||[Jul. 11th, 2007|09:40 am]
Omega, Son of Rassilon
Following the newts was the easy part. They were everywhere, once you knew to look. Watching from corners, under the edges of couches and the legs of tables. Bearing newty time signatures from another Nexus entirely. Are that his Father shouldn't be here, in Omega's own time, Omega hurried to find one, and to startle it. Boo! He grinned, squeezed his Father's hand, and when the little salamander disappeared with a tiny flash of PINpoint, he hopped to follow. He was used to hopping, moving through time in the barrier-weak Nexus without the aid of any sort of capsule. |
Reappearing in the Newt Nexus was almost like not moving at all, until perceptions realigned and one realized how strange it all was here. Trees and ponds replaced all the furniture, and wide, smooth rocks warmed under the same strange Nexus sky. Everything is here, in analogue through an arboreal, amphibeous filter. Omega tugged his father towards the vast hollows that are the siderooms and tunnels, stepping carefully to avoid disturbing the natives, who stared up at these two giants, utterly nonplussed. Humanoids were unwelcome here. But he pulled Rassilon unhindered down one low-arched tunnel, until it ended in a vast room made, seemingly, of braided living trees.
The room was full of portals. Doors, gaps in space, windows that shuttered onto strange vistas, unnatural arches, all heaped and stacked together. Omega led him through mounds, around teetering piles, following memory through the labyrinth of pilfered doors and ways. "Almost... here it is!"
A Portal of Rassilon stands, leans against a massive stonge, seemingly torn from a henge, his Seal rotating lazily on its surface. The vortex beyond, through, is the deep, clear orange of a Gallifreyan sky at summer noon.
"Father, just through here," Omega says, almost breathless.