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Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed] Read 31753 times

Krystal Itzume

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Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« on: September 19, 2013, 11:32:41 pm »
Everything was still whirling in his head as his body hit the doorway of the phonebox, beautiful blue, and certainly not of this time. “2013,” he announced to the air, before he cleared his throat. “Is that how I sound now, really?” He had to ask as he staggered into the orange-painted alley. Dawn. The door shut behind him and his hand touched the bricks as he tried to get his balance. “Testing, testing, 1, 2, A-B-C! This is how I sound! Fascinating!” He laughed at the sound of his own voice. It was silvery, pleasant, clear—if he were to sing, he hoped it would be tenor. Baritone would sound so odd coming from this speaking voice.

He began walking, taking in a deep breath,
“Smell that English air!” and onto the sidewalk, where non-morning people gave him weird looks. He smiled in greeting, “Ello!” And they continued on. Time to get their coffees, time to get to their jobs, “Coffee now, that does sound good. Maybe. I hope I’m not as picky as before.” He brushed a hand back through thick hair, “Not bald then. Nor balding.” He couldn’t see the color, no matter how he messed it up, though. No stray strands fell into his eyes. ‘I hope I’m a ginger.’

He looked down at his attire,
“No, this won’t do at all,” straight black pants, a sloppily buttoned up white shirt. No, he wasn’t feeling it at all. He needed color. He needed a coat. Leather? Furs? Denim? “Coffee first, though, can’t think on an empty stomach. Maybe a bagel. Do I like bagels?”

On he walked until he came upon a little café that seemed open. He looked up at the name of it and smiled,
“Aww,” a little starfish decorated the sign, a motto on the window said, ‘Drown in Coffee’.

He stepped right in, finding it was not half as busy as he expected.
“Is it Saturday?” He had to ask as he came up to the counter. He leaned against it, looking away from all people and instead at the blackboard menu. What did he want? What did he like? Did he have money? Those little sea dollars were taunting him.

‘No.’


He could get around that.
“Excuse me,” he dug in his pocket for the psychic paper and quickly flashed it open, “I’m a food critic and I plan to do a write up on this place. Could you bring me a sample of your specialties so I could try them?” There, that would work! Certainly, famous critic John Smith of famous magazine would be given free food.
« Last Edit: September 19, 2013, 11:44:36 pm by Krystal Itzume »

Bleu

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #1 on: September 21, 2013, 07:10:30 am »
On a regular day, mornings did not usually bring anything worth remembering, so when the handsome student, Donovan Bukater, awoke from his sleep, he did not predict that anything would happen out of the ordinary. He rose from his bed in only his boxers, stretching before getting ready for his second job. He preferred his morning shifts to his evening shifts, for the people at the café were generally nicer to those who frequented bars in the late hours of the night.

After showering and getting dressed, Donovan gathered his belongings and was out of his apartment in no time. The sound of his door closing resonated around the darkened complex. Donovan pushed his short brown hair back, trying to tame its wild nature, and turned on the street with the café keys in hand. His hair was still damp, and his attire still smelled of soap and cologne. He had to open that morning.

Donovan was tall, with an athletic build, and a fair peachy skin. He was by all means a looker, but it was as much a blessing as a curse. People assumed that he was just a pretty face, not once thinking that he could have any intellectual capabilities. That idea got really annoying really quickly. He had other skills and talents – most of which depended not on his physique. This was ironic, for part of his tuition was paid for with an athletic scholarship.

Soccer.

He shook the keys when the knob struggled, and with a little shove he pushed the door to the café open. Once the other employees arrived and the kitchen began its operations, Donovan took his position behind the counter, preparing for the morning traffic. Everything was as it ought to be. That was until a ginger haired man, with black pants and a shirt that made him look homeless, walked into the café. Something about the man was strange, and Donovan was sure of it as soon as he’d laid eyes on him.

Who exactly was he?

“No sir,” said Donovan with a curious smile as the man came up to the counter. “Today is Friday.”

He knew that because he had advanced physics later that day.

The man flashed a piece of paper to him; apparently he was named John Smith and was a food critic that wrote reviews for a cooking magazine. Whatever magazine it was, something told Donovan that it was one he was familiar with. Before Donovan could tell if the license was real, the man put it back into its pocket. Curiously, Donovan felt not the need to ask to see it again. He believed him.

“Of course,” said the waiter, putting in the small plates of nearly everything on the menu. He mentioned to the cook to be careful, for the food was to be eaten by a food critic. When the man returned to his place behind the counter, he saw the man there still. “What can I offer you to drink?”

After he did that, Donovan could not help but keep his eyes on the man. What was it about him that intrigued Donovan so much? His curiosity, apparently, could not be sated. “Are you new in town?” It was part of the job to make conversation with what few civilians came up to the counter and remained. It was rare, however, when conversation was genuinely sought by an employee. The day was young, and Donovan knew not just how odd things would become. 

                               

Krystal Itzume

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #2 on: September 21, 2013, 07:31:41 am »
It worked flawlessly! The man couldn’t hide his grin at how amicable the place was, “Thank you!” If he were a critic, he could certainly write on the nature of the employees at this café. The young man didn’t look like someone who belonged here, though. No, no, he was an academic, someone who cared for body and mind, The Doctor could see it in the wild hair and his manners.

Yet, when the young man moved off to fetch things, The Doctor didn’t leave his position. He had long ago finished reading what was on the menu, and so he was simply distracted by thoughts.
‘She liked mochas.’ His most recent companion, pretty woman—so many women. Ah, but she’d been funny, that one. He was here after ‘losing’ her. He did not lose her in the same way as Rose, nor even in the same was as Donna. No, their departure was good, all things considered. He had taken her across the Universe, and through that journey, she found a reason to stay in one place, a sick mother. In a way, he had lost her to illness.

‘I want to spend time with her, Doctor. She doesn't have as much time left.’


Again, The Doctor was alone. Then again, he had been alone for a long time now, hadn't he? There was no one else like him, and all of his companions, he knew, were temporary, yet still he inflicted the agony on himself. He did love humanity. He loved it all, really, the multiple forms in the universe. Well, except the Daleks.

If he hadn't been alone, though, he humored the thought that he might not have gotten into such trouble earlier. He wouldn't have needed to regenerate.


“Huh?”
Waiter returned. “Oh, coffee. Yes, just coffee. Black—no, with sugar. Sugar and cream.” He didn’t step away from the counter but waited there for the coffee, accepting it when the man returned with it and asked him another question, “Not new, it has just been a very, very long time. I’m quite disoriented,” he answered, honest. He took a sip of the coffee and then wrinkled his nose, “Why do I never like what I want to like?” As if the waiter would know the answer. He held it out towards Donovan, “More sugar, or maybe something…something sweeter, yes, ah, let’s just go with a hot chocolate then, yeah?” He did not like coffee. He didn’t think sugar would fix that, not really.
« Last Edit: September 21, 2013, 07:38:33 am by Krystal Itzume »

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #3 on: September 27, 2013, 08:13:15 pm »
So the strange man did not like the coffee – how had he not known that before? Donovan got the impression that the man was not reviewing the coffee. There was an air of curious detachment coming from the man, as if he were not entirely present. Or perhaps it could be that he was present but in a way unfamiliar to Donovan. Where others would think the man obnoxious and unintelligent, Donovan noticed something deep within him. The scholar could tell that the man was smart, a genius even. Who exactly was he?

“Hot chocolate, certainly,” said Donovan before going to put in the order to the tab and making the chocolate himself.

“What a strange man,” said the cook to Donovan from the small window where the food left the kitchen for the waiter to take. “Who is he?”

Donovan did not smile. “I don’t know, he didn’t say.”

“Weird bloke, though, isn’t he?” The cook muffled his comment with a silly chortle. “Doesn’t dress like a food critic either, what is he wearing?”

Donovan tried not to roll his eyes. “He seems perfectly alright to me,” said he without turning to meet the cook’s gaze. Why was he defending the man? “You best be careful with the food, though, because if he writes a poor review on the food, we all know whose fault it’ll be.” This time, Donovan let his lips curl into a small smile – one that the cook did not bother to return.

The waiter finished stirring the hot chocolate, with a sweet smell coming from it in the shape of steam. Through the window came three plates and Donovan balanced them all on his arm while holding the hot chocolate in hand. As a way to get back at Donovan, the cook tried to throw a heavy towel at his feet in an attempt to trip the lad. Donovan was good with his feet, however, and he simply maneuvered around it, placing the plates and the hot chocolate on the counter without any problems.

“These are our more requested platters in the morning,” said Donovan matter-of-factly, “be careful with the hot chocolate, it’s still very hot. Let me know if you need anything else, sir.”

It was not unusual for people to eat at the counter in the morning, so Donovan left the utensils and napkins ready for the man next to the platters. With one quick movement, Donovan picked up the towel from the floor and handed it to the cook with a grin. The cook took it, but his face showed no sign of gratitude or amusement.

Krystal Itzume

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #4 on: September 28, 2013, 01:38:33 am »
It seemed the waiter was going to take care of this personally. A conversation took place, but the Doctor couldn’t make out the words, intentionally muffled and distorted by other sounds on the end of the cook. He didn’t take it for much, patiently waited for more to come. He observed the play between cook and waiter, wasn’t sure if he should frown or laugh. The waiter deftly avoided falling and presented the trays with their food down for his consumption.

It was an excellent selection of mostly baked goods. Bagels, muffins, crepes, a couple breakfast sandwiches, and oatmeal, among others. His eyes were alight with hope that he’d like something here.
“Thank you, and really, you don’t need to keep calling me sir. Doctor will do,” had the card said he was a Doctor? He could be a Doctor in culinary stuff, couldn’t he? Blasted American system. “It’s, ah, it’s more casual for me. All of my friends call me it,” a glance at a name tag, “Donovan.” He committed it to memory, before he picked up the cup.

He quickly set it back down again, too. It was hot.
‘All right then, muffins!’ It looked nutty, nuts decorated the top of it, at least. He bit down on it, grimaced. ‘Oh, come on! I liked bananas!’ It was always apples he didn’t like, and he eyed them in the oatmeal as if they were Satan incarnate when he set the muffin down, and tried the bagel.

There, at last, he smiled at the taste of something. It was more the cream cheese than the bagel itself, which was bready, and tasteless, and bland, but not bad. He supposed that was a perk. He tested the cup again,
“Ah! Still….” Shook his hand out, and continued picking up other bits of food. Oatmeal cookie was good, encouraging. Bacon was poison, absolute poison, but egg was good. Egg was better with cream cheese on it, as he soon tested.

Again, he touched the hot chocolate as he finished off the breakfast sandwich.
“Ah, there we go!” And he took a hearty gulp that scalded his throat, “Gah!” He moved the cup quickly away from his lips. He wiped the back of one hand by his lips to try and remove the heat. “Oh, but so good,” it was tempting to take another drink, even after what happened. He settled on having the crepe instead. It was encouraging, chocolate filled.

And then he spat a bit of it out,
“Why? I like chocolate! That’s not fair!” He didn’t connect the dots that he didn’t like bitter, and the chocolate in the crepe was of a darker sort.

He scowled at the betraying crepe, and decided not to tolerate its presence. He dumped it into the trash bin and set the plate neatly back on the tray as if nothing had happened.

He was feeling better now, and he took his cup and pushed the rest of the tray forward on the counter to signal he was done…then realized he hadn’t tried the oatmeal.
“Can’t be worse than the crepe,” he convinced himself, picked it up and a spoon. The oatmeal itself was good. He fished out an apple, and hesitantly bit into it.

A smile widened on his lips,
‘No more apple a day jokes!’ And he chewed it heartily. It was the best thing he’d ever had. He needed more apples. All the apples. Apple ciders, apples in caramel, the options were endless! The oatmeal was gone too soon.

He set it aside and then stepped away from the tray, picking up his ceramic cup again,
“Well, a bit of a mixed bag,” he noted to Donovan. “But overall, I think this is a quality place. Tell me, how long have you worked here? Do you know this area fairly well?”

As he asked, another young man entered, dark hair and dark eyes, and approached the counter without much consideration. He looked like a hipster by his clothing, wore a USB on a necklace.

The reason for his lack of consideration became clear,
“Don! Aren’t you gonna make it for the unveiling of the statue?” He leaned on the glass containing plenty of the café’s pastries. The statue was donated by an alumni, of course, these things always were. It was a Siren design, a winged one at that. The alumni had been some literature major and ended up being a famous novelist who worked off of Greek myths.

“Statue?”


“Where have you been, under a rock?”
He looked him up and down, “You go the school, don’t you?”

‘I look young!’
Foolish grin, “No, I don’t.” Tell me more.

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #5 on: September 28, 2013, 09:39:14 am »
Donovan tried hard to push back an admiring smile at the man who preferred to be called Doctor. Doctor John Smith, a culinary master and enthusiast? He really didn’t seem like much of a critic; it actually looked like he was tasting all these things for the very first time. Donovan convinced himself otherwise, it’d be impossible for someone never to have tried all these things. He remained quiet, cleaning glasses from behind the counter, yet finding himself completely amused by the idea of it all. Why hadn’t he decided to go towards a culinary art?

‘Because you both burn and undercook your eggs in the same go…’


Oh, right.

“I think that is dark chocolate, Doctor Smith,” said Donovan casually when Doctor Smith rejected the crepe with such scorn. Was it scorn? It looked a lot like disappointment, too.

Things seemed to get better for Doctor Smith when he tried the apples. Even his face seemed to have lit up a bit. Donovan liked eating apples, but he had never experienced such a revelation. When the Doctor pushed the relatively empty plates back to him, Donovan grabbed them and put them on the sink, thinking over the questions the man had just asked him.

Conversation was not unusual in a job like his.

Donovan chuckled as he cleaned. “I’m afraid I don’t know the area as much as I should,” it was true, school consumed most of his time. That and waiting tables at the café and the bar. “I’ve been here about three years, but I’ve worked here for only a couple of months. It pays for school.”

Why was he telling this to a man he just met? Donovan wasn't one to share details of his life.

The door opened and in came a comrade of his. When he reached the counter, Donovan slipped him a cup of coffee. One of the perks of having a friend who worked at a café. His friend addressed the Doctor, thinking him a student.

Donovan noticed that Doctor Smith looked a little young to be an already accomplished food critic. He looked the same age as he, actually.

“I forgot that was today,” said Donovan, remembering that he had just recently finished a round of exams. That explained his forgetfulness. “At what time is that at? I can’t remember the last time I saw such a creepy statue. Since when do sirens cover their eyes and have wings?”

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #6 on: September 28, 2013, 11:05:26 pm »
‘Aah, school.’ The Doctor smiled as he considered that only made sense. Someone so young working at a place like this usually attended Uni.

The friend sipped his coffee.
“It’s at 10am,” he noted. It was just turning 7 now.

The Doctor couldn’t help but answer,
“Well, in the ancient world, Sirens were creatures that had wings, not fish tails. They lived above the water, usually on rocks that jetted out of the sea, or small islands. After losing to the muses in some musical competition—really, who challenges the muses?—they covered their faces in shame,” of course, the Muses had been rather cruel, plucking out the feathers of the sirens. They dove into the sea then, and the Doctor was pretty certain they hadn’t perished as some writers said.

Hipster was giving him such an odd look. He drank more of the hot chocolate,
“Siren song is really pretty, though. Really sad.”

“You’ve heard it?”


“Oh yes, I was on a boat not so long ago that went by them.”


“And they were winged?”


“We didn’t get close enough to see. That would have been foolish.”


Hipster gave Donovan an odd look, as if asking him what sort of nutjob came into this place. The Doctor ignored it,
“So, you say you’ve already seen pictures of it?” The question was to both of them.

“Not pictures, the newspapers have just described its development. Pictures won't be taken until its unveiling--all very hush hush."
Something the other clearly thought was a bit ridiculous.

‘Good.'

“I don’t suppose it is wearing a crown of feathers, is it?”


“Hasn't been described as such.”


“Drat,”
that meant the reason for the statue to be hiding its face was probably not because this was post-losing to the muses.
« Last Edit: September 29, 2013, 07:55:34 am by Krystal Itzume »

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #7 on: October 02, 2013, 09:44:55 pm »
Donovan smiled. He had wanted to go see the ugly thing since the student body had announced its arrival. He had opened the café, so he could leave a little early if he needed to. “Campus is not far from here,” said the waiter as he continued to clean the counter, “Wait for me, I’ll go with you.”

When Doctor Smith spoke of the ancient Sirens, Donovan got the first real look at his brilliance. He spoke as if he knew everything so solidly, and the information had just been archived in his mind. For a food critic, he was sure knowledgeable in history. He listened in, taking in the information and creating an archive for himself. Like Doctor Smith, Donovan liked to remember everything that he learned, but his knowledge seemed limited in comparison.

How was it that someone so close to his age seemed to know so much already?

Donovan brushed off the look his friend gave him, being completely intrigued by the food critic. He had never met someone quite like him, and he spoke as if his encounters with Sirens were actually real. The scholar did not completely understand his angle, but he was willing to play along.

“It’s a little strange,” said Donovan, “people around the school have actually been very careful in making sure that no one takes pictures. I would think that something so…unusual would not merit such sharp attention. I didn’t hear anything about a feathered crown either.”

Doctor Smith sounded disappointed. Could he even be a little worried? Donovan didn’t know, but he couldn’t imagine why or how a simple statue could explain worry.

“Would you like to come see it with us? I’m sure you could pass as a student, easily.”   

He didn't know why, but Donovan wanted to Doctor Smith to come along. Something told him that things would be interesting if he did.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #8 on: October 02, 2013, 11:15:20 pm »
‘Aah, so they’re trying to keep people from taking pictures, interesting.’ That meant this artist was no doubt aware of what it was—well, of course the artist was. One didn’t make a Weeping Angel out of stone!

But one did make a Weeping Angel through images of it. That meant whoever was doing this, was fully aware of not only what it was, but also how it worked, and they did not plan to spread it. Were they setting it out in the public eye to keep it from attacking others? It might always be seen on a college campus.
‘No, no.’ Pictures would still end up being taken. A public campus was not as universally seen as, say, the Statue of Liberty was. That couldn’t be the plot.

But there was a plot, yes, of that the Doctor was certain. He had to figure out what it was, before it was too late. Weeping Angels were not creatures to be trifled with, and he was not getting stuck in some other time period again.

Donovan invited him along,
“I’d love to come see it, yes. I do need some new clothes, though. Is there a place around here I could find some? A thrift shop, perhaps?” Though he was considering using the sonic trick to get himself some money. He really should have considered that before coming in here. He should have gone to an ATM first, but he’d been so hungry.

“Uh, yeah, there’s a place across the street. Should be open now,”
hipster said. “What’s your name, anyway?”

The Doctor offered his hand,
“I’m the Doctor. You are?”

He looked confused by the answer, but he took the man’s hand,
“I’m Dixon,” he answered.

“Dixon, nice to meet you,”
he closed his other hand briefly around the other’s hand as he shook. “I’ll go see about getting some new clothes, and then I’ll wait here with you.” He released Dixon’s hand with both of his, before hurrying out to find this place that was just across the street.

Dixon looked at Donovan.
“Who is he?” As if he’d know better, somehow. 

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #9 on: October 03, 2013, 05:30:26 pm »
(Feel free to move us along if you think it appropriate. [: )

Donovan looked a little surprised at how the critic introduced himself. The student had just assumed that Doctor Smith liked to be called Doctor Smith, but he introduced himself as the Doctor, no actual name. It was all very interesting. Unusual. At least he had agreed to accompany them to the unveiling of the Siren. It wasn’t all that appealing, yet still the Doctor looked intrigued by it all. Before long, the Doctor expressed his desire to shop, and after he was directed to the closest shop, he went on out of the café.

What a strange time to go shopping, and so suddenly, too.

It didn’t take Dixon long to ask who the man was, and Donovan was not the least bit surprised.

“That’s Doctor John Smith, a food critic who’s writing a review for the Café. Seems like a cool guy, doesn’t he?”

A chuckle. 

But he was so young to be a food critic! He must have been really good at tasting and reviewing foods and dishes.

“I think it went well, he seemed pleased enough with the food.” A gruff was heard from behind, the cook was a little insulted – even when no insult was intended. Donovan ignored it and continued to converse with his friend. There weren’t many people inside of the Café, so his boss wouldn’t mind if he spoke with friends. As long as he continued to clean, of course. “You want some free food?” He asked his friend as they waited for the Doctor to return with his new clothes.


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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #10 on: October 03, 2013, 07:25:03 pm »
Donovan really didn’t need to ask. Dixon took the free food, and waited for time to move on up to the unveiling. He didn’t have any classes that day, so he had nothing better to do.


The Doctor, however, had a lot to do. There was an ATM nearby, so he was able to utilize his wonderful sonic screwdriver soon gave him plenty of money to spend, and he was able to walk into the clothing store. The first thing he did, even as he was greeted, was find a mirror.
“Oh, YES!” He had already figured out he still had legs, teeth, tongue, and fingers. He wasn’t sure how many toes he had. “I’m a ginger!” He pushed his fingers through his too-short hair, reveling in the fact it was orangey-blond hair that was under his touch. “Ah, hahaha, I knew one day I’d finally be ginger!”

And he was a beanstick again, but at least he was a tall bean stick. Donna would squish him. Perhaps he could see Donna again, like this?
‘No.’ Mentally, he sighed. He could never risk it. He knew she was happy, though, Temple-Noble. Rich. Her life was perfect. She traveled now, or so he’d heard.

“Uh, sir?”

“I need clothes!”
He announced. “I need….” What did he need? “Just bring me things, I’ll find something to like.”

And so began a long, interesting day for the worker as various clothings and styles were brought to the man, who tried them all on as if he had no idea what it was he liked. He spun around before the mirror, asked strange questions about his appearance, until at last he settled on something and paid for it, and the man’s time.

The clerk could only wave silently, confused, as the strange man walked out of his life and went across to the café.

So the Doctor returned to the café in new clothing. No longer colorless, he stepped in with shoes that were black, but with bright blue decals clearly representing some brand. The Doctor had been pretty sure they’d glow. They’d match the T.A.R.D.I.S. at least. Straight, clean, black dress pants were worn, but they had decent pockets for all his things. The keys of the T.A.R.D.I.S. resided in them now. A white, button up top was still worn, but there was a pretty purple design near the pocket, almost like a tribal fire moving out from a center. He had thought it looked rather like a star.

It seemed fashionable and clean enough. He wore a black blazer, red thread lining it, over top since it was a bit chilly outside. There was a pretty red handkerchief in the blazer that he’d just liked. If he unfolded it, the design would indeed be like that of a sun exploding, fiery and powerful. It hadn’t looked right around his neck, or as a hat—and really, he didn’t want to hide his hair. It hid the sonic screwdriver marvelously well, too.

He probably should have tried to match the colors better, though.
“About time you got back,” Dixon noted. “I was gonna leave without you.” Donovan wouldn’t let him. “Let’s mosey then.”

The campus was indeed within walking distance. Though, quite a bit was walking distance for a man who spent so much time traveling the worlds. The group appeared to find a crowd had already gathered for the unveiling of the cloaked statue. There was a platform raised up besides it, a podium for a speaker. Cameras were prepared to snap pictures.

The Doctor glanced around, and lifted his hand to the handkerchief. When that statue was unveiled, he’d have to shut down all the electronics so no pictures would end up being taken.
“So, what are you two fine lads studying at this school?” He asked conversationally.

“Programming,”
Dixon answered. It was not what the Doctor would have guessed, and he let his surprise read clear on his face.

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #11 on: October 05, 2013, 05:31:25 am »
The Doctor did not take as long as Donovan had expected, but clearly longer than Dixon had expected. His friend was not a patient man, and he would often show it. Luckily Donovan was with him often enough to keep him out of any trouble. Donovan cleaned up after his friend’s food and wiped the counter down once more before the Doctor came back. He was dressed quite fashionably, Donovan noted.

Though it didn’t seem like the Doctor knew which fashions were currently in style. Don suspected that it was mere a happy coincidence. The employee looked at the time, hung his apron on the wall, clocked himself out, and moved past the counter.

Donovan gave the Doctor an apologetic look as Dixon led the way to the campus.  Donovan followed behind, standing taller than both of his current companions. He was thicker, too, more muscular and built. He looked a little older than he actually was. When they reached the small plaza on campus, crowds had already begun to assemble around the veiled thing. A podium had been set up for the presenter, and a golden string had been attacked to the fabric that covered to statue, to make it easier to reveal.

“Physics and Dimensional Mathematics,” said Donovan. To him, programming was still harder. His mind processed logic a lot like a mathematician, so Physics was a natural talent of his. Dixon and he had been friends since high school, which made it easier to see how they were close friends without studying similar professions.  “Where did you go to school, Doctor?” He asked after he made sure nobody around them was really paying attention.

Several of the school’s faculty began to take their places in seats that were neatly assembled in front of the platform. The pictures that were sure to be taken had to be taken with them in them. That was the whole point about having them sit so close to the statue.

“It’s almost ten,” said Donovan, noticing that a lot more people had crowded behind him. The whole plaza was full at this point.

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #12 on: October 05, 2013, 07:40:19 am »
Programming for Dixon. Physics and dimensional mathematics for Donovan. The Doctor whistled as he heard the subjects—complicated ones, he knew. “Oh, I went to school far away from here,” he answered, considered a lie but ended up saying, “Gallifrey.” It wasn’t as if anyone here had memorized every location on Earth, or even their own country. “Didn’t like school much,” he and the Master had been bullied, he recalled. He remember that bully died, though. The Master, of course. There had been other bullies. “I was in a band though. We didn’t get very far,” he laughed at the memory of it all, “Didn’t study music. Studied to be an ambassador.” His brother had so much freedom by being one.

All that was gone now.

Even the Master. He’d been so good at the drums, too. Now the Doctor understood why.
“Obviously didn’t work out. Here I am,” he shook his head. He was a food critic. Had to remember that. Food critic, not an ambassador. “It’s fun,” yes it most certainly was, “Most days.”

Then there were days like today,
“Excuse me, I want to get a really good look.”

He managed to push his way forward, apologizing as he did. A man began speaking, apparently the dean of the school. The Doctor should have paid more attention, but it was just an introduction of the woman who commissioned the statue, Christine Henderson. Blonde hair, loose and long and wavy, demure, pale-blue suit, cream, open-toe shoes. Human. Definitely human.

The Doctor now stood near the front to observe, to listen, as Christine came to the microphone presented to her.
“I have my entire career to thank this school for,” soft-spoken. Malicious? The Doctor was beginning to doubt that, but he’d been fooled plenty of times. Humans could be so difficult to read, despite all the time he’d spent around them. “It was here I truly became aware of the opportunities in literature, and how truly important these old stories are. As someone far more renowned once said—Fiction is the truth inside the lie.”

‘Stephen King. Brilliant line.’


“And so I wanted to bring something a little different to grace this school’s yard,”
she admitted. “Something that should make people pause and stare, and present them with a wonderful opportunity to truly look at the past, and the future, at once,” she smiled as she turned her head towards the veiled thing, “Without further ado….”

‘Oh, yes, cue!’


The Doctor removed his handkerchief. He faked a sneeze as the cloth was removed, mostly to cover the sonic sound as he pressed a button on the screwdriver. There were no flashes of lights, no clicks of cameras. There was the sound of disappointment as cell phones and professional cameras alike died, the signal released from the sonic screwdriver jamming electronic signals for a mile radius.

Might cause problems later. This was far more important, for that winged mermaid was very clearly a Weeping Angel, hiding her eyes behind her clawed, elongated hands.

And this Christine was very, very aware of that. The Doctor was positive.


Bleu

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #13 on: October 06, 2013, 09:26:09 am »
The Doctor had gone to Gallifrey, apparently. Donovan had never heard of it, and wondered whether it was outside of Britain. The young students had his mind distracted by what the Doctor continue to say, leaving little time for him to really think of his education. The way he spoke was strange, though not at all unpleasant. It was melancholic, yet somehow disconnected. It was unbelievable how much the Doctor aged with his words. A wisdom was present even though he hadn’t said anything particularly wise.

“You’ve clearly made a name for yourself, Doctor.”

It was true. Such credentials and esteem must have meant some sort of success in his field. He didn’t stay long to confirm, for he wanted to get a really good look at the ugly thing. Christine was taking to the podium already, and students from all over the plaza were prepping their camera phones. Even the members of the school paper had brought their technical professional cameras. Donovan fetched a small Polaroid of his own making; it ran manually as opposed to electricity or any other type of energy.

It was broken, but it provided some very interesting pictures. The focus was clear, so it was mostly clear, but it blurred in the edges. It worked better now that it was broken than it did when he had just made it. A happy, miraculous, accident had created a piece of art.

“As ugly as it is,” said Donovan in the middle of Christine’s speech, “I’m glad that we are at least expanding our knowledge of things like this.”

Donovan could hear the speech coming to an end in Christine’s voice. Her hand gripped the veil, and in one quick motioned, she uncovered the statue.

Click.

A perfect shot.

It was uglier than Donovan had expected, creepy in a way that he couldn’t explain. He couldn’t tell why, but the mere sight of it sent a cold shiver down his spine. Its hands were covering its face, and its fingers were long and pointy, like claws. It was clearly a mermaid, and it was clearly stone, but despite all this, Donovan felt that something was hidden in it. An ulterior meaning, perhaps.

Whatever it was, all Donovan felt was a deep regret that he had even taken a picture of it.

When his camera released the small photograph, Donovan took it into his hands, looking at it with a raised brow. The same feeling came through the photograph, and for the very first time Donovan felt that his camera had not captures the beauty of his surroundings. No, it had captured the very essence of the discomfort that the scholar felt.

“It’s still ugly,” said Donovan with a frown. “Why did I think that it wouldn’t be?”

« Last Edit: October 06, 2013, 10:17:23 am by Bleu »

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #14 on: October 06, 2013, 07:56:03 pm »
There was still one fatal click.

The Doctor couldn’t identify it immediately as he looked around him, for the crowd now certainly obscured the two he’d come with. He wasn’t even sure he’d see them again as he was pulled in another direction. The Dean was moving to speak again, but behind him, Christine was speaking to a woman, and had picked up her bag. She was going to leave.

The Doctor cast one last look at the Weeping Angel. He saw it for what it was, but couldn’t help but think of the sirens. They’d never had fishy tails, but he had seen them after they lost their beauty. They were still such beautiful creatures, their song appealing to the soul, but the Muses had cursed them beyond just wearing that crown of feathers. They did not entrap one with physical allure, or even physical promises, but with a song that truly stuck with one, a promise that could not go ignored by even the hardiest sailor.


‘Vale Decem.’


He sighed. He really ought to visit the Ood again. So long as they didn’t start singing Vale Quatuordecim, they’d be fine.
“You, stay,” he told the statue, looked between its splayed fingers as best he could. “I mean it. Stay. I’ll help you.”

It would have smiled, if it could. It would not have been a smile the Doctor would have liked.

He turned quickly as the woman was departing the platform and jogged to catch up with her,
“Excuse me!”

“Yes?” She sounded a bit startled to have a student try to come and speak with her.

“Hello, yes, I was wondering about that statue. I have a friend at a magazine who would really like to know about the idea behind the concept of combining the two ideas of sirens.”


“It…it sort of just came to me one day, out of the blue,”
she answered. “If your friend wants to set up an interview, he can find my contact information on my website.”

“Oh, my friend’s here, he’s—”
there was Donovan! Would he play along? “—he’s right over there. I promise we’ll be real quick, please wait.”

The woman was flustered, opened her mouth to deny, but the Doctor had already hurried off. It was against her to just walk off, so she waited, intending to still leave without giving an interview.


Before the Doctor rejoined the two, Dixon looked from photograph to statue,
“It is ugly,” he always thought sirens were supposed to be pretty things. “Just scan it and edit it in photoshop or something, Don. Then it won’t be.”

He glanced away as he noted their ‘friend’ talking to Christine, before his eyes fell on them. It seemed to inspire something in him, for he hurried over to the two of them.
“Hello again,” he greeted, looked between Dixon and Donovan. He saw the camera. That would make him seem convincing as an interviewer, “I need your help. Can you lie for a little bit? It’s really very important, and I promise I will explain.”

“What do you need him to lie for?”
Though over the Doctor’s shoulder he could still see Christine waiting, not happy from what he could make out. His question went ignored.

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #15 on: October 06, 2013, 09:38:17 pm »
The Doctor went to Christine, and then back to them. What could they be talking about if not the ugly statue? Why was the siren so important to the Doctor? He seemed excited about something – or was it concern? When he spoke to them, at first Donovan believed it was to both of them in general. When the question came, however, Donovan knew that it was to him whom the Doctor was referring to.  He wanted Donovan to lie, and to Christine no less! Did he look like a liar, or like someone who would be okay with lying?

‘I guess I do,’ he thought secretly.

Donovan was not against the idea of lying, he just wondered what could be so important that it would lead a food critic to ask a man he just met to lie for him for seemingly no reason. Still, something about the tone the Doctor had when he spoke sparked the feeling of importance in the subject – as if the topic were crucial in some way. It if weren’t important, and the Doctor confessed it to be, he wouldn’t have asked.

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” said Donovan to Dixon as he and the Doctor approached Christine. Donovan took the picture and his camera and put them in his pocket, not thinking much of the picture in that moment. “Okay, what do you need me to do?”

Don could work with little information, and he was clever on the spot. He could improvise well, and his wit had gotten him far already. So much was his talent at such things that he had even at one point considered pursuing a career in the dramatic arts. When his agents considered modeling instead of acting, however, he decided best to avoid it. Now, he had found his true passion in dimensional mathematics and physics.

Still, why couldn’t he have a little fun with acting?

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #16 on: October 06, 2013, 10:02:41 pm »
The Doctor beamed at the man’s willingness to go along with it. Either he was fine with lying, or thought the Doctor had a good reason. Either one worked at this moment, though he hoped it was the latter as he turned away from Dixon and led Donovan towards Christine. “Just follow my lead.” It would all be explained in dialogue.

Christine opened her mouth to protest once they were within range of her voice,
“I’m sorry for the delay,” he noted the camera, the picture being put away. ‘Drat.’ He would have to get that picture from Donovan and destroy it. Honesty might work best there. He had already promised to explain. “Christine, this is Donovan, we work for the same magazine,” psychic paper, the wallet that held it was removed from his pant’s pocket and flashed. If Donovan looked, he would notice the magazine name had changed to one much more familiar. A very popular magazine. "It would be wonderful if you could spare a little time to be interviewed; this statue and the idea is really, very, fascinating."

A magazine that Christine would love to be in.
“Oh?” Her tune changed. “Well, I do have a bit of time.” Really, she had a lot of time. All the time in the world. “Where would you like to talk?”

“Humm, Don?”
He looked to him, “We need some place private where we can talk to Miss Henderson.” Private, if only so it would be easier to ask her how, exactly, she’d encountered this Weeping Angel and brought it here. And why, of course. “You know this area a bit better than I, where should we go?” They could stay on campus easily enough, but perhaps Donovan would have other places in mind. 

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #17 on: October 07, 2013, 01:21:13 am »
‘Follow your lead…I can do that.’

Donovan moved in a way that was familiar with the Doctor, like they were old friends. Donovan shook hands with Christine, whom he hoped had never seen him working at the café or at the bar. When the Doctor raised his wallet, just like he had earlier in the day, he saw his credentials change. They no longer said that he was a food critic for a well-known magazine, but that he was some sort of Doctor of History that worked for a magazine that was even more famous.

An international, incredibly notable, magazine.

Did it also have his name on it?

The Doctor did not allow much time for Donovan to read everything on his badge, and although he felt very confused about he had changed everything so quickly, he did not let it show on his face. He would ask the Doctor about that later. The scholar found it funny that Christine had not seemed to be all that enthusiastic about the interview until she saw which magazine they were writing for. Her face changed completely after that – probably clearing her schedule to make time for them.

“The Library has several conference rooms available to visitors,” Donovan made it a point to sound experienced, “in past interviews we’ve used them, they provide the perfect setting for a private interview. It’s not far from here, if I remember correctly.”

Of course he remembered correctly, he was a student on campus after all. Still, his brows furrowed as he pretended to try and remember where exactly the library was.

“Ah yes,” he continued the fallacy, “I think that’s it, over there.”

If Christine found it appropriate, Donovan would lead them there. He’d be closer to find out what was really going on and why the Doctor was so intrigued by the statue. Little did Donovan know that the image captured by the picture he had taken of the siren was moving slowly in his pocket.   


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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #18 on: October 07, 2013, 02:09:15 am »
The Doctor tried not to smile too widely. ‘Atta boy, Donny!’ Donny. Would he like Donny? Questions for later. Stick to Don and Donovan for now, mostly Donovan.

“Then, let us go there,”
Christine said, a smile gracing her lips. She recalled the library. She spent so many hours there, so many days, it seemed. The Doctor nodded to Donovan and the young man soon led them on their way to the library.

Small-talk.
“So, you said you owe this school your career, yes? How many things have you published now?” Literature, right? She’d said literature.

“Oh, I’ve published three collections of short stories, and I’m presently working on a novel series. I’m up to book 3 published, but book 4 will be out soon. They’re all based on the ancient Greek stories.”


“About sirens?”

“Oh, my first story was—a short story,”
she said. “It’s always stuck with me. You know they through themselves into the ocean after they were passed by Odysseus?”

“I do, yes,”
curses.

“And then we’ve gotten the idea of sirens as mermaids, more or less,”
a chuckle, “So, I thought, perhaps that is what actually happened. Sirens were immortal creatures. Perhaps they adapted to their new environment instead of dying, and became the mermaid we know today. Well—I know it sounds foolish, to say that we know when there’s no evidence—”

“No, no, no,”
the Doctor shook his head, “it isn’t foolish at all. Like you said, there is truth in fiction. There’s a wide universe out there, Miss Henderson, and so much of the ocean we’ve never explored.” Humans hadn’t reached the bottom of the ocean yet, had they? Hadn’t mapped it fully yet, right? No, that wasn’t for another few centuries. “There might be mermaids, or aliens, or sirens, and gods. There might be so much.”

She smiled,
“You’re kind, Mr. Smith.”

“Doctor, please, call me Doctor.”


“Doctor, then.”


Into the library, the Doctor approached the student working behind the desk,
“Excuse me, we’d like to use one of the conference rooms to interview the lovely alumni who donated that siren statue out there,” he pointed back the way he’d came, though even if it wasn’t visible he hoped the student was aware of what was going on around campus.

Or at least apathetic enough to still let them use a room. 


Bleu

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #19 on: October 07, 2013, 04:12:01 am »
The Doctor and Christine conversed while Donovan took out his camera, pretending to be taking pictures of the campus. He had already taken pictures of all the interesting sights on campus, but pretending didn’t hurt. When the polaroid printed out the images, Donovan merely placed them with the one with the statue. Surely he would be able to take pictures throughout the interview, to make it more believable – keep up this charade that the Doctor was so insistent on keeping.

“It’s a nice campus,” said he, leading them. 

It made sense to Donovan when the Doctor asked Christine to call him that – if he took on multiple identities, then a common code name could prove very useful in confusing situations. He didn’t ask immediately, but instead made a mental note to make sure that’s why he liked being called just Doctor. Donovan assumed that sometimes he changed names, too. It was to be expected.

They reached the library easily, for it was a short walk. Behind the counter stood a student, thankfully one that Donovan knew. In other circumstances, this could have been bad – but Donovan knew how to be discreet, with very few words, very few glances, he could say a lot. A brief glance was exchanged, and no more.

The Doctor asked the student to assign a conference room to them, but he hesitated. Donovan was the farthest from the desk, that way he could comfortably signal his friend to give them a pass. It looked like the student had never seen either of the other people Donovan was with. If Donovan, such an exemplary student, was asking for a favor, it must have been one of great importance.

“I have a conference room available in the first floor and the second – if the first, it’s through those double doors,” the student offered them a key with the room number on it, and pointed to the room. “If you would prefer the one in the second floor,” he offered them a second key, “you can take the elevator or the stairs, and it should be just above this one. Double doors, can’t miss it. When you are done you can return the keys here.”

The student did not look twice at Donovan, for it was clear that Donovan was trying to be discreet about the whole thing.

“And welcome to the campus,” he finalized their engagement before returning to the computer.

Donovan led the way to the chosen conference room, used the key to open it up, and closed it once they had settled themselves inside.

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #20 on: October 07, 2013, 06:14:05 am »
“First floor should be just fine,” The Doctor said as he took the keys to that floor, and allowed Donovan to lead the way. He passed the key off to Donovan, and soon enough they were in.

Doors locked. Christine glanced back at that,
“Don’t want any students interrupting. Please, take a seat,” the Doctor encouraged, and she did so, easing in to it. “Now, where shall we begin?” He mused to himself. “I know, who did you have fix that statue up?”

“Fix?”


The Doctor laughed, sliding into a chair himself. It hadn’t been a mistaken word, but he knew she wouldn’t confess that. Not yet.
“My apologies, I meant make. Who did you have make it?”

“It was a local stoneworker,”
she answered, “No one famous, they want to add too much of their own, personal touch to things—can’t listen to what the commissioner wants.”

He nodded, sympathetically,
“So, the name then?”

She made one up on the spot,
“Thomas Nat,” she answered. The Doctor nodded, and she smiled, “I thought your friend was the interviewer.”

“Oh, yes,”
he laughed, “Sorry, I let my own curiosity get away with me.” He stood up and looked to Donovan, “I’m sorry, you’ve humored me again,” as if he always did this, let himself get carried away. “May I see those pictures you’ve been snapping?” He was hopeful.

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #21 on: October 07, 2013, 04:35:26 pm »
Something was strange about how the Doctor asked his first question. It sounded like he was asking how she got ahold of it, as opposed to how she had it made. He rephrased her question, but Christine merely answered it, brushing the artist aside as a local working. This was interesting, for Donovan had never met anybody by that name, and he lived in a small, mostly Universitarian, city. He was almost sure that such a man did not exist.

It seemed that he Doctor thought this, too.

Donovan did not stir when Christine revealed to him that he was supposed to be the interviewer, and the Doctor played along. He would have to play along as well, then. The handsome student moved closer to Christine and sat in front of her, as if he were interviewing her on live TV. He knew this was often standard even in an informal interview.

He fetched the pictures from his pockets, handing them to the Doctor one by one. The last picture, which was of the Siren, looked completely different. Instead of the Siren he had taken a picture of, a stone statue had one of its arms outstretched, closer to him than the podium, now. It’s face was still hidden, covered by the other hand, as if weeping into it.

'What the hell?'


He gave it to the Doctor, trying to keep his expression detached from the absurdity that he had just seen.

“You say Thomas Nat is a local worker?” Said Donovan turning to look at Christine, crossing his legs, giving her his undivided attention. He got the impression that the Doctor wanted specifics about how she came up with the idea of the siren, and how it was made. It would focus on that, to see if she was really trying to hide something about the ugly thing. “Where did you find him, Mrs. Henderson? I’m sure that if he’s local, he’s done all sorts of sculpturing for the city?”

He had not forgotten her name.

“I assume that you picked a local worker precisely to get exactly what you wanted in the sculpture. Could you tell me what traits or characteristics those are?”

A test to see how well she knew the actual sculpture.


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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #22 on: October 07, 2013, 04:55:31 pm »
The Doctor took the pictures, noted the way the Angel had moved when he took that one in hand. ‘I told you not to move.’ Why didn’t anyone ever listen to him? Couldn’t everyone just get along?

Christine was given more questions, and she must have realized something was wrong with her lie.
“He isn’t local from around this area, he’s from my hometown,” she answered, “He was the son of a friend of mine.”

“Was?”


And now Christine chuckled,
“I suppose even I err. He is,” she corrected herself.

The Doctor smiled, continued shuffling through the pictures as if they interested him. Really, he was trying to catch it without its hands covering its face. Christine continued to answer,
“Yes, of course. Obviously, I wanted it to have both wings and scales, but also those elongated fingers. Her hands had to be...more inhuman,” she said.

“Why that pose?”


“The sirens always seemed like such sad creatures, I thought it should be expressed in some way by having her weeping into her hands.”


‘Gotcha.’ “Weeping into her hands? No, that’s not her pose,”
The Doctor’s confusion sounded sincere. The Weeping Angel had both hands outstretched now, no doubt aware the Doctor was not ignorant. “This pose,” he placed the photo down, tapped it.

Christine looked down, and she went white.
“Oh, you’ve been clever, keeping it under wraps, not allowing photographers.”

“I…I don’t…did you manipulate that photo?”
She was playing dumb. The Doctor was hardly impressed.

“You know what will happen, Christine. Eventually, there will be more photos of it, and then there will be more of them. You don’t want that. You can’t want that.”
He spoke calmly, truly hoping he wasn’t wrong, that she wasn’t malicious. “You kept the photographers away for so long. Why would you bring it here?”

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #23 on: October 07, 2013, 05:18:23 pm »
She was getting nervous.

“My camera is Polaroid, self-made,” said Donovan, getting more and more confused by the second. “One cannot manipulate those kinds of pictures.”

He showed Christine the camera.

So they could see that the statue had moved, too! He wasn’t crazy; his camera had not broken even more and produced a shifted image. No, he had seen the original, and it was not that. What exactly was that thing? The Doctor seemed to know, but Christine continued to pretend to be ignorant about the whole thing. Donovan suspected that the Doctor was not really a food critic at all, which should have been clear to him since the beginning. Why hadn’t he seen that before? 

The conversation continued, and the Doctor changed in his tone. He sounded like he had known what the statue was all along, and he probably did. He had sounded incredibly interested in it back at the café, and so eager to accompany him and Dixon to see it. It was all connected, and Donovan was sure of it, now.

But what did he mean, ‘there will be more photos of it, and then there will be more of them’? Was that thing in his picture alive? Was the statue? No, certainly not. It couldn’t be. It was physically impossible for something made of stone to move. He knew what composed stones, he had studied them. No there was a separate factor that he was missing – something extraordinary that would explain everything.

And the Doctor would explain everything in time. He had promised so.

The charade was collapsing, but Donovan would not give in to Christine’s tricks. He merely kept to his seat, looking directly at the suddenly pale woman. “You should just tell us the truth, Mrs. Henderson.”

He would not pretend to be ignorant, but he wanted to know what those statues were, and why they were so important. So…dangerous?


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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #24 on: October 07, 2013, 11:26:52 pm »
Christine examined the camera. No, she knew full well the picture wasn’t doctored. She knew it was moving, even in the picture, she knew the consequences.

Donovan pressed for the truth. Christine decided to play a card she was good at,
“It threatened me,” she spoke quietly. The Doctor placed a hand on the table, and her voice trembled, “I…I found it in Bermuda,” that much was true. She had gone to take a vacation shortly after signing a contract to have her series published. She was thrilled beyond belief, when she encountered it. It was so ruined, so devastated, and yet so hauntingly beautiful to her.

Christine had wanted it, and so she arranged to have it brought back over with her, but during this process her then-boyfriend ended up…misplaced.

A letter came to her that warned her about the angel, delivered just seconds later.

The angel was not here as part of a revenge scheme against it, though.
“It took out the throat of someone, I don’t even know who,” attempts to communicate with the angel had been for naught, initially. It had realized she was talking to it. It had realized she wanted something from it.

It wanted something from her, too.

Plenty of college students ended up missing when they left home for the first time. They had come to an accord.
“It sent my boyfriend away, and it told me it needed to go somewhere more…more in sight. I was afraid of it, and so I tried to keep cameras from getting pictures of it before now. I didn’t want it to reproduce, I didn’t want there to be any more of them, Doctor, but I…I was a coward.”

Of course now that it was out in the open, there would be pictures of it.

The Doctor sighed. He picked up the polaroid.
“It is a good picture,” he admitted. “I feel for them, I do. Such lonely creatures. Right now, it can’t do anything—staring at it, they can’t move when they’re being looked at. Can you imagine such a life? That’s why they hide their eyes, Donovan,” he said. “They’re called Weeping Angels. The Lonely Assassins. Only creature in the universe to kill you kindly,” he didn’t look away from the picture, “Don, I need to destroy this picture.” He was asking permission in the statement. “Anything that holds the image of an Angel can become an Angel, and then we have to do something about that statue out there…probably this evening, now is no good.” Now meant all the school security and students about.

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #25 on: October 08, 2013, 12:10:20 am »
At last, she admitted guilt, but not at all in the way Donovan was expecting. The statue threatened her? It was a statue! It couldn’t speak, lest of all threaten! The more this conversation progressed, the more Donovan found it hard not to look completely astonished. Christine had found it in Bermuda – that much made sense. He could take comfort in knowing that he recognized those names. The feeling of comfort did not last.

Donovan put his camera away, and looked at the Doctor.

‘Who are you?’

His face asked, but no words left his lips.

“You can’t still be talking about the statue?”
The question was asked as if seeking confirmation, but when none came – he shook his head in disbelief.

Donovan had always prided himself in being able to control his emotions. He always knew how to push them aside if they distracted him, and they had never bothered him when he had other things to do. When he had the time, he would deal with them. Everything was efficient to him. This situation, however, was becoming incredibly ridiculous.

“So then they can move if nobody looks at them,” he kept his composure, but it wasn’t easy. “What happens when you can’t look at them, what happens when people blink?” It was statistically impossible for everyone to blink at the same time, but what if it was only just them three? What if they became too numerous to keep track of? What if someone was completely alone with it? It'd be impossible to defend against it.

The Doctor asked Donovan’s permission to destroy the picture. He appreciated his thoughtfulness.

“Of course,”
he said to him.

He had one condition, however.

“I don’t want Dixon to be affiliated with this, not if we are in danger with that thing.” The Weeping Angel. He looked at his watch. The evening would see traffic in campus still, but if they managed to seal off the plaza for something legitimate, then they could work together and get the statue somewhere where it couldn’t possibly hurt anybody.

Such a place was still not present in his mind.

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #26 on: October 08, 2013, 12:47:45 am »
The Doctor waited for Donovan to come to the realization on his own that, yes, he was still talking about the statue. It was a gradual understanding. “When people blink, they move,” the Doctor answered. “They’re very fast,” he was still looking at the picture, refusing to blink. When he was given permission, he crumpled it up quickly. “Lighter?”

“Here,” Christine offered one up quickly, and the Doctor lit the picture on fire, placing it on the table. He would smother it soon enough.

“You should warn your friend in some way,”
the Doctor suggested. “To stay away from the area. The Weeping Angel will likely target students wandering by at night,” he noted. He then pressed his hand down upon the small fire he’d created to extinguish it.

“OW!” As if he hadn’t expected it to hurt. He jumped back from the paper, shook his hand out while holding his wrist, “I forgot how much fire hurts,” he whimpered, looked at the black mark on his hand.

“Just, who are you?”


“I’m The Doctor,”
he answered her. He lifted his eyes from his hand, “You’ll be helping us move this thing. Ah, er, we have to go about that somehow, don’t we?” He wasn’t sure how to manage it. “We need to keep that area clear, yes. Could you say there was some defect to the statue that needs to be fixed immediately?”

“I…I suppose,”
she answered.

“Lovely!”
He looked to Donovan, “Then we’ll have to get a truck, yes, and…take it…somewhere.”

“I have been keeping it in storage nearby,”
Christine offered.

“Take it there, then, yes,”
he agreed. “Get a truck, move it, and two of us will have to ride in the back of the truck to keep an eye on the thing.” He had started pacing now. He wasn’t sure quite how to keep the Weeping Angel from causing harm here. He didn’t want to starve it, but he couldn’t have it going about taking the life from humans. “Ah ha! We’ll sink it. It can feed off the fishes, like your own siren, and in the dark of the ocean it won’t have to worry so much about being seen!” Surely the angel could consent to this idea, not that he’d ask. The only way he’d get any answers would be if he sacrificed someone, and that was not happening. “Honestly, I don’t know why they can’t just feed off of animals in the first place.”

“Do you really think that will work?”
Christine asked.

“It’s worth a shot,”
clearly, he was not certain. “The only other thing I can think of would be to get another Weeping Angel, and find a way to make them look at each other, locking them in place forever, but we don’t have another Weeping Angel.”

“We could have had one.”


The Doctor looked down at the ashes. He slapped his forehead. He didn't agree with that idea, did not want to bring another Weeping Angel into existence, but she had a point.


Bleu

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #27 on: October 08, 2013, 04:53:46 am »
“You sound like you’ve done this before,” noted Donovan, and he didn’t doubt it one bit. There was no way someone would know so much about something so rare without having experienced it before.  Especially not someone as young as the Doctor.

Unless…

No, that couldn’t be it. Then again, what kind of human forgets how fire burns you?

“I suppose that live cameras work the same as pictures, so that wouldn’t work…” he spoke as he planned several scenarios in his own head. It had an image of an angel, which was risky. If they dropped it in the ocean, it could easily make its way back to the mainland, couldn’t it? After all, it’s just stone. Could it drown? Would it really be happy in a life like that? They needed to find a safe place for it, and they needed to find a way to prevent people from taking pictures of it outside.

“What about a mirror? Could we trap it with its own gaze?”


He couldn’t help suggesting it. It would be like looking at each other. If a series of mirrors could be arranged specifically to freeze the Weeping Angel in place, couldn’t they do that? Lock it up that way? What about just trying to destroy it in its rock form? Smashing it to pieces while it can’t move?

Donovan took out his phone between thoughts, and opened Dixon’s contact to compose a text.

‘I need you to stay away from the siren statue.
Just don’t go near it.
Trust me on this. I’ll talk later.
-D’

“I don’t think we should take another picture of it, if they are that quick, it would be too dangerous.” Donovan was glad that the Doctor burned the picture. It had already moved. The realization that he had actually been in such danger didn’t immediately pop into Don’s mind. He was too worried about trying to stop it from hurting everyone else. “The best thing we can do for now is to go back to the plaza, cover up the statue, and wait until nightfall. Make sure nobody else takes a picture of it. We’ll have plenty of time to think of something until then, right?” 

Krystal Itzume

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #28 on: October 08, 2013, 06:17:54 am »
The Doctor smiled, “No, never done this before in my life,” he made it apparent that he was lying by his tone.

He said something about a mirror, and the Doctor considered it.
“That creates another angel, but it is one way we could get the two to quantum lock, if necessary.” The Doctor remembered his adventure with Amy and Rory, and how that tactic did seem to work. “We’ll have to be quick with smashing the mirror after it gives us one angel.” Those two angels now stood at Trafalgar Square, forever locked together. “That storage of yours, perhaps we could fill it with mirrors?”

“That is a possibility,”
she said.

“Excellent, then, we’ll have to get a lot of mirrors.”
Turn the lights out, make sure the angel didn’t know, and then light up the room as soon as the cover was removed from the angel, before it could take anyone. Or something like that. There were kinks to work out.

“I can go cover it,”
Christine rose, chair pushing back with her. “It thinks it can trust me,” she noted as the reason why. “I will also be able to explain about the defect to the Dean.” She glanced between them. “I’ll take care of the mirrors. You two should see about getting a truck to move the statue.”

“Yes, yes,”
the Doctor agreed. “Donovan, would you get her phone number? We can get in touch easier that way.” And he already had his phone out.

Though, a message came through as the Doctor asked him to record the number.

Dixon, of course.


Well, now I’m intrigued.
Better talk sooner than later.
I’ll go see what it is otherwise.

Bleu

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Re: Doctor Who: An Ocean Of Time [Closed]
« Reply #29 on: October 08, 2013, 07:55:28 pm »
‘Shit,’ thought Donovan to himself. He wasn't used to cursing, at all. Why couldn’t he just listen? He couldn’t say everything through text, and the chances of him believing him anyway, were not good. ‘Listen, man, please.’

Just trust me, man.
I’ll explain later, promise.


Donovan looked over at Christine and typed her phone number into his contacts and saved it. His phone battery life was excellent, so there would be no need to worry on that account. He rose from his chair, looking at the remains of his burnt picture. A tingle formed on his skin – not fear, but almost fear. He turned his gaze to the Doctor, secretly wondering how they were going to go about trapping the Weeping Angel. It somehow seemed like it would be harder than it looked.

“I have a truck,” said Donovan – the only gift he accepted from his parents. It was certainly big enough. “I don’t use it, everything is so close to my apartment. I don’t know where you buy mirrors, though. I’m sure there is something around here – everything is around here.” The keys were actually still in his apartment; he’d never gotten around to making a habit of taking his keys with him. Silly, but true.

“We’ll meet you at the plaza as soon as we have everything, then,” said Donovan to Christine, wishing her luck on dealing with the Angel. If they’d prefer to meet somewhere else, Donovan didn’t mind. He had a phone, specifics could easily be exchanged.

Eventually, the group dispersed and Donovan led the way from the library, returning the key to the counter, and making his way back to his apartment. He traveled quickly, jogging his way there with ease – literally taking him less than five minutes to get there. The complex was large enough to have a separate parking lot – it looked like many students lived in that same place. He only hoped that Dixon hadn’t made his way to his apartment, for he had given his friend a spare key – for emergencies.

That would require some premature explaining – explaining that Donovan was not sure he was ready for.

“This is me,” he said, jiggling the keys and pushing the door open.

The inside was small, humble – but everything was in its place. Books were scattered across the coffee table, but otherwise, everything was more or less clean. “Feel free to use the loo,” said Donovan, realizing it might be a while before they could think of such things. He pointed to the door that led him to the bathroom, just in case. He found his keys on the kitchen counter easily enough.

Now, mirrors.