[ The Doctor waves a finger in a 'Oh, you cheeky little rascal' sort of way, and then whirls off towards the place where he'd left the hot water and the two mugs already set out with one tea bag each.
He'd also found some biscuits in one of the cupboard, likely some leftovers from a recent movie night or something. He'd be glad to know those are still happening. ]
Oh, and it is good to see you again too, old friend.
[ The Doctor's beaming smiles gets a little soft near the end, eyes bright and a little twinkly. ]
I hope you've got some good stories to tell me, eh? I want to hear everything, especially all of the exciting bits. Actually you can leave out all the boring things, save us both a bit of time.
[ it's definitely a comfort to have, something almost reassuring with the days of uncertainty up ahead. the crew getting a little bigger than normal and recruiting a number of old faces has definitely been a bit of a red flag about whatever could be looming ahead. ]
Not much to tell. More missions, more orbs. And this station's got a bit of fucked up history, but we all kind of saw that coming. [ just don't ask him about it.
he walks further into the kitchen, sidestepping where the doctor had retreated back to the mugs to instead take a seat at the nearest table, cigarette brought back up to his lips to take a drag. ]
More curious to hear what happened to you. You went back by choice.
[ technically, he went back too, but. there hadn't been much choice to that. ]
I did. [ Go back by choice, he means. ] I thought I was doing the right thing, you see, going back and finishing what I started. I lived a rather good life here, did it the normal, slow way too.
[ He pauses in his preparations, mouth pressed into a thin line. He ... learned to exist in time passing as it does for every other human, learned how to be more human than he was, learned to fall in love, fell very much in love, and learned to accept that perhaps there came a time in his life to accept moving on and forward and all of that. He'd learned to make way for his next regeneration. Accepted it, even.
But he only remembers all of that now, here, because he's back. And that's the weird bit. ]
But no. The moment I went back, I forgot everything. And with one breath left ... well, I was asked to come here — again — and I thought: well, why not? Of course I only remembered everything once I woke up here again.
[ He can only attribute that to the orbs, and only now does he remember what he remembers and remembers that he'd forgotten what he should have remembered and all of that is really rather perplexing, and a little sad.
All those promises he'd made to help some of his friends here when this was all over ... he thinks of Rosinante and Law, and Newt, the former of whom he hasn't seen around yet ... ]
Don't think I'm letting you off the hook, you know. This station's been home for quite a long time, I'll want to know just how it's all gone topsy-turvy. I suppose it'll have to do with Viveca and the Commander, then?
Yeah, they — shit didn't go too well with the last crew.
[ and so, kovacs explains it all, how they'd returned from a mission to find themselves in the station not quite the same as it'd been when they'd left it, and the memories that some of the crew had begun to witness, the realization of all the losses with the previous crew, and degar and viveca's deal to fix it.
his cigarette is burnt out plenty by the time he's done.
but his mind keeps drifting to the doctor's words, and the loss of memory, how a choice to return ultimately doesn't feel like much of a choice at all. ]
You forgot everything. [ he repeats a bit after his own storytelling, his eyes drifting off, peering through the haze of smoke from his hand. ] Everything we do here, everything we've given up, everyone we've — [ given up. clung to. ] There's no way to keep it all. Either we go the way of the old crew or we go back and give it all up or — or, by some miracle, all this shit works by the end of all of this, and it all changes anyway. There's no route where we keep this.
[ Kovacs starts to speak, sparing no detail, leaving no rock unturned, and the Doctor sits still and listens. He listens and he absorbs and he doesn't shift and jitter and otherwise act like an impatient child. The tea is sipped, and biscuits are snacked on, and eventually the last of the tea grows cold with the dregs settling at the bottom of their mugs. ]
Well, I'm not so sure about that. [ No promises, of course, but things aren't always fixed to one point — and this feels different. Events can change, more outcomes can reveal themselves as they continue forward, and the very fact that he's here again is proof of some unexplainable strange force at work.
And, as they've all been told time and time again: the orbs are unpredictable. ]
You see, not all of the orbs have been collected, and perhaps what happened before might not happen this time. After all, the last time the old crew nearly gathered all of the orbs, they didn't quite complete the task before Viveca and Degar changed their regret, did they? They didn't recruit several more of us to help the last time. [ Didn't really have a chance to either, but that isn't the point. ] Already, the possibilities within this timeline are changing, which means we just don't know what might happen next.
[ He sits back, frowning in thought. ]
Besides — even if we go back to our worlds without knowledge of our memories here, that doesn't mean they didn't happen. It doesn't mean that all of this loses any of its importance, eh? We never really forget.
[ ever the optimist. if that were all it is to the doctor, kovacs probably wouldn't like him. or at least, be a lot more annoyed with him. but he knows the doctor, knows that he thinks, that he observes, just as he does, and he has plenty of years behind him to stitch together the ideals he holds now. there's a long life there, one that kovacs has come to trust.
but even with the way he can come to respect his optimism, it's not always contagious. ]
Except we do forget. [ there's a bit more strain to his voice now, some of the calm losing out to a bit of tension carried in his shoulders. ] Even if we succeed and the events still count towards the timeline, even if our bodies retain the memory that our brains don't, we don't get —
[ he cuts himself off from a sharper frustration, fingers pinching a bit harder at the shortened cigarette stub he's holding. his eyes turn away, going quiet to take a moment to relax his voice again, softer when he continues. ]
I don't want to go back without her. [ he finally admits, raising his eyes to the doctor. all this time it's been on his mind, left unsaid, even to the subject in question. the doctor returns and kovacs feels that familiar itch of confessing all of his secrets to him. ] The life I've built with her here — with Marta — if we finish this, it all goes away. I can't keep it, any of it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ The Doctor waves a finger in a 'Oh, you cheeky little rascal' sort of way, and then whirls off towards the place where he'd left the hot water and the two mugs already set out with one tea bag each.
He'd also found some biscuits in one of the cupboard, likely some leftovers from a recent movie night or something. He'd be glad to know those are still happening. ]
Oh, and it is good to see you again too, old friend.
[ The Doctor's beaming smiles gets a little soft near the end, eyes bright and a little twinkly. ]
I hope you've got some good stories to tell me, eh? I want to hear everything, especially all of the exciting bits. Actually you can leave out all the boring things, save us both a bit of time.
no subject
Not much to tell. More missions, more orbs. And this station's got a bit of fucked up history, but we all kind of saw that coming. [ just don't ask him about it.
he walks further into the kitchen, sidestepping where the doctor had retreated back to the mugs to instead take a seat at the nearest table, cigarette brought back up to his lips to take a drag. ]
More curious to hear what happened to you. You went back by choice.
[ technically, he went back too, but. there hadn't been much choice to that. ]
Did you remember anything?
no subject
[ He pauses in his preparations, mouth pressed into a thin line. He ... learned to exist in time passing as it does for every other human, learned how to be more human than he was, learned to fall in love, fell very much in love, and learned to accept that perhaps there came a time in his life to accept moving on and forward and all of that. He'd learned to make way for his next regeneration. Accepted it, even.
But he only remembers all of that now, here, because he's back. And that's the weird bit. ]
But no. The moment I went back, I forgot everything. And with one breath left ... well, I was asked to come here — again — and I thought: well, why not? Of course I only remembered everything once I woke up here again.
[ He can only attribute that to the orbs, and only now does he remember what he remembers and remembers that he'd forgotten what he should have remembered and all of that is really rather perplexing, and a little sad.
All those promises he'd made to help some of his friends here when this was all over ... he thinks of Rosinante and Law, and Newt, the former of whom he hasn't seen around yet ... ]
Don't think I'm letting you off the hook, you know. This station's been home for quite a long time, I'll want to know just how it's all gone topsy-turvy. I suppose it'll have to do with Viveca and the Commander, then?
no subject
[ and so, kovacs explains it all, how they'd returned from a mission to find themselves in the station not quite the same as it'd been when they'd left it, and the memories that some of the crew had begun to witness, the realization of all the losses with the previous crew, and degar and viveca's deal to fix it.
his cigarette is burnt out plenty by the time he's done.
but his mind keeps drifting to the doctor's words, and the loss of memory, how a choice to return ultimately doesn't feel like much of a choice at all. ]
You forgot everything. [ he repeats a bit after his own storytelling, his eyes drifting off, peering through the haze of smoke from his hand. ] Everything we do here, everything we've given up, everyone we've — [ given up. clung to. ] There's no way to keep it all. Either we go the way of the old crew or we go back and give it all up or — or, by some miracle, all this shit works by the end of all of this, and it all changes anyway. There's no route where we keep this.
no subject
Well, I'm not so sure about that. [ No promises, of course, but things aren't always fixed to one point — and this feels different. Events can change, more outcomes can reveal themselves as they continue forward, and the very fact that he's here again is proof of some unexplainable strange force at work.
And, as they've all been told time and time again: the orbs are unpredictable. ]
You see, not all of the orbs have been collected, and perhaps what happened before might not happen this time. After all, the last time the old crew nearly gathered all of the orbs, they didn't quite complete the task before Viveca and Degar changed their regret, did they? They didn't recruit several more of us to help the last time. [ Didn't really have a chance to either, but that isn't the point. ] Already, the possibilities within this timeline are changing, which means we just don't know what might happen next.
[ He sits back, frowning in thought. ]
Besides — even if we go back to our worlds without knowledge of our memories here, that doesn't mean they didn't happen. It doesn't mean that all of this loses any of its importance, eh? We never really forget.
no subject
but even with the way he can come to respect his optimism, it's not always contagious. ]
Except we do forget. [ there's a bit more strain to his voice now, some of the calm losing out to a bit of tension carried in his shoulders. ] Even if we succeed and the events still count towards the timeline, even if our bodies retain the memory that our brains don't, we don't get —
[ he cuts himself off from a sharper frustration, fingers pinching a bit harder at the shortened cigarette stub he's holding. his eyes turn away, going quiet to take a moment to relax his voice again, softer when he continues. ]
I don't want to go back without her. [ he finally admits, raising his eyes to the doctor. all this time it's been on his mind, left unsaid, even to the subject in question. the doctor returns and kovacs feels that familiar itch of confessing all of his secrets to him. ] The life I've built with her here — with Marta — if we finish this, it all goes away. I can't keep it, any of it.