Death in Heaven is kind of a subpar finale but Last Christmas is honestly like perfect Doctor Who. it’s a really inventive, atmospheric, dark story with a ton of sci fi, the script does a good job surprising you, the one off characters are really well written and there are so many continuity nods to the Doctor and Clara’s relationship up to this point. I remember thinking this would have been a perfect last episode for Clara but i’m glad she stayed.

Seeing Stars

Written in response to Hauntober prompt #9: Stars.

Summary: Little Lady Blinder universe. Clara, Finn, and Isiah getting up to trouble.

Characters Featured: Tommy Shelby, Finn Shelby, Isiah Jesus, and Clara Shelby (Shelby!Sister)

-----

Polly was certifiably livid, but Tommy found the detour following an afternoon of meetings to get after his siblings and Isiah for something stupid they’d gotten up to a mere annoyance in his day. Sure, he wanted to go for a drink, had expected to be heading out to the Garrison with his brothers by now, but as he headed to the church, he still found himself in good spirits.

Polly had parked the three kids there in the Lord’s house a little after noon, leaving them to think about their actions as the bruises and cuts and scrapes littering their skin grew sore. Polly hoped they’d feel something close to contrition as they waited on the hard wooden pews with nothing but God and themselves for company.

When Tommy pushed open the hall’s great doors, laughter found his ears, a chorus of entirely unbothered giggles, his sister’s harmonious cackle a touch louder than the other two. He couldn’t imagine why Polly had any faith in Finn, Clara, and Isiah passing the afternoon hours sitting somberly, seeking absolution from their sins. The three of them had never been particularly good with atoning unless they were scared out of their wits about what would be coming to them next.

“I thought your aunt was going to fucking murder us,” Isiah said. “You, especially.” He nudged Clara in the shoulder and she smirked, propping her feet up on the seat between them.

“We’ve had worse,” Clara answered.

“Just you wait until Thomas hears about this. You three’ll be the ones seeing stars when he knocks some sense into you.” 

Clara and Isiah roared at Finn’s ‘Polly Gray’ impression, Clara’s feet kicking against the pew as she laughed. 

“By the sounds of it, I should do a lot more than knock you three idiots upside the head.” 

Clara was closest, sitting near the center aisle, with Isiah to her right and Finn in the pew ahead of them, her back to Tommy.

“Whatever she’s told you, she’s exaggerating,” Finn offered, occupying Tommy’s attention long enough to give his sister a moment to turn around.

“Oh, is that right?” Tommy asked, hands in his pocket as he looked between the kids. “You three didn’t start a—”

“Pol’s just being overdramatic because she’s got nothing better to do than get after— Ow, Tommy!”

Clara grabbed at his hand, pushing it away after he tapped the back of her head. 

“Was your aunt being dramatic or was she in the right?” he asked.

Tommy heard a different answer from each of them and he focused on Isiah, the most reasonable of the three, most reliable when trouble was involved because he wasn’t family. Tommy could count on the boy for the truth, even if it was like pulling teeth to get the actual words out.

“She was just being excessive, Tommy. You know how she is,” Clara said, pulling Tommy’s eyes back to her.

“You keep your mouth shut.” 

At meeting his eye, Clara averted her gaze, reaching up to cover the back of her head in case he decided to give her another smack. 

Tommy’s hand clasped down over the crown of her head and he noted her flinch as he turned her head to face him. “You’d save us all a lot of grief if you’d learn to do that, especially where Aunt Polly is concerned, and especially when you’re supposed to have been at school rather than out messing around.” 

“It was a half-day at school. I told y—”

“Fine, that doesn’t mean you have any business being out startin—”

“I wasn—”

“Enough, Clara.”  

Clara’s shoulders slumped, the last of the belligerence flowing out of her and he fit his hand under her chin, tilting her head up towards the light as he studied the bruising on her face. “You’re alright?”

“I’m fine, Tommy,” Clara offered, the corner of her lip pulling up just a bit as she glanced up at him. “You should see the other kid. He probably really was seeing stars.”

“She kicked his arse, Tommy,” Finn said.

Tommy rolled his eyes as he dropped his hand. “Yeah, well, she shouldn’t have been doing anything of the sort. You three know better.”

“Tom, it was just a bit of fun. No harm done,” Finn said. 

“Right, that’s why our thirteen-year-old sister’s got herself a black eye.”

“We’re nearly fourt—” 

Tommy looked at her again, his long blink daring her to finish the sentence, but instead, she stopped herself and settled back against the pew so Tommy turned his head towards Isiah.

“Right, Isiah. We can’t trust these two, so which is it? Was Polly justified or—”

“Tom, it’s not really my place.” 

“I’m asking you, so it is,” he answered. 

Isiah took a moment, avoiding the twin’s stares, and met Tommy’s eye instead. “I think Polly was a bit dramat—”

“See!” Clara stood up in front of Tommy, gesturing towards Isiah. “Even Siah says—”

Tommy tugged Clara forward, placing her back to his chest as he clapped a hand over her mouth, Clara’s hands immediately going to his arm as she worked to loosen his hold, her protests muffled. 

Tommy ignored her, nodding towards Isiah. “Go on, Isiah.” 

“It was a show, dragged these two down the lane by their ears, but she was probably justified a bit,” Isiah answered. “But Finn’s right, too, Tom. It was brilliant and—”

Tommy felt his sister’s smile grow beneath the hand he’d been using to keep her quiet, her hands settling on his arm for a moment instead of fighting him. 

“We made a killing, Tom,” Finn said. “No one bet on her. Thought she couldn’t fight ‘cause she’s a girl, but she knocked him right out.” 

Clara dropped her hands from Tommy’s arm and dug deep into her pockets, pulling out a wad of notes.

“We wanted to help with buying her the house,” Finn said.

Tommy looked down to his sister, his hand dropping to her shoulder. “That was meant to be a secret, Clara.”

Clara tilted her head back to look up at him. “Finn and Siah won’t tell. They promised.”

“I know we can trust Isiah, but is that right, Finn? You won’t tell?”

It was still months out, Polly’s birthday, but he was planning already, getting ready to move the cash they’d accumulated through the shop and the protection work into real estate. He’d told Polly of his plans to buy a place for Ada, but the home for her was to be a surprise.

“I can keep a bloody secret, Tommy,” Finn said.

“Yeah, well you’d better. It’s meant to be a surprise,” Tommy answered. “And no more fucking fighting. I had you boys teach her so she could protect herself, not so you three could run a fighting ring out on the lane, and a fixed one at that.” 

“We’re just continuing the family business,” Clara answered. “Learned it from you.”

“Yeah, well the business is changing, which is why you’re meant to be spending your days in a classroom on the other side of Birmingham and you two aren’t meant to be scrapping in the lane. No need for you three to be worried about making money, there’s plenty of it to go around these days.” 

“We were just trying to help.”

“Well, you’ll be a bigger help if you stop giving Polly such a headache, eh?”

They all grumbled some form of an affirmative answer. 

“Alright, let’s get you off home, then,” Tommy said, his arm over Clara’s shoulder as they walked out to the lane.

“Can’t we come with you to the Garrison?” Finn asked when they were nearly back to Watery Lane, just after Isiah left them to head for his own home.

Tommy turned to Finn about to speak, but Clara beat him to it, her voice an octave lower than normal.

“Come with me to the Garrison? You’re lucky I don’t knock you idiots upside the head so hard you’re seeing stars. You’re going home and you’re going to bed witho--” 

Finn’s eyes went wide for a moment and Clara swallowed hard rather than finishing her sentence.

“No, that sounds about right,” Tommy answered. “Off to bed with you both, no supper.” 

“No, no, Tommy,” Clara answered. “I was just being clever. Aunt Polly didn’t let us have lunch and it’s not even six yet.”

“Maybe this will teach you to stop being so clever.” Tommy glanced to Finn. “And you to stop obliging your sister’s foolish whims.” 

“It’ll be their cleverness that’ll—” 

“Enough with the voices, Finn,” Tommy snapped as the twins began laughing again.

“But they’re funny,” Clara said.

“Am I laughing?” Tommy asked.

“No, because you’ve become a horrible grouchy old man,” Clara said. 

“I’ll show y—“

“I’ll show y—“

Tommy stopped himself and raised an eyebrow at the girl, at her words, the very same words as his, spoken at the very same moment, her voice humorously deep though the pitch didn’t quite match. 

Clara smiled up at Tommy before grabbing Finn’s arm, pulling him a step away from their older brother. 

“I think we should be getting home, Finn. Let Tommy get on with his evening. No more threats of making anyone see stars, needed eh, Tommy? We’ll go back and put ourselves to bed early. No supper. No more voices. No more unsolicited cleverness.”

Tommy made no attempt to hide his smirk and Clara chanced a hug. 

“We are sorry for the trouble, Tommy. We were just trying to help,” she mumbled into his coat.

Tommy ran a hand down the back of her head.

“Go apologize to your aunt, eh? Maybe she’ll still let you have your supper.”

-----

Read more Little Lady Blinder stories here.

A Comparison of RTD and Steven Moffat: Saving The Day

So for this analysis I’m going to compare when Moffat and RTD save the day well and when they save it poorly. There are a few bits of criteria I need to explain.

 First I will only be including main series, no Torchwood, no spin-offs, and no mini episodes.

Second, I have to define what makes a good and a bad ending (my examples will come from episodes written by neither of them): 

Bad endings include when the sonic saves the day (see The Power Of Three) (there are exceptions, see below), when a character spouts some useless technobabble that doesn’t make any scientific sense/when it doesn’t make logical sense in general, when the Doctor invents/presents a machine/equipment that miraculously stops the baddy and is never referred to again (see Journey To The Centre Of The TARDIS), and any other ending I deem to be bad (see The Vampires of Venice)

Good endings include when the sonice activates a device that has been well established to save the day, when technobabble is used that actually makes some scientific sense, and just generally when the baddy is destroyed in what I deem to be a creative manner that makes sense with all the things that had been set up in that episode (see The Unquiet Dead).

There will also be cases where there isn’t really a day to be saved, however this happens more often with Moffat.

Let us begin (obviously there will be spoilers but the last episode in the list aired nearly 4 years ago so what you doing with your life).

RTD:

Rose: Bad

What even is anti-plastic?! Like seriously, he’s faced the Autons loads of times and has never thought to use it any other time.

The End Of The World: Bad

The Doctor just goes up to the appearance of the repeated meme (ha meme) and rips its arm off. He then just summons Cassandra back by twisting a knob which apparently everyone can do if “you’re very clever like me”.

Aliens Of London/World War Three: Good

Just nuking them all was a bit dodgy but I’ll give it to him purely because it had been set up earlier in the episode and it is a genuine option that could have been taken.

The Long Game: Good

The heating issue was set up within 2 minutes of the episode starting. It’s always good to see the Doctor using his enemies weakness against them.

Boom Town: Good

Only just. It’s technology that hadn’t been showcased ever before and came out of nowhere, but I’m allowing purely because it was setting up The Parting Of The Ways.

Bad Wolf/The Parting Of The Ways: Good

See above. It was set up the story before so it works.

The Christmas Invasion: Bad

This was so close to being good. If RTD had just let the Sycorax leader be honourable then everything would have been fine. Instead he had to let him be dishonourable and then the Doctor through the Satsuma at a random button that for no apparent reason caused a bit of floor to fall away.

New Earth: Bad

It only makes sense if you think about it for less than 10 seconds as just pouring every cure to every disease ever into a giant tub and then spraying said supercure onto them all, then having them hug each other to pass it on. That is suspending my disbelief just a bit too far.

Tooth And Claw: Good

Everything is set up in the episode so I’ll allow it but I fail to see how Prince Albert had the time to ensure that the diamond was cut perfectly.

Love And Monsters: Bad

It’s Love And Monsters. Need I say more?

Army of Ghosts/Doomsday: Good

It was very clearly set up throughout the episode.

The Runaway Bride: Bad

I don’t like how a few bombs can supposedly drain the entire Thames.

Smith And Jones: Good

All the events were well established

Gridlock: Good

It’s a fairly bland way to save the day, just opening the surface to all the drivers. But how else could he have done it?

Utopia/The Sound Of Drums/Last Of The Time Lords: Bad

As much as I like the idea that he tuned himself into the archangel network, he basically turned into Jesus. It is arguably the least convincing ending in modern Doctor Who history.

Voyage Of The Damned: Bad

Why was he the next highest authority? If he’s the highest authority in the universe why didn’t they default to him in the first place? If not then why not default to Midshipman Frame? And if he’s somehow in between them then why? Also Astrid killed herself for no reason when she easily could have jumped out of the forklift.

Partners In Crime: Good

It works in the context of the episode, but I don’t see why they needed two of the necklace things.

Midnight: Good

It’s human nature, you can’t get more well set up than that.

Turn Left: Good

It works logically

The Stolen Earth/Journey’s End: Bad

Donna just spouts a load of technobabble whilst pressing buttons and then the Daleks are magically incapacitated.

The Next Doctor: Bad

Why do the infostamps sever Hartigan’s connection with the Cyberking? As far as I remember it ain’t explained.

Planet Of The Dead (co-written with noted transphobe Gareth Roberts): Good

A good couple scenes are dedicated on getting the anti-gravs set up.

The Waters Of Mars (co-written with Phil Ford): N/A

The day isn’t really saved cause everyone still dies anyway.

The End Of Time: Good

Using a gun to destroy a machine is much better than using the sonic to destroy it.

Summary for RTD:

Out of 24 stories written by him, I deem 10 to be bad endings with 1 abstaining. That’s 41.7% of his episodes (43.5% if we don’t count any abstaining).

Steven Moffat:

The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances: Good

You’ll see this a lot with Moffat, he knows how to explain things without stupefying levels of technobabble. “Emailing the upgrade” is a perfect example of this.

The Girl In The Fireplace: Good

Some basic logic, the androids want to repair their ship, but they can’t return to it, they no longer have a function so they shut down.

Blink: Good

Always loved this one, getting the angels to look at each other, however they do look at each other sometimes earlier in the episode.

Silence In The Library/Forest Of The Dead: Bad

This is more of a problem with the setup of the episode, I don’t like that he can negotiate with the Vashta Nerada. I’d rather see them comprehensively beaten, but I guess it’s good for the scare factor that they can’t be escaped from.

The Eleventh Hour: Good

He convinced the best scientists all around the world to set every clock to 0 all in less than an hour. In the Doctor’s own words “Who da man!”

The Beast Below: Good

The crying child motif pretty much ended up saving the day (well for the star whale, life went on as normal for pretty much everyone else).

The Time Of Angels/Flesh And Stone: Good

The artificial gravity had briefly been set up earlier so I’ll allow it.

The Pandorica Opens/The Big Bang: Good

Everything had been set up perfectly, the vortex manipulator, the Pandorica’s survival field thingy, the TARDIS exploding at every moment in history.

A Christmas Carol: Good

Literally the entire episode is the Doctor saving the day by convincing Kazran not to be a cock.

The Impossible Astronaut/Day Of The Moon: Good

The silence’s ability to influence people is their whole thing, so using it against them is a good Doctory thing to do.

A Good Man Goes To War: N/A

The day isn’t really saved, Melody is lost, but River shows up at the end so is all fine? I love the episode it’s just the day isn’t really truly saved (yes I know Amy was rescued but she still lost her baby).

Let’s Kill Hitler: N/A

There isn’t really a day to be saved. They all get out alive but no one is really saved other than maybe River but we all knew she was gonna live anyway.

The Wedding Of River Song: Good

Whilst opinion is divided on the episode, the ending still works. the Tesseracta was established in Let’s Kill Hitler, and the “touch River and time will move again” was established well in advance.

The Doctor, The Widow And The Wardrobe: Bad

I don’t like how the lifeboat travels through the time vortex for no reason but to rescue the dad. It don’t make no sense and I don’t think it’s explained

Asylum Of The Daleks: Good

Oswin had access to the Dalek hive mind so of course she should be able to link into the controls and blow everything up.

The Angels Take Manhattan: Good

Paradoxes really do be something powerful, and they even acknowledge how nobody knows if it’d work so I’ll let it slide.

The Snowmen: Bad

Lots of people cry at Christmas, why are the Latimers anything special?

The Bells of Saint John: Good

The whole episode is about hacking so why shouldn’t the Doctor be able to hack the spoonheads

The Name Of The Doctor: Good

It was the story arc for the season pretty much, so of course it was explained well in advance.

The Day Of The Doctor: Good

Both the storing Gallifrey like a painting and the making everyone forget if they’re Human or Zygon works in the context of the episode.

The Time Of The Doctor: Bad

Since when were the Time Lords so easily negotiated with?

Deep Breath: Good

I like the dilemma over whether the half-face man was pushed or jumped.

Into The Dalek: Good

It’s set up well with this new Doctor’s persona of actually not being too nice of a guy (at first).

Listen: N/A

There isn’t a day to be saved. It’s just 45 minutes of the Doctor testing a hypothesis and I low-key love it.

Time Heist (co-written with Steven Thompson): Good

It works logically so I’ll allow it however it isn’t very well set up at all.

The Caretaker (co-written with noted shithead Gareth Roberts): Good

The machine to tell the Blitzer what to do was set up well in advance so I’ll allow it.

Dark Water/Death In Heaven: Good

The fact that Danny still cares even as a cyberman is set up fairly early on after his transformation.

Last Christmas: Good

He does use the sonic to wake up Clara but he convinces the others to wake up through talking so I’ll allow it.

The Magician’s Apprentice/The Witch’s Familiar: Good

It’s set up well with that little scene from actually inside the sewers.

The Girl Who Died (co-written with Jamie Mathieson): Good

IDK why the vikings would randomly keep electric eels but they’re set up well so I’ll ignore it. 

The Zygon Inversion (co-written with Peter Harness): N/A 

Not including this one as it’s only the second part and I’d argue the ending is most likely Harness’.

Heaven Sent/Hell Bent: N/A

Again there isn’t really a day to be saved, yes Heaven Sent really is amazing but it’s only the first part and, being completely honest, he dies several billion times before finally getting through the wall.

The Husbands Of River Song: N/A

Again there isn’t really a day to be saved here.

The Return Of Doctor Mysterio: Good

He gets Grant to catch the bomb which is good. But he does just sonic the gun out of Dr Sim’s hand and says UNIT is on its way which just sort of wraps it up very quickly.

The Pilot: N/A

No day to be saved here.

Extremis: Good

You could technically call it the sonic saving the day, I consider it to be the Doctor emailing the Doctor to warn him of the future.

The Pyramid At The End Of The World: Good

The fire sanitising everything makes sense and it’s in character for Bill to love the Doctor enough to cure his blindness in return for the world

World Enough And Time/The Doctor Falls: Good

Yes it is the sonic just blowing the cybermen up, but it’s blowing them up with well established pipelines so I’ll allow it (also the story is amazing).

Twice Upon A Time: N/A

No day to be saved here. Just Doctors 1 and 12 getting angsty about regenerating.

Summary for Steven Moffat:

Out of 39 stories written by him, I deemed 4 to be bad with 7 abstaining. That’s 10.3% of his episodes (12.5% if we don’t count any abstaining).

Conclusions:

Moffat was much better at saving the day than RTD

Moffat liked telling stories where the day didn’t actually need to be saved

I’ve spent way too long on this and I need to sleep

If I spent as much time on this as my coursework I’d probably pass

If you’re still reading this, you probably need to get a life

The Barmaid & The Doctor - A Moment Erased

Sorry for any spelling mistakes - I'm exhausted and had to get this out! Clara and the Doctor share a moment before the memory worm wipes the hour away. 

---------

The red scarf in his hand smelled of vanilla and spice.Warm and inviting.

The barmaid, Clara. Somehow she’d followed him up into the clouds. She’d been the one to knock on the TARDIS door.

A clever one, that girl. Able to match his wit and peak his interest. How could she not? She was stunning from her long chocolate locks, to large eyes widened with curiosity and framed by pointed brows, pouty red lips  accompanied a sharp tongue. Her hourglass figure was on display in a dress that hugged her tightly. The color red complimented her olive skintone.

Since losing Amelia and Rory, it’d been a while since the Doctor had felt anything for another human. It’d been even longer since he’d let himself feel any kind of attraction towards a woman. Yet he closed his eyes and he could see her dimpled smile.

He resisted temptation for a few days before he came down off his cloud again, finding himself in front of the Rose and Crown bar. This time she was in green. Emerald. Her hair half up, the rest in curls that fluttered down her back when she floated between tables, a tray of drinks in hand, making any patron she crossed smile.

Her eyes flew to the doorway, the corner of her lips lifting into a smirk as they landed on him. With a pat on the shoulder of one of her patrons, she walked around the table to the door, arms crossed over her chest causing it to lift her breasts in perfect mounds over the neckline of her dress.

“I thought you said we’d never meet again?” She asked.

His eyes traveled to her chest before lifting once more to meet hers. “It was you.” He replied. “You, who knocked on the door a few nights ago. How did you find me?”

“Did it take you days to figure it out or days to summon the courage to leave your box again?” Clara quipped. “Sit. Let me get you a drink. I’m sure the trip down from the clouds can be tiring.”

Again, she managed to avoid the question, turning it around but not waiting for the answer. The Doctor did as he was told, sitting at a table in the corner of the bar while she returned with ale, placing the cup down before taking a seat beside him.

“Have you been thinking about the snowmen?” He asked as he became encompassed with the smell of vanilla and spice again.

“The snowmen? No. But you on the other hand…” Her chocolate eyes reflected the flickering candlelight as they looked him over in admiration, her long lashes fluttering with each blink.

“Me?” His eyebrows raised. “What about me?”

“How long it would be before I ran into you again. There were many questions you left unanswered but none more important than this - what are you? Are you magic?” Clara’s voice was soft and melodic, like a songbird in his ears, as she moved in closer to hear his response above the bustle of the crowd.

“Magic, no. I’m a Time Lord. That blue box is a spaceship and I can travel anywhere, to any place, to any time.” The doctor answered honestly, watching as her brows lifted in intrigue while her mind tried to process what she’d been told.

“Anywhere. Anyplace. At any point of time.” She repeated the words while her eyes moved between his. “And yet to choose to stay here, in a cloud overwatching our city. Something must’ve happened to you. Something bad.”

He hung his head at how pathetic he’d gotten in his mourning. “I’ve lost many friends along the way. Many people I’ve loved and cared for. When the journey becomes encompassed with death and devestation, you wonder how worth it, it all is.”

“They must’ve been very important to you.” She replied, placing a warm, comforting hand over his. She remained silent as he stared at the cup of ale in front of him, unsure of how to break his silence before she stood to her feet. “Dance with me?” She asked as she pulled on his hand to lift him.

With a small smile on his lips, it was impossible to deny her. He stood, taking her hand in his, the other resting on her lower back as the two swayed to the music played by the band in the far right corner. Clara’s chest pressed against his, her eyes searching his as she followed his lead. “I’m glad you came down again.” She whispered. “No one deserves to wallow in misery this close to Christmas.”

“Christmas.” He chuckled under his breath. “It always was my favorite.”

Clara smiled, causing his lips to curl into one as well. “I assume you’ve neglected to make a list this year?”

“It appears I have, yet you’re right in front of me. Maybe things are turning around after all.” His voice came in a harsh whisper and her gaze lowered, a warm blush sweeping her cheeks.

“How old are you, Doctor?” Clara asked, resting her head against his chest as they danced, listening to the rapid pace of not one, but two heart beats.

“Over a thousand.” He replied, his hand on the small of her back. “Does that scare you?”

“No.” He felt her head shake against him. “It saddens me.”

Lifting his head from the softness of her hair to look down at her, he raised a brow. “Why?”

Clara raised her head to look up at him, her deep eyes reading into his. “Because the world can be cruel. It makes a habit of wearing down those most deserving of love and kindness.”

There were many reasons the Doctor was drawn to her. Her wit. Yes. Her beauty. Yes. But above all, it was her ability to empathize with a stranger. Someone who’d been rude and dismissive at first encounter. Yet, she saw him as kind.

His hand traveled up her back as they stared into each other’s eyes, coming to a stop on the side of her delicate neck, his thumb brushing her jaw. Lowering his head, his lips met hers and he could feel her breath catch in her throat though the motion was welcomed. She ran her fingers up through his hair. It’d gotten much longer than he could excuse yet he liked the feeling of her gentle tug as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

It was one of his unspoken rules that he would not get intimate with his companions. Love was difficult to navigate when one party didn’t age. Yet, all he wanted to do was show Clara the world. Take her to places she could never imagine existing and watch as her eyes lit up with curiosity. His immediate desire was to take her back to the TARDIS and make love to her. Feel the love and healing from her touch.

Pulling away from eachother, Clara’s cheeks were flushed red to match her lips.  “I - I’ll be right back.” He whispered, his forehead still resting on hers. “Wait for me at our table.”

With a nod, the corner of her lip slightly twitched with the urge to question but he walked outside, leaning against the cold brick wall, reaching his hand into the inner pocket of his coat. His fingers caressed the key to the TARDIS  while his hearts played a tug of war. Was he ready for a new companion? He desperately wanted to ask but could he stand to lose someone again?

He could see  Clara standing by their table, her back facing him as she spoke with another woman. His hearts sank to his stomach as he heard her infectious laugh and he had his answer.

In his other pocket, he held the jar with the memory worm. The jar was quite large but Time Lord magic made everything bigger on the inside. He placed a glove on his hand and grabbed the worm before walking back inside, brushing behind Clara so that the worm grazed her skin, erasing the last hour of her memory. With his hat low on his head, he walked back outside, tucking the worm away and spared a glance through the window to see her looking around, confusion written across her face.

CleverMax: SDCC 2021 Masquerade Entry

Comic-Con@Home Masquerade Entry: Adventures of Clever Costume Title: CleverMax - Mr. Clever as a Borderlands boss Costume Description: Recreation of Mr. Clever from the Doctor Who episode Nightmare in Silver, written by Neil Gaiman, done in the style of the video game, Borderlands. Bio: They/He pronouns

Greetings all!

I realized that I never wrote about how I made my CleverMax mashup cosplay, so when SDCC posted about their At Home masquerade, I figured this was the perfect time to do so! Most of you know that I cosplay exclusively as Mr. Clever from Doctor Who, with the random mash up thrown in here and there. I’ve always wanted to be a Borderlands cosplayer, and the following is how I managed to combine the two together.

As always, enjoy the blog and if there are any questions, please feel free to contact me. 

Let’s step into the TARDIS and jump back to October 20, 2009, when the first Borderlands game was released. It was my first foray into FPS (First person shooters) and I was hooked from day one. In 2012 they released Borderlands 2 which is, in my not so humble opinion, the best video game ever created. We got some of the most iconic charcters and storylines in that game. Including the best DLC ever, Bunkers and Badasses. And my second favorite villain of all time – Handsome Jack.

Jack’s sass, sarcasm and charm fits well with Mr. Clever’s personality. And in the pre sequel you get to play a version of him called the Dopplegnager.  I mean, this pretty much wrote itself.

Handsome Jack from Borderlands 2 and Mr. Clever from Doctor Who

Borderlands cosplayers have aIways left me in a state of awe and admiration. The style of the game is so unique and seeing it recreated in person is nothing short of incredible. I’ve always wanted to figure out a way to be a Borderlands cosplayer. For the past eight years I have only ever cosplayed as Mr. Clever from Doctor Who. In the summer of 2019 I decided that was the perfect time to try to make this happen before NYCC.

When I initially decided to do this, it was going to be more of a mash up between Handsome Jack and Mr. Clever. I had planned on wearing Jack’s basic outfit, but in Clever’s colors with the a few add ons. Namely the bow tie and the cybernetics.

After much research and drafting, I decided against that. I ended up just turning Mr. Clever into a Borderlands boss. Same basic outfit as Mr. Clever/11th Doctor, but cel shaded and with weapons, cause Borderlands.

I made the accessories, chess set, and obviously the working cyberplanner piece itself for my Nightmare in Silver version of Clever, but I have never tackled anything this ambitious. An entire costume from scratch? Not something I thought I could do. Not knowing how to sew and being visually impaired were both challenges that I had to work around.

I started with looking around my house for various items that I thought I could use. I figured if I messed up, might as well mess up on something I hadn’t spent money on yet! I was going to toss a pair of my old paddock boots as they had some rips in the leather. Ripped leather? How very Pandora. They were the first thing I tackled.

Old paddock boots that I refurbished for the cosplay

This was my first time using leather paint and I have to say I am very pleased with the Angelus brand of leather paint. I have worn these in the rain and through puddles, and they have held up 100%.

After the boots were done, I started on the vest. I had an old black vest lying around the house that was sort of the shape and size I wanted. I don’t have a dress form, so I put it on myself, inside out, and used safety pins to make it the size I needed, then hand sewed around the safety pins. Not ideal, but it works.

I had a spare pair of black jeans, button down light blue shirt and a plain bow tie that I just ended up cel shading.

The only item that I really couldn’t figure out was the purple frock coat. Try as I might, I couldn’t find one to modify. So the coat was actually made by my friend Heather Long. I did alter the length after NYCC. 

With the clothes themselves all set, for the most part anyay, it was time to paint. This was my first time trying to recreate the art style of Borderlands, often referred to as cel shading. I have a few “art of Borderlands” style books that I poured over before I sat down to attempt this.

Other than the accessories and anything leather, I used the same materials and techniques for each article of clothing. Instead of describing each seprate piece, I’ll just explain what I did to achieve the overall look.

When you look at a Borderlands character on screen, it can be a bit overwhelming. So many colors, and so many nuances of each color. I did my best to visually sift through all that, and try to establish what I thought was the base color.

Once the base color was determined, I just added blotches, blobs, shading, low lights, highlights and other variations of the base color itself throughout each piece. I recommend keeping your fabric wrinkled and using those wrinkle as guidlenes for where the lines and shading would fall naturally.

Once all of that dried, I then went over different sections of the fabric with white and black lines. To get that crisp, almost comic book looking outline of each piece I used black sharpie, and white fabric pens as well as white fabric paint.

When I sat down to do the coat, I wanted something a little different than just cel shading. During a second playthrough of Tales from the Borderlands, I noticed Rhys and other characters had interesting logos and designs on the back of their jackets. I ended up putting a chessboard pattern on the back as a homage to the chess game between the 11th Doctor and Mr. Clever in the episode.

Great shot of the chess board and my Judd Nelson pose

The materials that I used for all of the clothing items were craft paints that I had around the house. Any brand works, but I prefer Americana paints. I then added an additive that you use to make the paint water proof and used various sized brushes. Dry brushes are also very useful if you have them.

Black sharpies of different sizes and any fabric markers are also very helpful. Heat setting is required to make the paint waterpfoof, so if you mess up before you add sharpies, you can wash the clothes and start over.

A few tips if you decide to undertake cel shading clothing: Until now I hadn’t noticed that there aren’t many thing in Borderlands that are true black. Due to the art style most things that appear black are in reality shades of grey, with a grey base colr. This makes it easier to add the lines, shading, and what not.  Looking back, I should have bought GREY clothes. It was a ton of work to make the pants look like they were a mixture of greys. And as a result of so many laers of paint, they are stiff, lost their stretch and feel an entire size smaller! So I would recommend grey fabric as a base for black clothing and buy a size larger.

The pants are so stiff that I think they will stand up on their own

This entire process was way more fun than I thought it would be and I’ve since become addicted to cel shading anything I can. I may or may not have started cel shading my guest room. 

After the clothing was finished, I started on some accessories and props. The first being the easiet – a wee little cybermite that I cel shaded. My cosplay of Mr. Clever always has a cybermite on my lapel, so I took one of my older ones and repainted it.

You can’t have a Borderlands character without some sort of weapon, so I painted a nerf gun that looks similar to the one that Clara Oswald holds in the episode.

I have never had to carry a gun for my Mr. Clever cosplay before so weapon checks are sort of new to me. I didn’t want to go through that at NYCC so I came up with a clever, no pun intended, way around it.

I took a photo of each side of the gun. Went to Staples and had them printed on heavy cardstock. Then I cut around the guns, glued them together between a piece of cardboard then added some black electical tape around the edges.  Viola. Instant weapons check approved gun that is lightweight, and also acts a fan when it gets hot. It was a huge hit at the con. A few security guards were like “ we have to check your…wait..is that flat?” And they proceeded to play with it. I highly recommend doing this!

Gun and its flat counterpart

I am holding the flat gun in this picture from NYCC

In the actual game, you can equip your characters with mods that give them certain abilities and bonuses. In the Pre-Sequel, you can play as a Dopplganger of Handsome Jack so I searched for some of his mods and found one in purple which seemed perfect. I made the mod with cardboard, covered it in craft foam, modge podge to set, and installed led lights. The first time I wore it I put it on my belt which didn’t work. It kept falling off. I eventually put it on my lapel and wore it like Jack does. Unfortunately, someone glomped on me at a con and broke it, so I recently had to remake it all over again.

No Borderlands costume would be complete without cel shading on yourself. This was a huge challenge for me for a few reasons. One, I’m visually impaired so doing line work like this was challenging. Two, I am highly allergic to so many materials and ingrediants that finding a make up brand that I could wear was a trial and error process that ended up with many break outs and rashes before I found the perfect combination.

I used mostly eye liner pencils and liquid eye liner to achieve the look. The Wet n Wild liquid eye liner lasts forever, and is actually difficult to remove, but that is not a bad thing as it stood up to the heat of a very crowded venue.

As for the cel shading itself, I relied on many refernce photos of various characters in the game. I started with the eyebrows first as that seemed to frame the face nicely and give me a nice mischvieous look. I then just outlined the bones of my face, adding some random lines here and there. It never looks the same way twice, but that’s ok. Playing with different angles, lines, shading etc is half the fun!

The only real challenge were my hands. The make up didn’t last that long on my hands so I had to touch it up throughout the con. I also eventually started to use band aids that I cel sahded to cover up a tattoo on my inner wrist.

Figuring what to do with my hair is an on going process that I still haven’t 100% mastered. I opted to not use a foam wig as I have over heating issues on a cool day let alone trying to wear one if it gets warmer. I have had adverse reactions to craft foam in the past, so I don’t want it touching my skin, and lastly, I think a wig AND a facial prosthetic would be too much for me. So I decided to just cel shade my hair.

This takes forever to do, and I’m still figuring out better techniques every time I wear it.

I have a really great brand of colored gel, called Mofajang which I apply with a baster brush that you would find in the kitchen gadgets aisle. I also use a clean mascara brush to add some finer lines here and there. Set with way more hair spray than I ever used in the 80’s and it becomes fairly waterproof.

I have learned that due to how hard the make up and hair color is to remove, I really need to wear this on the LAST day of a con. I made the mistake of wearing it on day one of Long Island Who one year, and spent hours scrubbing my skin and hair for the next day. Far better to just leave the con with a tad bit of left over cel shading. Which makes it very interesting when you stop at a roadside bathroom on the trip home.

With the entire costume done it was time to work on the actual cyberplanner appliance. 

Next time I make a variation of Clever, I will make this FIRST. Making these pieces is the bane of my existence – I love wearing them, hate making them.  It’s a long process.

I am allergic to latex, silocone, scuply, most clays, and so many other things that seem to be every cosplayers go-to. When I made my first cyber piece back in late 2013, I spent weeks trying to find a substance that would keep attached to my face all day without causing a rash. Like an alchemist in a fantasy novel, I submerged myself into creating the perfect concoction. It took 22 days to finish the final product.

I admit that I rushed a bit on the Borderlands one.  As a result, it doesn’t quite fit as well as my others, and is a bit heavier than I expected. I only added two working lights, instead of the usual four, to hopefully balance the piece out. It lasted through two full days of a con, despite the heat of a crowded venue, but I did end up tweaking it a bit after. Even with the tweaks, it still doesn’t fit as well as I would like. It is too heavy and brings down the entire left side of my face, making it difficult to keep my eye open at times. I really need to sit down and force myself to make a new one.

There are a few more things that I would like to add to this costume eventually. Like a belt of grenades, and maybe another gun. But aside from that, I am incredibly pleased with how this costume turned out. It is by far, my favorite Clever variation that I have done.

I hope this post gives you the inspiration to go off and cel shade something, and possibly even play some Borderlands!

Chapter 10: The Lesser Evil

Tranzelore

“Don’t go, please my love, it’s too dangerous.“ River pleaded, grabbing her husband’s arm as he headed for his time stream that pulsed and flared in the middle of his supposed tomb.“You can’t cross into your own time stream.“ It was done, Vastra, Jenny and Strax where back, so were Amy and Rory. Clara had done it, jumping into his time stream, she had stopped the Great Intelligence at every turn, keeping the timeline intact. There was nothing left to do.

“I’ve got to get her out.“ He insisted stepping closer to his time stream.

“You could die, you could cease to exist.“ River argued trying to stop him.

“She’s always there, all over my time stream, that is why she is important.“ The pieces were falling into place. This was why they had been encountering Clara over and over again. He had been so intrigued and finally, he had figured it out. “Run you clever boy and remember.“ He echoed the words she had said to him many times over.

“Darling.“ River could sense she wasn’t getting anywhere, her husband was in a world of his own thoughts.

“Finally I’ve worked her out.“ He grinned, pleased with the accomplishment. Initially he’d only kept her close out of curiosity, trying to work out how she could be appearing and dying again and again but what a nice surprise that she was actually a loyal friend all along. Sacrificing herself by jumping into his time stream, he could hardly think of a greater proof of loyalty.

“Then leave it at that.“ River tried to reason with him. “We’re safe, the timeline is intact, don’t risk it now, making her sacrifice pointless.“

“I won’t fail.“ He reassured her, a confident smile on his handsome features.

“But what if you do.“ River exclaimed. “You can’t risk your life for hers!“

“Why not?“ He looked back at her confused.

“Why not?!“ River echoed his words in disbelief.

“There are only very few people we can truly trust River, we need to keep them close. She’s just proven her loyalty.“ He looked back to the pulsing energy as if he could see Clara within it. “I owe her to get her out of there.“

“Is that all? Loyalty?“ River’s words were sharper than she had intended, revealing more than she meant to.

“River.“ He groaned in annoyance. Jealousy was not an attractive quality.

“I think it’s a fair question, you’d make me a widow of me in a pointless attempt at saving her?“ River retorted accusingly. Surely he had to know how this would make her feel.

“River, I love you, you must know that.“ He started reaching for her hand, trying to reassure her.

“Then listen to me!“ River insisted, her expression one of both anger and fear. What if he did, in fact, lose himself in there? She couldn’t bare the idea of losing him.

“I always listen.“ He told her and pulled her into his arms. “You’re the one that always here by my side, you’re the first thing I see when I wake and the last when I go to sleep. And I always listen.“ He pressed a kiss to her hair. “But sometimes, you have to listen to me too when I tell that this is what I have to do.“ He took her face in his hands and kissed her, hoping to convey his love and devotion. “Trust me?“ He asked softly as they parted.

“Always.“ River smiled. That impossible, infuriating man.

“See you in a minute, Professor Song.“ He gave her a wink, straightened his bowtie and jumped into his time stream.

——

“Now isn’t that a bit forward, seeing as you’re still fully dressed, Doctor?“ River smirked as she grabbed the Doctor by the collar and ripped her shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. The Doctor jolted back, colour draining from her face. She was too shocked to respond and River took advantage of her stupor. She pulled her around, knocking her into the wall face first. The Doctor tried to pull away but River pinned her against the wall with her own weight. “What? Should I not have said anything? Would you like to keep going and we pretend I don’t know who you really are?“ River hummed against the shell of her ear as she pressed herself against her. She brushed her hair aside and pushed her other hand around her, fumbling with the button of her trousers.

“You knew.“ The Doctor groaned as River trailed kisses up the side of her neck. She tried to pull away from her touch. This had been a terrible idea. She was already regretting her moment of weakness. “When did you realise?“

“About five seconds in.“ The amusement was audible in River’s sultry voice.

“Then why did you…“ The Doctor tried to throw her off, anxiety building as River succeeded in unbuttoning her trousers. She should have realised this was a trap, she should have questioned why River had fallen for her act so completely. She should have known she wouldn’t be able to imitate the Emperor well enough to fool her own wife.

“It got you here, didn’t it? Also… I was curious to see how far you’d go…“ River chuckled as she buried her hand in the Doctor’s hair and pulled her head back. “Maybe I should have let you carry on, now we will never know.“ She ran her hand along the waistband of her Doctor’s pants, clearly enjoying the Doctor’s near-panic as she fought against her. “But alas, I couldn’t do that to my wife.“ Unexpectedly, she let go of her and took a step back, tying up her nightgown. “I didn’t think that I would have to be the one to stop.“ She tilted her head in amusement as she watched the Doctor turn around quickly doing up her trousers, she tried to pull the shirt shut to cover herself up but the buttons were all but two ripped off. Her eyes darted around the room for a way out as River regarded her like a lioness her prey. “Don’t even think about it. I triggered a silent alarm ages ago when I went to get changed.“ River smirked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Of course you did.“ The Doctor groaned, annoyed by her own stupidity, she really should have known.

“Well, I didn’t know how much time I would have. How was I to know you were that easily to keep close.“ River chuckled. “The guards are outside the door and my wife should be home any minute. You think you had a hard time last time? Just wait till she finds out what you’ve been up to.“

——

“Fine, no more games.“ Clara chuckled, there was no need for theatrics now that she had got River out of sight of anyone else. “I think that’s quite enough of that.“ Somewhere in the other room the squark of a raven sounded making River look around for a second. As she looked back to Clara, her tattoos began to blur, rising up into the air.

“A quantum shade.“ River jerked back, immediately realising what she was dealing with.

“Aren’t you the perceptive one.“ Clara replied patronisingly as she pushed River’s hand with the knife away. “Now, I suggest you stop this.“ She tried to shove her off and River obliged, she got to her feet and stepped back, keeping the swirling darkness in her sights. She knew when something could be fought and when it was better to take a step back and reevaluate her options. “There’s a good girl.“ Clara got to her feet as River tried to formulate an escape plan.

“You’re trying to use me to get to the Doctor. Is she even here?“ River tried her best to control her anger, as she realised what was going on. She wanted answers. She didn’t do well at the mercy of others. She threw the butter knife across the room in anger.

“Oh she’s here alright.“ Clara said softly. “And yes, I am going to use you to get her help.“

“Her help? If you need help, you just ask for it! You don’t have to blackmail the Doctor, the Doctor always helps if…“ River exclaimed but Clara started laughing, interrupting her.

“The Doctor always helps.“ She mimicked her. “I bet she does as well… You’re so naive. Both of you are. It’s laughable. Just between us girls, River, I don’t think it’s the sort of help she’ll want to give.“

The Raven burst out of the other room making River take a step back. It landed on Clara’s shoulder as she held out the note she’d written earlier.

——

“Alright, fine, shouldn’t have done this, I get it.“ The Doctor tried her best to steady her voice. “Brain short-circuited, physically you could be my wife after all.“

“Yes yes and since she’s dead, it’s not really cheating, is it? You tell yourself that. I thought you were someone who would be kept up at night by this sort of thing but maybe I underestimated you after all. Or I overestimated your devotion to your wife.“ River hummed with no small measure of gratification in her voice. “Do you still want my hand between your legs, Doctor?“

“That’s quite alright, I can sort that out for myself later.“ The Doctor bit back, trying to give as good as she got and gloss over how much her words stung.

“I very much doubt you’ll get the opportunity.“ River grinned briefly glancing to the door. The Doctor couldn’t be sure if she actually expected her wife to return any moment now or if she was only trying to intimidate her by acting like she would. Either way, she needed to get out of here now.

“You really are remarkably like my River, witty, determined, strong… but there’s just one thing, one mistake my River never would have made.“ The Doctor said as River returned her attention to her.

“Yeah? And what’s that?“ River laughed.

“My River never let’s me keep my sonic when she doesn’t want me to get out of handcuffs.“ The Doctor grabbed her sonic screwdriver from her back pocket and blasted River with it. It wasn’t much, not harmful, not debilitating but for a moment, she blinded her, disoriented her, scrambling the signals from the nerves in her eyes to her brain. A moment was all the Doctor needed to bolt and rush to the TARDIS. River screamed, not in pain but in anger as she needed a moment to recover. The Doctor wasn’t even paying attention to her anymore, she didn’t look back, when she found the TARDIS wasn’t locked. She rushed inside and the lights came on. It wasn’t the warm golden light she knew, it was red and garish against the black walls.

“Really bloody cheerful.“ The Doctor mumbled to herself as she hurried to the console. She started pressing buttons and pulling levers but the TARDIS revolted. The humming and wheezing was loud, unhappy, the Doctor got an electric shock and she pulled her hand back. The TARDIS knew she wasn’t the Emperor and she was refusing to cooperate.

“She won’t let just anyone fly her.“ The Doctor whirled around to see River heading for her. The diversion had been even less effective than she had hoped. “You’re going to regret this, Doctor.“ River snarled.

“Emergency teleport then!“ The Doctor used her sonic to blast the TARDIS console. Sparks flew and River lunged forward but the TARDIS control room around her disappeared. It wasn’t ideal, she didn’t have the TARDIS like she had hoped, but it was a way out.

When the Doctor materialised she looked around panicked, trying to orient herself.

“Great, it worked!“ She exclaimed as she recognised Clara’s quarters. “Clara! We need to talk!“ She looked around for Clara but froze when she found a second person with her. “River…“ The Doctor’s eyes widened in shock. There was no way the Emperor’s wife would have been able to get here before her. She wouldn’t have known where the teleport went and this River was wearing the environmental suit she had worn in the Library. There was only one explanation. The Doctor’s head was spinning, she felt sick as her emotions overwhelmed her. The extraction chamber had worked, River was here.

River looked back at her in surprise. This woman had just appeared out of thin air and judging by the look on Clara’s face, she hadn’t expected her sudden appearance either. The blonde looked at her as if she was a ghost or perhaps a wish come true? There were all sorts of emotions painted on her soft features and tears were welling up in her big eyes that were so impossibly deep and old, not at all matching the youthfulness of her pretty face.

“Doctor?“ River asked slowly remember what Clara had told her. The Doctor was a woman now and this woman looked at her as if she was her sun and stars.

“River, you’re alive!“ The Doctor exclaimed and throwing caution to the wind she rushed to her, flinging herself around her neck. River was overwhelmed, she nearly knocked her off her feet but she pulled her close, held her, reflex more than anything else, as she tried to wrap her head around what she already knew to be true.

“Is it really you?“ She asked tentatively as she pulled back and looked the blonde up and down.

“Oh right, you haven’t seen this face before.“ The Doctor smiled as she took a step back and wiped away a few stray tears in embarrassment.

“Can’t say that I mind…“ River chuckled. “What have you been up to?“ She raised her eyebrows at her barely buttoned shirt.

“Ah… uhh…“ The Doctor blushed and a crushing wave of guilt came over her, overshadowing her joy for seeing her. What had she done? How could she? She struggled to breath as she was searching for the right words.

“Sorry to interrupt this touching moment, but you are in my quarters.“ Clara interrupted at last, fed up of being ignored. She scrunched up the note she had been about to give her Raven. There was no need for it now. This was even better than she could have imagined.

“Clara.“ The Doctor pulled River behind herself as she turned to face her.

“How nice of you to join us, Doctor.“ Clara smirked, observing her protective gesture with amusement. Yes, this would work very well indeed. “It seems as though you forgot something in the extraction chamber.“

“What’s going on here?“ The Doctor demanded to know.

“What’s going on is that I was just trying to work out what exactly happened when you came here, Doctor, and as I was having my look around the extraction chamber, your wife appeared.“ Clara explained with a smug smile.

“River, are you okay, are you…“ The Doctor glanced to her wife and grabbed her hand to assure herself she was here.

“Alive? I think so. As alive as one is coming out of an extraction chamber…“ River replied giving her hand a squeeze. “I know what it does Doctor, you sentimental idiot, you couldn’t just let me die, could you? I’ll have to go back eventually, you know, unless you want a paradox ripping time apart… again…“ She knew the sad truth behind what the Doctor had done. As much as she appreciated the sentiment, there was more heartbreak to come for them, it couldn’t be avoided. And yet, she was grateful for every moment she got to spend with her husband… wife.

“But not for a while. How about we deal with all that when we get out of here.“ The Doctor suggested, trying not to think about what she was implying.

“Sounds like a good idea.“ River nodded looking around for an escape route again.

“You are not going anywhere, Doctor, not just yet. Mind you, we probably haven’t got long to have this conversation. Your teleport, I’m sure they’ll be able to trace it.“ Clara pointed out.

“I don’t think there are any guards at the door.“ River said and the Doctor nodded, having come to the same conclusion.

“Run?“ The Doctor suggested as they inched away from Clara.

“Let’s.“ River agreed and they bolted to the door but Clara had other ideas. The Raven took off and sailed in front of them, barring the door.

“I don’t think so.“ Clara hummed and the tattoos dissolved, swirling into to air and jolted forward. The dark smoke struck the back of River’s neck forming a quantum lock.

“No!“ The Doctor shouted whipping back around to Clara.

“Do I have your attention now, Doctor? I said we need to have a conversation.“ Clara crossed her arms in front of her chest expectantly.

“Take it off her.“ The Doctor yelled taking a threatening step towards Clara who grinned:

“I will, eventually, if you agree to help me with a little something.“

“What?“ The Doctor asked and looked to River with great worry. River touched the back of her neck her expression darkening. Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“I would like your help, Doctor. Your wife assures me one only needs to ask for your help? Well, I thought it would be more convincing if I had your wife as collateral.“ Clara revealed and the Doctor squared her jaw.

“What do you want?“

“You’ve been here long enough now to know, Doctor, that this is not a nice place. You’ve been to the streets, you’ve seen the poverty, the state of the Empire? Perhaps you will reconsider what we talked about before?“ Clara smiled.

“You want to topple the Emperor.“ The Doctor concluded with a sigh.

“I’d never be able to do it by myself as you know and it’s unlikely I’ll ever be able to convince her that I am a far more suitable match for her… so I’m left with few options.“ Clara confirmed with a shrug.

“I won’t kill anyone, not even her…“ The Doctor retorted firmly.

“I realise that and I don’t expect you to. What I do need you to do is play a role. It looks like you have been having a practice run already. There is a ceremony tomorrow, celebrating the Emperor���s return to Gallifrey, it’s the most important holiday. That is why the Emperor has been so eager to get information out of you so quickly, I presume she was trying to announce the next big chapter for the Empire tomorrow.“ Clara explained crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“That’s never going to happen, I would sooner die than tell you how…“ The Doctor shook her head. River looked on in confusion. Who was this mysterious Emperor they were referring to? It sounded like the Doctor had been here a while already and was one step ahead of her.

“Oh I know and I’ve accepted that. I want you to announce the next big chapter in the history of the Empire in her stead tomorrow.“ Clara clarified and the Doctor understood:

“Transfer power to you.“

“Exactly. Not so difficult, is it? Small price to pay for your wife’s life isn’t it?“ Clara glanced to River who still had confusion painted all over her face.

“And how are you going get rid of the Emperor?“ The Doctor asked which seemed to be the one big catch.  

“You leave that to me. You just be back here tomorrow at noon. I would keep you here but you’ve ruined it now with your teleport trick. It they find you here we’re both done for, they need to see you fleeing the palace so the don’t suspect me.“ Clara sighed, what an inconvenience. Likelihood was they had traced the teleport by now and were on their way here. She had to wrap this up.

“And what if I don’t agree?“ The Doctor huffed.

“You will do this for me, Doctor, or your wife, who was so very fortunate to get a second lease on life, will die.“ Clara shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s really a very easy decision to make. I will contact you with the details, my Raven will find you.“

“Take off the lock.“ The Doctor demanded, her voice firm.

“Once I can be sure of your cooperation.“ Clara smiled giving River a wink.

“Fine, alright, I’ll do it, but you leave her alone.“ The Doctor threatened.

“I’ll take the mark off her once it’s done.“ Clara clapped her hands together in excitement.

“No! You take it off her and you take it off her NOW!“ The Doctor yelled jabbing her finger at her.

“Alright, fine. Just remember I can put it back whenever I please.“ Clara huffed and with a wave of her hand, the chrono lock disappeared from River’s neck. River gave a sigh of relief.

“And you take it off the Monk.“ The Doctor went on, remembering why she had come here in the first place.

“The Monk?“ Clara frowned confused.

“Sign of good faith. If you want my help, do it.“ The Doctor insisted.

“Alright, fine, don’t care about him either way.“ Clara gave another wave of her hand. It wasn’t like the Emperor had any way of finding out about this.

“Doctor, you can’t help her…“ River spoke up. She wasn’t sure what exactly was going on but the Doctor was being blackmailed into doing something she didn’t want to do, and that in itself was enough information for her to protest.

“It’s a matter of the lesser evil, River. You haven’t met the Emperor yet… and her wife.“ The Doctor replied, hoping she never would come across them. “They deserve it.“

“Yes they do, Doctor. I’m glad you have come to your senses.“ Clara agreed.

“When it’s done, I’m taking the TARDIS. You can’t fly it anyway. I will need it to find a way home.“ The Doctor realised this was the right moment to bargain. If she wanted to find a way back to her own universe, the TARDIS would be her best bet.

“Fine.“ Clara smiled at her graciously. She had no use for the TARDIS anyway. The Emperor and her wife were the only ones that could fly her. She couldn’t imagine the Doctor would even find a way of using it. “See, the things we can accomplish when we work together.“

“Then you have yourself a deal.“ The Doctor nodded. Her best and only cause of action right now was to agree. She could reevaluate her options later when her and River had got to relative safety.

“Now, I suggest you go, before the guards turn up.“ Clara engaged a screen on the wall, surveillance of the corridor outside.

“River…“ The Doctor grabbed her wife’s hand again but Clara cut in:

“…will be my honoured guest until tomorrow. No harm will come to her, I need her as assurance and you know I wouldn’t harm her, else I would have nothing to pressure you with.“ The Raven squawked for emphasis. “You know I’m right.“ She extended her hand to River. “Unless you’d like that chrono lock back?“

“I’ll be fine, Sweetie.“ River gave her wife’s hand a squeeze before letting go and joining Clara though ignoring her hand. “I’m sure Clara and I have a lot to talk about.“ Perhaps she could find out more about this place.

“We’ll braid each other’s hair and drink champagne, nothing for you to worry about, Doctor.“ Clara smirked at the Doctor who balled her fists, feeling anxious. She didn’t like the idea of leaving River here but under the circumstances she might not have another choice. She glanced to the screen and spotted guards heading their way. They were running out of time. “Now be a dear and make sure they see you as you bolt down the corridor so they leave us alone in here.“ Clara said going her a little wave.

“Everything will be fine, River, I promise, I will come back for you.“ The Doctor looked to her wife who gave her a little smile.

“Well, you better, what good was all that business with the extraction chamber if you don’t.“ River winked. “Go before they catch up with you.“

“I will be back.“ The Doctor insisted. There was so much she wanted to say, she had played it out so many times in her mind of what she would say if she ever got to see River again, but now there was no time. And very little hope. But she took what she could from the little smile and nod River gave her. There was time for words later.

The Doctor had hardly pulled the door shut behind her, when she heard voices. She hurried towards the hidden passage way but hung on by the corner where she could still see the door to Clara’s rooms. She couldn’t allow for River to get caught. If they had in fact traced her teleport signal, they would be searching for her there. When she realised the guards indeed headed straight for the door, she knocked over a nearby bust that crashed to the ground and drew their attention. Calling “Oi! Over here.“ would have been too obvious, they couldn’t realise she was drawing their attention on purpose. When she was sure they’d seen her, she bolted down the corridor. Luckily, she knew more than one secret shortcut to the city below.

——

Clara knocked over a table and some vases, creating traces of a struggle. She picked up a shard from the broken vase and cut her own arm, barely flinching. River raised her eyebrows, concluding that she had to be very scared of the Emperor to go to such lengths to not be found out.

“I don’t think I have to explain to you what will happen if anyone finds you in here.“ Clara caught the questioning expression on River’s face and ushered her to a small room further into her quarters.

“No, you don’t but there is something you do need to explain to me: the Emperor, who is she? And why do you need the Doctor?“ River asked.

“Miss Oswald, please open up.“ There was knocking on the door.

“We haven’t got time for this, get in here and not a sound.“ Clara pushed her into the room and locked the door. River didn’t struggle, she didn’t trust Clara but she trusted the Doctor and if she was concerned for her safety should anyone find her, she know she should try her best to hide. She looked around the room, a small spare bedroom by the looks of it. Nothing much to it, nothing that she could fashion a weapon out of if needed. The vase on the dresser appeared to be her best bet so she grabbed it and stood against the door, pressing her ear to it. She had to find out more about what was going on here.

“Emperor…“ Clara’s voice was distant but clear.

“Don’t even start, Clara! We know she was here. Using my own TARDIS, she’s going to pay for that!“

River froze when she recognised a voice that sounded exactly like the Doctor’s, only with an icy edge to it. Suddenly, Clara’s demands were making a lot more sense. The puzzle pieces were falling into place and River didn’t care for the picture they were revealing.

Of Star-Touched Skin

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: Whouffle

Length: 2,300 words

Rating: G

Also on Ao3

Summary: He’s a fairy tale. In fact, he’s even older than a fairy tale. He’s seen stars burn out and die and entire galaxies fade away to nothing. But there’s stardust in his eyes, and Clara swears that he always carries part of the universe inside him, that there are nebulas in his veins, that there are stories and starlight older than half the world written into his bones.

Or: Three moments Clara spends with the Doctor, during Trenzalore and in its aftermath.

01.

He’s a fairy tale. He’s older than a fairy tale. He’s seen stars burn out and die and entire galaxies fade away to nothing. But there’s stardust in his eyes, and Clara swears - swears - that the Doctor always carries part of the universe inside him, that there are nebulas in his veins, that there are stories and starlight older than half the world written into his bones.

And here’s the thing: she cannot let him die.

She will not let him die.

They are on Trenzalore, in a dying TARDIS overtaken with vines. The stars are going out and the Doctor is dying, which, perhaps, Clara thinks, is the same thing. He and the universe are one and the same, after all, which is why she has to save him.

If she jumps into the time stream, it will scatter her like confetti. She'll be ripped apart and remade again and again and again, and she’ll feel herself falling like rain just to be where he is. But despite the fear she feels blooming in the pit of her stomach, she steps toward the burning red glow of his time stream anyway.

This is something she has to do.

Even if it scares her.

She hears him telling her no, to stop, but when has she ever let anyone tell her what to do, anyway? It’s not like her to give in to others once she’s made up her mind, not even to the Doctor.

“Run, you clever boy,” she says, and she can already imagine him running, fast and safe and ready to save another world, “and remember me.”

Just before she jumps, she spares herself one last look at him, and she focuses on his big, sad eyes that have the magnitude of a hundred burning stars.

And then she smiles.

(When she leaps, she wonders if there’ll be stars where she’s going.

She hopes there will be.)

02.

She has searched for him all throughout history, died for him all throughout history, and wherever and whenever she is, somewhere in the back of her mind is the thought I have to save the Doctor, ever constant, like the cadence of her heartbeat. There are ghosts of hundreds of thousands of different lifetimes in her mind and too many questions to count, and when she dreams, she dreams of dying.

She’s dreaming she’s dying now, and it’s familiar, too familiar, in a way that twists her heart and makes her scream.

“Clara, wake up,” a voice says, interrupting her dream. The voice is one that is soft and kind, and one she’ll always trust, and she feels herself being pulled out of her sleep and back into reality. “You’re okay, Clara, I’m here. You’re safe, I swear it.”

When Clara opens her eyes, she finds that she’s lying on the divan in the TARDIS library, and sees the Doctor sitting by her feet, staring at her with his ancient, worried eyes, and she wonders when the last time he slept was.

It’s been three days since Trenzalore, and the Doctor hasn’t strayed very far from her side. He’s stood guard over her, while she’s awake and while she’s asleep, just an arm’s length away in case she reaches out for him. She feels perplexed, honestly, and maybe a little bit awed that he does. Not that the Doctor isn’t kind, not that she doubts he cares, but it’s just that he’s forever in motion, forever running (always, always, always running, she thinks as she remembers chasing after him decade after decade). So it says something, she feels, that this man who’s always been in perpetual motion stops for her.

“You were reading and fell asleep in here,” the Doctor says, and Clara isn’t sure if he’s talking to her or making a mental note of where to look for her if she should wander off from him again.

Still, she answers him anyway. “Must’ve. Haven’t been sleeping much at night.”

Not since the nightmares started.

(“What do you dream about?” The Doctor had asked her, after the third time she woke up screaming, and he looked like he desperately wanted to know, but also desperately didn’t.

“Death,” she had answered him. “Like I’m dying everywhere, all at once. But also, you. Always you.”)

Clara sits up now, so sharply and suddenly that it makes her head spin, but she can’t lie down any longer, it feels too much like another memory she has, a distant, hazy one where she’s lying down, taking her last breaths in a blue Victorian dress while snow fills the sky. The Doctor says nothing, simply reaches out to take her hand in his, and they sit there, in the warm golden glow of the library, not moving or talking, just breathing, just being.

“I’m fine now,” Clara says after several minutes have passed, and it isn’t quite the truth but it isn’t exactly a lie either. This is probably as fine as she can be right now.

“Sorry I wasn’t here,” the Doctor says, and Clara can hear the remorse woven into his words. “I thought you were reading. I thought you would be okay.”

“Who’s the nanny here exactly?” Clara says, amused, and she means to scold him for worrying but her tone comes out too fondly. “You don’t have to keep an eye on me all the time, Doctor.”

”You’ve kept watch over me for centuries,” he reminds her gently. “You can rest now, Clara, please, let me watch over you for once.”

He moves his hand to her face, thumb ghosting across her cheekbone again and again, as if he can leave a trail of constellations across her skin with his touch. And he’s staring at her with that look again, the look that says he’s entirely in her debt, but is still unsure of exactly why she did it, why she’d spend generations dying for one stupid old man.

“I think you carry the story of the universe inside you,” she says in answer to his unasked question.

Normally, she wouldn’t say things like this to him - or to anyone, really - but now she does. Because now the TARDIS is floating somewhere up in the sky, and she feels like she’s somewhere outside of time and space. Today doesn’t count, she reasons, today she can say things she normally never would.

He raises his eyebrows at her in disbelief, as if he’s wondering if she’s caught time wind delirium and she frowns at him because he still doesn’t get it.

Clara can only see tiny glimpses of her other lives, like brief flashes of light in the fog. But she remembers moments with him. She always remembers him. And the thing is, his faces changed all the time, but his eyes never did, his eyes were always filled with magic and mischief and moonlight, just like the rest of him. And he doesn’t understand, thinks he’s just a madman who stole a magic box and ran away (and he is, she knows that, she was there, she helped), but he’s more than that. He is built of the universe, she thinks idly, with supernovas in his two hearts and binary stars in his bones.

He’s giving her a look now, one that’s lovely and sad and drives her half-mad, because he looks like he knows something she doesn’t.

“What?” she demands, raising an eyebrow. She knows when he’s not telling her things. “What are you thinking?”

“You’ve lived over and over again, scattered throughout time and space like stardust, from one end of the universe to the other, Clara Oswald,” he tells her. “You say you think I carry the story of the universe within me, but if that’s true, then now you do too. You’ve seen more sunsets and solstices and shooting stars than any other human alive. You, my impossible girl, have lived thousands upon thousands of lifetimes, even more than me,” he smiles at that, and his hand is still on her cheek, the tips of his long, clever fingers touching her hair, and she finds herself leaning into his touch. “There are universes coursing through your veins and moonlight glittering in your soul, and every star that’s ever shone lives within you, you have to know that, Clara.”

And when Clara’s eyes feel like they start to sting after that, she blames it on weakness from the time stream, and lets him pull her into a hug, smiling as his hands softly stroke her hair.

03.

It’s been seven days since Trenzalore and three days since Clara’s been able to sleep through the night, which means that today she finally feels well enough to go on a trip.

(“Take me somewhere peaceful,” she’d commanded the Doctor earlier. “No revolutions, no people-eating monster or alien things of any size or sort, and absolutely no running.”

“Alright, you’re the boss.”

“I am, aren’t I?”)

Currently, the Doctor’s beaming at a star-map, trying to find someplace nice to go. It’s a holographic star-map, one that spreads the universe throughout the TARDIS and surrounds them with stars. There’s a tiny three-dimensional vortex thrumming by Clara’s shoulder, rumbling asteroid fields floating about the console, and above her head, tiny little clusters of stars. Unable to help herself, Clara reaches out toward a golden ringed-planet in front of her, and the glowing holograph sifts through her fingers like sand.

The Doctor walks through the map as he studies it, holographs blurring across his silhouette, and Clara is struck by how much he looks at home amongst the holographic universe. He’s glowing, the energy radiating off of him like he’s a star that’ll never burn out. She thinks of every wonder he must’ve seen: Watercolor nebulas that burned brightly in the black expanse. Patches of sky where stars were just forming. Green suns that glowed and diamond snow that spun and rain made of glass.

He has it all within him, she thinks, every wondrous, wander-lust moment.

She remembers that she has that now too, and she wonders if she looks like he does: like she’s got a slice of the universe inside her.

Across the holographic galaxy, over the console, she feels the Doctor’s eyes on her, and when she looks up, she sees that he’s smiling softly at her like she is something magnificent, something exquisite.

He makes her feel like maybe she is.

The Doctor’s eyes flicker back to the star-map and he mutters an exclamation under his breath as his eyes land on the planet he’s looking for. The exclamation he makes is one made in happiness, and is almost uttered unconsciously, as if he doesn’t realize he’s thinking out loud, and it’s in a language so, so old, that Clara shouldn’t be able to understand it, but she does.

“The width and breadth of the sky,” she repeats in perfect Gallifreyan, and the action is unbidden and effortless, like the words are muscle memory on her tongue.

And then she gasps, breathless and shocked and like she’s been struck by lightning, and when her eyes meet the Doctor’s, she sees he looks the same way.

They stand there, staring at each other, and it’s like the moment is frozen, suspended somewhere in the space between heartbeats and spans of breath, and then Clara finally speaks again, this time in English.

“I -“ she starts then stops, shakes her head and blinks. She’s remembering a white-haired Doctor and a dark-haired girl, a TARDIS repair shop and a sky that looked like it was burning. They are her memories, and yet they are not.

“What I just said, it’s part of a phrase, isn’t it?” Clara asks. “There’s a second part to it, though,” she says, and then she frowns, her eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t know how I remember that.”

But she does, and the rest of the words dance through her mind, just out of her grasp.

“Can you remember anything else?” the Doctor asks her gently, quietly, like he’s almost too afraid to ask aloud, too afraid to hope.

She searches, casting about in her mind for words she might know, but it’s like wandering about in the dark, and she can’t find what she’s looking for. She remembers running, remembers the words I have to save him turning over and over again in her mind, like an unending symphony of her subconscious, but for the moment, that is all. There are no more lost words from Gallifrey.

“No,” Clara says, shaking her head. “That’s all I remember right now. I wish I knew the rest though, I think - ” her voice goes quiet, “I think those words were important to me - to whatever girl I was - in another life.”

In three long strides, the Doctor cuts through the holographic stars and across the console to her, folding her into his arms and lacing his fingers through her hair. She shuts her eyes, listening to the comforting melody of his twin heartbeats, constant and steady and calm.

Gently, he presses a kiss to the tender skin of her temple, and then she feels his lips moving against her hair as he whispers softly in Gallifreyan, finishing the phrase she started.

Clara doesn't know the words, but they sound soft and sweet, like a song, and she feels a twinge of happiness when she hears them, and a glow in her chest, like somewhere in her subconscious she recognizes them even if she doesn’t understand them.

“What’s that mean?” she asks.

“The width and breadth of the sky cannot compare to the infinite cosmos within us,” he says.

And she knows it’s true.

Another one for Friday Night Fights! The challenge hosted by @promptsforthestrugglingauthor . This one is a little weird, and admittedly was both inspired by me binging Girl Defined response videos, as well as my experiences at Church. It’s also written in second person, with the viewpoint character being a ‘nice church girl’. So, just a heads up.

Be a nice church girl. 

You wake up Sunday morning, early enough to watch the beautiful sunrise that God had painted across the sky. Cheerfully, you get out of bed. You didn’t even have to set an alarm clock, because getting up at dawn on Sunday is just a habit to you. Of course it doesn’t bother you at all. You plan out your entire week around the couple of hours you spend in Church. Obviously you’d have slept early the previous evening. It is for your Father in Heaven after all.

You brush your pearly white teeth, carefully scrubbing over each one. They were white and shiny teeth. Of course they had to be. In Church, you could only be seen smiling. And no other expression could really be sufficient there. Before God, you simply had to present your best self, and what better way is there to exist in? Happy, cheerful, a delight. You simply were overjoyed to be there.

Your hair and makeup done. Perfected. Just feminine enough to be perceived as a perfectly charming woman. But not too flamboyant to the point where you would stick out. You pick out your outfit next. A simple dress. Floral patterned. A matching baby pink cardigan. White ballet flats of a fairly modest design. Nothing too sparkly, nothing too flashy. Just something simple but feminine. After all, it’s not like you go to Church to draw attention to yourself. All of this is to simply honour God. This was what everyone in Church wore, because it was modest, but presentable. And most importantly, no one would stick out. No one would individuate.

From your dresser, you reach for a simple gold chain. Then a simple set of earrings. They were fake pearls, which did make you a little upset. Because you knew a number of the other girls in Church had real pearl earrings and you knew you couldn’t exactly afford them. You prayed that God would help you with your sin of envy. After all, at the very least you did have those fake pearl earrings. Cheap-looking and uncomfortable as they are. You sometimes wished that you didn’t need to wear them. But alas, the look simply wouldn’t be complete without it.

You subconsciously catch yourself chewing your nail, but once you caught yourself you stopped. It was a bad habit. You knew. And after all that work you put into painting your nails, taking care of them, you really wanted to keep them in good condition. Just like how every other woman in Church had nice nails. They all sported evenly painted, unchipped nails. Your hands still shook every time you painted them.

People commented on your nail biting. How it was unhygienic, unsanitary, gross. You knew they just wanted what was best for you. It wasn’t like they were unconcerned. And anyways, they did have a point, didn’t they? Nail polish smelled horrible, but you soldiered through it to apply it on anyways. Maybe someday, you’ll get good enough at nail polish, so that when you see your nails, you would not feel the need to chew them.

You eat breakfast, and when you do you don’t drink coffee. Who really needs sustenance like that? All you really needed in life was the energy which God provides you with. Every day, you can just sleep your planned eight hours, no problem. God provides you with the discipline to stick to your daily schedule. This was no problem. Nothing was impossible for God.

Hail a cab to Church. Quickly, you made it. Everyone there is smiling, dressed in their Sunday best. 

The men looked handsome and dashing in their suits and ties. The women looked beautiful and charming in their modest skirts and dresses. Everyone grins at you when you arrive. You talk about current events. Your families and your jobs; their children, nephews, nieces; sports; the weather; any gossip about other members of the congregation. All very engaging topics which you never used to be particularly interested in, but have found to be absolutely fascinating to talk about. The gossip especially, was a bad habit. But well, we all do fall short of the glory of God. He would surely forgive you.

You found it difficult to differentiate the people around you. You walked up to someone in an orange dress with shoulder length wavy hair, expecting it to be your friend Clara. Instead, it was Elizabeth. You walked up to a tall man with neatly gelled hair and a red tie, and you thought that he was Michael. But it was actually Joseph. It was a little embarrassing. But they were all good sports about it. That was something difficult you frequently had to deal with. Especially in Church. Navigating everyone, because for some odd reason you often had trouble differentiating the people around you. 

Well, some people were easier to differentiate than others. Case in point...

In the corner, reading a book with a smiling dragon on the cover, sat a young girl in a baggy hoodie and a pair of ragged jeans. Her earphones were firmly plugged into her ears. She was listening to music. No one was talking to her, and she didn’t seem particularly bothered by that.

You could only sigh when you saw her. She had been like that for a long time. There had probably been a time when she was a cheerful, sociable child. But now all she did was hang back and keep to herself, which would not do at all. God had commanded us all to be a friend. So you figured you really ought to go over and talk to her. You think you remember her name - Rebecca, if you’re not wrong - so you head over to her, a wide, pearly white grin on your face.

“Hi, Rebecca,” you say. Your voice chipper and loud enough so that she may hear you over her music. It worked to get her attention. She looked up from her book, and pulled out her headphones. You smile. That’s at least some progress. She’s paying attention to the world around her now. 

“Hi,” she said. She closes her book, but places a finger on the page where she left off. She shot you a fairly neutral expression. Neither a smile nor a frown could be seen on her face. Her lips were instead a perfectly straight line. Behind her glasses, her eyes just looked puzzled at why you were there.

You continued smiling. She smiled back, but only by slightly turning the corners of her mouth up. That was another step in the right direction! Smiling was good! Especially smiling in the house of God! Surely, no one had any real reason as to why that was supposed to be a bad thing. You slide beside her, sit next to her at the pew, and continue talking. “So, how have you been lately?”

“Okay,” she said. And then nothing else. Not a ‘how about you?’ or any other elaboration beyond that. That was upsetting. You remember a time back in your past when you were like that. But you soon learned the proper way to talk, hold a conversation. Thanks to all the people who taught you how to talk correctly. Soon, maybe Rebecca would catch on too.

You figured that, at least for now, maybe it would be a good idea to talk to Rebecca about something she was interested in. “What book are you reading?” You ask. It had a dragon on it, so it was probably a fantasy novel of some sort. Most likely a book she has owned for quite a while, since the spine was cracked and the pages were all dog-eared. 

You were never all that into fantasy. When you were younger, you very much preferred science fiction. And though you frequently found yourself yearning at the new science fiction books on display at the bookstore, you knew you shouldn't get too caught up in reading them. Years ago, you used to stay up late reading all those books. Way past midnight. You wouldn’t even crack open your Bible. But now, you’ve made a commitment towards going to bed on time and reading your Bible every day. And though admittedly, some parts of your personal Bible study made you bored, or made you conjure up some terrible questions (no doubt just Satan attempting to make you question your faith), you keep pushing on. Those science fiction novels may be alluring, but they surely aren’t nearly as great as the treasures which would await you in Heaven. 

Rebecca glanced at you, then showed you the back of the book. “It’s called ‘The Thief and The Knight’,” she said. Without any other comment.

You looked at the blurb at the back of the book, which read:

“What, no thank you? I went out of my way to help, you know, I didn’t have to.”

“You almost got me arrested!”

“But you didn’t, so there shouldn’t be a problem. Ungrateful!”

Tenia is a knight in training. Serious, clever, and an overall teacher’s pet, all the people in her life certainly had high hopes for her and her future. 

Kavlin is a mischievous young thief. With nothing but the clothes on his back and his trusty dragon, Gason, he lives every day barely getting by, stealing whatever he needs to live.

The two of them couldn’t have lived lives more different. But one day, when their paths met in a market, they soon found their fates entangled permanently. Now Tenia needs to make a choice. Follow her head and continue her knight training, or follow her heart and walk a new path with Kavlin? 

You sigh. This doesn’t sound like a particularly godly story. You recalled reading several similar stories like that when you were young, and it would always end with the obedient young woman leaving her neatly laid out life for some reckless, hedonistic man. That was definitely not how God intended for young women to live their lives. 

But maybe there’s a twist in this story. “Hm, that sounds interesting. Does she go back to studying hard to become a knight?” You ask. Smiling in as kind a way as you could. 

Rebecca shook her head, which was slightly disappointing for you. “She falls in love with him. They continue working together, she quits being a knight, and together they’re now thieves working to make the kingdom a much better, safer place for the poor.”

“But surely she could have done that while still being a knight? Without becoming a thief?” You ask. “The Bible says that we must use our gifts to help others in need. She could have done good for the poor using the gifts which made her such a promising knight, instead of going on to become a thief. There’s ways of helping others without disobeying the law.”

Rebecca looked at you, biting her lip. You hope that that’s a sign that she’s reconsidering reading something like that. God did say that we should be careful about what we read, and what we think about. If your words would convince her to stop reading something so immoral, that would only be a good thing. 

She took her book back, and held it close to her chest. You shot yet another smile at her, hoping that she understood that you were only concerned about her and the state of her spirit. Hopefully, she will get there soon. You remember how hard it had been to forgo your sci-fi novels. Even to this day, you still kind of miss them. But you could live without them. You could live only on the word of God alone, without any other book. That was something you had to remind yourself almost every day. But it was worth it. It had to be worth it, to be God’s faithful servant.

“At least consider it,” you say. “I’m only concerned for your spiritual well-being, and I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong ideas from the wrong places.” Rebecca still stared at you, her face still seemed fairly expressionless. But maybe, with some prayers, she’ll have her heart and mind changed.

You thought that you heard someone call you, and so you turned back around. “I’m sorry Rebecca,” you say. “I think I’m needed elsewhere now. So I’m going to have to go.” Such a shame. You were hoping to chat with her for a bit longer. Now what she’ll do is slip her headphones back on and bury her nose back into that book of hers. You should know. That was what you used to do back when you were her age.

You tried to recall. Why did you used to do that? Socialising with others in Church was such a pleasant thing. You loved to go every week, and listen to them talk about all the minor life updates that they have. Their new houses and cars. Their children winning participation trophies. Surely, those things were always far more interesting that any book one could bury their nose in. You try and think back, why did you like to read and hide away so much from the world. But you could not dwell on that question any further, because soon you ended up swept away by the crowd. Your train of thought halted. And you got sucked, like a whirlpool, into a sea of identical pearly white smiles and modest dresses.

I WILL KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP ;

Many young people dream of their WEDDING. They imagine the dress, the flowers and their lover standing at the ALTAR. When they close their eyes, they can almost smell the wedding CAKE and hear the cheesy LOVE songs. And all of their friends are there, smiling and praising all of the BEAUTY in the room – and all attention on the HAPPY COUPLE. What most don’t imagine is their wedding gown soaked in BLOOD. They don’t imagine the SCREAMS as their friends are cleaved in half. They don’t picture their Prince Charming with a MURDEROUS grin on their face. Unfortunately, life is LESS like a romantic COMEDY, and much more like the HORROR stories we all pretend to not be AFRAID of. HARPER’S ISLAND, located an hour from Seattle’s coast, is the destination for one of these happy unions. Family and friends from all across the country have gathered on one half of the happy couple’s BIRTHPLACE to take part in the ceremony. As a special treat, their family has paid for A WEEK of vacation on the local hotel for ALL GUESTS. What most of these ignorant guests don’t know is that TEN YEARS AGO, a SERIAL KILLER was on the loose. JOHN WAKEFIELD killed TEN PEOPLE before he was SHOT by the local sheriff – but it has been said that he will NOT be the LAST. Many LOCALS are uneasy with having this many strangers gathered on the island, all remembering the killings a little too well. When wedding guests are KILLED off ONE BY ONE, the locals and the newcomers must take a deep breath and admit that A NEW SERIAL KILLER might be walking among them. ( keep reading for more information !! )

SO YOU BETTER TRY AND KEEP AWAKE ;

THIS IS AN IC DISCORD SERVER. This blog serves only to organize those who have not yet been accepted.

THIS IS WAVE 2.

There will be a second arrival of muses, and POTENTIALLY, a new murderer. There is already a current murderer. New additions will be ‘late arrivals’ to the wedding week.

In this group verse, your character will either be a part of the wedding party (as family of the groom/bride or friend of the groom/bride) or one of the locals. As an added bonus, you may audition for the secret role of the new serial killer as well. The identity of the serial killer will only be known by the killer themselves and me, the admin of the group. Together, we will make decisions on which character to kill off next. Please note this means your muse may (and is likely to) die. I will always contact the next victim and ask them to post a drabble of their death. After their death, I will reveal the identity of the killer so that they can smugly follow the rest of the plot.

Events will be posted, and though they will not ‘officially’ be held, interactions based on them are highly encouraged. This could for example be a bonfire, a rehearsal dinner, a picnic, a bachelor/bachelorette party, etc. It is not a new day until I have made the announcement; this is because a lot of things can happen in one day when people are dying like flies, and to make sure everyone has had the chance to interact based on the latest event/twist/death. Characters are, of course, allowed to not follow the wedding events and go on their own adventures.

This server and plot are set up to encourage extensive pre-established relationships between characters. Histories are encouraged – exes, childhood friends, jealous lovers, old flames, sibling/family interactions are encouraged and are fairly necessary for this. All plotting may be done in server or privately, as long as the mod is kept updated about important interactions.

This server is all about SECRETS. IC secrets should be given and are encouraged. All secrets must be made known to the mod for plot use.

KEEP YOUR LEFT EYE OPEN ;

The RULES: i. Do NOT share any plot knowledge you may have. This includes the identity of the killer, who will die next, and any other potential twists. If you play the killer or if your character has been killed, I need to trust that you will not ruin the surprise. ii. No OOC drama or godmodding other players. IC drama is certainly encouraged, but if there is an issue between anyone, please take it up with them privately or approach a mod. iii. Both canon characters and OCs are welcome. As this is a discord server, faceclaims do not come into play. We will not be accepting duplicates of the same muse unless a twin or family au is worked out between the players. iv. Send your application and verse-related asks to this blog until you are accepted and provided with the discord server link. v. Stay updated and active! This server will likely move fast, and interaction is key. If you go inactive for too long, it’s likely your muse will become plot fodder and murdered, or simply removed from the server. I understand real life will always come first, please just try to keep up to date. vi. ALL players must be 18+, and their muses 21+. THIS IS NOT A SFW SERVER. We will not be writing explicit material, but it will be trigger-heavy and fairly uncensored. vii. Each player is allowed up to two (2) muses. This is encouraged, in the case that one is killed early, you are not simply sitting in the ether watching the fun happen !

AND YOUR RIGHT TOE TWITCHING ;

The APPLICATION form: Mun name & pronouns: Mun age (18+ only!): Role: Are they related to the bride/groom, are they friends, are they a local? Stereotype: What stereotypical (horror movie) label could fit them best? Secret: If they have any secrets from the rest of the locals/wedding party, now is the time to write them, or if there is anything the mod should know. If not, leave this space empty. This part of the application will not be shown to others. Brief Biography: Suggested length is about a paragraph. Tell us about who your character is. Please include name, age (muses must be 21+!), and pronouns in addition to brief backstory. Here is a SERIAL KILLER APPLICATION form: * everyone can apply as the serial killer; I will choose one. Motive: Why would they start killing guests (and locals)? Style: What would your character’s killing style be? Are they humane; do they keep trophies; do they like hearing the screams; what are their favorite weapons? Justification: How does your character justify killing people? Do they want entertainment; do they want to show how clever they are; do they think the victims had it coming?

CAUSE I’M IN THE KITCHEN ;

After application ACCEPTANCE: you will be sent the Discord server link. All future interactions, ic and ooc, will happen in-server.

WITH A KNIFE THAT’S ITCHING FOR YOUR RED BLOOD ;

A current list of MEMBERS:

Regina Scott / 37, she/her / The Wedding Planner / written by Thalia

Ianto Jones / 23, he/him / The Brother of the Bride / The DJ / written by Jacklynn

Ophelia Smith / 21, she/her / The Bride / written by Meg

Rory Williams / 23, he/him / The Groom / written by Gabe

John Smith / 60, he/him / The Wedding Guest / written by Charlie

Shelby Wyatt / 28, she/her / The Ranch Owner / The Local / written by Thalia DECEASED

Sam Mullin / 30, she/her / The Bartender / The Local / written by Tara

Bree Tinsley / 22, she/her / The Bridesmaid / written by Tara

Garcia Flynn / 48, he/him / The Cop / The Local / written by Harper

Zara Young / 28, she/her / The Personal Assistant / written by Jacklynn

Josh Lyman / 37, he/him / The Wedding Guest / written by Ellie

Spencer Reid / 29, he/him / The Cop / The Local / written by Ellie DECEASED

Mels Zucker / 23, she/her / The Local / written by Alex

Irene Larra / 45, she/her / The Wedding Guest / written by Alex

Ezekiel Jones / 27, he/him / The Wedding Guest / written by Harper DECEASED

Glenda Jones / 47, she/her / The Mother of the Bride / written by Charlie

Max Ward / 22, he/him / The Wedding Guest / written by C DECEASED

Jonathan Smith / 50, he/him / The Father of the Bride / written by Meg

Gabriel Waverly / 21, they/them / The Local / written by Gabe

Ronan Lynch / 21, he/him / The Local / The Dockworker / written by Ellie

Donna Moss / 30, she/her / The Wedding Guest / written by Callie

Clara Oswald Williams / 28, she/her / The Sister of the Groom / written by Thalia

Gwen Cooper / 23, she/her / The Wedding Guest / written by Thalia

An Oath to hope (Chapter 7)

Chapter 7: the Tortoise’s lesson

Vastra and Jenny walked down the street after a long day at work, holding each other by the hand. They stayed silent for most of the walk home, thoughtful but most importantly dreading about the situation they accepted inside their walls. Precious walls if Vastra had anything to say. Precious walls made from the couple’s hard work, a reputation that made her liked by the police force as they helped each other in different cases. A mutual respect that was appreciated a lot. And now she gave her resources, her work to a charming man who oozed of destructive vibes. It won’t go well and she knows it, who is openly willing to go against conspiracy who obviously is forcing people to hide themselves ? This guy apparently !

Vastra didn’t know what was the weirdest the fact he showed up in her office like a madman, sleeping, eating and hiring her like it was not suspicious. Or was it the fact that presented with the possibility to change identity, he took only thirty minutes to pull off a new identity and new backstory that he handed out like nice written rapport.

Oliver Gupta, comes from Ireland lived most of his life in Australia moved there with his parents when the work asked them to, stayed until coming back there two years ago. Worked for many newspapers under different pen names (he even pulled out a list of pen names if someone asked them as well as a number of place he is visiting usually like coffee shops and library). It was an exhaustive list and it was worrying. He let them as well his address but made them promise to never show up in there or around there unless there’s a life and death scenario. Hinting that getting the obscure entity there would help their case.

“If It happens that they are following you, there’s a chance they will either try to know what you know, kidnapping you in the process and you will never go back to your life that was before. If it is the case you give them my address. You give them where I live and tell them that I am the head of the operation. Work for your liberty. Sell me out.” He demanded with a serious tone

“How do you know that ? It does sound farfetched. ” Oswin asked perking up at the sounds of danger.

“I worked for them, long enough to have access to their inner working, long enough to know that they are not kidding.”  He answered looking to the brown haired woman, who was, weirdly, smiling at the answer. A predatory grin. Vastra knew it wasn’t good news too, seeing him smiling back.

Oh gosh there’s two of them.

Oswin was a short brown haired woman with perfect eyeliner and perfect fashion choice. Clever, always sporting some clothing with red lining as for signaling, like exotic fish, the danger she is looking for or represent, Vastra wasn’t sure what it was. Oswin was only a nickname, a childhood nickname as she explained when she had her first interview with Jenny, asking to only be called as such in the office to let go of Clara Oswald and her life. It was her only requirement when she was hired.

To be honest Vastra didn’t wanted to hire anyone perfectly content with her short team, she didn’t wanted to hire anyone especially not a young widow who seemed to know no end to her daredevil manners but the burnt lady owed one of her friend a favor. That’s how she ended up babysitting this bright and weird woman. She remembers telling him that her office has no therapeutic purpose but he looked at her, pleading to help. To just look out for her.

“Please, she- she needs her space” Her white-haired friend told her. “She needs to figures it out and I cannot help. As much as I want to. I can’t help. Please be kind, do it for her sake.”

“I don’t know her. I don’t care for her. You know this.”

“You do care because you are kind.” He said looking up searching something in her eyes. She held the stare a few moments before nodding.

“If she can’t hold her own weight, I am not taking her in. I do not want any idiot in my team.”

“Thank you.”

“I do not know why you are thanking me dear, I am not taking care of her.”

He still thanked her that day, she thought her jaw grinding a molar, if there’s indeed a mess due to those two teaming up she will show up to her friend house and break his electric guitar. No fuck given.

As they reached the porch of their home, Jenny broke the silence:

“My dear, you worry too much.”

“I am not, in no way, worrying.” She answered in a sharp tone, opening the door for her love.

“You are and you are angry because those people and the things happening are out of your control. You cannot help, nor protect them.”

“Darling-.”

Jenny threw away her coat and started to take away her boots. “You are afraid of the world my dear, always had, and now there’s people you like that might get caught in it.”

“I do not care about those idiots, love, I care about you and I care about Strax once on a full moon.”

“You remember when we received the companion program e-mail ?”

“I- Yes and we decided it was too shifty to accept it.” Vastra remember this day as if it was yesterday, she was still staying at home, doing some meaningless administrative work before receiving this mail. It was so full of legal clauses, the terms of agreement asked to watch over a common friend and all she could think was why ? Why him ? Who wanted to monitor someone so badly ?

After a prompt refusal, she tried to dig and found out who this Susan Foreman was, but nothing. No record, no trace, no one. It was a ghost.

She made an agreement sound. “I am pretty sure that you see as I am seeing the potential connection between an organization that hires people to monitor others and the weird Company our friend O is babbling about.”

Vastra stayed silent taking away slowly her gloves.

“We, at the time, let it go not from a lack of trying. But there’s now proof, that this surveillance thing might be wider that what we thought, a monitoring that target two of our friends, maybe more and yet.” Jenny bite her lips, thoughtful of an alternate scenario where they would have been more in control, finding nothing. “And yet, we are gonna let someone else run wild with this.”

“It might be our only way to understand what is happening.”

“Doesn’t mean we have to like it.”

“No it does not.”

“So what’s the plan then ? Do we warn Alexa and the professor or- ?”

“The plan, I guess is we find out about this O, Ajay or whatever he is called. Find what he knows and if he is trustworthy.”

“He did said to be affiliated with the company, as much as trust can go he gets none from me.” Jenny said in a casual manner.

“I agree, let’s hope we get to know more about this before some irreparable damages is done.”

The word damage made her think about her own scarred face and the burned arm that Jenny had. She thought of the destruction, of the smoke that filled her lungs. She thought of her, Jenny always so stubborn staying with her until the firefighters arrived. With that in mind she walked toward her lovely wife, a hand on her cheek, stroking it. “Promise me you will always be safe.”

“As long as you are my love.”

It wasn’t the answer Vastra wanted, but it was what love is.

The next morning in the office, it was confirmed that the usual quietness of the office disappeared. O invested the place, he was everywhere. Several notebook out, the heavy file he showed them before, spread unto several desk as well as Oswin’s. Who was here, earlier than usual, looking at the man slouching in front of his portable computer, on the floor like a university student who forgot to do their essay.

Oswin was smiling, clearly amused, looking over the file with barely veiled interest. Not looking up, he saluted the ones arriving.

“Hello to the both of you bosses.” Waving a hand. Only Jenny deigned to answer.

“Hello to you the double O ! How long have you been working dears ?”

“I just got there Jenny, enjoying the view on this fine morning.” Oswin said, a hand to her chin. The remark just made the man snickers softly before going back to the work he was doing. “I do not know what he is up to.”

Vastra squinted, looking to the state of the office and Oswin’s disheveled hair and the new man barely closed shirt.

“Oh no.” it is worse than what she expected. Before she could rage about the sanctity of the office and how dare they meddle love affairs into her work, Jenny intervened.

“Well I do wish the lot of you a good day at work.” Dragging Vastra by the arm who whispered swears under her breath.

Ok, I might need to clarify some events, because when the Paternoster darling couple left the office leaving Oswin and Oliver alone, some stuff happened and some stuff I do mean snogging… And some secrets shared. Long story short never let those two alone for 2 hours.

As soon as the original team left, Clara let little time for O to let his guard down, the presence of Vastra being overwhelming with inquisitive stare and silent questioning, O felt like he barely avoided the most of it, wasn’t able to shake away her suspicion but it is a long term work. Like he did before, be sneaky, be kind, be charming, maybe give them coffee in the morning.

Or act like the doe-eyed woman, who lazily played with her hair looking at him with intense interest. She didn’t cared in the slightest of what the other thought of her. She owned the place, or at least her desk, she owned her space, breathed in and out at her own rhythm. The paternoster gang worked in symbiosis, it was quite obvious in fact, they bounced off each other ideas, providing sight for the other’s blind spot. He is a little thankful for Jenny’s intervention earlier in the day, helping him settle with the best end of the deal, better than he could ever dream off. But Oswin. She wasn’t part of this machinery, she was a loose end and he didn’t know why Vastra let her be there.

“How long have you been there ? In the company I mean.” She ask looking at her nails feigning disregard.

He stayed silent for a while wondering if it was simple curiosity or something more, his useless paranoia and anxiety blaring. His stomach twisted to the thought, in her eyes there is a light of acknowledgement, of understanding. He cannot be sure if it was out of goodness or control. He didn’t knew, but he had to play along, he revealed so much didn’t he ? Too tired, he should sleep more it was a box on his mental to-do list, as well as the physical to-do list.

“I stayed uh- years, five at least if not more.”

“So you worked with the shady organization for years and didn’t thought to leave ?”

“It wasn’t shady at first I mean it was always shady but when I first worked here it was… Annoying ? Boring. Was the assistant of an assistant, so low in the payroll. Didn’t even knew why they hired me. And I didn’t know most of their work.” Getting up from his sitting position, moving his arm like he was in a presentation.

“Oh boy, that must have been dreadful, you, an assistant ! I wouldn’t bet you for one.”

“And what would you bet me for ?”

“A eager professor, the kind who would make people really interested in what he says and break the hearts of how so many poor students.”

“Oh !” He looked at her with a smirk.

“That’s our names.” she says doing the motion of finger guns. “So how did you from the low end of the payroll. Get the hold of this top secret mhm- project Theta ?”

He winced at the name, grinding his teeth. He thought he would be alright with it by now but no. The name felt like a sore thumb, the project it accompanied, the idea kept haunting him at night.

“I rose up the rank, broke some hearts in the way to do so," he managed to say with a wink. "but I managed to be there. And one day, a file fell onto my desk, someone caused a lot of trouble and they needed more help. This file was a collection of experiment reports, observations reports and names.”

“How many ?”

“Too many.” He sighed.

“So what did you do with that information ?”

“Learned as much as I can, committed to memory as much names and details. What you have here.” Motioning to the heavy file “Is all of my transcriptions out of memory.”

“Is it the only copy ?”

“No. I am not that stupid but it is a very valuable file.”

She look at him then the file with cloudy eyes, thoughtful. 8 out of 10 chances that lady is part of monitors, the young man thought. Better have your enemy closer, so he proposed.

“Do you want in ?”

“What ?”

“Do you want in ? The investigation I mean. It will be probably dangerous, you will lose some sleep. But damn is it worth it.”

She looked at him, bright smile.

“I mean If there’s bloody danger. I am into it.”

Risal’s families: Written by Risal, obviously. Response B: A foot in the door. An inch. A handhold. Often the hardest part of persuasion was finding one of those to start with. From there, a clever mind could make whatever fragments it held sway over fall into place. But it all depended entirely on that first blow. Get them to surrender once, and with the proper encouragement, they would do it again. And again. And again.  The servant who greeted her at this mansion’s front door for example. Kind, nervous young man. Not difficult to pry little scraps of information out of. There were handholds aplenty and the skinny waif of a boy was all too ready to surrender what he knew. Nobody had come to visit the residence in weeks, aside from an overburdened courier. He was one of the few members of staff who had kept their jobs since the end of the war. The lady of the house was not entertaining visitors at this time, but she was in fact home.  When it became clear that the Ren’dorei would not be satisfied until she was allowed inside, the boy tried to politely make his retreat. And then Risal really put her foot in the door.    It was not long after that Risal stood in the threshold of an impressive bedchamber’s entrance, the doors to the room splayed out to their fullest extent on either side. It had been a struggle to throw them open with a dramatic flair, the solid, heavy things. But the effect was worth it. Especially as the boy who greeted her, now red-faced from nipping at Risal’s heels as she moved freely about the manor, caught up. And also caught a glimpse within the bedchamber.  “Oh- oh gods, my lady, I am so sorry. The elf just-”  A hand rose. And that was all it took to silence the flustered man.  The Lady in question was presently seated at her desk. Even at rest there was something graceful about her, and it started in posture that was effortlessly perfect. And continued in her features. She did not possess the roundedness nor the freckles most born and bred Kul Tirans did. Instead, there were high cheekbones and a starkly defined jaw, a thin nose and similar lips. Her eyes were the most striking of all, grey as a polished blade and similarly sharp.  She did not flinch from Risal’s gaze. Even as the chill of the halls seeped into the room, and the human quickly found herself woefully under dressed in her nightgown. A hearth did little to stave off the growing chill of October in Kul Tiras that penetrated the rest of the building. But, at least the Lady of the house was better dressed than her companion. If only slightly.  Ah yes, her ‘companion’. A whore. From the breasts overflowing from a corset half unlaced to the bare, creamy expanse of her legs, back up to a face painted just exaggeratedly enough to tell the story of what the girl was. Her lengthy blonde locks were a certifiable mess- as were her lips. The cherry red lipstick smeared haphazardly about.  As though her appearance weren’t damning enough evidence, she had been draped over the Lady’s lap upon Risal’s arrival. Quite the thing to discover. And the Ren’dorei was nothing if not a cat with the canary between her paws.  “Make tracks. Both of you.”  At the Lady’s words, both whore and servant fled. As their footsteps faded down the halls, the Lady rose. Every movement made at a pace calculated enough to appear unhurried, but purposeful. When her eyes left Risal’s, she did so to look into her vanity’s mirror. Dabbing away at the lipstick smears that decorated her face until they were but a memory.  She did not speak again. And while it was a purposeful lack of manners on the human’s part, Risal couldn’t bring herself to care. It gave her an opportunity to reconsider the Lady.  Clara Whittles. The last of a minor noble house and sole proprietor of the Crimson Hoof. Before meeting the human in person, she was already something to be respected. Most nobility was entirely useless in a more practical sense, but Clara had done well for her family. A shrewd mind served the woman well in doubling the Whittle family’s holdings during the scant seven years she had been the head of her house. She had turned an average stock of Kul Tiran warhorses into a symbol of superiority. Truly, a shame that the war had been so unkind to her. It almost made Risal expect to find a weeping mess.  Evidently, Clara was made of stronger stuff.  “Bad timing?”  “Quite the contrary Miss Risal. I’ve been prepared for your visit for some days now.” The woman spoke as she stared into the flames that danced around the base of her hearth. Risal was given no more than the verbal acknowledgement, and a slight cant of Whittle’s head. As though the Lady were listening to the buzzing of an insect rather than a guest. “You need no introduction of person nor purpose. Speak your piece.”  “Very well.”Risal replied smooth as a heated blade to butter, not to be deterred so quickly. Nor easily. “I have not come to steal your land as I am sure is the expectation. My offer is joint ownership, everything split as fairly as is practically possible. The finer details are up for debate but I will pledge an injection of funds into the Crimson Hoof of a hundred thousand gold the moment the papers are signed. Not to mention a variety of-”  “Stop.”  There was an audible clack as Risal snapped her jaw shut. Okay then.    “If I wanted gold, I would have accepted one of the dozens of other offers that have been made in the past weeks. Don’t look so surprised, you are scarcely the only one who knows the value of my land. Nor are you the wealthiest.” Clara waved a hand at the disgruntled noise that came from her doorway. “Calm yourself, if I desired nothing from you, you would not be here.”  The Lady paused once more, leaving Risal time to realize her worth. And the fact that it depended entirely on Clara’s own interests.  “You are young for one of your kind, aren’t you? They say an elf’s ears always give their youth away, because the older they are the less they move. Until they still forever.”  “That is to say Miss Risal, this venture may be a pleasurable pursuit to you. A fanciful whim to entertain yourself and Felo’dorah until another war arrives. My family line dies with me, but the others? Generations of Fairworths and Galihans will come and go before you care to notice. And that what will be their birthright? To be neglected servants. Peasants to toil while you reap the rewards. Entertainment you surrendered when your attention was tempted elsewhere, because you’ve the luxury of time to waste.”  “I do not. In the coming years, I will either mould a legacy worthy of my family, or forever be the one who destroyed the Whittles name. With that said, I am of the belief that joining your little… fledgling empire is a wise step towards a satisfactory end. But you will own nothing of my lands, nor the Crimson Hoof.”  Clara held her tongue when she heard Risal step forward, finally crossing fully into the bed chamber. She still hadn’t turned to see it, but it was far from difficult to imagine the scowl on the Ren’dorei’s face. Especially when the woman spoke.     “Perish the thought that I insult you my lady, but these lands will be mine whether you make it an easy transaction or not. Sooner or later you’ll be unable to retain ownership, the expenses of running a place like this being as they are. At which point you’ll be forced to sell. If not to me, then to someone else whom I might find to be a more agreeable individual.”  And of course, Risal could not have been more wrong in her assumption. And, of course, Clara was all too prepared to explain why.   _____________________   “A fine, handsome stallion. Truly deserving of his name.”  Risal watched with quiet distaste as Clara showered Noble with affection. The Lady was not wrong, for the steed was indeed fine and the handsomest horse either woman had ever lain eyes upon. Even still, Risal wished he would be somewhat less than perfect for a moment. Nip at the human’s hand perhaps. Kick dirt up on her dress. Anything really, would suffice.  But Noble did no such thing. Because beneath all the rippling muscle, and years of training that had prepared him for war alongside a seasoned rider, the damned horse was sweeter than sugar. Every affection accepted with soft, appreciative huffs and a look from those surprisingly intelligent eyes.  There would be no apples for him later. Traitor horse. “I am glad you think so. Noble deserves to be appreciated by whomever cares for him, though I know you will far from disappoint, my Lady.”  Clara nodded her agreement. And for a time, that was the end of their conversation. There wasn’t much more to speak of given that their matters of business had been settled, and now, Clara had met Noble. It gave Risal a much needed moment to breathe and admire the lands of the Crimson Hoof. The acres upon acres of fenced off fields. A hedge maze not terribly far from the manor. A private pond just large enough to warrant the little dock and row boat that rested over it’s otherwise pristine surface. Picturesque.  That however, was not what caught Risal’s eye.  It was clearly an abandoned structure. Smaller than the main manor, but not by much. A tad overgrown from neglect and poor ageing but imposing all the same. A tidy sum of gold and the input of a stylish eye would turn the derelict thing into an abode to be proud of. And it just so happened Risal recently found herself in need of a new home. Even if it was essentially right next to Clara Whittle’s manor.  “Lady Whittles. I don’t suppose you have any particular use for that building, have you?”

Review: The Nutcracker and the Four Realms [Spoilers]

Hey, everyone! So today I decided to go see Disney’s newest release, The Nutcracker and the Four Realms!

Some of you may recall that I’m a rather big fan of the original ballet and was quite disappointed about how little the trailers and promotional materials for this film resembled that very ballet, so I went in with my expectations ridiculously low. Because of this, I was able to see some good in the film, which I’ll go into under the cut, but for those of you who wish to avoid spoilers, I must be frank that The Nucracker and the Four Realms is a mixed bag at best. Those who love the original ballet and book will likely hate how little the movie respects its characters and story, and those who don’t love the ballet and book might find it to be a rather standard action-adventure fantasy film for kids with few elements that weren’t done better in other movies. It’s not as god-awful as The Nutcracker: The Untold Story was or anything: there were good ideas here and there...but overall, I’m afraid I can’t recommend The Nutcracker and the Four Realms to anyone.

For those of you who don’t fear spoilers...a cut!

The Good!

+For the most part, the first fifteen minutes of this movie (taking place in London) felt the way a Nutcracker film adaptation should. There were nice Christmas colors, sparkling holiday decor, and an elegant party full of swirling gowns and happy children. Admittedly I probably would’ve preferred it if the story had taken place in Russia (like the ballet) or Germany (like the book), or even a vaguely European-ish setting without naming a specific city, but hey, can’t win ‘em all.

+All of the actors chosen I thought were pretty good choices. Morgan Freeman made a great Drosselmeyer (though I wish he’d had more of a role in the story), Helen Mirren and Keira Knightley are always good talent (though I’ll come back to problems I have with their characters later), and even the actor they chose for the Nutcracker, Jayden Fowora-Knight, was good enough that I wouldn’t mind seeing him in something else. But for me, the actor I loved seeing the most was Matthew Macfadyen as Clara’s father, who was easily one of the best parts of the movie. This could also be considered a bad thing, as he’s criminally underused, but it doesn’t change how nice it was to see him. (I can only hope that Keira and Matthew were happy to see each other on set again, even if they had no scenes together -- garg.)

+The music was pretty well-handled. James Newton Howard did a good job of not just running all of the usual tunes into the ground -- he gave us a nice haunting remix of the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy during an eerie scene in the Fourth Realm, used the Battle track excellently during a confrontation with the mice, and arranged the Overture perfectly in the opening panning shot (which admittedly looked too CG for my taste, but still communicated the location and mood well).

+Misty Copeland’s ballet performances were excellent. She truly was a joy to watch every second she was on screen.

+The costumes for the most part were well done, as were a lot of the visuals. I have some issues with them that I’ll come back to, but honestly, the majority of them worked well for the characterizations and mood the film was going for.

+Directly connecting Clara to the magical world she enters is, in principle, not a bad idea, nor is the idea of her arrival in that world being more than just a fun finale. A battle in a magical realm will always be more interesting than one done in your living room. I also like the idea that Clara’s facing her real-world problems through her fantasy and that she’s more active in the story...I just would have written those ideas very, very differently.

The Not-So-Good...

+The script. And I mean absolutely everything about it. There is so much wrong with this script and the concept behind it that I will have to make separate bullet points in order to go through all of the problems I had with it:

The characters are beyond underdeveloped. Although I think Helen Mirren, Keira Knightley, and Jayden Fowora-Knight were good casting choices, they honestly had very little to work with. Mother Ginger was supposed to be a villainous sort, but from the very beginning, she never came across that way, despite the script’s and the actors’ best efforts -- hell, in a flashback we see that Clara’s mother actually sort of resembled Ginger! That sure isn’t a hint to who’s really trustworthy or anything. The same can be said for Sugarplum -- honestly, did anyone really not guess that she was the fake-out villain all along, especially after how long Disney has been beating that particular dead horse of a trope? As for our “Nutcracker” Phillip, he really has little autonomy in the story given that he basically follows Clara’s orders as a princess and then, mid-way through the story, we’re supposed to believe that he’s now following her out of real devotion and caring, even though their relationship isn’t given the time and scenes needed to show their growing bond. Drosselmeyer as I said was barely around: we learn that he basically raised Clara’s mother, which you would think means he had a role to play in the Four Realms, but nope! He doesn’t appear anywhere until the end except through his owl familiar that...does absolutely nothing during the entire story. I barely remember any of the side characters in the Four Realms, and I just finished watching this movie about an hour ago. Despite being some kind of a mechanical genius, Clara is amazingly bland. She says she doesn’t know who she is or what her place is, and yet Phillip goes on about how confident she is and basically everyone around Clara showers her with praise. She’s smart enough to teach the great inventor Drosselmeyer himself how to fix something and also tough enough to kick a tin soldier in the face during the climax...but that, in the process, kind of makes her boring and one-note. I never feel like Clara is in any danger or puts herself at any great risk because we never see her in a situation she can’t handle. Even when she’s “trapped” by Sugarplum, it’s at the top of a tower decorated with a chandelier and windows she can easily get out of, so she just jerry-rigs herself and her fellow prisoners a way down after a pointless touch of moping. (I mean seriously, you couldn’t lock her in a dungeon?? With LOCKED DOORS AND WINDOWS??)  And really, hasn’t this archetype Clara’s fulfilling been done to death already? Rather than have her be yet another “girl ahead of her time” (one basically just like her mother, which doesn’t exactly make her special, then), why not have her be nothing like her mother? If Clara had been more like her sister Louise and yet expected by everyone around her to be like her mother, wouldn’t it have made her realizing she has everything she needs inside of herself mean that much more? Wouldn’t it have shown her the value of her own worth if she’d failed to live up to everyone’s expectations at first, rather than her be heralded as “truly being her mother’s daughter” and clearly being so from the beginning?

The Four Realms itself doesn’t really make that much sense. Not only does it resemble Narnia (snowy magical forest that you enter through a magical doorway, time moving differently than in our world, lost human ruler returning to ascend to the throne) and Oz (being split into four parts and, like Oz the Great and Powerful, a ruler of one of those lands being painted wrongly as the villain by another who actually wants to take over everything) a little too much for my liking, but I can’t even figure out its rules. For one, the film can’t seem to decide whether Clara’s mother Marie (nice nod to the original book, actually) created the land or discovered it. In all of the summaries I’ve read, it says that Marie created the Four Realms, and her identity as an inventor would seem to justify this, but in the dialogue, Sugarplum says she discovered each land, and brought its citizens to life through her engine invention thing. Yet if they’re all dolls brought to life and made large by the engine, why are they all doll-sized when they go through the clock to peek in on Drosselmeyer’s party? And how much of that world is actually based on our real world? The film at some points tries to make connections to Clara and her mother’s real life by having Clara and Fritz try to catch a mouse in their attic, depicting a Nutcracker ornament in a flashback, and showing Fritz receive a Nutcracker that resembles Phillip for Christmas, but the film drops the ball in having any of those touches actually mean anything. There are ways you can weave the real world into your fantasy land in a meaningful way -- the film could have had Marie taking inspiration from her real life when she made this make-believe world or even represented Clara’s inner turmoil by making the Four Realms completely make-believe, but instead it just comes across as muddled and odd.

Speaking of Clara’s mother Marie, I really don’t like the fact that I have to insult a dead woman, but...screw this woman! She makes this entire world and then, as her dying wish, tells her adopted father to only have her middle child discover it by leaving the key to her music box there? What, did Louise not deserve to be a princess too? Did Fritz not deserve to be a prince? Your husband, who called you the LOVE OF HIS LIFE, doesn’t deserve to know? Oh, but they’re not like Clara -- they’re not clever and special and different like you and Clara. That’s why you told Drosselmeyer that Clara was your greatest invention, because clearly your other two non-main-character children don’t count. Bite me.

The story crafted doesn’t fit the constraints that a Nutcracker tale must operate inside -- namely, the film sets up the fact that this family is mourning the loss of their matriarch, and yet the entire story focuses solely around Clara. Yes, the original Nutcracker tale is supposed to be about Clara, the Nutcracker, and the Mouse King...but by adding the mother’s death and the arc revolving around Clara and her family coming to grips with it, the story’s basically torn between what it should be about versus what it is about. This family is broken and must be fixed: Clara going into another world that has no connection to anyone but her dead mother to “find herself” isn’t going to fix that. Therefore the central conflict and the driving plot have no connection. The film either needed to take out the family part of the plot or have the entire family discover this world together and connect through their adventures in it in order for this choice to make sense.

On the note of focus, “The Nutcracker and the Four Realms” is a misleading title. A better title would be “Clara, Sugarplum, and Their Dead Mother,” because that’s all that gets any real attention here. Phillip, rather than being a prince cursed into the form of a Nutcracker, is a toy brought to life that serves Clara (the real princess) and has no animosity for mice excluding what has been indoctrinated into him by Sugarplum. He even BEFRIENDS the Mouse King at the end. Yes -- THE NUTCRACKER BEFRIENDS THE MOUSE KING. ARE YOU F**KING KIDDING ME --?  As for the Mouse King, oh ho ho....wait until you hear this. The Mouse King is not a monstrous, fearsome creature locked in battle with his foe, the Nutcracker: instead he’s just an ordinary mouse that fuses together with his subjects into this monstrous giant mouse shape. But they’re not really the bad guys -- no, they’re underlings of Mother Ginger, who’s a good guy. So the Nutcracker plays second-fiddle to Clara, and the Mouse King plays second fiddle to Mother Ginger. TWO OF THE MAIN CHARACTERS OF THE STORY ARE REDUCED TO GROUNDLINGS OVER HERE.

Sugarplum’s motivation doesn’t really make sense. She claims she’s taking over because Clara’s mother Marie left them and that hurt her, but...how do you go from feeling betrayed by your mother figure to “taking over the world”? Is it because the world is one your mother created and you want to destroy it because it reminds you of her -- wait, no, Marie didn’t create it, though, she discovered it, and you only really seem interested in going after Mother Ginger with any great passion rather than any of the other Regents...okay, is it that you were hurt by your mother figure and so you want to create an army so strong no one could ever hurt you again -- wait, but everyone seems to like and trust you, so there’d be no reason for you to fear that and it’s not like you built up that lack of trust earlier...okay, is it that your mother figure chose her real family over her make-believe family and so you want to get back at the family she chose over you -- wait, no, you locked Clara up but you’ve barely even tried to take any vengeance out on her and you looked almost horrified when Clara outsmarted you... Yeah, what I’m trying to get across is that Sugarplum as a villain really doesn’t jive.

Because of the lack of character development and the many disparate plot elements fighting for your attention, no relationship in this movie comes across as particularly heart-felt or genuine. We get almost no build-up for Clara and her father’s disagreement before they part ways (and that confrontation has very little fall-out, so it feels hollow); Sugarplum’s affection for Clara seems so cloying and she is so obviously the villain that it makes it difficult for the audience to see any kind of bond forming (honestly, wouldn’t a kind of buried-deep resentment been more interesting, given that Sugarplum knows all about Clara but Clara knows nothing about her?); and there are so few moments building up Clara and Phillip as equals and friends that the scene where Phillip encourages Clara to stay by saying he didn’t follow her because she’s the princess basically comes out of left field. Even the relationship between Clara and her mother, which is so central to the movie, doesn’t ring true for me because they are so similar. Everyone remarks on how much Clara is like her mother, but that means that there’s no interesting interactions between them. Clara is just a Marie 2.0, rather than her own person, and Marie’s advice to Clara almost seems obvious: if Clara’s so much like the mother she admired, there’d be no reason for her to be as self-doubting as she is. If the film even just tried to show how much Clara still has to learn at some point, that relationship would’ve been that bit stronger, because it would mean that Marie saw something in Clara that no one else did, not even herself.

+Moving on, even though the ballet routines were pretty, they came out of nowhere. Rather than integrate dance seamlessly into the plot by having Clara be interested in ballet or something, the sequences only served to be fluff pieces plopped down into the middle of scenes that don’t connect to anything else going on. It just felt like the filmmakers were trying to remind you that “oh yeah, this is based on the Nutcracker -- I know it doesn’t resemble the Nutcracker in plot at all, but it’s definitely based on the Nutcracker!! 8D”

+The editing at points in this was really choppy and messy. There were quite a few tracking shots that got way up into the actor’s personal bubble, even in scenes that weren’t supposed to be uncomfortable or weird. For example, there’s a moment when Louise, wearing her mother’s old dress, comes to check in on Clara and their father -- the camera keeps the reveal of what she looks like a surprise until after showing the father’s awed reaction for a long moment, but because we the audience have never seen this dress or even a picture of the mother wearing it, we feel nothing when the dress is finally revealed. There’s no emotional gut-punch that would’ve been there if we saw a familiar dress on someone else, so the editing choice seems pointless.

+Even though most of the costumes were pretty, the hair and make-up choices were sometimes bizarre, even for characters that were supposed to be pretty. When Sugarplum does Clara’s hair up all princess-y, it’s supposed to glamorous, but it just looks ridiculous. I also wish that the Regents for the Flower and Snowflake Kingdoms had looked a little less cartoonish -- did we have to have the Snowflake guy have icicle bangs messily dribbling into his eyes? Admittedly both him and the Flower Regent were pretty useless, but their silly designs didn’t exactly make them more appealing. There were also two unfunny “comic relief soldiers” with their hair drawn badly onto their heads, and I don’t know, it just wasn’t a particularly appealing look for characters we theoretically are supposed to like watching. Louise also has a rather odd hairstyle in her first appearances that doesn’t communicate her supposedly feminine and mature character, which is supposed to be a contrast to Clara, but still likable -- instead it makes her look over-the-top and silly.

+Even though many of the visuals were nice enough to look at, there wasn’t much that I haven’t seen before. If you edited footage of the Four Realms alongside Wonderland from Alice Through the Looking Glass and Oz from Oz the Great and Powerful, I think you’d be hard-pressed to tell where one starts and another begins at points. The Christmasy colors you see in the “real world” really should have been dialed up for the fantasy sequences, but instead, there’s not much of a shift excluding seeing people with pink cotton candy and flowery vines for hair. Many of these supposedly doll characters don’t even . resemble toys with hinges or knobs or anything: they basically look like oddly dressed humans. Even a color palette shift would have been helpful in separating the two worlds -- for instance, having a more white/brown/yellow color scheme with pops of red and green for the real world and more of a pink/purple/blue/white color scheme for the Four Realms might have made each one more visually distinctive. It also would have made Clara pop out more if she’d been dressed in a more “ordinary” color scheme (like a pale yellow) that made her stand apart from the most fantastical backgrounds (perhaps touched with a cool lavender or light blue).

At one point I tried to pretend that this film wasn’t an adaptation of The Nutcracker. I asked myself, “if this wasn’t based on the famous ballet you love so much, would you like it? Could it stand apart as its own thing?” And unfortunately, the answer I kept coming back to was, “...It can’t be its own thing, because it’s taken too many ideas from other sources that did them much better.”

A young girl discovering a magical world while wandering around a strange house? The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

A whimsical land of fantastical creatures that can only be saved by a special child? The Neverending Story.

A coming-of-age story where a girl navigates a world of fantasy and adventure to find herself? Labyrinth.

A world of magic and science where good and evil are not what they seem and an ordinary girl can be the princess of a lost kingdom? Castle in the Sky.

And honestly, if all I can think of when looking back on the movie I just saw are the ballet it took its title from and other better movies...what does that say about The Nutcracker and the Four Realms? It breaks my heart, as I so wanted Disney to adapt this classic story, but I wanted a full-length animated musical -- something in the vein of Disney’s Sleeping Beauty -- where any changes made to the plot and characters enhanced the story as opposed to distracted from it. Maybe someday, way down the road, Disney will realize their mistake and do The Nutcracker the right way...whether they do or don’t, though, I’m afraid this Nutcracker movie is doomed to fade from public consciousness, and even though there clearly was hard work put into it, thanks to the overall vision and script, the finished product is so forgettable that I can’t say it deserves better.

Overall Grade: D

Our last winter, 25/31

► Our last winter - Human!Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler. ► Written for @doctorroseprompts 31 days of ficmas. Day 25: Carolling. ► AU Verse, Teen. ► 1,563 words. ► A/N: This is a prequelle to Ghost of you.

“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is time for home.” - Edith Sitwell.

The days following the eclipse were complete madness. No one had ever seen that. Not in this century. Shortly after, the hospitals from all Europe were flocked with people presenting the same symptoms: black eyes, pale face, exposed venules, intolerance to every kind of light. The cause was clear for everyone: all those people had been exposed to the eclipse and the lack of light had disturbed their system. They just had to wait a couple days for them to disappear. The analysis that were done on them were showing nothing really serious about those symptoms but it was scary to see those perfectly normal people wandering in the streets at night because they couldn’t do it on day. A joke had been made about them acting like vampires but it had been funny only for a small moment. Christmas was coming and those people were losing themselves.

As scientists, Maxence and Rose were very curious about the consequences of this eclipse. Harvey wasn’t making them work on it yet. Apart from the astronomy section who was still studying the events of the 21th, every other section was back to their current works. It was hard to focus when Christmas was coming. The streets were full of those improvised singers with Christmas jumpers and ants on their heads pretending to spread the Christmas spirit with carols. Maxence hated this, the carols singers and their ways to bother people by knocking on their doors. If you opened, you had to stay there and listen to them and pretend that you’re amazed by this all. He wasn’t. He really wasn’t. That was why he never opened the door and pretended to be absent if he saw them through the peephole.

Today, he had finished work sooner than Rose and had come home to make plans for his engineering project and gather the necessary tools to start working. He was so focused on this that when the doorbell rang, he jumped and cut his finger on the model he was building. He swore and sucked on the blood. He left his home office and walked to the door. He totally forgot to look through the spyhole and opened the door, frustrating. He groaned and rolled his eyes when he saw a group of carols singers before him. Someone had let them inside the building. He closed the door when they started singing. He had been interrupted for this? This was making him angry, really angry. It didn’t get any better as one of the neighbours kept letting those groups come in. Furious to always be bothered, he grabbed a permanent red marker pen and made a sign.

When Rose came home that evening and the sign, she decided that she was going to mock him. She took the sign off and came in the flat. She hung her coat and hat and got rid of her shoes. The place was quiet. Maxence probably was in his office as usual. She threw the sign on the kitchen table and headed to the hidden spot of her husband. She observed him while he was working. This model he was building looked good so far but there had been some damages to his fingers according to the band-aids he had around the tips of his fingers. She stood there without a word. He was being so focused on his work that he hadn’t seen or heard her yet. It meant she could prank him more easily. She silently rushed to their room and pulled on her Christmas jumper before coming back to his office. She leant close to his ear and started singing.

  “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way.”

  Maxence jumped and let go of his screwdriver that rolled under the desk. He groaned again and turned around absolutely furious about being bothered again. Was the sign not good enough? Had they not any respect for someone’s privacy?

  “Who the hell let you in?”

  He felt stupid when he realised that it was his wife who had come home finally. His wife who was particularly happy with the reaction he had had because of her prank. She was looking at him with that bright smile on her face. She was so proud of this. He glared at her.

  “You’ve seen the sign, right?”

“I’ve seen it. Quite clear.”

“Not for everyone obviously,” he mumbled.

  He hated when she was mocking him that way. They all had their OCD and pet peeves and carols singers were one of his. Why was she finding it strange that he didn’t like them? It was people coming to your home to sing songs you already knew by heart and bothering you whatever you were doing. It was rather rude.

  “Oh, come on. You love the Christmas spirit and you love playing Santa Claus but you don’t like Christmas songs, that’s pretty paradoxical to me.”

“It’s not that I don’t like Christmas songs, it’s just that I hate people coming to bother me in my home to sing me those songs. That might a source of marvelment for many but not for me. I like being in peace at home.”

“To work on your new engineering project?”

  She was often doing that, changing the subject that was infuriating him to change his mood. He always noticed it but never said anything about this habit of hers. He was doing it too sometimes. He was glad that Rose was doing this now though. He would love speaking about his new project.

  “Look at this. My now prototype.”

“What’s supposed to be?”

“A new type of remote-controlled car. I’ve had that idea when I was driving this sleigh.”

“How does it work?”

  She was looking at all the papers and drawings scattered around him. These were drafts for his projects and he was trying to find the best way to make this not so new invention look revolutionary. People were working on cars that could drive themselves with a good programming. The first one that would manage to do that would be a quite a genius. Maxence had gathered all those researches for this project.

  “After how many doctorates will you stop?”

“I like learning new things.”

“Molecular biology, cell biology, genetics and now, engineering?”

“You’ve forgotten my doctorate in foreign languages and civilisations.”

“You’ve got four doctorates and you want one more?”

“Why not?”

  Indeed. Why not? With the intelligence he had, he could study almost anything and have any doctorates. He wasn’t doing this for the certifications. He was doing this for all the knowledge. He loved learning new stuff. That was why he was still studying when everyone was stopping them when they had what they wanted.

  “You could be a teacher one day.”

“I don’t know. I like the ‘scientist on the field’ status. I’m not much of a teacher me. Don’t have that patience.”

“You had it with Clara.”

“It was different.”

“And Liv.”

“And you.”

“Yes. If you’ve been able to teach the three of us, you can teach anyone.”

“Are you considering yourself and your friends as stupid?”

“I never said that.”

“It didn’t sound like very positive though.”

“I was trying to point out your extraordinary teaching skills.”

“Do you think I should have a doctorate in teaching?”

“You could be a lecturer.”

  Maxence smiled. Him, a lecturer. It would be funny to watch. He was always making digressions and losing himself in them and in the end, your lesson didn’t look like one. He didn’t have the teaching streak, nor the patience. He was already giving some interviews when he was asked to and it was a real pain for him and for the journalists who were coming for him.

  “Have you seen me during an interview?”

“You’re a mess.”

“Yes.”

“You’re so clever because your brain is working faster than the normal people. They can’t follow you.”

  He was gonna answer but he was stopped before he could. There were more of these singers outside the building. He ran to the bathroom and filled a bucket. He opened the kitchen window that was giving on the street below and threw it on the new group singing out of tune down the building. Those ones weren’t gonna come in. He had had enough for the day.

  “Max!” screamed Rose, outraged.

  He slammed the window close and put the bucket away. The singers were protesting and insulting the ‘son of a bitch’ that was daring throwing them a bucket full of cold water. If they ever found out who it was, they were gonna beat him down until he begged for mercy. And then, they wouldn’t stop. They would make him go through the hell.

  “What? Those ones were drunk or high. You would want them in the building? Our security is more important than stupid Christmas songs.”

“You really don’t like them, don’t you?”

“The only version I like is the one where you sing.”

“That can be possible.”

  They smiled at each other. The deal was made. Maxence gave up on working for today and headed for a shower while Rose was checking the leftovers to cook a dinner. It was amazing how she could do a real meal with almost nothing. When he came back to her, she was singing the traditional Christmas tunes and he couldn’t help but sing along with her…

Our last winter © | 2018 | Tous droits réservés.

×××

Buy me a coffee?

Hell Bent - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

As I was going through Series 9, I’ve been getting messages from @kaidans-getting-bi, @prettycanarynoir and @thealmightytwittytwat telling me how much they were looking forward to my review of the series finale. Reading between the lines, I could detect an almost masochistic glee to their messages. Like I was being sent to tame a rabid rottweiler and they were assuring me it doesn’t bite whilst stifling sadistic giggles.

Oh yeah. Did I mention Hell Bent was shit? Because it is. It’s very shit. Not that that should come as much of a surprise. Has Moffat ever written a series finale that wasn’t shit? It’s the sheer amount of shit I’m staggered by. How can one man fuck up so much? This is beyond incompetence. I honestly can’t believe anyone could write something this bad by accident. Even Tommy Wiseau’s The Room had some entertainment value. This is just nauseating to say the very fucking least.

So we’re back on Gallifrey... Oh. No we’re not. We’re in America now. One minute in and already we’ve hit Moffat Cliche No. 1. Random change of location or time period for no reason other than to wrong-foot the audience. This is quickly followed by Moffat Cliche No. 2. The ‘clever’ reversal that ends up stripping the emotion and/or tension from previous stories completely. The Doctor arrives at an American diner, and guess who’s behind the counter.

FUCKING CALLED IT!

I knew Clara wasn’t dead, and frankly I’m astounded nobody else saw this coming considering how often Moffat pulls this fucking trick. Like I said before, i’d have been more surprised if Clara had stayed dead by the end.

So back to Gallifrey. I imagine this must have been quite exciting for New Who fans who had never seen the classic series. A proper in-depth look at the Doctor’s homeworld. And yeah, it’s nice to see the Cloisters and the Matrix again, as well as the power the Time Lords have over time, but it doesn’t really bring anything new to the table. In fact, to be perfectly honest with you, I don’t understand what the point of any of this is. Gallifrey, the Hybrid, Ashildr, it all basically comes to nothing in the end. But now I’m getting ahead of myself.

So the Doctor is back and the Time Lords roll out the red carpet... in the form of Rassilon and a firing squad. Now let’s quickly remind ourselves of who the Time Lords are, shall we? Archaic, superstitious stick in the muds they may be, but they’re also insanely powerful, and Rassilon is the most powerful of them all. He’s the founder of Time Lord society. He’s so powerful that he has several artefacts and even an entire tournament named after him. So how in God’s name did the Doctor manage to walk all over them? Through no effort whatsoever, the Doctor manages to banish Rassilon and the entire High Council? Rassilon! Reduced to an impotent, powerless old man! How did the Doctor manage this? Because the script said so. That’s basically what it boils down to. I’m not saying Rassilon and the Time Lords don’t deserve it, but there’s simply no threat or tension here. The Doctor, the renegade, the outsider, just banishes them with little to no effort. Good old Moffat Cliche No 3. The main protagonist is the most important, specialist and bestest guy ever who is just awesome at everything, regardless of logic and sense.

Then it’s time to talk about this stupid Hybrid that’s been teased throughout this poxy series. The Doctor asks the General why they didn’t just ask him about the Hybrid in the first place. A very good question, and Moffat chooses not to answer it because that would reveal just how fucking pointless Heaven Sent really was. Also, brief side note, why did Rassilon try to kill the Doctor when they still need him to confess what the Hybrid is?

This whole Hybrid thing has got to be, hands down, the worst series arc in the whole of New Who. I’ve never seen a more poorly mishandled arc. So the Matrix told the Doctor about the Hybrid when he was a little boy. Not only are we back in Listen territory with Moffat stomping carelessly through dangerous waters and potentially revealing too much information about the Doctor’s origins, it also doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense. If the Doctor has known about the Hybrid all this time, why is it only now that the Time Lords are worried about it? And how did they even find about it if the Matrix only told the Doctor? In fact why did the Matrix tell the Doctor at all?

So what is the Hybrid? It’s not half Time Lord/half Dalek (why did the Time Lords even assume that in the first place? Two warrior races? That could be fucking anything). Ashildr isn’t the Hybrid. Her only purpose it seems is to be a red herring. (So much for that narrative thread. She didn’t even get a proper conclusion or anything). The Doctor being half Time Lord/half human is very rapidly rejected (to which I breathed a sigh of relief so massive I may have caused a spike in the Earth’s carbon dioxide emissions). Turns out the Hybrid is... the Doctor and Clara?

Well it looks like we can add the word ‘hybrid’ to the ever-growing list of words that Moffat clearly doesn’t understand the definition of. Along with ‘psychopath’, ‘egomaniac’ and ‘diminishing returns.’ How are the Doctor and Clara like a hybrid? That’s just such an unnatural way to describe a relationship between two people. Moffat clearly thinks this is all clever-clever, but really it’s just painfully forced. Not to mention inconsequential. The Hybrid is destined to destroy the universe. The Doctor extracting Clara from her timeline could do that, but we never actually get to see the repercussions for this. Then the Doctor bizarrely suggests that erasing one of their memories would make everything okay, but how? If Clara’s mere existence puts time and space in danger, how does erasing her or his memory change that?

Oh but it gets so much worse.

Heaven Sent was trying to push the idea that the Doctor is utterly lost and ineffectual without Clara (an idea I utterly detest and protest to most strongly). Hell Bent takes it one step further, implying that the Doctor relies on Clara entirely in order to make moral choices. The most notable example is when, after the Doctor rescues Clara, he shoots the General in order to escape. Yes the General doesn’t die, because he/she/they are a Time Lord, but I was pretty appalled by how blasé the Doctor was about it. He tries to downplay it, saying dying is the equivalent of man flu for a Time Lord, but the fact is the Doctor has just taken a chunk of the General’s lifespan for literally no reason as far as I can see. This is scarcely trivial. Moffat is clearly trying to demonstrate how dangerous the Doctor is without Clara’s influence, but to do so he’s twisting the character into unnatural shapes and insulting the audience in the process. Can you imagine the Doctor going to such extreme lengths for any other companion? Fuck no!

Clara has already been established to be the most important companion ever thanks to the god awful Name Of The Doctor, saving the Doctor’s life throughout his long history (Moffat Cliche No 4. The sassy dominatrix who acts strong and independent, but really is only there to prop up the male hero). Now Moffat has taken another insulting step by implying that the Doctor needs Clara to be a decent, functioning person. How much more fucking arrogant can Moffat possibly get? It’s bad enough that throughout Peter Capaldi’s tenure, Twelve has been portrayed as completely ineffectual without his precious Mary Sue around to fucking babysit him, but this just takes the biscuit. How DARE you suggest to me that the Doctor needs Clara for his most important qualities. How DARE you suggest to me that the Doctor is a violent, unprincipled killer without Clara. How fucking disrespectful is that to this character’s legacy, to put your own special creation above and beyond him and say he gets all his defining characteristics from her in order for the showrunner to massage his own humungous fucking ego. Clara even gets her own fucking TARDIS at the end! So much for questioning whether her becoming like the Doctor is a bad thing or not (not that the series was ever really concerned about that. Like I said before, Clara’s arc was never really about Clara). As that American diner flew off into the sky, two words escaped my lips:

Good riddance.

Series 9 was... fucking atrocious. With the exception of Face The Raven, none of these episodes are remotely good. The Doctor is once again placed under a microscope to be scrutinised while plotting and characterisation fell to the wayside. The stories were often boring, nonsensical and convoluted, and the series ‘arcs’ (if you can even call them that) were poorly developed and had no satisfying payoff whatsoever. Hell Bent was just the final turd on top of the dumpster fire. A pointless, vacuous load of absolute arse written by a man too stupid and too self absorbed to write anything worthwhile or compelling, and clearly has absolutely no fucking respect for the franchise he’s writing for. I’ve been getting into a bad habit of describing each subsequent series finale as the worst series finale so far. The Name Of The Doctor was the worst until Death In Heaven took over. Death In Heaven was the worst until Hell Bent reared its ugly head. Now I’m too scared to declare that Hell Bent is the worst series finale so far in case I jinx the Series 10 finale. Can it get any worse than this?!

Chocolate Watch Band - No Way Out

Chocolate Watch Band (Watchband) is considered by some to be the ultimate Garage Band. They played early, if not the earliest psychedelic punk music.They had a heavier take on responding to the British Invasion that was in full swing when they formed. In their early stages they were interested in the music of The Who, but it is obvious that they owe a debt to The Rolling Stones, and perhaps were America’s answer to the hard edged blues-rock and swagger of the Stones. Their recordings certainly supported that, and their live performances reflected it as well. As a warm up, and to show their abilities to producer Ed Cobb down in Los Angeles in 1966, the first song they recorded tracks for was Chuck Berry’s Come On. This also happened to be the first song the Stones ever recorded. - As written about by Vladimir Bogdanov, Stephen Thomas Erlewine and Chris Woodstra. The style of music they played has been defined in a number of ways, garage rock, proto-punk, psychedelic, (definitive) psychedelic punk. In the bands’ website History - The Story, it even goes so far as to label their music as “Anglophilic blueswailing”. Music critic Bruce Eder said “they were a unique phenomenon -- based on their recordings, they were a world-class garage punk act, if that's possible, beating the Ramones to the punch by a decade, He further “described the material on the album as "highly potent, slashing, exciting, clever pieces of music”. While I’ve not seen it mentioned I would go so far as to surmise that they may have been influenced by the psychedelic blues-rock offered by The Yardbirds as well. Eder further says “…the album (No Way Out) was largely overlooked at the time of its release and had gone out of print by the early 1970s’, By the early ‘80s I started hearing about the demand for their original albums which eventually spread across the planet. Eder said that around that time their albums “were changing hands for $100 apiece or more.” In later writings I have seen up to $1000 being estimated. I firmly concluded early on that no way would I ever sell my copy of No Way Out.

Before going further it must be noted that the use of Watch Band in their name appeared in two places in particular, the albums No Way Out and inner Mystique. It is apparent in all other ways that the name as created by the band early on is Chocolate Watchband. In no place I’ve researched have I seen a reference or explanation for this. In my opinion it was either an error on the part of label and/or producer, or it was done intentionally. The latter would make some sense since producer Ed Cobb certainly did a lot of rogue tampering when it came to the production of their recordings. There was another band called The Chocolate Watch Band based in London, England. That group released two singles, ironically in 1967, the same year No Way Out was issued. I seriously doubt that the San Jose CA-based CWB was aware of that band. In any case, the name Chocolate Watchband (or CWB) will hereon be used.

When I discovered their album No Way Out in my favorite record store across the road from my high school it must have only been out a short time. I’m not sure I had heard of them, but the album was attractive enough to listen to and I bought it immediately. It’s possible that a friend of mine may have known about them because I found out pretty quickly that they were “local”, since I lived in Palo Alto, in Santa Clara County (aka, in time, Silicone Valley).

The band was originally formed at Foothill College in Los Altos Hills in 1965 by Mark Loomis and Ned Torney. This was prior to my tenure at Foothill, but I have heard they played there many times.  As to how the band name came into being I happened to find this information from Tim Abbott: “The story is that the band was sitting around the Owls Nest up at Foothill College trying to come up with a name for the band. The idea was to find two cool words that sounded good together. Somebody said chocolate and somebody said watch()band and that was it”. Chocolate Watchband eventually dissolved when Torney and the lead singer at the time, Danny Phay, moved over to a band called The Otherside (The Other Side in some examples) followed by another CWB member Jo Kemling. This left Loomis, drummer Gary Andrijasevich and bassist Rick Young with no band. After a foray into The Shandels Mark Loomis decided to resurrect Chocolate Watchband, calling on Andrijasevich once again and pulling Shandel bandmates bassist Bill ‘Flo” Flores and Topsiders guitarist Dave ‘Sean” Tolby into the fold. The final piece was added when Loomis recruited David Aguilar as lead vocalist. Aguilar, who had just become the lead singer in the band The Mourning Reign, explains how it came about:  “…as I moved around the stage at the Brass Rail with a tambourine in one hand and a microphone in the other, I saw two guys with long blond hair, Sean Tolby  and Mark Loomis in the front row of the audience watching me. I didn't think much of it. There was always other band members hanging around checking out the competition. Later that evening, while I was struggling with chemistry homework in my bedroom, my Dad called up the stairs and said there was someone on the phone for me. It was Mark Loomis. He said he was forming a new band called the 'Chocolate Watchband'. Was I interested in joining it? It took almost a nanosecond to decide. "Hell Yes!" "Good" he said. "We meet next Thursday night at 6 PM at my house. Here's my address. " That was all we said to each other. When I drove up four days later, drums and cymbals were being thrown out the front door onto the lawn. I could hear yelling going on inside the house and a woman wailing in her high pitched voice. Out came the last remnant of the old Watchband, a drummer cursing and flipping off some invisible entity inside the house. I was thinking, wow this is one hell of a reception! When I got inside, everything was peaceful. Mark had a broad smile on his face. He was standing in front of his mother whose face was redder then a ripe tomato. All he said to me was, "Well, that's done. Let me show you where we're going to practice.” He led me past the kitchen, through the family room and out into the garage. In those days, the garage was where all good and bad bands ended up. …Mark's garage was awesome. No cars, no crap, just a garage with soundproof walls, carpet remnants on the cement floor and two little neighbor girls ages 11 and 12 with pimples on their chins sitting in lawn chairs with wide grins on their faces. It was time to rock and roll!”

The new line-up made their debut performance in February 1966, quickly becoming one the hottest live acts in the wider Bay Area and beyond. During their brief heyday period in 1966-1967 Chocolate Watch Band played many concerts, including at Fillmore Auditorium, Oakland Coliseum, The Whiskey in L.A,, Coconut Grove in Santa Cruz, and others. The played bills with The Mothers of Invention, Jefferson Airplane, The Grateful Dead and The Doors among others. They also performed at the first rock music festival in the United States, KFRC’s Magic Mountain Festival at Mount Tamalpais in Marin County CA. After the Mothers gig at The Fillmore, Bill Graham wanted CWB to be one of his personal house bands at his new venue, Fillmore East, along. with the Airplane and the Dead. They had just signed a contract to be managed by local promoter Ron Roupe a week before so that did not happen. Roupe went on to secure the record deal with Green Grass Productions which lead to their meeting producers Ed Cobb and Ray Harris, according to Richie Unterberger. By the fall of ’66 they got signed up by Cobb to the Capitol Records’ subsidiary Tower Records. Two singles, Sweet Young Thing  backed by Dylan’s It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue (1966) and Misty Lane backed by She Weaves a Tender Trap (1967) were released and failed to chart to add to the already recorded, but yet to be released, Come On.

During this period the band was featured in two Sam Katzman films released by American International Pictures. The first one, Riot on Sunset Strip, an “exploitation movie par excellence rushed out to theaters in early 1967” which, according to Eder included “a couple of excellent numbers, "Don't Need Your Lovin'" and "Sitting There Standing," and (the band) managed to appear in the movie, which has since become a '60s cult classic.” It was at the height of their musical powers. The next film, The Love-Ins, was released later in July. The band was supposed to have a major role in it, but most of that was cut before release. It is rumored that it was due to some band misbehavior on the set. However their song, Are You Gonna Be There (At the Love-In),” ended up being used in the movie according to Eder. When asked by Amanda Sheppard for her 2018 Article “No Way Out for the Chocolate Watchband!” in PleaseKillMe,  “Is it true that you started a food fight on the back lot of MGM while you guys were filming Riot On The Sunset Strip?” David Aguilar had this to say, “Yes, I may have started a food fight but what can I say…I was a young rocker in a strange land! Important Safety Note: You would think a hamburger has stable aerodynamics when tossed…it doesn’t….probably the pickles are to blame.” I guess the possibility of the band creating havoc on the set was real.

Along about this time Chocolate Watchband was also recording tracks for their first record. What ‘The Story’ on the band’s website history site calls “mysterioso studio trickery on (‘the’) (be)half of producer Ed Cobb” could also apply to other various details about the No Way Out recording project in general. There is no specific information about studio recording dates, exact release date, and what songs actually featured the band. Per one source the recording period was in mid-1967, which would be true, but not very precise. Based on what information there is, four of the tracks on the album actually featured the entire band. According to biographer Bruce Eder only two songs, Come On and Gone and Passes By made it to the album intact. Amanda Sheppard points out that the label, pressuring Ed Cobb to rush production, lead him “to record multiple songs he wrote with the sound engineers, while the band was out on tour”. There are actually two instrumentals written by engineers Richard Podolor and Bill Bennett, plus two more written by studio musician Don Bennett and a co-writer. Don Bennett’s lead vocals were also recorded for at least three of the tracks and ended up on the record rather than David Aguilar’s. This was notedly true concerning what is generally considered  the most popular song, Let’s Talk About Girls. On some tracks entirely different musicians were used in the recordings. The song No Way Out is stated in one source as the only composition by the band, but Ed Cobb credited it to himself, which is what became official. There is even one source according to Eder that says “Frontman Aguilar began writing material for the band, including originals like….”No Way Out….”. He further states that it was “an instrumental spawned from a studio warm-up, with spontaneous Aguilar vocals, that Cobb later took credit for”. In his AllMusic biography of the band Eder says it was “Cobb-authored”. Mysterioso indeed.

Amanda Sheppard writes, “To further complicate matters, Chocolate Watchband’s label, Tower Records, had mistaken the group for a black rhythm and blues band and farmed out their distribution to Uptown Records who sold their albums in Oakland, instead of their top market in San Jose. Uptown even booked the Watchband on soul revues with Jackie Wilson and The Coasters.” In the same article with Sheppard she asked David Aguilar about soul revues: He replied, “We did one soul revue that I can remember. We had just been signed by the Attarack Corporation, we had cut some tracks in Los Angeles and in some bizarre turn of fate, someone at Capitol Records apparently looked at our name and decided what the ‘chocolate’ must indicate in our name, THIS WAS A BLACK ROCK AND ROLL BAND. They assigned us to the Uptown Label, a distributor of black rhythm & blues and 50’s black performers. Chuck Berry was notorious for showing up at a show, playing with a locally hired band, and then getting paid in cash before he left the theater. So, we stepped in and played as his backup band…paying off the theater bouncer to get rid of the original hired band when they showed up to play. It worked! The shows were set in the ‘50’s revue set-up…lots of performers, 3-4 songs, and then the next group came on stage. With Chuck, we did “Johnny B. Goode”, “Little Queenie”, “Sweet Little Sixteen”, and “Roll Over Beethoven”. The Watchband played “I’m a Man”, “Little Red Rooster”, “Better Man Than I”, and “I’m Not Like Everybody Else”, which really fit for that show!”

About the time the album came out Loomis, Andrijasevich and Aguilar had all left the band. It had become clear that Loomis preferred a more melodic style of music and he and Andrijasevich ended up in a folk-rock band for awhile, The Tingle Guild, with early CWB vocalist Danny Phay. Since there was still a heavy performance schedule to fulfill guitarist Tim Abbott, drummer Mark Whittaker and vocalist Chris Flinders (members of the San Francisco Bay Blues Band) joined the remaining Flores and Tolby and the band. While being somewhat different, the band maintained a level of success. Abbott and Flinders left the band before the end of 1967 however, and Aguilar came back briefly, but the band was essentially history by the end of the year.

A memory I have about the No Way Out album involves a party that included primarily members of the high school choir which I was in, and our friends. The party was at the home of one of my choir mates, She and two of her sisters were all friends of mine in high school. I brought along some record albums, amongst them was No Way Out. I put side one on and when the second cut, the bands’ wicked version of Wilson Picketts’ Midnight Hour, came on I suddenly found myself being asked to play it again, and again, and again. There were some people there who just couldn’t get enough of it. I don’t know, maybe it was the weed. No one else seemed to care so I, and a few other people, put it on several times throughout the night. Luckily, other music got played as well.

I recall hearing about a new drummer joining CWB not long after I got the album, and that he had attended my high school. The name was familiar and one day I was walking near my house and I ran into him outside his. He had graduated that year, two years before I did. I decided to ask him and he said that he had joined CWB. It turned out to be brief, but it was cool that I had a neighbor who was in Chocolate Watchband. Around 2010 or 2011 I got to know Gary Andrijasevich and Tim Abbott. Gary lives in Santa Cruz and is still an active percussionist. I met him when I saw him playing with one of the bands he regularly plays with, EXTRA LARGE. He also plays with other bands at times, like my friends Beach Cowboys.

Chocolate Watch Band has been playing off and on since 1999 and after I became publicist at the now-defunct Don Quixote’s in Felton CA I did some research into what they were up to. I discovered that Tim Abbott was now the ongoing guitarist for them. I decided to reach out to him and we communicated about the potential for them playing DQ’s. Eventually they were scheduled to play thanks to my friend DJ Sid Presley, but due to David Aguilars’ acute health issues it was canceled. I later met up with Tim when CWB premiered at San Francisco’s The Chapel in 2015, seeing them once more in 2019 just as they were releasing their newest album, “Sweet Young Thing”. Prior to that I got to see Chocolate Watch Band for the first times twice on the same day in 2002. They played a co-bill with The Electric Prunes presented by the BayPop Festival at The Great American Music Hall in SF. That afternoon both bands played at Amoeba Records in Berkeley. I picked up CWB’s 2000 ‘Get Away’ album written primarily by David Aguilar at Great American that night.

Chocolate Watchband is alive and well, recording singles and making videos real time as I write this, Tim Abbott told me. There is just no way out of it, folks.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Chocolate_Watchband

https://www.thechocolatewatchband.com

https://www.thechocolatewatchband.com/history

https://www.allmusic.com/artist/the-chocolate-watchband-mn0000774791/biography

https://pleasekillme.com/chocolate-watchband/

https://rateyourmusic.com/artist/the_chocolate_watchband 

No Way Out full album https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9FaO2yDAia8

LP31

Season 10 - the verdict

If you’re just reading this to pick a fight because your taste differs from mine, then I suggest you don’t read further. However, if you’re up for a civilized discussion and exchanged of opinions, then go ahead :) I’m certainly not one to critize just for the sake of complaining, but I’d like to express my views on the latest season that has let me down.

Season 10 has sort of disappointed me. I truly loved S7-9 and I think S9 with all the emotion and the complex plots and twists and cliffhangers and character depth was the best of New Who, so I already suspected that S10 wouldn’t be quite as good, but it was still a disappointment.

Let me start with Bill’s character. Even though I hated the short clip they showed us a year before the season aired, I came to like Bill. However, I think the writers didn’t do her justice at all. Compared to all the other (especially Moffat) companions her character seemed very flat and not well thought out. This might be because every episode was basically written by a different writer and it felt as if they hadn’t actually sat down together and discussed the episodes. Bill even seemed a bit out of character on occasions. For example, she is sometimes described by Twelve as having a temper, which, to me, only really shows when she shoots the Doctor in The Lie Of The Land without a warning. However, that seemed to come completely out of nowhere to me. There was no reason, no build-up and I refused to believe that Bill would actually shoot her friend on a whim, only to stand by and gawk two minutes later when it turned out he had fooled her the entire time. Where was her temper when she realized it was nothing but a show? Also, do we ever really get a reason as to why she travels with the Doctor at all? Amy ran away with her imaginary friend on her wedding night because she didn’t want to grow up. Clara wanted to see the world and was offered the chance at something even greater. From all three Moffat companions Bill is the only one that seems like a rough draft, not a finished product. I liked Bill, but this is the reason I never really got attached to her. I know that many people complained about it in previous seasons and maybe that’s the reason Moffat did it, but we got so know so much about Amy’s and especially Clara’s life and I realized that I actually really loved that about the show. I liked it when it was Amy Who and Clara Who. I would have loved to know why Bill is serving chips and is not enrolled in the university when she’s such a clever woman and eager student. To me it really felt as if Bill’s character was unfinished and inconsistent and maybe it was supposed to have that effect on viewers, but if that’s it, then I didn’t like it that much.

Which brings me to the topic of plots. I thought that the majority of episodes had real potential. The ideas, the sci-fi, all of that was a really good idea - and it fell short. I think S10 can most easily compared to a puzzle and each writer was in charge of one piece, but they didn’t all fit together in the end. There was a gap here and some overlapping there and it just didn’t create a harmonious whole. I can’t even really pick a favourite episode because there’s something bothering me about every single one of them, but if I had to, I’d pick Oxygen. Why? Because it was the only episode that surprised me. The plot twist of having the Doctor go blind was amazing! And that’s about it. I’ve made a post about this before, but it still bothers me that the majority of episode was very predictable. For example, in Smile we get told the problem and the solution before the opening credits. We see the robots going crazy, we see that the city is made of them. For me, the fun part of watching an episode is to discover things along with the Doctor and companion and it’s even more fun when I have to think about it after the episode ends or rewatch it to fully understand what was going on. I just always thought Moffat was at his best when he used complicated plot twists that took a while to sink in (UTL/BTF) or left it completely open (Listen) and you can disagree on that because it’s a matter of taste. I also loved the plot arcs that spread over several seasons before finally being truly revealed (the crack, the silence). I don’t watch a lot of TV because I get bored very easily when the plot is too predictable and so far I had always thought that DW was one of those shows that could keep me on my toes, but S10 was too see-through for my taste. Especially Smile, Thin Ice, Knock Knock, Extremis and the finale. A week before The Doctor Falls aired I made a post (I don’t know if it was on here or just Instagram and Twitter) saying that I wanted Missy to kill the Master because she’s siding with the Doctor and when I watched exactly that happen on screen I opened my mouth and was about to say “And now the Master needs to kill Missy to close the circle” when that happened as well.

Another matter is the same issue I’ve had with Bill’s character and that is how most of the plots seemed more like drafts than finished productions and were rushed into completion. The best example for that is the Monk Trilogy. Awesome idea, truly awesome idea, but again it fell short. It could have been a wonderful, emotional three parter with loads of sci-fi, action and drama, but it just came out. . . dull. I had been looking forward to The Lie Of The Land a lot because I love a good dystopia setting, but the entire episode was just rushed through and they didn’t get the feeling and emotion across at all. It was just one weird scene after the other felt like I was fast-forwarding through the story.

One thing that I’ve always loved about DW was the emotions it could trigger in me. I’ve cried my eyes out over so many sad and moving scenes that I’ve lost count and that effect doesn’t vanish no matter how often I re-watch it. But the way S10 was rushed didn’t really give me any chance to actually get emotional over anything. I felt detached not just from Bill, but from the Doctor as well. The more the season went on the less I was actually looking forward to new episodes and I’m afraid that process started during THORS. S9 is my favourite and Steven Moffat’s masterpiece Heaven Sent/Hell Bent is just unbeatable in my opinion. Of course it could only go backwards from there, but I had expected a bit more than what we got. I have many things to say about THORS and none of them are good because to me that plotless episode felt like a slap in the face after the marvellous, rich S9 and I’ve never really recovered from that.

I watched S10 for Peter Capaldi and for Michelle Gomez mainly because those two were just as amazing as before, but there have been moments when I wished I could just switch off and walk away. In my opinion, Steven Moffat should have quit after Hell Bent because it makes me sad to think that Peter’s and Michelle’s talents were wasted on such a mediocre season.

Another thing that bothers me a great deal is Bill’s ending and how most people on the internet reacted to it. I was very surprised to see that people loved it. I didn’t. I really didn’t. It doesn’t matter that she became like Heather and travelled the universe in this form, what matters to me is what happened before. I have always found the Cybermen to be the eeriest of DW monsters simply because of the way they are made and to have a companion, a friend of the Doctor, suffer that fate is terrible. Bill’s body was chopped up and thrown away, her consciousness put in a metal body while she was waiting for the Doctor to come and save her. She suffered in her Cyberman form up to the point that she basically asked the Doctor to end her existence before she keeled over and died. That is a good story, but it is NOT a good ending for a young woman like Bill. 

This post could be a lot longer because I have more to say about the season, but I think I’ll leave it here. This show has been my favourite since S7 and I will always treasure the seasons that we got up until 10. That is also why I’m definitely going to give the new Doctor a chance - whoever they are - but my excitement for the show has already died during THORS. I might love what comes after Peter, I might not, but I just don’t feel the same love for the show anymore than I’ve felt during S7-9.