Turning The Pages (Open? I'm new... XD)

(So I'd prefer only a few people join, since I'm new and not too good at group RPs... Thank you. )

The night air was curtained by thick, black velvet waves of frigid rain. Not a thread of the moon's watery beams seeped through the impenetrable mass of dark grey clouds, though it was occasionally cut through by a blink-of-the-eye, white-hot whip of energy. Wind howled through the dismally empty streets, and they were, in turn, dismally lit by watery little yellow pockets of iron street lamp light.

Among the bleak, void shadows of homes and businesses, only one building was lit by a warm circle of candle light.

The light revealed the silhouette of a stack of books, resembling more the leaning tower of Pisa then anything else, a hand turning a page, the partial shape of a head stooped over a book.

Though it didn't reveal many other things.

Such as the discarded books next to a cloth cushioned chair, attempted to be stacked neatly, though in a hurry to move on to the next- Toppled, and scattered, and in such a disarray it looked like a sea of dusty spines, no two the same. The only thing they had in common, was that they all detailed the history of man within its pages, from the year 1900 to now... Valuable ink, valuable knowledge.

Or so could be gleaned from the glittering jade eyes, scanning their pages in the oh so vague light. Perfectly human.

And yet they danced with a few centuries worth of curiosity, mischief, and a good ounce of shrewdry.

A book on the Civil War, for a bit of variety in her reads, was added to the discard pile.

Yet in the vaguest whisper of a sound, Patricia thought she heard a voice.

But who on the legitimate earth simply says "Delete"?

Thus she turned the page of the next book in a seemingly endless game of catch up.

Quincy quietly climbed in through the slightly ajar window. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be here, not really caring if he wasn't. He wasn't supposed to be doing what he was here to do so I guess it didn't make much of a difference.

In his year of traveling Quincy had acquired quite the taste for reading, and was in constant need of material. So, every once in a while he made trips to libraries, where he would illegitimately check out books with no intention of returning them.

Sorting through the books he tried to find some that interested him. A engine manual here, an adventure novel there, placing each carifully into his satchel as if they were priceless artifacts. Once he had found an adequate amount of reading material he turned to leave through the window when he noticed a girl. Wide eyed he thought "How did I miss her, I'm a professional thief!" Preparing to leave cautiously.

However before he could leave he noticed something odd about her, something unique, that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Whatever it was he liked it. He began daydreaming before being awoken by a voice unlike any he's heard before. It spoke "Delete." A steel figure began making it's way towards the young woman. Quincy's mind began racing. "I should go get in my ship and get a decent distance away from whatever's aboyt to happen." But in a moment of brazen stupidity, which was not uncommon for him, he did the opposite.

The creature now about a yard away from the girl he charged the metallic beast, crashing his body into it.

Admist the torrents of rain, another light appeared, smaller and more otherworldly than that of the library; a black, rectangular vessel, headed by glowing green doors materialized on the green next to the library, just out of reach of said building's light.

Theta Sigma, arms laden with math books opened the doors of his TARDIS, spluttering at the sudden rain in his face, thinking for a moment he must have landed underwater. He squinted, turning his face towards the library's light.

"Couldn't have landed me here a day earlier..." despite his frustration, the young alien forged forward through the rain, protecting the library books from the rain with his jacket, which was slowly getting soaked much like the auburn mop that was now his hair.

Blue-grey eyes widened as he leaned against the door and went in, revealing the view of a young man ramming himself into the silver chest of a cyber man. Theta dropped his books in surprise, "Bludie ell!" slipping out of his mouth in shock. He rocked forwards then back, unsure what to do; after a second he picked up the biggest book he dropped, a lengthy book on Trigonometry, chucking it at the cymberman; it clunked off of it's head loudly, though it had few visible effects other than that.

Seconds after making contact with the machine Quincy knew it was a bad idea. His left shoulder was in quite a lot of pain and possibly damaged. Out of nowhere came a book making a landing sound against the creatures head. The creature was distracted just long enough for Quincy to, more carefully this time, slam into the creature so that it hit the ground.

Haphazardly slinging his gun out, on account of his shoulder, with his left hand and pointing it into one of the eye holes he pulled the trigger twice.

After a count of three with the monster still he rolled off it onto his back and began holding his shoulder and writhing a bit in pain. "That's what I get for trying to be the hero." He half mumbled, half yelled, not really being able to control his volume at this point.

In the midst of his writhing Quincy laid his eyes upon a man, presumably the book thrower, standing by the door. A large pile of books lying at his feet.

Ah, what was the correct word for these current occurrences? Anarchy, no not quite. Horror? Maybe. Perhaps chaos was the best term of all. Patricia pinched the bridge of her nose, glancing first towards the two men, then the metallic... [i]thing/i] that they were fighting. Whatever it was, it was quite obviously not friendly.

"Heroes die young; good material that book there. Nice to meet you both," She gave a flustered salute to each, kicking the chair back into the metal man. "I don't believe that these are the best conditions to say so, but lovely weather we're having eh? Name's Patricia, but my friends call me Peter." The robot made the most mechanical of utterances, almost like a groan of pain, before staggering towards them again. "Okay, need your name, your name, not him, and then we might should get out of here."

"Delete" The thing made a shuffling grab at her, to which she threw a dictionary at it.

"I said I didn't want your name!" Patricia rolled her eyes, walking around the opposite end of the table. To a response, the catch phrase was monotonously echoed down the rows of books. "Knowledge is a metaphorical weapon, not a real one..." She hit it over the head with the nearest chair, and walked past the two men: Different species? It'd appear so. Maybe human, maybe not, but for now she'd simply make their acquaintance. "So, anyone wanna tell me what these are or do I have to go straight to the source?"

The robots were shuffling down the aisles in earnest.

The Archer examined the readings he got from his on-flight scanners. "That should do. Far from his home, not too far from planets who can keep a watch over him. Seems to be deserted. Not bad." After a rough regeneration and a not-so-pleasant encounter with a man of metal - a Cyberman - The Archer was attempting to take it to a place where it could remain without alarming anyone else. For the Cybermen had grown much stronger since their last encounter with the lonely Timelord and The Archer could take no chances. "Mars, that should do it. No one set to colonize it for about 100 years I think? Is that round about right? Yeah, must be." He took off the brakes and with a rather large bang the ship seemed to jolt. "You getting a bit rusty?" He asked his starship, but another alarming thud suggested otherwise. "That's not you, is it? Senis, scan for any movement on the ship." The result was not surprising, it was the aforementioned Cyberman, stationed at the air locks. "Oh for Christ sake." The Archer dashed over the controls and out of the room, rushing to the air locks but stopping at a sealed door, he peered through the glass and saw that the next room had been jettisoned. The Cyberman was leaving for Earth.

"No! No! No! Senis, after it!" The ship slowly lowered to Earth. Too slow by the Archer's standards. "Hurry up! Who knows where it'll go?!" After landing, the Archer, the man responsible for this half-alien, half-robot life form, leaped out of the hanger and searched the dimly-lit street, not enjoying the bitter wind or the sharp rain. He heard only one word; "Delete." and set chase for the creature.

"So, anyone wanna tell me what these are or do I have to go straight to the source?" A female voice spoke softly and calmly, to which the Archer blasted through the walls of the building with a device which he had not yet named and jumped in.

"Oh, is this a library? Oh, I'm so sorry about the books. I'll re-write them or something, I swear. Anyway, did you say something about the Cyberman? Basically all you need to know is that the best course of action right now is... Well... Run."

"Balderdash and poppycock. That's got to be the worse explanation I've ever-" Patricia, about to begin a tirade, paused as the telltale thumping of quite a few unpleasant metal-heads, and bit back the finishing. "On second thought I'll accept that for now." Shaking her head, and hiding any telltale weakness through the clenching and unclenching of her fists, she hopped out the hole in the wall that the new man had made. "Ya know you owe them about twenty books and a wall... And anyways, who are you? Any of you really, its not really in my practice to be left in the Dark- Ages or otherwise. I'll say it again, but I'm Patricia."

In the back of her mind, more thoughts danced around then the trail of sparkles left from a pixie's dust when in flight- Or so she'd been told. There was something about these "Cyber Men" that made her finger's twitch when she didn't want them to, a bad sign that her even the sentient nanites inside of her uneasy. A low hum escaped Patricia's lips, not of her own free will, and she scowled in frustration, putting a hand to her chin.

"What in the seven hells is going on here...." With that last thought, she looked back up to the three. "And what do you have to do with this?" Patricia vocalized, tapping a foot. Maybe this newcomer had said to run, but without a proper explanation she'd have no part in that.

Besides, she had a good thirty seconds. They were pretty slow.

Theta gave a smile and an acknowledging nod to Peter, barely getting a word in before the wall beside them blasted apart, causing said Timelord to jump in startlement. He stared blankly at the man that appeared, and sighed, a little annoyed at the over dramatic entrance and disregard some people had for walls.

"Running? That's the best you've got? No offence but that's rubbish" Theta followed after the others through the wall, though his pace was rather leisurely and un-worried in comparison "They're robots, and it's raining. Well, part robots anyways. All we gotta do is open up some of their more important circuits and boom! Crispy fried... uh, cybermen" he turned to Patricia, attempting to usher her away from the building a bit "I'm Theta, by the way, nice to meet you. Cybermen are basically the borg from star trek, just slower and more dumb. Have you ever seen that show? It's good. Anyways, popping open these tin cans; most of the important stuff is in the round chest piece thing, so if you've got any ideas on how to open that...?"

"Oh yeah, hello. I'm The Archer, a Timelord. I'm assuming by your general lax response to the situation you're not from around here or at least you've experienced things that aren't usual to this planet." The Archer looked upon this new crowd of people that he had no doubt he would be associated with for some time and took a single breath to help him through the unforgivable amount of explaining he now had to do; "Hello I'm The Archer, I've said that. I'll pay for the books or go back in time and get them again or something, don't worry. I think I owe them a few more than 20 books I mean look at you lot you're a bit bigger than 20 books. I'm so sorry for the very rushed plan, although the running seems to have done us proud so far, good bit of running never hurt no one. Did it? It also gave me the time to actually tell you about what's going on. That was a Cyberman and I absolutely resent the implication that these things can be taken down with a simple scramble of its circuitry. I don't know exactly what time frame it is from but if it comes down to the worst, that is a very modern Cyberman who can upgrade itself in an instant to stop itself from being destroyed and I don't know how many of them there are. So yes, that might work for a little bit but it isn't really the best long-term plan. Any questions?" With a cheeky, almost carefree, instantly regretted wink, The Archer looked to his new-found acquaintances.

Theta listened through the Archers speech, raising an eyebrow at the Timelord part (for an almost extinct species they seemed to pop up often), but otherwise unimpressed. For his part, he'd never come into contact with any 'new' cybermen, but he'd seen his fair share; logic told him that in all designs, the emotional inhibitor was located in the chest, and if that was shorted out the cyberman would go crazy (a sad, but necessary, experience. Sometimes they recovered, though, which was a little light in the dark deed).

A few questions burned at the front of the Timelord's mind (how'd you escape the Time War, how come I've never seen you before, Why on earth did you think that wink was a good idea?) but he kept silent, only crossing his arms and giving the Archer a searching look. It was best not to draw too much attention to himself anyways; all the Timelords he'd met, with the exception of Sonya and the Doctor, seemed a little loco in the cocoa.

...well, maybe those other two were a little crazy, as well.

How come it could never just be a plain day in the lab? There he was, about five miles away from London. He was working on a new chemical formation for cancer. There had to be something science was missing, cancer was beatable, he knew it. He was going to find the cure even if it killed him, and the more time he spent in the lab the closer he was to that.

"Delete"

Jasper turned, assuming it was just a co-worker playing a stupid joke on him or something. What he didn't expect was a seven foot metal machine to be looking down on him. The machine moved forward and instantly Jasper ducked under it's arm, breaking for the door.

"Delete"
"Delete"
"You shall be deleated"

Drat, more of them out in the corridors. He watched as his friends all fell around the room. He needed to get the phone in reception, he could call the police or help or somethin..

"Delete the human"

The metal man, right where Jasper needed to go. He ditched the idea of the phone and watched as the metal men followed him out of the front doors. He skidded around a corner, unlocking his car doors and sliding into the seat.

"Dele..."

The door caught the metal man right in the face. Jasper wasn't sure if it shorted the brain or what, all he knew was he needed to move. London was close, he could be there in twenty minutes traffic permitting.

He hit the moterway fine, and within twenty minutes was in London. The metal men seemed none existant, he noted that as he drove past. He didn't stop until he reached the library. It was public and had public phones, he needed to get some help.

He slid from the Chevy, breaking into a sprint towards the library. He bust through the double sliding doors, eying the receptionist. He nodded to her before speaking.

"Look love, could I use your phone?"