#tegan: WHAT?! (outraged)

[expelliarmus]

[headcanonsandmore]

‘Murder On The Dancefloor’, Chapter Three

Summary:  A murder mystery was not what Tegan and Nyssa had planned to spend time on during their honeymoon. However, needs must and, as the various suspects are interviewed, more suspicions are raised...

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                                                    Read on AO3. 

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The assembled members of the board stared at Maximillian, Tegan and Nyssa, their faces a mix of outrage, shock and confusion.

‘Murder?’ exclaimed Crudgeonleigh, his bald head reflecting the lights above. ‘You can’t be serious!’

‘I’m afraid we are,’ Nyssa replied. ‘Although we have yet to ascertain the full details yet, it is clear that Mr Finchley’s death was not due to natural causes. The man was murdered.’

‘Good grief!’ Alexson gasped. ‘Who… who could possibly want to kill Frederick?’

‘We don’t know,’ Tegan said.

‘When you say “we”,’ Swoosh said, slowly. ‘You are referring to yourself and your wife, are you not?’

‘That is correct,’ Nyssa said. ‘Given the communications issues, the authorities will not be arriving here for several days. Since myself and Tegan are the only guests in the hotel with no connection to the victim, the staff was elected to have us lead the investigations for the time being.’

‘B-but…’ said Tapper. ‘That… that would imply that… you must think that one of the board members is the murderer.’

There was an explosion of shocked noises from Swoosh, Crudgeonleigh and Alexson.

‘Please,’ Nyssa said. ‘I understand this must be shocking but-’

‘There’s a murderer on the loose!’ exclaimed Crudgeonleigh. ‘Tapper, are you implying it was me?’

‘He hasn’t got the backbone for that!’ -Swoosh’s brow was creased into a deep frown -‘Crudgeonleigh, how do we know it wasn’t you?’

‘I’m not being accused of this by his ex-wife!’

‘Everyone, please!’ pleaded Alexson.

‘Oh, shut up!’ Swoosh yelled, turning her ire on him. ‘You’re the one who helped this place get started; how do we know you didn’t organise this so you could bump us off one-by-one!’

Nyssa raised her hands to request calm, but the board members continued to argue.

‘Oy!’ Tegan exclaimed, stepping forward and raising her voice. ‘You lot; listen now!’

The board members all went quiet. Tegan smiled, grimly, before nodding at Nyssa to continue. The Trakenite flashed her wife a thankful smile, and then stepped forward to address the board members.

‘We request that you all remain in the fencing gallery for the time being,’ she said. ‘And that none of you leave the resort until after the authorities have completed their investigations.’

The board members all sent enquiring gazes at each other, as if gauging the collective response. Eventually, they all seemed to come to an agreement.

‘Very well,’ said Swoosh, to Tegan and Nyssa, with a mute nod.

‘Thank you,’ Nyssa replied. ‘We will keep you all informed as to the investigations.’

Maximillian, Nyssa and Tegan headed out of the gallery, and Tegan closed the door behind them. Maximillian headed off at a quick pace. The two women followed him down the corridor, towards the main hall. At the end of the hall lay the body of the unfortunate Mr Finchley.

Nyssa stopped a few feet away from the body. Tegan came to stand beside the Trakenite, who turned to face her wife.

‘You don’t trust them, do you?’

‘Not a jot,’ Tegan said, crossing her arms. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if they were just going along with this just so they don’t appear shady to us.’

‘Normally, I’d say you were too harsh,’ Nyssa said, smiling gently at her wife. ‘But, on this occasion, I absolutely agree with you. But maybe this is a good thing; they might well slip up because they know we��re investigating.’

Maximillian reappeared, walking across the hall, carrying a large transparent box.

‘For checking over the body,’ he said. ‘We do have a small lab on site if you require; Mr Finchley was surprisingly aware of the health risks of hotel staff.’

‘Thank you,’ Nyssa replied, as the man placed the box on a nearby table. ‘These will come in very handy.’

‘Do you have any cameras stationed around the hotel?’ Tegan asked. ‘It might help us spot something about the murder itself.’

‘Unfortunately, the only cameras stationed in the hotel are in the main lobby and some of the corridors,’ Maximillian replied.

‘It was a nice idea, Tegan,’ Nyssa said. ‘Maximillian, have you had any luck with the communications?’

‘None,’ the man sighed. ‘We really are cut off from the rest of the planet for at least a few days. It doesn’t help that this region doesn’t have a lot of population centres.’

‘We’ll just have to make the best of it,’ Tegan said. ‘And the board members have agreed to stay in the resort until the investigation has finished.’

‘That’s good,’ Maximilian replied, smiling. ‘We really do appreciate you both helping with this.’

The two women returned the smile, and Maximillian left, heading across the main hall.

‘I’ll have to examine the body,’ Nyssa said, already slipping a set of scrubs over her dress and doing up the zip. ‘Pass me those surgical gloves, will you?’

Tegan nodded, and handed them over.

‘You think you’ll be able to find anything?’

‘With the death only occurring a little while ago, I should think I’ll be able to get a good understanding of the cause,’ Nyssa replied, now pining her hair up and slipping a cap over it. She then began pulling on the gloves. ‘We may be able to ascertain the murder weapon and how it was used. Possibly even some DNA left by the killer.’

‘God, you’re so smart,’ Tegan said, smiling.

Nyssa’s cheeks flushed, and she let out a giggle.

‘Thank you,’ she said, smiling. ‘Now, as you’re better talking to people than I am -no, don’t argue, we both know it’s true- maybe you should enquire as to the backgrounds of the board members.’

‘Relationships to the victim, possible causes, that kind of thing?’

‘Exactly,’ Nyssa said, now slipping on a surgical mask. ‘Try to get them a little on edge; they may blurt out something they regret.’

‘Making people a little irritated? You’ve come to the right woman.’

Nyssa smiled.

                                                         *

 Tegan entered the fencing gallery. She had picked up a pad of paper and a pen from the main desk on the way.

The board members were all sat on seats on one side of the gallery. None of them were sitting near each other, leaving sizeable gaps inbetween them. All of them looked somewhat uneasy, but that was understandable given the circumstances.

Deciding to rip the worst plaster off first, Tegan approached the grizzled financier, and gestured towards a small room nearby. The man nodded and headed into the room, sitting down on one side of a table. Tegan followed and closed the door.  

‘Mr Crudgeonleigh, was it?’ she said, as she sat down on the opposite side of the table.

‘Yes,’ replied the man, curtly. ‘I basically financed this entire resort.’

‘Big spender, then?’

Crudgeonleigh’s eyes narrowed at her. He put Tegan in mind of a buzzard.

‘I am a very wealthy man,’ he said. ‘I lived a long life and I wanted to contribute to something other than my own pay packet for once. When Frederick came to me about this resort business, it was perfect timing.’

‘And now he’s dead, immediately after giving you a larger stake as a shareholder,’ Tegan said. ‘Forgive me for stating the obvious, but that sounds like a motive.’

Crudgeonleigh slammed his hands down on the table, nostrils flaring like a wounded bulldog.

‘I didn’t kill him!’ He spat, eyes widening. ‘I knew that man for over fifty years; he got me out of a ton of scrapes when we were young, and I’m damned if I ever thought of killing him at the peak of his greatest triumph!’

Tegan did not say anything, instead watching the man continue to breath heavily.

‘Bit of a short temper, then?’

‘I… I apologise,’ he said, gruffly. ‘Probably the grief. That… that was unbecoming of a gentleman.’

                                                                *

 The old butler sat down.

‘Rudolph Tapper?’

The nervous man nodded, wiping his brow with a handkerchief.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Awful business; poor Mr Finchley.’

‘You were close?’

‘I was his butler for many years. Although I left for family reasons. About ten years later, Mr Finchley asked me if I’d consider employment at the resort he was planning. Head butlership, increased salary, etc. I… I couldn’t refuse.’

Tegan nodded, noting this all down.

‘And… would you say he was a good employer? Treated you well?’

Tapper stared at her for a moment.

‘I… yes, I suppose he was. Well, during his younger days, he could be brusque on occasion, but that wasn’t uncommon during that time. Never paid anyone badly, though. Very generous.’

Interesting.

Tegan noted this all down. A generous-but-brusque employer. A potentially bitter ex-employee with revenge in mind. Mr Tapper looked barely able to speak properly in front of most people, but you could never tell with these things. Maybe his nerves had finally snapped?

                                                                 *

 The slightly younger looking man sat down.

‘Alex Alexson?’

‘The Fifteenth, yes.’

‘The… Fifteenth?’

‘Old family tradition,’ he said. ‘Every first born son has the name. I’m the direct descendant of the founder of the dynasty.’

‘Fascinating,’ Tegan said, not bothering to write this down. She was already being forcibly reminded of every annoyingly cheerful aristocrat she’d ever met. ‘You knew Mr Finchley well? I’m told that your family own the land the resort was built on.’

‘Yes,’ replied Alexson. ‘When Frederick came to the planet looking for a suitable site, we became close business associates.’

‘Good man, you thought?’

Alexson nodded.

‘Generous and affable, to be precise. I still can’t believe someone would… would…’

The man suddenly turned around in his seat, wiping his eyes with a handkerchief.

‘My apologies,’ he said, after a moment. ‘It… it was supposed to be such a happy occasion, and it’s been marred by tragedy.’

Hmmm, Tegan thought. Well, unlike the other two, Alexson didn’t seem to any motive whatsoever, at least not so far. However, given he was the victims business partner, maybe the motive was financial in nature. The local landowner who was hoping to get a lot of money out the spa? Maybe this was one of those “hostile takeover” situations?

                                                             *

 Tegan sat down on the opposite side of the table, as the older woman leaned back in her seat, folding one leg over the other in the way she seemed to do out of habit.

‘Ms Jovanka-Traken.’

‘Ms Swoosh.’

Tania Swoosh drew on her cigarette holder, before letting out a ring of smoke lackadaisically. Tegan ignored this, instead noting down the woman’s name.

‘I take it you had a… history with Mr Finchley.’

‘Twenty years of marriage is not just “history”, but yes.’

Tegan raised an eyebrow.

‘After over a decade of being left in peace, I get pulled over two galaxies to a backwater planet in the middle of nowhere, told I have a stake in the place, and then the bugger doesn’t even the decency to explain himself before dying.’

‘Your ex-husband died barely a few hours after giving you a percentage of his own shares in the place,’ Tegan said, arching an eyebrow. ‘Now you’re a good deal richer and with your ex-husband out of the way forever. Seems like a rather good set-up for you, doesn’t it.’

Swoosh did not answer.

‘That’s called a motive, Ms Swoosh,’ Tegan said.

‘I… I didn’t kill him,’ Swoosh said, quietly. ‘I promise you, I did not.’

                                                              *

 ‘Reverend Mast?

The man nodded.

‘Ms… Jovanka, was it?’

‘Jovanka-Traken,’ replied Tegan.

‘Traken…’ said the Reverend, slowly. ��Wasn’t there a planet with that name at some point in time?’

‘That’s beside the point,’ Tegan said. ‘I’m given to understand that you were invited here on Mr Finchley’s personal invitation.’

‘Yes, we met a while ago in the capital,’ replied the Reverend. ‘I was not privy to the share transfer, given that I am not technically a board member.’

‘But you still knew the victim.’

The Reverend suddenly rose to his feet, and walked around the table, so that he was standing in front of Tegan’s chair. He stared Tegan in the eye.

‘I am the master, and you don’t need to ask me questions-’

SLAP!

The Master crashed to the ground with the force of Tegan’s hand hitting his face. She had jumped to her feet without thinking, and had charged forwards.

‘You… bastard,’ Tegan growled, glaring down at him, her hands now clenching into fists. ‘Now I know why you picked up on the name Traken!’

‘I… what?’ The Master asked, looking confused as he stared up at her. ‘I’ve never visited Traken.’

‘Yes, you have! I know you don’t care about the places you destroy but-’

‘Destroy Traken?’

The time lord looked shocked.

‘I assure you, I’ve never met you before in my life,’ the Master said, getting to his feet and adjusting his jacket. ‘I’d remember offending someone enough to cause them to slap with that much force.’

‘You… you’re serious?’

‘I rarely joke, Ms Jovanka-Traken.’

Tegan rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing. This was all they needed right now. Never mind a potential murder scene, they now had to deal with time lord nonsense as well. It was as if Tegan and Nyssa couldn’t relax for a single weekend without one of these idiots bringing their shenanigans into the picture.

And what was she going to tell Nyssa? Love, don’t worry; one of the potential suspects is the man who murdered your father. Yeah, that would definitely help Nyssa’s anxiety levels.

‘So… if you’re not here getting up to schemes, why are you here?’

‘Well… I’m on holiday.’

Tegan stared at him.

‘Holiday?’

‘Yes,’ replied the Master. ‘Am I… not allowed to have a holiday?’

‘Undercover as a reverend?’

‘Given that I am technically on the run from the Time Lords, I find that an alias can help alleviate much of the issues when travelling. Unlike a certain time lord in a blue box I could mention, I like to travel incognito when relaxing.’

‘If you say so.’

‘How is the Doctor, by the way?’

‘She’s fine.’

The Master nodded, without comment on the different pronoun. Time Lords were apparently far less bothered by these things than humans were.

‘That’s good; she does make the universe an infinitely more interesting place.’

‘I thought you hated the Doctor.’

‘Well, maybe the version of me that you’ve met previously does,’ the Master replied. ‘But I personally find the Doctor to be a fine adversary. Of course, we were once very close friends, so I suppose I am still rather fond of her in that way.’

Tegan grimaced.

‘My apologies,’ said the Master. ‘I did not intend to offend. You see, my relationship with the Doctor is… well, far more complex that humans are usually accustomed to-’

‘Stop talking or I’m gonna slap you again.’

                                                                   *

  Tegan entered the main hall, closed the door behind her, and headed over to where Nyssa was stood.

‘Any luck?’ Nyssa said, turning as she heard Tegan approach.

‘A bit,’ Tegan replied, flipping through her notebook. ‘All of them seem to have a motive of some kind; revenge against a bad employer, money schemes, envious landowner, jilted ex-partner, etc. And all of them are now financially better off with the victim gone.’

Nyssa nodded, come to stand and look over Tegan’s shoulder at her notes.

‘It seems as if we have every kind of motive covered,’ the Trakenite said. ‘Romantic revenge, anger, business woes, and money.’

‘Pretty much. Any findings from the body?’

‘There’s no trauma to the neck or chest,’ Nyssa said. ‘No outward signs of any blunt weapon. However, the way he acted as he fell indicated that he may have ingested some form of poison.’

‘Any way to determine that conclusively?’

Nyssa nodded.

‘The instrument I used should be finished now.’

Nyssa crossed to the nearest table, and picked up an instrument. Pressing a button, Nyssa watched as a strip of paper was printed out. She stared down at the readings.

‘Definitely a mixture with poisonous effects, ingested shortly before the murder. At an estimate, I’d say barely a few minutes before, if that.’

‘His drink?’

Nyssa nodded.

‘It certainly looks like it. He hadn’t drunk anything else all evening except for the one he drank just before he collapsed. And there are plenty of fast-acting mixtures that can cause effects like this.’

Nyssa bent down and picked up the half-empty glass that was lying next to the body. A few droplets remained on the bottom.

‘I’ll run some tests on this,’ she said. ‘And see if it matches the poison found in Mr Finchley.’

Tegan nodded.

‘Good plan. We need to know what we’re dealing with.’

‘Oh, you didn’t mention the motive of the Reverend,’ Nyssa said. ‘I take it that, due to him not being a board member, he stood to gain nothing from the transfer of shares?’

‘Something like that. Er… Nys?’

‘Yes, Tegan?’

Tegan sighed, before walking over and squeezing her wife’s hand softly.

‘It’s… well, I have to tell you something about the Reverend…’

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone; hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Also, I don't know about you all, but I've been basking in the heady glow of THAT season 20 trailer for the past day. It's great to see Tegan and Nyssa getting more of the spotlight, as well as most of the plausible deniability for the pairing being gently removed (Tegan's deepest desire is to be together with Nyssa? Hmmm, doesn't sound very platonic to me XD). I know we all joke about there never being a heterosexual explanation for these two, but it is absolutely true!

[i-am-become-a-name]

Advent Prompt: 06/12/2022: Someone save me from the FOURTEEN PAGE CRICKET GAME in the Black Orchid novelisation, please. (pages 20-34)

Even after the subdued stay at Cranleigh Hall drew to a close, longs days of walking in the grounds, or taking refuge in the library to allow the family time to mourn and deal with the formalities of planning a funeral, Nyssa had remained withdrawn and pale in spite of the beautiful scenery that surrounded them and Tegan’s attempts to cheer her up.

The Doctor attributed it to a general unease around Ann Talbot, and her abduction by Ann’s unwell ex-fiance, but even as they said their goodbyes and stepped into the TARDIS, she remained quieter than usual, and Tegan kept shooting her worried looks when she thought no one was looking. Adric, Rassilon help him, had no such delicacies in social manner, and asked loudly “Is it tradition that terrans locked their children in the attic?” and Nyssa abruptly stiffened while Tegan exclaimed the boy’s name in horror. She ushered the younger girl, who’s face had gone very pinched, out, and muttered poisonous things about boys having stomachs bigger than their brains.

The Doctor sighed loudly, idly at flicking controls on the console, and said: “No, Adric. It was not an ideal situation. They were simply trying to... do what they thought best.” And the multitude of sins that phrase covered could fill all the empty spaces in this universe and still spill over in to many others. He glanced up to continue of the theme, but Adric had already lost interest in what had happened at Cranleigh Hall, and was instead curiously watching the coordinates the Doctor was entering, muscles working on their own initiative, with no input from his conscious brain. But as he registered the numbers, he smiled. Somewhere quiet and uninhabited, just what the doctor called for.

-

When the TARDIS landed so soon after they had left, Tegan stared at the ceiling of the room she shared with Nyssa in outraged shock. She had expected at least some consideration for Nyssa from the Doctor, rather than throwing them straight back into peril, and she glanced at her uneasily sleeping friend before creeping from the room, pointedly moving to a stomp once she was in the corridor where it wouldn’t wake anyone.

But there was no one in the console room, and the doors stood wide open. Frustrated they had evaded her intention to yell at someone of Nyssa’s behalf (and she was far too nice to have considered yelling for her own sake) Tegan stomped straight out through the doors, heedless of what waited outside. She came to an abrupt stop as her eyes adjusted to the scene in front of her- it looked as though they were in a clearing, trees towering lush-leafed undergrowth, silent but for the wind rusting the foliage, and the hollow thunk of the Doctor using a piece of fallen... log? to hammer in the third of a- a laugh escaped her as she recognised the hastily collected wickets, a sturdy piece laying in the grass nearby that had been clearly put aside to serve as the bat.

-

When Nyssa stirred, the gentle whisper of the TARDIS in her brain alongside the homey surrounds, she wandered curiously through the empty corridors, drawn by the friendly yelling and laughter coming through the console room’s door.

Tegan was standing in front of some kind of primitive wooden art piece, wielding her own piece of wood and trying to protect it from the Doctor. She saw a flash of red cricket ball, making this... Nyssa allowed herself a small smile, to see her friends so happy, up until Adric spotted her and demanded her presence on his team, citing solidarity in cultural ignorance, and Tegan immediately started bickering good-naturedly with the Doctor over what seemed to be some kind of method he had used to throw the ball to her earlier, and their voices rose in a joyful and healing chaos.

[hard-core-super-star]

I just read hailee and kate comforting R on a bad day and I just melted I needed to read something like this 🥺

Kshskakksk well, I'm looking on the bright side and feeling honored. I'm always here to remind and serve you ma'am 🤭

ok, I DIDN'T GET IT RIGHT LMAO, I had a theory that it would have to do with the songs on your fics playlist, or maybe in the list you recommended some that you like, I thought for a moment that it was something sara and tegan related but then I was like “nahhh” because I didn’t remember hearing anything with the name 119% or mentioning it--

Injustice's dialogues are all so good!!! definitely the best part of the game for me, just like mortal kombat. rubix don't even think about trying to take these kids' iPhones, that's equivalent to stealing their candies nowadays! stop!

I forgot that Batwoman and Batman ARE related oh my god. but yeah, that comparison makes sense now hdjwakik 😭

so they get caught by some kind of time police AND IT ENDS THERE? yes, no-harm done but damn, it's enough for the mind to create a thousand scenarios that could have happened. you have a point, maybe having it end like that on purpose would have been something funny, just leaving it open that they managed or would escape from this prison (literally speaking without even having watched this season)

YEEESSS AMAYA!!! I love her sm, I thought she and that guy who shared his body with an old man had the coolest powers ever. girlfriends? like, canon gfs?? or you're outraged because you wanted them to be girlfriends? 😶 I didn't finish ALL the flash seasons, are you telling me there's another team flash??

– 🌟

i feel that, it's so comforting to write things like that for me so i'm glad reading it feels that way too

as long as you don't think i'm boring, you look at the bright side all you like. now, now, let's not get too carried away, shall we? unless...

dhafjkgdgj lmao, in your defense, it was a slightly hidden reference so don't feel too bad about it. you were like halfway there but i thought i would save us the guessing games and just tell you what it was. it's just a random attachment to the number [and the song] and and old habit i don't think i'll ever break, tbh.

i agree, it's so funny and for what??? they truly went above and beyond and i admire them. THAT'S NOT WHAT I WAS THINKING. okay, maybe a little but seriously, they don't need a phone, they're children!

fake fan! just kidding, it's hard to keep track of the Bat-Family and who is genuinely related to who. as long as it makes sense, that's all that matters to me.

yup. at least it's open-ended enough for people like me to be like "and then they escaped and everything is fine" but like ouch. at least ava and sara get their happy ending.

amaya was honestly one of the best characters on the show. i hated her romance with nate but at least it was well-written unlike some other ones. and i agree Firestorm is cool af, i don't understand the science part of it but it's still cool. and, sadly, zari and amaya were never close to being canon but there's enough subtext and chemistry for my brain to be bothered by the fact a relationship between them wasn't given to me. technically no. but in my mind OG Team Flash is barry, cisco, and caitlin so anyone else who gets added later is part of another Team Flash. [especially the new characters like Allegra and Chester and everyone else that i've already forgotten because they're irrelevant to me]

[anotheruserwithnoname]

I got a PM asking my opinions on the Who finale tonight. Didn’t watch it; preferred to play Grand Theft Auto Online with my dad who lives by himself 700 km away, and one of the cable nets is running an Austin Powers marathon. Both those were of more interest to me, tbh. I have read detailed spoiler synopses and the like, so I do have a few comments (naturally after a spoiler break, and it’s wordy):

* Many of us predicted the outcome of the regeneration, including Tennant doing his signature “What what what?”

* Gatwa gets a brief appearance in the trailer for an episode that may not air for more than a year. I stand by my Matt Smith vibes assessment.

* There’s quite a bit of buzz about the return of Tennant, especially those who never saw all the media reports in the spring and were caught by surprise. Or assumed it would be Gatwa, with Tennant’s ep being a flashback or something. Not all of it is positive, but whatever. I’d prefer to have seen this announced as the Christmas 2022 special, rather than in November 2023.

* Some people are outraged over an apparent retcon in the episode (The Timeless Children stands in the corner, pointing at itself and grinning like Jerry Lewis on speed; oh, we will get to you in a moment, Skippy). The retcon is allegedly that there was a romance between Tegan and Nyssa. Uh ... it’s only a retcon really if it actually happened on screen. I remember the Peter Davison era vividly and there was nothing of the sort; if anything, it more strongly implied that Nyssa and Five were soft on each other (something I think was reflected in some Big Finish audios). Maybe something happened in a novel or a Big Finish I’m unaware of, but TV canon still takes precedence so I really can’t see people being worked up about something that didn’t happen on screen. Especially given Nyssa doesn’t even appear (and they apparently never bother explaining how Ace and Tegan teamed up, and they probably had forgotten about A Charitable Earth from Sarah Jane Adventures).

* Apparently a bunch of old companions and even Classic Era Doctors (but notably, not modern era - Tennant notwithstanding) appeared in cameos, including 97-year-old William Russell reprising Ian (unavoidably in the process retconning another Sarah Jane Adventures story that said he hadn’t aged a day since the 60s, assuming they didn’t de-age William). That’s all cool, but it should have been saved for the 60th. I’ve seen a few people say now that it smacked of dangling memberberries to try and win people back, and I can’t disagree. Mind you, the exact same thing can be said for the return of Tennant, so...

* Apparently at one point in the special the Master (played again by Sacha Dhawan) does something that results in him briefly becoming the Doctor. There’s apparently a charged moment between him and one of the outgoing companions that had some folks saying HE should have played the actual Doctor. I’ve been saying that since he played pioneering DW director Waris Hussein in An Adventure in Space and Time.

* As a result of that plot twist, it’ll be interesting to see how the numbering works out - is the Master!Doctor the true 14th? Is Tennant playing the 14th, making Gatwa the 15th? Or will he be the 16th? Or because of Timeless Children (I see you still grinning in the corner, Skippy) will RTD abandon the notion of counting altogether and every Doctor going forward will be officially unnumbered like the War Doctor (and the Journey’s End-regenerated 10th Doctor who technically was the 11th but has never been called that)?

* Not sure where they’re getting it from but I’ve heard some people suggest there are clues within the Next Time trailer hinting at some sort of retcon of The Timeless Child (which is still standing in a corner, but with its grin fast fading, now; run along now, Skippy; if an official retcon doesn’t get you, fanon will). There will never be consensus on the 2017 casting decision, and if the stories of the now-ended era sucked, well, other eras had stories that did, too (Season 22 nearly killed DW back in 1985, and Series 10 in 2017 was far from Moffat at his best either). Timeless Children is one of only a few things of this era that cannot be left to stand. Apparently they screwed around with how regeneration works too in this episode.

Anyway, I hear there are a lot of people upset tonight, either because certain agenda items were skipped over on the to-do list, or they aren’t fond of the 2022 casting decision (Tennant and/or Gatwa), or because the story was just ... there. Fact is, the era has ended. Some fans will exit now, and others will join or rejoin. That’s how it always happens, though the sense was the quit/join ratio was a bit out of whack this past era, with substantial attrition. The challenge Russell T Davies faces now is winning back those who jumped ship in 2017 or (more profoundly) after the Timeless Children episode, which marked the point where the show’s ratings really fell into a sinkhole, while also trying to keep as many fans as possible who came on for the now-ended era. That may be a bit of a trick; I saw a tweet from someone calling the casting of Tennant “misogyny.” It’s funny, if people had used terms like “misandry” back in July 2017, they’d have been run off the Internet on a rail.

Whatever, it’s done and over with. I remain undecided if I will be among those who RTD is able to win back. The return of Tennant has piqued interest, but I really don’t want to just nibble on the memberberries only to get indigestion later. I want to see a) what Gatwa brings to the table; b) how RTD handles the Doctor - does he still have the touch or will he crash and burn? (Note I’m talking RTD here; Gatwa, as with his predecessors, will work with what he’s given to work with - far as we know he’s not writing for the show); c) and the quality of the stories RTD and his team come up with. It may be a case of me watching the season after it airs. (So it could be 2 years before I get around to seeing it.) Lots can happen in 2 years.

But the memories I take away from the past 5 years are pretty negative. I went from loving the Who franchise to the point where I compiled a 2,000-page chronology of the show’s history and wrote some 75 fanfics, to the point where I had no interest in watching an era’s finale, have saved thousands of dollars in merch I have not bought over the past half-decade (not a negative - that money had other uses), and even the fanfic writing has become something I’m less enthused about than I used to be. Maybe RTD and Tennant/Gatwa will be able to rekindle that spirit (even if Timeless Child - who right now has left that corner and is running down the block at a cheetah’s pace - isn’t retconned away). Time will tell, a wise man once said. It always does.

[infinitedungas]

i have spent more of my precious time on this earth than i care to admit deciding which of the doctorwhos will say fuck

here are my findings, please enjoy

first doctor: swears once in a blue moon. always catches people off guard which he thinks is hilarious, cue much heeheehoohoo wehehehe

second doctor: a wholesome grandpa who has never said anything stronger than "fiddlesticks". gently bonks jamie on the head if he says a naughty word

third doctor: let off a litany of curses in front of the brigadier once, just to see what would happen (outcome: subject rendered puce and speechless)

fourth doctor: will let off a booming great “FUCKING HELL” when under stress but rarely in front of sarah jane. censors himself less around romana and definitely swears at K9

fifth doctor: absolutely does not swear, thinks it’s terribly bad taste and tegan swears enough for all of them anyway

sixth doctor: RIP peri and mel they put up with so much from this foul mouthed little rainbow gremlin. swearing intensifies when mel puts him on a diet

seventh doctor: swears with an impressive amount of creativity, mostly to get a laugh out of ace and usually in languages no-one else can speak

eighth doctor: swears often and with enthusiasm, prone to following with a ramble about the etymology of certain curse words

war doctor: has been through the wringer so hard that most swear words feel insufficient now, but will use a well-timed f-bomb now and then

ninth doctor: realises soon after his regeneration that northern accents were made for swearing. fookin ell rose it’s the fookin daleks

tenth doctor: keeps it extremely tame. most companions get a half-joking, half-serious “oi. language” if they swear - the exception being donna bc he quickly realises she is a lost cause

metacrisis doctor: canonically curses in the extended universe stuff and rose calls it “donna swearing”, confirming my suspicions that donna will say fuck and ten will not say fuck

eleventh doctor: absolutely does swear but people are always surprised / mildly scandalised by it because he looks about twelve

twelfth doctor: of course he fucking does, get in the fucken box clara we’re gonnae go shit up davros and his wee pepperpot cunts

thirteenth doctor: not a swear in sight. possibly got it all out of her system in the previous incarnation. yaz reacts with mock outrage if she even says “heck”

[redrobin-detective]

What do you like to imagine each incarnation of the doctor did with the time they should have been sleeping? :p

One: Putters about the TARDIS, trying to get it to work. He fiddles and lightly curses at the machine that trips him up just after he's made his 7th cuppa of the night.

Two: Dances and dallies, he plays his recorder and also putters but in a more fun and fanciful kind of way. Says he'll go to bed but really reads on his bed, lying on his stomach kicking his legs in the air.

Three: Does experiments, the later in the night and the less people around to tell him no, the more manic and unhinged they become. Also goes on midnight drives with Bessie to look at the stars.

Four: Also reads but he sits in an armchair with an outrageously sized glass of alcohol. Goes on weird little trips, the grocery store at 3am is a special place to him. He likes talking to, and confusing the exhausted check out boy.

Five: I can see him knitting, the man is very stressed and needs a relaxing sort of hobby. Tegan wants to know why all these mittens are showing up in her wardrobe. Goes on walks on strange planets.

Six: It's in his name, this man is a Baker. Like Three, his recipes get more strange and unhinged the later the night gets. Sometimes he wakes up his companions to ask them to try his treats. He'll try to exercise, sometimes, but usually end up back in the kitchen.

Seven: The weirdo who will play a chess match against himself and say "Oh? You're playing that gambit? Interesting". Reads but while wandering around the TARDIS and making sure everything is secure

Eight: He will also go for walks on strange planets but in a banging outfit with a long coat. Putters but in an anxious way, absolutely pokes his head in on his sleeping companions. He never can quite settle enough to sleep.

War: Not much time for sleeping or pretending to sleep in the Time War. He's almost always on the move so he usually passes out when he has snatches of free time. When he's avoiding it, he flies up the stars, sits with his legs hanging out and stares out at space.

Nine: Putters at first in a sad, listless way but later with determination. Really devotes himself to fixing up the TARDIS and getting her in tip top shape. Really gets into it and completely loses track of time. Sometimes he watches telly, loves sitcoms.

Ten: This man will Risky Business style dance around his TARDIS with abandon. Putters jauntily, makes cups of tea and forgets about them. Fusses with the TARDIS but usually ends up making things worse.

Eleven: This man solo adventures like it's nobody's business. He also messes with the TARDIS but in a way that's less intended to really fix or break anything and more just, something to do with his hands to avoid thinking.

Twelve: Canonically wanders aimlessly around the halls talking to a perceived audience like he's a professor in a lecture hall. Also walks while reading bc he can't sit still. Plays his guitar with delightful abandon. Scribbles weird notes on his chalkboard.

Thirteen: Putters about, definitely hums jaunty little tunes under her breath as she wanders. Fiddles with the TARDIS but mostly for show, to look cool to whoever may walk by. Stands over the console and just, tries to keep it together.

[mythalsknickers]

TITLE: Vir'sul El'u Eolas RATING: Mature PAIRING: Fen’aslan x Solas (Sollavellan) TAGS: Post Corypheus, Post Trespasser DLC, Magical Amputation, Body Horror,  Flashbacks, Liberal use of Magic, Liberal use of  Elvhen, Magical Healing, Spirits are overpowered Link for AO3

This started out as a DADWC writing prompt, however, it quickly escalated into a full-fledged fic that demanded its own part of my canon universe. Reblogs, are always appreciated. As well as kudos and comments.

There was no pain; just a sudden nothing where her forearm should have been, and he was leaving. Walking away as if he hadn’t done that, as if it meant nothing to him.

As if she meant nothing to him.

Fen’aslan tried to stand up, stumbling forward in the numbness of system shock, crying out as her knees gave way and connected with the ancient stones that made up the broken, cobbled path. Panic seized her, keeping her from sobbing by stealing the breath she would have used as she realized she didn’t have the strength to keep herself upright let alone make it to the eluvian.

“Ma Vhenan!”

Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears, full of anguish and pain she didn’t yet feel. He paused, turning just barely towards her. “Don’t, Solas! Don’t leave me, ma vhenan!” she begged, standing up on legs that felt like withered branches, liable to snap at any given moment. Without thinking, she pulled on the fade with her right hand. It was only natural; their most tender moments, the moments of greatest intimacy, had been in the fade. The mist began to form around her as she took a single, shaky step forward. A breath later, she disappeared into the fade, hoping with her aching heart that it would work, that it would distract him just enough for her to catch him.

She strolled through the doors of the Exalted Council, her bare toes and heels soundless against the mirror-like tile, light robes swishing against her legs with a faint whisper, like the summer breeze through the grass. Her passage through the crowds was marked only by the quiet jingling of the six tiny leaves adorning her collar and the quiet hush she left in her wake. On the Dias, Arl Tegan and the Orlaisian continued their heated debate around the Divine in ignorance, unaware of how rudely they were about to be interrupted.

That thought almost made Fen’aslan smile, but the book in her hands kept her thoughts anchored on the moment.

“The Herald of Andraste,” a woman whispered, reaching out to touch her like she was their savior. She wasn’t, though, and before she could react, the man next to the woman snatched her hand back.

“It is a Rabbit, Woman!” he hissed through his teeth. “She was not sent by Blessed Andraste! More likely one of the demons her people worship.” He spat towards her as she passed him, but he may as well been invisible for all the attention she paid him.

As Fen’aslan became visible to her former advisors, she could see Josephine’s aggravation melt into relief and smugness radiate from the Divine’s smile. Her plan had been shared, then. Good, this would not surprise Leliana. The effects of her sudden appearance effectively pulled the two lords from their argument, just as she hoped it would. She wanted their undivided attention.

“You all know what this is!” She raised the book above her head as she took the final steps toward the Dias, her voice ringing out in the newborn silence the way her footsteps hadn’t. Defiantly, she faced the men who would put her organization under their sway, who were even now attempting to position themselves as Judge, Jury, and Executioner over the ones whose strength had revealed their shortcomings. As Inquisitor, it was Fen’aslan’s place to pass and enact justice, not theirs.

Behind her, the crowd waited with bated breath for her next words. No one spoke, not even the man who had spit at her, and not a single rustle of fine silks hinted that anyone was stirring. They were all either enthralled with her brazen declaration or - more likely - frozen by her audacity. It was time to find out. Exhaling, she spun on her heel to face them.

“This is a writ from Divine Justinia, authorizing the formation of the Inquisition.” The sea of silent faces, both masked and not masked, raised their eyes to the book clearly visible in her hands, and she flipped open the cover showing the distinctive ink of the blood-red eye staining the parchment. “We pledged to close the breach, to find those responsible, and to restore order - with or without approval.” She turned her head slightly towards Arl Tegan, catching Cassandra’s smirk and nod of approval.

The silence held; no one dared do anything but breathe, afraid to break the tension that drew every eye to her. Fen’aslan drew in another breath to steady herself, torn between the fluttering uncertainty in her belly and the wild exultation howling in her blood. Would he be proud of her in this moment, her love? She discarded the thought to continue with her plan.

“It was not a formalized treaty that saved Ferelden or her people,” she declared, turning to hurl the words directly at Arl Tegan. Oh, how smug he looked. “The Inquisition saved them when you could not. We will not disband for you.”

She could hear a squeak as the Arl sat back in his chair, too stunned for a moment to form words. His expression said it all for her - how dare she have the gall? She clenched her jaw, keeping her smile trapped behind her teeth. She was a wolf among the sheep who thought they could tame her. Stepping along the Dias with the sharp grace of a sword slicing through the air, she moved so she was directly in front of the masked Orlaisian.

“The Inquisition will not submit to an Empress who failed to end your inane civil war, and only keeps her throne because of Inquisition support!” It spoke volumes that Celene, Gaspard, and Briala had not attended these talks and instead, sent this Lord who was not important enough for her to remember his name. The Arl had presented more of a threat, but she was done with both of these sheep now.

The silence tore with the soft sound of gasps ripped from the throats of Orlaisian women. With that intangible protection broken, men put hands on their swords and yelled, their voices colliding in the air and forming a single incoherent jumble of sound. It did not matter; she knew every insult they threw at her, but they shattered against the armor of her indifference.

“This was never just an organization!” Fen’aslan declared when the volley of words ended. “It is about people doing what is necessary. We will continue to support you as we have done in the past.” Her eyes finally met Leliana’s as the Divine bowed her head in quiet approval. “There is worse coming than anything you’ve yet seen. We will not be rendered defenseless and riddled with the bureaucracy and the so-called politics of The Game. The Inquisitions will bow - but it will not be to either of you. Now excuse me.” Her tone turned the plea into a command of respect and authority, her robes once more whispering against her legs as she strolled away from the Dais “I need to save the world again.” She thrust the book towards Josephine, giving her little time to collect it as she passed. “I will see you at Skyhold.”

Like a wolf returning from a successful hunt, she prowled through the divided crowd, gliding through the room while gasps of outrage and protests lapped at her. How dare a blasphemous Rabbit and the supposed herald of Andraste voice such insolence to her betters! She ignored it all, chin high, unable to hide her smirk. It wouldn’t be more than a handful of breaths before the muttering erupted into a storm of shouting - but she would be gone before that happened. Throwing open the doors to the chamber, she grabbed her staff from a page and handed the boy a Caprice coin. Then, with the doors swinging shut, she smiled at the mutters rising into furious protests. A muffled boom behind her was the doors closing, silencing the storm as it broke.

As she materialized out of the fade, she could see the eluvian starting to darken and she quickly pushed herself through. How dare he try to shut her out again! Once she’d stumbled forward into the crossroads, however, she couldn’t see him.

“Solas! Tel’tuaun min ea el’u i em!” She could see the mirror closing behind her as she moved away from it, and for a split second, she wanted to jump through – but she continued, away from home, away from a guaranteed future. “Lasa em’an dirth ma’lath,” she begged. They needed to talk. Each mirror she passed, she sketched and made a note of it in relation to her path. “Ma tel’isala dina sul min! Tamahn emen to ea vir!” She cried out to the emptiness, but there was no answer and she sank down to the ground, her eyes slipping closed. “Fen’aslan ma ane a felasil Fen’harel.” Tears staining her cheeks, her body beginning to shake as she curled forward, she sobbed. He had left her again.

“Ma ane las, Da’lan.”

She opened her bleary eyes at the unfamiliar voice, noting the vallaslin on an equally unfamiliar face. It was her own – Fen’harel’s eyes was what her clan named it. “Ma ane isa ghi’la,” the elvhen asserted, crouching down. “Ar ame Rashale. Las, ma ane naim; ar juhalani ma vena mar sal.” He offered his hand and she took it, standing with his help and letting him lead her over to a mirror. “Fen’harel Enasanal,” he spoke. The mirror sprang to life, and he pulled her through it.

“Rashale?” she glanced at him, and he turned back. “Do you understand me?” She asked in the common language. At his nod, she continued. “Can you speak like this?” Again he nodded, and her shoulders relaxed. “Where are we?”

“The ones who raise you call it the Tirashan,” he replied as he led her into the temple. “This was where Mythal sent you to protect you from the Veil going up.” He watched her as she ran her over the wards on the temple walls, tracing their shapes. As soon as she removed her hand, energy pulsed through them. “Temple of the Hoping Moon,” he offered as he guided her deeper into the temple. Statues of two wolves appeared everywhere.

It had been a week since she went into the Eluvian after Solas, a week since Rashale had found her and took her to this temple. If Rashale was to be believed, it had apparently been created for her. She wasn’t sure she believed any of what he’d told her, honestly. He claimed that she was as old as Solas - or rather, her soul was, and she had been put into uthenera sometime during the slave rebellion. She frowned as she wandered the moss- and vine-covered floors, letting her bare feet pick their own path while she mulled over this information.

As she walked, she reached out with her remaining hand, touching the faded mosaic wall absently. Ambient magic pulsed through the tiles as her fingers ghosted over them, strands of vivid green arcing along certain tiles, lighting them up. That caught her attention and she stared at the wall, walking back a few steps to see the design.

It was the dread wolf.

The green magic changed; this time, it was purple, and she watched as a dragon took shape. Her lips parted as the color changed to a pale silver to make the last image in the mosaic: a moon's glow lighting up a white wolf ahead of the dread wolf.

“I wondered, Las, how long it would take you to find this.”

Looking around, she couldn’t see anyone, but the voice almost sounded like-

Her eyes locked with the dragon. “Mythal?”

She watched in awe as the dragon turned its mosaic head to her. “Well done, young one. You have come a long way since we last met.”

Her brow furrowed; the sentinels had told her Mythal was dead.

“I am a fragment, placed here once you were ready for everything. I am dead, child. We both know I can not help your wolf on his path.”

She drifted forward a few steps until she could reach out and touch the moon. “I am supposed to be his guide,” she whispered before looking at the dragon. “How, though? I am not even sure any of this happened.” Exasperated, she rubbed her hand over her face.

“How did the wolf claim to known things? That path is open to you...and it is time you learn to hunt.”

An orange glow began to appear along the dragon’s throat. As it opened its mouth, mosaic flames shot out but left the wall to smash into her chest, making her scream. The dragon closed its mouth as she pulled her hand back to touch her robe-covered chest, but there was no burn. The sudden sensation that she had swallowed the fire made her drop to the ground, gasping, trying to breathe past the phantom flames in her throat.

“Child, I have nudged history and shoved it. You are being melodramatic. Take what is yours; you are Elvhen, and kin, and would be gods just like your wolf; act like it!”

At the words, a fit of burning anger formed in her stomach and for the first time since the loss of her forearm, she reached out with her left hand. Ignoring that her hand wasn’t there, she attempted to pull the fade. Magic began to course around her, creeping along what was left of her arm after her forearm had been disintegrated, sickly green magic of the fade beginning to burst through the scars and drawing a scream from her throat. Her knees threatened to buckle from the sudden influx of pain in her arm and tears streamed freely from her eyes, her skin starting to tingle as the veil strained against her crude pulling. The sickly green magic traveled up her arm, skin smoking in its wake as the scars ripped open, the wounds cauterized before even a single drop of blood could drip onto the stone floor. Blindly, she staggered forward, away from the mosaic, feeling draconic eyes watching her with interest.

Clenching her jaw, she reached out with her missing hand, her weak legs causing her to sway dangerously. The anchor spread further with each faltering step she took. As she pulled on the fade, she could feel it begin to tremble around her. Her eyes went to her vestigial arm, which was beginning to ooze green fade-magic, and a hollow laugh burst out of her. This not-even-formed plan of hers was working? It was hard to believe, but the smoking grew worse with each tremor of the fade as more and more of the ooze came bleeding out.

The fade trembled and quaked under her assault, and the anchor began to spread past her arm. Each inch it crawled - sometimes leaped - over her skin, she could feel it trying to claw her apart. A scream tore from her throat but it echoed off the stone oddly, the sound warping until to her ears, it sounded like a howl. Hunching forward, she continued to stagger down the hallway, her nose filled with the smell of burning flesh. The fade was bleeding into the temple; she stared at a distant image of Solas removing his vallaslin from her face and her right hand tightened into an angry fist. She had been blind, so blind, so many signs that he had been hiding something and she hadn’t seen them.

She tore her eyes away from the memory, her heart aching because, despite everything, she still loved him. “Ma vhenan.” she whispered, her voice rough.

Something deeper in the temple called to her, and she struggled to continue her journey towards it. Bit by bit, the oozing, burning, green magic of the fade was forming the shape of her missing forearm. Her foot hooked a branch as she approached a door frame and sent her stumbling forward, her right hand catching one side of the frame as her shoulder slammed into the ancient stone of the other side. Leaning against it, she tried desperately to slow her frantic breathing. Each pull, each spasm of the fade left her feeling emptier than the last, and the pain still tore at the fabric of her very being.

As she stared at the remnants of her forearm, she pushed off the door frame and staggered into the room. In the center was a massive statue of two wolves nestled together. The shock of seeing what could only be her and Solas made her legs give out, her next pull on the fade purely reflexive as her knees collided with the overgrown tiles. He had to know what was happening, had to know what she was doing. If he didn’t, he either was not even looking at the fade or...well, she couldn’t think past the pain to figure out an ‘or’. Fen’aslan half expected his footsteps to echo towards her down the hallway she’d followed, and she could almost hear him calling her name. Tears trailed down her cheeks, and she closed her eyes.

It was nightfall when she opened her eyes again, one of them the sickly green of the fade. There had been no rest, no dreams for her. Breathing heavily, she stood up, her copper hair torn loose from its braid, and reached out with her left arm. There were still many missing pieces, and with soft exhale she attempted again to pull the fade, to tear the veil. She would have her arm back. Sweat dripped down from her forehead as she strained, splattering onto the tile. Another piece slipped through the fade, but there was not enough time to pull the rest of her arm through before something reached out and slammed into her.

Fen’aslan went flying backward, her head cracking against the wall as she hit it and crumpled to the floor. It felt like an eternity before she was aware of a groan slipping past her lips. Again she opened her eyes, but this time her green eye was met with a blue eye. The burning, clawing heat of the mosaic warred with the creeping chill of the glyphs as she climbed to her feet and realized she’d come face to face with herself.

A mirror.

“Inquisitor, you promised a price.”

Her eyes widened. The glyphs tightened on her face, attempting to spread to the left side. Another scream tore from her throat as the two ancient magics warred over her. The anchor pulsed angrily, and the only warning of it attempting open was the distinctively sickening popping noise. Her knees almost gave out again, every bit of her body aching and burning, leaving the fade scarred and bleeding even more heavily into the temple. It had already saturated the room, she realized as she looked up. There was no ceiling anymore, just the twin silver moons.

“Give in, Fen’aslan. This is our destiny: to serve the well. Fen’harel’s magic will kill us.”

Her mirror self spoke in a mocking voice, attempting to soothe her. Her reflection’s left hand was missing and her face was filled with unending sorrow and anguish, branded with the glyphs of the Well. Fen’aslan forced herself to keep her feet as she stepped away from the wall, her breathing heavy and ragged. Anger burned brighter than a star as the anchor flared along her left side, tearing into her further. Lighting, manifestations of her anger and pain, struck around the mirror.

“No,” she growled, her body shaking with her fury, and something began to change. The anchor had once been Fen’harel’s, but now she was making it was hers. It had been hers to claim all along. Slowly, at the tips of her sickly green fingers, silver magic began to emerge, spreading and clawing for each inch as it crept up her arm. The anchor fought back with violent pulses of magic that further assaulted the fade and clawed at her.

“Accept it, Inquisitor, and stop fighting. You will always be what you are now. Come home.”

She stared at the mirror, her heart hammering in her chest. Something in that phase had caused panic to seize her. Her left hand clenched into a fist as silver magic continued to bleed up her arm. Reaching out, she raised both her hands, attempting to pull the ceiling down on her mirror, only to stare in horrified when nothing happened; the mirror still stood in front of her and the ceiling remained intact.

“I told you, Inquisitor, you need to stop fighting this. You will never survive.” The image of herself in the mirror laughed. A wave appeared behind it, and the realization hit her: the woman in the Well had been her. Then the wave surged forward, smashing into her and tossing her back into the wall.

“I..I will never surrender…” As she struggled to stand up, ice spread from her feet, slowly creeping forward and freezing what it touched. Another wave smashed into her, trying to slide her back into the wall, but the ice held and her jaw tightened. Silver magic began to arc and hiss as it slowly overtook the green fade energy, bit by bit. It mended the skin that had torn, pulling her flesh together and quenching the burning pain. Slowly the green bled from her opaline eye, leaving only blue. She turned her gaze to the ceiling and pulled on it; the rubble tumbled down in a distraction as she began to walk towards the mirror, her legs trembling with each step. “I am no one’s slave. I paid the price of the well, now yield to me!” She commanded, throwing all of her strength into it. Every fiber of her body begged her to relent, to surrender to exhaustion.

The mirror shook violently as lightning began to arc between them. “We will not be commanded by a girl so foolish that she took what was not hers twice and would not pay the price!” Another wave began to raise up. “You will relent; in the end, they all do. Become what you are, child. It will not hurt, and you can rest.” The soothing mocking was back, each word casting a grapple of fade energy to entangle Fen’aslan.

This time, her anger was more precise, the lightning arcing around the mirror to entrap it. Each breath was focused on the glyphs, and her vision went black for a moment before she spoke.

“You dare command me?” Her voice was different to her ears; something had changed. The howl of a wolf echoed from somewhere as the two statues stepped off their base and began circling the mirror. “I am one Mythal calls kin. You will yield and become mine!”

Her magic lashed out towards the mirror as her skin began to ache and burn from the grapple she had been tangled in. Turning her eyes away from the mirror, she raised her now-silver magical hand toward the grapple, letting one finger claw at the grapple until it released her. The glyphs on her face began to change, silver magical energy coursing through them, turning both her eyes into pools of moonlight as another howl echoed through the room. Lightning flashed, the stone wolves growling before launching at the mirror. They savaged it with fang and claw and soon, silver magic began to ooze from it as it bled back to her. The Vir’abelsan had become hers; the mirror dissolved, and she could feel the voices fade from her mind.

Her knees buckled as exhaustion overtook her, silver eyes fading back into their normal, opaline mauve. The statues of the wolves were back on the base, nestled together as they had been, and as she kneeled there on the ground, Fen’aslan began laughing. Another voice joined her in laughing as the careful steps of armored boots approached, and when she looked up, there was Mythal.

“Well done, girl.” The woman’s amber eyes truly did seem pleased with her. “Now you can learn how to help him.” Mythal nodded, her lips curved into a slight smile. “Help him before he can no longer be helped, daughter.”

The warning chilled her. The goddess disappeared, the fade becoming less saturated in the room with each passing moment, and Fen’aslan staggered up onto her feet. She stared at her new arm admiring, magical energy substituting for the flesh that had been lost. Then a yawn distracted her, and she rubbed her eyes. Her body was exhausted and she could feel her stomach beginning to rumble and cramp with an increasingly-desperate need to find food. She needed to find Rashale. How long had she been in the fade?

As she hobbled out of the room, she noticed that the temple seemed to be repaired: the overgrowth was gone, the walls clean, the floors smooth with no ragged edges to catch her feet. She paused as she passed the mosaic and noticed the dragon’s absence. Was…it just a dream, she wondered? A glance at her left hand dispelled that; it was neither flesh nor missing, but a construct of her magic. It couldn’t have been a dream. Frowning, Fen’aslan limped gingerly out of the hallway and into the main thoroughfare of the temple.

“Las!” she jolted alert, her magic suddenly flaring to life at the sound of her name. Rashale seemed to appear out of nowhere, jogging up to her. “Thank Mythal I have found you.” His brows raised as he noticed her left hand, and he bowed. “My lady, pardon me. I was merely worried for you; you have been gone from the temple for a week,” he said, his voice formal and respectful.

“A week. I thought…” she whispered. She thought it had been less. Gone from the temple…Had she physically gone into the fade again? “Rashale, please. I am not a lady, and there is nothing to pardon.”

He shook his head firmly at her in disagreement. “You are a lady; your spirit has changed. You have found yourself, my lady.” It was his only explanation and while it was not enough for her, she was too hungry and too tired to worry about it for now. She yawned, swaying on her feet.

“My lady? Do you need refreshments?”

She stared at Rashale, blinking for a moment before his words finally made sense. Yawning again, she nodded. He offered his arm and, reluctantly, she took it and let him lead her to the kitchens.

The kitchens were rather large for the small temple. Carefully, Fen’aslan made her way around with a plate, gathering bits of fruits, jerkies and candied meats, hardened cheeses, and an glass of some kind of drink that smelled a bit like the wine Solas had introduced her to in Orlais. Lacking any sort of table or chair, she climbed up onto the counter where she perched with her plate of snacks, eating her fill and quenching her thirst. After her meal, she quietly made her way to her room.

Once the doors had shut behind her she looked around, closing her eye and trying to prepare herself. “Two weeks since I have dreamed…” she whispered to herself, wrapping her arms around her torso and squeezing in attempts to reassure herself. She made her tired way over to the bed and lay down, curling under the blankets, slowly letting herself drift off into the fade.

“Vhenan.” The word summoned her, and she found herself face to face with him. “Where are you?”

She stood up, and the images around them changed. He was trying to find her. “Where are you, vhenan?” she countered, shifting the fade on her own. “I will find you, vhenan. I told you I would not give up.” Around her, the fade stilled. Arlathan.

“I know you will not, Vhenan…” he seemed reluctant, looking around. “Allow me to show you these before we do not have time?”

She nodded, offering her hand. "Em ghi’lana,” she offered gently as he took her it, squeezing it gently. He lead her through the glass spires of the city and she watched the reflections, seeing multiple images of her and Solas. “In another time…” she smiled fondly; in another time, they had walked these streets just like this.

“Yes, Vhenan,” he added, turning and taking her- left hand? Her brows furrowed. “This is the fade,” he whispered. She realized they were in a grand ballroom just as Solas pressed close to her and began to dance. As they moved over the glass tiles, the room filled with people. “The Evanuris held such parties often. This was the night,” he started before spinning her. “The night everything I cared for was taken from me.” He growled, and the music took a deadly twist as she watched Mythal crumble to the floor. The young dreadwolf stared in horror at his kin, letting go of her. She recognized the figure in his arms. She tried to watch what happened to herself, but the scene focused on Solas lashing out at Elgar’nan.

“Wake up, Vhenan.” He leaned forward sadly and kissed her cheek. As her eyes opened, she sighed looking at the walls.

So it had begun.

Elvhen Translations

•Vir'sul el'u eolas (way to have secret knowledge) •Solas Tel’tuaun min ea el’u i em! (Solas don’t cause this to be a secret with me) •lasa em’an dirth ma’lath. (Let’s talk about it my love) •Ma tel’isala dina sul min! Tamahn emen to ea vir! (You dont need to die for this! There has to be another way!) •Fen’aslan ma ane a felasil Fen’harel. (You are a fool to chase Fen’harel) •Ma ane las. Da’lan. (You are hope. Young one) •Ma ane isa ghi’la. (You are his guide) •Ar ame Rashale. Las ma ane naim, ar juhalani ma vena mar sal. (I am Rashale. Hope you are lost, I will help you find your soul.) •em ghilana (guide me/ show me) •Vhenan (heart)

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

Ghost of you, 16/?

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 16/?.

Pairings: Human!Nine x Rose; Human!Ten x Jack; Clara Oswald x Olivia Baxter (OC).

Synopsis: "He went straight to the restricted area where he had locked Colin and dismissed the guard standing there. He needed to talk with the scientist alone. It wouldn’t be nice."

A/N: I've started writing this fiction last year after I had a particularly weird dream (as usual) and after I wrote the prologue, I've put it aside to work on other stuff. I've gone back to it not so long ago and decided that it would be the fiction I would post next, after not posting anything for a while. I must have watched I am legend and Game of thrones way too much to come out with something like this but I hope you will like it. I am not a scientist, nor did I have a particular knowledge of sciences. I do my researches on the internet like everyone to make sure everything is as close to the reality as possible. I have a literature degree only. Writing is what I do and it makes me explore next fields, and learn new things.

“We're all capable of the most incredible change. We can evolve while still staying true to who we are. We can honour who we've been and choose who we want to be next.” - Doctor Who.

CHAPTER 16:

Tegan hadn’t given anyone any explanation. After he was told by Camden that the scientist that maybe was behind this entire nightmare was called Myrtle Appleton, his brain had frozen on the information and he had known where to go for the next information to get. He was furious and his quick steps along with his clenched fists were a good clue of this anger boiling in his veins. He went straight to the restricted area where he had locked Colin and dismissed the guard standing there. He needed to talk with the scientist alone. It wouldn’t be nice. Tegan was tired of being the good boy. He was the boss now. He was in charge. It hadn’t been easy but there he was. He stopped in front of the door and put his hands on his hips. His eye and jaw were still hurting from the fists they had met earlier but it was war wounds. Colin was outrageously relaxed for someone who had been sacked and locked away. Tegan was resisting the envy of throwing him out of the lab and letting him see how he would survive out there. It was a chance that he hadn’t done it yet since Colin was gonna be really useful if he accepted to speak. Tegan wouldn’t get inside his prison. It would be playing Colin’s game. He would just do what he had to do by staying outside. One black eye was enough for him. He observed Colin. The scientist was lain on the desk of the room and watching the ceiling. He had a smirk on his face. He didn’t seem bothered at all by the whole situation. He was annoyed to have been caught but he was living it quite well. And this was infuriating Tegan. How could this mad scientist be so happy with himself when he almost killed a man? Colin didn’t move or made anything that could let Tegan know that he had seen him. He was voluntarily ignoring him. He maybe thought that it would force the neurologist to get mad and make a mistake, but Tegan didn’t plan on losing this battle. He remained silent for a long moment. Such a long moment that Colin finally believed that he was gone without a word. Only to face him when he decided to move. He smirked and put his hands in his pockets. He was gonna play it cool. He wasn’t gonna let Tegan see how furious he was for this situation. If the man was there, it was for a good reason. He would either push him out – Colin doubted the man would have the courage to do such a thing though – or he needed something particular and that option was far more interesting for the fired scientist. “Well, you’re the last person I was expecting to come here to visit me.” Tegan didn’t reply. Not yet. He didn’t want to play that game. He was gonna let himself fall into one of Colin’s trap. This time, he was gonna be the clever manipulative one. He was gonna try at least. He couldn’t remember a time where he had manipulated someone. He was too nice for this. But times changed and so did he. “No one is allowed to come and visit you.” “Except for the gargoyles keeping me here.” “Just be glad they’re bringing you food.” “You’re still a disappointing poofta, Tegan. Unable to even throw me out when the envy is burning in you. Too much of a good heart you. It will lose you one day.” “Don’t tempt me. This crossed my mind more than once.” “You think but you don’t do anything.” “Except I’ve fired you.” “Only after I punched you twice.” “Your aggressivity is just a way to get revenge for what your older sister made you go through.” Touché. Tegan knew he had won a point at the face Colin pulled. Even if he was trying to keep a straight face, there had been a subtle change in his expression that betrayed him. His sister was his weak point. Two siblings, two brilliant but rotten scientists. “Don’t you dare looking into my personal files.” “Why not? I’m your boss now.” “Boss of nothing! You’ve fired me!” “As long as you’re here, you’re still under my responsibility. That’s why I have access to your personal files.” “But you don’t have Missy’s.” “Myrtle Appleton, distinguished specialist of the Xeroderma pigmentosum. Author of three impressive books about the disease. Dubious methods but the results are there.” “Found this on her Wikipedia page?” “They don’t mention that she’s the one who started the whole noctiagus infection.” The silence that followed this information confirmed Tegan’s words. Myrtle Appleton was the one who let the virus out of her laboratory. Was it intentional or not, it was a question that didn’t matter anymore at this point. If she was caught, she would have huge troubles. “It was an accident,” growled Colin. He wasn’t gonna let this man without family badmouthing on the only member of his. Myrtle and him used to be very close. Almost like twins. They shared the same passion for sciences, for experiences, for the dubious methods. They were both geniuses of course and they were rivals on the scientific field. Myrtle was doing better than him at the moment but he intended on beating her on her own field.

– Flashback –

Colin ran to the flat he was sharing with Myrtle in town. First, there was that alarming article in the newspaper was alarming. He was the first one to have been called after that and he had had to ask for a free afternoon to Maxence so he could fix this problem. A problem that hadn’t been fixed. Myrtle couldn’t have her job back because she had been caught paying men and women that desperately needed money to run her experiences on them. She hadn’t told them that the Xeroderma would be inoculated to them for her to try to find a cure to this disease that once killed her precious child. This disease was still haunting her twenty years later and she was constantly looking for a way to cure it, as a way to save the daughter she had loved so much, a daughter who left a hole that could never be filled in her heart. Only Colin knew that story. Most people thought that she was doing it because it was her vocation. Most scientists didn’t have a particular story with the field they were working on. They just were doing this because their natural curiosity and will to change things orientated them this way. Myrtle was this way before all this story and she couldn’t talk to anyone about this because no one would understand and she preferred dealing with this on her own anyway. This was why she was being so secret on her researches and the way she was getting her results. No one needed to know why it was so important to her to find a cure to this disease. No one needed to know why she so desperately wanted to save someone who was already dead. No one needed to know that instead of a cure, she had created something far more dangerous. “What’s the matter, Missy?” Colin always hated being bothered during a day of work, especially since he was a rival to Maxence Spitz, one of the greatest minds of this century, but he could never resist the call of troubles. So when Missy had called to tell him to come immediately, when she had told him that it was urgent and that he better get his ass back home quickly, he had answered immediately. Her words and her tone had been enough for him to run to the flat where she had been hiding since she was fired. She hadn’t stopped her experiences. Far from it. And one of them must have gone wrong. “Don’t tell me you’ve told me to rush here for nothing, Missy!” “Not so loud, brother.” She finally showed up to face him and he sighed when he saw that she was wearing her favourite purple outfit with that thing she was daring calling a hat. She also had her white smock on, which she quickly got rid off and threw on the couch. “You were gonna be late for the eclipse.” “I hope you didn’t make me run all the way to here just for this stupid eclipse Spitz has forecast.” “Actually, I was thinking you could help me with a little something.” She gestured to him the little something with her thumb and forefinger slightly spread. Colin was feeling the anger boil in him. Missy was always taking things so lightly and making fun of them when he was being more serious. One of the clearest differences between them. He leaned against the wall and folded his arms on his chest. “What have you done again?” “Time for a hide and seek game.” “I don’t want to play anything.” Missy groaned. Her brother could be so annoying sometimes but they didn’t have much time to waste. They had to leave this flat and play that hide and seek game for the sake of the world. “Okay, fine!” she sighed. “One of them escaped. He’s got the symptoms. We gotta find him.” This admission from his sister made him fly off the handle. He had always known it would happen and she had sworn it would never happen. They teamed up and while everyone was looking up to the sky, they were looking for a man with particular symptoms. Someone they couldn’t find. And that was gonna have serious consequences on the world…

– Fin –

Colin was raging now. He couldn’t believe that someone found the truth. Of course, it shouldn’t have gone this far. Him and Missy would have serious troubles if they were caught. They had known the truth of this pandemic since the beginning and they had kept it hidden. Missy was behind this whole mess and she was as unfindable as the patient zero. The situation had made communication really hard but her and Colin always found a way to get in touch with each other. He wasn’t someone who was worrying easily but Missy was his only family and he really hoped that nothing bad had happened to her. He was the only allowed to hurt her and with the situation they were in right now, he definitely was gonna make her pay for it if he was finding her before anyone else. She better be alive! “Where is she?” “As if I was gonna tell you.” Tegan had foreseen this reaction from Colin. He didn’t insist and left the corridor. Colin raised an eyebrow. He doubted that Tegan would abandon so easily. He would come back for his answers. What did he expect? That finding the patient zero would help them find a cure? Colin knew everything about this patient and he had never been able to find anything. Why would the stupid neurologist find anything? He shrugged and lay back down. The sound of the meds hatch – the food hatch in his case – followed by the sound of broken glass and the loud closing of the hatch made him move quickly. His heart stopped when he saw a broken phial on the floor. The pieces of glass were drowning in a crimson fluid that could only be blood. Tegan was standing on the other side of the door in a hazmat suit. It confirmed Colin’s fear: this blood hadn’t arrived here by accident and the ventilation was off. Tegan had decided to take drastic steps. “Are you out of your mind?!” roared Colin. “I’m perfectly fine, thanks. You’re clever enough to know what this means.” “We don’t know how the virus infects people.” “Maybe. But breathing in infected fluids always proved itself to be efficient to spread a virus.” Colin furiously hit the security window of the door. It didn’t even tremble. Tegan didn’t even blink. The man had grown a pair and Colin was paying for everything he had made him go through. He had underestimated him and now he was a prisoner of a man who could kill him in a snap of his fingers. The monster was never the one we thought. “You know what you have to do if you want to survive this.” “I don’t know where she is!” “Liar!” “I swear I don’t know! Haven’t had any news in years. You can check on my computer! There’s everything about her researches in a folder!” “Access codes?” “The Master, 17453219.” Tegan noted it all and put the little notepad and pen back in his pocket. He took a few steps away and suddenly turned around. “By the way, it isn’t infected blood. Just some food colouring. Goodnight.” The muffled roar of rage he heard after this admission was enough to bring a smile on his bruised face. He wasn’t proud to have done this. It really wasn’t like him to do such a thing. If it hadn’t been Colin, he would have felt worse. But in time of war, you needed to be cleverer than the enemy and Colin obviously was the enemy in this situation.

x

Myrtle Appleton was no woman to die so easily. She was still outside despite the chaos she had created. Colin had let her down in her researches for her missing patient. When he had seen the mess she had created, he had told her that he would cover her in the precious lab he was working on and find a cure but he had never managed to do such a thing. If she herself hadn’t been able to find a cure, why would he? Anyway, this cure was hers to find. It was her researches, her problem. Even if the whole world was currently working on the Xeroderma, she wouldn’t let them get all the glory. Especially not this Doctor Colin was complaining about. What was his name already? His worst rival but also his boss… she couldn’t remember. Her cerebral activity had slowed down a little bit. That’s was her fault. Now that the world was such a mess, she could pursue her researches and not be worried about the consequences of the way she was working. She could pick a subject out there and run her tests. After all, that’s what they were all doing in their precious labs. She hadn’t seen many of them outside though but she had heard rumours about vans and soldiers wandering in the streets. She was staying hidden. She didn’t want them to find her. If they knew, if Colin had spoken… No, he wouldn’t betray her like that. Even if their intelligence made them real enemies, a certain honour code was present in their genes. As well as madness. It was a trait their mother had given to them. A mother who died after giving birth to Colin. They were raised by their father, a poor guy totally overwhelmed by the evil genius of his kids. They were teenagers when he ran away and left them to handle things on their own. Their passion for unconventional experiences was already there. Sciences weren’t the only fields where they had become experts. They were redoubtable separately but together they could be the worst criminals this country ever saw. They had never been caught thankfully. It was just small things. At least, for her, it was. Colin had done terrible things with her help and now she was feeling guilty for this. Maybe that was why she had done what she did. She was alone to survive out there and it wasn’t easy. Especially when you were dragging an emotional burden like hers. Watching all those zombies wandering around the town and dying one after another was reminding her of the death of her daughter twenty years ago. This death had made her who she was but it was also what made her regret all she did. Now it was time for redemption, time to pay for all of these shits she had done. She had infected herself with the original strain of this virus she had created. All she wanted at that moment was to disappear, to die, to meet with her daughter again. However, the virus had refused to work on her. She was clearly infected. Her blood was carrying the Xeroderma molecules and the cells of the foreign body were multiplying themselves in her. For some reasons though, she wasn’t developing any symptom. With the time passing by, she had noticed that one of her eyes had gone black and that her cerebral activity was slowing down. She was affected, just not in the way she had thought. It made her a living specimen willing to be a part of the researches as an object of study. Once again, it was an act of redemption. She had created this mess, she could be a part of the solution. She would assume all the consequences that would follow. She had looked for the still opened laboratories all around the country and she hadn’t been surprised to find out that the CRCD was the only one still in activity. The biggest lab of the country obviously had been the one chosen for the hard work of finding a cure. No wonder why Colin wanted to stay hidden here. He wanted all the glory for him and staying in this place was a first step. She hadn’t contacted him in months. He would be surprised to have her showing up to the CRCD. He would say that she was mad for sacrificing herself like this too but she wasn’t like him. She had a consciousness and it was bothering her more and more with the days passing by. He probably would never feel the weight of remorse and regrets but she did. In the end, she was the most human of them both. She always had been somehow. The dark silhouette of the huge laboratory showed up in the light of the sunset. It looked like a gigantic prison with all these walls and railings and doors with small hubs. There used to be guards in those hubs but the current times had forced them to run to a hiding place like everyone. The CRCD wasn’t vulnerable though. All the doors were firmly closed and if you weren’t a part of the lab, you couldn’t get the authorisation of getting in. She still didn’t know how she would get in but she would find a way. She walked through the deserted parking where the carcasses of hundreds of abandoned cars were waiting for owners that probably would never drive them ever again. She reached a post of control and used the intercom she found there to try to contact someone from the inside. She was quite anxious, but it wasn’t gonna stop her from doing the right thing for once. She got no answer from anyone even after long minutes of waiting. She tried again to be given the same results. She should have expected it though. They would all be on alert and their intercom had a camera. If they saw her black eye, they would think she was a sick person who found her way here. They certainly wouldn’t open to someone like her unless she gave them a reason to. They would come and see who she was and ask what she was doing here. The door was opened. A large enough opening to let a group of five armed guards aiming their guns at her appear. She raised her hands and sighed dramatically. “Shoot me in the heart if you really want me dead.” “Name and reason to be here.” “Oh, wow. They don’t teach you politeness in here.” She pointed her thumb on the CRCD. She was joking around to hide the fact that she was tensed. She wasn’t afraid of death. She was actually waiting for it. She would prefer avoiding such a violent death though. She wanted a clean one. She couldn’t be a hero but she could do a good thing before dying. “Name and reason to be here.” “Doctor Myrtle Appleton, Xeroderma Pigmentosum specialist. I wanna see your boss.” “Why?” “I doubt he or she is telling you everything about the current situation but I guess that if you tell him or her that I can be an excellent asset for their researches, he or she will be highly interested.” “You are infected.” “I know. I did it to myself.” “Go away. We’re not accepting the nightwalkers around here.” “I’m not an ordinary… Is that how you’re calling the sick people? Nightwalkers?” “Ma’am, we’re gonna have to shoot you if you don’t leave now.” “Tell your boss I’m Myrtle Appleton and that I’m the person who started this whole mess. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna be interested. Or she. Whatever gender they are.” The guards looked at each other briefly. They were taking her seriously. Perfect. She had managed to draw their attention on her. One of them stepped away to contact the lab and ask what they should do in the current situation. Her future and the future of the whole world were between the hands of this man in black.

x

Maxence had come out of his worrying condition but Zachary still wasn’t reassured. He was keeping his eyes on Maxence’s brain activity as recorded by the sensors in his blood. They were better than a couple hours ago but they weren’t good enough for his liking. He didn’t know much about neurology but he knew that what he was seeing wasn’t good. He was entering the data in their working space. Except for Liv who had come earlier because he was struggling to breathe, no one had seen it all yet. His condition was getting worse and worse. He already had a heart attack – provoked by a mistake but still – and his breathing wasn’t the best. Liv had added her own observations and they weren’t to reassure anyone. He was aware of the risks for him if he kept fighting but he was ignoring them. He was working on the cure as if nothing was happening to him. Right now, he was busy taking a test he had himself created from stuff Rose had told him. Pictures of people from his surroundings were scattered on the interactive wall and he was adding names to the faces he could see. A cerebral test he was forcing himself to do so he wouldn’t lose his skills. The disease was already reducing him to nothing and he hated it. He was refusing his condition and living as normally as he could. He was even forcing himself to eat when he wasn’t hungry at all. Beside his bed, there was a bowl full of Shreddies with a mix of fruits. Easy thing to nibble whenever he felt like it. He grabbed the bowl and did another test for his brain. He liked the fruity and fresh taste on his tongue. In the other cage, Liv was doing the last tests on Allegro. The first two tests she had made were negative. It meant that Allegro’s blood was sane again, that the little cells of the virus hadn’t survived. His body had been fighting the noctiagus and had rejected it. His blood was gonna be precious for the researches if the third test was negative. So the captain of the guards was rather anxious at this moment. “How can you be so fast in bringing me the results of my tests when it takes two days for a quarantine?” “A quarantine implies that several persons are under the tent. It takes more time to exclude each risk.” “It also gives more time to the virus to infect everyone.” “We’re always thinking that you’re all infected when you come back from town. We shouldn’t probably. We’ve been lucky so far.” “We shouldn’t push that luck too far.” “I don’t think we need to worry about this. You and Kyle might be the key we needed for that cure.” “Then, being locked here would have been useful.” “It saved you already. So it’s been quite useful yeah.” “I don’t consider myself as saved.” He pointed to the large bruise on his head that was a constant reminder that he had reacted to the virus at some point. It was frightening to think about it and this was why he was always pushing the thought away when it was coming back to him. He was holding on to the hope that he might be out of here soon. That was more than enough at the moment. He would have to find another motivation to go back to work when he would be allowed to. “Quite a day.” “Awful day for everyone.” The face Olivia was making was telling more to him than any word. His name hasn’t been mentioned but they both were thinking about the same man: Maxence Spitz who was locked in the cage just next to his. The black wall and the fact that the cages were soundproofed were keeping Allegro from knowing more than what he was told. “He was better last time I’ve seen Rose.” “His mind is fighting still. But his body is giving up on him.” “How long do you think he’s gonna hold on?” “Not much, I’m afraid.” Liv didn’t know how right she was. Maxence was trying to identify the person on the picture that was on the wall but the answer was lost in the mess of his mind. The answer was right there but he couldn’t access it and it was frustrating him. He rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. The headache was there already, he couldn’t avoid it anymore. He pressed a random answer on the screen but the computer refused to accept it although he was insisting on the ‘done’ button. What he thought was the ‘done’ button. It wasn’t very clear. His glasses were giving him a better sight but the noctiagus was destroying it. A sudden peak of pain hit his head and the bowl he was holding crashed to the ground. He pressed his hands on his head. The pain was unbearable. He stepped toward the bed and could only tangle his feet. His body wasn’t obeying him anymore. Neither did his mind. And the cold hard ground was the last thing he saw before the darkness won over him…

To be continued...

Ghost of you © | 2017 - 2019 | Tous droits réservés.

×××

In the next chapter:

The thought of Maxence dying forced Jack to stop speaking for a moment. He didn’t turn off the recording. He just needed a moment to breathe deeply and pull himself back together. He looked down, moved away, took deep breaths. Maxence being infected was a hard blow on him but there still was that hope to save him. Maxence fighting the virus had been a good thing at first but now… he was dying and Jack couldn’t handle that. He was putting his brace face on when he had to face everyone but deep down… deep down, he wished for this nightmare to be over. With all the geniuses gathered in this place, how could this cure still be unreachable?

×××

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English version:

AO3 || FF || TS || Wattpad.

[sleepingatthetwilight]

HTGAWM 5.05

I have to say I just love the way this show is structured. The flash-forwards revealing the coming disaster small pieces at a time, and putting those together week by week, is one of the most fun parts of the show for me.

And I enjoy when the show employs this kind of nonlinear episode as well--giving us a mini-flash-forward to the end of the episode, giving us a deliberate misdirect before revealing the outcome. It’s fun sorting out the timeline, separating misdirects from clues. If there is one thing this show is great at, it’s building and maintaining tension, and even when the situations are outrageous, I enjoy them.

Other thoughts!

Connor continues to fall apart. Really, he’s been crumbling since the end of season 3. I will not be at all surprised if his facial injuries in the flash forward turn out to be from him straight up picking a fight with someone.

I’ve been all over the map on how much I like Bonnie as a person but I’ve always liked her as a character. I especially like her this season. I love that in the midst of what is obviously a resurgence of her trauma, she is able to get up and go seek answers from Nate. She deserves that much and it’s good to see her exercising agency even when she’s in a very bad place.

I was really blinking about Michaela and Asher, going, Did they get back together offscreen?? until we found out what they were really up to. Like I said, I kind of enjoy the misdirection, especially since I don’t always catch them.

Do Frank and Ron... know each other? 

And then... that flash-forward. Oh, Asher. You are making great decisions, I see.

Theory-wise, I’m still holding fast to Gabriel being Laurel’s half-brother. I think he is deliberately trying to get close to her, but not for romantic reasons, and I think any appearance of teasing that ship is a misdirect.

Based on what we have seen in the flash-forwards so far, I think Oliver will be revealed alive just before the midseason finale. Most likely candidates for the blood in the snow, based on Annalise’s devastation, I would say are Tegan or Nate. I suspect we are going to see continued relationship development between Annalise and Tegan leading up to the midseason.

But I see another possibility--that the person in the snow isn’t dead at all, just suffering from a serious bloody nose--and that it’s Connor. Based on Connor’s consistently poor mental state lately, I can imagine him saying or doing something to provoke someone, maybe even Bonnie, to take a swing at him at his own wedding. Especially if that something was being irresponsible with Christopher. If she’d gotten angry enough to punch Connor in the face, Bonnie might not want to make things worse by telling Laurel and Michaela what had happened. But that’s just one possibility. I always like to consider ways in which things might not be as they seem.

Until next week!

[whovianfeminism]

Whovian Feminism Reviews “Twice Upon A Time”

Letting go is always the hardest part. And yet, letting go is how this show survives. We have to let go of Doctors and companions, TARDIS windows and sonic devices, and producers and showrunners to let new ones come in. It’s how Doctor Who has survived for 54 years. Change and go on, or die as we are, as the Doctor would say. But it doesn’t make saying goodbye any easier. "Twice Upon a Time” gave us an episode filled with both sadness and hope, a perfect balance between a heartfelt goodbye to Peter Capaldi and a generous welcome to Jodie Whittaker.

To prepare for this historic regeneration, we’re brought all the way back to another iconic regeneration -- the very first one. After playing William Hartnell himself in An Adventure in Space and Time, David Bradley returns to Doctor Who to play the First Doctor in “Twice Upon A Time.” His portrayal of the First Doctor is incredibly well done, recreating the feel of Hartnell’s performance while also providing his own subtle interpretation of the role. In the unseen moments between the First Doctor’s escape from the Cyberman ship and his regeneration in the TARDIS, Steven Moffat slips in a story about how he, too, might have resisted regeneration.

Although it doesn’t quite break the fourth wall, I can’t recall an episode of Doctor Who that acknowledges quite as much as “Twice Upon a Time” that we are, in fact, watching a television show. The “Previously...” opener doesn’t just show us an abbreviated version of “The Tenth Planet,” it tells us that it took place 709 episodes ago. Black and white footage from “Tenth Planet” is show in its original, smaller dimensions before it beautifully transitions from Hartnell’s Doctor to Bradley’s Doctor, in color and in modern television dimensions. 

There’s also a bit of a retrospective on the era and the actor which influenced the character of the First Doctor. Though this is a show about an alien time traveller, Doctor Who has always been a product of the people of its time, and has reflected their biases and prejudices. This was something that Steven Moffat was very aware of when writing his version of Hartnell’s Doctor. He told SFX magazine that the First Doctor reflected "old fashioned attitudes” in ways that stand out to modern audiences but were “normal and invisible” at the time. And instead of ignoring that, he tried to embrace it and confront it head on. 

The first Doctor has several astounding moments that lay his sexism bare in “Twice Upon A Time,” several of which are grounded in comments and actions from previous stories. The First Doctor threatens to give Bill a “jolly good smacked bottom,” which is exactly what he threatened Susan with in “The Dalek Invasion of Earth” (a line which Hartnell may have improvised himself). And the First Doctor mentions to both the Twelfth Doctor and Bill about how he expects female companions to clean up the TARDIS and fetch him things. That moment is handled much better than a similar one from “The Five Doctors,” where the Fifth Doctor asks a very offended Tegan to “humor” the First Doctor when he makes a similar demand of her.

Although I understand and appreciate what Moffat was attempting to do, I have to admit that after the fourth or fifth sexist comment it began to feel overplayed. His point could have been made with just one or two lines. Eventually, they began to actively detract from my enjoyment of “Twice Upon a Time.” The last thing I wanted to hear in the episode introducing Jodie Whittaker was two men sniggering over how all women are made of glass, even if they were clearly in the wrong. Hartnell and the First Doctor were hardly progressive, and it’s perfectly reasonable to want to address that. But to have some of the worst moments of that era of Doctor Who thrown so frequently in your face was just exhausting. 

And yet, I have to admit there might be a generational difference here. I later watched "Twice Upon a Time" with my mother, who's just one year younger than Moffat, and she actually appreciated those moments. She grew up watching the same era of television as Moffat did, and remembered just how pervasive and accepted those sexist attitudes and comments were. These types of comments were already outrageously outdated and caricaturish by the time I was watching television in the 90s. But they were the background radiation of the media my mom consumed at a young age -- a poison in the foundation of our current media that we are still, generations later, trying to clear out. She felt it was important to have those moments called out for what they were, instead of letting them be swept away and forgotten. 

And she felt that those moments perhaps revealed the endemic bigotry that kept a woman Doctor from being able to come forward earlier. Is it really believable that an alien time traveller would believe it is appropriate to spank a grown woman or would be befuddled by lesbians? No. Is it also believable that an alien capable of totally changing their physical appearance has only ever appeared as a white man? No. But did we really need to belabor the point and escalate the problematic comments? From my perspective, no. 

Between three Doctors and two regenerations, we hardly have any time for Bill Potts, who makes a re-appearance to help urge the Doctor towards regenerating. Although it’s always a delight to have Pearl Mackie back on our screens, Bill is unfortunately not much more than a plot device in “Twice Upon a Time.” She’s used as a tool by the Testimony to either manipulate or understand the Doctor. She asks the right questions so the Doctors can provide us with exposition. And she’s there to put in the emotional labor to convince the Twelfth Doctor that he should regenerate. Bill does have moments of charm but ... that’s it. Moments. In the end, nothing much has changed since “The Doctor Falls.” She still lacks a satisfying story arc that is wholly her own, and exists almost entirely to further the Doctor’s arc. It makes me long even more for the next season of Doctor Who, where a woman will be the lead protagonist and a woman of color will be one of her companions, and it will be much harder to make their stories center around white male characters.

But for the time being, this is still Peter Capaldi’s story, and I cannot begrudge him the incredible ending that he so justly deserved. The man who was introduced as the Doctor while holding his lapels in an imitation of Hartnell ends his tenure by encouraging the First Doctor towards regeneration. The man who began by creating a “darker, less user-friendly” Doctor lands on his defining ethos: “Be kind.”

There is fear and sadness here, too. Regenerating isn’t dying, but it is an ending, and both of the Doctors are afraid of what comes next. The First is afraid of who he might become. The Twelfth is afraid that he might never leave the battlefield. But they still get another chance at life — which is why it is so very fitting to put them up against a British Army Captain from WWI, who is facing a very real and very final death. He was resigned to his death, until the Doctors accidentally gave him hope. Now he’s had time to think about everything he will lose, and he is afraid.

But kindness underlies everything. The Doctor pushes time forward to save a stranger’s life, relying on the simple and yet extraordinary kindness two armies showed each other in the middle of a brutal war. That selfless act of kindness gives the First Doctor the courage and conviction to regenerate. The Testimony allows the Twelfth Doctor to see his companions one last time and restores his memories of Clara Oswald, giving him peace. But it is one more call for help, one more act of kindness, that finally convinces the Twelfth Doctor he must regenerate. 

His final triumphant speech epitomized the Twelfth Doctor, and the man who played him. Peter Capaldi will be remembered above all for being one of the kindest, most generous actors to ever pilot the TARDIS. He understands intimately what it is like to be a fan of the show, and what the Doctor means to so many. He was generous with his time and went the extra mile to show his appreciation. And he never, ever gave a condescending answer to children. His final lines about how children can hear the Doctor’s name came directly from his answer to a young fan at an episode screening. 

I’ll admit that I have never before cried at a Doctor’s regeneration. During Capaldi’s, I sobbed. Bill was right — the hardest part of knowing the Doctor is letting him go.

Enormous credit has to be given to Rachel Talalay for creating such a gorgeous episode. I feel like I say that every time I review one of her episodes, and yet it has never been more true. She faced such a variety of challenges in this episode, from faithfully recreating scenes from the 1966 story “The Tenth Planet” to a grim and damp WW1 battlefield, from spaceships and glass ladies to explosions galore. And never is an opportunity wasted to turn what could be a simple scene into a work of art. When the two Doctors first meet at the South Pole, the scene is infused with the shifting, changing blues and greens of the Aurora Australis. When the Twelfth Doctor is considering whether or not to regenerate, the sky is filled with a fading golden light.

And never has a regeneration been quite as incredible as Jodie Whittaker’s. Most regenerations are efficient -- one Doctor burns or fades (or sneezes) into the next, and he plunges straight into a new adventure. But Whittaker is revealed in a mix of intimate glimpses and long, slow shots. We see her lit from behind, standing amongst smoke and light. We see her stumbling to see her own reflection, our first glimpse of regeneration from the Doctor’s perspective. Each scene, beautiful on its own, builds up our anticipation until we finally get our first full reveal of the Thirteenth Doctor. It’s a regeneration that will be remembered as being truly iconic.

Steven Moffat may never have cast a woman to play the Doctor himself, but he has been laying the groundwork within the narrative of the show for a woman Doctor for a very long time. And in an episode that could’ve been focused solely on memorializing Capaldi and Moffat’s time on the show, they both instead provided an incredible generous welcome to Jodie Whittaker.

“Twice Upon a Time” is, above all, a story about letting go. The First Doctor believes it is courageous to simply live and die as himself, but it is later revealed to be fear — and perhaps vanity and selfishness too. The viewers know, from seeing all the Doctors who have followed, that he has so much left to do. There are so many adventures to be had, planets to be saved, and friends waiting to be known. Things can’t end with the First Doctor.

But it’s not just the Doctor who needs to hear this —it’s the viewers too. We all have favorite eras and favorite Doctors, and that’s okay. But some fans go even further to say that the show should have ended after their favorite time or Doctor, as if because they got no enjoyment out of what followed that it held no value for anyone else. To end the story now, to deny all those stories that are waiting to be told, is selfishness.

Some are just nervous or afraid about what comes next. And that’s okay. I won’t deny I’m nervous about what the future holds too. But “Twice Upon a Time” has a message for us too — this is a chance worth taking. We wouldn’t have Peter Capaldi if someone didn’t take a chance on Patrick Troughton, or all the men who followed him. 

Jodie Whittaker is a chance worth taking. 

The Doctor has to grow and change, or the show will die. This is a change that brings the character forward into a new and exciting direction. This opens up a whole new universe of stories, and gives another wonderful actor a chance to define the role. And it gives a whole new generation of young girls and boys a new hero to look up to.

In one beautifully delightful moment, we get a glimpse of Jodie Whittaker and the Doctor she might be. And I cannot wait to see where we go from here. 

[headcanonsandmore]

‘Reunion’, Chapter Four

Summary:  Tegan and Nyssa arrive back on Earth, but will living together in a small apartment with *shock* only one bed bring them closer together? In our concluding chapter, we find out...

Tagging: @lady-sci-fi @evilqueenofgallifrey @serenbex @i-am-bored 

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                          Read on FFN.                             Read on AO3.

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Tegan took Nyssa’s hand and the two of them stepped out of the TARDIS doors. Sure enough, here was Tegan’s living room. Complete with the mess she’d made whilst trying to find the TARDIS phone number.

‘Doctor, is this the same day as you arrived?’

‘You sound surprised,’ the Doctor said, stepping out onto the carpet.

‘Well, after what you were like with getting me back to Heathrow.’

The Doctor put a hand to his chest in mock outrage, before letting out a bark of laughter.

It had been a difficult departure for Nyssa. They didn’t know when next she would see Adric and Neeka, but that didn’t stop it feeling so… final. Tegan hoped that the Doctor could help them visit Nyssa in the future. Wait, their future? The future respective to this time period? God, time travel was so confusing!

‘Doctor?’

‘Hmmm?’

Nyssa stepped forward, still holding Tegan’s hand.

‘I think you need to find someone,’ she said, simply. ‘You’ve been on your own for a long time, haven’t you?’

The Doctor stared at her, and gave a curt nod.

His eyes lingered on Nyssa and Tegan’s intertwined hands. He smiled, the skin crinkling around his eyes.

‘I best be off, then; places to see, planets to save-’

‘Wait, you’re going already?’ Tegan interrupted. ‘We’ve only just got back.’

The Doctor smiled in a very knowing way, and Tegan felt her face flush. Bollocks. He knew. 

He bloody knew the way Tegan felt for Nyssa.

‘I think you two have some catching up to do,’ he said. ‘Besides, you’ve got the TARDIS number now; just call me whenever you like.’

‘O-okay, then,’ Tegan said, suddenly even more aware of Nyssa’s hand intertwined with hers.

‘Bye, then, it’s been… fantastic to see you both again,’ the Doctor said, waving quickly. ‘Until next time.’

Tegan and Nyssa smiled at him, and the Doctor stepped back into the TARDIS.

The blue door shut. A few seconds later, the sound of ancient chains creaking began to emanate out from the police box, and the TARDIS dematerialised.

‘He never was good with farewells, was he?’

‘No,’ Nyssa said, looking around them. ‘So… is this your home?’

‘Er, yeah; sorry about the mess,’ Tegan said, awkwardly piling a stack of old diaries back into a drawer and then bending down to pick up a bunch of letters. ‘I was in a rush to find the TARDIS number and-’

The letters tumbled out of her arms and scattered across the floor.

Smiling, Nyssa bent down next to Tegan and began to help clear up the mess.

Nyssa’s fingers grazed hers, and the two women turned to look at each other. Tegan felt her heartrate increase. She’d been trying to avoid thinking about it but… they were alone now. No military dictators or crazy time lords. Just her and Nyssa. For the first time in over two decades-

‘Do you moisturise your hands often, Tegan?’

‘Er…’ Tegan said, pulling herself together. ‘I guess. Why?’

‘I just…’ Nyssa said, before linking their fingers together. ‘I just thought your hands were really soft.’

Tegan swallowed. This was bad.

‘T-thanks,’ she said, standing up. ‘Let me show you around the place…’

Nyssa nodded, and stood up as well, following Tegan across the room.

Tegan pushed open the door in front of her.

One large double bed. Why did she suddenly feel so flustered? She wasn’t some blushing teenager; she was in her forties!

‘You… you can take my bed,’ Tegan said, quickly. ‘I’ll sleep on the sofa for the time being.’

‘Oh,’ Nyssa replied. ‘I mean… if you’re sure.’

Tegan nodded.

                                                                *

 That had been a mistake.

It was several hours later. Tegan couldn’t sleep. She had tried telling herself that her lack of sleep was due to sleeping on the sofa, but she knew it wasn’t true. It was because Nyssa was sleeping in the next room.

A room that had the door open.

Sighing softly, Tegan climbed off the sofa, intending to head over to the kitchen. However, halfway through-

‘Tegan?’

Her eyes immediately snapped sideways into the bedroom. Nyssa was sat up in bed, just visible in the half-light.

‘Sorry,’ Tegan whispered, stepping into the room. ‘Didn’t mean to wake you. Just getting some warm milk.’

‘It did always help you sleep,’ Nyssa said, smiling.

‘You remembered?’

‘Of course,’ Nyssa replied. ‘I couldn’t forget. You always slept well after a cup of warm milk and me singing-’

Nyssa cut off, her cheeks reddening.

Of course. The Traken love song.

‘You… you can sing it again, Nys.’

Nyssa looked up, startled.

‘Are… are you sure?’

Tegan nodded, smiling softly.

Nyssa patted the bed next to her. Tegan didn’t move, feeling her pulse race.

‘We have slept in the same bed in the past,’ Nyssa said, as if to allay Tegan’s worries. ‘And I can sing to you this way.’

Tegan had a brief mental battle, but she couldn’t stop herself climbing under the covers and snuggling down next to the last daughter of Traken.

‘Nyssa?’

‘Hmmm?’

‘Thanks.’

‘Whatever for?’

Tegan smiled.

‘Just… being you.’

There was a slight pause.

‘I… thank you, Tegan.’

‘No worries.’

Nyssa seemed to clear her throat, and began to sing.

‘The stars of a thousand systems… the bulb of the smallest flower…’

Immediately, Tegan began to relax. God, she had missed this.

Tegan slowly drifted off, the sound of Nyssa’s voice lulling her gently into the most restful sleep she’d had in… roughly two decades, at least.

                                                              *

 Tegan yawned, and opened her eyes, stretching out slightly in bed. It was then that she realised who she had been sharing the bed with. Sitting up in bed quickly, Tegan realised that Nyssa wasn’t there.

But, she could hear noises coming from the general direction of the kitchen. Tegan climbed out of bed and followed them.

As she entered the kitchen, she was stocked to discover that Nyssa was stood in the centre, hands awkwardly crossed around her back as she fumbled with the apron she was trying to do up. Numerous recipe books were opened on the kitchen counters.

‘Nys?’

Nyssa startled, her hands tangled up with the apron strings. Her face had turned red.

‘Ah, Tegan!’ she said, as if trying to draw the conversation away from how Tegan had found her. ‘You’re awake; did you sleep well?’

‘Brilliantly, actually. Er…’ Tegan said, stepping forward. ‘Need a hand with that apron?’

Nyssa nodded, looking acutely embarrassed.

Tegan smiled, and began to do up the apron strings.

‘So… any reason for wanting to put this on? Or why half my recipe books are open?’

‘Well…’ Nyssa said, hesitantly. ‘You’ve let me stay in your home and I wanted to make it up to you by… cooking something. Only… I don’t know many earth recipes.’

Tegan finally finished with the apron strings and Nyssa turned to face her.

‘You know you don’t need to worry about that, Nys,’ Tegan said, softly. ‘But… we can make something together, if you like?’

Nyssa’s face lit up.

‘Really?’

‘Course; I haven’t baked in a while but I’m sure we rustle up a Victoria sponge cake between us.’

‘Do earth people normally eat cake for breakfast? That doesn’t seem healthy.’

Tegan chuckled. Nyssa had always been so… earnest about these things.

‘That is true. But… hey, it’s your first full day living here; we should celebrate it.’

Nyssa smiled, and nodded.

A few minutes later, they were pouring flour through a sieve into a large bowl. The two of them were laughing as they tried to stop the flour covering the kitchen counter around the bowl.

‘Stop wiggling,’ Tegan laughed. ‘You’re gonna make me drop it!’

‘Oh, I won’t!’ Nyssa giggled in return, her hand coming to rest on Tegan’s arm. Unfortunately, it was the arm carrying the packet of flour.

The flour hit the floor, and a cloud of the powder erupted, covering both Nyssa and Tegan.

‘Sorry!’ Tegan said, blinking the stuff out of her eyes. ‘Nys, are you-’

But Nyssa was laughing. The flour had stuck to her curly brown hair, making her look as if she’d gotten stuck in a snowstorm. Tegan’s breath caught in her throat. God, Nyssa looked cute.

‘Is baking a cake normally this fun?’

Tegan smiled.

‘It is if you’re baking it with the right person.’

Nyssa’s cheeks flushed again.

‘And I am the right person?’

‘No one better.’

The two of them shared a smile, before they got back to making the cake.

A few hours later, they were tucking into slices of the sponge cake. Nyssa hadn’t tried Earth food in several decades, and she was clearly enjoying the experience. Her mouth was lined with sugar and jam, which Tegan found too adorable to mention to her.

‘Tasty?’

‘Very much so,’ Nyssa replied, smiling widely. ‘We didn’t really have baking on Terminus, and I was so busy with my work, you see.’

‘No baking? That’s a shame. The next time Neeka and Adric visit, I’ll help you all bake something.’

Nyssa’s face lit up.

‘Really?’

‘Course,’ Tegan replied, smiling. ‘Besides, I’m happy I can help you enjoy Earth food again. Amsterdam was the last place we had cake, wasn’t it?’

‘Oh, yes! Have you been there since?’

‘Once on holiday a few years ago; my friend Babs got married to her girlfriend there and…’

Tegan trailed off. However, Nyssa didn’t seem to notice.

‘I love a nice wedding,’ she said, smiling. ‘A day of joy for people in love is always wonderful to behold.’

‘Er, yeah,’ Tegan said. Well, there was no harm in checking, surely? ‘So… the whole women-marrying-women thing isn’t a shock for you?’

Nyssa blinked, looking confused.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Why? Is that unusual on earth?’

‘Well, a lot of people still don’t like the idea of it.’

‘I can’t imagine why,’ Nyssa said. ‘If people are in love, what is there to complain about?’

Tegan stared at her for a moment, before smiling.

‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re too sweet for words, Nys?’

Nyssa’s cheeks seemed to flush as she went back to eating her slice of cake.

                                                             *

 It was that evening. Although they hadn’t really discussed it, Nyssa had assumed that Tegan would be sleeping in the double bed with her. And Tegan… well, Tegan couldn’t of a single good reason why she couldn’t. After all, they had both slept really well the previous night.  But Tegan’s brain knew several reasons why she really shouldn’t. Most of them involving the fact that, without exhaustion, she wouldn’t be able to sleep much with Nyssa lying next to her.  

Tegan felt Nyssa slip under the sheets beside her. Calm down, she told herself, don’t overthink things… Nyssa isn’t aware of how this might be construed on Earth-

Nyssa curled up behind Tegan and slipped her hand over the Australians waist, so that their bodies were close together.

Tegan felt her heartrate rapidly accelerate.

‘Any… any particular reason why you’re spooning me?’

‘Is that what this is called on earth?’

Tegan nodded.

‘Not really,’ Nyssa replied. ‘I can move if you would prefer I didn’t.’

‘No,’ Tegan said, softly. ‘It’s… nice.’

‘Good.’

There was a pause.

‘Thank you, Tegan,’ Nyssa whispered, causing gooseflesh to erupt up Tegan’s neck. ‘It means so much to me that you’ve let me stay here, even if it just for a little while-’

‘I’d happily have you stay with me forever if you wanted to.’

There was a billowing silence. The seconds seemed to stretch into years as Tegan realised what she had just said, and the implications that laid therein.

‘What… what do you mean by that?’

Tegan swallowed, and turned over, sitting up in bed.

‘I mean…’ she said, looking into the middle distance. ‘You can stay here with me. Not just as a guest.’

She turned and looked at Nyssa, who was staring up at her, balanced on one elbow.

‘I missed you for two decades, Nys. I… I couldn’t bear to lose you again.’

Nyssa’s eyes were wide in the half-light as she sat up next to Tegan.

‘Tegan… I couldn’t bear to leave you either,’ Nyssa whispered, leaning forward to place her free hand on Tegan’s. ‘You’re my best friend and I love you very much.’

Tegan’s mouth dropped open.

WHAT?!

What… that couldn’t mean what she thought it meant, right? Nyssa must have surely meant it in a platonic sense! Except… except…

Nyssa’s face was now burning red. She had clearly not been expecting to say that, but the words had tumbled out regardless.

It wasn’t just platonic.

Tegan stared as the magnitude of Nyssa’s words washed over her. Nyssa, her best friend, the woman she had loved before Tegan had realised she loved women was… in love with her.

Suddenly, the puzzle pieces slotted together in Tegan’s brain. The Traken love song, Nyssa telling her children so much about Tegan, Nyssa being so flustered when Neeka and Adric had mentioned this to Tegan…

‘I’m sorry,’ Nyssa said, quickly. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything, I understand that you don’t see me in the same way-’

‘Are you bloody blind, Nys?’ Tegan said, grabbing her by the arm. ‘Of course I do!’

‘W-what?’ Nyssa gasped, her eyes briefly darting down to where Tegan’s hand was holding onto her. ‘Tegan, whatever do you mean?’

‘I mean I bloody well love you, Nyssa!’ Tegan exclaimed. ‘I’ve loved you since the day we first met. How could I not have?’

Nyssa stared.

‘R-really?’

‘Yes!’ Tegan said, letting out a bark of laughter. ‘Rabbits, I’ve been so thick with you! I’m sorry, I should have told you all those years ago, but I was too scared!’

‘Scared?’

‘You’re Nyssa of Traken; the level-headed scientist and voice of reason! Smart, kind, sweet and all-around amazing! I’m just… Tegan, the mouth on legs who wandered into the TARDIS one day. I didn’t even know if people from Traken liked people of the same gender in that way! I… I didn’t think you’d ever see me as anything other than a friend!’

‘Tegan!’ Nyssa said, shocked. ‘How can you say that about yourself?’

‘What, about me being a mouth on legs? That’s all I’ve ever been, Nys-’

Tegan lost her train of thought because, at that moment, Nyssa leaned across the few inches of space between them and pressed her lips against Tegan’s. The Australians brain seemed to momentarily halt in place, replaced by a blissful nothingness. The world could have ended around them and Tegan wouldn’t have noticed. All she could focus on was Nyssa’s lips against her own, and her distinctive Nyssa scent enveloping Tegan’s sense, and the way Nyssa’s eyes had fluttered shut as she deepened the kiss.

Tegan was so startled that she didn’t even get round to kissing her in return before Nyssa pulled back.

‘W-what?’

‘Now do you believe me?’ Nyssa said, opening her eyes. Tegan was shocked to see tears trickling out of them. ‘Don’t you dare be so harsh on yourself, Tegan; you’re amazing and you shouldn’t keep assuming you aren’t. I… I love you, Tegan Jovanka.’

Tegan put her arms around Nyssa, pulling her into an embrace.

‘And I love you, Nyssa of Traken. I bloody love you.’

‘And, as for being a mouth on legs,’ Nyssa said. ‘I rather like your mouth. And… and your legs, it has to be said.’

Tegan goggled at her.

‘Nys, are you… flirting with me?’

‘Well, I was just kissing you, Tegan; I would have thought the evidence was irrefutable.’

Tegan let out a bark of laughter and leaned back against the pillows.

‘I suppose,’ Nyssa said, laying down and leaning into Tegan’s side. ‘I can openly sing the Traken love song now with its original intention.’

Tegan let out a laugh and pressed a kiss to Nyssa’s forehead. The sun was now peeking through the blinds, signalling the start of a brand new day. Only it was also a brand new life.

A life for the two of them to share.

‘Remind me how that song goes again?’

Nyssa smiled.

‘You must know the words off by heart now,’ she said. ‘I’ve sung it enough times to you.’

‘Humour me,’ Tegan replied. ‘For old times’ sake.’

‘Only if you kiss me after each line.’

Tegan wrapped her arms around Nyssa, squeezing her. And, as she had once done in the room aboard the TARDIS, Nyssa began to sing the song from her home planet. Tegan closed her eyes and smiled, Nyssa in her arms.

Together again. At last.

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Thank you for reading, everyone; I hope you enjoyed the concluding chapter of my very first Tegan/Nyssa fic! Thank you again to all the lovely people who've left such wonderful and supportive comments; you are all amazing and it's been such a delight to see your enthusiasm for this fic (I was initially concerned about writing, as Tegan/Nyssa is my favourite classic Who pairing and I wanted to do them justice).

As for the future, stay tuned for my next Tegan/Nyssa fic, which is going to be... historical in nature. Hope you like it!

[aion-rsa]

Doctor Who: Ranking the Dalek Stories – Which is the Best?

https://ift.tt/2ZLI4i2

“… hideous, machine-like creatures. They are legless, moving on a round base. They have no human features. A lens on a flexible shaft acts as an eye, arms with mechanical grips for hands.” Terry Nation’s script for ‘The Survivors’ (aka ‘The Daleks’ Part Two)

The Daleks, along with Judge Dredd, are fictional fascists beloved by a wide audience. At their heart is a combination of terrifying concept – Nazis who always return (imagine) – with a triumph of design. The greatest Dalek stories tap into this uneasy alliance.

A quick summary of the thinking behind this article:

A. We thought people would enjoy it.

B. If a story features the Daleks in a small cameo role, I’ve not included it (for example, ‘Frontier in Space’, ‘The Wedding of River Song’, ‘The Pilot’). I’ve removed ‘The Day of the Doctor’ and ‘The Time of the Doctor’: it seems silly to rate them based on their Dalek content.

The rankings are not based purely on how entertaining I find the stories, but also on how the Daleks are used and developed, the Doctor’s response to them and what that says (within both the larger context of the show’s history and the stories surrounding it). As this only covers television stories, I should mention that I think the best Dalek story of all time is the Big Finish audioplay ‘Jubilee’ by Rob Shearman, which you should know as little as possible about before listening to.

24. Planet of the Daleks

Having not seen this until its DVD release, I don’t have any residual affection for this story from childhood (unlike other stories on this list; I thought ‘Resurrection of the Daleks’ was great when I was nine).

‘Planet’comes across as lazy now. To be fair to Terry Nation, no one could rewatch episodes in 1972, and so his first script for the show since 1965 drew heavily on his old stories. The result is a rote traipse through the familiar.

It’s not without positives: The Doctor’s grief and rage when he thinks Jo is dead is very well acted, although the oft quoted “Courage isn’t just a matter of not being frightened” line works better in isolation than in the actual scene, which feels like HR has invited Jon Pertwee in to do a motivational seminar.

23. Destiny of the Daleks

Terry Nation’s final script for Doctor Who clashed with Script Editor Douglas Adams. Adams tried to zest up what he regarded as tired Nation standards (including radiation poisoning, overambitious monsters, a rare mineral, a quest, things named after their primary characteristic, invisible monsters, jungle planets, aggressive vegetation, flaky Daleks, unfortunate comedy episodes and plagues). The lack of budget is obvious, with knackered Dalek props and an ill-fitting Davros mask (actor David Gooderson also cannot lift Davros’ generic villain dialogue).

Some jokes land (‘Ooh look! Rocks!’) as does some of the Mild Peril (Episode 3’s cliff-hanger especially), but the story about inertia reflects its subject. K9 doesn’t appear because Nation didn’t want him to distract from the Daleks, then reduces them to impotent robots in thrall to their creator anyway.

22. Daleks in Manhattan/ Evolution of the Daleks

It’s not that this re-treads ideas from ‘Evil of the Daleks’, or that the science strains credulity even by Doctor Who standards, it’s that this story feels strangely perfunctory despite its ambitions. This is a shame because there are some great moments in the first episode where the Daleks plot, skulk and lament. It feels salvageable, but Russell T. Davies was ill and unable to perform his usual rewrites on the scripts, and the result feels like ticking off items on a Tenth Doctor Bingo card.

We do get the mental image of the Cult of Skaro sneaking around 1920s New York trying to kidnap a pig though, so you can’t say that it’s all bad.

21. The Chase

‘The Chase’ starts off well and cosy. Terry Nation sets the initial action on a desert planet called Aridius where some aliens from RADA are menaced by a giant ballbag. The regulars are all enjoying themselves. Then we getawkward comedy skits, a poorly judged trip to the Marie Celeste, and a sequence in a haunted house where everyone is stupid for some reason. The momentum never fully recovers from this.

Giving the Daleks time travel to pursue the TARDIS is an important development, and it’s a fantastic set for the interior, but the middle of this story lets it down.

20. Resurrection of the Daleks

From this point on, using the Daleks required approval by Terry Nation or his estate. Nation had been unsatisfied by other writers’ version of the Daleks, which is quite the take, and refused to allow another writer to tackle them until a convention appearance changed his mind. Nation’s feedback on an Eric Saward script meant that the story was revised and became overfull to satisfy both writers’ visions.

A delay in production gave time for streamlining, but nonetheless ‘Resurrection’ is messy and ultimately doesn’t seem very interested in the Daleks (focussing again on Davros and Saward’s mercenary characters). Indeed, the Daleks here seem even weaker than in ‘Destiny’, relying on mercenaries to take over Davros’ prison ship and being insecure enough to give them little Dalek decorations on their helmets.

In its defence, Matthew Robinson directs it with gusto, somewhere in there is a critique of its own violence, and Tegan’s departure is excellent.

19. Revolution of the Daleks

This is not a story that uses the Daleks on more than one level, and yet also possibly the nearest thing its era gets to political satire. We have someone using the remains of a Dalek to build security drones, associating a representation of fascism with law enforcement and connecting it to government, but the story moves away from this idea into cloned Dalek mutants hijack the drones and kill people, and then the original Daleks turn up to kill them because they’re not genetically pure. The Doctor’s solution to the remaining Daleks is good, but while this one doesn’t do anything outrageously wrong, it doesn’t do anything especially right either.

18. Resolution

Likewise, this story is just sort of there, like Shed Seven or thrush. The Daleks have a new form of controlling people, with the mutant wearing them like the title creatures from ‘Planet of the Spiders’ (as strong an image as it was in 1975) and the DIY Dalek shell mirrors the Doctor’s rebuilding of the sonic screwdriver.

The Dalek also demonstrates its firepower quite impressively, but contrasting this with ‘Dalek’ shows what’s missing: this doesn’t have anything like the personal stakes of that story, and so we have some pulpy and familiar thrills but little depth.

17. Into the Dalek

The main job of ‘Into the Dalek’ isn’t getting under the skin of the Daleks, but setting up the Series 8 arcs. We have a good Dalek, which turns out to have a damaged inhibitor allowing it to feel compassion, and a Fantastic Voyage-style journey through its interior. This lacks existential dread (in contrast to Clara being trapped inside a Dalek during ‘The Witch’s Familiar’), but Ben Wheatley directs the Daleks in combat extremely well.

It’s very busy, ambitious and patchy: the gag where the Doctor keeps finding Clara unattractive gets old quickly, the dialogue is of variable quality, and everyone has to be stupid for the plot to happen. There’s an interesting story to be had about a broken Dalek and the Doctor’s response to it, but this isn’t it.

16. Victory of the Daleks

Another riff on a Troughton-era story, in this case ‘Power of the Daleks’, this is easier to criticise now separate from the outcry over the New Paradigm design.

And it is… okay. The twist that the Doctor’s hatred of Daleks is what progresses their plan is a better use of this than the usual abyss-gazing. The Daleks win, but this doesn’t land with sufficient weight as the meat of the ending is given over to the ongoing series arc.

It’s a hybrid of Dalek event story and Companion Proves Themselves (with all the iconography of Churchill, World War Two and the Daleks) and is so by necessity somewhat pat in its resolution. Also, by Printing the Legend of Churchill a more interesting story is compressed into the line “If Hitler invaded hell I would give a favourable reference to the Devil”.

Putting aside the Dalek designs, which didn’t work for most people, this story fulfils a function and attempts to disguise this amiably enough.

15. Death to the Daleks

This is a story that, thanks to it being four parts rather than six, we could afford on video. I can’t say for sure how much this impacts my preferring it to ‘Planet of the Daleks’, but I do think it stands out slightlyfrom other Terry Nation stories despite the familiar elements (rare minerals, quests, a first episode featuring just the regulars). 

Carey Blyton’s score, along with Arnold Yarrow’s performance as Bellal, has an endearing quirkiness. There are little flourishes like the Daleks using a model TARDIS for target practice, and the Doctor’s melancholy at the destruction of the city. Its oddness occasionally overcomes the quaintness of Nation’s approach to Doctor Who, which doesn’t seem to have changed since 1965.

14. Army of Ghosts/ Doomsday

Having successfully brought the Daleks back, Russell T. Davies held off on using them again until the Series 2 finale. We have the Daleks versus the Doctor and – for the first time – the Cybermen. The Dalek threat is resolved fairly swiftly as a mechanism to separate the Doctor and Rose, but what we do get is the Cult of Skaro (the return of the Black Dalek! Daleks with names! I don’t know why these are exciting but they are!) and the joy of subverting the two biggest monsters finally meeting by – instead of a huge space battle – having four of them read each other in a corridor with sassy putdowns.

13. Revelation of the Daleks

Eric Saward’s second Dalek story features Davros turning humans into a new race of Daleks leading to the stirrings of a civil war with the originals.

There are always garish edges to Saward’s writing, but the sequence where a character discovers her father’s body inside a glass Dalek – and he alternates between ranting about genetic purity and begging him to kill her – is at its core such a terrifying idea that it succeeds where the horrors of ‘Resurrection’ seem shallow. It does share that story’s lack of interest in the Daleks for the most part though, but this scene makes them scary for the first time since ‘Genesis’.

This also features Alexei Sayle fighting Daleks with a ray gun that fires rock’n’roll. If you don’t like that then we’re probably not going to agree on much about Doctor Who.

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12. Day of the Daleks

This is an example of the Daleks’ importance to Doctor Who. After talking to Huw Weldon, who had been responsible for the length of ‘The Dalek Master Plan’, producer Barry Letts decided to bring the Daleks back for the Season 9 finale, with Terry Nation’s permission, only to decide that the show instead needed a hook for the opening story of Season 10. As a result, the Daleks were inserted into the story planned for that slot. This is a common feature of Dalek stories: it’s hard to write something original that they’re intrinsic to.

The production suffers from the small number of Dalek props available, and director Paul Bernard not using the ring modulator effect for their voices. This is a good story (though maybe not a good Dalek Story) with a then novel time paradox plot and Aubrey Woods’ Controller is a really strong performance. Viewing figures broke the 10 million mark for the first time since ‘The Dalek Master Plan’, so the decision to bring the Daleks back was absolutely vindicated.

11. Mission to the Unknown/The Daleks’ Master Plan

Essentially a longer and darker version of ‘The Chase’ with higher stakes – it’s not simply that the Daleks want to kill the Doctor, it’s that the Doctor stole part of their superweapon – with a subpar comedy episode and lots of hostile planets (deadly plants, invisible monsters, a rare mineral: such familiarity!). Extended to twelve episodes, it loses its way but commits to its scale with an incredibly downbeat ending that uses jungle planet cliché for contrast: Kembel is reduced to sand and dust.

A highlight of this story is the alliance of Outer Galaxy emissaries who join with the Daleks, a group of Doctor Who villains who inevitably bicker and betray each other. This, rather than the Space Security Service, is what Terry Nation should have focussed on for his spin-offs.

10. Asylum of the Daleks

Steven Moffat’s first proper Dalek story was part of Series 7A, an attempt at weekly blockbusters driven by high concepts. Here, then was the promise of a Dalek asylum with old and replica props, while also attempting to unify both the New Paradigm designsand the lack of emotional fallout to Amy and Rory Pond’s baby being kidnapped. Moffat also threw in a surprise new companion appearance and it’s this, combined with a nano cloud weapon that turns people into Daleks.

It’s not that the others don’t get resolved, but it’s done swiftly in another busy story. While the Daleks have previously controlled people, the idea of actually being turned into Daleks is both macabre and slightly jarring. It feels like, considering their last story involved a plotline about genetic purity, this isn’t the right fit. What does work better is the concept that the Daleks have a concept of beauty, and it’s based around hatred. While this episode does fulfil its blockbuster ambitions it also feels like it needs more room to breathe in order to do justice to all its concepts.

9. The Stolen Earth/Journey’s End

This is the logical conclusion of the Daleks’ return to the show: invading present-day Earth with a huge fleet (complete with Davros backseat driving). Also here, on top of the scale and sheer pace of the storytelling, is the logical conclusion of the Daleks: they attempt to destroy all other life in the universe in one go.

However, there’s also a sense of their ‘Day of the Daleks’role. They’re the Big Guns, so out they come for Doctor Who’s version of Infinity War. They’re developed here by virtue of Davies giving some of them distinct characters (Hello Dalek Caan, hello another stellar Nick Briggs performance). The Daleks here are aggressive and powerful (until Donna finds the off-switch in their basement), but the Doctor’s storyline is more tied up with the companions’ fates than the Daleks.

Davros is also here, trying to suggest to the Doctor that his friends trying to kill Daleks – the most evil race in the universe who are currently trying to obliterate all other sentient life – is bad (this idea worked once in a specific context and no one else has managed it before or since). On the other hand, Davros recognising Sarah Jane again is a thrilling way to bind Doctor Who to its past.

8. The Daleks

On the one hand, I find this story drags towards the end after a strong and uneasy start, but on the other Doctor Who doesn’t exist as we know it without ‘The Daleks’.

It’s hard to imagine the impact of this story on a 1963 audience, especially as we’re so familiar with what the Daleks and Doctor Who were to become. Consider, then, a story with the fear of the bomb writ large (broadcast a year after the Cuban Missile Crisis) and the Daleks in that context. That’s the existential fear angle for the adults covered, which meant they were happy to watch along, but more important was the response from children: love.

Many people contributed to the story and to the Daleks. Nation’s desire to avoid a Man-In-A-Suit monster is important, but key is the work of designer Raymond Cusick, voice actor Peter Hawkins and the Radiophonic Workshop’s Brian Hodgson. What the initially sceptical BBC found was that by the third episode, children who had watched the show were impersonating the Daleks.

There’s a lot to be written about the ageing geek audience who take their childhood toys with them into adulthood, and this article is written by a 35-year-old man who grew up when Doctor Who was off-air. However it’s worth stressing: next time you complain about the show reaching out to primary school aged children, remember that without kids in the playground, Doctor Who would simply not have survived.

7. The Evil of the Daleks

This is an excellent four-part story. Unfortunately it’s seven episodes long.

After a ludicrously convoluted scheme to get the Doctor into the actual plot, amid subplots that go nowhere, there are great parts of David Whittaker’s tale: The Daleks have kidnapped the Doctor and Jamie in order to isolate the Human Factor – the quality humans possess that enables them to regularly defeat the Daleks – to enable them to finally overcome humanity.

Firstly, if Russell T. Davies had written this the forums would never stop complaining about its scientific accuracy. Secondly, what this concept does is allow Whittaker to put the Doctor and Jamie into conflict, with the Doctor’s trickery leading to the unnerving scene of Daleks acting like children and then ultimately a Dalek civil war. We also see the first appearance of the Dalek Emperor, with a huge prop built for the story. When ‘Evil of the Daleks’ is good, it’s electric. You can see this in the surviving episode when the Doctor realises just before they appear that the Daleks are involved.

It’s a shame that the superfluous padding significantly detracts from the rest.

6. The Magician’s Apprentice / The Witch’s Familiar

A story which is primarily about the relationship between the Doctor, Davros, Missy and Clara, but which also casually drops in several new concepts which get under the skin of the Daleks more successfully than anything since ‘Dalek’. The focus is on Davros, but as the Doctor observes ‘Everything you are, they are.’

Firstly, there’s an elegant piece of writing from Steve Moffat where Davros narrates the moments before a Dalek fires, explaining they are waiting for Clara to run. Not only does this explain the Daleks not immediately shooting people, it offers a glimpse into their sadism and malice (as exemplified by Davros). Similarly, the idea that the creature inside the Dalek clings on outside of their life-support system, as they cling onto their home planet, ties into what we’ve seen on screen before.

Finally, anything in a Dalek casing trying to express individuality will have those words and thoughts twisted into the opposite meaning. This returns to the idea that original voice artist Peter Hawkins had for the Daleks – that the creatures inside were trapped. It’s an insidiously nasty idea, perhaps explaining behaviour such as the Dalek that commits suicide in ‘Death to the Daleks’when it sees its prisoners have escaped.

5. The Dalek Invasion of Earth

This and ‘Genesis’ confirm that Terry Nation’s strengths were in war stories rather than the pulp science-fiction adventure story he relied on. ‘Dalek Invasion of Earth’ is a thriller full of post-war fears that forever intertwined the Daleks and The Doctor.The production team pull out all the stops to show a conquered Earth with harrowing matter-of-factness, but the Doctor takes delight in opposing them (Hartnell is great here, taking the edge off with a twinkle but playing Susan’s leaving scene with great pathos too). The last episode is little rushed but overall this is well balanced.

The Daleks here are more mobile and powerful, their regime oppressive, their plans for turning the Earth into a spaceship bizarre and ineffable. As Nation puts it ‘They dare to tamper with the forces of creation’, the sort of boldness that would seep out of his own storytelling in future stories.

4. Genesis of the Daleks

‘Genesis of the Daleks’is another war story realised extremely well. The production does not pull many punches, and is atypically grim for Doctor Who: The Doctor loses but clings on to the slim hope that he hasn’t.

This is clearly Terry Nation’s best script, and is still clearly a Terry Nation script: radiation poisoning, over-ambitious creature requests – I don’t think Doctor Who could ever do a giant clam well, even now – and the endearingly-crap naming conventions (the mutants in the wastelands are called ‘Mutos’ and their dialogue could slot effortlessly into The Mighty Boosh).

Outgoing producer Barry Letts called Nation on his bullshit when he attempted to hand in a similar script for the second time, and suggested an origin story. From here Nation developed the war of attrition, Nazi parallels and the character of Davros (created to have a Dalek-like character who could be given interesting dialogue). Nation commits to making the origins of the Daleks plausibly horrifying. Contrast the halfway stage of ‘The Chase’ – with its misplaced comedy episodes that sap the momentum of the story – with the halfway point here: Davros willingly destroys his entire race to ensure the survival of the Daleks.

Where it feels lesser in comparison is that it is neither connected to an everyday, material reality (unlike ‘Spare Parts’, the story exploring the Cybermen’s origins) and its famous scene where the Doctor asks if he has the right to commit genocide, which looms large in later stories.

And yet, this scene only works in isolation. In context it’s jarring. In surrounding stories, the Doctor kills a sentient robot, a Sontaran, and some Zygons; he will later poison someone with cyanide, all without any qualms. Here, though, he compares destroying Dalek mutants – which are already attacking people – to killing Hitler as a baby. The Doctor worries he’d be as bad as the Daleks if he wipes them out. A few scenes later he has changed his mind, trying and failing to kill them. If it was linked to Davros’ aspirations of godhood, fine, but it’s neither written nor played that way.

It’s not as if the Doctor hasn’t already instigated attacks that seem to wipe the Daleks out, but there other people did the dirty work. It’s this, going forward, that becomes the key aspect of the scene for future writers.

3. Remembrance of the Daleks

‘Remembrance’takes the brewing civil war situation of ‘Revelation’ and connects it simultaneously to Doctor Who and British history. The Doctor is trying to trick the Daleks into using a superweapon hidden in 1963 London, knowing it could result in people dying. The Doctor’s trap feels like a response to ‘Have I the right?’ – clearly he feels he has but doesn’t want to directly press the trigger. It’s both a significant change and logical development in the series and the character, with Sylvester McCoy wanting to play both the weight of the character’s years and actions.

The Daleks are here because it’s an anniversary series but also because if you want a demonstration of power then potentially defeating the Daleks is a clear statement. Writer Ben Aaronovitch doesn’t just involve Daleks with a view to blowing them up, but addresses the reasons for their civil war: the hatred for the unlike that has defined the Daleks but also been part of British culture the entire time Doctor Who has been on screen and beyond, explicitly linked to the most evil creatures in the universe. Not only that, he places that hatred in the supporting cast: the ostensible good guys, the UNIT precursor, the family home.

This has scale, depth and feels important on different levels. This is Doctor Who back to its playground-influencing best.

2. The Power of the Daleks

As Terry Nation was unavailable, David Whitaker wrote the initial scripts before Dennis Spooner’s uncredited rewrites. The Daleks are in this story to bring viewers back on board after the first regeneration, and they also legitimise the new Doctor in contrast to the Daleks. The Mercury swamps that bookend the story also evoke Terry Nation in terms of putting the characters into a hostile alien environment.

The action takes places on a human colony, Vulcan. The Daleks are introduced as a potential solution to their problems, with an insurrectionist faction interested in using them as weapons and the scientist restoring them obsessed with his discoveries. The Doctor’s lone voice of dissent comes across as lunatic ravings, but the audience know the Daleks are manipulating everyone else.

Daleks obviously have the power to kill, but ubiquity had already removed their uncanniness until this story. The suggestion of deeper thought and intelligence builds, and this story gives the lie to the notion that you can’t give the Daleks good dialogue: “Why do human beings kill other human beings?” is full of chilling curiosity, “Yes, you gave us life” a future echo of their capacity for destroying father figures, the almost mocking repetition of “I am your servant”, and the cacophony of “Daleks conquer and destroy” that becomes a disorientating swirl of hatred.

This culminates in a final episode of mass slaughter. The release of tension is colossal. The very end suggests this is not over. The Daleks will never be more unnerving.

1. Dalek/Bad Wolf/The Parting of the Ways

This isn’t a three-parter in the usual sense, but these episodes are inextricably linked, with Russell T. Davies using a series arc to delay and distract the audience from their connection.

What’s key to all three episodes is Christopher Eccleston. He sells the threat of the Daleks better than any other Doctor, elevating the already strong scripts. These are the best performances against the Daleks there will ever be.

If you’re reading this website there’s a strong chance you know that the Daleks were seen going upstairs in the 1980s, but for most viewers ‘Dalek’ was the one that took all the jokes and weaponised them (Indeed Rob Shearman asked his partner what she thought was silly about the Daleks before writing his script): they not only go upstairs but crack skulls with their sucker arm, with added revolving weaponry and force field.

The carnage is well-realised, with director Joe Ahearne letting the Dalek take its time to build the tension, Shearman’s script taps into Russell T. Davies’ new Time War mythology and companion dynamic to allow the Dalek more intelligence in terms of dialogue and emotional manipulation. This Dalek has the threat of those in ‘Genesis’and the intelligence of the ones in ‘Power of the Daleks’.

Their redesign is a microcosm of why ‘Dalek’ works so well: it doesn’t change much, rather it takes what already works and improves upon it. I can’t imagine the return of the Daleks being handled better, while stealthily setting up the stakes of the previously unimaginable series finale.

Over this article I’ve talked about different aspects of the Daleks’ appeal. Children love them and fear them. They tap into adult fears of death, fascism and the uncanny (exemplified by the cacophonic chanting of ‘Exterminate’). That they can appear comical can be weaponised, as can the fact their hatred is not unique to them. Their reach extends into the mundane.

The reasons these episodes work so well is partly because they tap into these strengths, but also that they tell more than anything tell the story of the Ninth Doctor. He’s already committed a double-genocide, as far as he’s concerned, and is barely keeping it together without the prospect of having to commit another one. This is contrasted with the fact of one Dalek being demonstrably dangerous, and now there are hundreds of them. We know what they can, what they will do, and the only way to stop it is for the Doctor to kill Daleks and humans alike. It’s a much more effectively constructed and persuasive dilemma than the one the Doctor proposes in ‘Genesis’.

This story also puts in work with the supporting characters, and rather than being soldiers the staff of the satellite are office workers put into a desperate situation, or people who just wanted to be on telly. While ‘Bad Wolf’isn’t as Dalek-heavy, its satire is subtly devastating. If you look back at clips of The Weakest Link now you can see casual and sadistic cruelty meted out, so connecting this to the Daleks is a stroke of genius (especially with celebrity voices unwittingly joining in their own condemnation), bringing their evil to the everyday.

The Doctor’s closest friends here are merely the people who die last; he knows they’re going to die, and he hears it happen. It becomes increasingly personal, while also satiating that morbid fannish desire to see the Daleks kill someone. Here they seem sadistic, devious, and unstoppable. The need to stop them is obvious, as is the cost.

So rather than an unearned moment of moralising here we have a situation where the Doctor’s decision makes sense, is not abstract to him. This also, in the first series back, makes an important statement: Doctor Who can be dark, and nice people can die horribly, but it is not a series where the grimness becomes overwhelming. Here the Doctor’s decision not to kill is one he knows will also cost him his life, and then his ideals inspire his salvation: it is Rose, not Davros or the Doctor, who is set up among the gods, and her instinct is not – to paraphrase another franchise – to destroy what she hates.

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The reason I love this one is because it delivers on so many fronts: these stories define this Doctor. The story is epic but steeped in the everyday. The Daleks are terrified and terrifying, silent and shrieking, devious and brutal. They feel unstoppable here in a way they simply haven’t since. For a story to do this many things is impressive, but to do them all well is astonishing.

The post Doctor Who: Ranking the Dalek Stories – Which is the Best? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[regularbeans]

Best Collaborations of 2017

This list is actually growing every year. Last year I only had 15, before that 10 and 10 in 2014 as well. I love it, yes. Give me more collabs! (And remember, I have a bit of a rulebend where stuff released the previous year’s December still counts.)

20 All Time Low: Ground Control (feat. Tegan and Sara) 

If I’m absolutely honest I don’t really know/like Tegan and Sara but I do know they come from around the same neck of the pop punk woods All Time Low does and I can appreciate a bit of out of nowhere collab. 

19 ONE OK ROCK: Take What You Want (feat. 5 Seconds of Summer)

I honest to god know nothing about One Ok Rock but I do love those 5SOS boys and miss them quite a lot so I’m happy for this track.

18 Halsey: Strangers (feat. Lauren Jauregui)

Another confession: I don’t think this song is as much the tits as everybody says it is but my bi heart hungers for any sort of representation so I’ll take it thank you very much.

17 Stargate: Waterfall (feat. P!nk & Sia)

This is for a movie, right? Who the heck cares, Pink and Sia are definitely two of the strongest female vocalists out there and hearing them side-by-side is every bit as brilliant as I thought it would be.

16 Clean Bandit: I Miss You (feat. Julia Michaels)

Artists like Clean Bandit, Robin Schulz, Kygo or The Chainsmokers (all of which actually have a place or two on this list) are good cause they’re giving me a constant supply of collabs to love. I don’t even know Julia Michaels and I fell in love with her voice as soon as I heard this song.

15 Robin Schulz: OK (feat. James Blunt)

Not as good as Sugar but good regardless, James Blunt is the last person I thought would be collaborating with Robin Schulz but surprisingly it works.

14 Linkin Park: Heavy (feat. Kiiara)

This song was the first on my list back when it came out and even though I understood the concerns about such a different track being the lead single, I could not side with the criticism saying it’s bad. It’s an emotional, painful song about inner turmoils sung beautifully by Kiiara and Chester Bennington.

13 Kygo: Stargazing (feat. Justin Jesso)

Kygo, buddy, you always have my back when it comes to collabs. I love my dance pop full of samples and this gives me just that.

12 The Chainsmokers: Something Just Like This (feat. Coldplay)

Alright, sue me, I love catchy songs. So what? In this world where pop music has become electronic pop producers like The Chainsmokers have an easy job I’d say and some of the old pop royalty are left to catch up or get left behind. This results in many bands that started out or became famous worldwide in the last decade prioritising the electro pop sound over their old set-up (two examples are Coldplay and the upcoming OneRepublic, by the way). For some it doesn’t work out that great but for Coldplay here it sounds comfortable, showing another side of themselves.

11 Kygo: Stranger Things (feat. OneRepublic)

 I think I’ve said all I could about this track in the previous two summaries but let me just add that when Ryan Tedder came out with that announcement about not doing another album anytime soon but rather releasing singles whenever they felt comfortable with it because he felt way too under pressure I became worried. I love OneRepublic despite thinking their music have kind of gone downhill since the good old days of the last decade (see?) and would never want them to force themselves into doing shit they don’t want. With a few amazing collaborations under their belt I’m glad they found their way to this song which fits their repertoire quite well.

...remember the beginning of this post when I didn’t write whole novels for every entry? I miss those times. Click through for the first ten songs.

10 San Holo: I Still See Your Face (GOSLO Remix)

Alright, not a classic collaboration but you know what I mean. San Holo’s always been a weird one for me because I barely listen to his vanilla stuff, I always seem to fancy the remixes only. This one is strangely addictive and once you’ve heard it slowed down like that you don’t really want to go back to the original. Sorry(?)

09 Khalid & Imagine Dragons: Thunder/Young Dumb & Broke

I don’t know how this collab came to be but I like to think that the Imagine Dragons boys and Khalid both separately heard each other’s songs and realised the instrumentals might as well be swapped cause they just fit each other so well. I also recommend the live version which is awesome. I’m so on board with Dan Reynolds wandering into the realms of R&B, it really suits him.

08 Logic: 1-800-273-8255 (feat. Alessia Cara & Khalid)

Mental illness has been getting tons of attention in the mainstream media recently, I think starting around the suicide of Robin Williams (could be sooner but that’s when I became aware of the attention) and that’s not a bad thing but I feel like most artists are still just dancing around the notion of saying things as they are. It’s not a bad thing, I’d rather people are careful rather than misrepresenting or spreading false information and thus enforcing the stigma around mental illness, but then someone like Logic comes out of nowhere with a song whose title is literally the US suicide prevention hotline with several hard hitting lines that tell it like it is. The fact that the music video is about a young black gay boy growing up to be happy is just cherry on top. I’m glad Alessia Cara and Khalid, two people from two different genres came together to collaborate on it.

07 Nothing But Thieves: Hell Yeah (feat. Jonathan Higgs)

Fear not, I will always find a way to cram these assholes onto any list I can get my filthy fingers on. I don’t even know which concert this was and I had no idea these guys even knew each other but it was such a random impromptu collab that I can’t help but love it. The harmonies sounded amazing and I love the idea of any old singer from an otherwise unrelated band just randomly wandering on stage to sing a duet with Conor.

06 dodie: Impossible Year (feat. Jack Howard)

Here’s one of our outliers but one that actually fits our current situation. Panic! forever cemented this song as a must-listen at the end of every year and dodie and Jack Howard did an amazing job covering the song. It works even better as a duet somehow, and I just love their voices together.

05 Lin-Manuel Miranda: Almost Like Praying (feat. Artists for Puerto Rico)

Lin is one of those people who just radiates good energy wherever he goes. You just can’t help but feel positive when he’s around. I imagine it’s a blessing and a burden but when he uses that power to gather around a group of musical legends and contemporary artists to promote a good cause it’s definitely a blessing.

04 Clean Bandit: Symphony (feat. Zara Larsson)

It might just be because this song is the theme song of my OTP but I love it. It’s even weirder because I listened to it a lot this year when I had a bit of a breakdown and yet this song doesn’t remind me of that phase, thankfully. It reminds me that Clean Bandit are master songwriters and Zara Larsson’s voice is too good for the music she does on her own.

03 Machine Gun Kelly: Home (feat. X Ambassadors & Bebe Rexha) 

Do I like Machine Gun Kelly? Not really. Do I like Bebe Rexha? Not in particular. Have I seen Bright? Hell no. I do love X Ambassadors to bits, however, and will lay down my life for a good hook any day. It’s a nostalgic sort of bittersweet song about belonging and missing home, and it carries even more meaning when you realise Machine Gun Kelly wrote his verse after he found out about Chester Bennington’s death. I love this song regardless of the background info but it just fits so well together this way. Also Bebe Rexha’s voice is also too good for the music she does on her own. She’s got a beast in that throat of hers, goddamn.

02 Grizfolk: In My Arms (feat. Jamie N Commons)

Two artists that crept up on me without any warning, indie pop Grizfolk and what the hell is Jamie N Commons even doing when he’s not singing for other people? I should probably check out. But until then enjoy this song between two of the strongest vocals you probably never heard of.

01 Cold War Kids: So Tied Up (feat. Bishop Briggs) 

You’d think I knew this song would be first on the list for a long time but no sir, I did not. Eventually the deciding factor was that the live version they released before the album came out (link in the title) was so good that when the studio version came out people were outraged that Bishop Briggs was barely featured. It wasn’t even the false advertisement that hurt, it was just that the studio version absolutely wasted Bishop’s talents which as we know are plenty. Luckily Cold War Kids realised their mistake and released a “moreBishop” version which is 1) as it should’ve been from the very beginning and 2) fucking hilarious. The music video (linked here) also features “moreBishop”, thank goodness x)

The list also contained Not Easy by Alex Da Kid and featuring X Ambassadors, Elle King, and Whiz Khalifa but unfortunately it’s from 2016 October as it turns out so :[ (Listen to the song anyway cause it’s really good)

[todaysbiggesthits]

Odds, Ends

The Leftovers

TBH Era:

Nasty’s 16-20

16. Daft Punk - Random Access Memories 17. Chromatics - Kill for Love 18. A$AP Rocky - Live. Love. ASAP 19. Yeasayer - Odd Blood 20. Action Bronson - Blue Chips 1 & 2

Larson’s 16-20

16. Lizzo - Cuz I Love You 17. Taylor Swift - Lover 18. Waxahatchee - Out in the Storm 19. tUnE-yArDs - W H O K I L L 20. The Weeknd - Beauty Behind the Madness

BC’s 16-20

16. Youth Lagoon - The Year of Hibernation 17. Disclosure - Settle 18. Kurt Vile - b’lieve i’m goin down 19. Lotus Plaza - Spooky Action at a Distance 20. Vampire Weekend - Modern Vampires of the City

Bronco’s 16-28

16. High on Fire - De Vermis Mysteriis 17. Violent Soho - Violent Soho 18. Moontooth - Chromaparagon 19. Thou - Rhea Sylvia 20. Alien Weaponry - Tu 21. Elder - Reflections of a Floating World 22. Inter Arma - The Cavern 23. Windhand - Eternal Return 24. MAKE - The Golden Veil 25. King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard - Nonagon Infinity 26. Slugdge - Esoteric Malacology 27. Monoliths - Monoliths 28. Violent Soho - Hungry Ghosts

Code’s 16-26

16. Robyn – Body Talk 17. Colleen Green – Sock it to Me 18. Colleen Green – I Want to Grow Up 19. Kanye West – My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy 20. Washer – All Aboard 21. Spook Houses – Trying 22. Alien Boy – Sleeping Lessons 23. EMA – Exile in the Outer Ring 24. PAWS – Cokefloat! 25. Snooty Garbagemen – Snooty Garbagemen 26. All Dogs - All Dogs

Chap’s 16-33

16. Tomberlin - At Weddings 17. Dan Deacon - America 18. Cloud Nothings - Attack on Memory 19. Lana Del Rey - Norman Fucking Rockwell! 20. M83 - Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming 21. Jessica Pratt - Quiet Signs 22. Father John Misty - I Love You, Honeybear 23. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Skeleton Tree 24. Lost Under Heaven - Spiritual Songs for Lovers to Sing 25. Titus Andronicus - The Most Lamentable Tragedy 26. Kanye West - Yeezus 27. PJ Harvey - Let England Shake 28. Girls - Broken Dreams Club 29. Robyn - Body Talk 30. No Age - Everything In Between 31. The National - Trouble Will Find Me 32. Girls - Father, Son, Holy Ghost 33. Youth Lagoon - The Year of Hibernation

JD’s 16-57

16. Kacey Musgraves - Golden Hour 17. Animal Collective - Centipede Hz 18. DIIV - Oshin 19. Ariel Pink - Pom Pom 20. Beach House - Depression Cherry 21. Purple Mountains - Purple Mountains 22. Kanye West - The Life of Pablo 23. Panda Bear - Tomboy 24. Death Grips - The Money Store 25. Parquet Courts - Wide Awake! 26. Slowdive - Slowdive 27. Lana Del Rey - Norman Fucking Rockwell! 28. Radiohead - The King of Limbs 29. LCD Soundsystem - This is Happening 30. Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest 31. Destroyer - Kaputt 32. Grouper - Ruins 33. Parquet Courts - Sunbathing Animal 34. Jessica Pratt - Quiet Signs 35. Joanna Newsom - Divers 36. Nine Inch Nails - 3 EPs 37. Earl Sweatshirt - Some Rap Songs 38. The Strokes - Angles 39. William Basinski - A Shadow in Time 40. Todd Terje - It’s Album Time! 41. The Knife - Tomorrow, In a Year 42. Oneohtrix Point Never - Replica 43. Julianna Barwick - Will 44. Eleanor Friedberger - Rebound 45. LCD Soundsystem - American Dream 46. Vampire Weekend - Modern Vampires of the City 47. Panda Bear - Buoys 48. No Age - Snares Like a Haircut 49. Dirty Beaches - Badlands 50. Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti - Before Today 51. Underworld - Barbara Barbara, we face a shining future 52. Frankie Cosmos - Zentropy 53. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Skeleton Tree 54. The Voidz - Virtue 55. Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross - The Social Network Soundtrack 56. Pantha du Prince - Black Noise 57. Colleen Green - Sock it to Me

‘19:

Laser’s 16-20

16. King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard - Infest the Rats’ Nest 17. The Black Keys - “Let’s Rock” 18. Electric Guest - KIN 19. Stella Donnelly - Beware of the Dogs 20. Tegan and Sara - Hey, I’m Just Like You

Bronco’s 16-20

16. Blackwater Holylight - Veils of Winter 17. Year of the Cobra - Ash and Dust 18. Blood Incantation - Hidden History of the Human Race 19. sunn O))) - Pyroclasts 20. Baroness - Gold & Grey

Chap’s 16-20

16. Field Medic - fade into the dawn 17. Brittany Howard - Jaime 18. Mannequin Pussy - Patience 19. The National - I Am Easy to Find 20. Vampire Weekend - Father of the Bride

JD’s 16-24

16. Sui Zhen - Losing, Linda 17. Empath - Active Listening: Night on Earth 18. Gesaffelstein - Novo Sonic System 19. Earl Sweatshirt - Feet of Clay 20. No Age - A Cassette of a Live Ambient Performance 21. Paul Maroon - A Two Song 45 I Bought On Etsy 22. Denzel Curry - ZUU 23. Avey Tare - Cows on Hourglass Pond 24. Vampire Weekend - Father of the Bride

From the Desk of

Bronco’s Brettnacher-Certified Attendance Report

2019: A Broncospective

This was a year of waiting. Waiting for Tool. And I feel like I treated the rest of the year's music up until that point as thumb-twiddling whilst waiting for the big payoff. This year seemed to be filled with passable hold-over music. And a sense of dread as the months ticked by, that dread that comes with the unattainable expectations I've come to experience as I've grown older. Waiting for something awesome to happen, and then it happens, and it's not nearly as awesome as you hoped it to be. I've come to equate anticipation with dread now...to the point that I do my damnedest to avoid anticipation by pushing everything future out of my mind. So I live in the present now, and I feel totally unprepared every single day. Weekends come and I have no idea what's happening. I really should rethink this strategy and maybe just try not to build up my expectations. Fuck it. Either way, I was dreading the new Tool album. There's no way it could live up to a 13 year wait. Then it came. And it was good. Not redefine my life and realign my soul good, just perfect. It was what we all needed, those of us who have been waiting. One album that definitely wasn't a time-killer during the great Tool wait of nine deen was King Gizzard's 'Infest the Rats Nest.' That easily would have been my number one album this year had it not landed in the same year as Fear Innoculum. I actually had a hard time deciding which one was my number one, but in the end had to place Rat's Nest second. I know these guys have pumped out so many records in the past few years, but I was pleasantly surprised at their ability to sound like themselves while at the same time ripping out a proper metal album.  The subject matter, the riffs, all of it is great. And it's accessible to non-metal folks who want to hear some tasty licks. Lastly, I listened to a lot of hardcore this year too. Unlike any other year, something about it spoke to me. I don't know if it's our current political climate or what, but the indecipherable doomy sludgly stonery spacey lyrics of the stuff I'm usually in to felt like a nondescript blob of meaninglessness (not that I care what their meaning is at any other time). But the hardcore scene felt important. Like something topical was being said (or screamed), and said hard. The sheer anger in the music, I think, reflects the way I feel on a daily basis as I'm inundated with political shit from NYT, WashPo, CNN, etc. etc. etc. News about no news, filler designed to get me pissed off about shit that's out of my control, and designed to push me over the edge when the eventual outcome of all of this outrage is just more outrage that none of the original outrage mattered at all. That feeling of not being heard, the voice of reason being smothered by a sweat stained pillow owned by some bible thumping hypocrite child fucker, is maddening. To the point that all you want to do is scream until you're heard...like Sara Connor at the chainlink fence before Judgement Day destroys the playground and melts her skin off her body. That's what some of these acts have sounded like. And it's scratching an itch. Probably not going to be my jam for an extended period of time, I don't see myself pivoting to this corner of the genre, but like a good enima, this stuff has cleared my brain's bowels for the better this year. Here's to the next chapter, the next decade, and the next Tool album in 2035. Hail Satan, Happy Holidays, and a Happy New (Wave of British Heavy Metal) Year to you all.

From the Bin Bin

Nasty’s Best Rap of the Decade

Nasty’s Video of the Year

Da Baby - “BOP on Broadway”

JD's Silver Screen Video Staff Recommendations: Long Form Shelf

Solange - When I Get Home

Earl Sweatshirt - Nowhere, Nobody

Thom Yorke - Anima

New to Code in 2019

Colleen Green - Dude Ranch (cover of full album) Ganser - Odd Talk Felt - Forever Breathes the Lonely Word Duster - Capsule Losing Contact Dungen - 4 Alien Boy - Sleeping Lessons Charmer - Charmer Michael Cera Palin - I Don't Konw How to Explain It

Interloper’s Corner

Fergwad’s 1-10 of the Decade

1. Tame Impala - Lonerism 2. Tame Impala - Currents 3. Vampire Weekend - Modern Vampires of the City 4. Beach House - Bloom 5. Kanye West - Yeezus 6. Real Estate - Days 7. Beach House - Teen Dream 8. No Age - Everything in Between 9. Deerhunter - Hacyon Digest 10. Vampire Weekend - Contra

Ferg’s 10 “Call the Fire Department” Songs of the Decade

Tammy Rooney’s 1-10 of ‘19

1. Vampire Weekend - Father of the Bride 2. Cass McCombs - Tip of the Sphere 3. William Tyler - Goes West 4. Purple Mountains - Purple Mountains 5. Bon Iver - i, i 6. Strand of Oaks - Eraserland 7. Sharon Van Etten - Remind Me Tomorrow 8. Thom Yorke - Anima 9. Deerhunter - Why Hasn't Everything Disappeared Already 10. Hiss Golden Messenger - Terms of Surrender

From the Desk of Code’s Pal Jon Wotman

Artists spend an entire career and oceans of money in an effort to *shimmer.* I Wonder: shrug, yeah I shimmer so what. It’s not hard. -This, and the lines below, taken from an imagined documentary called “'I Wonder' Speaks” Somehow, despite the fact that in its initial release the recording sounds like a construction project nailed hastily in a tin lean-to (and the hammering was also included in the mix)... I Wonder: you take ecstasy and it’s not like everything drops away clean. There’s blood in there, there’s all the memory and old feelings and shit in your brain that that drugs have to sweep out and they don’t want to leave. It’s messy and I made it messy on purpose. You wanna make something really good, it’s got to feel messy even if it’s got the 90 degree bones of a skyscraper underneath. [Handclap.] It’s not hard. “When I look over my shoulder, I know who’ll be on the other side” effortlessly combines gesture, solidity, and faith in what must be the most romantic line of the decade. I Wonder: Everyone thinks writing about this stuff is hard. It’s not. “… and things’ll get trashy when we get to my place… “ presents sex as both without forethought and deeply premeditated, but, in both cases, without judgement… it’s the most erotic line of the decade. I Wonder: I’m not punning. No fucking way. And shame on your for putting me in this position. There’s some judgment for you. Any closing thoughts? I Wonder: Y’know. 

[abjecterrora]

hdtvtits replied to your post: horror film: gets banned tegan:

media vc: And What About It

tegan vc: i can’t believe you’d stifle me like this.  A Federal Crime, An Outrage, A Shock.