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Up until this moment, he's convinced that it's not actually going to happen.
He watches the sky turn a dark red and he's reminded of the smokestacks over Japan during the Year That Wasn't. The Master took him there, showed him just how much he won, and the air was thick and disgusting and smelled like burned hair. That was the world Martha saved. This is the world it is now. A red smoky sky and a battlefield.
He hates that Jack is here. That he forced him here. He hates that any of them are here. Fighting. There should've been another way, he thinks. The TARDIS twists and builds a time bubble around the battlefield. Keeps them safe. Sort of. It's war, it's not really safe.
War. He can't help but chuckle ruefully at that. This isn't war, it's a poorly staged gang fight. He knows what War is like. War with the capital 'W' that causes scars on everyone who was alive at the time. He's seen battlefields that stretch against star systems, not just a long stretch of grass.
His forearm aches from the new tattoo, but he's not risking being possessed, being used against his friends. In his other arm he has a book with some of those exorcisms Sam told him scribbled out. His allies have swords and scythes and guns (he cringes at the sight of them), but he's just going to fight with words. It's better that way.
The sides meet and some overzealous fool throws the first sword.
The fight starts. Time is slow for the Doctor. He watches each death, thinks of the life that person had before they were taken over. What were they thinking? What plans did they have?
He thinks about Rose. He could be with her, right now. Should never have agreed to help with all this unnecessary violence. They all think they're helping, but they're just being little blood-covered soldiers. People are dying, nothing is ending. But someone has to stop it. They think they are, but---
Isn't that what any soldier wants? Jenny had asked him. They want to stop the fighting. He holds all of this in, all of the things he remembers about the War. He has to hold them in, he has to protect himself from the things he did…
He ducks, narrowly missing a wonderful beheading by a very tall demon. Don't lose your head, Doctor. He cries out a line of Latin words and the thing before him screams in agony.
It's horrific. It's inhuman.
It's a start.
Muse: The Doctor
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 427
Based on various RPs
He watches the sky turn a dark red and he's reminded of the smokestacks over Japan during the Year That Wasn't. The Master took him there, showed him just how much he won, and the air was thick and disgusting and smelled like burned hair. That was the world Martha saved. This is the world it is now. A red smoky sky and a battlefield.
He hates that Jack is here. That he forced him here. He hates that any of them are here. Fighting. There should've been another way, he thinks. The TARDIS twists and builds a time bubble around the battlefield. Keeps them safe. Sort of. It's war, it's not really safe.
War. He can't help but chuckle ruefully at that. This isn't war, it's a poorly staged gang fight. He knows what War is like. War with the capital 'W' that causes scars on everyone who was alive at the time. He's seen battlefields that stretch against star systems, not just a long stretch of grass.
His forearm aches from the new tattoo, but he's not risking being possessed, being used against his friends. In his other arm he has a book with some of those exorcisms Sam told him scribbled out. His allies have swords and scythes and guns (he cringes at the sight of them), but he's just going to fight with words. It's better that way.
The sides meet and some overzealous fool throws the first sword.
The fight starts. Time is slow for the Doctor. He watches each death, thinks of the life that person had before they were taken over. What were they thinking? What plans did they have?
He thinks about Rose. He could be with her, right now. Should never have agreed to help with all this unnecessary violence. They all think they're helping, but they're just being little blood-covered soldiers. People are dying, nothing is ending. But someone has to stop it. They think they are, but---
Isn't that what any soldier wants? Jenny had asked him. They want to stop the fighting. He holds all of this in, all of the things he remembers about the War. He has to hold them in, he has to protect himself from the things he did…
He ducks, narrowly missing a wonderful beheading by a very tall demon. Don't lose your head, Doctor. He cries out a line of Latin words and the thing before him screams in agony.
It's horrific. It's inhuman.
It's a start.
Muse: The Doctor
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 427
Based on various RPs
