#positronicoverlore

          "Evil itself. Hm. Now where've I 'eard tha' before?"

          The words are quick but rounded at the edges, not as sharp as they could've been and he doesn’t say what he’s really thinking. He doesn’t say that it only means anyone who knows Lore’s name must never have met the Doctor. He's heard it before though, those words, and it echoes in his memory banks like a faded recording, withered with time. It flickers behind his pale eyes, and his insides squirm with how his question, if posed to the right person, would quickly be answered with the Doctor's own name. He's killed. He's telepathically manipulated. He's stricken fear in the hearts of entire civilizations.

          He relates to Lore, and he doesn't like the bitter, metallic flavor it leaves on the back of his tongue.

          "Course, you do realize that when you decided t'rise up an' get back at 'em for treatin' you like you didn't matter- t'show humanity just 'ow monstrous you could be, y'didn't get revenge or... or settle some ancient grudge against them. Don't you see? By doing what you did, you proved humanity right." He sucked in a breath, scrunching his face as though it pained him to say it, then shook his head almost the way a disappointed father might to a child when proving a point.

          The words burned inside of the Doctor's chest, both of his hearts on fire. He could've been talking about himself, easily, and it'd only made the words sharpen as he'd said them. It wasn't necessarily like looking in the mirror- rather, it was as if he were staring into a reflection in a rippling stream. Not quite him, but definitely familiar.

          Too familiar.

          His words became dark, his face drawn into hard lines.

positronicoverlore reblogged your photo:ginsbergg: ginsbergg: victoriel: Test your...

I’m a tiger. Does that mean I got the eye of the tiger? :P

“uh huh.”   eyebrows rise,  and for a moment her jaw shifts ever so slightly,  as if she’s trying with everything she’s got not to correct what she’s almost positive is a comment that’s entirely sarcastic.  sometimes,  despite years of training and experience,  kat finds herself struggling to be sure.  in this case,  though,  she decides to offer her own response from a more clinical perspective,  despite an urge to offer some biting sarcasm of her own,   “you know,  more often than not?  comments like that one stem from an underlying place of insecurity and self doubt.”   she hasn’t practiced in years,  and yet  ---  “is there something on your mind?”  

A sigh escaped Ezri's lips as she just got the report that she'd be facilitating in the rehabilitation of the Android known as Lore. She knew it was going to be difficult to do and he also probably didn't do this willingly which would make it more difficult. She heard the notification tone on her door telling her that he was outside. "Come in!" She called from behind her desk, quickly rubbing her temples. As he came in her was escorted by three security officers.

"You all may leave now, stay nearby but you can't be in here." She told the officers, ushering them out of her office.

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As the edge left Lore’s voice, Dustfinger’s gaze rose again, no longer fearful of swift retribution, but prepared to be more cautious in their conversation.

Lore’s question was a good one.  Yes, Fire-Dancer, why are you still following him?  He'd hardly thought about it consciously himself.  He supposed it was that the android was the closest he’d gotten to something familiar, strange as it seemed for a mechanical man.  He too was a stranger in the galaxy, wandering without a home.  He wasn’t especially kind, but he looked at and spoke to Dustfinger like he was a person.

This place was much too fast for Dustfinger, and Lore wasn’t afraid to take it slow, and play the long game.  He seemed practically immortal, and in no great rush like the rest of the quadrant, to see and do as much as he possibly could in as little time as possible.  So despite their many, many differences, and the fact that he was so clearly unwanted, Dustfinger stayed with Lore.

@positronicoverlore​ sent: ❝ did you cut yourself carving the pumpkin? let me see it. ❞  for beverly!

eyebrows rise ever so slightly as gaze shifts from the sight of the crimson flowing steadily from the cut on her hand.  it’s minor,  luckily,  caused by an uncharacteristic slip of the hand  ---  truly,  it’s the fact that she’d managed to injure herself at all that frustrates beverly more than anything.  lore’s words pull her from that,  however,  replacing frustration with bewilderment   (   it’s an effective distraction,  at least   ).   “i wasn’t aware you had any medical training,”   she tries to keep herself from sounding too surprised,  but  ---  well,  it is a rather unexpected revelation.

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“I believe you’ve been desperate for quite a long time,” Dustfinger replied, ignoring Lore’s rather insulting remark about all intelligent races.  Let him believe what he wanted for now.  If the two of them joined forces, he’d soon learn otherwise.

“Rather like me.”  He paused for a moment, trying harder than ever to get a read on the android’s face.  He certainly seemed stern and grim, but Dustfinger couldn’t be sure that he was reading him correctly.  “A desperate man can be dangerous, but he doesn’t have to be bad.”