Dec 15, 2018 5:38 PM
Promise and the Master
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"She couldn't even understand me? I'd think plain speaking would do..."

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"She technically can. But she has to figure it out and it's not fun. Figuring out the order things are in is hard enough, just to start. And then there are the actual words. TARDISes tend not to like words."

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"Oh."

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"Talking's easier than understanding. But most natural telepaths that aren't time lords have other problems."

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"Like what?"

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He begins listing, holding up a finger for each.
"Number one are pack animals who die if they're isolated. Number two believe they are the only true life in the universe and everything else is a pale mockery. Number three can only effectively communicate with their own species and find all other communication to be impossibly confusing. Number four are extremely claustrophobic and would never agree to be in any type of enclosed space. Number five I personally pissed off. Number six spent 74 years fighting the time lords before we wiped out half their population. Number seven find beings like the TARDIS to be blasphemous. Number eight I also personally pissed off. Number nine would get themselves killed immediately. And that's all the ones I know about."

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"I could try talking to some number fives and eights."

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He grimaces.

"No, no that won't work. How am I supposed to fix her if the people she's carrying chase me out with a broom?"

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"Because I'd talk to them first and hopefully they wouldn't? But if they're that angry - I assume there's some reason you can't just go to before you pissed them off -"

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"I don't like them either."

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"I wasn't suggesting you talk to them!"

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"I bet she'll hate them too. She likes me already."

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His face lights up.

"I know. You can do it. She loves you."

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"I'm... not telepathic."

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"How do you propose to change that?"

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"Everyone in my native universe has a psychic field. Most people, including this regeneration, are useless with it. But, no matter how useless you are to start, you can get better with practice. I haven't bothered this time around, but I still know the theory. You don'have a psychic field, yet, but I bet we could get you one."

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"- I'll need more details."

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"I'll give you a book. Yes, you can attack people with your own psychic field if they have a psychic field, but everyone who was any good at it is the type of dead you can't fix with time travel. Plus, you can just never visit my native universe ever again and not worry about it. Or, spend a hundred years working on your defenses. They work against most non-psychic field based mental attacks, surprisingly, though you still can't do anything to people who don't have one," he says, sounding mildly disappointed at that last bit.

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"Book sounds good."

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He wanders over to the library.

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The TARDIS obligingly moves a shelf.

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He scans the books and then plucks one off the shelf.

"Here, you probably have enough context for this."

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It's a small book with an embossed cover depicting a humanoid figure surrounded by a field of shiny silver lines.

The title reads, "Your Psychic Field and You."

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"Thanks," she says, and she goes to her room to eat and read.

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