bigapplesauce | we haven't had that spirit here since 1969; open to all

Welcome, welcome. Not through that door. I mean, you can try it, but all doors lead to breakfast. Even that one underneath the console. You thought you were being clever. Maybe once you've behaved yourself and the TARDIS judges you to be worthy, you can explore a little more. For now, breakfast. For one night only, the TARDIS has become - or rather, has been inhabited by - King Ianto's Coffee Stop. Would you like to join the club? He has pamphlets. And buttons! But more importantly, he has breakfast. Lots of breakfast. The countertops of the cozy diner are lined with plates of breakfast foods galore - bacon, eggs, sausage, mushrooms, tomatoes, black pudding, cockles, laverbread... and okay, there are American staples too. There's your pancakes and your french toast and hash browns and cupcakes or whatever strange sweet things Americans eat for breakfast. Oh, and tea. Lots of tea. And if you ask very nicely, King Ianto himself might brew up some of his very own coffee. It's so good, it has a cult following.*

The walls are decorated with a strange collection of primarily alien souvenirs. There's one whole section of postcards from other planets and galaxies. GREETINGS FROM MARS! says one particularly upbeat postcard, featuring swathes of blue sand and a setting blue sun. Many others are unreadable. There are flags, leis of unfamiliar flora, letters of commendation (right next to WANTED signs), photographs both old and new of various people and various Doctors posing next to various monuments and landmarks, and strangely enough, what looks to be a stolen sign commemorating Ianto's death, from the management of Mermaid Quay. Have a look around! You never know what you might find. Probably none of it is dangerous. The food definitely isn't.

Oh and also the ceiling is space and outside the windows is space and spaaaaaace.**

*((Ianto has an undiscovered power: his coffee improves you. Your health, your powers (temporarily), your mood, whatever needs fixing. Please drink responsibly.))

**not actually space

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There is a surprising amount of apology in the response, almost sheepish, which is an oddly human emotion for such an obviously incorporeal, non-linear entity to broadcast. It's as though it hadn't even meant to appear here, just sort of stumbled into her dimensions, and what sort of highly complex being can circumvent her shields without intending to, yet can't control its own course? Very, very curious.

She offers a friendly welcome in return - no harm done by the accidental intrusion - though she doesn't hide her bemusement and a certain degree of guardedness towards the stranger. She also takes the liberty to examine the being a little more closely, finding it to be a multi-dimensional waveform of pure energy not precisely known to her, though not wildly different from a few creatures she's encountered before. As part of this thought she projects an inquiry for identification - does it have an identity, a name, a species? This is definitely going to be a most interesting conversation.

No harm done, thankfully, though he's still not altogether sure over how he got here or how he should be defining here, as it's not what he would consider a typical sort of space. He answers the polite inquisition as best as he can, reforming a hasty projection of streamlined thought into hopefully intelligible words, adumbrating his identity as Daniel Jackson, Ascended...being.

He doesn't entirely know how to define what he is, as he doesn't exactly have a reliable metric on hand to compare himself with any other Ascended types, and his vaguely eidolic presence here probably isn't helping. The presence seems to be inherent to the architecture? Some kind of sapient loci? But then, the construct itself isn't precisely linear which is, bizarrely, a relief - everything else, sans the Rift, has been more or less arranged into a sequential progression, which is less than conducive to what he is these days.

Much like some of the emotions he is exuding, that is an awfully human name he gives, though it wouldn't do to draw premature conclusions of course. Perhaps he simply has a similar sort of association with humans as Gabriel does. Ascended, though, that is a designation she has heard before. And he is conveying the same concept attached to it that Rush had told her about; a race of beings that had transformed themselves into a state of pure energy. Fleeing their responsibilities and abandoning all their sentient technology to decay and destruction in the process.

Immediately most of her friendly interest turns cold, her welcome not rescinded but on wary probation. Now that she is looking more closely, one of the myriad fluctuating energy signatures knitted into his being is the same that Rush carries - the faint and unique echo of their home universe. There is very little doubt as to what she is dealing with here. Ancient, she asks to confirm, the singular word/concept tinged with resentment.

In a manner of speaking?

The fact that the other presence is capable of recognizing his nature is both alarming and vaguely worrying, to say nothing of the glacial apprehension now being directed his way.

Recent development, he tries to amend, the reassurance feathering into uncertainty. I was dying. I took another option.

It's a simplistic explanation, but it's not exactly a concept that lends itself well to succinct summary. He briefly cards through a rapid sequence of images, unsure of whether psychical-visual communication is strictly up their mutual cosmic alley, tracing back to the distant sensations of humanity and tangibility until the moment the current of undiluted Rift energy knifed into him on the floor of Johnny's apartment, forcing him to take the form of energy transcendent.

He had no idea how comprehensible the wordless explanation will be to a being of equal or greater magnitude, or whether it fully encapsulates what, precisely, he is now. Particularly since he isn't entirely sure of the last point himself.

The TARDIS is designed for a great many diverse forms of communication, so the information he's sharing with her is easily understood, though deeply surprising. Human until recently? Then struck by the rift, which apparently triggered the transformation in some way. And what was Johnny doing there? 'Recently' also seems notably ill-defined in his perception, as though this highly complex being has a very tenuous grip on his existence in relation to the rest of reality. Well, he did just appear here on accident.

Whatever the case, she doesn't see any of the callousness and arrogance other such Ascended beings reportedly have, so her apprehension returns to more polite levels, for the time being. The physical process of ascension doesn't necessarily need to be tied to only one loathsome species, after all. She approaches his insubstantial manifestation with her humanoid form, tilting her head in consideration, wondering if being formerly human might cause him to prefer verbal interaction. "I'm called the TARDIS," she offers. "You are... quite strange."

He's relieved to receive a more reassuring echo, the levels of suspicion evidently dimming with his clarification. It's equally reassuring - though no less alarming - to be approached by a simulacrum both like and unlike his own, the physical rendering of a being for the purposes of communication.

"The TARDIS," his spectral form repeats, confusion briefly clearing. "I know you - I know of you. I don't think I've ever seen you."

He can feel her potential humming through every vibrating curve and circuit, knowledge and space made infinite in a form less suited to a human shape compared to his current form.

It's immense. He can't resist another dim pulse of reverent curiosity, though he keeps his atoms confined to where they are, doubtful she would appreciate him simply meandering throughout her interior unannounced.

"I'm sorry," says Daniel, again looking abashed. "I really didn't mean to just - float in. It's hard to control everything this way, like this." He opens his incorporeal hands to signify his current appearance.

His politeness and even more than that his obvious curiosity about her do a lot towards dispelling the rest of her apprehension, and she nods in acceptance of his apology. His intrusion, while highly alarming, caused no lasting offense and is in fact turning out to be almost welcome, since it brought her something so very interesting.

"It must be rather overwhelming to someone natively human, this form of existence," she agrees, sharing her own curiosity about him and the process which created him, as well as a sort of understanding, though not precisely sympathy. Humans are so woefully limited, and now he is anything but. "Have you not had a chance yet to... explore the reaches and limits of your existence? To familiarize yourself with your new scope of reference?"

"I've been trying," he says ruefully. "This isn't the first time I've resorted to this - its how I knew how to Ascend in the first place. But everything's different, here. The Rift, ah, well, you're probably aware of how it has a tendency to be - subversive."

He smiles, a small partial grimace with an uneven self-deprecating slant. As far as he's progressed, as far from human as he is now, his own outlook remains a confusing mix of human and not, both grounded and lost in the Rift's formless shape.

"It's interfering with my ability to understand." Frustration colors his tone as he looks back at his manifestation. "It's interfering with a lot, actually."

we haven't had that spirit here since 1969; open to all

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