Prompt 137.4 for oncoming_storms
Prompt 137.4: Five things:
- July, 1940. London. What would normally have been wonderful summer weather, marred by the sound of explosions. The memory sickens me now, as it usually does when I look back on that era Earth. I was there to save some valuables from the ruins of bombed out buildings, to liberate them and keep them in a safe place. Dodo was there with me, this little warm form frightened against my side. So like Susan was. I'm glad Susan didn't see that... one less terrible act of man colouring her perceptions.
I don't believe that Steven realized the significance of it. He seemed more interested in the technology of the moment. Or maybe that was what he was looking at to avoid thinking about it. I can't be sure. There were people out there dying, and this terrible, acrid odour filled the air, wafted right into the console room. If TARDISes could choke...
When the bombing stopped I followed him outside. There were a few places that I needed to have a look around. I did find a few things. A book here, an old ivory handled hairbrush that would be unknown in the future, a xylophone. Priceless artefacts that are scattered around the ruins of gingerbread houses and once busy shops, in need of retrieval and preservation.
I still have that xylophone somewhere. I should probably drag it out and use it, just to do its former owner service. That's why I took it after all. - June, 1963. The Soviet Union. 12:30 Moscow time I'm standing in a crowd with Jamie at my side. There was an enormous screen set up, displaying the jubilant face of Valentina Tereshkova as her shuttle was being launched. Jamie kept asking things and I don't even recall what it was I said. It wasn't important. There was a very rude man who kept moving in front of me. He had this fluffy, furry hat. Ushankas, I believe they are called. Yes, that's it, and one of those large heads with equally large hair and he kept managing to get the lot of it in my way!
Suddenly I notice that Jamie has moved further back. Not only that, he climbs up on a table to watch the proceedings. I suppose he was having the same issue that I was. So after a moment of trying to convince him to come down... I have no idea what came over me, I got up on there with him myself to watch.
From this vantage point the sound came through loud and clear, and I was struck by the awe inspiring vision that was this woman touching the stars, defeating the odds and breaking records while she was at it. Jamie had this brilliant smile on his face, and I could tell that some of the people in attendance were appalled by the presence of this abrupt kilted man enjoying the introduction of a lovely new addition to the cosmos. I don't know what I was more enraptured by, her defying the odds? Or him doing the same in his own way. - Early August, 1971. It was supposed to be getting nice that time of year. That's the part that irritates me most. I wanted to do something nice for Jo. She'd been so good, so loyal an assistant all that time. Put up with me when mankind was so steadily getting on my nerves. She deserved a break from it all.
But oh no, she wouldn't be permitted a break. Of course I had to hear about the stories of the old carousel. The one made by hand, all the horses done with impeccable detail. About the two spirits that lingered around it, eerie children beckoning people to play with them, to keep them company. So what do I do? I drag her into it. Like I always do. Curiosity. I suppose I've been iffy about cats on so many regenerations because I keep sharing their curiosity and I know just where it gets you.
When they reached us, they cornered us... I could feel the psychic pressure all around, making the hair on the backs of my hands stand on end. It was all I could do to hold her back. After Zoe and Jamie, I couldn't lose her. Not Jo.
I still feel guilty for it. There was nothing gained for her there. Just senseless shock. Horror. I still hope that she forgives me. I saved her, even if I couldn't save them from their prison. There's nothing quite so irritating as feeling inadequate and useless. - July, 1937. Nikumaroro, or as the Europeans liked to call it 'Gardner Island'. I always liked the name Amelia. There's something whimsical about it. A-meeee-lia... anyway, I was in the company of Sarah Jane and the TARDIS did one of her usual little abrupt landings. Abrupt in that it was storming and the old girl doesn't take well to lightning. It's enough to throw her sensors off.
We landed on the beach, fortunately, the TARDIS off-kilter and cock-eyed and I had to climb out of her sideways. That hat I wore at the time was useful for blocking out the rain, but it sort of poured off the brim when it came down in thick sheets. And when the wind picked up I had to hold it on. I was so busy with the thing that I barely noticed the woman that appeared out of the dark before me.
She gave me this brilliant gap toothed smile, like she hadn't seen a person in ages, and I knew precisely who it was. Amelia Earhart. I introduced myself of course. In the dark and the wind and the rain, waves threatening to wash up higher and said, "I'm the Doctor!"
And she said, "You could be Nancy for all I care!" And gave me a hug.
Now, really, what does one do when they find Amelia Earhart? They take her back to the TARDIS of course. That was the best cup of cocoa that I've ever had the pleasure of sharing with someone. Sarah stole my thunder when I said I'd found Amelia Earhart. She said the TARDIS did it. But I left the TARDIS and I found her.
I believe she adapted well to piloting spacecraft and adapted quite well to 4023 when I took her there. A bit of a culture shock but, oh well.... - May 1997, Stockbridge. I was so sweaty after that cricket game. Fantastic game, too. I still dabble a bit, but not like I did then. A couple of gentlemen commented on my antiquated cricket whites but it was largely favourable. Seems that at least a few individuals still had an appreciation for the classics.
There was a tent up beside the pitch and I went over because I was feeling a bit peckish. Indulged in a bottle of water while Tegan and Turlough had wondered off to who knows where. Probably to get themselves in trouble. This nice Finnish woman offered me a sample of something called a tippaleipa. So I ate one, and it was very good.
It was ridiculously good. Marvellously good. The problem was... it was so good it made me forget how to count. I could make it through one, two, three, and four but I seemed to forget the number that came before 'too many'.
Tegan came up to me to tell me something, and as I went to respond I experienced this terrible pain right in my gullet. As it turns out, it's an extraordinarily bad idea even for Time Lords to exert themselves at great length and then oh so wisely stuff their mouths with delicious oily fried confectioneries covered in powdered sugar.
She jabbed me in the stomach to make her point to whatever it was she was saying. Good thing I had the self control to run off.
I've not had one of those since. Thinking about it though, I might hunt a few up again. I say its been long enough and I'm not as svelte as I was in those days.
Character: The Seventh Doctor
Fandom: Doctor Who
Words: 1,354
Notes: Planned and written along with 5th_doctor, whose entry is here. The Doctors mentioned aren't based off any particular Doctor player, neither are the companions. It's just two different perspectives on the same head-canon events.