The psychic burst fades away, as does the residual energy.  Trav feels staggered and shaken in its wake.

(Oddly, Smoke Alarm and Trav's other companions don't seem to have been so strongly affected.  Smoke just feels as if she's binged on too much fizz-ade.)

"I did not expect that," Herresas says slowly.  "But I did see what it means, in the flavor of Warlock's past and his future.  The block transfer device -- the TAROT.  His genes hold an interface to it, and it to him, but there is a great time differential in the symbiotic link.  That TAROT is from his future: it is likely to be far more experienced and subtle than he is, following its own agenda.  But what was that message?  Was it perhaps fighting itself?  Trying to warn you to flee?"

Trav stands. She remembers thundering through her head the soft, subtle images of when she interfaced with Ever's TAROT.

"Oh. Oh, fuck. I have a bad headache." Those who are psychic senses might see impressions of both past and future Travellers, superimposed over this one - one with brown hair, droopy eyes and a wise smirk, one with purple hair with a Rassilon Orobouros on each wrist, the young-wise face of the first traveller.






"I... I think I have a clue as to what is happening. First, sister, you're not using entirely correct language - TARDISes and other vortex craft created using the Omega model exist in all points in time. The TAROT here is the same TAROT of Warlock's future self. It... was kind and gentle to me, after being a bit trepidatious. It said I had freed all of it's kind, before the block-matrix identification protocols granted me War Council clearance."

She looks sadly at the deck of cards. "There could be more TAROTS out there, or it could mean every instance of that one TAROT. I think it's asking for, and needs, our help."

Trav explains - "We've received a number of clues, all cryptic. I resided for a long time in another universe in which making miracles was a craft - what we would call magic. I bent every bit of my Time Lord intellect towards figuring out how the 'magic' there worked, and I was baffled from day one. I like to think I'm pretty smart. Anyway, one thing I learned is that when presented with cryptic things, the way to interpret them is not to try to solve them like a puzzle, but instead take them on their own terms. Visions can sometimes only be interpreted by by intuition, metaphor, simile, poetry. I'm sure you ladies would appreciate that."

"Maybe we should assemble the visions, the clues, the cryptic words, and try to put them together. I'd also be interested in the technical details of what you may have found. I apologize for my earlier rudeness but... the War still lingers in me. I don't think it's ever going to go away. Thank you for your assistance, Elder Sister Herresas."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:52, Sat 07 June 2014.

Settling down now, Smoke blinked away the bright light and finding her tummy felt funny. 'Erg. Fast and silly. she groaned, then looked to where Traveller had gone all dizzy. Grabbing her friend to support her, Smoke helped her to the ground, grunting with the effort. 'Yerg. Fall and sits.' she said kindly. But Smoke Alarm seemed to be talking strangely. Strangely even for Smoke Alarm. 'Lady falters, sing. Falling dry seats.'

But she wasn't unbrave or unbold, just smiling and happy like she had all the knowhow. Mayhaps the Kang's child-like mind had received the message too, or mayhaps it was just the Kangs' scrambled speech patterns, their love of children's games, or just long practice at deciphering their text messages that helped Smoke Alarm knowhow the message. 'Don't outlook, eyespy! Something beginning with G.' Smoke pulled out her spray-paint and scrawled big letters on the floor:

GALLYFREI STANDS

'It's an amagran!'
This message was last edited by the player at 08:43, Fri 11 July 2014.

Trav blinks. "Gallifrey? Did I ever tell you about Gallifrey, baby?" She is still kneeling, now her gloved hands running carefully along the freshly tagged floor. She looks up at everyone. "Gallifrey is *dead*. I saw it burn with my own eyes." A pause. "What does this mean?"

"I suspect it means it's not as dead as you think. Not even you are perfect, I suspect."

The Draconian had been quiet, but observing.

Trav sits on the floor, staring at the letters. "Understatement of a billion years, baby." She looks up at the Sisters.

She goes white as the implications go through her mind. "Oh, no. If somehow Gallifrey has survived...that would mean...that the War would would return. That means the Doctor died for nothing. That means that the cosmos is in dire, dire peril."

If anything could be worse than her home gone, this was worse. This meant that, if Rassilon and the maddened high council of the Time Lords had survived, she'd have to go to war with her own people. And if the Time Lords could return, then so could The Daleks.

She's leaning back on the floor, trying to catch her breath. She was strong, but even this was all too much to take in all at once.

But she was The Traveller, dammit. She was not going to fucking panic.

She gratefully take's Smoke's proffered hand. "Thank you, sweety. This can mean a lot of things." She starts lining things up in her mind. Certainly, Rassilon could do something like this. But, for all his brilliance, the founder of Time Lord society was blunt. That's part of the reason that he had the Marshall and the Master prosecute his war for him, he had no head for military style tactics, and certainly would find using devil imagery laughable.

"Waitasec. Something just occured to me. Tarot cards are native to *Earth*. Why on Earth would a Time Lord artifact take on the form of a deck of Terran playing cards? Warlock, in your last life, did you ever dabble in the occult, do tarot, practice chaos magick or were a pagan or anything like that?"
This message was last edited by the player at 05:52, Sat 07 June 2014.

'You did! On our first lights-on in the talkiphone box. After I made the scrap-heap. You told me about Gallifrey and the Doctor.' she reminded Traveller of their first morning, eating doughnuts and looking at the picture-spout on the ceiling. 'Caution. Wet paint.' she warned. She didn't get why Traveller wasn't happy about this. Wasn't it good news? 'It means the towers still stand. Mayhaps the peoples aren't unalive. Mayhaps the Doctor.'

As Traveller starting about the magic cards again, Smoke outlooked back down at her wall-scrawl, hoping she had it right. Sly lifts a danger.

Warlock looks a trifle irked by the question, but when he answers, it's in a patient tone.

"Absolutely not," he says.  "I was studying for my bachelor's in physics, and before all this happened, you'd have been hard pressed to convince me of much that you couldn't prove.  I only ended up at that 'fair' you found me at because it was a dull Sunday, and I happened to be passing by.

"And I thought you were supposed to practice science too, Traveller.  At least enough to not mistake correlation for causation.  You remember what TAROT stands for, right?"  He holds out his hand and the deck is there, slightly buzzing with power, and he looks at it warily.  "'Transformational Archetypes Refactoring Orthogonal Time.'  Those images represent structures in the underlying mathematical basis of the universe, but the images aren't hard-coded into the device: they emerge from the numbers.  My theory -- scratch that; my hypothesis -- is that the cards and the symbology that go into them, the ones that eventually got adopted by occult traditions on Earth, derived from the way that those numeric structures shaped the human collective unconscious."

"Oh, I'm sorry baby. It's been a long time since I hung out with Pythagoras. This stress is making me sloppy."

She rubs her temples. "So, sisters. What are your findings? What do you think of all of this?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:11, Sat 07 June 2014.

"Think of what, exactly?" Herresas asks.

"It does not appear to me that Warlock's genetic makeup has been manipulated since he was created or born.  If he has been, then it would have been done with a subtlety equal to that with which the Gallifreyan nuclei were grafted to the human.  The self-defending code seems to have been always meant to behave that way.

"Second... I am likely not as familiar with the omnitemporal nature of Warlock's symbiont device as you would be, Traveller.  I am a student and architect of life, not of vortex technology or hypermathematics.  But just going by your story and what we have just witnessed, I believe that it was designed with inbuilt protocols to protect its own secrets and those of Warlock, but has been struggling to give you the key to unlock those protocols for some time now.

"That key does not, to me, clearly show anything about the identity or the nature of Warlock's designers.  Obviously the key phrase which your young human friend--" (Herresas indicates Smoke Alarm) "--uncovered, seems to confirm that a Time Lord or Time Lords were behind his creation and would seem to trace him to the period of the War.  I doubt that it identifies an individual, as that was such a common rallying cry.  Even if it did, it might merely point to the one who implanted the key phrase, not the one who developed the entirety of the code.

"What you do with that key is your choice and his choice, and perhaps you should discuss that with him.  You know that we have some ability to affect his makeup, with the use of that key.  It may be possible to extract the Gallifreyan grafts and restore his unmodified human heritage.  It may be possible to remove certain incarnational sequences from his biodata.  Either seems very risky to me, particularly as so much in the way of the genetic heritage of the Gallifreyan people is lost to us as a basis for comparison and design.

"Does that help you, Traveller?  Warlock?  Or are there other concerns or questions on which you would wish my insight?"

"Thank you for your insight thus far. The tricky thing is that our friend here combines aspects of -both- things. A Time Lord and his or her TARDIS are one, when in flight and operation. TARDISes are living beings, and the relationship that we have with our time craft is intimate. I'm the last Time Lord, as far as I know - I take my responsibility to protect the Time Vortex, and the beings that live within this universe, very seriously."

"What I'm really worried about is someone trying to make him into what he essentially isn't.  He was... abused, similar to how I was at the hands of the Daleks. He barely escaped. Some agency was trying to force him into becoming a force for evil that would use his device on their behalf. It says a lot about him that he succeeded where I failed. He is a good man, I became a monster. I don't want whoever was responsible for his abuse to succeed. I suspect that their may be powers that are still trying to influence his transformation into something awful."

Trav turns the talk back to Warlock -

"As for what eventually ends up happening to you, Warlock, that's entirely up to you. If you want to become a normal human, I'm here to help. You ladies can have full access to me if you need a template for a Gallifreyan, I'm not even halfway through my entire regeneration cycle. If you want to stay how you are, and explore the universe with that partner of yours, then I'm down for that too.  Maybe an old gal like me can show him a thing or two. I only want what's best for you. It's your choice and your right. We may even be able to make give you your old face and self back, if that's what you want. I'd be happy to burn off a regeneration for that - it seems like it would be an equitable trade. I still couldn't make up for what happened to you, but at least you could return to a peaceful life on Earth.  Well, kinda peaceful, being in 2013. I'd give up all of my lives to make what happened to you not have happened."

"Ladies, do we need to worry about forces from the far end of time controlling or influencing Warlock against his will? Is that a question you can answer?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:16, Sun 08 June 2014.

Warlock is still and quiet after Trav speaks to him.

While he thinks, Lasca takes the blue cup on the far right of the table and fills it.  She dabs a corner of the white cloth in the cup after she swirls it for a moment, and then traces it along the cut on his arm.  Unmarred skin is left behind.  Warlock doesn't seem to notice it.

At last he draws a deep breath.  "I don't think I'm quite ready to make that decision," he says.  "It's generous and brave of you to make that offer, Traveller.  I don't know that I've got the right to accept it.  In any case, I've made a great deal of unfinished work for myself.  The Fists.  I need to do what I've promised and stop what they're doing, before I can think of making any choice."

Herresas looks at Trav.

"I think we definitely need to worry about forces turning Warlock onto a darker path," she says.  "But I do not think that he is vulnerable to that because of his biology; in some ways he is uniquely armed against such interference.  I think he is in far greater danger from his own inexperience and his own uncertainty.  Traveller, you know that the greatest monster any person must overcome lives within them.  So it is with your friend."

Trav clutches her hat. "I guess that a lot of this is just as much about me as it is about him. Allright then, I'll take you at your word. Thanks for your insight, this helps a lot. Actually, it really puts my mind at ease."

She sonics the Ipad. "Here, keep this. This has information on a project I'm working on. The threat that Warlock is warning us against is quite real, I'm organizing a defense. Here's what I have so far." Included is everything that Trav has gathered since she first encountered the Chamber of Time Unwrought, including the chemical formualae for the syrette that was given to her by the Splintered Sisterhood. "Look up the Splintered Sisterhood entry. You ladies and they have a lot in common, and I'm sure you'll have a lot of interesting conversations. They're biological time-sight technique is fascinating and I'm sure it would interest you."

She also hands Herrasas a phone. "You're the closest thing I have to relatives these days, along with Warlock. I know that you ladies have your own defenses and ways of avoiding danger, but if you feel that you need me, yell. I will admit that I have my issues with you, but those can wait. You have a legacy that stretches from before the Time War, and it's an important one."

She looks around. "Speaking of legacy, this place looks awesome. You guys seem satisfied with caves when Boobie and I dropped by - that was in his celery days. Are you becoming more active or just want more plush digs?

"Awesome. I fully support any decision you make, baby. Think on this, but the Time Lord legacy is something I'd like to pass on. If you think you'd want to undertake that mantle, find me. It will be a long, hard road, especially as to make sure that whoever succeeds us do *not* repeat the mistakes of the elders of Gallifrey, but if you want, I'll begin to provide you with the education and the initiations that you need."

Trav taps her sonic against the side of her cheek, which indicates a wacky idea, incoming. "Ladies, in bizarre circumstances I've occasionally regressed to the appearance and personality of prior incarnations. Through your sciences, do you think it might be possible for Warlock to occasionally take Phillipes old face and personality? Could it cause harm? I'd love for Warlock to have both lives, instead of being forced to choose between one and the other."

Smoke Alarm outlooked impressed as Lasca used the blue cup to clean the red paint and make Wall Lock unhurt. But as the Big Talky Time went on, the Kang got bit yawny and her feets wanted to move. She didn't knowhow Wall Lock, the Fists' great architect, was now Traveller's best-friend-forever. Smoke Alarm had thought that was her. Leaving the floor-scrawl where it was, she footed off to outlook around the chamber, eyespying the coloured cups on the kitchen table and inlooking inside.

But Smoke Alarm could smell smoke and burning, and followed her nose to the shiny metal cabinet between the two fire ladies...

Herresas gives the Traveller a grave nod of acknowledgment.

"We do what we can to preserve the legacy of the Time Lords.  One day, even if it is millennia hence, there will be a people in the universe that will try to rise to true mastery of Time once more, and when they come, they will need to know the mistakes that were made by those who came before.  That is why we choose to live only in the synchronous continuum, and why we restrict our contact with the universe outside.  But it is good to know that at least one daughter of Gallifrey survived, and takes that legacy seriously in her own way."


"Long ago, a man aided us with a certain unpleasantness, and he impressed on us the value of change.  It is something we must hold in balance, remembering the mission that we have set ourselves.  However, the loss of so much that we knew finally convinced us that self-mortification was not identical to one's conviction an purpose.  And so we allow ourselves this change."  She lets a slight smile slip.  "And, if I may say it, not a moment too soon."

Herresas hesitates before giving an answer, and in the space of that pause, Warlock shakes his head.  "Regardless of whether it's feasible, I'm not at all certain that it's wise," he says.  "If, as the Sister suggests, there is some imbalance between the state of the TAROT in its timeline and me in mine, confusing it further by triggering a genetic shift could scramble things up worse than a zygma beam.  I want to work out a way to tell my family I'm all right, but I don't want to wreck my biological integrity just to do it."

The two red-robed Sisters eye Smoke Alarm warily as she approaches.  The shorter of the two warns her, "Do not approach the sacred flame," she says.  "The longevity it grants us is the underpinning of our mission of preserving the old knowledge, and we cannot run the risk of an outsider interfering with it."

Smoke Alarm notes, belatedly, that the Sisters have short blades slung at their hips, though they have made no change in stance or posture that hints they might reach for those weapons.

Smoke Alarm stopped, but her head continued to jut forward. 'A flame? Can I eyespy it?' she asked curiously. She'd seen flames before, but not sacred ones.


OOC: Insatiable Curiosity, a Smoke Alarm, and a Sacred Flame...

The Sister tilts her head to look curiously at Smoke Alarm.  "It is not impossible; it is not as if you were male, after all.  Before you did, though, you would need to commit yourself to the ways of the Sisterhood, learn the sacred rituals letter-perfect, and finally put on the red robe of a full Sister.  You seem to be a bright girl.  It should not take you more than, say, twenty-five years."

Trav fans herself with her hat. "Smoke, very Yawny. They don't ever go to the big pool in the sky, but they have to be entirely unfun. I'd rather be unalive than unfun. They're nice rezzies but they don't play games or wallscrawl or run. But if they'll let you see their flame, that's groovy." She smirks, poking some fun at the Sisters the way that Boobie did, back when he wore his scarf.

Trav smiles in a way that a mother proud of a son would when he says that. And Zygma beams! He knows about Zygma beams!

"If there's anything I can do to help with that, sweety, let me know."

Trav considers for a moment. This place, once she got everything into place, could be a sanctuary. Here, she could retire. But she shook her head. She'd get bored of this place in a week. When the time came to rest, she wasn't sure what she would do.

"I'm glad to hear that things worked out. I haven't felt any survivors in the Vortex, but I'm still hoping. Ladies, if you hear any whispers, any rumours of any survivors of Gallifrey from the war, please contact me, immediately. Also, let me know when a good time is, and you can tap my brain, figuratively speaking. I'm the last Time Lord. As per the ancient agreements, I'm at your disposal."

She looks the Sisters, in their new, somewhat more sensual attire, up and down. "Whoever this fellow was, it seems like he loosened you all up a bit. Back in the old days, I'd have though that the Corsair made a visit. I'd sure like to meet him."

"OK, gang, I think we're done here, unless anyone else has anything to ask or add."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:15, Mon 09 June 2014.