Fox Mulder (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
call_me_spooky) wrote2009-01-19 02:27 am
call_me_spooky) wrote2009-01-19 02:27 am
x - 0020 [Signs and Wonders]
We may choose to question, to doubt, the evidence of our senses; but we cannot easily deny them. We interact with the world through our bodies; and so when we find them changed, might not our perception of the world change? Or am I me in some fashion that defies the flesh entirely. I'm not touching the battle of the sexes nonsense with a ten-foot pole, because that kind of conversation never ends well for the males involved... But I'll admit it was interesting to look through different eyes. Seeing the same world from another angle. I don't know that I learned anything, except that I don't like being short, which I really could have guessed.
Still, food for thought. If it's in essence an accident that I am the man I see in the mirror every day, what does that say about the person I believe myself to be? If I'd been born in the body I found myself in the other day (admittedly not without its advantages,) would I be where I am, who I am? Or would my life have followed some other path, impossible to imagine or predict?
I don't think we're meant to learn anything from these curses-- certainly theories abound to explain them, though whether any do, who knows-- but that doesn't mean we can't.
Anyway. In other matters-- has anyone heard from Donna Noble recently? She's been uncharacteristically quiet for a couple of days...
Still, food for thought. If it's in essence an accident that I am the man I see in the mirror every day, what does that say about the person I believe myself to be? If I'd been born in the body I found myself in the other day (admittedly not without its advantages,) would I be where I am, who I am? Or would my life have followed some other path, impossible to imagine or predict?
I don't think we're meant to learn anything from these curses-- certainly theories abound to explain them, though whether any do, who knows-- but that doesn't mean we can't.
Anyway. In other matters-- has anyone heard from Donna Noble recently? She's been uncharacteristically quiet for a couple of days...
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Why don't you try the beginning.
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Okay. Well, did you see the carousel in the center of the City? It's connected to clockwork, underground. Rumors say it has... something to do with the end of the world, though who knows. Same with the curses. The Deities allegedly cause them, but we don't know why. The City pulls people in from different worlds with no apparent pattern, no apparent reason.
And now you're here.
[Which is kind of a bad thing, but also kind of a good thing, so he presents it as-- a neutral fact.]
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[Scully arches an eyebrow, and her tone is clearly disbelieving.]
What about where we're from? You say you've been here three months, but I just left you....
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So they call themselves. They... do seem to have a fair amount of control over what goes on, so it's as good a name of any.
[That second question is a little harder to answer...]
Time's weird, here. While you're in the City, time doesn't seem to pass in the real world; and not everyone comes from the same time, much less the same universe.
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And now for the other question that has been bugging her...]
So who is Donna Noble?
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An English woman who thinks I'm an actor who's lost his mind.
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Well, that's certainly a change from the usual.
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Yeah, usually people think I'm an FBI agent who's lost his mind.
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[Her quiet chuckle turns into a cough -- standing out in the cold had not been good for her.]
Wish I had known to dress for the weather.
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[He shrugs that one off, with a bit of a grin, which fades as she starts to cough. He reaches out reflexively, putting his hand on her shoulder. Though clearly, whatever's wrong, she doesn't want to talk about, so he bites back the obvious prodding.]
We'll get you whatever you need tomorrow.
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[She gives him a smile, unaware of the sudden trickle of blood from her nose.]
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...You're.. bleeding...
[No, no no no no. No. He's hoping like hell that he's wrong.]
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But she has to keep it cool, for Mulder's sake, and the sake of her pride.]
I'm fine, Mulder. Do you have a tissue?
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[He gives her shoulder a squeeze, and gets up to find one. And to hide the panic on his face, which means (of course,) the complete blankness of his expression. Because he just assumed she had come from the same time as he had; and clearly... Shit. How are you supposed to tell someone that? And, more importantly-- she's sick. And here? There's nothing he can do about it.
All he does is get a box of tissues, and bring it back.]
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[She takes a tissue and quickly cleans up her nose. She notices Mulder's complete lack of expression and sighs inwardly. She hates worrying him.]
Mulder, it's fine. It's just a nosebleed.
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[He glances away. Of course, he knows she's going to be all right. Somehow. Somewhere, somewhen else; but she's here and sick, now.]
Sorry... You've had a rough day. Should I just let you head to bed?
[He presses his palm to his forehead, frowning slightly.]
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But she forces a smile on her face and reaches out to squeeze his hand. Her tone is light and joking.]
Do I actually get a bed?
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Yup. I'm making the ultimate sacrifice and crashing on the couch.
[He grins, because, well. He does that most of the time anyway. He might have made a crack about sharing, but suddenly that feels too inappropriate.]
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[He gets up to lead her bedroomwards.]
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Night, Mulder.
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[He lingers outside the door for a moment, not really certain if there's anything more he should say.]
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Mulder?
bwaaaa shippy icons abound >D