Title: Birth of Destruction 3/3
Characters/Pairings: The Tenth Doctor, Martha Jones, Barbara Wright, Original Characters, some Ten/Martha undertones
Rating: PG
Word Count: Part Three: 3,491
Summary: While trapped in 1969, the Doctor finds employment at the local hospital and gets a lot more than he bargained for.
Disclaimer: The Beeb owns Doctor Who. Coincidentally, the Beeb also owns my soul.
Author's Note: Special thanks to [livejournal.com profile] handysparehand for the beta! Written for the [livejournal.com profile] muses_gonewild prompt: "158 - The doorway."
Part One is here. Part Two is here.


The Doctor held open the hospital door for his companion. "So it's an insult, then?" he asked.

Martha bristled. She did not like having the conversation on racial slurs she'd just had with the Doctor. She especially didn't like how nonchalant he was about the whole thing, as if the end of racism in a hundred years made the fact that it was happening now irrelevant. "Yes, a very unpleasant insult, and a bit out of date, too."

"Well, not for the 60's, at least."

"Maybe not for the 60's. But still unpleasant. And says a good bit about your employer."

The Doctor nodded. 'I think his blasé attitude towards the dead children says a good bit about that, too.' )
Take my thoughts for what they're worth // I've been acting like a child
In your opinion, and what is that?
It's just a different point of view

Here's a video of the TARDIS.

Because I love the TARDIS. And I would never, ever, ever want to discount her.

Now, that's our...uh, blog. Thanks for blogging. But before we go, we'd like to check in with our good friend, [livejournal.com profile] handysparehand over at his journal. How's it going over there?

OOC: As Handy's mun is the Stephen Colbert to my Jon Stewart...I give you, the toss.
"If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we'd be too simple to understand it." - Emerson Pugh

Love is infinitely more complicated than hate.

There's a whole holiday based around love, there are self-help books on love, and there's an entire bank of the book store labeled "romance". Some people would trade looks and money just to be loved, and of the 778 best picture movies during the Academy Award's run, 750 of them were based around some sort of love story. One quick look online and it's easy to find "7 great ways to build a good relationship" or "How to find true love". As if it was actually that easy.

Psychometrician Robert Sternberg theorizes that there are three components of love. A triangle, as it were. Passion, commitment, and intimacy. Without these three elements, one can hardly call it love at all, can one? And only the commitment part is something one can control, the other two are based on emotions, compatibility, and (usually) hormones. Without the heat of passion, a love story has no intensity. Without commitment, it will fizzle and die into nothing. And without intimacy, there's no genuine connection.

Psychologist Zick Rueben proposes a similar theory, though he words it 'round a bit differently, calling it "caring, attachment, and intimacy". The fundamentals are the same, of course, but it's focused more on a less romantic version of love and more a general version because there's more than one version of love, apparently. Romantic, parental, familial, friendly…all sorts of love. Psychologist Elaine Hatfield splits them into two categories so one can take up less space in their cabinets: passionate and caring.

And if one follows the scientific Coulomb's law, then one knows that the magnitude of the electrostatic force between two point electric charges is directly proportional to the product of the magnitudes of each charge and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between the charges. Meaning that opposites attract. Clever, isn't it? Good old Charlie Coulomb, always great fun at parties (but he's French, so that's expected) Oh, and Freud says love really just has to do with sex. But that's Freud. Good bloke, but he's a bit off his rocker at times.

Love is complex. It's messy, it's twisted, it's confusing, and no matter how hard you might try to fit it into an algebraic matrix, it just doesn't want to come out simply.

As for hate.

Hate is easy.

Hate is deep-rooted and uncontrollable.

Hate is body temperature rising.

Hate is adrenaline pumping.

Hate is muscles tensing.

Hate is all-consuming.

Hate is…a lot like physical attraction, come to think of it.

The Doctor Explains Love. And Other Completely Improbable Instances of Self-Awareness. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,342
Based on RP in [livejournal.com profile] realityshifted with [livejournal.com profile] savagestime and [livejournal.com profile] shatteredqueen.
Also, special thanks to [livejournal.com profile] savagestime for suggesting that I challenge myself and write something in 4th person!
I don't deny it // I still haven't found it
I proudly wear the scars // I've challenged every crutch so far
Please don't blame me / Please don't blame me
'Cause I'm in over my head, in over my head
Over My Head - Furslide

The man with the scar walks round the corner of the office building. There's a press conference not far away from here. A press conference called by Nathan Petrelli. A press conference that will change the world. The man with the scar cocks his handgun and turns another corner.

He's not far from it now. Cut for spoilers to Heroes, 3.01 'The Second Coming'. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,019
Title: The Body in the Boxcar
Part: 4/?
Characters: The Doctor/Agatha Christie
Spoilers: 4.07, 'The Unicorn and the Wasp'
Word Count: 1,527
Author's Notes: I can't get enough Agatha. Apologies for the very long wait in between parts, it shan't happen again.
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, and Part Three

The question of the murder weapon was one that should've been answered simply but was, in fact, more complex than I first thought. )
"Music is the soundtrack of our lives." - Dick Clark (quotes)

She hasn't changed that much since her wedding, she thinks.

Oh, she's older. Her shoulder-length hair is more greys and whites than blonde, her eyes are framed by laugh lines even when she's not laughing, and she's traded in the knee-high boots for capesio heels that don't bother her arthritis as much.

But underneath it all, she's still the same old Jo Grant. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 2,306 not including lyrics from "Sea of Love" by Cat Power

Download song: Sea of Love by Cat Power
Don't want to hurt anything
Don't want to hurt this fragile love we know
Because there is nothing left to hold
And we prayed that night
And you said to me
"Don't worry baby the worst has come
And the worst will go
And there's nothing we don't know"
I'll believe you then
But you know me and I always think the worst…

She looks different when she sleeps.

He leans against the doorframe and watches her chest rise and fall, her mind off in…wherever it is humans go when they sleep. All of her restrictions are gone. No matter that he's convinced her to give up her corset, she still is held back by many things. She talks and moves in such a way as to lead others around her, shape a dying universe. She doesn't have time to just be herself. She's confined to what she knows how to do. Confined to people and planning. Rooms and routines.

When she sleeps, she has none of that holding her back. Her hair is mussed and her eyebrows are relaxed and she just looks so peaceful. He can almost imagine her coming to bed and all but dropping from exhaustion. She does so much. He...doesn't. He can't think of the last time he slept just by closing his eyes.

He envies her that. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,157
Based on events in [livejournal.com profile] relativespace
So, this trip didn't go nearly as well as he'd hoped.

Though now that he thinks about it, that's not anything very new.

He's standing before a large pillar. On the pillar is a great face looking down at him and his three companions. In his hand is a broken broomstick, procured by unpleasant methods. On his feet are bright red Converses. The Converses, while both stylish and comfortable, are possibly the most frustrating footwear he's ever owned. When the TARDIS landed here, wherever here is, it crushed an evil sorcerer who was wearing the shoes. The sorcerer death passed the shoes on, and since the TARDIS belongs to the Doctor, the Converses transferred themselves to the Doctor's feet. Even though he was originally wearing quite lovely white Converses and red clashes with a brown suit. And another evil sorcerer---this one with a wide, terrifying smile and a habit of drumming his fingers---became obsessed with killing the Doctor to obtain them. The Doctor tried to direct him to a local shoe shop to buy his own, but seeing as he wasn't certain where he was it made giving directions difficult.

But a bucket of water and some unpleasantness later, the Doctor and his companions bested the Sorcerer and came to this face in the stone, this...Wizard bloke in order to obtain directions back through the rift. His companions have their own desires, all of which are valid, but he needs to leave this place and seal the rift behind him. He doesn't want to think what damage he is doing to this brightly-colored world and its inhabitants by staying.

There's the Straw Man, of course. Straw Idiot, the Doctor likes to call him. He can't figure out why, "Idiot" seems like a rather harsh term. And the Straw Man is trying to find a brain, after all. The material used to bind him is dark, and he has straw sticking out of the places where the stitching doesn't quite mesh in. He's in a Nintendo t-shirt that's torn a bit in places from all of their adventuring, and some ratty jeans.

The Tin Man, he's a bit of a mystery, even to the Doctor. His skin is grey, just about matching the long grey coat he always wears. He's all bright smiles and boyish good looks, but he tells the Doctor he's been rusting in those Cardiffian Woods for 150 years. He's looking for a heart, or a way to feel after all these years.

And the Lioness. All wild ginger hair and a sour expression on her face. She was supposed to be married, though something happened that made her run away. She's trying to find courage. Real courage, not just the shouting and ordering about she does to cover up her fear. The Doctor's rather fond of her, even though she's rather fond of slapping him.

And now they're all here, talking to a giant green head. )

Muse: The Doctor
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 2,098
Part One and Part Two

The TARDIS had to eat something.

If someone had told the Doctor that a few days ago, he would've either laughed or taken the ship over a crack in the rift for a refuel. Instead, there he was, sitting across from a thin girl with golden eyes as he tried to tempt her with a plate of chips.

"It looks disgusting," she said. He could tell from the twist in his stomach that she was hungry but the concept of eating didn't make any sense to her.

"No, see, it's good." He popped a chip in his mouth and it was good, but he could feel she didn't agree.

"You are grinding it with your teeth into mash and then swallowing it all mashed up. That's going to digest and turn partially into energy and partially into waste. It is inefficient."

Well, that put a little damper on his appetite. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom:Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,242
What brought him here? Some quest, some adventure, some mishap. Nowhere else to run, nowhere else to go. He's here, now. Nowhere else to run.

Go ahead and jump.

He stands at the edge of the chasm, and he can't see the owner of the voice calling to him from somewhere along this chasm. The rock staggers and slides in a menacing manner that calls to mind teeth in a gaping maw. The sharp contrast of the white stone beneath his feet and the pitch black of the depths below is startling, and the pink skin of his bare feet looks wrong in the monochromatic world where he stands. The sky is also sharply black and vacant of the stars he's spent his life looking up that. They're there, he thinks, beyond that inky atmosphere. Other worlds, other worlds with color and freedom.

Go ahead and jump.

He shifts his foot and the stone crumbles easily away. For the terrifying depths below, the stone around it is soft and maleble, which makes it all the more terrifying. It feels like warming ice, burning his skin with chill. He uncurls his fingertips and the wind from the chasm spreads across his sweaty palms. The air is thick, it’s a bit like he's wading through it. He breathes it in and feels like he will choke. The air he breathes is cold, in comparison he feels scalding. He almost imagines he will melt down the side of the bluff. His skin will slide down the cold, jagged rocks and split around them.

Go ahead and jump.

He takes a breath. The air is heavy, it feels like rain. A heavy rain will break over this bluff and he will have no choice but to fall down. Fall into it. The water will push him through the clean-smelling stone and he will crumble. Crumble and fall. Crumble and fall. Crumble and fall…

Go ahead and jump.

The words he hears echo down the sides of the silent chasm. They tumble and fall and hop back to his ears and he can almost recognize the voice. Almost. It sounds vacant and hollow. Vacant and hollow and there and---

Doctor. Go ahead and jump.

His name, this time. His name and the voice he only just recognizes. Jump down. Jump across. Jump. Jump there. The voice is probably a lie. It's probably someone who wants him to die and, really, who wouldn't? Who wouldn't want the Doctor out of their hair if they were up to something?

Doctor, please.

That voice. He recognizes that voice. He never wants to think that voice could lie to him.

He breathes, his foot slides over the edge. The wind screams over his face and he feels the shift of gravity as his body moves over the edge and the coming fall begins to take over.

Go ahead and jump.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 484
Holiday Preparation List
1) Wrapping paper
2) Bows
3) Tape
4) New Pair of Scissors
5) Tree (with very sturdy stand)
6) Ornaments that are shatterproof
7) Non-tangleable lights (not the blinking ones)
8) Presents
     a) For Rose:  Something shiny and pretty
     b) For Mickey: Something shiny and simple
     c) For Jack: Something shiny and inappropriate
     d) For Donna: Something shiny and expensive
     e) For Martha: Something shiny and useful
     f) For Astrid: Something shiny and from Earth
9) Stockings!  Variety of sizes and colors.
10) Coal (for the Master and the Rani)
11) Refill of atmospheric excitation cube on top of TARDIS
12) Holiday Foodstuffs
     a) Eggnog (and rum)
     b) Turkey (not the people of)
     c) Banana Bread (good for any occasion)
     d) Stuffing (for Turkey)
     e) Cider (with brandy)
     f) Variety of Greens
     g) Someone who can actually cook the meal
          i) Romana?
          ii) Jake (seems girly enough)
          iii) Jackie NO NO NO
          iv) Professional Caterer (seems most likely
          v) Doris (also excuse to see the Brigadier)
13) Miscellaneous
     a) Buy Mickey a K-9?
     b) New shoes?
     c) Need more tea
     d) Don't invite Donna's family
     e) Need reasonable Christmas music that isn't in Swahili.
     f) Don't drink too much this year, don't need to send another letter to Jack's SO.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 218


rude_not_ginger: (Default)
The Doctor


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Powered by Dreamwidth Studios

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags