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Jan. 10th, 2008 01:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyoftimeYou are standing on a beach.
There are seagulls swooping and looping through the air, chasing and racing each other for potential food sources, floating in the water then suddenly taking off for better vistas, all the while squawking at each other noisily. For a minute, you are content to just watch their antics, taste the cold salt air on your tongue, and listen to the ocean rush against the shore.
A scattering of pebbles hitting the water catches your attention, and you trace their origin to a figure wearing a familiar bomber jacket adorned with pins balancing on a cropping of rocks. “Ace?” you call.
“Yeah. Who else would I be?” she answers, picking her way to you. “Are we ready to go, Professor?”
“Go?” you echo, perplexed. “Go where?”
“You promised to take me to Magereya after you’d had your fill of this naff beach. You can’t even swim here.” She kicks a loose piece of stone towards the frigid water. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
“Forget? I never forget,” you tell her and, with the confidence of fond familiarity, extend a hand to tweak her nose. Your finger passes through her without the slightest resistance, and you are left alone, staring, horrified, as she disappears as neatly as if she’d never existed. “Ace!”
“Is something wrong, Doctor?”
Another voice from behind you cuts through your shock. Your eyes and mind are glued to the piece of empty space where Ace had stood just a moment before, but your mouth forms a response on its own. “Of course not, Adric.”
“Tegan and Nyssa are waiting in the TARDIS,” he says.
“Then we shouldn’t keep them waiting,” you tell him with forced cheer, twisting your head to face him. He is young and smiling and so very alive, standing on the rocks that lead inland and offering you a hand up. You smile and accept it, and you can feel it, just for a moment, butterfly-light against your skin-
And then you are alone again.
They come and go so quick but it feels like eternity, their ghosts appearing and disappearing faster now, and you shut your eyes against them, unwilling to let yourself watch them leave again, but you can’t stop hearing; their voices are like battering shots to your hearts, each one killing you a little bit more, forcing you to remember, forcing you to care.
“Grandfather!” the granddaughter calls, youthful and worried and loving.
“Doctor!” the Time Lady orders, older and educated and arrogant.
“Doctor,” the reporter pleads, clever and curious and independent.
“Mr. Smith,” the medical student teases, amused and excited and challenging.
And you hold firm against the tide, Jamie Rose Jo Fitz Evelyn Mickey Barbara, but there’s one you can’t deny yourself, and you have to open your eyes when you hear his voice.
“Theta, are you just going to ignore me all day?”
“As if I could, Koschei.” He is as he used to be, dark hair and darker eyes, sparkling with good humour and none of the madness that will plague them as he grows older. “You’re difficult to ignore.”
“Glad you worked it out early,” he says with a careless, lopsided grin. “It’ll save you time later. Are you ready to give that hunk of stolen ship wreckage you call a TARDIS another try and pilot us out of here?”
“TARDIS,” you repeat, shielding your eyes from the sun, searching the beach for your familiar blue box. “Where’s the TARDIS?”
“No wonder you flunked your driving test,” Koschei observes dryly. “You can’t even remember where you materialised.”
“You didn’t win any awards for your navigation skills.” You twist your face into an annoyed grimace and aim a playful shove at him and remember too late, too late to stop, and the illusion shatters.
Doctor
“Have you worked out where you are?” The Rani is standing to your right, her hands on her hips, radiating superiority in that annoying way she always had. You place your hands in your pockets where they can do no more harm.
“No. Have you?”
Doctor
“I should have known,” she scoffs. “You can’t even remember a place you visited three centuries ago. Dårlig Ulv Stranden.” You stare at her, uncomprehending, and she turns away in disgust.
“Wait!“ you call to her, but she doesn’t hear- or ignores- you, and soon you’re left on your own, listening to the sound of her TARDIS dematerializing. But not quite alone, not anymore. All around you, the beach is filling with echoes of the past, bad and good: Daleks and Cybermen and Sontarans, Humans and Trakenites and Whifferdills, and you are deafened by their voices. The sand on the beach has turned to quicksand, sucking you in so that you are able only to watch as your companions die and leave you, one by one.
Wake up, Doctor
You call out to them, and your mouth fills with the quicksand surrounding you. You can’t move, can’t breathe, bogged down by your own inability to do anything.
D
O
C
T
O
R
When your eyes open, you are greeted by the comforting and familiar sights of the console room and your latest companion leaning over you, her worried face a few inches from yours.
“I thought you were having a nightmare,” she tells you.
For her sake, you scoff at her claim, and the reassuring lie comes easily to your tongue: “What, me? I never have nightmares.”
Relieved, she offers you her hand, and for a moment you’re afraid, completely terrified if you let yourself touch her she’ll fade away and you’ll be left alone again, and then your hand clasps hers, and you smile.
Community:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
theatrical_muse
Prompt: 209 - What are you afraid of?
Word Count: 945
Note: With special thanks to Hilary and Megs for betaing and being generally awesome.
There are seagulls swooping and looping through the air, chasing and racing each other for potential food sources, floating in the water then suddenly taking off for better vistas, all the while squawking at each other noisily. For a minute, you are content to just watch their antics, taste the cold salt air on your tongue, and listen to the ocean rush against the shore.
A scattering of pebbles hitting the water catches your attention, and you trace their origin to a figure wearing a familiar bomber jacket adorned with pins balancing on a cropping of rocks. “Ace?” you call.
“Yeah. Who else would I be?” she answers, picking her way to you. “Are we ready to go, Professor?”
“Go?” you echo, perplexed. “Go where?”
“You promised to take me to Magereya after you’d had your fill of this naff beach. You can’t even swim here.” She kicks a loose piece of stone towards the frigid water. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
“Forget? I never forget,” you tell her and, with the confidence of fond familiarity, extend a hand to tweak her nose. Your finger passes through her without the slightest resistance, and you are left alone, staring, horrified, as she disappears as neatly as if she’d never existed. “Ace!”
“Is something wrong, Doctor?”
Another voice from behind you cuts through your shock. Your eyes and mind are glued to the piece of empty space where Ace had stood just a moment before, but your mouth forms a response on its own. “Of course not, Adric.”
“Tegan and Nyssa are waiting in the TARDIS,” he says.
“Then we shouldn’t keep them waiting,” you tell him with forced cheer, twisting your head to face him. He is young and smiling and so very alive, standing on the rocks that lead inland and offering you a hand up. You smile and accept it, and you can feel it, just for a moment, butterfly-light against your skin-
And then you are alone again.
They come and go so quick but it feels like eternity, their ghosts appearing and disappearing faster now, and you shut your eyes against them, unwilling to let yourself watch them leave again, but you can’t stop hearing; their voices are like battering shots to your hearts, each one killing you a little bit more, forcing you to remember, forcing you to care.
“Grandfather!” the granddaughter calls, youthful and worried and loving.
“Doctor!” the Time Lady orders, older and educated and arrogant.
“Doctor,” the reporter pleads, clever and curious and independent.
“Mr. Smith,” the medical student teases, amused and excited and challenging.
And you hold firm against the tide, Jamie Rose Jo Fitz Evelyn Mickey Barbara, but there’s one you can’t deny yourself, and you have to open your eyes when you hear his voice.
“Theta, are you just going to ignore me all day?”
“As if I could, Koschei.” He is as he used to be, dark hair and darker eyes, sparkling with good humour and none of the madness that will plague them as he grows older. “You’re difficult to ignore.”
“Glad you worked it out early,” he says with a careless, lopsided grin. “It’ll save you time later. Are you ready to give that hunk of stolen ship wreckage you call a TARDIS another try and pilot us out of here?”
“TARDIS,” you repeat, shielding your eyes from the sun, searching the beach for your familiar blue box. “Where’s the TARDIS?”
“No wonder you flunked your driving test,” Koschei observes dryly. “You can’t even remember where you materialised.”
“You didn’t win any awards for your navigation skills.” You twist your face into an annoyed grimace and aim a playful shove at him and remember too late, too late to stop, and the illusion shatters.
Doctor
“Have you worked out where you are?” The Rani is standing to your right, her hands on her hips, radiating superiority in that annoying way she always had. You place your hands in your pockets where they can do no more harm.
“No. Have you?”
Doctor
“I should have known,” she scoffs. “You can’t even remember a place you visited three centuries ago. Dårlig Ulv Stranden.” You stare at her, uncomprehending, and she turns away in disgust.
“Wait!“ you call to her, but she doesn’t hear- or ignores- you, and soon you’re left on your own, listening to the sound of her TARDIS dematerializing. But not quite alone, not anymore. All around you, the beach is filling with echoes of the past, bad and good: Daleks and Cybermen and Sontarans, Humans and Trakenites and Whifferdills, and you are deafened by their voices. The sand on the beach has turned to quicksand, sucking you in so that you are able only to watch as your companions die and leave you, one by one.
Wake up, Doctor
You call out to them, and your mouth fills with the quicksand surrounding you. You can’t move, can’t breathe, bogged down by your own inability to do anything.
D
O
C
T
O
R
When your eyes open, you are greeted by the comforting and familiar sights of the console room and your latest companion leaning over you, her worried face a few inches from yours.
“I thought you were having a nightmare,” she tells you.
For her sake, you scoff at her claim, and the reassuring lie comes easily to your tongue: “What, me? I never have nightmares.”
Relieved, she offers you her hand, and for a moment you’re afraid, completely terrified if you let yourself touch her she’ll fade away and you’ll be left alone again, and then your hand clasps hers, and you smile.
Community:
theatrical_musePrompt: 209 - What are you afraid of?
Word Count: 945
Note: With special thanks to Hilary and Megs for betaing and being generally awesome.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-01-25 02:53 pm (UTC)Dear Mun,
I've noticed that you have not updated your journal eleventh_doctor (i.e., responded to one of the TM topics) for the past four weeks. NOTE: Roleplay does not count as updating your journal, per the rules of the Theatrical Muse community.
If you have responded to one of the last four TM topics and I missed your post, please forward the link to me. If you have not responded to a challenge, but would still like to continue participating in TM, please do the following:
1. REPLY TO THIS NOTE
2. RESPOND TO ONE OF THE MOST RECENT 4 TOPICS (#212, 213, 214, 215) BY NO LATER THAN 31st January 2008.
3. FORWARD THE LINK OF YOUR POST TO ME.
Otherwise I will remove your muse from the TM community.
If you are having trouble meeting this commitment, but you still do want to remain in the TM community, please let me know and I will see what I can do. Real life always takes precedence over fannish activities. We just need to know that you are still interesting in remaining a member of the TM community, and get some idea of when you may be able to participate again. If you do need a hiatus, please let me know when you think that you will be able to participate again. We can put your muse on hiatus for that time period. If another member requests the character during that time period, we will email you to see if you still wish to participate in TM. At the end of the indicated hiatus period, we will also email you to see if you wish to participate in the TM community. At that time, if you do not respond and/or update your journal, we will remove your muse from the community.
You can find a list of the most recent challenges here:
http://www.theatricalmuse.net/topics.html
Moderator,
Misc Fandom
no subject
Date: 2008-01-26 12:17 am (UTC)...And I'm afraid by 'mildly confused' I mean 'I was under the impression I was all right for another week or so'.
But, yes. Will get on that posthaste.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-26 02:53 pm (UTC)Mod,
OCs
no subject
Date: 2008-01-30 03:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-03 11:37 am (UTC)Mod
MF
no subject
Date: 2008-03-20 10:44 pm (UTC)