A Whirring Mind {khan}

[.๑whovian๑.]

It was the calm before the storm, no doubt. The young black stallion had needed time to think, he'd needed time on his own. This was unusual; he had always been lonely, for much of his long life, but now he was surrounded by so many people, it was wonderful. He had never been happier, well....his mind drifted back to the days after the Time War...those wonderful days when he'd been found, and healed. The broken pieces of his life put back together, and he'd felt like a whole person again. And then it had been taken away, like it always was. Ripped from him, and here he'd come. However, now was not the time to be thinking about that. Now was the time to be thinking about everything that had happened in the last few days.

First, there was Ali. She was such a mystery, almost as much as he was, (to him), and she was very intelligent. She was the right sort of horse to have around. She was pretty, clever, but she also needed to loosen up. She had been the first horse he'd come across. He liked her a lot, and she was a nice horse to travel with, however she didn't really understand who he was. She didn't quite get his way of thinking, and sometimes it got to him, but one day she would understand. He didn't think he quite understood her way of thinking either. They were pretty equal.

Then, there was Serena, whom he wasn't really sure about. Her and that Fly character...well, Fly was beyond his own comprehension, he was pretty sure she was cursed because she was crazy. Not that he had anything against her, she just wasn't really his type. Meaning she irritated him to no end. Serena was also rather irksome, she was such a child! She seemed so naive...that also related back to one of the many wonderful things about Ali, is that she was not only smart, she acted her age as well. He was starting to realize how very fond of her he was.

Sweeny and Jack, now those two just confused him. Sweeny seemed like he was crazy, but the black stallion knew exactly who he was, but how the hell he had gotten there, the Doctor had no idea. Perhaps in the same manner as he did? And why didn't Jack know who he was? Was he the only one aware of his existance? However, at that point, everything became so confusing (even for him, the all-mighty Time Lord) he didn't eve want to go there. However, he still enjoyed Jack's company none the less. Sweeny, well he did not really want an evil demon barber whose ambition was to slit all their throats with him, as homicidal companions were a potential problem, but hopefully the issue could be smoothed out.

The tall black stallion sauntered his way through the woods, without really a plan of direction, he just figured his hooves would take him back to the group again at some point. He was pondering Bristile's words to them, and to him. That horse was insane, or well, he wasn't a horse. He was sort of a horse. How did he know what the Doctor was though? Could he read minds? "No," the black stallion said aloud. "No he can definitely not read minds. He calls himself time, how is that possible? And I would know..." he trailed off, and then heaved an enormous sigh. He wasn't getting anywhere.

He decided to turn his mind to Bristile's riddles, and tried to work out what his words meant. One thing he knew, was that he could not stop the fighting. He also wasn't going to be able to avoid fighting himself, but that particular point he did not want to believe. Maybe way down deep he understood it was true, but he was fighting it for all he was worth. He would not be turned into a soldier. So many had died at his hands, he had caused so much pain, he wasn't going through that again. He stopped walking for a moment. "I won't." he said aloud. He continued walking again. He started walking faster and faster, the faster his mind whirred. What could he do? Could Bristile see the future? His power as a Time Lord seemed weakened for some reason, and the possibilities of the future were fuzzy, he couldn't see what couldn't happen, and that bothered him.

What did the God of Time want? What was going to happen? How come he was stuck here in the middle of a war? Was he supposed to stop it? But that didn't add up, because war seemed inevitable at this point. He knew Bristile's son was on the rampage, but what on earth was he supposed to do? Why was he here, somebody else should be here, not him! Not the peaceful old man, he'd seen too much death, too much war, he'd experienced too much loss, and he wasn't going to go through it again.

But he couldn't do anything about his situation either. There was nothing he could do. He was, for the first time in a long time, at the mercy of Time. And he did NOT like it.

words; 914
muse; pretty good
notes; he's slightly ooc, but I suppose he's in a really weird situation right now....

[.:.Gambler.:.]

Peter Vincent

There was little the stallion could do but watch and wait. There was no outward signs yet of a vampiric infestation, but he knew that there was one, if not two, among these unsuspecting horses. Whatever their path was; they may not even know that vampires existed. To the unsuspecting, vampires were just myths and legends. They had no real claim in the active life of an individual. They were just nightmares, they were just mockeries of childrens games. History twisted to fuel they over zealous minds of imaginative sadists.

But Peter Vincent knew better. He had seen the destruction that the vampire could cause. And he was determined to rid the world of such inhabitants. To make sure that no one else had to suffer as he did. And he knew that his ploy would come with a price; but he had his stakes ready, buried upon sacred ground that the demon prince could not ever hope to walk upon. For now, he just had to watch.

It wasn't so easy to pick out the irregularities of the vampire in this society though. Everyone it seemed had their strange quirks; everyone was hiding something in the recesses of their mind. No one around here was any more normal than Peter was. They all had some hidden agenda they were trying to work around, someone they were trying to run from, someone they were trying to protect...no one was just...there. Living their own life and not carrying about anyone else. They were dragging everyone else around with them.
Peter knew he could not get attached to any companions, no matter how his heart yearned for it. He knew that if he was truly in the lair of the beast as his senses told him, then he was constantly being watched. If he became involved with anyone, even as just friends, he knew that the vampire would use it against him. This vampire was a damned soul; and he wasn't about to let up his determined search for the boy he had let live.
It was a slightly pleasing thought; to think that the vampire was almost beginning to be afraid of what Peter had found out. It didn't mean that Peter had time to get haughty, but it was at least a minor comfort that he was finally getting something right!

He mumbled to himself and picked up a light walking pace, his eyes never lingering on one spot for long as he was always on the lookout for something that could lead him to the vampire. Something that could end his waiting. He was constantly being reminded that he did not have as infinite knowledge as the vampire had. He was constantly being reminded that while the vampire had an infinite amount of time to perfect his craft and tactics, Peter Vincent had at most thirty years. Several of those were already gone.
"Where does the time go?!"
He muttered allowed, only realizing after his outburst how loud it had actually been. And, only realizing after, that he was probably within earshot of a black figure that stood before him. It was not a vampire, that much Peter Vincent could tell, but there was definitely something about him that was slightly off. Something irregular...like he was someone important and yet...he meant nothing. Someone like this would possibly know where the vampire was hiding...yet, they might know nothing and be wrapped up in their own story. Considering all the dependencies Peter Vincent had seen in recent days; someone working for himself would be a welcome change.
His heavy accent followed him as he whinnied, stalking closer to the other brute. He watched the black stallion for a moment, trying to determine what he was thinking. As Peter Vincent was no vampire, he could not read minds though. Whatever the obsidian stag was thinking; it must have been something deep-for he looked very much enthralled in his thought process.

But, Peter Vincent was getting slightly lonely, so, despite being excited to see someone else wrapped up in their very own affairs and not the affairs of someone else, he wanted someone to talk to. This stallion looked the perfect candidate, as he appeared to have some knowledge about the world around him. Unlike the very stunning mare Peter had chanced upon not long ago.

"Hello, sir. I am Peter Vincent, a mercenary of sorts. I do not mean to intrude..."

Peter Vincent was not used to talking to other stallions. He had always surrounded himself with pretty woman, and would pass by stallions without a second glance. He was at a loss for any continuation of the phrase he had started, as he thought it rather awkward to do the regular charade of asking his "beautiful name" and blah blah blah. So, he decided he'd wait and see if the other stallion would supply him with such information. Perhaps during their conversation, he would give some hint of it.
Peter snorted, realizing he probably should have just stayed back and watched like he was supposed to, instead of approaching. Oh well, what was done was done.

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[.๑whovian๑.]

The black stallion was so lost in thought, it took him a moment to realize that another horse was nearby, and he looked around after a moment, detecting the new scent. He paused, ears pricked as he scanned the trees. However, nothing made it's appearance, and so he meandered onwards, allowing his mind to whirl again. There were several things he was thinking about, and none of them made sense. He could not dwell on the words of Bristile, though it seemed as though little good could come of them. Never before had he met such a creature, one who was so in control of time, that it scared him. Normally, it was these sorts of creatures that he tried to stop, but the master of Time was different...he could change little, but step through the past and future like the pages of a book. It was unnerving.

However, a scarier game was afoot. Every instinct of his told him that they were heading for trouble, and that he needed to get to his box. But where was it? That wonderful blue box, but he could not find it...he had often strayed from his little group, in hopes of detecting it. He had even considered asking Bristile if the stallion knew it's location, but he figured that Bristile would not have told him even if he knew. And speaking of which, how had Ali known that he traveled in a box? He had not discussed the topic, since the words had been so venomous, but the mare intrigued him to no end. He liked her, though she often was hard to understand and held many secrets.

Then, there was Jack. That worried him to a great extent. How come he knew Jack, but Jack did not know him? Who else would he meet and recognize? How many would not know who he was? Many had never known him, but this was terrible...nobody, not even those he knew had come from a different universe like himself, knew him for who he truly was. It was downright depressing. Was he going to run into others he knew from his world? Jack could not have been anyone else, he couldn't die even in this world...

However, his thoughts were interrupted once again by unfamiliar smells. He looked around, and this time there was a horse to put to the noise and the smell. He was a medium sized stallion, dark bay in color, and he could almost be mistaken for black. He had a slightly burly frame, yet elegant, and it did not take the black stallion long to realize that the horse was most likely a hot blooded beast, a Morgan, Arab, or a Thoroughbred. His frame was not quite like that of a Thoroughbred, and the dainty, refined features of an Arab were missing, so he concluded that it was a Morgan standing in front of him. Proud, upright, but he looked a little bit nervous, and for some strange reason, he thought that the horse looked similar to....well, himself.

When the horse spoke, he held an accent similar to that of the black stallion's, which made him smile a bit inside. He seemed friendly enough, and the Doctor stopped his walking to listen. He was no fan of the mercenary type, and immediately he found himself being rather prejudice. However, he forced himself to think properly, as the stallion was a mercenary, "of sorts" which could be something entirely different. And not to mention, in these dangerous times, there were probably many that were in the same position as the Morgan, who introduced himself as Peter Vincent. The name rang a bell somewhere in the depths of the black stallion's infinite brain, but the bell was of little importance and he smiled.

"No, not at all, nice to meet you Peter," he said calmly. "I'm called the Doctor..." he paused. Did he dare? Well, it was probably worth a shot. "You haven't by any chance seen a blue box, have you?"


words; 682
muse; good
notes; SOOOO SORRY! I feel terrible, but here's a post, it's not very long but it's pretty decent. Hope you like it!!!!!

[.:.Gambler.:.]

Peter Vincent

Would the black stallion find it insulting if Peter randomly started to laugh at his comment? Would he make an enemy before even doing one of his world famous rambling monologues about vampire safety by laughing at the stallion's comment about a blue box? Surely this stallion was drunk, mad, or a little of both. Peter almost wished to ask if any of the booze he had he could spare, to get his mind off of the more pressing matters, at least for the night. He did much like vodka on the rocks-it had a certain pizazz to it. At such a thought, Peter could not help but burst into a rhythmic laughter. It had been so long since the last time he had laughed, that the rolling muscle movement of his diaphragm gave him a thrill. The simple things in life were often the things that made the biggest different.

Despite laughing heartily at the stallion's comments, and thoughts of liquor delights, he tried to focus his mind on his traveling. He had a rather good memory; a sort of photographic one as he tried to remember back to when he had first arrived in this area, and immediately went on the look out for the sacred grounds. Where had those been, exactly? Something of a jolly time...no. Not there, but where? Thinking back...yes. Yes!
"Well, I may have, I think, Doctor, but I don't remember where it was. Which pains me greatly, because I believe that it was next to the sunken box that I had buried my stakes."
He furrowed his brows, trying to remember where it was. How could he forget in a time like this! What mockery of his mind was this, that he could not remember where exactly he had placed those skillfully sharpened tools of destruction against the demonic beasties?!
"Oh bother!"
He stomped his hoof and grumbled something under his breath about wanting a glass of gin. His ears flicked back and forth, listening for anyone that was possibly listening in for the dark lord nearby. His gaze shifted back and forth as he lowered his crown, whispering it almost to the ground.
"Since we're asking questions, sir, you haven't happened to catch wind of vampires afoot, have you? You see, I'm in the business of taking care of them. Hence, my mercenary of sorts, comment. I don't really take anything for it, except knowing that I'd slain another terrible beastie, but one such foe continues to allude me ever since childhood."
His voice trailed off, and he raised his crown to look eye to eye with the obsidian stag before him. No; there was no way this Doctor character could be an agent of the dark demon puppet master; he was too...himish. Besides. Surely the dark lord would not employ alcoholics looking for a blue box? He chuckled again at the thought, feeling relieved by this other stallion's presence. Something about him oddly reminded him of himself, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it.
"Sorry, I haven't laughed in a while-that one was just bursting to get out earlier at a thought I had had. I hope you do not take offense, Doctor."
A strange sensation came over him as he said the name Doctor again. Why? Why just Doctor? How strange a name to be so complete. No, there had to be something more. After all, he had paused and quite quickly changed the subject after saying he was called the doctor. Why "the doctor?" Didn't he have a first name?
No. Perhaps, this doctor was some evil mastermind that was in cahoots with J...what had he decided his name was? Jarvis, Jeremy, Jereimiah, Jerry? He laughed again at the thought of a vampire named Jerry. What a horrible vampire name! No, it must have been Jarvis. That seemed a vampirey name well enough. He looked the black stallion over-he certainly was the color of something that might be employed by the dark knight.
"Doctor Who?"
He inquired, giving the other stallion a sidelong glance.

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[.๑whovian๑.]

Of course, the Doctor could not have realized how completely ludicrous his question sounded, but half the time that he spoke (which was a lot), he sounded like that anyways, so he tended to take it for granted that people were just used to it. So when the dark bay stallion burst into fits of hysterics, (well, not hysterics but that was what it sounded like to the black) the Doctor was rather shocked. It even showed on his face, the poor beast, he was genuinely confused as to why the bay stallion was laughing. He contemplated this for a moment, and finally, said the absolute first, and most ridiculously stupid thing he could have possibly said.

"What's so funny?" he asked, bemused. Nine hundred years of time travel, and he just didn't get it. "Oi!" he growled, slightly irritated, but with a sort of friendly scolding tone in his voice. "It's a first class time machine, don't go on about it!" However, as he finished this sentence, he chuckled almost apologetically. Now he got it. Who the hell walks up to a complete stranger and asks about a blue box? Peter probably thought he was drunk or something. However, the laughing finally subsided as the bay came up with an answer. And that answer surprised the Doctor even more than when Peter had laughed. He had seen it. He had actually seen it, a big blue box! Yet of course...he couldn't remember where it was, of course not! The Doctor grinned at Peter's frustrated comment. Bother...that was a good one, he'd have to use it some time.

"Don't worry yourself about it, never-mind," the Doctor said loftily. "You see, it's got a low level perception filter, unless you really want to see it, then otherwise you'll walk right past it, unnoticed. It's not invisible, more like it's unnoticed, under the radar, that sort of thing. Like when you're trying to talk to someone and they act like you don't even exist...well, not on purpose," he said. He stopped talking, and listened to what Peter had to say. Vampires....well, that was a relative term. There are many creatures that can be called vampires that aren't really vampires but they look and act like vampires, except they're completely different because they're actually aliens from a different planet.

"Hmm..." he said. "Vampires," he listened as Peter finished his comment. So, he was a hunter of vampires? It appeared that he had run afoul with one during his childhood, so the urge to kill them was understandable, but that didn't mean the Doctor had to like it. He frowned slightly, thinking for a moment. "Well, I can't quite categorize the smell as vampire, smelled more like a Sycorax, or a Plasmavore to me, but there has been a foul scent on the air, and it could be what you've been looking for," he said. His nose was keen, and he could pick up anything and figure out what it was, but here he was at a disadvantage. He did not know the creatures that lived here, and for all he knew, vampires were real. He had to be open minded.

"None taken, I tend to ramble a bit, well, not a bit, a lot, and many people don't quite understand the things I say...that's what you get from falling into another universe!" he said. Then, he paused. "Sorry...." he said. "That was a bit rude wasn't it?" Or was it? He supposed that assuming Peter didn't know what he was talking about was a bit rude? Eh, it wasn't for him to decide. He looked over the stallion for a moment, considering. He was good at sniffing out bad guys, maybe he could be useful. He seemed like a good guy, intelligent, much like himself actually...it was a bit odd, they both spoke similarly, with the same type of accent. Well, not exactly the same, but rather similar.

When Peter asked his final question, it was the Doctors turn to laugh. Well, not so much a laugh, more of a grin and a bit of a low sort of unmanly giggle. He had just heard that question so many times. So. Many. Times. There would never be an end to that question. Who? Doctor Who? HA! He would never tell anyone! Not even the great god of TIME could figure out his name, nor the god of all knowing, those who knew everything, or thought they did, psychics, fortune tellers, nobody would know. Nobody would ever learn his name. "Just the Doctor," he said quietly. Suddenly, a loud snap sounded to the right, and two black ears shot in that direction. The black stallion raised his head, inhaling deeply. Trying to see if he could detect anything. "I'm sort of homeless, bit of a wanderer you know, I travel around in that blue box I mentioned earlier, but it seems..." he trailed off distracted, staring into the bushes. "that I have lost it...." He finished his sentence, trailing off into nothingness as he stared intently at the bushes.

The last thing he needed was an ambush.

"We could use a good nose like yours," he added on suddenly, without looking at the bay stallion. "A vampire sniffer like yourself, be great...like me sort of. There's some nasty things out there, and we need every extra pair of noses....hold on....eyes, ears, and all the noses we can get."

Damn. Talk about not making sense.

words; 915ish
muse; good!
notes; omg I posted *cheers* anywho, you can make the thing in the bushes into something bigger, or not, I dunno, it could be a threat or just something that distracted the Doctor.