The Random Group of Amazingness discussion

I know what Imma do for mah writin'. CALIX'S GALLIFREYAN JOURNALS! An' then Raelle c'n see what Calix wuz upt to when he was a chidlin. :)

Calix has no idea about this journal, as he was forced to forget about it. Vista hid it in the TARDIS, and I was thinking that Raelle found it and read it.

Calix's handwriting: Very precise and elegant.
Vista: Same as Calix's, with maybe a slight curl.
Rory: Chicken scratch.

Age eight
Today Vista and I turned eight. Mum and Dad didn’t really do anything, but that’s okay; I’d rather people not celebrate our day of birth. It makes me feel incredibly selfish.
I guess I really don’t have a point to this record, other than to prove that I actually exist, and so people don’t believe I’m a total imbecile. Today in our classes, I told the teacher that I’d learned a few English words (English is some alien language from Earth! There are 510.072 million square kilometres of total area, and 361.132 of that is water! Amazing!). I used the word “floccinaucinihipilification”, which means the estimation of a thing as worthless, and the instructor called me a knucklehead and an idiot. Then she sent me to the counsellor’s office, to see if he could help me “stop corrupting the minds of the young Time Lords with [my] insanity.”
Then Vista stood up and called the teacher a nitwit. Dear Vista. She’s the only person who understands me.
She had to come to the counsellor’s office too.

One week later.
The Minister visited our classroom today. All praise him, President of the High Council of the Time Lords. He told us that Time Lords were the “mightiest and oldest civilisation” and that we were created to rule the universe. I was passing a note to Charlotte, but when he said that, I’m afraid that I was being very rude. I stood up and told him that no one but a god had a right to rule the universe, or to own it. Time Lords must only be observers, we can never claim authority. Then he said that Time Lords were pretty much gods. I told him we weren’t, that we were despicable. Our race had nearly destroyed the peaceful Vortecians, when friendly negotiations would have been acceptable. “We had made space and time our dominion,” he said, “So we had that right.” Then, I am ashamed to admit, I called him a deceitful, loathsome tick. His face got real red, and he told me that I was retarded, and my parents ought to have thrown me into the Void upon birth. Then he slapped me across the face. I suppose that I didn’t learn my lesson, because I told that pernicious devil that I wanted him to burn in heck, without a chance to make amends in Purgatory. The ugly red of his face turned purple, and he grabbed me by the neck, forgetting that Time Lords couldn’t be hurt that way, and dragged me out of school for the most sever reprimanding an eight-year-old could ever have endured.
I am now terribly ashamed of my behaviour. The Minister said for my impudence, I would be publicly shamed, labelled as a stupid child and a liar. My parents would retain their good reputation, but my wife and children would be forever embarrassed to bear my name: if I could get married. That’s a pretty deep punishment for an eight-year-old, yeah? He’s probably just trying to scare me into being a good child.

Eight years later
Today Vista and I are sixteen. Porter is very nearly eight. It doesn’t seem like it could be so.
A week ago, the Pythia visited our school to check on the progress of all young Time Lords. It seems she believes the Minister’s statement on my stupidity. I am humiliated to confess, but I cried for days after her affirmation. Even Vista couldn’t console me. Ian now seems to be embarrassed to be seen with me.
I wish Charlotte would have ignored my birthday, but in school today, she said she had a surprise for me. It was a Gallifreyan to English dictionary! I must sound like a nerd, but I absolutely love it! Check out this word…Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
I think she rather likes me! :)

Four years later
Yes, Charlotte and I were married mere weeks ago! And she is already pregnant! Vista keeps teasing us, asking if it was really too hard to wait. Porter, twelve-year-old Porter, is always at the house Charlotte and I live in, bothering us. I think that our mother and father have sent him, probably embarrassed at how soon Char and I…
Now that I am out of my teenage years (for about two months now), I guess I will reflect on my childhood.
-Ian was ten when Vista and I were born.
-I was born with dyslexia, two left feet, a poor judgment of depth, and the plague of clumsiness.
-I have been avoided for twenty years because I was labelled as retarded, handicapped, the stupid son of Saren and Kress, the Beautiful Idiot, and the Minister’s Nuisance.
-After nearly twenty suicide attempts, I am still alive thanks to Vista and Charlotte.
-Char actually likes me!
-I am still dyslexic, clumsy, have an Earth disability called ADHD, and am diseased by my own idiocy.

Eight months later
Our son was born today.
Sterling Kress Charles von Wer.
He looks very much like Char. He has her coppery blond hair and her nose, but he has my cerulean eyes and pale skin. Rassilon, I hope that his personality is more comparable to hers than mine. If he’s anything like me, Gallifrey will burn by his twelfth birthday.
Sterling is the most wonderful child I’ve seen. He is not even a day old, and he has only cried once: upon arrival. He doesn’t cry when hungry, which he is a LOT. Doesn’t cry when in need of a change. If he is this way for the rest of his infancy, I believe that I shall go mad. I have prepared for constant fussing, and I get quiet. I now believe he will be more like Lottie.

Sterling’s First Birthday
Age 21
It has been a complete year since the birth of Sterling, and he has only cried eleven times, because he has, unfortunately, inherited my general lack of balance and poor judgment of depth. He has run into walls, fallen down staircases, toppled into open cupboard doors, and slipped on floors just mopped by Char. I told her we should child-proof the house. She said, “For whom? You or your son?”
Vista made Sterling a watch, but we will give it to him when he is old enough to appreciate it. Porter gave him his old calculator…He thought that was hilarious. Ian actually seemed to care for Sterling today, and gave him a journal. My parents gave him clothes, and Char seemed excited. And Char’s parents gave him money. Char and I, being somewhat tight on funds, as I am still attending the University of Gallifrey, redid his room. Char had me paint stars and constellations on his ceiling, and the beautiful frosty forests beyond the Citadel on the wall.
Happy Birthday, Sterling.

Age 26
Sterling, Age 5
Char-About to give birth!
Lottie is due to give birth to our next child any day now! This is kind of bad timing, as I am graduating from the university in two days, and Ian has invited us to his house to celebrate: The child or my graduation, I know not.
Ian seems to care little about what people think now. He doesn’t care if he’s seen in public with me, and he seems to like tending Sterling for Char and me.
I

1 day later
This is Vista. It seems you were writing, and Charlotte went into labour. I’ll finish for you, Calix.
Your son was born yesterday. His name is Baylor Curran Wycliffe con Wer. He appears to be much more like you than Ster is. His hair is dark, like ours, he has pale skin, especially for a newborn, the same general facial structure, and even your eyes. He has Charlotte’s curl, though. He had so much hair when he was born!
To think, you’ll be graduating tomorrow. Of course, I graduated two years ago. ;)

Age 29
It has finally happened. The Great Time War has broken out. The Time Lords versus the Daleks. This war will result in total annihilation for both of us.
Baylor asked me why the Time Lords had to fight so often. I looked at him, then hugged him tight to me. “We don’t have to,” I told the three-year-old. “The Minister just chooses to lead us into battle.” I am hoping Rassilon will be a better president.

((Wow, this is great!! Makes me want to do one for Raelle. :) Do you think I should?))

((Sure! I have all of this written up to after Calix's memory's been wiped.))

((Cool!! I think I'll start on Raelle's soon. :) ))

((Alright. Man, I was writingit in school today, and it was so weird 'cos people kept looking over and saying,"Charlotte's pregnant with our child? Our?"))

((Agh, I hate it when people assume stuff and you have to explain it's fiction and from a guy's point of view.))

(9Yeah...I was mortified! Gah!))

((Did you get the chance to explain it?))

((Yeah. But they gave me a funny look.))

((Sheesh, it's not that hard to understand.))

(( :P ))

Age 31
Still no change in the war, although the Commander is now very upset with me. He ordered me to kill an entire Dalek squad, and I faltered. I couldn’t do it! I am to receive my punishment tomorrow. I’m sending Char, Sterling, and Baylor off-planet.

2 days later
Vista again.
Calix, dear Calix! I am so terribly sorry! I know that you won’t remember this in a month, but I will write this for you!
Calix nervously opened the doors to the council room, his red robe hanging loosely on his thin frame. He had the appearance of on who had not slept well, if at all.
“Ah, Calix von Wer. Yes, come in, sir.” A kind looking woman smiled at him. “They will be ready for you in a minute.”
Calix nodded, sitting down in a comfortable looking chair. He squeezed my hand. I could tell he was scared.
He was summoned into the larger room, but I was made to sit in an observation room with our brothers. Two of the biggest blokes I had ever seen grabbed Calix’s arms, holding them tightly.

There were two poles in the centre of the room, with a bar laid across them. They tied his wrists to the top bar, arms outstretched so it would be more difficult to escape.
They started by naming his wrongs, and he turned white as a sheet.
“Are you ready to accept the consequences, no matter how severe?”
His fingers whitened, gripping the ropes holding him down. He answered yes, he was.

My dear brother, I cannot come close to describing how I felt, and how you looked, when your wife and two children were dragged out of another room.

“NO!” Calix screamed, pulling against his bonds. “No! Don’t you DARE touch them!” The expression on his pale face was that of rage mingling with pure terror.

I shan’t describe this next part.

Charlotte and Sterling lay dead on the floor, saturated in their own blood. Baylor was the last to die. He looked up into his father’s face, both of them crying, and he said, “Daddy? Why didn’t you stop them, Daddy?” And he died.
Calix let out the most piteous, terrible cry that any living thing in our multiverse had ever uttered. Tears were streaming down his face, which was contorted in agony. Blood from his wrists was staining his robes.
Porter, Ian, and I sat there in shock, but we could feel ropes being wrapped around our wrists.
“Charlotte! Baylor! Sterling!” Calix cried. The men released him and he shot forward. He gathered their bodies all together and cried. Oh, how he cried. “Come back to me,” he pleaded. “Please, come back. I need you. I need you! You were the only ones who cared about me! Please, come back!!”

The horrible men dragged him away from his loved ones. They dragged us away, into a cell.
They took the broken-hearted man into another room and beat him, but he didn’t seem to notice. Everything he had lived for, loved, was gone, murdered in front of him, and it had left him empty, unloved, broken.

((Oh my gosh, that's so sad!!!! D:))

((I know!! :'( ))

(( D':))

Twenty days later
Calix again.
The colour red is constantly in my thoughts.
Burning.
These will be the last words I ever write in this. The council is going to take away my memory so I can’t remember how horrible they are. How much they deserve to burn in the Fields of Punishment.

((Sad. :( ))

Ten days after that
Vista, permanently
Calix. Oh, Calix. I am so sorry. You ask me why you are constantly sad, but I cannot tell you. The truth would literally kill you. And I know that you will never read these words, but I need to write them. For you. For Charlotte, Sterling, and Baylor. For any future family you will have. You and I are only thirty-one, but you have seen more sorrow and grief than anyone will ever know. Including you.
I’m so sorry.

((Very sad. But they get better from this point.))

((Well that's good.))

((Yes.))

One month later
Well, Calix. It is gone. Gallifrey. Our childhood, our home. The only place we have ever known, reduced to cinders and ash. This only adds to your depression. You still believe that no one has ever cared about you. I know otherwise, but have made you promise to never read this book, ever.
Now, in memory to those lost.
Charlotte and her family.
Your sons, Sterling and Baylor.
Our parents.
Everyone else, including Rassilon.
The surviving population is few—you, me, Porter, Ian, a couple (Drongo and Hibiscus with their daughter they named after you, Calixte), and another couple (Barbet and Francolin) {Side note Barbet and Francolin are Rory’s parents}.

Age 50
We have reached our fiftieth birthday…And we still appear to be in our mid-twenties. Ian, now calling himself Visvajit, has run off. No one knows where he is.
You took me to Planet One, and we had a lovely picnic upon the diamond cliffs. You cooked fried fish, scrambled eggs, thick toast, and lime curd for breakfast. For lunch, you made roast leg of lamb, garnished with mint jelly, roast pork with herbs crusted to the cracklings, soup with parsley dumplings, and watercresses, and you gave Porter currant pudding with wine custard sauce. You are such an amazing cook! But truly, the only reason you know how to make those dishes because those were all Charlotte’s favourites.
For some reason, as of late, you’ve been saying some female’s name in your sleep. It sounds like “Raelle”, and then you say “Beautiful One of the Vortex” or “The Lamb and the Torch.”

Age 63
Calix. You. Are. An. Idiot.
Yeah, I really appreciated our trip to Ancient Rome. Sold into freakin’ slavery, you numpty! It was awesome! (Hint: SARCASM.)
30 BCE. Yeah. We were 61.
Some Roman soldiers captured us, then sold us to some stupid patrician.
Porter was sent to his Lordship’s stables.
I…have seen things you can never un-see. *shudders*
And you…1, your name is Greek for incredibly handsome, and Greeks are known for their beauty. 2, You’re “pernicious” and “spiteful”. 3, You appear young. 4, The patrician’s daughter has taken a fancy to you. You IDIOT. I will seriously…
Guess when we escaped…28 BCE.
I’m gonna kill you. Or at least seriously maim you. You’re either going to wake up breathing through a tube, or not at all.
STUPID.
STUPID.
STUPID “YOUNG GREEK” MEN!
*Ninja Slap!*

((Hahaha, nice. Hmmm, mumbling Raelle's name in his sleep? Makes me wonder...))

((He's psychic...))

((That explains it. :) ))

((I rather like the Ancient Rome one.))

((haha, yeah, that's funny. :) ))

((Vista is a mistress of sarcasm.))

((Definitely. :) I'm working on another entry for Raelle's journal now.))

((Cool beans!! I might have to go @ any moment...))

((Awww! :( ))

(( :'( Yeah. I am still laughing at the food fight! I actually had raisin bran for dinner. :P))

((Hahaha, nice! I wanted some raisin bran, but we're out. :( ))

((Sad!! *smiles shyly* I like raisin bran.))

((I do too! I like the new raisin bran crunch. It has granola added to it.))

Age 70
Calix.
I shake my head at you.
1. Queen Elizabeth I
2. Queen Isabella
3. Cleopatra VII
4. Marie Antoinette
5. Eleanor of Aquitaine
6. Lady Redbird
7. Reinette Poisson
8. Hatshepsut
9. Nefertiti
10. Queen Victoria (She was 18!!)
11. Helen of Troy
12. Anastasia
13. Joan of Arc
14. Virinia, the patrician’s daughter.
You’re an idiot!
That’s fourteen human females you’ve…Well, I get that Virinia kind of ordered you to. And Jeanne d’Arc did chase you, beat you up, and tie you down…
You’re such an idiot.

((*snort, snicker* Wow, Calix.))

((Yep. He's been around. XP ))