Into the Howling: Chapter 6

[timelord1]

Title: Into the Howling
Rating: Teen
Pairing: 10/Rose
Category: Drama, Romance, Humor, Action/Adventure
SPOILERS: AU on end of Doomsday and points west.
Summary: What if things had happened just a bit differently there at the end, with the levers?
Notes: Sorry for the delay, my friends. Many thanks to the Cult of Eljay for making sure I wasn't completely out of my mind with this chapter: kelkat9, onabearskinrug and who_in_whoville. 

The Doctor was sitting up in the pod with Rose lying against his chest. He had to get up and get the ship out of the Void; his sense of time told him that he’d been out of commission for a couple of days, and the longer Rose was in the Void, the more she was going to be susceptible to its effects. Whatever those effects might be – he knew of no instance where a human had gone into the Void the way she had and survived. He was frankly not keen on finding out what sustained exposure to the Void was going to do to either of them, so as much as he wanted to stretch out in the pod and go back to sleep, he had work to do. As soon as he could muster the strength to move.
 
In all his years he had never come that close to regenerating without actually going through it. Pulled back from the brink by a pink and yellow angel and a story about a red bicycle, of all the things. She looked so tired now, more slumped than lying against him. She had probably been awake most of the last two days. He eased himself out from under her and she drooped, limp as a dishrag, to the mattress. There was no need for her to lie in his essence of sickness when there was a clean and more comfortable pod two steps away. He scooped her up into his aching arms, the effort making beads of sweat form and trail down his sides. By the time he’d tucked her in so she would be comfortable, his face was dripping sweat.
 
He sighed as he looked over at the waiting control console. He was sticky and smelled bad and he needed a shave and, more than anything, he wanted to stretch out, close his eyes and not have to deal with flying the ridiculous craft. He couldn’t hold down water, everything hurt, and he needed about fifteen more hours of sleep before his system would completely reset, and he absolutely hated what a whinger he became when he had a bad case of post-near-death malaise.
 
One handy thing about being in a Void ship was that since it was technically travelling through non-existence, it couldn’t drift off course when the controls weren’t being manned. They just sort of sat there with no gravity to pull them, removed from the Void but, he feared, not immune to its effects. Just as wearing goggles and crouching behind a bunker protects you from the effects of a nuclear blast, but doesn’t prevent radiation from penetrating your cells. He didn’t let his mind linger long on the memory of Rose’s recent encounter with a hearty dose of radiation. Whingeing or not, he had to get them out of the Void as quickly as he could. No trying for home; he would find the first possible gap and get them through it, and worry about getting them home once she was strong enough to go back into the Void again. If she ever was.
 
He found a wide gap in the universe designated M.458X624Ξ, which the Doctor decided sounded like a positively idyllic designation for a universe, and eased the ship through. This gap came out directly over a planet, and they were in orbit before he’d gotten them completely through the gap. He had no more than opened the communications circuits before the speakers crackled to life. He could hear a pleasant voice speaking in a language that sounded like a lot of nasal grunting. The Doctor replied in Default, crossing his fingers that this universe’s Default was again the same as his own. And that this planet was not populated with torture-happy skin puppets like the last one. That would be a lovely change of pace.
 
“Hello - this is the ship in orbit around your planet. We are marooned from another universe. The crew is ill and our ship is damaged. We are looking for a safe place to recover and make repairs before trying to get back to our home universe.” He clicked off the com, wiping the sweat off his face. “Please don’t kill us.”
 
Suddenly, the inside of the Void ship was filled with the sound of tinny, slightly tropical piano jazz coming from the speakers. The Doctor looked around the ship with an amused smirk.
 
“I’m on hold,” he muttered, chuckling. “That is honestly a first.”
 
Before the current song ended the pleasant voice returned, speaking in grunty, nasally Default. “On behalf of the Galactic Refugee Policy of the government of the planet Qennda, you will be permitted to land your ship in one of our designated Refugee zones. After a cursory detention and debriefing, you will either be granted temporary visas, allowed access to repair facilities and medical care, or you will be asked to return to your ship and depart at once. Failure to comply with the outlaid terms will result in the immediate destruction of your ship. Do you comply?”
 
The Doctor rolled his eyes but kept his tone of voice pleasant. The last thing he was in the mood for was a lot of interplanetary bureaucratic haranguing. All he wanted was a hot shower, a cup of tea and a few hours’ lie-down under a cozy blanket. “We respectfully comply, and await transmission of the coordinates to the nearest Refugee zone.” When the com disconnected, he stuck his tongue out at it and pulled a face. This was precisely why he preferred landing undetected on planets. Going through the front door was nothing but an immigration disaster; mountains of paperwork and being asked the same questions over and over again.
 
Once the coordinates were transmitted, the Doctor brought the ship to the appropriate spot and landed the ship within the Refugee zone, which was quite an accomplishment as it was his first time landing the ship. He wrestled the pitch and yaw, firing retro boosters and reverse thrusters out of sequence as a chorus of alarms announced that he was doing a terrible job. The proximity alarm went off at some point, but he was unable to distinguish it from the four other alarms going off at the same time, and as a result they touched down a little harder than he would have liked, and the impact jostled Rose awake.
 
“What’s goin’ on?” she murmured, lifting her head off the pillow.
 
“We are outside the Void. You require rest before we can continue, and I as well do. We are in a Refugee zone on the planet Qennda, slightly under arrest again,” he said with a nervous smile. “Do not fear, though, this time I will not make the mistake again with the intuitive paper.”
 
“Do we need spacesuits?” Rose asked as he helped her out of the pod and onto her feet. He didn’t like how her limbs were quivering as she stood up.
 
He shook his head. “Sensors indicate the atmosphere is similar to your Earth’s,” he said.
 
“Good,” she said. “Because yours is still full of throw-up. I was too tired to clean it.”
 
He grinned. “I will get another, I think,” he said, taking her hand as much to do a quick assessment as for the pleasure of it. Her temperature felt to be about 36.9C, which was about where it usually hovered. Her respiration was normal, if a hair slow, and her heart rate was perfect. He ducked his head to look into her eyes. “Are you well?”
 
“Tired,” she sighed, leaning against him. “I’m very tired.”
 
“We will get through this red string as rapidly as we are able, and then we will sleep for a whole day on a soft bed with nice blankets.”
 
Rose smiled a little. “I think you mean red tape.”
 
“Yes,” he said. “Quickly to the red tape we go, and then to bed. Allons-y!”
 
“Don’t tell me,” Rose said with a roll of her eyes. “Your French is better than your English, too.”
 
He smirked. “Oui, je parle le français parfaitement. Si tu le parlerait, ma chère, nous n’aurions pas de problème de communication.” He winked at her and soniced open the door.
 
The ship was one of dozens of various spacecraft clustered together in what was serving as a makeshift space dock in the middle of a meadow. There were three large tents in the distance, and the Doctor could see dozens of creatures milling around near the tents. Refugee processing. Beyond the tents he could see a high fence surrounding the meadow, but he didn’t see any other tents besides the three, which let him hope that the government of the planet Qennda did not intend on housing them in the middle of a field. He gave Rose a bright smile and as they walked on, he tried to forget about the lingering ache that radiated through his muscles with every step. Rose was walking very slowly and from time to time would close her eyes and breathe out a sigh.
 
They approached the first tent and were greeted by an effete young man with long, stick-straight silver hair and a coat that looked like it had been made out of several different colorful sweaters sewn together by someone who had been drinking and not paying very close attention to what they were doing. The Doctor gave the coat a silent appraisal and thought of a time not so long ago when he would have fought the young man to the death to get that coat, as it would have gone so well with a particularly fabulous umbrella he had. He was seated at a small computer terminal, clicking away at the keys so rapidly the Doctor was certain half the time he was only hitting keys to make it appear as if he were typing something important.
 
“Blessings to you,” the young man began in stiffly formal Default, his smile thick with just a touch of lip gloss gleaming in the sunshine. He was still typing. “Can you understand what I am saying to you at this time?”
 
“Yes,” the Doctor answered. The young man’s smile became even more plastic. His fingers went faster. The Doctor wanted to lie down where he stood.
 
“Isn’t that nice?” the young man said, his eyes never leaving the screen. “Now, if you would please state your identity designation.”
 
“I am called the Doctor,” the Doctor said. “My companion is called Rose. Do you need anything spelled?”
 
“Is ‘Doctor’ a professional designation or an identity designation?” the young man asked. Clickety-click-click-tap-tap-tap-spacebar-tap-tap.
 
“Both,” the Doctor answered. Bang-clack-clickety-click-bang-tap-tap-tap-tap-click-click-click-click. The Doctor’s eyes went a bit wider.
 
“Planet of origin?”
 
The Doctor frowned. “I don’t suppose there is a designation for ‘Alternate Universe,’ is there?”
 
Click-clack-tappity-bang-spacebar-tap-tap-tap-click-click-click-tap-tap-bang. “No.”
 
He turned and made a face at Rose. “This is going to be like attempting to acquire parking permits from the local council.”
 
“How did you come to be a refugee?” the young man asked.
 
The Doctor gave a puzzled half-shrug. “Lifetime aspiration? I just love tents.”
 
The young man cleared his throat. “Species designation for you and your mate.”
 
“Human,” the Doctor answered without a hint of hesitation. No need to make things any more complicated than they already were.
 
“Do you or your mate have any knowledge of or ties to the Gilthonian Confederacy?”
 
Odd question. The Doctor shook his head. “Never heard of it.” He got the feeling that all the questioning was meaningless except for that last one. If he weren’t so bone-weary he would have asked more about it. As it was, he let the young man type on.
 
Clickety-click-tap-tap-tap-spacebar-LONG PAUSE-tap-tappity-click-click-click. “Your visas are being processed. Please remain in the holding zone until your papers are in order. Thank you for your time and enjoy your visit to the planet.” The young man beamed. “Blessings.”
 
“Yeah, blessings,” the Doctor said, taking Rose’s hand. He was about to do another assessment on her when they suddenly found themselves surrounded by a group of small, round creatures with pink and orange striped bodies and spiky tufts of yellow hair. The creatures smiled beatifically at them with big blue eyes as they bounced up and down, squeaking and chattering.
 
“Okay, these things are too cute,” Rose said, bending down to pat one on the head. It gurgled and nuzzled her palm and its fellows cooed and pressed in closer.
 
“Take care,” the Doctor said as one of the creatures started nibbling on the laces of his trainers. “You never know when cute is just a disguise for evil.” Another rolled on its back in front of the Doctor and gurgled, looking at him imploringly. After a moment he relented with a sigh and crouched down to scratch the creature on its silky belly. It put its forepaws on his hand and pulled itself closer, mewling. He had to stop and wonder what it said about him and the way his life went that he was fully expecting the darling little creature to take part of his hand off.
 
“Oh, now, come away from them!” the young man cried, hurrying over from the tent. He waded through the herd of squeaking creatures, waving his clipboard at them. They tumbled and rolled out of his way, squeaking their disapproval. “Get along!” the young man urged, tapping one of the creatures on the rump with his clipboard. He smiled at the Doctor and Rose; he was wearing a great deal of eye makeup along with the lip gloss. “Silly things. They are the last survivors from the lost planet Gallifrey. Call themselves ‘Toclafane.’”
 
The Doctor’s hearts nearly stopped. He stood up, lifting the mewling little creature with him. It snuggled against his chest and began to purr, swatting gently at him with one of its paws.
 
“What did he say?” Rose asked.
 
“He says they are from Gallifrey,” he whispered, looking down at the chubby thing as it squirmed to get comfortable in his arms. “Toclafane. On my Gallifrey they were myth.” He turned his attention to the Toclafane. “Can you understand me?” he asked in Gallifreyan, his hearts burning with hope.
 
If the Toclafane understood, it gave no indication, but went on snuggling and making happy little noises. The Doctor set it down and patted it on the head, not letting on to Rose even a glimmer of how crushed he was on the inside.
 
*****
 
It was over an hour before their visas were ready, and their friend in the jolly patchwork sweater coat found the Doctor and Rose curled up in the grass under a tree, sleeping along with the Toclafane. The chubby little creatures were piled up on top of one another so they could be snuggled against some part of the Doctor. The young man clapped his hands and the Toclafane began hopping up and down and squeaking, which in turn woke the Doctor. Rose, the Doctor noticed, did not stir despite the noise.
 
The young man held out his purple and green-sleeved arm to pass an envelope to the Doctor. “Your visas, along with housing and medical vouchers, as well as a list of facilities that may be able to help with repairs to your interplanetary conveyance. Blessings.” The bureaucrat walked away, the wide hem of his coat swinging merrily in time with his hips. The Doctor rubbed his eyes and several Toclafane tumbled into his lap to gaze up at him.
 
“Hello,” he tried again in Gallifreyan, scratching one under its chin. “You must be able to speak some language if you were able to identify yourselves when you arrived here. If you can understand me, please say something. I’m the last survivor of Gallifrey in my universe – even if it’s not really the same planet, we’re sort of the same. I would give anything just to hear my own language being spoken back to me. It’s been so long, and I’ve been so very alone.”
 
The Toclafane looked at one another before one stepped forward and bowed its head to the Doctor.
 
“You are not alone,” it said.
 
Its Gallifreyan was slightly different from his own, but the sound of his language being spoken by someone other than himself brought him immediately to tears. The Toclafane surrounded him, purring and gurgling, and the Doctor gathered as many up into his arms as he could, burying his face in their fur. They smelled like home. He drew one out of the pile and held it out in front of him with both hands, putting his thumbs over its chest. Sure enough, he felt the dual rhythm of its binary heartbeats under his thumbs.
 
“Beloved,” the Doctor said to Rose, still admiring the creature he was holding, “the Void ship is about to become a very crowded place.” When she didn’t answer, he looked back to see if she was rolling her eyes at him and found that she still hadn’t woken up. He set the Toclafane down and went to her side, giving her a little shake. Her eyelids fluttered halfway open and the right side of her mouth twitched a bit of a smile.
 
“Hello,” she said. “Sorry. ‘m just so tired.” She sat up and hung her head forward. The Doctor rubbed her back in gentle circles as she gathered herself. They had only been asleep perhaps an hour, so it stood to reason that sleeping for an hour on the ground would only serve to make her more tired than help her to feel better. It was time to use the housing voucher and get them a proper bed that they wouldn’t have to get out of until they both felt like themselves again. Finally she lifted her head and smiled a real smile at him.
 
“I’m starving. When can we get something to eat?” She asked.
 
The Doctor held up the envelope with their papers. “We are free to depart whenever we wish.” He got to his feet and helped her up. Despite his own malaise making him feel weak and sluggish, it took very little effort for him to help her to her feet. It felt almost as if the level of the planet’s gravity was such that it made her mass less substantial than it usually was, but the Doctor felt nothing different in his own body. It was simply as if there were somehow less of Rose than there should be. Again, he could not exclude the possibility that it was merely exhaustion and hunger making her be not quite herself, so he wanted to eliminate those two variables as quickly as he could to get a more accurate picture of what was going on with her.
 
They walked past the processing tents, the Toclafane bouncing and squeaking along with them, until they came to the main gate for the refugee zone. There were two unarmed but still menacing-looking guards standing on either side of the gate. The Doctor handed the envelope with the paperwork to one of the guards and, after it was checked, the guard stepped aside and let the Doctor and Rose pass. They stopped the Toclafane from following.
 
“Why can’t they come with us?” the Doctor asked. The Toclafane looked up at him, their eyes imploringly sad.
 
“They are the last known survivors of their species,” the guard that had checked their paperwork said. “All sole survivorships are detained in the refugee zones for safeguarding.”
 
Good thing I said I was human. “For how long?” he asked.
 
The guard glowered into the Doctor’s eyes. “They are being protected. If you’re looking for something to eat, the taverna half a clic to your left caters to refugees. You’ll find your housing units in the same direction. Move along, now.”
 
As much as the Doctor wanted to press about the safety of the Toclafane, he needed to tend to Rose. It was as if she was barely there; hardly participating in what was happening around her, staring off into space and yawning constantly. He held the guard’s gaze for several long seconds before taking the papers back out of his hand and leading Rose in the indicated direction. The Toclafane bounced along the fence line as far as it went, clustering in the corner to watch the Doctor walk away. He looked back at them one last time before cresting a hill that obscured his view of the fence.
 
“What do you feel?” the Doctor asked as they walked along at Rose’s slower-than-usual pace. The meadow eventually gave way to a gravel road which became bluish-gray cobblestone as they came into a town. The first building they came to had signs in what looked to be several different languages, with Default handwritten at the bottom of each sign, like an afterthought. There was a freestanding chalkboard on the sidewalk in front of the entrance with animated writing swirling across its surface in all the languages from the signs. When Default came up, the Doctor was able to discern the day’s specials.
 
“The Wayfarer Taverna,” the Doctor explained to Rose. “They have Bel-Flatchey Soup today with a loaf of mol-crusted zhim for three and a half credits. Or, you can get broiled bril with a klaypah and mixed spring…I missed that word, apologies…for seven credits. We have no credits. But,” he said with a wink, patting his pockets, “we have ways of acquiring credits. Would you rather eat first or find our housing so you can rest?”
 
“I want chips,” Rose said with a sigh. “You think they’ve got chips?”
 
The Doctor shrugged and offered her his arm. “It is worth the attempt.” They stepped into the dimness of the taverna and were able to enjoy the smell of the food and the clamor of the alien atmosphere for nearly two whole minutes before disaster struck.
 
The Doctor found them a small table near the bar and looked around to figure out whether they would be waited on or if he had to go to the bar to order. There was a band playing a bouncy tune on instruments that appeared to be surgically grafted to the players’ hands and faces. He squinted, wishing he’d brought his brainy specs with him so he could get a closer look. Those weren’t merely musical instruments, but some sort of cybernetic implant that could be used as a musical instrument. He felt a nervous tingle crawl up his spine; the Doctor and cybernetics had never gotten along very well at all.
 
The rest of the taverna was populated with so many different varieties of creatures the Doctor was surprised when he saw two of any one kind standing together. Creatures were laughing together, drinking together; one group of six different species were taking long, indolent drags off what looked and smelled very much like a hookah. Rose had one elbow on the table, resting her head in her hand. Even exhausted, she should have been more interested in the amazing sights around them. He left off admiring the alien melting pot and focused his attention on Rose, brushing her hair out of her face with his hand.
 
“Are you certain you would not rather go find our residence and rest?” he asked. “You look so tired.”
 
She opened her eyes and smiled. “I’m all right. Soon as we eat, though, I’m ready for bed.”
 
The Doctor stood up and walked to the bar, accidentally bumping the shoulder of a red-skinned man nearly twice as tall as the Doctor with a face that appeared to be half human, half seal.
 
“Excuse me,” the Doctor said, offering the man a smile. “I’m very sorry.”
 
The man curled his thickly whiskered upper lip to reveal a row of very sharp, yellow teeth. “You dare to touch me?” he hissed. “You dare to touch me, and then you grumble your apology in that gutter-mouthed Default? A slave’s language!”
 
The Doctor cocked an eyebrow up at him. He really should have known better, but he wasn’t completely himself and he’d had quite a rough go of it lately. “First of all, you may not have noticed, what with your head being so high up above everything that’s going on, but this is a fairly crowded establishment and some measure of “touching” is bound to occur. If you didn’t want to be ‘touched,’ what are you doing standing in a major traffic lane? Secondly, I hesitate to point out that you are currently conversing with me in this gutter-mouthed slave’s language, so that says to me you are mostly likely no more than a slave yourself. Now, please step aside so I can order some chips.”
 
He really should have seen that fist coming. It was like getting smacked in the face with a ham hock. The Doctor staggered back into the table where Rose was waiting and nearly fell on top of her before he righted himself. She looked up at him, eyes bright with fear.
 
He grinned at her as the seal-man stepped forward and grabbed him by the shirt. “That waked you up!” he cried as seal-man threw him against the bar. The achiness from his battle with the virus screamed through his muscles and he ducked in time to miss a second blow from the seal-man’s ham hock fist.
 
“Doctor!” Rose cried, getting to her feet. Most of the bar patrons began to back up to give the fight the room it was going to need. The six creatures at the hookah cheered with mild interest and kept on smoking.
 
“Retain our paperwork!” he shouted to Rose, swinging his fists in the direction of the seal-man. Seal-man snatched the Doctor by his shirt again and tossed him over the bar and into the bartender, who had been in the process of pulling the best pint of Grakthrop Ale he had ever pulled in his life. The collision with the Doctor sent the pint flying into the face of a prim young man with three snakelike necks, who punched the bartender for ruining his best three-collared dress shirt. The bartender punched the Doctor for ruining the pint and causing himself to get punched, and the Doctor slumped to the floor and tried to crawl across the floor back to Rose.
 
Seal-man caught him again by the back of his shirt and lifted him to his feet. The Doctor snapped out a punch to seal-man’s midsection that doubled him over, which gave the Doctor opportunity to shove him as hard as he could into the six creatures and their hookah. The bartender and the snake-necked man were throwing down on the opposite side of the bar while the six creatures got slowly to their feet, their rage tempered into vague irritation thanks to the amount of hookah they’d been smoking that day. Seal-man jumped up and knocked them out of the way to get back to the Doctor, but was stopped mid-lunge when he ran head first into a full bottle of Sorglosian brandy, which was the best and most expensive brandy in the universe. The bottle shattered and seal-man went down. Rose dropped the bottle and the Doctor snatched her hand with a giggle and a grin and they ran out of the taverna as dozens of patrons went to the floor to lick up the spilled brandy.
 
They sprinted down the street until their exhausted legs could sprint no more and they ducked into the first alley they could find to catch their breath and laugh, holding each other. Rose was flushed and beaming, her brown eyes glittering up at the Doctor. He planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek and nuzzled the side of her head with his forehead.
 
“That was all you required, my lacraidh. A briskly jog to get your blood to flowing.” He hugged her tightly and swayed with her until they had both caught their breath enough to slip out the other end of the alley and into a street lined with little shops.
 
“Oh, this is a delight!” the Doctor cried, taking her hand. “When we are properly rested, we will need to acquire some local currency to make some frivolous purchases. Do you still have need for chips?”
 
Her hand slipped out of his and he turned in time to catch her before she could hit her head on the sidewalk as she fainted.

Chapter 7

Comments

[wander-realtai.livejournal.com]

Yay, more Into the Howling!

lol Poor Doctor, just minding his own business and trying to get food for them, and winds up in an old-fashioned barroom brawl. HE TOTALLY WOULD, TOO.

And oh, poor Rose! I'm guessing she's having side effects from being in the Void for too long. (I know, I know, you will respond with your official non-spoilery statement!)

Waiting with bated breath for more!

[timelord1.livejournal.com]

Sorry it took so long!!!! I hate long waits between chapters. :b

Yes, he totally would. Especially feeling a bit run down and not himself as he does, still recovering from the virus. He's a bit grouchy.

*insert non-spoiler statement here* lol - I have an abiding hatred for spoilers...I have a friend that's even further behind on DW than I am, and I get all excited about things I want to talk about, and say "Oh! You would LOVE that, but you haven't seen it yet so I can't tell you!" I think she's starting to hate me lol

Working on more now - had to churn out some birthday crackfic! for a friend today. :) Glad you enjoyed!!!

[larxene-12.livejournal.com]

Poor Rose... if it's not one it's the other, and I think that exhaustion + void radiation = A Very Bad Thing. And of course the Doctor would get into a pub brawl. *shakes head*

And I still adore his manner of speaking. Plus, the Toclafane are adorable. Though am I sensing that there's more going on here than it appears? Or am I beginning to be infected with the Doctor's paranoia? But really, nothing is ever easy for these two.

So glad you updated!

[timelord1.livejournal.com]

Again I apologize for how long it took. I hate that...

Thank you very much! The Toclafane were fun to write...kind of came out of nowhere, but they do have a purpose now. :) Nothing is ever easy, but I do hope that, unless the muse pushes our darling Doctor into another bar fight, that they might get some respite coming soon. :)

[annissamazing]

Great chapter! I can't wait to see what's going on here. I suspect something more than the void is affecting Rose. I'm also interested to find out more about the toclafane. I hope they make a reappearance!

And, oh man, bureaucrats are the same everywhere! :D

[timelord1.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Yes, I think bureaucrats are the only constant in the universe(s). :)

I am working on chapter 7 now that I've finished posting goofy crack!fic for the day lol. More to come, hopefully sooner than last time! :)

[fannishliss.livejournal.com]

I was very happy to see the Toclafane. How fun!

I always suspected the Doctor was a secret brawler at heart. He and Mal Reynolds with their long brown coats. :P

Oh I hope Rose is all right! She seems a little peaked!

[timelord1.livejournal.com]

Hee hee thank you! :) Yeah, I think the Doctor is a scrapper. At least in my head canon he is. And there's more Toclafane to come, for sure!!!

As to Rose, well, more shall be revealed next chapter.... :) I like to be mysterious like that.

[kelkat9.livejournal.com]

Just leavin you some love here! You know I adore this, especially the toclafane and bar brawl. Anxiously awaiting next chapt!

[timelord1.livejournal.com]

My RL BFF read this and when she got to the scene at the taverna, she announced "Hey!! This is like the bar in Star Wars!" :) Thought you might enjoy hearing that. :)

Working on next chapter now. Sort of. Also, playing around on LJ. :D Hee!!!

[who-in-whoville.livejournal.com]

So much greatness about this chapter, but you know what made me giggle? This:

Suddenly, the inside of the Void ship was filled with the sound of tinny, slightly tropical piano jazz coming from the speakers. The Doctor looked around the ship with an amused smirk.
 
“I’m on hold,” he muttered, chuckling. “That is honestly a first.”

Bar scene!!! Yes!!! of course he would be a good fighter. He knows a helluva right hook when he feels it!

[timelord1.livejournal.com]

lol exactly!!!! He can get his butt kicked with the best of them. ;)

I loved the being on hold part myself. There's so much pleasantness on this planet. Just enough to make ya nervous lol...

[flyninthetardis.livejournal.com]

ooh, i love the toclafane. (cuddles one) i hope the Doctor gets to keep them. they just seem like they need eachother. though is it just me or could they sense he was like them?
and the bit about the one guy's coat was absolutely priceless!
i think six would adore the coat.
and last thing, i promise, why do i have the feeling the doctor's going to get detained for being an endagered species?

[timelord1.livejournal.com]

Thank you! :) I love them too. If I was an artist, I would try to draw them hee! I think they sense the kinship, to be sure. :)

Have you ever seen the kind of coat I was trying to describe? WANT!!


All I'm saying is that the Doctor should keep his non-humanity under his hat, if he knows what's good for him. ;)

[flyninthetardis.livejournal.com]

i gonna make that coat now. i could wear it for my D&D (Dungeons and Dragons) Campaigns.

[timelord1.livejournal.com]

I bought a serger and have been collecting goodwill sweaters for a while now so I can do the same thing. :)

[country-who.livejournal.com]

Oooh! To quote Jeremy Clarkson, "SWEEEEEEETT!" I absolutely adore the Toclafane. They seem so lovable.

But, Rose shouldn't be so tired, something is surely wrong. :(

[timelord1.livejournal.com]

That it is...poor Rose... :( Update coming soon. Almost posted a half-chapter tonight, but I'm going to wait and finish it. Hopefully tomorrow. :)

And thank you - I grew quite fond of the Toclafane as I was writing them. Much nicer than the ones that were in the show, eh? :D

[a-phoenixdragon.livejournal.com]

Ohh, ROSE!! Dammit!! The Void got to her!! Shitshitshit!!

*Clings to you*

Loved the Toclafane - and the fight and...well this whole damned chapter really!! I do believe they are getting closer to their universe!!

*Dances and rocks impatiently*

Ohhhhhh...need to see what happens next!!

[timelord1.livejournal.com]

Yay! It's just not a chapter til you post a comment. :)

I thought they were better in this story than the angry metal death machines from The Year That Never Was.. :D

I'm quite a ways into chapter 7, so I hope to post soon!!! :)

*hugs*

[othermewriter.livejournal.com]

Oh our poor Rose. The Doctor really does need to get them both to someplace they can properly rest.

I do so hope that he can get the other Gallifreyans off planet as well but I have a bad feeling about that happening. So very much loving this story.

[timelord1.livejournal.com]

Thank you! :)

Yeah, Rose is in a bad way...they're both in a bad way and don't even know it yet...(handy bit of non-spoiler foreshadowing hee!)

More to come - should be posting a mini-chapter later this morning!

[monkeyprincess7.livejournal.com]

Taking a break from my NaNo novel to read this and you totally cheered me up from killing my first character! So thanks XD

Poor Rose, I have a slight inkling of what's wrong with her, but I could be totally wrong so I won't speculate and just wait for your next awesome chapter. but she'll be alright, the Doctor will see to that.

I want a Toclafane now, they sound so adorable and fluffy <333

[timelord1.livejournal.com]

Happy to be of service! Thanks for taking a break to read!!! :D

The Doctor will always take care of Rose...but who is going to make sure the Doctor is going to be all right? (sinister laughter)...

More to come soon!!!