#james jamison

On the one hand, the Doctor didn't have much to confiscate in the way of technology. It seemed that Ryker either arrived with the bare minimum or simply didn't operate with high tech. He still took the computer from the very back room and had plans to comb through its files later on, just in case.

What Ryker lacked in the tech department, he rather overcompensated with literature. Specifically journals and notes, in nearly every nook and cranny the Doctor thought to check. Ordinarily he wouldn't have bothered with collecting every single scrap of paper he could find; anyone who stumbled upon it all might simply write it off as the scribblings of a madman like Oliver did initially, There was always the chance that the wrong eyes could find some meaning in his words, but that still wouldn't warrant such a thorough sweep.

Then the Doctor caught a few glimpses in his writing that he simply couldn’t overlook.

References to angels were to be expected, given what little the Doctor knew about Ryker’s past. The Doctor wrote most of those off at first as ancient history, expressions of the trauma he must have endured in the midst of the Celestial War. Until he happened to look a little closer at one entry that also mentioned Earth– not a known territory for a skirmish in the war, as far as the Doctor was aware.

At first he wanted to believe that it was simply Ryker’s own inner demons haunting him and fueling his paranoia that brought this notion on. That he’d simply been so used to being surrounded by enemies that he couldn’t stop seeing them. 

Then he remembered things that Ryker had said to him almost in passing. Things he could see that others couldn’t, like the aura of darkness emanating from the void substance, or the wings of an angel hidden from sight. It also wasn't in a particularly recent journal, so Ryker's mental state couldn't be completely blamed.

That was when the Doctor resolved to collect every single thing Ryker had written down. He couldn’t afford to miss a single detail.

He almost regretted that decision when he made his way up to the flat above the launderette. It was even more of a mess than the lab or the office. Scrawled green eyes stared at him from the walls, just as Oliver had said, only now the Doctor had some more context as to what they depicted.

Jade Eye… another mystery Ryker left behind. What exactly could an entity like Ryker described have to do with him specifically? Why did he feel Jade Eye would be after him, and how did the void come into all of that?

The Doctor shook off those questions and continued cleaning out the flat. He couldn't waste time speculating on every bizarre aspect of Ryker's life, as that well seemed nearly bottomless.

It took most of the night for the Doctor to bring everything he found back to the TARDIS and even begin to organize it. Time ran too short for him to look too deeply into each point of interest, but by the time the night cycle began to transition to day, he'd formed a few messy piles and filed them away separately.

One file was packed with personal notes and journals of Ryker's that, as far as the Doctor could tell, were simply to do with his own life, his thoughts and feelings. One day, he thought, he might go through all of that for posterity's sake, and to ensure that nothing in there had to do with anything else uncovered.

Any mentions of angels or the war went into another file. As much as he didn’t like the sound of angels infiltrating Earth, he had to put it on the backburner. He had no intentions of getting himself and Zepheera wrapped up in the Celestial War, but if it was beginning to affect Earth even subtly, then he couldn’t ignore it forever. And in order to deal with it safely, he’d need to be as informed as he could possibly be.

Much of the rest had to do with Ryker's experiments, and quite a bit involved a particular endeavor that left a sour taste in the Doctor's mouth. 

The Kriegerin Project. He could recall the name in passing, mostly tied to the Kriegerin Massacre, but never heard of anything as detailed as what he found among Ryker's belongings. He was evidently a major player behind the scenes, treating it at least in part as yet another experiment. 

From what little the Doctor could stomach to skim through as he locked everything away, he would administer a serum to his subjects, all children, to draw out special abilities from them. Only to pit them against each other in horrific battles royale every half-century.

There probably wasn’t a pleasant way for the Doctor to be reminded of what exactly an Eschaton was, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it. All those children…

He did notice references to a particular subject, a boy called Kiran, and the extraction of his blood to make a serum Ryker stored away for later experiments. That sounded awfully familiar, but the Doctor had to make the decision to look into that another time. He was running out of time to finish cleaning the whole place out before the others woke up. 

The Doctor breathed deeply as he lounged in his seat, running one hand down his face to massage all the tension out of it. It had been a long night for him, and based on the sheer amount that Ryker had written down, he predicted it wouldn’t be his last for a while.

A light tug at the shoulder of his jacket broke the Doctor out of his swirling thoughts, and he glanced over to find Zepheera climbing into view. Evidently he'd been so wrapped up in his head that he'd missed her return to the console room, and she'd made her own way up the back of the seat to join him.

“Alright?” he murmured as she got settled right where his shoulder met his arm.

Zepheera gave a nod and said, “Fine, yeah.” He could tell she also had things on her mind, but let it go for the moment. After all, he didn’t plan on dumping everything he’d learned about Ryker onto her, not until he had a better idea of what exactly to do with all that information.

Then something went crunch in his ear, and he looked more closely to find she'd let a tiny box rest in her lap and was holding something up to her mouth, but she was too close for him to properly make out what it was

“What're you eating?” he asked.

“Biscuit. Oliver made ‘em,” she mumbled as she swallowed. She reached into the box with her free hand and stretched her arm out long in front of her. “Here, try one.”

Arching an eyebrow, the Doctor lifted a fingertip up to receive the offered biscuit. It was quite big by borrower standards, but still had room to spare on the pad of his first finger.

“He baked these in that tree? Like–?”

“Like Keebler, yeah. Made that joke already,” Zepheera chuckled breathily.

With a bemused yet fond smile, the Doctor popped the tiny cookie onto the tip of his tongue where it quickly lost integrity. That didn't stop the flavor from lingering, though. “Mm! Wow, that is good.”

“That boy…” Zepheera suddenly mused, drawing the Doctor's attention again. He could see her staring ahead in deep thought, almost worried to say what was on her mind. “He's going to be like that forever, isn't he?”

The Doctor blinked at this abrupt change of subject, but pondered aloud now that it was brought up. “The void– or…Aleph, I suppose they go by now…changed Tanner's physiology completely. He'll be alright, so long as they've got each other. Wouldn't be shocked if at this point Tanner needs Aleph to survive.”

“You know what I mean, Doctor,” said Zepheera in a slightly firmer tone, more pointed as he danced around the subject. For his part, the Doctor met her gaze only briefly before turning away as a courtesy while he let out a long breath.

“The void isn't a place where anything is meant to survive. Based on Aleph's descriptions…I don't think Tanner did, either. I don't believe in miracles, but I'll say that he was incredibly lucky that the void was conscious enough to revive him in any capacity.” As he reached the point that he knew Zepheera was needling him about, he looked back to her. “Aside from Tanner, though, it would have no frame of reference for what exactly life entails. And at this point…it's hard to say whether or not Aleph has the capacity to adapt further, even if they can learn what it means to be alive. To be mortal.”

“To age…”

The Doctor's lips pressed into a thin line. “It's hard to say,” he repeated evenly. “All of this is unprecedented, to say the least. We don't know what Aleph is capable of, so…we'll see.”

He held her gaze until she nodded in return. “Yeah… Time will tell, I guess.”

Though the Doctor could tell she wasn't completely convinced, she sounded reassured at least. More optimistic for the kid. Reaching up to poke at her dangling foot, the Doctor insisted, “They'll be alright.”

“I know,” she said as she gave his finger a half-hearted kick. Sensing the end of their serious talk, Zepheera packed away the box of biscuits and scooted more towards the center of the Doctor's shoulder.

Once she had more stable seating, the Doctor hopped out of the seat and turned his attention to the console, circling around to each panel and manipulating a few controls as he moved. “Right! So… Where to next?”

Zepheera moved even closer to the Doctor's neck, clinging to his collar in anticipation of the usual chaos that unfolded when he began to pilot in earnest. “Honestly? You were talking up that dragon planet and it did make me curious.”

“Ahh, Unktenari! Well, I definitely won't say no to that one. We'll have some better stories to tell Tanner and the others about it, then!” He quickly punched in the coordinates and braced his hand against the main lever. “Ready?”

“Always,” Zepheera smirked, gripping the fabric even tighter.

The Doctor grinned widely and threw the lever back with an enthusiastic “Allons-y!”

~~~

Oliver would be back any day now, according to James’s calendar app. It had been a boring month and a half, with his hours filled by the monotony of writing crime reports and keeping documents up to date.

He had joked that he and Oliver had a similar career in the past, though he couldn’t help but feel envious of the smaller man’s passion and motivation. It had almost driven him to work harder himself— for a day or two, before the boredom of talking with his coworkers made him revert to wanting to shut himself away from society again.

Seeing Mackenzie on the weekends was the only reprieve he got from his own thoughts, so every other day he tried to stay focused on updating reports and going on patrol, responding to calls at the drop of a hat just to have something to do. Since meeting Oliver, making conversation with anyone else just felt intolerable; he hadn’t realized how much he hated small talk until he was brought into Oliver’s world.

In his restless state Oliver’s voice played in the back of his mind with the usual light scoldings: “I don’t see why you let the washing up pile up so much before doing it”, “you ought to keep your shoes by the door rather than simply kicking them off”, “the fridge has different shelves for a reason. I can help you organize if you need help”.

Now the house was tidier than ever before.

So when James heard a familiar knock against his rear window he couldn’t help leaping up from the couch, almost tripping over the coffee table in the process, and opening the spotless window with a large grin smeared across his expression.

“Oliver..! Hey mate, how are you? Let me get you inside, it’s still a bit chilly out there, ent’it?” He reached down with calloused hands, fingers twitching with a suppressed desire to scoop the borrower up after missing him for so many weeks. Even so, his palms turned upwards instinctively as he offered his friend a lift, trying not to seem too eager.

Oliver smiled back up at him, removing his fur cloak from where it hung over his broad shoulders and stepping onto the offered hand with the same graceful and unbothered energy James had missed.

“I’m alright, thank you. A little worn out— my rounds didn’t go exactly as planned…” he replied, leaning casually against one of James’s fingers to stay upright as the human stood up straight again and closed the window, carrying them both back over to the sofa. His deep brown eyes focused on Oliver, giving the borrower his undivided attention as he sat down and lowered his hand to the coffee table.

“What happened? Nothing bad I hope.” Once his hand was no longer occupied he opened the drawer in the coffee table, removing a tiny sofa and ottoman he had bought almost a year ago and setting them down. Oliver collapsed onto the cushions before James’s hands had even fully retracted, laying across the sofa with his hands interlocked over his stomach.

“Overall, it’s quite the opposite. I…made a new friend— a borrower very similar to myself, and acquired two new lodgers in my burrow.” Despite his claim, James could see the troubled expression on his friend's face and leaned forward onto his knees with concern. “The new lodgers in question are Sammy and Tanner.”

It took a moment for those names to fully process in his brain, but as soon as they did James could feel his heart jump into his throat. Oliver rarely brought up his family; when he did whatever pleasant memory he was recalling to James would quickly turn to grief, so both men chose to avoid the topic most of the time. But James knew that Oliver had been alone for years, and he knew that he had started coming to terms with the fact that his missing cousins and aunt were dead.

Clearly not.

James inhaled sharply as he sat up, scratching at his stubble.

“Shit, Oliver. That’s…yeah I can imagine what a mix of emotions this must be. Are they okay? How did you find them anyway? I presume your ah..borrower friend helped,” he murmured, keeping his tone tactful as he stared down at his friend with a sympathetic wince. Oliver let out a hum, turning his gaze from the ceiling in order to meet James’s eyes.

He sat up and cleared his throat; an obvious sign of an incoming ramble that James was fortunately used to at this point.

“Well, on the very first day of my rounds I ended up crossing paths with an alien time traveler who happened to be friends with a borrower, and they requested my help with tracking down an energy that their ship had been picking up. I obliged, and although it turned out my help wasn’t necessarily needed I’m certainly grateful that I came along because we ended up in a secret underground lab and Sammy was in one of the rooms.” He paused to take a breath, but James quickly interrupted.

“Wait wait— what the hell do you mean alien time traveler?? Where were you??” he blurted, brows furrowed with confusion because he knew that Oliver didn’t usually lie but it definitely felt like a joke of some sort. Giving him a mildly scolding look for the interruption, Oliver readjusted his glasses and waved his hand dismissively at the questions, as if he could make them disappear by simply batting them away.

“I will explain properly in time, just…let me get my thoughts out please.” He waited for a nod from James before clearing his throat and continuing. “Right…so. It turns out Ryker, the one I kept asking for wellness checks on, he’s also an alien. Not a time traveler though, as far as I’m aware. And he had this…void…goo in his secret lab, which then turned out to be sentient and it was attached to Tanner, so it brought him out of the void and back into this dimension, though I’m almost certain he’s turned into some kind of undead being. I’m…suspecting that he won’t even age, and the implications of that are worrying.”

James allowed the silence that followed to hang in the air for several moments this time as Oliver caught his breath. Regaining some level of composure, Oliver looked up at him and let a soft breath fall from his bitten lips, hand rubbing at the back of his neck in an attempt to relieve some of his tension.

“I am overjoyed to have them both back— every morning it is a delight to wake up and see them both and know they are now safe. But I didn’t think it would feel this difficult— I was not prepared for the state they were both in, and the thought of what either of them have been through just breaks my heart. They both have nightmares regularly, and Sammy in particular keeps crying out in her sleep.” His brows knitted together, green eyes cast downwards at his lap as his hands shook slightly. “If I could take all of their pain and fears away even if it meant feeling everything myself in turn, I would do it in a heartbeat…”

Logically of course, James knew that it would have been almost impossible for Oliver to find his cousins in an untraumatized state given the circumstances of their capture from what he recalled. But even so, he and Oliver had been holding out hope that they might be okay; just out of reach, living out their lives as borrowers in another city. From the sounds of things though it was clear that Oliver’s aunt was presumably not in the picture, and that his cousins had been through something worse than hell.

“Awh mate…” James couldn’t help but bite the inside of his cheek nervously as he tried to think of something to do. It wasn’t often that Oliver needed comfort, but it was clear that this was one of those instances. He reached down and cupped his hands together slowly, nudging Oliver with his fingertip, silently asking his permission to continue. After receiving a short nod, James let his fingers connect under his friend’s tiny form, lifting him off of the couch and holding him in his lap. “Sounds like you need a proper relax. You sore or anything?”

Oliver shifted uncomfortably at the suggestion; resistant to the idea as always. James found it endearing what a hard worker the man was, but he could also be frustratingly stubborn about not letting anyone else take care of him.

“I’m…fine. It’s out of my system now.” he assured, laying back against the calloused palms cradling him.

Now that James got a second look, Oliver looked even more exhausted than normal. Raising an eyebrow to call his bluff, James pressed one of his fingers against the smaller man’s back, rubbing it in a repetitive soothing motion. As he suspected, even such a simple back rub was enough to make Oliver’s shoulders droop.

“Out of your system, my ass… I think you at least deserve a massage and a cuppa while you're here. And while we’re at it, I’m gonna need context on all this alien shite before it drives me mad.” Making sure not to be too forceful and watching Oliver carefully to gauge whether he was just being stubborn or if he was genuinely uncomfortable, James turned the borrower onto his stomach so that he could massage his back more effectively. Saltily, he added, “I thought you said you didn’t believe in any of that sort of ‘conspiracy stuff’.”

Begrudgingly the borrower relaxed into the gentle motions against his stiff back, shoving down his embarrassment with a sigh.

“Well…I didn’t. And I still don’t think aliens have interacted with earth in the way you think— but I certainly can’t deny that I did become entangled in alien activity,” he explained in a matter-of-fact tone. “I met the Doctor, who told me he was a Time Lord— a species that coincidentally looks very human despite having a different physiology. He was joined by Zepheera, a borrower, although afflicted with immortality. They were rather pleasant company.”

“Rather pleasant company,” James scoffed in disbelief, but tried hard to focus on the pressure he was applying; very aware of how fragile the body he was handling could be even if Oliver acted like he was made of solid steel. “You’re lucky they didn’t abduct you. 5-6% of people get abducted by aliens, you know!”

Oliver shook his head, letting it rest in his folded arms as James focused on his tense shoulders.

“We’ve spoken about this before. Those studies are hardly substantiated, and even if it were the case that those numbers were true, that wouldn’t make 5-6% the likelihood of being abducted.” He turned his head to one side so that his voice wouldn’t be muffled by his forearms, although he didn’t bother trying to look up at James at this angle. “Regardless, yes they were pleasant company. I have…never really been able to act as myself around other borrowers, as you know. It was nice to meet one as open-minded and intelligent as Zepheera.”

James at least had enough tact not to make any retorts about it this time, though he felt a mix of happiness for Oliver meeting someone of his own kind who was like-minded, and a hint of jealousy at the way he spoke about her. He knew that his friendship with Oliver couldn’t be the same as it was between him and other borrowers; simply because of the size difference and cultural differences, but it still stung to hear him hurl praises at this ‘Zepheera’ lady.

To distract himself, he changed the subject.

“And the guy running that laundry place turned out to be an alien too? What do you know... It seems obvious in hindsight, the guy seemed to have a few screws loose,” James remarked, before grimacing as he recalled Oliver’s cousins’ involvement with the man. “...I mean…you’d have to, if you’re willing to kidnap a couple of kids.”

Oliver simply nodded to that point. His eyes closed when James’s finger reached a particularly knotted area, tensing at first before relaxing once he managed to rid him of it. He always found himself surprised by what a delicate and precise touch James could have at times, considering how clumsy he was in other areas. He was trying not to fall asleep, his tired brain latching onto the conversation to claw himself back to consciousness.

“It wasn’t obvious. You and I both believed he was simply a man suffering with severe mental health issues, and I believe that is still the case, regardless of his species.” He let out a weary sigh, subtly rubbing at his eyes from under his glasses. “The Doctor took care of him anyway, so I can just be glad that monster can’t touch my cousins ever again. Among…other people. It seems that the shootings were his doing— he had a hit list, although I’m not sure why exactly.”

“Wait what?” James’s finger stopped for a moment, hovering above Oliver’s shoulders as that realization hit him like a tidal wave. His mouth opened and closed a few times in shock, then coughed awkwardly and added under his breath. “That is uh….that’s gonna be a difficult crime report to make. If I mention anything about aliens to the department they’ll definitely laugh me out of the workforce.”

Oliver slowly forced himself to sit back up, stretching before reclining back as he met James’s gaze, giving his hovering finger a reassuring pat.

“Apologies, I…perhaps should have kept that fact to myself.” He offered a soft smile, one that instantly eased James’s worries. The human huffed from his nose and leaned back against the sofa cushions, glancing towards the kitchen in consideration, debating whether he could be bothered to get up and make tea given all of the huge revelations that were suddenly being brought to his attention.

“Nah, mate. You’re fine.” He turned his gaze back down towards Oliver and quirked a lopsided grin. “Ya know…all this information is making me thirsty. Fancy a cuppa while we chat some more?”

Oliver’s own expression brightened at the suggestion, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he nodded.

Robbie-

-Smol boi -Not really good at talking -REALLY CLUMSY -Always looks tired -Cries when he accidentally loses his arms/legs/eyes -Not because it hurts -but because he doesn’t want to give hendric more work -No one can tell tho -Such a fluffy child -Loves big sweaters and hot chocolate -REALLY SLOW AT EVERYTHING. -If he tries really hard, he can say maybe 3 words within 5 minutes, tops. -Talking hurts, so he just moans for attention -Is really prone to over stimulation -Hendrik always has noise cancelling headphones on hand when they leave the house -Seems closer to hendric than anyone for some reason??? -Love’s affection, especially physical. -Cuddles are always welcome -has like, 1000 stuffed animals -Like’s colorful/shiny things

Jackie-boy-man-

-The hero we don’t need or want -but we have him anyways -No real powers, but he tries his best. -Punches crime! -Think’s he’s a good super hero -Really isn’t??? -but no one’s gonna tell him that. -just let him be happy. -Super soft. Like, SUPER soft. -If you criticize him at all, he might actually start crying. -Same goes if you compliment him -Act’s like he has a big ego but not really??? -Like, he would say “IT IS I! THE AMAZING FANTASTIC EXTRAVAGANT- (ect.)”, but the moment you say “Hey, you’re pretty cool.” he will be weeping and hugging you. -Likes to make other people feel better -PMA is his real super power! -He never lets people be down on themselves! -”Hey! Things might be bleak, but You’re smart! You’re important! You deserve to be happy! Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!” -ok, so maybe he IS the hero we all need.

Marvin the magician-

-The mysterious one -Everyone thought he was just a joke -Then he disappeared -When he came back, he had a cat mask, and actual magic -I totally agree with the hair in a man bun thing -Doesn’t talk much, but not for the same reason as robbie. -Acts like a cat (in different ways than Anti) -Like’s to keep to himself -Isn’t easily amused -Thinks he’s better than everyone -Probably is -he is almost always reading (usually the books are in different languages) -Doesn’t show much emotion, and the most you can get him to say is “yes”, “no”, or “This is what I had to leave my room for?” -Owns at least 2 cats. Probably 3. -all of them were strays that just kinda started following him around. -if you take him out into an ally, he will be SURROUNDED by cats in 10 seconds flat. -Acts unfeeling, but if you can get him to smile, it will make the sun look dark by comparison -Purrs when people pet his hair (Witch is a fact he keeps to himself) -Hisses when he’s pushed past his limit. -Actually likes physical contact, as long as he’s initiating it. -With an S.O., he’s super protective, and a bit less unfeeling -Not such a bad guy after all

Jamison-

-OK BUT LOOK AT THIS DAPPER BOI -he dosn’t have to wear boe ties and vests -But he dose anyways -He is ALWAYS ready to be fancy! -He’s definitely mute. -Since not everyone can use ASL, he carries around a small blackboard with chalk -He COULD use a whiteboard, but he likes the chalk better. -This way, everyone can hear when he’s trying to write something -Back in the day, he used to be an announcer, but that all ended when he lost his voice. -No one knows how that happened, but the dapper boi doesn’t seem too keen on sharing that info. -Super sweet -#1 Gentleman.  -Carries around a handkerchief for when people are sad or sick -Always holds doors for people -Pulls out people’s chairs at meals -manners are turned up to an 11 with this guy -Super old fashioned -Kinda shy. -Doesn’t like to draw attention to himself, despite how he dresses -Super modest -he’s definitely a  Pacifist  -doesn’t like physical contact: it makes him nervous -He has PTSD, but no one really knows what’s up with that. -also, he’s a FANTASTIC DANCER -he has an old-timy record player in his room -and BOI can he dance! -but in short: -Strong hearted gentleman with a shy side