dvora.

brows furrowed, as they so often are on this face, at the sight of his erstwhile companion, mentee and friend. a plethora of emotions are felt at once, he should probably focus on the positive ones. his friend is alive, not stuck in a time-loop or a pocket dimension like the rest of their people but he finds that hard to express, doesn't he?

as if she's trying to be his complete opposite, romana is nothing if not calm. the way her eyes lull over from her notebook to his is almost frigid, matter-of-fact, like this reunion means little—that it's nothing more than an inconvenience. there's a slight furrow in her nose bridge, a close examination of the man the doctor is now, all grey curls & harsh edges that betray his bleeding hearts, but it hints that romana's cold exterior is more of an act than anything else. there is a shallow darkness between them, the last time they ever spoke was a very long time ago, & it was hardly a conversation. romana, back when her face was rounder & her affect was more expressive, begging that byronic figure of his to help their people in the war, & him offering nothing in return but a scowl.

her as volumnia, him as coriolanus, in the end rome would burn anyway, but the doctor never faced his punishment.

she laughs at the suggestion, “ oh, worry not, she must've told you already—the anomaly of her duality, the two livias, nothing less than a strain on our transduction barriers. of course, it'd be easier if she weren't from my homeworld, splintered across the timelines to land wherever your gallifrey resides. ” if it's truly anybody's, romana doesn't attribute as much value on possessive pronouns as her counterpart. only because she knows what is hers. “ i'm sure you could visit without too much hassle, for example. ” that might have been an offer, but the intention vanishes beneath a glass brought to her lips. romana's eyes move away, sipping quietly on the familiar taste of her adoptive bloodline. it's never sweet enough, she can the taste decaying wood.

there's still some heartshaven coded onto her genes, no matter how much the teeth of house dvora tear away at anything lesser. even with both families dead, her heritage fights a war of attrition somewhere deep within, & it's like a fuse lit.

“ all pleasure, no feeling? ” she asks, a note of actual curiosity in her tone. it's easy to note the parallel, whereas she knows livia as her lord high chancellor, her trusted right hand & almost equal in the jungle of capitol realpolitik—here, livia is the one who sits on the throne, romana languishing at her feet like a prize won, having her hair stroked or pulled depending on her usefulness to the lord president. oh, her counterpart tries to carve away emotion like meat off bone, but she knows herself too well. this affair of theirs, no matter how often they pretend its all a matter of pragmatism, of two predators working together to cull the herd instead of circling each other, fighting over scraps. when they bleed they know who will lick their wounds away, who will hold tightly onto the other into the early hours of the morning so they never suffer alone.

but there's less dependency, livia has status & power, it's not like ... leela, where without the president's blessing the only kindness she would've been shown was exile to the outlands. on this other gallifrey, carmilla has taken up that role, & now she is at livia's mercy. it adds irony to her smile, as if she thinks her counterpart deserves it. romana steps in after her, stopping short of the armchair, “ don't worry. ” she reassures, raising her hands to clap twice before a sheet of linen falls from the ceiling onto the table. now her grin is coy once more & she hunches down to grab the sheet from the edges to whisk it off into the floor. where there was nothing before, two wines glasses appear. “ i have the axis wrapped around my finger. ” romana finally sits down.

“ hmm, ” she hums, curving her lips into a rather self-assured smile, a kind of arrogance to her that life has tried ever so hard to smother into silence. it might've exhausted her previous incarnation, but this face, this body, it sprung to life with a zeal for living in defiance that was almost unnatural. a flower growing in a desert, basking in deadly sunlight. “ i see she's impressed herself upon you. ” or imprinted, to be precise, but romana wouldn't judge the social dynamics of vampires & their yssgaroth-derived next of kin. she's merely happy, or at least bemused, to see that livia has managed to ensnare herself another romana to warm her bed. “ don't worry, i understand, i have a livia all to my own. ” not that she'd use these words in the presence of her high chancellor, because the breach of continuity happened separate of their tumultuous affair.

“ & our relationship to promiscuity is, as you'll know, akin to the war-time concept of mutually assured destruction. ” although they benefit from a high council that is a quarter non-gallifreyan, a synonym for being more open-minded. livia & her find their fun in pretending their mutual antagonism survived from their prior selves onward, it makes for wonderful political theatre—with a lord president arguing for the highest extremes & her high chancellor urging moderation, trying to talk her down. always finding common ground in a solution they both reached privately, before agreeing to perform animosity. it makes her smile more earnest, it's truly quite entertaining.

Carmilla hides an amused smile. Perhaps this evening would be more interesting than she thought, if her counterpart is so easily unsettled. The shadows curl curiously around them.

romana halts, turning her head to glare at carmilla, “ i told you not to say anything. ” her voice is sharp, void of anything but reprimand, as if she would ever listen to her own orders. disobedience flows through their bloodline, but romana expected her counterpart to be smarter, not to have livia come running down the axis corridors to a homeworld now hostile to her. “ but ... whatever, i fixed it for you. ” her hand waves away the prior venom, the word 'fixed' doing all the heavy lifting.

she let livia down gently, stroked her hair & allowed her to cry in her president's lap as she stewed on the fact she never really left—that whatever anomaly dragged her to another gallifrey splintered her along her timeline. one lives on as lord high chancellor, romana's right hand & trusted confidant, while the other drifts as lord president on a homeworld turning towards its own destruction. romana should feel more anguish at that, but as her hands settle back into her suit's pockets & she's back to striding, she finds herself empty, holding nothing within but a handful of ice.

Carmilla walks beside her, and the shadows peel themselves off the corners to follow them. But draining her isn't tonight's goal, much as she'd like to know what it's like to bite her own neck, to compare the flavour of a version without her curse. To know what Lord Prydon would have tasted. Does perversion have a stronger flavour than paradox? Carmilla forces the thought away. They'll drink the wine, nothing more.

“ ah, ” romana smacks her lips, her eyes darting to the shadows taking form on the walls around them. she's never one to deny a brush with danger, & what's deadlier than a vampire who knows you intimately? nevertheless, romana strides with confidence, hands in pockets trying to look ahead. she's survived worse. “ guilty as charged. ” one can not lie to themselves, never so directly, when they walk beside you & you can look into your own eyes to see everything you've deny about yourself.

“ nothing you should worry about, it is just maintenance, but expedited by an as of yet unaccounted factor. i always hate those, don't you? ”

Care for a drink? These drones hardly need supervision, so unless there’s another reason for your presence here… you may as well join me. The others won’t miss what they never had.”

romana looks puzzled for a moment. “ i was being sarcastic, ” she responds, flatly—now, a bit more cheerfully, “ & i like to look at myself as a fresh start. ” make the most of another self-induced regeneration, this time for politics over vanity, but she wouldn't be herself if she didn't sprinkle in a little vanity, & one can tell whenever she smiles. thin lips pressed into a lopsided smile, her sharp eyes half-lidded.

it seems her counterpart wants to have fun, & how can she deny the offer? here in the axis there are no guards or agents to stop romana from seeking her reprieve.

“ i can imbibe, ” she shrugs. “ if only for a little while. i programmed the engineers personally, they don't need me to hover over them every waking second. they'll beep at me from their station if anything goes wrong. ” the chance for which is never zero, not when you're dealing with a parallel world that's more teratoma than planet.

Romana inspects her counterpart. Hands trembling slightly, though she’s trying to hide it. Interesting. Carmilla isn’t expected for a few spans yet, so there’s no harm in pressing further. And, there’s the possibility of something intriguing. Maybe a compromise, maybe a negotiation. Maybe just a conversation. Either way, Romana’s in no hurry to walk away.

romana rolls on her feet, her hands finding their comfort in the cotton blends of her suit jacket. “ oh, nothing really, just routine maintenance. ” a half-lie, because while there's certainly maintenance involved there's nothing routine about it, but why worry her counterpart with a threat that hopefully won't befall her? “ you know, since this whole endeavor, ” her right hand is brought out & she gestures vaguely at the gray ceiling. “ was my proposal ... i-in case you're wondering why the lord high president is wasting her time overseeing engineering drones. ” which she might, given she's another her, & romana doesn't want to give the impression she's become some kind lost revenant haunting the axis. heavens help her if that does come true.

Send 💬 + a rumor and my muse will react to it.

“ – my dear Romana…” Her word was uttered like a sigh, while he leaned back in the armchair he had taken a seat in about a minute ago. Even for him, it had been a long day – long days? Time was, after all, relative to them and while their adventure had taken a few on-planet days, he was unsure how much time had passed since they had stepped back into the sanctuary of the TARDIS. It did not matter, but his mind wandered instead of answering the question he had been asked. If one wanted to call the allegations made a question, that was!

“ well ... ” she trails off, sheepishly retreating from her eager inquiry, but there's a mischievous glint in her eyes as they dart away, first downward then side to side. romana is trying to look & sound awkward, as if the question could lead into some deeply personal territory—which it might, if not for the doctor, at least for the sharpest student in her school year, whom everyone greeted with backhanded compliments & whispered of their thinly veiled hatred behind her back. “ this might be a classic case of transference, projection, you've met one of my contemporaries. ”

 ❝ How are things here? The Generator has kicked in at least. ❞ One less thing to worry about. The lab was quiet. A complete contrast to the minor chaos upstairs. What was it about the dark that made people queasy? The relative darkness of the floors above them seemed to have tapped into some primal fear that existed in the back of everyone's minds. Herself included.

The truth was irrefutable. Just making her way down here, with nothing but the light of her phone to guide her, Kate had felt an eerie sense of dread clinging to her like a second skin. Was that a uniquely human trait, she wondered, or did that fear exist in every intelligent creature? Time lords, for example.

halloween is the exact kind of earth holiday that wizzes past romana's desire to understand it. every day on gallifrey is costume day, with the flowing, ceremonial robes color matched to one's position or chapter, & the ornate collars that tire one's shoulders & strain one's neck. she'd rather walk in to UNIT's headquarters in her usual tailored suits, but in an effort to appease her colleagues & pass as human on a day dedicated to breaking the social contract, romana has chosen to go as a vampire. there's personal humor in the decision, she doubts anyone knows that she's dressed as her people's ancient enemy, & if she happens upon any fellow time lords in disguise, well, their offense at her costume will be most amusing.

red lace, a victorian dress covered with a furred coat, her hair done in curls & cut to shoulder length. romana's echoing a specific fictional vampire whose name escapes her at the present moment, & just as it sits on the tip of her tongue the lights go out & chaos trickles down from upstairs. the lab sits in pitch black, her surroundings rumble with some ungodly chittering that freezes her in place. not out of fear, but to allow her eyes time to adjust to the darkness. gallifreyans see far better in the dark, far better in most contexts but romana's not about to espouse the superiority of her people's physiology to whatever creature has breached containment.

at least, not until kate stewarts stumbles into the room & shines a flashlight directly into her eyes, highlighing her irises as two white flecks—like the red reflex of a camera flash in low light, visible even after the beam moves away from romana's face. she stands there, a shadowed figure with two white dots where her face should be. “ kate? ” romana whispers, not startled but noticeably cautions, “ i-i wouldn't move if i were you, i think there's an uninvited guest in here with us. ”

“This is Lilith, a reformed matrix simulation of a certain type 101 Timeship. She’s rather invested in this little situation. If not for her damaged biodata, I’d suggest she restrain Niana.

But you misunderstand. I’m not asking you to control zir. I want you to hypnotise me.”

She continues, before Romana can interject.

“You’re quite right, it would be unfeasible to have someone control zir from such a distance away. No, I’ll do it myself. It would be more precise, less invasive, if I adjust it as necessary. And, while I may not have your skill at telepathy, I do know how best to… redirect zir impulses, without ‘completely subjugating’ them.”

The suggestion of sending zir to another world has objective merit, but something strange and possessive in her objects to allowing Niana out of her sight, beyond her control protection, out, where ze could be harmed or cause harm, without her guidance.

“It would be better to allow zir to rest in a place of familiarity. Perhaps later, when ze realises there is nothing for zir here, we can arrange for zem to leave. But for now, we need some way to ensure ze doesn’t reveal us both, in an ill-timed moment of impulsivity. Seeking out this option is merely being proactive. It would be better to have the foundation laid before it’s needed, rather than allowing the ‘last resort’ to be a belated scramble for control.

But I need to know if it would work. If any hypnosis is strong enough to overcome vampiric desire. Dq luulwdwlqj frqfhswxdo hqwlwb rqfh lqfuhdvhg pb eorrgoxvw vlawhhq-irog. Lw zdv doo L frxog gr wr glh lqvwhdg ri jlyh lq. Could a hypnotic failsafe have prevented that? It would be negligent not to try.”

Her voice wavers, then strengthens "I am grateful that you would be willing to accept zir, Lady President. But I must have assurance that no harm would come to zir, and that zir autonomy wouldn't be taken away, if ze were to go to House Yssgaroth".

the name lilith & the phrase 'type 101 timeship' produce no reaction out of romana, if she has any familiarity with these terms she doesn't show it. instead she sheepishly waves & smiles awkwardly in whichever direction the other voice came from.

it's the blink-&-you'll-miss-it instinctive, stiffening recoil to as little as a whisper that adds to the ever growing pool of amusement lighting up romana's face. who better to get under your skin than yourself, who else would know every entry point that lies beneath the epidermis? she knows she holds the advantage, the fear of intimacy burned under the warmth of touch & every folly of her previous incarnation along with it. but shades of the woman she used to be live within her counterpart, & for a brief moment romana wonders what it's like for that coldness she so often desired to be permanent, a fixture of the flesh that no caressing hand could take away.

the sympathy only lasts a second, however, because the impasse reached is all too familiar. it makes romana turn on her heels as she runs fingers through her hair. she groans before she speaks, but she dials down the frustration in her voice, “ of course, reject the sensible solution in favor of a highly risky complicated roundabout. ” she stomps her foot, letting her hair unfurl without bothering to fix it. “ you really are me. ” she mutters that phrase as accusatorily as she can, the jovial attitude a porcelain mask cracking to reveal only scorn. the sudden shift is tactical, guilt is the pressure point romana wants to press as her brows furrow—her achilles' heel.

“ you want me to hypnotize you, to reach within the confines of your mind with a pair of shears & prune the weeds? fine. ” rather than allow this fledgling vampire a chance to thrive on gallifrey original. although in her bitterness there hides an omitted fact, that her people have hardly outgrown their hostile rejection of anything yssgaroth, that its representatives can not walk in the capitol's sunlight because the binary solar cycle is designed to scorch them alive. but the council's given them a homestead, a land to live on, a food supply they can either eat or hunt, & the cover of darkness to with as they please. better with than without, or so romana thinks.

“ i don't know if i even can whisk away instinct, because a vampire's need to feed goes far beyond the limits of conscious & unconscious thought. but i am willing to experiment, however fruitlessly. ” she closes the distance made earlier, & romana readies herself for an excursion in her opposite's mindscape, a deep breath & fingers brought upwards, ready to press herself onto the other romana's mind. “ although it seems your disembodied friend isn't in full agreement, & i can assure her that for however imperfect the instatement of house yssgaroth was, niana will be safe among their fellow vampire. i promise to keep them under my protection. ”

“Hypnotism. There are other options. An appetite suppressant was hastily given to me, but the side effects were not particularly thoroughly considered. There were more pressing concerns.

My efforts to train zir in self denial and restraint are… impractically unfeasible. I myself have the benefit of a century of experience, but ze doesn’t have that time, and I would be hesitant to make her experience it if there’s a better option.

A program to inhibit mechanical action is also an option, but that would require something to imitate— and thus we return to hypnotism.

"I... I do thank you for hearing us out, Lady President Romanadvoratrelundar. In truth I... I've been trying my best for zir but... I don't know what to do".

the bared fangs only further her amusement, they could never terrify her—after all, was it not romanadvoratrelundar who argued for a truce between the time lords of gallifrey & their ancient enemy? was it not her hand that singed a peacetime offer that allowed a small delegation of humanoid vampires to live on gallifrey, a coven of their very own living just beyond the myridian mountains, where house dvora once stood? her family wasn't using the land anyway, not after her & the doctor burned her ancestral home down. it's put to better use now, & their guests are allowed to hunt in the very same forests her & her cousins once stalked with staser rifles ready.

at least vampires are born predators, unlike the sons & daughters of dvora.

romana rolls on her heels, pushing herself off the unsteady ground of past misdeeds & onto the present conversation, absorbing & assessing all the relevant information on her other self's victim. it's not a pretty subject, self denial & restraint were what romana's prior incarnation was best at, & though she likes to think she's outgrown the chains one clasps around themself, they still have their place.

“ hmm, & you want me to, what, hypnotize them? get in their head, dominate them, tear out all the unpleasant thoughts of murder & mayhem & make them obey? ” she phrases it at its most extreme, because as her counterpart should know, hypnosis of this caliber is much easier to perform than to have it done to you. not for lacking skill, romana's honed her mind for subterfuge in her present body out of necessity, but on the mere principle of not sewing puppet strings when you've had yours cut. livia might imagine romana had her under some spell, but she welcomed her thoughts as their minds merged in dead of night. not to repress or subjugate, but argue.

it's not romana's fault that she's become effortlessly persuasive.

“ no, no, only as a last resort & even then, i'm not comfortable with it. ” her head swerves to one side, fingers practicing at an invisible piano, contemplating each variable, “ any hypnosis won't last forever, the suppressant needs constant application & more potency over time. ” she pauses for a heartbeat, hiding her hands in her coat pockets once more, only to fully turn to face the other romana with a knowing glint in her eye. “ i'd hate to steal your own fledging off you, carmilla, but they'd be better served by spending some time among more of their kin. you already know of my house yssgaroth, & the lady karstein who oversees the coven can teach them the ropes, as it were. ” with centuries more experience in the art of bloodletting than her vampiric double, but this isn't a competition. “ for a while, at least, we'll have them back when they manage self control—start by sending out a small unmanned extraction capsule to a remote location on your gallifrey & handle the rest. ”

“Trey?” Romana matches her careless manner, but allows herself to seem confidently and effortlessly imposing. There are no Castellans here to intimidate, so there’s no reason to use her robes as a barrier, and polite, empty smiles as a distraction for whatever she fails to hide. “In a sense. They call me Carmilla. I think I’d prefer Fred, but Livia advised quite strongly against it. That Gallifrey has no appreciation of irony.”

She’s testing her, watching how she reacts to each name, and how she chooses to respond. Romana stops, slightly further away than the Heartshaven tutors would deem acceptable, and allows her counterpart to close the distance, if she chooses.

“ carmilla? ” romana all but laughs, the playful half smile curving fully, becoming perhaps too genuine. her eyes squint as she steps a bit closer, taking in every oddity of a more tainted version of herself, as if that little bit of vampire present in every time lord could bloom like mold & sharpen her canines. there are more pressing matters at play, of course, but romana won't waste this chance to pick & prod however she sees fit, & thus she kneels before a noble, taking their hand to press their fingers against her lips, “ countess, my apologies, ” she bows her head, before raising to full stature.

“ yes, i've heard—from, um, ” she clears her throat, her eyes darting away awkwardly. “ livia. ” which was perhaps the strangest thing, because her high chancellor was at her side when her communicator pinged, & they both peered in enraptured curiosity & veiled terror at all the tall tales of another livia having made a life on gallifrey. vampires, timeships, skirmishes with living sphinxes, a thrilling story begging for investigation that romana simply couldn't resist. being able to shepherd a lost lamb is just a bonus, & given her other self cursed this person with her affliction for blood, a way to assuage guilt from one romana of many.

she won't mention the two livias, that's for her temporal engineers to figure out.