WAKE UP TIME!

Do you know how good it feels to actually get a full week's rest? Why couldn't I have done this sooner? Oh yeah, the drums. They hang around, but now it's like a soothing sound. Could say I've grown to love them. HA! No nightmares, no waking to a cold sweat and a drum beat. I feel like I could eat three cows worth of meat, but I'm awake. If I were human, I'd do this all the time. Phew.

SO, what have I missed, eh?

Just how many of you lot have been having nightmares lately? It seems pretty weird that some of you are having them at the same time. All I can give you is this advice: hold onto your courage, no matter what. Don't lose yourself to the fear. Just hang on and do your best! I know that's not much, but you'd be amazed at what a little determination can do. Take it from me! I'm a dream, myself. [giggle] Courage always vanquishes nightmares where I come from.

Anyway, I'm tired of the scenery, so I think I'm going to investigate a little. Speaking of - hey, Emizel! How about that fresh air I mentioned earlier? Want to get some with me?

Oh, and Mayor? Bite me! ♥

It smells like darkness. It can't be hers.But this. This has to be hers. Tainted by shadow.

It won't come off no matter how many times I wash it. No matter how many times I hide it away. I can bury it six feet in the ground and I can still feel it burning my nostrils. [the sound of hands being rubbed against a bristly face again and again]

Who? Who is doing this? Why? Why? [now a softer, plushier fur is brushed against the communicator]

Did she leave this on purpose? I hope.

[ooc: The Master has come to find Yorda's stuffed bear as seen in the picture here.]

What a delightful little trinket! It's so small and compact, a pocket device. And it flips opened, there is nothing more thrilling than flipping things opened! Of course it doesn't have nearly as many buttons and levers and pullies and screens and lights as I do.

Did. Do. Did...

Did. Yes, did as in this flesh body I don't have buttons or levers or pullies or screens and lights. That's almost tragic, I always was fond of blinky lights — they drove my thief mad when I set them off at the "wrong times." I do disagree that there is a wrong time, though. Blinky lights are the best lights, much better than plain old boring solid lights.

Oh! Suddenly I'm finding myself realizing this flesh body is that one of the woman's from... But now that's interesting, isn't it? How did that happen? I thought I was back in... Stranger things have happened, I suppose. Do you know how incredibly uncomfortable it is to have a TARDIS land within another TARDIS?

Very squishy.

But!
Perhaps it's time to get back onto track, so to speak.

Hello new world of many that I have been placed onto... I'm Sexy. And I'm looking for my thief.
Have you seen him?

[the recording begins with a loud clatter, and a desperate cry in Yorda's usually soothing voice can be heard] No!

[and then there's the sounds of struggling, as though Yorda is fighting with all her might to break free, and of heavy, sure footsteps and soft, dragging ones on strange earth. And there's a terrified gasp and a quiet sob - Yorda again - and the noises abruptly vanish.

Many more moments of relative silence pass, with only the sound of soft winds rustling through crystalline leaves, until the distinct sound of a curious chocobo picking at something - probably journal keys]

Kweh!

[and suddenly, the recording cuts out]

Oi.

Anyone out there know the whereabouts of a Rory Williams? A minute ago, he was here, and I turned around and he was gone.

[Private to the Doctors]

Space...man? Men?  Anyway, He's not with you is he?

To whom this might interest,

I noticed the city has been rather slow on certain affairs. How about some help?

There's a girl named Yorda. From my analysis, that woman is made of light. Even more intriguing is the fact that she has darkness within her as well. I noticed it once...
Hmhmhm, I'm not an expert on those matters, perhaps you could examine her? I'm aware this subject about light and darkness is of great interest to you.

I will gladly hand her over to you, for no price whatsoever... just take her far away. I'm certain you won't refuse such a fine offer as this. 

[A few moments of hesitation, and Yorda's voice is heard. She's even quieter than usual, sounding apprehensive and even a little afraid. She also sounds as though she's been running for awhile.]

Mao, please come back soon. There is something wrong.

Timon! I'll have you ready, I'm going to pick you and your friend up. Get your coat - wait, don't get your coat, you're already wearing it. You can't take it off because you're born with it. Forget the coat thing!

We're going to get a fez!

And Rory, don't think I've forgotten you. I'll come and get you soon, just stay out of trouble.

Dearest Paixao, the time has come! The air is about to be filled with the sound of war's beating drum.

No man can make a fool of us and expect to live. What happened to myself is not something we're prepared to forgive. Even if our memories are not quite clear, we assure you this man still has a great deal to fear.

Because it is a war we declare against him and anyone else who dares to stand in our way. This is one debt we insist he has no choice but to pay!

Oh-hohohohoho~!

For those who wish to find peace, prayer or absolution - or merely a place for quiet, you are invited to the chapel of St Ibriel the Dreamer. This is located a little way from O Pastor in the Niflheim district.

All are welcome, but it is requested you leave grievances and violence at the door, and endeavour to keep your voice down once you are inside.

And if you are interested, I have indeed managed to grow a few flowers.

I want to make sure all of you hear this. The show is about to start.

[the sounds of chaos that accompany the Master's skeletal flashes, followed by sounds of snapping in reverse]

The period before and after a Time Lord's passing gives flexibility to the cellular regeneration, making any injuries obsolete. Why was I attempting to be alive forever, when I can be forever immortal by dying?!

[hearty laughter]

By constantly dying, I can feed myself my own flesh and keep myself alive as long as I can. By dying, I keep myself alive. By dying, the only way to stop me is to end my existence!

[aside] Sorry, love. A show with no dinner. Thanks for the sweet though.

[footsteps approach the device, a quick click and the journal is shut off]

So quiet, but the loud drumming, a child laughs and a lion roars. Where did my companions go?
SO HUNGRY.

[sounds of feeding]

No one left to see to me, the king of the wasteland.
Everyone left to see to themselves. I need to eat.

Too many Doctors, not a single cure.
Sickness, pestilence, war, time, death,
who cures this? When will I get to end?
I'm so hungry.

Not one to trust, not again,
never again, not like last time,
not like my fathers,
no, not again.

[further sounds of feeding]

Starving.

Are there any scientists in this city with experience in the fields of non-invasive neural interface, spatial compression, variable geometry construction, directed energy manipulation, nanotechnology, and compact or theoretical drive systems? Specialists would be preferred.

[An energetic, youthful voice crackles on the message board, broadcasting to anyone who'll listen. It sounds rather annoyed, though that quickly changes to enthusiastic amusement]

Alright, when’s this? This isn’t where I set the coordinates. The air smells… off. It’s an artificial world, isn’t it? Ah-hah, so that’s it. Right, then. I'm the Doctor; what seems to be the problem here? And don’t tell me there isn’t; I know trouble when I see it, and this is definitely troublesome. No, not the end of the uni – ah, maybe. But that’s alright, I’ve done this before, I’ll do it again. It’s the universe; something’s got to happen. So, then, what is it? Is there despair? Danger? Is the tea getting cold? Blimey, I hate it when that happens.

I can reset the TARDIS coordinates to five minutes past Amelia later. This is brilliant! New-old world where something’s not quite right; classic.

I have yet to address the city as a whole since my election to the position of mayor, and for that, I do apologize. But at last I have selected my staff who, over the next few days, will be aiding myself in rejuvenating Paixao. We have already begun the simpler stages of this process; now, we are to act, and the fruits of efforts will soon be on display for all.

I take the time now to address any pressing matters that any of our foreigners may currently have.




Mayor Marcus Praetoris

Good news, Paixao-ans? Paixaooanin...

GOOD NEWS, PEOPLE OF PAIXAO.

The so-called "Mayor" has decided to schedule his first interview since the election with yours truly. Ooh, I'll have to find something special to wear. So, as for all that burn the place to the ground nonsense, it'll have to wait for another time. I do apologize for the false advertising. But really...

WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW? YOU CAN'T HEAR THE DRUMS. [tap tap tap tap]

HAHAHAHAHAHA...

[ooc: this is after the previous message board entry that got everybody so flustered, and before the current log of the meeting. apologies for not posting this beforehand. your heroic characters may feel free to berate him or at least breathe a sigh of relief. your comedic characters can ponder exactly what the term is for a paixao citizen. your evil characters can call him a wuss and tell him to kill everyone anyway.]

We have gotten the results counted for the elections. You may thank a certain meerkat for the delay, who barged in and demanded a recount when we were initially prepared. We will not do another recount, thank you.

The new mayor of the City of Paixao is Marcus Praetoris. It may take us all time to transition.


[Private to Timon]

Timon, I would like my pen back, if you'd please.