordinates, flicking switches, frowning at a yearometer that may as well be a bank of question marks for all the good it is to him in Paradisa. Traveling in time is out of the question. But there's no good reason why the TARDIS can't travel at all. Sequence set, he's lost count of the attempts he's already made.

The familar vworps start and it's like music to his ears, but it's a few seconds only before he meets failure. The vworps turn into a painful whine, the floor judders violently while alarms begin to sound and he has no choice but to abort because none of that is right at all.

There's silence for awhile. Disappointed, frustrated and weighing up options, he knows there are at least two last resorts he can try and one of them isn't an option at all. He's been reluctant to try for good reason. Eventually he takes the journal and scribbles a filter. ]

Filter: York

York? Are you around? I'm sorry to ask, but do you have a moment?

/Filter

Comments

[ensorceler]

What seems to be the predicament, Doctor?

[toobravehearted]

Ah, hello, your Majesty. So sorry about the- yes, noise. [He sends a glare at his journal, darn thing.] You've made a good question there. Short answer... I'm not sure.

[ensorceler]

Then offer me the long answer.

[toobravehearted]

Honestly Queen Anne, I fear you will think I am telling you a very tall story. [All right, all right. He sighs.]

I have a machine – an engine, if you will - usually capable of fourth dimensional travel; carrying its occupants from one place to another. Except, here at Paradisa it is not capable of travel anywhere and I am attempting to repair it. There is no sound reason that I can find as to why my machine will not travel in at least three dimensions, further compounded by the fact that I am painfully aware the last time it was here, travel was very much possible.

[He’s just going to wait now. That’s a version reserved for breaking people in gently, especially for 16th Century royalty. Wait, he has Deja Vu...]

[ensorceler]

[ Okay she'll just go with the flow like whatever this happens all the time. ]

You say this...machine could transcend realms not long ago? From here?

[pint_sized_carnivore]

Uh, is everything okay there Doc?

[toobravehearted]

Chie, hello. Sorry, not the best, no.

How are you doing? Feeling better?

[pint_sized_carnivore]

Yeah, I am. What are you doing?

[toobravehearted]

Glad to hear it. Repairs. Although not much repairing is actually going on. And you know, I'm quite good at them when I get going.

Doctor

[encryptedlock]

[Well, that doesn't sound too good.]

Course I do. What can I help you out with?

York

[toobravehearted]

[No. Alarms and whining rarely is.]

Could I- Would you mind if I borrowed your hands? The rest of you attached to them would be good as well. I recall you kindly suggested a once over-?

[He pauses a moment.] How are things with you?

Doctor

[encryptedlock]

[York chuckles, not really out of amusement but more because he knows that frazzled state of things.]

I've been worse. [Though, to be perfectly honest, not by a whole lot - but he's trying to keep his mind off of it.] I'll be right over.

[And since he lives across the hallway, knock knock.]

York

[toobravehearted]

[Frazzled? He is, just a bit. Frustrated and trying his best. Also concerned over York with that.] Thank you. I would really appreciate it.

And off he goes to let York in.] Please, come right in. You don't have to knock.

filter.

[wolfchild]

What are you doing? [ Adding to the collection of questions. ]

filter.

[toobravehearted]

Ah, making a lot of noise it seems. Repairs, although they aren't going the way I had planned. How are you, Arya?

filter.

[wolfchild]

Fine. Repairs on what?

filter.

[toobravehearted]

The TARDIS. I've been told before they have been long overdue, but, admittedly, not to this extent.

[wizard_redfive]

[Dairine flinches in her room at that noise. One perk, and sometimes problem, with being a wizard was she could hear the "voices" of machines and computer life. Understand the thought behind it. And what she got of that fworping was pain, confusion, and a whole lot of frustration.]

That... was not a good sound.

[toobravehearted]

No. Rather not, Dairine. [Looking at his journal, it's just the young lady he's been wanting to have a conversation with. He's cooled down by now, apart from current frustrations at least.]

Sorry for the noise. I forget how loud she can be. You're doing all right there?

[wizard_redfive]

[Dairine's voice is filled with concern but not about upcoming discussions. No, no. There's a machine friend in need.]

Of course. Is she all right? [No question as to which she.]

Dairine

[toobravehearted]

Good to hear that. As for the TARDIS, completely fine unless we attempt to move around Paradisa. [A sigh and his voice is forced optimistic next.]

She's been in worse states and... we'll work it out. Freelancer York kindly offered to lend me a hand and I've taken him up on his offer.

[There's a moment's pause before he scribbles in a filter.

Can we talk for a minute please, Dairine?

[deltacain]

Doctor?

Anything I can do?

[He doesn't bother with the 'are you alright' questions.]

[toobravehearted]

Oh, David. Thank you. I wish you could. A small – all right, a bit bigger than that – problem with mechanics. I don’t suppose you are familiar with quantum field and dynamorphic generators? [He asks that even with a bit of hope but with him coming from 1985? Probably not.]

[deltacain]

No... I'm not. Sorry.

Why? What's the problem?

[toobravehearted]

[That's a good question. He'll lay this one on him to begin with.]

I can't get my TARDIS to travel. Third dimension, well, I can't get it through the door, Fourth dimension, it should be possible and that's what I'm working on, and as for the Fifth dimension, I know that's out of the question altogether.