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Jan. 1st, 2020

solemn, pensive, distant dreams

How's My Driving? / Necessaries

Why don't you let me know how I'm doing? Comments are screened, anon is on, logging is off.

Boundaries and permissionsCollapse )

Feb. 14th, 2011

and I gave it of my own accord

And They'll Sing For You - for leadsthestars; lvspin

Addictive though it was, the surge of joyous triumph on the tail of a discovery never seemed to last very long. He'd been ecstatic to finally dislodge the last obstruction in the way of his blueprint's success: he could go home, and tear the empire of the Cybermen apart from the foundation up... and save them at the same time. It would be a painful process, of course, but with a small bracket of practice, a measure of improvement by his own scientists (even if he surpassed them on a larger scale, they were adept at bridging the minuscule but crucial gaps he left behind), and a great deal of compassion and patience alike, the Alliance would succeed, and peacefully.

Why hadn't it lasted longer, that glee? The friends he'd made here would surely encourage it, encourage him to pursue this end. He could always come back. Play the hero, he mused as he shut the door of his cabin behind him. That always seemed to be what it boiled down to here. Playing at some daydream of what he'd once been, only to return here and simply cope.

And it occurred to him as he walked to tell these people of his discovery that... he didn't know if he could come back at all. He stopped a moment to absorb this. It had taken months, years even, before, to even pinpoint the proper singularity to reach through, and the second time had been quite by accident. His friends had thought him dead. Martha... Coyolxauhqui had thought him gone. He couldn't do that to them again.

This wasn't what he was made for at all, anyway. He understood the premise well enough, but slow and steady had never been his pace, aside from reading or tea. It wouldn't be fair, to himself or to any of them, to act as if he meant to return. They probably knew well enough that were he to go once more, he might not even try to come back. One step, and another. Wouldn't be fair.

He always had been one for quick decisions.

Her chamber was his last visit. Everyone he cared for here had been seen, and for better or for worse, the mutual understanding had been achieved and acknowledged. He glanced up to the door, half in dread and half in pride. Coyolxauhqui. The goddess, the moon, and the warrior. A figurehead of his greatest point of contention with the Admiral: his own knowledge that gods, true gods of any sort, didn't belong here.

Ever since the tragedy the month before, he'd been swayed once more out of his sense of being betrayed, bit by small bit... through her small struggles and honest efforts, more than anything. He still kept her fettered by his restrictions, but these were the only measures he could think to reach her at all with, and she'd grown away from them admirably.

They hadn't spoken of that night ever again, to each other or to anyone else (that he knew of, anyway), but it still caught at the edges of his mind. He'd allowed her to sway him then, too, to touch him and plead with him, and then, he'd had an inkling of an ulterior motive, though he hadn't known what it could be. Why had he let it pass? Curiosity was no excuse; there was very little to be curious about in this place anymore. He remembered her struggle with words then, her frustration at... him? Herself? It didn't matter. A spot of phantom warmth bloomed on his face, remembering again. And the ensuing ache at the pit of his chest. He didn't know whether he was in the corridor of a hub ship, or on a beach years ago with a lack of the right words to give to another woman, just as ageless, just as lovely, just as wilful and fierce.

But that was the only similarity, really. The lack of words. Oh, she was going to be angry.

With a steadying breath, he knocked.

Dec. 13th, 2010

where are we this time?, fine weather for cricket

Cheers to Jack Frost - for thegooddrjones

"Doctor, come on! You've survived going shopping with me before, and I even caught you smiling in the middle of it!"

"Tut, Peri. I promised Erimem we'd show her the Eye of--"

"But it's boring there. We've seen it fifty times already!"

"Ah, but she hasn't. And it isn't boring. It's tranquil. After what we've just scraped out of, I'm sure you can appreciate the effort."


"Yes, Erimem?"

"I want to go to this shopping. What Peri has described to me sounds very exciting! Surely we can do this, and attend to the Eye later? You're a--a Time Lord, yes?"

...what a dreadful time for them to make a valid argument against him. And Peri's triumphant smirk didn't help matters at all.

"Yeah, Doctor. We can go there any old time. But Christmas shopping needs a certain mood. Pizazz for the season! And time travel doesn't catch that all the time, you know."




"What about London? When was the last time you had tea with the Brig?"

He can't exactly remember how that landed him in the spot of agreeing to let them go, but there it is. At least he doesn't have to go with them, even if there's a good chance the Brigadier might no longer be there. He's not sure why he agreed to let them do this in Earth's 21st century, either, but, well... they've promised not to make trouble. They stand expectantly near the door like children waiting for permission to go and play in the snow as he navigates the landing and dematerialisation. The coordinates check out. Early December of 2009... Peri was vehement that he make certain not to land them in the last Friday of November, for some reason, but she wouldn't elaborate. Viewscreen... check. It looks safe enough. He goes for his hat.

"Have you got your satchels?"

"Yes, Doctor."

"Enough layers? Lists, idents, key, what have you?"

Peri rolls her eyes. "Yes, dad. We'll be back by sundown, okay?"

"Very well. Don't bring the whole of London down on our heads, please."

It's amazing to see how quickly they disappear as soon as the doors open. Adjusting his coat, shaking his head and laughing to himself, the Doctor steps out the door moments after them, locks it behind him and ventures out of the alley to glance up and down the street it opens to, enjoying the stark city winter and the bustle that still cuts through it. He does a marvy job of blending into the crowd, he thinks, and weaving through it without causing a fuss... until, distracted by the shapes of snowflakes he's noticed in the process of waiting to cross the street, he starts forward and collides directly with someone at the curb, sending half their boxes to the ground.

"Oh! Terribly sorry," he mutters, stooping to pick them out of the snow. "Where is my head?"

Sep. 28th, 2010

a starshine, little light of mine, a certain fondness

OOC: Sanctuary; For thedoctorjones

It's like a fractal! An AU of an AU of an AU of...Collapse )

Jul. 2nd, 2010

lucid, you are my love the astronaut, the man in dreams

OOC: The Sky Calls To Us; for thedoctorjones

I know very little about Martha Jones canonically. I am so sorry if I messed her up ;_;Collapse )

Jun. 4th, 2010

solemn, pensive, distant dreams

OOC: Belated lemming-dive is belated.


Why do I do things like this? I won't remember it, come morning.

...maybe that's why I'm posting the link here. For the sake of documentation. Hmm. Sum of our memories, indeed.

Jun. 3rd, 2010

youthful and impetuous, you caught me

OOC: Strange gifts; for who_am_iii

Warning: manly affections ahead.Collapse )

No, I really wouldn't like to hear about how terrible I am for promoting paradox and self-cest all in one go. I'm well aware, thank you.

Apr. 25th, 2010

youthful and impetuous, you caught me

Appropriate Levels of Frivolity - for amouthonlegs

It was a very nice day- at least, the Doctor was quite certain it was day. The rough landing had rendered the viewscreen caught shut, and muddled one of the temporal monitor screens, but those would be very easy to fix in a flash, and he was entirely certain they'd landed discreetly out of the way, within easy strolling distance of the Buckingham Gardens. If it happened to be night, well, they'd take a bloody nap and try again in the morning, because Tegan had mentioned the Gardens once and he'd walk her through the Gardens if it was the last thing he achieved for an Earth year.

He was bound and determined to find one way or another to trick a smile out of Tegan today. They'd had a rather trying journey, what with several hiccups in the yearometer once again, following Nyssa's goodbye. Everyone aboard seemed in sore spirits about that, and the Doctor couldn't deny a twinge in his own hearts when he thought about it- so he decided not to think about it, as well as he could. Turlough was easy enough to deal with when in a bad mood- he simply sulked in his room, giving cursory greetings when he came out for food or a book. Tegan, however, made herself, her feelings, and her opinions well obvious for any and all to hear. Especially when the Doctor was attempting to get her to Heathrow, or anywhere and anywhen else he thought might cheer them up.

It was strange how badly he wanted to do that, for her in particular. She grated at him, tore him down in completely illogical fits that had nothing at all to do with the matter at hand (completely unreliable? Pfeh! Not bloody likely), forced him to repeatedly call into question the interest he vested in humanity- and yet hers was the smile he strived all the harder to earn. He grumbled to himself as he wandered to the wardrobe room, hardly soothed by the empathic caress of the TARDIS as he stewed in his own pit of futility.

And he saw it, on a(nother) hat rack. Not exactly like that which Romana had worn, but something vaguely similar: a small white sun hat, with delicate lacing round the rim and tiny lavender flowers tucked into one bit of the ribbon, nothing too fancy. He remembered seeing Tegan try this on, comment about it- positively- with Nyssa one night, before they noticed him in the console room and promptly left without explanation. At the time, he'd decided girls were simply befuddling creatures, and his opinion hadn't changed now, but he clung to this memory.

Not at all because the thing had looked very smart on her ind-

Shutting the door on that thought, he left the wardrobe, took a deep breath in preparation, and forcibly brightened his expression as he heard the approaching, no doubt angry, clip of her shoes from the corridor. How he wished Nyssa were still here to mediate.

Mar. 14th, 2010

lucid, you are my love the astronaut, the man in dreams

OOC: Three cheers for memes!

Right, then. I've got to find some trend or other to follow, and it might as well be a creative one. This isn't limited to my friends list. You may pick up to three songs.

1. Put your mp3 player on shuffle and take the first 30 songs it gives you.
2. Link to the lyrics.
3. Let your friendsfriends and passersby assign you a song and character(s) to write a drabble to.

Preferred pairing or other characters to include?:
(For friends and playmates) Would you like me to include your muse?:

(Note: I couldn't find decent links for some songs. If you're not familiar with a song and there's no link for it, ask me- I'll email you a clip.)

Dancing the Light FantasticCollapse )