bigapplesauce | [open x3] I'm not big enough to house this crowd

Current Location: Three different places
Current Music: January 12th, 2013

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[open x3] I'm not big enough to house this crowd

James is having a pretty regular day. They're planetside, on a lovely little world called Hedenex. He's taking an exploratory stroll, dressed in one of his three-pieces suits, walking through the complex cityscape they're visiting, enjoying the unfamiliar sky.

He's spent most of the day running around with Andrew, seeing sights, meeting people, testing the cuisine, and letting the dogs stretch their legs a bit too. But Andrew and the dogs only have so much energy, so James has left them to get some rest. James doesn't really need to worry about those things, so he's been getting some exploring done on his own. It's a very welcoming area.

He's just about to head back to ship, when he stumbles. This in itself is unusual, given how surefooted he normally is. But it only gets weirder from there. His systems go haywire, his vision and most of his senses cut out completely. There's a moment of panic, but he doesn't have long to dwell on it before he wakes up in an entirely different place. That is, places.

--

James, or rather the Ambrose part of him, comes to on a streetcorner on the Upper East Side, near Harlem. He's breathing, which is most unconventional. When did he start breathing? Up until a moment (or however long it's been) ago, he was completely robotic.

It's not the first time he's been put in a flesh body, however, so he manages to adjust fairly quickly, getting slowly to his feet. He doesn't much care for the cold, though. Perhaps this is just another Time Scoop, but it's usually less unpleasant.

But no... Because there's something missing. Great chunks of his mind are gone, and he feels strangely empty. Oh, not his memories. Those are still there. Not as organised and reliable now he's got a biological body, but there. His two imported personalities. The Doctor and the Master. They're gone. Yet somehow he can still sense them. As if they're here, but not part of him anymore. He's not sure what this means.

It doesn't occur to him how strange he must look, standing here in the cold, looking confused and lost.

--

Across town, the Doctor wakes up. He's in a café in the East Village, down on 10th street - though he himself doesn't know much more than that it's a café, and that he's currently slumped against the wall in a booth.

He goes through much the same thought process as Ambrose. They have the same memories of course, more or less the same mental capacities; the only difference is how they react to it. And the Doctor is worried. Deeply worried. If he's split free, that means the Master is probably also wandering around somewhere. He can feel that much. A presence in his mind, but far too distant and vague for him to pinpoint it.

First of all, where is he? His surroundings aren't much help. Back in his old body, he could've smelled it. He's not sure how reliable this new nose is, but he hasn't the memories to recall which place smells like what anymore in any case. It definitely doesn't look much like Hedenex, though.

He prods the shoulder of a random patron. "Pardon me, but could you tell me where I am?"

--

Meanwhile, approximately right between the two others, in the back of a dark McDonalds on 42nd street, right off Times Square, the Master version of James wakes up.

He, unlike the two others, is not quite so worried, once he's realised what's happened. In fact, he's rather delighted. His personality is often kept quite buried, at least compared to the other two. He's not so keen on finding them, though he feels that they're here somewhere, now he's finally got a body of his own.

He grins to himself, and pushes out the backdoor of the restaurant, out onto 41st street. It's not particularly crowded, but there are a few walking around. "You, human, where am I?" he asks one of them.

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The Master and Ambrose are no less confused about the Andrew situation. The Doctor thankfully has been paying attention, and can tell the other two apart, so he manages to grab the Master and pin him to the floor, while one of the now rather short Andrews wrestles with Ambrose. As soon as he realises the Master is caught, however, he stops struggling - even though it would be quite easy for him to win against this miniature version of Andrew.

The Andrew with the knife stands up, rubbing his neck a little with his free hand and trying to make sense of the scene before him. All the Jameses have scrambled their positions while he was looking away -- he can make a guess according to which one's doing what, but there's a more direct way of dealing with this. "Which one of you is the Doctor?" he demands. He could have asked which one was James, but apparently they're all James -- just one moreso than the other two.

"Drop the knife!" says the other Andrew suddenly, looking up from where he has Ambrose 'pinned' by his wrists. The two give each other matching wild-eyed looks, thinking rather dark thoughts about who the other Andrew must be, and the knife remains decidedly un-dropped.

"I am," the Doctor answers from atop of the Master, who's too tired to fight and has decided to bide his time, hoping for a chance to break free.

"He's telling the truth," Ambrose says, remaining limp, trying to calm down the situation, despite the confusion and tenseness of everyone involved. The train has started moving again.

"We can sense who's who. Both me and the Doctor are trying to catch the Master, so if the two of us are in agreement, we must be telling the truth," he explains logically. "Andrew, please lower the knife so no one gets hurt. Andrew, may I please get up?"

None of the three understand what's going on with the Andrews, but at the moment it's easier to treat them as if they're both Andrew and just try to de-escelate things.

"Oh -- oh, right," says Andrew, embarrassed. He scrambles off of Ambrose, but stays the other side of the remaining two Jameses rather than go any nearer to his own double. "I can't," he says tersely, still looking at the other Andrew. "Tell who he is," he clarifies. Then he demands of the other him, "What are you?"

The Andrew with the knife relaxes a little despite the ongoing hostility from Andrew, lowering the blade now that he knows the Master has been subdued. He backs away a step or two, though, not trusting the being with his face not to do something rash and upsetting. "Oi, I could ask you the same thing!" he objects. "Is this something you did?" he asks the Master, gaze flicking down to the Time Lord on the floor.

The Master snorts derisively, while Ambrose gets to his feet.

"Clearly this is something else," Ambrose answers, dusting himself off. "You've shrunk. So I'm going to assume you're both Andrew, and I'm going to be very upset with both of you if either of you do anything foolish." He gives them both a stern look that they should already be fairly familiar with, though perhaps not from this different angle.

"But first," he says, turning to the Doctor and helping him pick the Master up from the floor, each holding onto an arm to stop him escaping. "I really hope this works."

And then the three of them step into each other. It looks almost like a double exposure of film, phasing through one another, until they align and become one single, solid James. He staggers for a bit, but thankfully there's a pole for him to catch himself on while he regains his composure. That was more than a little unpleasant, and his head kind of hurts now that all the memories are coming together, particularly the three different viewpoints of the past minutes. He groans, rubbing his forehead.

"You can't blame me for anything he does!" objects the Andrew nearer Ambrose. He's getting a crick in his neck from looking up at the upright segment of James already; he doesn't need the reminder.

The other Andrew scowls, but pockets the knife. "You're the one who needs watching," he informs the other. Both of them turn their attention back to the Jameses, though, both guessing what he means to do but surprised nonetheless to see the three forms become one.

"...Blimey," says the Andrew no longer holding a knife. The other steps closer to the rejoined James, holding out a hand to put on his arm. "How do you feel?" he asks, ignoring the way the other Andrew bristles and steps forward, not liking the sight of his potentially evil twin touching his lover.

Knife pocketed? Good. He can relax a little bit more then.

"Terrible, but I'll be alright," he admits, taking a seat. Everything is still being processed in his head. But at least it's just the one head now.

"What about you two? I take it both of you consider yourselves the original and proper Andrew?" he asks, looking between them. That's the impression he's gotten so far, anyway.

The Andrews follow him to the seat, one standing on either side of him, both keeping a wary eye on the other. "Of course I am," they both say, nearly in unison. The one with the knife in his pocket adds, "And I know I'm not the evil twin here."

The other snorts. "Spoken like someone with something to hide."

"Hush, both of you," James admonishes, though fairly gently. They're both behaving like he'd expect them to, but it's understandable under the circumstances.

"There is a way to find out," he says, looking from one to the other. At least they're slightly more level now he's sitting. It's still strange though, because they're not just shorter, they're proportionally smaller every which way. "I'm telepathic now. I could just read your mind, if you'd let me."

There's a reason neither has sat down beside him. Well, a few reasons, but among them is the fact that it makes them feel less like hobbits. They're taller than proper hobbits, of course, but it doesn't feel that way.

"I don't have anything to hide," huffs the Andrew with a knife in his pocket, sore about the return accusation.

The other Andrew realizes that he can hardly say no, especially when the other has given permission. He nods. "Just mind he doesn't try to invade your brain."

He won't poke around too much, since he knows how much Andrew values his privacy. And because he's already exhausted enough as it is, and this probably won't help.

"Alright, you first, then," he says to the Andrew who gave permission first, gesturing for him to come over so he won't have to stand for this.

The selected Andrew hops onto the plastic seat beside James. He doesn't like the way his feet won't rest solidly on the floor, and after a moment he tucks his legs up, incidentally leaning on James in a way that makes the other Andrew's frown deepen. As usual, it doesn't occur to either of them that this might be taxing for James.

James leans over, putting his hand on the back of Andrew's neck, resting their foreheads together and closing his eyes. He gently starts poking through Andrew's mind, looking for anything out of place, anything that feels wrong or iffy, without snooping too much, particularly not in his memories. Most of it is already familiar to him, though not really from Andrew's point of view. There's nothing there that would worry him, though.

He slumps a little when he breaks the connection, leaning back in his seat. He nods and gives a little smile to indicate everything's fine.

Lurking much closer to the surface than Andrew would like is the worry that he is the evil twin. He does his best to bury it, even as he performs the mental equivalent of following James anxiously from point to point in his mind.

"Is he part of me?" asks the other Andrew, having managed to calm down just a little bit. "Like the Master came out of you?"

Yeah, or not.

James notices the worry, but it reassures him. Better worry than absolute certainty that you're good.

"I don't think that's quite it, but I won't know till I compare," he answers, patting the seat on the other side of him for the other Andrew.

Andrew sits as the other Andrew gives him a smug look -- he's not been denounced, which must mean that if either of them is the evil twin, it's the one just tucking himself against James's side now, pulling up his feet before he even realizes he's mirroring what the other did earlier.

"I know I'm me," grumbles the newly seated Andrew.

James smiles reassuringly at him, and mirrors what he did to the other Andrew. The worry is much stronger in this one, which is only to be expected, given the first one has been declared alright. Beyond that, it's pretty much the same. It feels exactly like the mind he was just in.

This time, when he pulls back, he feels even weaker, though. It's really taken a lot out of him. He's tired three times over, as if his exhaustion just combined when he merged, and this isn't helping.

"You're both the same," he says as he pulls back, running a hand shakily through his hair and giving a tired smile.

"What?" The first Andrew to be mind-scanned sounds like he might actually be disappointed at this news. The second Andrew, for his part, looks relieved. He's also the first to notice how exhausted James looks.

"Are you alright?" he asks, already assuming the answer is 'no.' He glances at the other Andrew with a hint of sheepishness -- he still doesn't trust this doppelganger in his gut, but if James says they're the same, it must be true.

"I'm exhausted," he admits, closing his eyes for a moment. At least he feels safe that neither of the Andrews are secretly trying to murder him. He still doesn't know what's happened, but he assumes it has something to do with the rift.

"We should get off," he adds, as the train is pulling into yet another stop. He has no intention of leaving New York - particularly as it is likely to just lead to them being captured by Romac.

"We're a bit conspicuous at the moment," points out Andrew. Andrew nods, though he can't help but think James were more conspicuous earlier, with all that chasing and so forth.

"Still," says Andrew, hopping up and taking James's arm to help him up, Andrew belatedly following suit on his other side. "At least if we go back to the base, you'll have a place to rest." Versus going off onto the mainland and...what? Andrew's all for wild escapes, but what James needs right now is somewhere to recuperate.

James nods, getting up with their help once the train has come to a full stop, so he won't be jolted while he's trying to keep on his feet. Fortunately it turns out it's primarily mental exhaustion, and his legs carry him okay. Part of what's making it worse though, is how he's completely unused to dealing with, well, having a body.

He doesn't really have the energy to talk, though, but at least Andrew has himself to talk to, as they cross the platform to catch a train going in the opposite direction. Thankfully it doesn't take too long for one to come either. He's been lucky with trains today.

"Does your neck hurt?" one Andrew asks the other as they stand protectively on either side of James on the platform, each holding one of his hands.

"Not much," replies Andrew. "It looks like you might have a bruise," he notes, peering around James and using his free hand to rub curiously at his own throat. He's not the one who was held up by his neck after they split; despite how quickly the Master dropped him, it looks like the other Andrew is a little worse for wear. "Wonder what that'll do when we go back together," he muses.

"If we can figure out how," says the other, worried. He looks over as the train pulls in, glancing at its signage to make sure it's what they want, and Andrews gently lead James aboard.

Edited 2013-02-08 05:06 (UTC)

"Sorry..." James contributes guiltily, regarding the whole threatening Andrew with a knife thing. He remembers it from each point of view, and all of them are fairly upsetting. He's not quite ready to deal with it all right now, but he still feels guilty.

He drops down more heavily on the seat than he expected, frowning at the mild pain as he lands on the hard plastic. Definitely not used to pain. Thankfully this car is also empty. Not that much passenger traffic up here, apparently, or maybe it's just a slow time of day.

"It wasn't you," Andrew reassures him unhelpfully. One of him takes up on the seat next to James, cuddling up against him for what he hopes is mutual comfort, while the other stations himself in front of them as a sort of guard or lookout despite the lack of other people.

"What did the Master want with me, anyway?" asks the cuddling Andrew.

Very unhelpfully, given it was him, even if just part of him, which when pushed would go to quite a few lengths to get what he wants. Even if he never intended to seriously harm Andrew. He appreciates both of their ways of looking out for him, though.

"He loves you," he answers simply. "Because I love you. He -- I... wanted you with me. But I knew that I wouldn't let just one part of myself just run off with you, and that I would track me down. And I didn't want to go back to sharing a body - well, that part of me didn't want to. I was desperate..."

This isn't a confusing conversation at all.

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