[ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ]

[oddbod]

I have a question about nanites.

[Said casually, but with a certain amount of self-importance. Clara Oswald opens conversations as though they were great doors to be flung.]

They're what bring us back when we die, yeah? They repair what's malfunctioned, like... like a pit team. [She thinks that's what they're called, at least.] But what if nothing's there to fix? That's what I want to know. If there's no body left, there are no nanites left, so the Porter just... rematerializes you? Plops down a backup file? If there's too much damage to fix, what exactly happens?

[It's all asked in a very matter-of-fact, academic tone. Clara could maybe use a lecture on morbidity from her past self.]

Comments

[magnitudes]

Corpsey science. Or... corpse-free science. Bit morbid.

[oddbod]

In case you haven't noticed, I'm a bit morbid. It's sort of hard to avoid.

[magnitudes]

Nah. You're a radiant ball of sunshine. Sparkly little teddy bear.

[oddbod]

A teddy bear can be morbid.

[magnitudes]

( there's a long pause. )

Sounds a bit teddy-ous. Unbearable, even.

( Okay she really wasn't committed enough, but there's at least a fractional smile that follows. )

[oddbod]

[Blink. Blink. Lip-purse.]

Drink some water and got to bed, Sarissa.

[magnitudes]

Can't make me.

[oddbod]

Bet you I could.

[magnitudes]

Bet you couldn't times infinity.

[oddbod]

When do you turn twelve?

[magnitudes]

Uh I'm ten, actually.

[oddbod]

Then I can definitely tell you to go to bed.

[magnitudes]

Tell as much as you want. Doesn't mean I'll go.