The Eighth Doctor

It is the Eighth Hour. ((Independent Doctor Who RP blog for the Eighth Doctor. Will RP with any fandom. Seldom NSFW though mun is of age and spoilered content may occur. I will accept M!As and any starters.))

[oneoftheniceones]

A real Big Finish audio drama cover.

[oneoftheniceones]

Missing Beat

[nehaelennia]

Death was kinder than this fate, and such a person would know. Not that such a person and self actually existed after what he had done. There was nothing left after that piece had detached—no self, nothing more than a shell that gazed with no registration of sight and barely a true reaction to light.

Nothing remained in that mind—trapped and caged, broken forever. Irreplaceable, unrepairable. Unreachable after the destroyer’s tool had done such a deed. What remained were the tears marking streaks on her cheeks.

A wet trail remained of the person that was once known as the Master, and now what remained was a shell that had nothing. Robbed of joy, robbed of fear—hate. Thieved of kindness, cruelty, and all that could be. The eyes now dark.

[oneoftheniceones]

The tool was removed slowly, drawn out a smeared rod of metal. He gazed at it momentarily, then carefully unfastened her eyelid, sliding the pins out of the thin flesh and smoothing it back into place.

The trail of tears looked like real tears now. Mixed with blood and leaving a shiny trail along her skin. He dipped slightly, touching his lips to the salty paths. It was better this way. The drums were gone, gone. She could sleep happy now.

He frowned slightly, unhappy with the regular dripping of the tap. Drop, drop, drop, drip, drop, drop, drop, drip. The Doctor straightened and turned his attention to releasing the bindings that secured the person that had been the Master still. The Master no more. Truly a master of nothing, now.

And now there could be peace. Peace. Peace if only that infernal plinking rhythm would stop. He dropped the dirty tool to the floor and turned away to find and silence it.

[oneoftheniceones]

Missing Beat

[nehaelennia]

It had started with blackness. It had woken with bonds—pressure of straps and ties. Restraint. Trapped. Caged.

Pounding. Pounding drums. Always pounding drums. Tap tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap. They wouldn’t cease.

Horror. Oh there was horror. Fear—fear overcame as sight returned, and the sounds around of snapping gloves and clinks of metal tools. Mind registering what was happening, and who was the Doctor in service. This wans’t right, this wasn’t real. How could this be real? Was this the next stage of insanity? The next descent down the trail that had spiraled unchecked for centuries?

Yet there was so much feeling—such fear. Fear. True fear. Horror. Fright. Scared? So scared. She knew, this old time lord knew so very well what was to come and yet vocal chords and tongue were frozen as if it was a slice of art preserved in time for eternity.

There he was, no words needed—not yet. Not as he checked everything, as he made sure. The eye couldn’t move—oh and there it was—it was clear, so clear, so clear of what was to come.

The Master didn’t remember the last time she had cried.

He held it up, and with a question it was unbidden in response:

"D-no! Stop! Don’t—" And it was so fast. A mere moment—a mere moment.

Then, silence. It left in a moment, and left nothing behind. A blank gaze stared, empty and void.

Gone.

[oneoftheniceones]

He rotated the tool, grating his teeth at the slight grind of bone and metal he felt under his fingertips. Born in a morgue. Died under a surgeon's hands. The bells tolled forebodingly.

"Hush, I'm the Doctor. Trust me, you'll-- feel-- much-- better..." He twisted the pick slowly for a new angle, dabbing briefly at the blood. Why was there so much blood? Like tears. He dabbed at it with another lost, childlike expression, then reached for a scanner, smudging the screen with a light orange tint.

Her eye gazed up unseeingly. It was nicer for it to stop looking at him. He drove the pick in deeper. He was helping her. That's what he did, he helped people. She would be so much happier when it was all over.

[oneoftheniceones]

Missing Beat

The Doctor snapped the edge of one of his white latex gloves in place and moved a hand over the row of finely-sharpened tools. Somewhere a tap was dripping regularly; he glanced up and looked lost for a moment, then turned back to his work.

He placed his hands on either side of the woman's skull, studied it for a moment, then selected an intrument shaped like a pick, angling it near her eye. He hesitated for a moment, gazing into those clear, blue eyes. Eyes that held a universe inside, so much older than himself and had seen so much more. Eyes that had been other colours, the eyes of a lover, an enemy, an old, lost soul that needed a doctor's hands now.

There was the sharp odor of antiseptic and alcohol and he caught up several long pins. The skin around her eye should be numb by now. At least there wouldn't be any reflexive movement.

The eyelid was peeled back swiftly and the Doctor inserted the pins to keep it in place. For a moment he stood poised with the pick in hand, glancing down at the arms, legs, torso, and head bound securely. The Doctor dropped the tool and rechecked all the fastenings on a sudden impulse, and then retrived the pick. For a moment he thought about gagging her.

He was going to wish she'd been gagged, wasn't he.

"Ready?" he asked, not really waiting for an answer before picking up a mallet and driving the instrument up into her skull through her eye socket.

[oneoftheniceones]

Valley of Blood

The young woman reigned in her horse, a tall, long-limbed dun gelding, that shook his head and danced sideways away from the other animals. "Vicario, no vamos a parar aquí. No me gustan sus expresiones," she said, casting a glance back down the town's main street-- its only street. "Sólo tener suficiente agua para llegar al pozo."

Josué Vicario turned his horse around and considered. The town had been populated by a train of settlers coming from the American state of Missouri. It had not been here the times Vicario had traveled this way before. The boards were still newly cut and fresh, adobe still white and clean. Technically these were Mexican open range lands and the settlers should not be here, but Mexican authorities were hard-pressed to keep out all the illegal squatters, especially so soon after the War.

And the town easily had sixty men to the Doña's company of sixteen.

"Estoy de acuerdo. Pero debemos tratar de vender caballos y comprar--" his horse snorted and pawed the ground, rolling its eyes to try to look back at the startling distant wheezing, scraping sound "-- what we need."

She shook her head vehemently, silver earrings rattling. "We cannot sell the horses! The horses are the money. They are my family's blood money. Sell the clothes off our backs first." The Doña Olalla Fuentes spurred her animal hard and trotted ahead.

Vicario shrugged to nearest of his vaqueros and clicked at his mount to wheel it into the street. The six Mexicans rode slowly, casting wary glances at the hard features of the few men they saw. The wagons needed water desperately. And there would be no reason to expect any sympathy from any outsiders.

-----oooOOooo-----

"Ah! Charley!" the Doctor exclaimed exuberantly, leaning out the door and appearing positively gleeful. "You'd never guess." He whirled back inside, shutting the door behind him and putting his back to the massive double-doors. "Guess," he demanded.

[valaquia]

[brianeno]

[oneoftheniceones]

Paul McGann 11 / ?

[madgirlsinabluebox-blog]

“I’m not a child, don’t talk to me like I’m a child.”

[lamujerarana]

Dialogue from Big Finish’s Dead London

[oneoftheniceones]

I'm glad my Minuet in Hell cover is so popular, because guess what I could only think about all during my American History I final yesterday.

[oneoftheniceones]

A real Big Finish audio drama cover.

[paul-mcganns-ass]

Young Paul McGann.

[arkytiorforeman-archive-deactiv]

"No, I marry men you leave me with even though you barely knew ‘im for more than a week. David could’ve been a violent, jobless conqueror for all you knew."

[oneoftheniceones]

"I respect your life choices and ability to make decisions on your own. You would have been far angrier with me if I had selfishly kept you in the TARDIS for the rest of your life."

[arkytiorforeman-archive-deactiv]

susan does not approve of the ‘rules for dating my granddaughter’ list

[oneoftheniceones]

"You date violent jobless conquerors?"

[leliwardens]

my sister found this and i decided to share

[wordswithkittywitch]

#imagine all the doctors in a line walking by #whispering each of these to David

It’s even funnier because it’s numbered. It’s not a list, it’s a script.

[arkytiorforeman-archive-deactiv]

Grandfather no

[tardigrae-deactivated20140507]

noooo doctor dont be sad ):

happy!!!!!!!!! happy doct or !!!!!!!!!!! (: 

yay!!!!!!!!!!!!! (: (: (:

[brigwife-deactivated20240426]

thats not happy that’s fucking terrifying

[ferocitersubtilis-archive-blog]

Send one of the following for my muse's reaction

[oneoftheniceones]

"But that’s not possible!" 

"What a night." 

"You’re such a liar."

"Five more minutes" 

"How could you be so stupid?!"

"What’d you do that for?"

"I thought what we had was special.."

"…That’s disgusting." 

"But we promised." 

"When did you get that?"

"This was never about me."