Lynda's bedroom in Sydney

[lyndawithay]

Between the transformation of Daedalus and Giacomo, the appearance of Miss Gate's former self, Ood getting dumped, and the growing insanity of several people over conflicting versions of their backstories, I feel like I haven't slept in a month. Sometimes I feel like Martha and I are the only sane ones here.

And we still haven't yet caught Bruce the Tiger, or found out what, if anything, the Dream Police are up to.

I'm so tired. Of all of it.

*falls asleep*

*dreams*

Comments

[lonely-ood.livejournal.com]

*brushes a hand through your hair. Meets your eyes, serious, concerned... and then laughs, gently but slightly cracked*

Sweetheart... outside of your dreams, I'm still going mad. Not just from the grief, but from the doubt. If you had me with you, in the real world, you might still have a dissociated wreck.

At least the thing we did bought us some time. We've been less likely to do anything stupid... but we have to find you some way to deal with this. And how to keep me sane.

...I don't know what to do either, my love. Except this.

Who knows, given time Arthur may get in touch with his repressed homosexuality. Or run off with that mad sheep.

[jblum.livejournal.com]

*slides into the scene in a hazy, spectral way, sneaking in through the sort of entrances usually reserved for otteronuppers*

You poor kids. For what it's worth... I really do think you'll be all right somehow. But I've got no idea how.

Though if you want some advice, sweethearts? If you want to know why, about the breakup and everything, you might want to talk to off_coloratura. She's the only other person I know who had a sock hand in it. She might have some more idea why.

Kate and I will be going soon, so I just wanted to thank you for a hell of a dream.

Oh, and?

*looks Lynda up and down, respectfully but appraisingly*

...Not bad. Not bad at all.

[lyndawithay]

*covers up and blushes*

Oh, ha ha ha.

[off_coloratura]

Oi! Leave me out of this, Blum!

[lonely-ood.livejournal.com]

*quietly pained look*

Any time you want to stop using me to work out your bizarre psychosexual metatextual obsessions is fine with me, sir...

[lyndawithay]

Why aren't you going mad in here, sweetheart?

It kills me to see how you are outside of here. If I did have you with me, maybe I could do something. Comfort you, properly. Help you find yourself again. Something.

I love this, but it's transient. When I'm awake I miss it so much.

[lonely-ood.livejournal.com]

...Perhaps it's because I don't have to convince myself it's real in here. It's like a holiday from sense. I can be anyone I want, I can be with anyone I want. Even her... if she'd have me.

*caresses your cheek* If you want to help me, don't ruin your marriage over it. Take me to the Doctor, he might know what to do, or at least know where in the universe we could find specialists in metafictional metaphysical breakdowns. Get everyone together, anyone who could help, try to keep me grounded. Just hold on to me the way you have been, that's the best thing you can do for me. Get me well again... then we can work out what to do, together.

*slow, lingering kiss, caressing just around the edges of your lips*

[lyndawithay]

You know, she might, in here.

All right, sweetheart. I'll try to help you. Hang in there, okay?

*kisses you tenderly in return, sighing at your little caresses*

No one I've ever known kisses like you.

I love you.

-Arthur?

*wakes up*