The Secondary World

Like Alice through the Looking Glass, three years ago I fell through the screen of my iMac into the brave new world of Second Life. It took awhile to get my bearings. This blog started as a record of my role-playing there, but has mutated into a bit more. Here are my travels across the sims and strange lands of the Secondary World.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Collision

The Fallen Hour gave me a terrific scare yesterday, and though the physical damage was minimal, the repercussions leave me with some difficult decisions.

Following my narrow escape from Innsmouth, I vaulted foreward into the far future and set the materialization cycle for a space station I had heard about. At first, The Fallen Hour refused to materialize, the cycle immediately jerking back into dematerialization and continued flight. I started the cycle again, when suddenly the Cloister bells began to ring, and the entire console starting sparking. Smoke began to billow up, and minor explosions broke out across the controls.

The Main Console, After Repairs

I have never seen this behavior from her before, and back in the time vortex I began to necessary repairs and went to the Library to consult the ponderous volumes that make up the TT Capsule manual. After some hours of research, the conslusion I came to made my hearts both skip a beat.

It was there in the 23rd codex, a warning I had learned in my Academy days and been cautious of during the Time War, but something I had thought to disregard following the fall of Gallifrey. Two Time Capsules cannot—must not—materialize in the same location in time and space. The results of such co-materialization would be disastrous. The Fallen Hour had refused to materialize at first to prevent this, and when I forced her, the results were violent. Two Time Capsules had collided.

This means that the others are out there, and moving. It means that even in the immensity of time and space we can cross paths. I have no way of knowing if this other Time Capsule was from the Celestial Intervention Agency on Zenobia, or some other survivors of lost Gallifrey, but I must be cautious. The Fallen Hour is stolen, and I am a soldier who fled his post. Further, I have no great love for the Doctor, or those who followed the policies he made that led us to disaster. These other Time Lords may offer me the comfort of my kin, or the judgement of my adversaries. I cannot yet know.

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