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He was getting old. He was old after the war but now... His body was wearing. Happens to us all in the end. Death.
Only it wasn't death and it wasn't coming anytime soon. He was just more tired after all that running. and his tracker had decided to brake. Which was bad as he was now stranded in the 21st centuary while his TARDIS was stuck in the 19th. The device was used to track a certain type of biology and was what would be termed 'steampunck' with cogs and gears all clicking and ticking. Only it wasn't.
He had tracked down is pray only to see them Open up a worm hole. There was a scuffle and The inspector fell through. How he wasn't obliterated he had no idea. The journey was long and bumpy until he landed on a sold wooden floor with a thump. Smashing the deivce as he landed in... what looked like a shop full of clocks.
So here he was dusting off his victorian grab in a shop full of clocks and antiques. He needed to get back to the past. Who knows what trouble was being caused. But first a rest. He slumped against a large grandfather clock.
(ooc: SO emmy can either witness the whole thing, hear a commotion in the shop or anything else. Hope this works for you)
“The meaning of life is that it stops.” ? Franz Kafka
Death was the inevitable end. Some reached the destination sooner than others, but nonetheless it was a part of life. So the cells were spontaneously formed and thrust into a brutal life full of pain and beauty, and so the cells were then taken back to earth. Though death was not the necessary end – religions often held, clung, to the idea of something else. Reincarnation – from a plucky young man to a plucky bald parrot stressed and screaming German obscenities from a covered cage – and other ideas, such as Heaven – though who really wanted to sing and play harps all day? – and Hell – a hot and miserable place, much like the country of Australia.
Mordecai had neither reincarnated nor gone to Heaven or Hell. He wasn’t complaining, but sometimes death was enough to drive anyone mad. He could smell it around him constantly, and he saw it wherever he stood. He was cursed to an eternity of sleepless wake, blessed to pass his good humor and friendship in those who needed him most. The Dreamer never understood why someone would need him, but there was much he didn’t understand, and he didn’t want to. The Heartbeats’ lives were full of struggles, and though death could even drive a good-natured spirit to madness, death was all he’d known and all he took comfort in.
The crashing of clocks and cogs made the ghost tilt his head, drifting inside the store. The man was old – perhaps older than he looked, perhaps much older. He drifted closer, his toes barely touching the ground. How long did this man have before he met its inevitable end? His expression flickered into one of confusion – he certainly had a pulse, but there was something strange and not human about him. Definitely not human. (Probably). Mordecai drew closer curiously.
As the man leaned against the grandfather clock, Mordecai floated closer, examining the man’s attire curiously. He didn’t give much thought about being seen. The man didn’t smell like death, and he certainly wasn’t a child Dreaming.
As the Inspector sat there he looked at his device. Broken. Fantastic he thought, all he needed. His slight mope was cut short by a feeling. A feeling that sent a shiver from his spin to his head. He could swear there was someone there but... he could hear or see anything. He got up following that signature Time Lord sixth sense and peered at a certain spot. If he could see Mordecai, The Inspector would be nose to nose with the man. He stopped his looking and walked right though Mordecai to a desk to look at his device. It needed repairs if he was to save the past... again.
On the spot He turned with a jerk and once again Looked right at Mordecai, A more apt term would be looking right INTO Mordecai by the intensity of his gaze.
"Is some one there? I don't have time for tricks." He really didn't.
Mordecai’s eyebrows furrowed lightly as the man seemed to look at him. Despite that, it seemed that… he was looking through him. They were incredibly close and Mordecai felt breath against his face. It was warm and alive. “Can you see…?” his question was cut off as the man walked through him. Mordecai turned around, the disappointment clear on his face. The man had seemed to be so close to seeing that the ghost had allowed himself to naïvely hope.
Just as he was about to take a few steps back to exit the shop, the man whirled around and glared into him. If the man hadn’t been able to hear him before, he probably wouldn’t hear the answer to his question. Mordecai leapt over to the blackboard where the prices were kept, wiping it clear. He grabbed the piece of chalk and wrote ‘DREAMER’, dropping the chalk and perching on top of the black board, his toes curling around it to keep his balance, not entirely unlike a cat.
The Inspector looked dumbfounded as he saw calk rise from the table and write the word Dreamer. Dreamer.. dreamer, dreamer dreamer dreamer. No matter how many times he repeated it, it still sounded familiar. The business with the past was put on hold for a moment.
"Now you'll have to give me something more than that." He said kindly, looking up to where he thought this'Dreamer' was. It was odd, He could tell where this person was but not see or hear them. It seemed Dreamer was immune to all the standard 5 senses. And even his time sensitiveness couldn't compensate.What ever race this thing was, it was one of the most unique beings The Inspector had come into contact with. Maybe it lived on a certain wave of energy? if that was the case a simple few tweaks from his Super Smart Phone would work. Useing that as an idea, he got it out and started pressing the screen. then useing the camera he pointed it in the direction he felt Mordicai was.
The phone gave off a low humming noise and through the camera, He saw this mysterious Dreamer. "Well, well. Aren't you a clever thing? Before you say anything I can't here you, only see. Even that is limited, I set this to scan for a particular type of energy which is why I'm getting a vary grainy image of you right now. So introductions: I'm the Inspector."
Something more? Mordecai sighed, fiddling with the chalk in his hands. He didn’t know anything more than that. He knew he was a Dreamer – but what a Dreamer was, he couldn’t say. He was formerly a human (was he still a human?) but he knew that Dreamers existed in other species. He bent down from his perch atop the board and changed the writing: ‘DREAMER?’ There. Perhaps that would at least stop the man asking questions that Mordecai couldn’t answer.
The movement caught the ghost’s eyes and his head cocked to the side. At the man’s words, he jumped from the board to the desk, crouching on the edge of it with his fingers and toes curled into the edge. He opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced from the man. The Inspector. Mordecai shifted back over to the board. ‘MORDECAI’, he wrote, directly under the word dreamer. He pulled down his sleeves and erased both his name and species.
He tapped his lips. What else could he do to get the man to see him? What did adults lack that children could so easily have? It was mostly children who saw him, after all. Children who needed friends, companionship. The lonely and the hurt were drawn to him, just as the Dreamer was drawn to them.
Believe. It was almost childish. Did he have to chant it? and he could have swarn that he had heard of dreamers before. Just a very very long time ago hence why he was struggling to place the species. And the question mark. Why change his statement to a question? What would Mordaci as he was called gain from that? in this case as the Inspector was twiddling with his device as well as holding up his phone, Mordecai had all the answers.
"Let's try a different tactic While I try and fix this blasted thing. Do you think you could drop down? I need physical contact in order for this to work. Don't worry. It won't heart a bit." Physical contact. The lad was a ghost. How was this going to work? Well it was worth a try.
As Mordecai approached He extended his free hand after plucking a broken cog out of the device, and placed it on where Moridcai's head should be. HE was attempting telepathic contact. It could work. He just had to push. or failing that, create a device that works on the same energy signature that this Dreamer did.
How about now? Can you say something in your head?
Mordecai obediently sprung forward, landing just in front of the Inspector with a catlike grace. Physical contact? How did he plan to do that if he couldn’t touch him? The ghost tilted his head curiously, leaning a bit closer. When people said something wouldn’t hurt, they were normally lying, and so Mordecai tensed himself for pain when the Inspector put his hand on his head. Or, well, through it, though perhaps it worked anyway because there was a voice in his head.
His eyes widened and, for a moment, he was momentarily struck dumb concerning the English language at the question. His thoughts scrambled, a sort of hazy sort of whispering that was frantic and maybe more than a little creepy, the sound of voices through the static on the television. The whispers stopped and then—
Mic check, one two one two.
A sort of success, maybe. Mordecai just had to keep himself focused lest the static whispers come back.
Telepathic? Can project self. In head. If let me.
The sentences were broken with the effort Mordecai was putting in to keep himself concentrated, but he figured as long as it was enough to get the idea across, it’d be fine.
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