The Not Very Exciting Journal of Asimus

Thu, 13 Nov 2008 22:14:13 GMT

Sun, 19 Oct 2008 18:45:22 GMT

What Be Your Nerd Type? Your Result: Musician Doo doo de doo waaaa doo de doo! (<-- That's you playing something.) Everyone appreciates the band/orchestra geeks and the pretty voices. Whether you sing in the choir, participate in a school/local band, or sit at home writing music, you contribute a joy to society that everyone can agree on. Yay! Welcome to actually doing something for poor, pathetic human souls. (Just kidding.)
Gamer/Computer Nerd
Literature Nerd
Social Nerd
Artistic Nerd
Science/Math Nerd
Drama Nerd
Anime Nerd
What Be Your Nerd Type? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

ever so slightly interesting, considering i spend most my time at a computer, either gaming or doing arty stuff...

friend list

Sun, 19 Oct 2008 14:17:06 GMT

I dunno why people I don't know and have never spoken to are adding me to their friends list. I have not written fanfic in ages, and I don't intend to write any more, you can read without friending me. My friends list is for my friends. No one else.

Angered...

Wed, 03 Sep 2008 11:25:47 GMT

I hate ranting on LJ, I usually rant at my friends. But I have no friends around currently to rant at, so sorry LJ...

Girls night out means girls night out right? From that you assume, a bunch of female friends are going out. I had organised a girls night out with my nmate who i havent seen in aaaages! All is well, find hunky dory. She tells me today, the day of the grand adventure, that shes bringing her dopey lazy wanker of a boyfriend.

Rule 1. NO BOYS ON A GIRLS NIGHT OUT. I have fellas I would have wanted to bring, and now its too late.

This isn't a girls night out any more. It's a date for her and her boyfriend, and I am going to be chaperone. OH JOY.

I want to make excuses, but really, all there is to say is, I HATE YOUR BOYFRIEND AND DO NOT WISH TO SOCIALISE WITH HIM UNDER ANY CURCUMSTANCES. Of course I can't say that because I might upset her. She's very sensitive about people calling her boyfriend a knob, because she knows its true yet is too afraid to be out there alone and wont ditch him.

I am now going to go text every one of my male friends and beg for their company. They can't all have jobs...

Mash Game: Predict Your Future at eSPIN-the-Bottle

Wed, 06 Aug 2008 17:38:11 GMT



		I will marry Christopher Eccleston.
		After a wild honeymoon, We will settle down in Miami in our fabulous Apartment.
		We will have 21 kid(s) together.
		Our family will zoom around in a Purple Ford Fiesta.
		I will spend my days as a Special Effects Supervisor, and live happily ever after.

Doctor Who Withdrawel

Sat, 19 Jul 2008 10:20:17 GMT

Because Doctor Who has finally come to an end, the people of my forum, have decided we are going to, each week, watch an old episode of Doctor Who. We are starting off at Series 1, so if anyone would like to join the Chris Doctor discussions, feel free to pop over.

To The Forum

The Doctor's Journal

Sat, 12 Jul 2008 13:26:24 GMT

Spoiler Warning: If you have yet to see Series 4 to completion, skip this.

Title: The Day to Day Life of An Earthbound Clone Doctor
Author: Clone_Doctor
Genre: Humour, Romance, Adventure (of day to day life)
Characters: The Doctor, Rose, Jackie, Donna, OC's, 10/Rose
Synopsis: One week after the events of Jounrey's End, and the Doctor is still keeping his journal. Life is looking up it seems.

Note: This is not a fanfiction as such. This is posted on behalf of my friend, who is keeping a diary in the character of the Doctor, post Journey's End. However, it is much fun, and deserves a pimp. He posts nigh on every day, so keep an eye on it.

06/07/2008
07/07/2008
08/07/2008
09/07/2008
10/07/2008
11/07/2008
12/07/2008

P.S. He loves comments, keep them coming.

Money money money

Fri, 27 Jun 2008 17:59:55 GMT

Ok, so I have finally managaed to deal with college and get into work. My job is interesting, to say the least. Mostly because we have one very incompetant member of staff, in a very important position. For those of you who don't know, I work in a Quality Assurance Lab, as an Analytical Lab Technician. We check all the products made by manufacturing before they can be sent out to the customers. However, our head of manufacturing is an idiot. He refuses to stick to the Time Table he is provided (even though QA are his boss, and we need sampls done to our schedule do to the nature of the products we produce) and so things end up coming in late, or wrong, or both late and wrong. It is hilarious for me, who obviously, is in a position that can't be blamed, and refuses to get stressed about my job. But it can be a pain. I have been sat on my arse all day playing Golf on the PC. Why? Because a product is days late to the customer. Manufacturing screwed up the making of it. Because we demanded they take it back and fix it, their head had a tantrum (yes apparently he is 5 and three quarters). This means he refused to do anymore work on it. of course, it is very high priority because it is late, and so it needs to be turned round as fast as possible. My Manager told me to stay in the lab on stand by, so we didn't waste a single second on the analysis. However, all the jobs i had left were out of the lab, so I ended up doing nothing. Aaaaaaaaall day. And still, when I finally get a sample, at 3pm, which is too late to do anything on it, because this type of chemistry takes time, the initial results show it is still fucked up. So Monday, it will have to go back to Manufacturing, and the whole thing will have to be done again. Joy.

However, despite the irritation. I love my job. Ok, I don't love it. I find it rather boring. I look forward to Fridays with a passion not known to me before. But I like the feeling I get from it. I like working with people who are (mostly) in my age bracket, or of my intellegence, or share my interests. I go to college with 16 year olds who can't egt into their schools sixth form. They are all (but a few) chavs. None of them are interested in much, other than shooting things in the gaming modules. I find myself intellectually stunted. I find myself bored by them. But at work, I feel I can thrive mentally. I enjoy my break time, talking literature with some of the guys from the other lab. I like talking music with the other tech in my lab. I just love it. :)

Glamorgan

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 20:42:58 GMT

As some of you may know, I am planning to go to the University of Glamorgan to study Computer Animation. To get in, one needs to complete an interview and produce a portfolio. My mother, in all her supportivness, makes no secret of the fact she thinks I suck, and stand no chance. However, despite her put downs and glib remarks, it has not been all bad. She thinks I am so bad, she bought me a drawing book (for beginners) and a graphics tablet. Excellent. They come in very handy.

I now wish to prove to her, and everyone else that I am not rubbish. No, I may not be the next Van Gough, but the whole point of University is to train you to become a professional. This leads me to believe that I do not to be a pro to get in.

My entire portfolio is not yet complete, but I have a few things that I am proud of, and wish to get feedback on.

Human Body In Motion - I intend to do sketches of particular body parts, as well as the human form in its entirety. I also have the plans for the animation. Though the animation turned into a bit of a joke piece, watch how the characters move. I am very proud of that fall.

Still Life - It's a classic. I plan photo manipulations, sketches, and 3D computer images created in Maya.

Other

Bordom

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 18:50:04 GMT

So how does one beat boredom? The obvious answer of course, is to do something. Occupy your mind, or your body, and the boredom just disperses into the stratosphere. Wrong. I have reached the point, where I am in fact so bored, that just thinking of things to do, bores me. And so, in a freak twist of fate, I opt to do nothing. Lie face first in bed, and cease to exist. It seems to be working... Ish.

To rant or not to rant...

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 19:47:44 GMT

I logged into LJ with the intention to rant about my woes and bore you all to death. But then I realised, that's exactly what I would be doing. Boring you. All those readers living in the abyss of cyberspace, care little about the aggravating day I had, nor do they feel much attachment to me. Add to that the fact that really, my life is not that bad. My mother keeps telling me I don't know how lucky I am. The TV keeps telling me there are kids starving in Africa. And I am sure someone will lose their brother, father or son out in Iraq whilst I type. My issues? Pffft. Who cares?

Originally, creating an LJ was my way of keeping in touch with my friends when I went off to university. Keep it updated, keep them updated. But I never got round to sending out the address? Why? Well, I have their phone numbers, email addresses, home addresses. I would see them at summer. Would speak to them on msn. Of course, I don't use any of those methods of communication. I have made little effort to keep in touch with them, and on the flip side of that, they make no effort at all to keep in touch with me. You don't care, and they don't care.

I am also not an egomaniac. I don't keep an LJ like I would a personal diary. I don't post all my dark private thoughts out in a public forum in an attempt to obtain sympathy. I don't use it to voice my political views or opinions, thinking that they might matter. Nope. Search through my LJ. Go on. Have a look. All you will find are a whole host of really shit fanfic, and a few messages to my friends.

So why bother with LJ? Heck, I don't know...

today is the first day of the rest of my life

Fri, 23 May 2008 19:36:58 GMT

My buddy mentioned the other day, somewhat pointedly I think, that I had not posted in my LJ for some time. Well, to be fair I have had very little to say. After being removed from university my life hit an all time low. The last twelve months have been an up hill struggle to get back on track. Despite heading in the right direction, I felt I had fallen too far behind the crowd, and would never get out of the rut I seemed to have got myself into.

Yet here i am today. It is the final half term at my local college. I got to finish a day earlier than the rest of my class because I have handed all my work in. I am chilling alone, bellowing classical music from incredible speakers, and feel like the smile etched onto my face could never be wiped away. Not even with strong detergents.

Why?

Thanks to my college course, I have become a decent programmer, and better still, been able to harness my creative nature into something useful. With some constructive criticism from one friend (who will never own an LJ, even if her life depended on it) and some tips, tutorials and frankly remarkable encouragement from my other friend, (boulette_sud) I have managed to start animating on Fireworks, Photoshop, Flash, Director and now Maya. Animation and digital art has become a activity of great enjoyment for me, and I am spending increasingly amounts of time before a computer. Though I am still not that good, there has been a noticeable improvement.

Thanks to my brother, who I miss hugely, and his constant emails, we have started competing with 3D imaging. He's a designer and engineer. His graphics are perfect to the smallest detail. Me, I have artistic flare. The next coming months, whilst I spend more time on Maya, could be interesting. I will impress him if it kills me.

But fun times are not the end of the story. The dream to go back to university and leave this small time town behind me is becoming a realistic hope for the future once more. My funding crisis has been fixed. I now have a list of universities that I would love to go to. Primarily, Glamorgan, which is renowned for it's Animation course. I have been chewing my nails, and stressing over the last few weeks. The word "portfolio" struck fear into my heart like you would not believe. But today, for the first time, after successfully, planning, drawing, and animating the first half of a 3 minute short film, I feel an interview by portfolio can not be that bad at all. Bring it on I say.

Consign to Oblivion

Wed, 30 Jan 2008 15:12:03 GMT

SPOILERS for Heroes 1 and 2, Torchwood Series 1 and 2 and Doctor Who series 1,2 and 3.

**Due to player schedules the game begins 10th February 2008 7pm British Time**

Scenario
Peter and Nathan Petrelli saved the world. On a cool November night, Nathan took his brother up into the sky as a small crowd gathered in Kirby Plaza and watched in awe and horror. The fate of New York was decided, and the city saved. Peter Petrelli however, had a guilt that sat on his shoulders. Even after the nuclear energy flowed from his body and his brother suffered from terrible, nearly fatal burns on his behalf, Peter felt as though a part of him was still 'exploding'.

At the hand of Elle Bishop, Peter Petrelli wound up in Company custody, debating a world without his abilities....a fresh start. There he meets a group of people eager to befriend him, and some eager to destroy him.

Meanwhile, a mysterious young woman is trying to settle in New York City, with more questions on her mind than answers. She's debating her place in the world, and simply wants to know where she truly belongs. However, her presence is causing a stir at the hands of time...

This is a Doctor Who/Torchwood/Heroes forum based RPG. The scenario should tie in all 3 themes. All Heroes and Torchwood characters are welcome, as are Doctor Who characters from Series 1 and 2. Original Characters are welcome, but a full profile needs to be run past the Administrator (Asimus) first.

Trailer Watch as the secrets begin to unfold...

For more information, character lists and game rules, check out the forum.

Character reservation opens 1st February. Gameplay starts 10th February. Characters will be reserved on a first come first served basis. View the character list if you are unsure as to who is reserved. PM the Administrator (Asimus) to reserve. Membership for playing is required, but it is free and immediate. These games tend to last a significant amount of time. Please beware of this when you sign up.

I look forward to seeing you.

Asimus
Email me at asimus@christophereccleston.net with any questions. PM through the forum to reserve characters.

Brought to you by ChristopherEccleston.net

New Year

Tue, 01 Jan 2008 17:45:58 GMT

Happy New Year to everyone. 2007 is no more, and bring on 2008. I started the year how I intened to go on. Surrounded by friends, boozed up to my eyeballs. It was a great party, and I am glad I went to. Possibly the best party ever! Though I have still yet to see Transformers all the way through!

Christmas

Fri, 28 Dec 2007 01:18:00 GMT

My Christmas was amazing! My brother came back from Yoevil to spend it with us. I am quite close to my brother, so it is really nice to see him. Plus he seemed really happy, perhaps the happiest I have ever seen him. I reckon he loves his job.

My present of a robot guinea pig to my mum went down a real treat. So well in fact that she seems to be neglected her real guinea pigs! May have to pick up the slack!

I won't bore you with a list of pressies that I got, but let's say it was a very good one! Everythign was a surprise really, and they really did well at picking up on what I like. I love them all!

My musings on S4 trailer (That spoiler)

Tue, 25 Dec 2007 21:47:43 GMT

So... We have been told Billie Piper will be back, and yet, no sign of her in the series 4 trailer. Also David Tennant recently said in an interview that he had no scenes with Billie. Everyone cried. However, I just watched the series 4 trailer and saw Donna and the Doctor snogging, a few scenes later we see them holding hands and gazing at each other lovingly. We all know that's never going to happen.

So here are my thoughts.

Rose and Donna swap bodies. Donna will be trapped on the other side of the void in Rose's body, and Rose on the Doctors side in Donna's. I kind of happy reunion, but obviously they can't stay in the wrong body, and they have to be put back.

It's fanwank because, yes the Doctor and Rose get to snog. It also deals with the 'why would Rose leave again?' question. It also does not take any thing away from Doomsday, because Rose really can't cross over, not physcially anyways.

What do people think?

21 Today

Mon, 03 Dec 2007 21:39:03 GMT

I feel cold inside, my bones ache and my back hurts. Yes, it has happened I am now old. I have come to realise the only thing I have left to look forward to now is my 30th birthday which is leading me to spiral into an early mid life crisis.

Ok, so I'm kidding. I had a great day, and a great weekend. Managaed to celebrate for like 4 days straight. Mum cooked me a cake and bought me real champaign and it was fantastic. Everything just perfect. I am really gratful for all those who managed to meet me down the pub on friday, and the DSC who showed up to help me celebrate on Sunday. Also the retreat in Norton, for making me a nut free meal on Saturday. Everything was great. I now have the entire dvd boxset of Series 3 Doctor Who to sit through, and hopefully another 80 minutes of DT Diaries. Looking forward to it. Also looking forward to the added perks of being 21, like being able to rent a car... even though I can't drive...

And I forgot to mention, I got ID'd down the pub on Saturday! I have never feltso complimented in all my life!

Chasing Ghosts

Tue, 27 Nov 2007 22:35:26 GMT

Because a sudden plot hole appeared in my fic 'Wasteland' I have been taking a break to work it through. However in celebration of the news I saw tonight, and because jessdoctorwho21 has demanded it, I put my mind to writing something new.

Hopefully a feel good reunion fic. What better kind of story is there!

Title: Chasing Ghosts
Author: Asimus
Rating: U/None
Characters: Ten/Rose Unknown companion
Genre: Romantic fluff of the reunion kind
Disclaimer: If they were mine... well I should LJ cut that...

Chasing Ghosts

He’s standing in a village hall, packed with young bodies, bumping and grinding and laughing in their maddening way to that awful music the youth of today listen to. The room is hot and claustrophobic, and he is desperately looking for his companion. That’s why he doesn’t see her at first, just another face in the sea of faces, his eyes skimming over the blond hair and pouting lips, it just not what he’s looking for. After all, he sees her face everywhere and he’s learnt to block it out. It doesn’t do to chase after ghosts during a crisis.

But then, like a delayed reaction, a pin drops in his mind and everything goes silent except for the heartbeat thudding in his ears. It was HER. And it’s like something out of a trashy romance novel, eyes meeting across a crowded room, and a look of joy that lights up her features and makes his stomach flutter, as he runs to her open arms warm and inviting. Only it’s not like that. He fights through the crowd, oblivious to the situation at hand, and refusing to get out of his way, despite his somewhat rude and abrupt method of pushing and shoving. By the time he reaches her, she’s gone.

He feels like dropping to his knees and screaming to the heavens. Why oh why is life so cruel? But there is rarely time for melodrama. Feeling dejected, his insides aching and his eyes burning, he turns to leave. He has a companion to find; a different one; and a world to save. But right now he needs fresh air.

The horde of youths are just as reluctant to let him leave as they were to let him in, and he fights, all elbows and shoulder barges, feeling a little panicked as the walls close in about him. He all but falls through those open doors into the brilliant sunshine of a late afternoon in august, and slams his back against the red brick wall, letting the coolness of the stone soothe the turmoil within.

It takes him a moment to realise that, adjacent to him, also backed against the wall, is one Rose Tyler, and that she’s looking at him. She’s a little older, and she wears frown lines where there were none before, her hair is longer and her roots are showing, but she’s here and looking at him! He pushes himself away from the support, bounding over to her with hyperactivity he hasn’t felt since her previous demise, and halts mere inches in front of her.

He grins, as does she. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling awkward. What does one say to the woman you love, but lost so long ago. ‘How have you been?’ ‘What you been up to?’ ‘Keeping busy?’

She takes the choice out of his hands, throwing her self into his arms and hugging him in the usual bone-crushing manner. It feels like old times, and he can’t do anything but return the hug.

Pulling away is the hardest thing he has done in a long time. Saving the world with her as his side once more is perhaps the easiest. Drinking tea and starring at each other from across a café table once the evil is thwarted is perhaps the most awkward.

“You said it was impossible.” She says at last.

“I thought it was.”

“It wasn’t.”

“I see that.”

They lapse back into silence. He’s dying to ask her how she did it, but part of him really doesn’t want to know. He will spend the rest of eternity kicking himself for missing the obvious, and reliving the agony of the last 12 months that need not of happened.

“I’m glad to see you.” And he kicks himself for that too. Last time they spoke, upon a beach in Norway, she had told him she loved him. He had floundered, unsure how to respond. Obviously, ‘I love you too’ would have been a great start, and not ‘quite right too,’ but for all his rambling, the Doctor wasn’t so great with words. Not words that mattered anyway. Actions were more his thing, touches of digits and comforting embraces, but the situation meant that they couldn’t touch and he had been left adrift.

“So how are things?” Roles of his tongue quite nicely, but again he doesn’t want to know. Either she got on with her life and is happy, in which case she will want to leave and go back to it any minute now. Or she spent the year in agony much like his own, and will now hate him with every fibre of her being. Both options make his skin crawl and his blood run cold. He can’t look her in the eye.

“I missed you.”

It was not the response he had expected, and the tone in which it was said made him glance away from the chip on the brim of his tea cup in time to see tears pouring from chocolate brown eyes he had honestly believed he would never see again. His chest tightens his own tears threatening, but he lets instinct take hold and he quickly rounds the table and drags the weeping woman into his arms. This is how it should have been before. The words ‘I love you’ could never truly express the way he felt on that beach, or how he felt right now, but it was a start.

“Quite right to.” He mutters, taking her cheeks in his palms and pressing a gentle chaste kiss to her lips. And soon they are both smiling, and the kisses aren’t quite so chaste, and he wonders why he never thought to do this before. For an all intelligent Time Lord, he really was a dork. And he voices this thought, and pretty much every other that passes through his mind, and Rose Tyler giggles and snuggles against his chest.

“Let’s go home.” She whispers, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the Tardis. He risks her mockery when he speaks utter cheese and says, “I already am.”

Update

Tue, 30 Oct 2007 22:31:46 GMT

Wow it has been ages since I have made a proper post. I have to say things have gone from depressingly terrible, to the greatest days of my life. A number of things accored which have changed my life for the better.

First off, I started at college. I was worried as I was so much older than my classmates that I wouldn't fit in. I couldn't be more wrong. It seemes most of us are a bunch of social misfits, and we have all seemed to have gravitated togther. We take up the biggest table in the canteen and the chavs (there are an awful lot) don't bother us when we're on mass. The course itself is awesome, the work is enjoyable, and i really think i may do well at this. I'm ever considering going back to uni when i'm done with this course.

The next thing is the DSC. I found them thanks to a friend on my forum. They are such an awesome group of people. everyone supports each other and it feels like being part of such a big family. its an amazing feeling. the first thing i do when i get home from college is to log onto the site and see what everyone is up to. the guys are awesome, and i am really greatful to Dino, Russ and OG who provide a place for us to hang out. i have made so many good friends through the DSC and have found there is always someone to talk to. The days of feeling alone seem to be a thing of the past and thats thanks to them.

Happy sanhuin folks, and bonfire night.

Asixx

The Year Of Hell Winter Roleplay '07

Tue, 16 Oct 2007 20:05:21 GMT

CONTAINS SPOILERS for Heroes Series One and Doctor Who series 1 - 3
Starts 27/10/07

In America, shape shifting, brain eating psychopath, Sylar, has won the Election using the form of Nathan Petrelli and is now President of the United States.

Over in Britain, The Master, also know as Saxon, has brainwashed the public and is now the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.

The two great nations are now run by monsters, and only the Doctor and Peter Petrelli are aware of any of this. They need to find help, and bring down the two great leaders and maybe save the world in doing so...

For more information check The Forum where it all happens or email me at asimus@christophereccleston.net.

PM me through the forum or email me to reserve characters. Please check the regularly updated character list on the forum before trying to reserve the character. The list gets renewed every day so it should be up to date. If you are worried that the character that you would like will be popular, please provide a reserve character as well. If you wish to create a character, please let me know and we will discuss it. It has been done before so it is a matter of sorting the details out. Cheers

Asimus

The Wasteland Part One of Six

Mon, 15 Oct 2007 21:20:50 GMT

A story that stretches through The Doctor early life and on past the Time War. Maybe we can understand why he is the way he is.

Title: The Wasteland Part One of Six
Author: Asimus
Beta: DesertRose9
Characters: The Doctor #One (will be #9/Rose in future chapters)
Summary:The Doctor is eight years old and, not for the first time, he feels that he is missing something of importance.

The Doctor flees the academy for the first time. He is eight years old and just a boy. Seeing the vortex for the first time frightens him and so he runs. Feet painfully pound the earth, air is cold and bitter in his lungs, behind him twin suns set. He feels alive for the first time in his short life. He climbs and climbs until there is no strength left inside him to fight, and so he lies flat on his back, gasping to for breath. The view that meets him is totally overwhelming. He has never before left the city, never seen it in all its glory, orange orbs of light lifting the spires from the backdrop behind like a watercolour. But what strikes him isn’t the architecture below, or the crispness of the wind; it’s something that catches his eye, far off to the East.

Down in the Wastelands the Outsider’s are forming a settlement, mothers, fathers, children alike are helping to form a camp, laughing, singing, some are dancing. He stares down at them with watery eyes. The Academy had always taught that these people were beasts. They had renounced the ways of the Time Lords, and so bred and multiplied as they chose. But watching them now, they weren’t animals at all. They were beautiful.

It’s important to understand that Time Lords aren’t actually a species, it’s more a way of life adopted by most inhabitants of Gallifrey. Time Lords do not exist in family groups like a human being would. DNA of Time Lords is matched to produce a child of highest potential. These children are born in Looms and then brought up by the Academy. Their ability is assessed when they reach adulthood and positions distributed.

The Doctor is eight years old and at this time knows his father by reputation alone. He is a great man. He knows not of his mother, she is never mentioned. His peers call him Monkey Boy, something he does not understand, and his teachers go oddly quiet when questions on such topics are brought to them.

As darkness descends upon the mountain, the camp is finished and a fire is lit. Family groups huddle together and talk and laugh and sing. Stories are told, meals passed. The Doctor is eight years old and, not for the first time, he feels that he is missing something of importance.

Inevitable

Tue, 11 Sep 2007 20:23:20 GMT

Title: Inevitable
Author: Asimus
Characters: Ten, Rose
Rating: Child friendly

Notes: Just another Doomsday reunion fic of sorts. Insted of sleeping I think up wacky and wonderful ways to put it all right. Heres a new one, and again, a different angle from usual.

Inevitable

He is a Time Lord, and he has a time machine. It was inevitable really that at some point he would go searching for her. He knows he shouldn’t but that doesn’t stop him.

*

Rose Tyler is 5 years old, and it’s the first time she has used the London Underground. She has lost her teddy. The Doctor saunters up behind her and hands back Pooh Bear to the hysterical child.

“It’s very important Rose, hold on tight to those important things. Teddies, Mummies,” After a slight pause, “Leavers that open up doorways between universes.”

He catches Jackie’s glare and remembers the slap she gave him such a long time ago. Swallowing the lump in his throat, and rubbing his cheek, he disappears back into the crowd.

*

Rose Tyler is 12 years old and hanging from a tree in the Lake District. She’s wearing cut off shorts and pink converse trainers and sports scabs on her knees like any self-respecting tomboy. She kicks out as she loses her grip on the branch. The Doctor catches her as she falls. He always catches her.

“It’s very important Rose, elbow joints are better for hanging off than fingers, it can’t get prised apart. Remember that.”

She frowns at the use of her name, so he smiles as he backs away. All Tyler’s can slap, he knows, even tiny Tyler’s.

“Thanks Mister!”

She calls after him as he makes his quick getaway. He considers changing his name.

*

Rose Tyler is 21 years old and on a planet called Lucifer. She’s stood on one side of a great steal door, and he knows that her Doctor is locked on the other side. He knows he’s minus his Sonic Screwdriver and also somewhat naked. He has time.

He creeps up behind her and whispers in her ear.

“It’s very important Rose, remember that once a door handle has been pulled down, and the catch released, the door is open, the handle can be freed. And the same goes for gateways into other realities.”

She spins round and glares at him, and he never thought he’d see those eyes quite like that again.

“I’ve been trying to get you of there for half an hour, why didn’t you say you found a way out?”

He grins as she takes in his attire, blue suit, red tie, sad expression. The Doctor shouts and bangs from the other side of the door.

Realisation dawns on her with a silent ‘oh’. He kisses her gently and chastely on the temple, before leaning past and sonicing the door open. He’s gone before she can say thank you, index finger pressed to his lips, one last request. He had always wondered how she got that door open, and she had never told him.

*

That night the Doctor lies in his bed. He hasn’t rested for days, but now all he can do is wait. He can feel the time lines shifting, changing, merging, morphing into one. He becomes aware of a human next to him, female, clad in fluffy jim-jams with little green aliens stitched onto them. He also becomes aware of her sobbing, quiet and restrained. Rose Tyler had taken to sleeping in his bed since she lost her parents to another world. He knows this, has lived it. This is the real time line now. Everything else is just a nightmare from which he has awoken.

He snuggles closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, fingers trace patterns onto the flesh of her stomach just under her shirt. He presses his lips to the base of her neck, whispering how he dreamt he lost her, how she had slipped out of his reach. He can’t bear to tell her that he selfishly stole her from her family.

She turns and offers him a water smile.

“It’s very important, that you remember that I’m never ever leaving you.”

He presses a kiss to her nose and she settles down to sleep.

Love Is Not A Victory March

Tue, 11 Sep 2007 20:19:18 GMT

Title: Love Is Not A Victory March
Author: Asimus
Characters: Ten, Rose
Rating: PG-13 (references to sex, but mild)

Notes: Inspired by the song Hallelujah the Jeff Buckley version, though not a songfic.

Love Is Not A Victory March

She finds him one lonely night, tucked away in a darkened room, weeping whilst he believed her sleeping.

“I didn’t know you played guitar.” She says, smiling gently, lessening his ache as he stands there, leather strap slung over his shoulder, metal strings clutched painfully between his fingers.

“It’s not a guitar!” He forces cheer into his voice, it’s not so hard now she’s here, “It’s a ukulele. Don’t you think it’s very me?”

And she laughs at him, and he laughs too. He doesn’t think he has ever known someone mock him like she does, and he’s grateful for it, for her, because she always knows just what he needs.

“Play us a tune then.”

And he does. And she cries. He doesn’t know why. Maybe it was the sweetness of his melody, straight from the skies of Gallifrey. Or maybe it was the pained expression on his face as he recalled his home, burned to ashes. He drops the instrument and holds her regardless of her reasons. She reveals everything to him, every upset in her heart and he thinks that he might just understand.

*

She sits him down in the kitchen; table pushed up to the wall clearing space. In her hands she holds a pair of scissors and he doesn’t think he’s ever been this afraid. He really shouldn’t have mentioned back-combing.

“Do you trust me?” She asks with a sly grin.

He has to say ‘yes,’ it’s the only possible answer, because it’s true and he could never lie to her. He never regrets it.

*

He makes love to her for the first time and he wonders why he never did this before. She is his salvation and redemption, and forgiveness and all those other clichés one would associate with a personal God, or a brand new lover. But really she has always been his lover, he just never realised it.

He holds her, much like he has many nights in the past, only tonight she’s naked, and he’s naked and he has the overwhelming urge to never let go. Though that’s not really new either. This night she clings to him too, because she feels everything he does, he knows, he can feel it in her breath playing across his heated skin. They are a perfect match.

In that moment, that everlasting moment, where she throws back her head in bliss and cries out his name, in that moment, he wishes he was human, he wants it, craves it. He closes his eyes and he can see his whole life stretched out on front of him, like a tapestry. He can see himself growing old with her, lying warm in bed with her, a fire burning warm and bright in the fireplace as she sits in a rocking chair knitting. Children and grandchildren roam the house. Their house, with shag pile carpets and blue doors. He sees his whole life with her. How it could be. How it won’t be.

She snuggles into him and it warms his aching bones, makes him feel a little less old. He swears he’ll find a way to keep her. He means it.

*

They stand together on a cold blustery beach, only they’re not together. They are a universe apart. She’s crying, and all he wants is to reach out and touch her. But he can’t and it breaks him just a little.

He realises that love is cold and bitter. He silently longs for the days before he knew her. Those days he spent alone. Always better off alone. He blinks and she’s gone, and he fears he will never heal from this. The wound will always be open and raw.

The next time he lies down to rest, he cries. He cries and wails like some ethereal creature, minus limbs necessary for survival. His shrieks are inhuman, but then, he has never been human.

*

Maybe there's a God above
But all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya
And it's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

It Was Worth It

Thu, 30 Aug 2007 19:59:03 GMT

Title – It Was Worth It (Part 3 of 3)
Characters – Ten, Rose, mentions of Jackie
Genre - Post Doomsday reunion fic. Angst
Spoilers – Mentions of Series 3 final
Summary - The Doctor finds his way across the void with only one thought on his mind.

Part One
Part Two

Once again he awakes with a jolt. The clock on the bedside table reads 17:15 with large red numbers that glow in his dim surroundings. He stares at it for a long while before realising that this is odd, and not the Tardis and definitely not the void. He roles over to find Rose seated beside him, on the edge of the bed, muttering words as if in prayer.

“I’m not dead,” he whispers and a grin explodes onto her face. She’s hugging him in an awfully uncomfortable position, and really awfully tight for someone who had just gone off a respiratory bypass and actually required to breathe. He taps her arm like a wrestler tapping out of a painful hold and she loosens her grip.

“You stopped breathing,” she says and continuously strokes his face as if he might just disappear at any moment.

He nods, a little amused, a little afraid, “I think it’s supposed to happen.”

He finds himself touching his face, his nose, his ears.

“Did I regenerate?” he asks, but he knows that’s not right. He still feels like him, or he thinks he does. It’s been so long since he felt like himself. Nearly a millennia of that awful place. A year previous to that stuck in an old mans body in the Master’s prison. Only one thought permanently on his mind, ‘Must find Rose.’ After centuries all essence of himself had drained away, but that chant, that constant reminder remained. But now, now his brain and memory synapses seem to have restored themselves during his healing coma, and he is aware that the pain, physical and mental has vanished. And he knows, or feels that he is he and no longer the stranger he became. He fought the battle and won. He survived the treachery of the journey and made it to his destination alive. He is elated. He is relieved.

He reaches for her with a small smile. “I know you,” he says quietly. “I came back for you.”

And there has never been a truer word spoken. This flower in front of him used to belong to him, and he knows this now, no doubt at all in his mind. She was his and he wants her back. He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and she catches his hand in both of hers. He can see she wants to know what happened, but doesn’t want to ask, never wants to inflict pain of any kind upon him. She hasn’t changed, his Rose, one eternal constant in his mind and hearts.

“I’m glad,” she says at last, and the words are obviously an understatement.

They spend the evening sat in bed, whilst her mother brings them soup, and the maid brings them tea. She tells him about her life in ‘Pete’s World’, tells him about Torchwood, about her new sister and her mother’s attempt to start a pop career. As the sun disappears behind the horizon and the world outside goes black, the Doctor snuggles closer to her, and asks her more intimate questions. She cries as she tells him how she missed him, how she never got over him, how she’s spent that last 3 years searching for him. He wasn’t planning on kissing her, but he does, and keeps kissing her and before he knows it he’s lying above her, face buried into her neck as he possesses her in the way he always should have done, always regretted never having done.

He promises never to leave her and he means it. She promises him forever, and this time he thinks he believes it. That night he holds her close to him, warm and soft and comforting. He has got her back, finally, at long last, but in doing so he had to give up everything. Faced with the same choice he would do it again, in one beat of his two hearts, but he’s really not sure how cut out for a nine till five life he really is. For the first time in his life he is truly terrified. This is new, this is unknown, this is not the type of adventure he has ever gone out looking for. He cries silently as she sleeps. If she ever leaves him he will have nothing. No home, no Tardis, no life or family or friends. And she will leave, however unintentionally. He knows this, fears this; counts down every second until this truth finds him. It makes his blood run cold, his hearts beat fast, his forehead sweat. He clutches her closer; she is all he has now. ‘It was worth it’ becomes his personal mantra. With time he’ll believe this too.

It Was Worth It (Part 2 of 3)

Wed, 29 Aug 2007 18:47:41 GMT

Title – It Was Worth It (Part 2 of 3)
Characters – Ten, Rose, mentions of Jackie
Genre - Post Doomsday reunion fic. Angst
Spoilers – Mentions of Series 3 final
Summary - The Doctor finds his way across the void with only one thought on his mind.

Part One

He sleeps deeply and his mind is littered with nightmares, though he doesn’t awake, not until he becomes aware of sunlight attacking his squeezed shut eyelids and a cool breeze from an open window. He reaches for a body he knows should be beside him, and when it’s not there he lurches forwards and out of bed and is momentarily blinded by the suns brightness. Squinting he sees her smiling at him from across the room, preparing clean clothing for herself and seemingly for him. For the first time since his arrival in this dimension he finds the words that used to come so easily, and he steps forwards and utters her name. Rose.

He can see a spark relight in her eyes as well as the formation of tears, though she refuses to shed them, and she reaches for him, pulling him into her embrace, regardless of his nakedness. Her hair smells of something sweet, something he knows he used to crave. Bananas, and he voices this noun and she laughs at him and pulls him closer.

“You were right the first time.” And they stand and regard each other for the longest of times.

“Rose.” He says again, before the exertion becomes too much, and he finds himself seated on the ground his head between his knees, fighting off the urge to vomit, and waiting for the room to halt its spinning.

He sleeps again for most of the day, and somewhere in his addled mind he knows there is irony in this. Fever over takes him, and his temperature rises. People come and go, and he’s aware that he knows them, but can’t place the faces or the names. Rose stays strong at his bedside, never leaving, her hand brushing away the hair stuck to his face with sweat, sometimes with a cold cloth, sometimes just soothing with soft palms and delicate fingers. Despite the pain building behind his eyes he selfishly wishes things could stay like this forever. He need never move from this spot again, as long as Rose remains beside him.

The fever breaks, and he sleeps deeply, and then he is no longer sleeping, he has receded into the furthest reaches of his mind. His respiratory system goes on bypass, and momentarily he worries that he is dying, but an instinct takes over and he knows this is ok, this is how he heals, this is how he will survive. He always survives. He lets go of all he knows and slips into the blackness. He has come to hate blackness, fear it, but this blackness is welcoming, and he accepts it without a second thought. He knows tomorrow he will live.