the clock tower

[groundrules]

Happy Hallow-elevator! The clock tower event lasts between 22 October and 8 November. ICly, the tower incursion stretches around a week, and you’re welcome to have your character investigate something else, if they finish early!

THE CLOCK TOWER

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ALL IS AS ALL WAS| TRIAL & NO ERRORS | THE TOWER

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ALL IS AS ALL WAS

Play it cool, as Serthica’s customs officers pore over your passport papers, before grudgingly allowing you overground. Minaras, you hear, is hunting a delinquent.

Both it and Eidris fare well, with no sign of the damage that preceded the Unwinding. Locals no longer behave eerily, dragons and clockwork droids roam freely, and everyone hates taxes.

Yet perfect strangers insist they know you. Your assigned address leads to a different house. The roads, buildings and architecture look ‘lived in,’ but changed.

No one remembers the Unwinding.

■ Burlap mannequins sometimes watch from mirrors, windows and reflecting surfaces.

■ You might hear shifting and scratching in Eidris walls.

■ Minaras has doubled its bounty for a man not unlike Leonard McCoy.

■ Black fungal spores are found on the increasingly voluminous experiment vials, specimens and supplies thrown out by Minaras medical facilities.

■ Frail and confused, Ellethia survivor Zenobius finally awakens. A short thread is up for RNG grabs.

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TRIALS & NO ERRORS

The guard troops that Eidris and Minaras assign to the Neutral Zone now protect King Thivar and High Councillor Arabella during the annual Sanctuary Reckoning trials. Both adjudicate cases that violate the ceasefire.

Prolonging the trials buys time for your companions in the clock tower.

■ Create a distraction — flood the judgement hall rooms? Fire? Illusions?

■ Pose as trial participants: perhaps you are of Eidris, and you caught this wicked Minaraian raiding your home? Mayhap this wretched man of Eidris stole your girlfriend? Wait, you’re a Minaraian who wants to kill King Thivar?

■ …organise breakouts, if Thivar or Arabella have your jailed. You are first imprisoned in makeshift Sanctuary cells — all but poorly locked, glorified closets. Get a trial sentence!

■ Thivar and Arabella treat the trials as a box-ticking exercise.

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THE TOWER

As Eidris and Minaras play court, you can infiltrate the Neutral Zone clock tower of Vassarizhia.

■ Only token security remains. The door is unlocked.

■ Karsa supplies paper talismans that must be burned in the watch fire at the tower’s top level.

■ Each burned talisman amplifies the reveal spell that Karsa activates. Link a finished burning thread by 8 November to help the cause.

■ A November mod post will describe how much of Serthica’s ‘undeath’ characters can see.

■ Placing Magnus’ dragon eye before the tower’s telescope will allow characters to always see Serthica’s undeath, moving forward.

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✘ ELEVATOR ETIQUETTE

Imperfect stillness dominates Vassarizhia: your footsteps do not click, words die in your mouth. The tower’s rickety gear slither silently. Your heartbeat aligns with the clock’s tick… tock.
You have the growing, gnarly certainty that you have invaded something ancient and alive.

The tower’s entryway level is large, deserted, stacked with gears. At its core is a dilapidated open elevator shaft.

A large sign says to find and pull the floor lever, if elevators stop.

■ There are two elevators. Each narrow lift can hold up to four people, crammed. The upper half of the carriage is chain-link fence, while the floors contain hatches that sometimes open mid-travel for 30 seconds. Hold on to ceiling-bound leather straps.

■ The ropes holding the elevators are thick, but tattered.

■ The elevator’s creaking squeals can awaken swarms of 1m-tall bats and bat wyverns. They rattle the lift, but ultimately withdraw.

■ The elevator can stop at as many levels as you want (or none!).

■ Beyond the second level, you feel intensely paranoid and see your companions as the persons you most hate/fear for five to 10 minutes. Reaching the top, you are tempted to cut the lift ropes of those who follow. (The ropes and elevators recover, after crashing to the bottom. )

■ On each floor, as you exit the elevator, a nearby wall shows a different scratched instruction, signed by DAVID.

LEVEL I: THE LABYRINTH| LEVEL II: THE ANCESTOR | LEVEL III: TAG! YOU’RE IT
LEVEL IV: THE ROOM WHERE NOTHING HAPPENS | LEVEL V: IT’S RAINING (AGAIN)

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LEVEL I: THE LABYRINTH
CONTENT WARNING: MINOTAUR, BODY HORROR

Step into a jail maze, flooded to knee level. Confusing corridors narrow, widen and contort, while wall torches dim.

Intermittent howling reveals you’re not alone. Hiding, you see child-like chalk drawings of forest animals on walls — and a great minotaur. Keep silent.

■ David S P’s wall scrawl says, IT RUNS IN THE FAMILY.

■ Collect some of the many discarded daggers or axes. Rope bundles float in water — use them to paralyse your captive or briefly force them under your control.

■ Don’t linger in one place: rotting, bodiless hands surface to restrain you.

■ Bad news, if you swallow water when the minotaur or dead hands try to drown you: your skin stretches and bursts, while your bones pop and extend. You mutate into a half human, half woodland creature, all bloodlust. ( Inspiration, anyone? ) Your companions should still recognise you; between hazy memories and constant pain, you might struggle to remember them and even attack.

■ Morphed characters can (painfully) return to normal within minutes of re-entering the elevator.

■ A smaller and distressed three-headed minotaur also roams the labyrinth. Two of its heads sob, while the third urges you to hide with it when brother approaches. It tries to throttle you with a noose to make brother happy, if you follow. David did say.

■ The minotaur and its sibling have poor sight. They cannot enter a corridor where you’ve drawn or laid down a line.

■ Pull the lever, and a straight corridor leads you to the elevator.

TOP | LEVEL II | LEVEL III | LEVEL IV | LEVEL V

LEVEL II: THE ANCESTOR
CONTENT WARNING: GIANT SKELETON, BLOOD DRINKING

Here, only barren stone and thin rivulets of fresh water pouring from wall fountains with sharp-tipped ornaments — your spilled blood quickly infects the basins. Knives, pins and bowls have been abandoned nearby.

High pressure and vertigo overwhelm you. Follow a rhythmic heaving to where the upper half of an enormous skeleton — the Ancestor — has broken through a wall. White, silk thread fetters it. Dried blood rims its cracked mouth. Before it, the stone floor has been tarnished, up to a 5m radius.

The Ancestor appears dormant, a crown of iron thorns on its head. It clutches the lever tightly in its right hand. Above it, an engraving urges, SPILL WINE FOR YOUR ANCESTOR.

■ David S P’s elevator scrawl says, WATER TO WINE.

■ Dally staring and you feel dizzy, nauseous, depressed and compelled to share your close-death encounters. Before you know it, you are stepping into the Ancestor’s radius…

■ …where it plunges for you, if you don’t bear a filled cup. The silk ropes keep the Ancestor from reaching beyond 5m.

■ Two carvings under his fists read HONOUR THY FATHER and DISHONOUR THY MOTHER.

■ Quickly distract the Ancestor from crumbling his captives, tearing their arms or attempting to eat them.

■ The Ancestor is instinct-driven, consumed by thirst. It cannot see or smell, and only remembers taste. Sounds divert it.

■ Improvise: there is no actual wine here. Infuse water, spill blood, or vocally pretend you are delivering wine, and the Ancestor might spare you.

■ If sated, the Ancestor releases the lever.

TOP | LEVEL I | LEVEL III | LEVEL IV | LEVEL V

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LEVEL III: TAG! YOU’RE IT
CONTENT WARNING: SCARECROW, SKINNED CREATURES

Enjoy pitch dark, dread and bile spreading in your gut. Take a candle from near the elevator and roam through small, unlocked rooms that feature tattered beds, strips of tanning leather and blood or wax spilled on the floor.

■ David S P’s wall scrawl says, O CATCHES IT.

■ Ahead, you see candle-bearing mannequins that dance a hora to the same song played by Jim Kirk’s music box: “Up the mountain, in the grove, hand in hand to Ke-Waihu, fresh harvest’s a treasure trove, each fall we feast anew.”

■ The creatures are patched abominations of wax, skinned flesh and burlap. In the middle of the hora is a wiry scarecrow, eyes blazing with candle fire as it points a large cleaver. In certain lights, the scarecrow’s face briefly contorts into that of your mother. It wears priestly robes that Arc III survivors may recognise from the House of Ravens.

■ As the dance finishes, you notice the lever in the middle of the circle, where flame spells out TAKE THEM, NOT ME. The game begins.

■ The abominations run, gleefully manic and screaming TAAAA~AAAAAG. YOU’RE IT! The scarecrow unflinchingly cuts them down while pursuing you. Hide in the abandoned rooms, or risk snuffing your candle to avoid detection.

■ Some abominations slap you, hold you, or alert the scarecrow. Others offer shelter. A few peel off wax skins from their limbs — showing black fungi beneath. They murmur, IT NEVER GOES AWAY.

■ Parchment strips fall from the scarecrow’s sleeves, reading, HAPPY NAME DAY, MOTHER KNOWS BEST, THE SIN RAN DEEPER THAN SKIN, IF YOU CAN BEAR IT, IT’S A GAME.

■ Bless David: draw the scarecrow into a drawn or makeshift circle to trap it.

■ Intense, paralysing fear arrests you, if the scarecrow catches you. The wax abominations chant, TAKE THEM, NOT ME. One might even take pity and move your numbed mouth to utter the words. Say them — and the scarecrow lands deep cuts on your arms, then pursues your companion.

■ If you betray someone, the abominations take the appearance of your worst version: whether physically mutated, with a temper that amplifies your worst features, or both.

TOP | LEVEL I | LEVEL II | LEVEL IV | LEVEL V

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LEVEL IV: THE ROOM WHERE NOTHING HAPPENS
CONTENT WARNING: MANIPULATION, MENTAL COERCION

You enter a quiet room. The lever sits on a table, beside rope and a dagger. As you approach, your surroundings transform: perhaps your dearest dead appear to warmly welcome you. Crowds of your doubters celebrate your success. Or you are in a calm oasis, where nothing hurts.

■ David S P’s wall scrawl says, THIS DREAM IS A NIGHTMARE.

■ Whatever your deepest wishes, the room’s vivid illusions provide. With time, your beautiful dreams deteriorate into horror. Sometimes, you hear whispers of, Make a wish.

■ The room increasingly drains your life force. Within half an hour, you have gaunt flesh, brittle bones and a hunched back. Or you might feel compelled to harm yourself, clawing your arms and face, or pulling your hair out.

■ The damage comes undone minutes after reaching the elevator.

■ The room focuses on one person: if someone joins you, they see fainter echoes of what the room shows you, but they are not enthralled. They must coax or drag you away.

■ If you are under the room’s influence, it forces you to make any later intruders stay.

TOP | LEVEL I | LEVEL II | LEVEL III | LEVEL V

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LEVEL V: IT’S RAINING (AGAIN)
CONTENT WARNING: PLAGUE, THE CHILD

At the tower’s open-sky top, fire crackles from a small stone pit, shielded by a familiar, immovable blood-spattered white umbrella. Nearby, discover an immense rusted telescope and other discarded astronomy tools.

You trip on rain-battered yellowed bones at every step. One skeletal hand holds a watch piece, engraved for Mr. David Sebastian Pumpkins.

■ David S P’s has only scrawled his signature.

■ You might reach the flame easily, or be overwhelmed by sickness, black fungal spores blooming on your fingers, while you cough blood and experience intense fever. The symptoms wane once you reach the fire.

■ Burn paper talismans and link finished threads to help Karsa’s spell.

■ The child with a fox mask from the Unwinding could appear. Sign up for one of three short threads, which must finalise by 3 November.

NOTES

■ Some of the bigger plot clues have been emphasised, to help navigate through the horror details.

■ You can hit up some NPCs during the trials.

■ Check out plotting posts for last-minute team-ups.

■ Back to the top.

QUESTIONS

Comments

[makemeasong]

[ Clara's first instinct is to launch herself into his arms. But what if he's the scarecrow? She doesn't say anything at all, she can't see where he is, but she can hear him, coming closer. It isn't until no attack comes that she fully believes he's really him, and her legs very nearly give out the minute he pulls her close.

She doesn't consider herself easily frightened or prone to tears (the last emotional few days notwithstanding), but she's terrified now and clings to him. Her arms are slick with blood and feel like they're on fire from the cuts; she sags against him, a few tears falling in sheer relief, voice shaking. ]

I can't get out, I can't get to the lever. Every time I try it's there.

[thedreamer]

[ His lips press to her forehead instinctively, a measure of comfort, trying to anchor her before the panic completely overtakes her. He may be worried himself - increasingly so, now that he can feel and see the blood on her arms - but they can't make it out of here if reason gives way to the madness this level is clearly trying to induce.

He keeps her steady against him for a moment, one hand cradling the back of her head. When he speaks, despite not having all the answers yet, he sounds calm and sure of himself. ]

Clara - you and me, eh? What can't we do together?

[makemeasong]

[ Clara takes a few deep breaths, listening to his heartbeats, letting them bring her back to knowing she's safe with him. For right now, he has her and she's safe. ]

It's always been us.

[ He's right, and she wets her lips, closing her eyes for three seconds before looking up at him in the dark, unable to see his features. They can do this, together, and for now she believes that fully. ]

[thedreamer]

[ Satisfied that she seems safe and calmer, he pulls back from her now, reaching for her arms and trying to examine them closer, his touch light and careful, but inquisitive as he examines her. She's injured, and he doesn't have much of use at the moment to fix it, but takes some of the yarn from his coat pockets, bundling it up and using that as some sort of makeshift gauze. ]

What did you see when you looked at the scarecrow? What face did it have?

[ It's a way to distract her and, of course, to learn more about the mind games they're dealing with here. ]

[makemeasong]

[ Having the Doctor with her has its own immediate calming effect, and Clara swallows, closing her eyes since she can't see anyway while he tries to clean her up. Somewhere in the file of her mind, she remembers his hearing, his vision, all much better than a human's.

At his question, her chin trembles a little but she tries to hide the wobbliness of her voice. She fails. ]

My mum. I saw my mum.

[thedreamer]

[ Reaching out, just purely on instinct, he briefly cradles her cheek in his hand, lips pressing to her forehead. He was equally unsettled by the sight of his own mother, so long ago lost to him that her face was a jarring surprise, particularly and grotesquely distorted both by the shape of the scarecrow itself and the way the shadows played on its features. Being chased by it certainly didn’t help matters. Though, he won’t talk about what he saw and he focuses just on Clara. ]

We’re safe here for just a moment so I need you to listen to me. I don’t know what we’ll see when we go back out there again, Clara, but whatever it is, it isn’t real. You’re not going to let that creature distort your last image of her. What you saw wasn’t her, not your perfect mum, so proud of you. She’s still safe with you, your last memory of her. And we’re going to get out of here, promise.

[makemeasong]

[ Taking a deep breath, Clara looks up him with fingers clinging to his arms as he speaks to her. He's real, the Doctor is right here, solid and safe. They're going to get out and they'll be back in Eidris soon. She tucks the memory of her mum back into the file cabinet of her mind and focuses, forcing her fear down. ]

Then we need a plan, Doctor. I don't want to say one of us should be a distraction, but I think that's the only way.

[ Her voice is as soft as it can be so she doesn't give them away, but she hears the sound of a blade scraping against the wall, the noise still far off but coming closer. It's time for her to be brave. ]

[thedreamer]

[ She's right, of course, they'll need to come at this from both sides. He's reluctant to separate, believing their best chance is to tackle this together, but they'll have to lure the scarecrow into a circle. She's trying to be brave and he's proud of her, but there's only one scenario he'll accept. ]

I'll lead the scarecrow away. [ His first, immediate response. ] Take one of the candles, run the opposite direction, use the candle wax to make a circle, and I'll lead that thing back towards it. It's the only way to trap it.

[makemeasong]

[ Clara nods at him and takes another deep breath, letting it out slowly. She feels like she should say something to him, but he's from so far away, it won't make sense. They don't have the luxury of time for her to sort out anything else. Instead, she throws her arms around him tightly in a hug, squeezing her eyes shut. ]

Don't die, do you understand me? If you die again on me, I'll never forgive you.

[ She thinks she means that, too. She's met people she's already so fond of, but he's the person she needs most. ]

[thedreamer]

[ He catches her up in a hug easily, pressing his face up close to her shoulder for a moment. It's with his arms around her now that he can feel her trembling. So brave, she is, this Clara Oswald. Brave in spite of everything. They're going to run out into the dark again with that absolutely deranged creature chasing after them, bearing the face of their dead mothers, respectively, and she's going to do it. She's not backing down, and she's trusting him. He can't disappointed her, he won't. Clara Oswald, with her big, scared eyes and her determination, ready to run into the shadows, but trembling in his arms.

Sometimes he's not the best at being aware of these things, but he notices it now; now, of all times, with a dreadful banging on the door. So he keeps her close for a moment longer, resting a hand on the back of her head. ]

Oh, me? I always come back.

[ He pulls back now, giving her a little smile in the dark, gently tugging at her cheek for good measure. ]

Promise me the same. Right now.

[makemeasong]

[ A choked out huff makes it out of her, tears cut off at the knees. He didn't promise. But she will, for him, because that's what they do (or rather, she does, and he doesn't). ]

I promise, Doctor.

[ There's no more time to waste and Clara takes another deep breath as she steps back and toward the danger. She whispers under her breath just before the Doctor opens the door. ]

Let me be brave.

[ And then, the door is open and the Doctor is doing exactly what he said, leading the monster away. She can't let him down, Clara won't, and she runs for the next candle her eyes lock onto. She can hear the demented noises of the scarecrow and all that matters is making the circle—more than one if she can help it—to trap it. Clara manages one full circle and half of a second before a hand grabs at her; skin sloughs off of its forearm against her neck, wet and clinging to her, making her scream and drop the candle. It goes out, plunging her into darkness once more, her eyes searching for a flicker. ]

[thedreamer]

[ Good girl, Clara Oswald. Good and brave and strong Clara Oswald. For the second time in less than a minute, he's proud of her. There's a level of trust here between them that must exist in both directions. It's necessary and vital, otherwise this wouldn't work at all. He knows that Clara trusts him, but it's been a slower process on his end. She came back for him on Akhaten, though, and here, he'll see if she holds up her end.

Truly, though, even if she didn't, he wouldn't care nearly as much as he does about keeping her safe. He's made a promise to get her out of here and he will, so help him. ]

Come along, dear, beautiful, dreadful thing! [ He calls to the scarecrow, leading it down a winding hallway, dodging more of the twisted and disfigured creatures as he does. He ends up in a corner, the scarecrow slashing across his arm, but he ducks and rolls before he's injured any further. He hears the taunting from the creatures, the urge to say the words, Take them, not me.

No. No. Absolutely not.

A surge of anger and protectiveness wells up in him. No, they can do whatever they like with him, but they'll stay far away from Clara. He starts running again, back towards Clara. It's gone dark, but he can still see her up ahead and he runs as fast as he can towards her, the scarecrow nearly breathing down his neck. ]

[makemeasong]

[ It wouldn't occur to Clara for a second to say the words, she wants to believe she could stand up to anything if it meant protecting the Doctor. She doesn't want to test her beliefs, and when she manages to free herself she calls out. ]

There's a circle, Doctor!

[ She can hear them coming closer, can almost feel the vibration under her feet of the scarecrow's thundering steps. It isn't big, but somehow its presence is everywhere. When she spots a flickering light, she runs toward it, needing another candle in case the circle she made isn't enough to do the job for any reason. And if the scarecrow somehow grabs the Doctor, she's going to set it on fire. ]

[thedreamer]

[ Of course there would be. Never doubt her, not her. She's more than proven that, and he'll do whatever it takes, always, to keep her safe. He can feel the scarecrow over his shoulder, coming closer and closer, the monstrous entity almost seeming to grow in size as it looms nearer to him. The Doctor can feel his hearts pounding heavily in his chest and he can't help thinking it's exhilarating at the same time it's terrifying. Then again, he's always had a bit of a strange perspective on danger; by his very nature and what he does, he has to. ]

Stay back, Clara!

[ Just a few more paces ahead and, at last, the scarecrow is led right into the trap, caught in the circle. One last lunge and the Doctor is cut on his cheek, but it's not even deep enough for stitches, and he quickly ducks and rolls. Probably didn't have to roll quite so dramatically, but he does love a good show sometimes, he can't help himself. ]

Clara!

[makemeasong]

[ Clara has the torch in hand, wild-eyed as she watches the Doctor roll out of the way just as the scarecrow gets caught in the trap. It's a terrifying moment and she closes her eyes, wanting to collapse and breathe, but it feels like there's no time. She'd fuss over him, but he'll insist there's no time for that, either. That's why she's learned it's better to focus now and fuss when they're safe.

Usually, that's onboard the TARDIS. She has no idea where the hell 'safe' is now. ]

What if other people get trapped up here with this thing, what if it gets loose?

[ Looking at her torch, Clara turns it in her hand as the flames flicker and the beast makes sounds of sheer venom, reaching for them both. ]

Do you think there's any good to be had here? Is it even real?

[thedreamer]

[ It doesn't occur to him to think about himself or worry at what's happened. He doesn't even realize there's a cut to his cheek, it hardly matters. Standing beside her now, he takes her hand, lacing their fingers together. ]

It's trapped here, whatever it is, and it won't hurt anyone else.

[ He honestly has no idea for certain, but he's seen the way this world manipulates people, the way forces beyond his comprehension have artificially animated and twisted things like dolls and mannequins. There's no telling what this scarecrow really is, and he's reluctant to go about destroying it. It may have been similarly manipulated, after all. Trapped in a circle, he has to believe it won't harm anyone else. ]

We have to go, Clara. Back to the lever, come along.

[makemeasong]

[ The Doctor is the only reason she doesn't set the terror on fire and instead rushes to the lever, pulling and then watching the doors open. Once they've both stepped into the lift, she tosses the torch into the room, leaving it for whoever's unlucky enough to need light next. Looking at the neon green yarn around her arms, Clara presses her lips together in diluted amusement before her gaze lifts to the Doctor. ]

This is all you had in your pockets?

[ Normally she'd laugh, but she can't find it in her. She's too anxious about what comes next when the door opens. What else is she to do but take the watch piece she's been offered by a skeleton? At the very least, it isn't trying to kill her. There's the sky and a fire, there's a telescope in the distance, and for a second, Clara begins to relax. Stepping over bones, and hearing them crunch underfoot, though, is nauseating. ]

Finally, we're at the to—

[ Before Clara can even finish that sentence, her body is overcome with heat, and she feels like she's burning. Sinking to her knees, she feels her chest tighten and she wheezes, coughing with a deep rattle. She can't seem to stop, and then blood sprays from her mouth to coat the yellowed bones in front of her. She hurts all over and can't move, can't even talk. ]

[thedreamer]

I wasn't going to patch you up with a carrot, now was I? Be reasonable.

[ ...yes, he does have a carrot still in one of his pockets. And obviously Clara should just know and understand this; the yarn was a pragmatic choice given the circumstances. As they climb through to the next level, though, he does reach out to very lightly check his handiwork, satisfied that his choice of faux gauze seems to have done what he wanted it to, for now. They both know he's not a trained medical doctor, but he can certainly manage basic first aid, so once they're out of this tower, he'll fix her up better.

He lets go of her once they reach the top level, and for just a moment, he lets himself believe they have a momentary reprieve. That was a foolish thought, he realizes quickly. He should know better by now. Every level they've faced has put them through some kind of horrifying test, seemingly worse than the one before it. Though, in his mind, he's imagining another monster they'll need to overcome, something tangible, something he can figure out. He's alarmed when it becomes quickly clear that he can't just figure this one out. His hearts begin to quicken with worry as he reaches out for her, eyes narrowed with concern as he cradles her cheek in his palm. ]

Clara-

[ No, no, no. This shouldn't be possible. The coal sick? How could it have infected her this rapidly? She was fine, she was okay. ]

No! I'm not letting you. What do you think you're doing? Getting sick - absolutely not. Ridiculous, Clara Oswald.

[ He's talking to her, but bargaining, the anger and protectiveness rapidly surging in him. She is not dying again, he won't allow it. He's cradling her face with both hands now, forcing her to look at him - the promise in his eyes - before gently tucking her head down to his shoulder, wrapping his arms around her solidly while he looks around for something, anything, anywhere to go from here. They're to burn the talismans; is it like a game, a twisted game? Burn the talisman and everything gets better? Or will it get worse? The beacon of light - he has to hope, he has to believe and trust his instinct. It's another puzzle, the most twisted one yet. They're not in search of a lever now, they need to finish what they started. ]

I'm getting you out of here, I promise.

[makemeasong]

[ Clara looks up at him, eyes shining but instead of with her usual exuberance, a dull flatness. Her lips are painted red with blood as she gasps a little, trying to take a good, deep breath. She can't, the sound of it wet in her chest. She realizes yet again, she hasn't said any of the things she should've. Being in Serthica was supposed to give her time to figure it out, what the very complicated knot of emotions in her chest are.

When a hand reaches up to wrap around his lapel, she sees the blackness on her fingers and her eyes widen in alarm. It makes sense in her mind that she's dying. They made it through the tower together, kept one another as safe as they could once they found one another. He'll live from here, she's done, and one day an echo of her will save him again. It was supposed to be over before, when she jumped into his timestream, but like the true idiot he is, he'd rescued her. Now, a possible correction. ]

Doctor, am I gonna die?

[ She needs to know, right now, because it feels like it. Her voice cracks even through the pain. ]

Will you remember me, you clever boy?

[thedreamer]

[ His instinct is to lie, it's on the tip of his tongue. A lie to reassure and comfort, if nothing else, because she is, in fact, dying. He still believes, though, that he can stop it if he can get her to that beacon of a fire. There has to be something about it, for as difficult as it is getting there. Walking through all these skulls littering the ground won't be easy, certainly not for Clara and not even for him. It's pouring rain down on them, and Clara is dying in front of him.

If the fire does nothing at all, neither of them will be worse off than they are now, because it ends the same way for the Doctor, regardless: Clara dies. Again. Why??? He wants to roar and shout it, to no one, to everyone. Why does she have to keep dying, why does he have to watch it every time? Why do so many die and he can't fix it?

He can't hide the worry on his face, but he betrays nothing else. Kissing her forehead and smoothing her rain-soaked hair back from her eyes, the Doctor smiles and wordlessly moves to lift her up into his arms, carrying her now. ]

Oh, I remember everything. You know me. [ Said with such ease. ]

I'll tell you a story. [ This, evidently, is how he's going to answer her question, Doctor, am I gonna die?

He's breaking a rule, a very big rule, but if he's wrong and this is their last moment, he needs her to know how important she is, what she's meant to him already, even if he doesn't fully understand who she is and why he keeps finding her. ]

I traveled about for a very long time, all across the universe, across time. Sometimes people needed help and I didn't walk away. [ The saver of worlds; he doesn't like calling himself that, he doesn't like making a big deal out of what he's done. It's nothing, really, nothing at all. For all his bluster and ego on the surface, he never really thinks he deserves the praise. ]

And then it was too much, I lost too much. I was done, with all of it. Retired; I wanted a simple, quiet, lonely life in a cloud, where I couldn't possibly lose anyone else. And there you were, Clara Oswald, the governess who wouldn't leave me alone, who insisted I help. Drove me mad, even more because I knew you were right. Ridiculous, like you always have been. But you followed me into that cloud, Clara, and you forced me back down. You saved me and I couldn't save you and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, again.

[ It won't make any sense to her, he thinks. But he's half-hoping she's delirious enough with fever not to comprehend or question much anyway. ]

Will you remember me? Clara - promise you'll remember.

[ So they can find one another again. ]

[makemeasong]

[ Clara has no idea what he's saying. She hears words: help and lost, then ridiculous and sorry. Every part of her wants to respond, no part of her can. She was born to be with him, no matter what, in every life. She wants to tell him the tower is something even he couldn't have prepared for; Serthica is beyond anything she can remember him being up against. She wants to tell him that she was sad and lost when he found her, and then she started to live again with him, happier than she'd been since her mum died. None of that comes out, though. But she does hear his question.

She can't tell how long has passed by the time she can give him an answer. Finally, she tries, each word its own small sentence. ]

Always. Always. Doctor.

[ She'll find him, and somehow, next time, she'll know who he is, she won't waste time. She wills every part of her that's been split into ghosts across the universe to know the Doctor, to always be able to look into those sad eyes and know him.

The heat of the fire feels cool in comparison to the burning of her body, but it's how she realizes they're close. She coughs, her entire body seizing with it, blood spraying across his arm. ]

Talisman—

[ It's too much to say more, taking a deep breath that rattles in her chest. ]

[thedreamer]

[ Always. Always. Doctor.

A lie, to comfort him.

Things said between people don't always have to be true to be important and necessary.

He knows how it goes by now: Clara dies and they find each other again, but she never remembers him. It gives him hope, though, to recall that something still draws them to one another, against all the odds. It's impossible, or it should be, but that's what she's always been, his impossible girl. ]

Right, the talismans...and yours would be... [ He's not asking, just talking to himself out loud because he must, because Clara's blood is splattered across his arm and she's dying again. So, he speaks because he can't bear the quiet as she drifts away from him.

Her pocket, of course. It wouldn't be anywhere else. His hand snakes down, searching her pockets until at last he finds it, clutching it in his palm as they near the fire. ]

You know, after this, I think we've earned a day off at the very least. A day off, a quiet adventure, you baking me a soufflé, eh? What do you say? Cheese and chocolate - can you combine them? Of course you can. It's probably never been attempted before, but that's what we do, Clara, the mad and the weird and the utterly perfect.

[ He smiles because he must, though he doesn't expect an answer. Lips pressing to her forehead, he lets out a shaky breath, and finally closes the distance between them and the fire. He tosses Clara's talisman into the flames first, then his own. With that done, his hold on her tightens, his cheek pressing to hers. If she's going away now, he's going to make sure she's not alone for it, that she feels him close.

Thank you, Clara. Thank you for everything that you were to me.

He so desperately wants to be right, though, that she'll be okay now. The universe owes him this.

Please. ]

[makemeasong]

[ Nothing that the Doctor says is heard once she knows he has the talisman. It's too hard to keep her eyes open, and she doesn't want to. This isn't what she wants, but at the very least, she's with him, she isn't alone. He won't be either, after. He'll have River, and Red, and Vanessa. All the friends he's made, they're good people and they'll help him even when he says he's fine.

Clara knows this, so she lets herself go because she's tired, she just wants to sleep. As he tosses the talisman away, Clara's head tips back, one arm hanging down when she goes slack. The only respite from the grief is that once the crackling of burning begins in earnest, Clara's feverish eyes open again. They aren't as glassy, and her skin isn't quite has hot, but she's still too weak to move much behind the minuscule movement of her head.

Even while he's standing, she tries to curl herself up with her head resting against his shoulder. ]

I'm so tired, Doctor.

[ Her voice is a wisp of a thing, words mumbled. ]