Making History

RS October Plot List

2010-10-23T02:11:29Z

Three weeks ago(?)

What people really are / What we believe
Oliver - real
Sawako - real
Marta - real

Truth / Lies
Sirkka - truth
Suit Doctor - truth

What people are feeling / What people are thinking
Anonymous - feeling

Save self / Save everyone else
Isaac - everyone

World with magic / World with science
Box - science

Two weeks ago(?)

Unhappy Visions
Oliver
Brax

One week ago(?)

Got pie
Cricket Doctor
Oliver

Happy Visions
Oliver
Brax
Botta
Isaac
Donna

Unknown Time

Can go home
Damon

This will be updated as Oliver finds out more!

Ivory Maiden 7

2010-08-07T16:50:03Z

Title: The Ivory Maiden
Part: 7/7
Rating: PG
Word Count: 5382
Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
One last resounding thanks to vampydirector. I never could have gotten through this without you!

After a long moment of tense silence, Oliver gave a loud gasp, staggering and putting his hands to his head. At the same time, the crowd of people in the museum let out a collective sigh and all took a step forward, as though catching their balance. Then the room erupted with sound as all the men began to look around, crying out to one another in excitement and fright. Those who had been gazing at the statue turned away with startled gasps, putting up their hands to shield their eyes from it.

The Doctor smiled, his eyes twinkling, as he watched everyone in the room recovering. And even in such a busy room, one voice stood out to him from the rest of the crowd.

“Tirik?”

“Father!”

The Doctor let go of Tirik as a man with pale blue hair stepped away from the others, opening his arms for an overjoyed boy to run into them. When Tirik practically dove into his grasp, the man pulled him into a tight hug, ruffling his hair as he did so. “It’s so good to see you, Tirik,” he whispered.

“You too!” the boy declared, grinning happily through tears that were now flowing freely down his cheeks.

His father pulled back, looking him in the eyes. “And I’m so proud of you, my son.”

Tirik’s eyes widened in shock, but then he beamed at his father. The man smiled back, reaching up to wipe at the tears on the boy’s face before ruffling his hair again. As the Doctor watched, tears began to roll down the man’s cheeks, too, and both father and son laughed, needing no more words between them.

Knowing that Tirik was in good hands now, the Doctor shifted his attention to another important person in the room. Oliver was right where he had left him. In fact, he found that, throughout all of this, Oliver had only moved to lower his hands to his sides. The young man was now straightening, focusing a blank gaze on the statue.

The Doctor stepped over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Do you see?” he asked urgently, speaking directly into Oliver’s ear. “What does Oliver see? Or feel? Do you understand now? You’ve been hurting these people. You didn’t know what you were doing before, but you do now. Don’t continue. There’s another choice--take it.”

“I won’t take them back again, Doctor,” Oliver replied, his words soft but as smooth and flat as stone. Though the voice was Oliver’s, there was not even the barest hint of feeling or life in the words. “But if I could keep this one, there would be no need. There’s so much inside of him--so many places and things and experiences and feelings, and he so wants to help these people--and me.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened, and he seized Oliver by both arms now, looking directly into his friend’s eyes. “No! That’s not the solution. Oliver, do you hear me in there? Are you telling her you’d sacrifice yourself for these people? Because if you are, don’t!”

“But he would,” Oliver said. His eyes were blank, and he was still speaking in that tone that wasn’t his, but it sounded confused now. “If I would let them all go and keep only him, he would be happy for it.”

The Doctor’s eyes boggled, and his expression hardened. “No. No, he wouldn’t--no matter what he might think when you ask him like that!”

“Why not?”

“Why not!?” The Doctor sputtered. “I know you’ve only just begun to see true human interactions, but you can see into Oliver’s mind. Look at what human life means! As long as you have a hold on him, Oliver can’t live.”

Oliver--and the entity--were quiet for a moment after that, the young man’s eyes still vacant. The Doctor waited, making an imposing figure as he stood before his friend, his stormy gaze locked onto his. But the Doctor’s attention was soon caught by shouting from the men. He turned just in time to see several figures running out of the room as some of the newly-rescued Filiorans began to point and jeer at them.

“Pafos, don’t think you can run away from this!” the Doctor cried angrily after the group of women, his voice carrying above those of the others and startling several of them into silence. However, before he could say anything more, the entity began to speak again, and he focused back in on his friend.

“We will relive his experiences together.” The Doctor’s heart sank at those words, spoken in that voice that was Oliver’s but filled with too much disturbing calmness to truly be his. “He will not be hurt, and he will still experience life,” the entity continued. “An inner life, rather than the outside one that he had before. He would accept this sacrifice.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened. “He will not!” he boomed furiously.

“He would,” the entity replied, confused by his protest.

The Doctor’s nostrils flared, and he clenched his fists in frustration. “You don’t understand, do you?” he demanded, his eyes boring into Oliver’s. “No, of course not. You’re a gestalt entity! You’re just trying to solve your loneliness. But that’s not what you really want, is it?”

“We cannot be alone,” the entity insisted through Oliver’s lips.

“No, and you wouldn’t be--not if you could get back to the rest of yourself.” The Doctor gestured toward the sky. “That’s the ideal solution, isn’t it? Yes, I thought so,” he continued without waiting for a response. “But as it stands now, you’ll take any company you can get. You can tell that Oliver wants to help you, so you’ll take his company--force him to be company for you if you have to. But you don’t understand!”

The entity didn’t respond at first. The Doctor glared at it, waiting.

“You have not explained,” it said at last. “We are not forcing. He wants to help us.”

“Yes, yes, I know!” The Doctor waved a hand, sighing loudly. “Of course that’s true, but what he wants--what he really wants, for himself--is the same thing as you do. Can’t you see that inside him!?” He leaned toward Oliver until his face was mere inches from the younger man’s. “He doesn’t want to be alone. Except, for humans--just like Filiorans--it’s a bit different. They’re not a single entity. No, no, they need other humans--or other Filiorans--for their lives to be complete.”

Oliver gazed at him curiously, not even flinching at his proximity to the Doctor’s anger. “He has us.”

“That’s not the same!” the Doctor cried in frustration. He sighed, silent for a moment as Oliver watched him with dead eyes. An idea seemed to occur to him, however, and his expression brightened. He took a step back. “That’s it!” he cried. “Oliver! Think of Chloe Elliot.”

Oliver did not move, but for just an instant as the Doctor said the name, a spark of emotion crossed his eyes.

“Hah!” the Doctor declared triumphantly. “Do you see now? Do you see what you’re doing to him?”

Oliver’s expression twisted, worried now. “We do not understand. What do these feelings mean?” the entity asked.

“Humans,” the Doctor began, grinning, “are not gestalt entities. But even so, different ones are part of the same whole--and Oliver has left his perfect match a long, long way from here. Her name is Chloe Elliot, and he wants nothing more than to get back to her.” His smile grew a little sad as he noticed another flash of emotion cross Oliver’s eyes. “Do you understand now?” he pressed. “If you don’t let him go, you’ll be keeping him from her--forever. Would you do that? Is that how you repay someone just because you can tell they want to help you?”

The entity’s expression shifted to dismay for a moment--then desperation. “You could return him to her. She could join us,” it offered.

The Doctor’s eyes flared with anger again. “You’re not listening!” he boomed. “Being held in your mind is not life. Look at his memories of her! What do you see? What does he feel? Ask him if he wants to give her up forever. Or if he’d want to give her to you! Go on!”

“He wants to help,” the entity replied, but for the first time, there was tightness and hesitation in its words.

“At the cost of Chloe Elliot?” the Doctor pressed. “Of life with Chloe Elliot--real life?”

Oliver took a step back, away from the Doctor. “No.”

The Doctor stepped forward, staying close. “Then there’s your answer!”

“But we cannot be alone,” the entity argued, making another attempt to back away.

“You don’t have to be!” the Doctor cried, exasperated. “Just ask me!” His eyes softened, a grin creeping across his face. “I told you there was another choice.”

The entity frowned at him, still not understanding. After a moment’s struggle to make sense of the Doctor’s declaration, it asked, “What other choice? Who will you give us that will be any different?”

The Doctor moved into Oliver’s face again. Now his expression was deathly cold. “I won’t give you anyone,” he said, softly but harshly. “But,” he added, pulling back a bit, his grin returning as quickly as it had disappeared. “I can give you back to yourself.”

Oliver stared at the Doctor. “How?” the entity asked softly, disbelieving.

“You have to release him.”

“If I release him, we will no longer be able to communicate.”

The Doctor made a face. “Yes, well. I suppose you’re right But I’m sure Oliver won’t mind if it’s just a bit longer before you release him--especially knowing that you’re going to.”

The entity was quiet again for a moment. “We would trade him for ourselves,” it finally agreed.

The Doctor grinned. “Wonderful! Come along then, Oliver. We need to get some help moving two rather large pieces of sculpture back to the TARDIS.” As he motioned for Oliver to follow him toward the statue, the young man began to stiffly move forward.

As the Doctor threw a surprised and slightly disapproving glance at Oliver, Tirik’s father came up behind them, approaching a bit uncertainly. He had his son’s hand in his. “You’re going to get rid of it?” he asked. He didn’t meet the Doctor’s eyes, carefully keeping his gaze averted from the statue.

The Doctor turned with a grin. “Well, hello! You’re looking much better. Yes, we are, with a bit of--hm.” He frowned as he saw the problem. “One moment.” Withdrawing a container from his pocket, he reached out and spread a blob of gloopy, gelatin-like material under the man’s nose. “There we are. Now, who do you think we could get to help us move these statues?”

“Anyone,” the man said with feeling, daring to look up at the Doctor now. “You’ve saved us all!”

“I have?” The Doctor blinked, his eyes wide. “I have, haven’t I? Well, all in a day’s work, right, Oliver?”

The young man glanced at him in confusion, and the Doctor sighed. He leaned down to the level of Tirik’s father, putting a hand by his face as though he meant to whisper but speaking in as booming of a tone as ever. “He would be pointing out his role in all this if he could at the moment. I always have to make sure it doesn’t go to his head. Perhaps this is for the best. But I don’t usually do things quite single-handedly, I must admit.” He gave Tirik a wink.

The boy grinned at him, but then his expression grew more serious. “Your friend will be okay, won’t he?”

“Hm? Oliver? Oh yes. He’s very resilient, Oliver. And as long as he’s helping someone, I’m sure he won’t mind that it borrowed him for a bit.”

“But he’ll be himself again?” Tirik pressed. “Like my father?”

The Doctor grinned. “Very soon. Now, you’d better let us get to work. We need to pack up this statue for a very long trip.”

“Trip?” the boy asked. “Where are you taking it?”

The Doctor’s smile was warm. “Home, of course.”

***

The Doctor was silent as he strode into the ransacked house, a mute Oliver following closely behind him. Though he knew that all the stone would be in Pafos’ workshop, he had a different destination in mind to start with. Last time, as they had crossed the house on their way to the workshop, the entrance to some sort of side room had been just barely visible off to one side of the open kitchen. Now, the Doctor went straight for that nook. As he approached it, he could see pure white tile through its doorway, indicating a room likely meant for laundry and cleaning supplies.

The Doctor moved inside the room, motioning for Oliver to follow him. Once they had both entered, he put a finger to his lips before moving past the door and pushing it partway shut. The move revealed a woman, crouched behind the door with her knees held tightly against her chest, dirty hair streaking across her face in much the same manner as the bruises and dirt visible underneath the strands. She looked nothing like the cool, collected, carefully beautiful woman that they had spoken to the last time they’d come to this house. Now, despite her attempts to hide herself, a close look revealed that her makeup was smeared with dirt and tears and her white clothing was stained and torn. Her hair had mostly come loose from her braid, allowing it to fall into her face. Her hands, arms, and legs were all scratched, and her feet were bruised and now bare. The Doctor reached out a hand to help her sit up straight.

“Come to gloat?” the woman spat as she uncurled herself, batting his hand away and still managing to look defiant despite her pathetic state.

“No.”

“Then get out!” She sneered.

The Doctor shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. It’s as much time for you to go home as it is your alien friend.”

At those words, Pafos’ expression twisted with rage and suppressed emotion. “I don’t have a home anymore. You should know that!”

“Oh no, you do,” the Doctor replied easily. “You just didn’t like who you were there.”

Her eyes widened at that, her anger giving way to confusion for just a moment. “How do you know that?” she demanded. Her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t just the authorities, are you? Who are you really?”

The Doctor gave her a smile. “No, I’m not the authorities at all. I’m just another traveler. But I’ve met people like you before--many times.” A hint of sadness touched his eyes. “Come with me. There are better ways to deal with loneliness.”

The woman curled herself tighter into the corner. “No! If the authorities do find out about this, I’ll be imprisoned!”

The Doctor nodded. “But isn’t that better than what the Filiorans will do to you if you stay here? I certainly think so. Now come along.” More softly, he added, “I won’t ask you again.”

The woman glared at the Doctor a bit longer, and he easily met her gaze. Finally, reluctantly, she untangled herself, standing very slowly and with clear pain. “If you aren’t the authorities, you don’t know where I’m from,” she protested softly, sounding more like a petulant child than the powerful leader she had been only hours ago.

“Oh, I think I may have worked it out,” the Doctor replied, the twinkle returning to his eyes. “But first, you’re going to help us move a bust back to my TARDIS.”

“I could shatter it.”

The Doctor’s eyes flared, and in one smooth movement, he removed the scarf from around his neck and pinned the woman’s arms behind her back. He swiftly began to restrain them with the material. “I told you I wouldn’t ask you again,” he said. His anger was already hidden, his tone almost amiable. “But if you won’t help, then it’s time to go home--to the real authorities.”

The lady Pafos began to scream then, angry and hateful and defiant to the end. The Doctor ignored her, even as she continued to do so the whole way back through the house. As the Doctor and Oliver led her outside, however, the sound finally died in her throat.

“Hello there,” the Doctor greeted, giving a wave at the gathering crowd of suspicious women lining the street before them.

“I did it all for you,” the lady whispered as tears began to slide down her face.

The hatred in the women’s eyes was all the answer she needed. They began to jeer at her, and Pafos ducked her head in shame. The Doctor hurried her down the street, keeping himself and Oliver around her to discourage any thoughtless responses to her presence.

And for the first time, it was the lady Pafos who walked silently down the street, careful not to meet anyone else’s gaze.

***

“There we are, all the Lapidi stone safely stored away for its trip home,” the Doctor said with a smile as he emerged from the TARDIS.

A group of Filioran men followed behind him, blobs of gelatin still glistening under their noses. Two reached up to rub it away, but the others didn’t seem quite so ready to feel safe.

“I won’t ask how that shed can be so large,” Tirik’s father, Kiziv, said, his eyes still wide with awe. “You are something I don’t think we could understand, Doctor. But what will happen to us now?”

“Oh, I rather think that’s up to you,” the Doctor replied, giving the men a smile that belied the sternness in his eyes. “You’re free now. You can do whatever you wish.”

“With limitations.”

“Hm?” the Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow as though he weren’t sure he’d heard the man properly.

“Don’t play us for fools, Doctor.” Kiziv’s gaze was every bit as serious as the Doctor’s own. “You saw what happened with the women, and you heard what the goddess--what Pafos--said. We have abused our power over the women. Haven’t we?”

The Doctor just looked back at him. “Think about what you know, Kiziv. Do you think that’s what you’ve done? Or even if ‘power over the women’ is what you should have?”

The man frowned, his expression stormy. “I know very little about them, or how they live. But maybe that is the proof of our mistakes. They come for the festival, and that is all we think of them. But the gifts they bring, the work they do with the children--they must think of us often. And I have seen signs of care on their bodies. They work hard. But we do as well, don’t we? Is it really so different?”

“Well,” the Doctor said, his eyes beginning to twinkle. “You could always find out for yourself.”

“But that is-”

“Freedom, Kiziv,” the Doctor interrupted with his booming voice. “The ability to do whatever you wish. It might just be more of an opportunity than you’re giving it credit for.”

“Yes...perhaps...” Kiziv turned his attention to his son. A warm smile touched his lips, and he reached down to ruffle his hair.

Tirik made a face at him. “Father!”

Kiziv laughed. “He has his mother’s eyes,” he remarked to the Doctor. “I think...I would like to see that woman again. She was kind and gentle.”

“Then what’s to stop you?” the Doctor asked through a toothy grin.

“What are you proposing?” came a voice from behind them--flat and smooth, Oliver’s but not. “We do not understand, but this Oliver is glad for it. What do these changes mean?”

“Hopefully, they mean avoiding any further nonsense like this,” the Doctor remarked. “And Oliver knows what he’s talking--er, thinking about. He saw Sorodum with me, not to mention enough other divided societies to know that it never works for everyone’s benefit. But I think the people of Filioris have their own lessons to learn, now.” He gave Tirik and his father a quick look, his eyes sharp but his expression smiling, before turning to Oliver. “It’s about time we kept our bargain, don’t you think?”

“Are you leaving now?” Tirik asked, looking up at the Doctor earnestly. “Will you come back? Maybe for the festival?”

The Doctor made a face. “Ah yes, well, I think that’s probably not the best plan. And...” He leaned closer to the boy before whispering in a still-booming voice, “I wouldn’t want to give Oliver here any ideas.” He straightened, smiling pleasantly. “Come along, Oliver. It’s time to finish your errand.”

Oliver obediently began to walk toward the Doctor, but Tirik cried out in dismay.

“Wait! When will you come back?”

The Doctor paused, turning back to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Oliver and I fix things around the universe, Tirik. And I think your father and the people here have gotten enough help already. It’s up to them to take it from here, whatever they choose to do.”

“We’ll do this right,” Kiziv assured him, putting an arm around his son’s shoulders. “Thank you, Doctor. And thanks to your friend.”

“Yes, well, all in a day’s work.” He adjusted his hat, smiling, before he turned and started back toward the TARDIS, Oliver following silently behind.

“Good-bye, Doctor!” Tirik called after him. “Be careful! And don’t forget to keep jelly babies with you!”

The Doctor gave a booming laugh, turning back to the boy. “I wouldn’t dream of it!” Then he disappeared inside the door, Oliver entering closely after him. As soon as the door had closed, a vworping noise filled the street. Both Tirik’s and his father’s jaws dropped as they watched the Doctor’s amazing shed fade out of existence.

“Well,” Kiziv said after a long moment of staring. “We have work to start on. Are you ready to help?”

Tirik looked up at his father in surprise before breaking out in a wide grin. “Yes!”

***

“I’ve kept my part of the bargain,” the Doctor boomed as he and Oliver set the statue down on the rock outcropping in front of the TARDIS, near the other gathered pieces of stone. “It’s time for you to keep yours.”

“Yes,” the entity agreed, to the Doctor’s relief. “It is time for us to return home.”

“Without him,” the Doctor prompted.

“Yes,” the entity repeated. However, Oliver’s expression did not change, and he continued to stand immobile next to the statue.

The Doctor found himself beginning to impatiently tap his foot. “Lapidi-”

“We know,” the entity interrupted. “We would like...” It paused, frowning as it struggled for words. “We are trying to understand human experience. We think we would like--that this one would like--to say good-bye.”

The Doctor’s eyes flared with anger. “He’s not leaving!” he thundered.

The entity flinched, taking a step back. “No, but we are leaving. He would like to say good-bye to us. We...perhaps...we would like to say good-bye to you?” It was far more of a question than a statement, but that might have had more to do with the unnerving glare that the Doctor was currently directing at it than anything else.

The Doctor relaxed visibly at that, however. “Ah yes, I suppose I can understand,” he said with a nod. “Good-bye, then. And see that you don’t allow another disaster to separate you from yourself. I can understand the need to flee from acid rains once, but it had best not happen again on your new planet, or your leaders and I may need to have words.”

The entity was confused. “We did not cause the disaster.”

The Doctor sighed. “No, no, it was your nosy neighbors, wasn’t it? Isn’t that always the way! But a better understanding of different lifeforms could have prevented that misunderstanding. Do you see that now?”

The entity was silent for a moment, gazing at the Doctor through Oliver with troubled eyes. Finally, it softly agreed. “Yes. We see that.”

“Then share the knowledge!” the man declared. “You’d be surprised how much a bit of knowledge can do to maintain peace.”

“We will,” the entity promised. “Good-bye, Doctor. And good-bye to this one, this Oliver.” It paused, as if ready to stop there but reconsidering at the last moment. “Thank you,” it added.

The Doctor grinned. “It’s always a pleasure to get to know a new race. Well, almost always. And in this case, yes, I think it has been. Now then, on your way.”

Oliver gave a solemn nod, and then he abruptly staggered, nearly losing his balance. The Doctor took a quick step forward, grabbing him by the shoulders to steady him as Oliver put a hand to his head.

“That...was weird,” the young man murmured blearily.

“As astute an observation as ever, Oliver,” the Doctor remarked, helping his companion to get his footing before carefully letting go of him.

“Yeah, I’d like to hear how...astute...you sound when you’ve just spent a few...hours?...having your head scrambled by an alien that communicates through psychic waves,” Oliver mumbled.

“Yes, well, I think we’ve had enough of that for one day. Don’t you?”

Oliver just looked at him incredulously.

The Doctor smiled cheerfully. “I thought as much. Come along, then. Back to the TARDIS.” The Doctor put a hand on Oliver’s arm, helping to keep him steady as they both made their way back across the outcropping and into the waiting blue box.

Once they were safely inside, the Doctor went straight for the controls, setting for them to take off into the vortex.

Oliver hovered closely behind him, his expression troubled. He put one hand on the console to keep himself standing through the remaining vestiges of dizziness after his possession. “Doctor?” he asked.

The man didn’t look up. “Hm?”

Oliver scratched his head sheepishly with his free hand. “I still don’t get what happened,” he admitted.

The Doctor turned halfway round, raising an eyebrow at him. His expression was incredulous. “You had the alien consciousness in your mind, and you don’t understand what it was doing?”

Oliver made a face. “Not that! I got that. I mean, what I don’t get is why all the people connected to the statue listened to you just like they listened to it.”

The Doctor just looked at him for a moment, as if asking how he could possibly have failed to work the answer out on his own. “Because I was immune to its control, of course,” he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Oliver blinked at him. “And that made them listen to you because...?” he pressed.

The Doctor gave a long-suffering sigh. “Because Pafos meant for the statue to make men follow orders, but rather than organizing the much more complicated scenario of gender-based obedience, they simply listened to anyone who was unaffected by the psychic energy. Which, unexpectedly for Pafos, included Time Lords. Got it?”

“Oh.” Oliver considered that. “Yeah.”

“And don’t think I don’t have a question or two for you about what happened, Oliver Day,” the Doctor added.

Oliver blanched at the Doctor’s tone. “Like what?”

“Oh, like wondering what could have made you think that making a peace sign with one hand was a less-than-obvious way to communicate to me that you were only pretending to be under the statue’s control,” he replied casually.

Oliver couldn’t help a faint smile at that, but the Doctor’s expression immediately darkened.

“And, more importantly,” he added. “To ask where, in that tiny mind of yours, it could ever possibly sound like a good idea to make it clear to an alien entity with no understanding of biological interaction that you would be willing to give anything--even your very existence--for the sake of its whims.”

Oliver swallowed hard, shrinking back a step under the Doctor’s gaze. “I never said that!” he protested. “It was just...reading my mind, and I told it I wanted to help it, and then it flashed through a whole bunch of my memories and starting saying all that! I didn’t say any of it!”

The Doctor gave him a flat look.

“And you can’t tell me you wouldn’t’ve done the same!” Oliver added.

“That’s beside the point!” the Doctor boomed.

Oliver pouted. “You’re not the only one around here who wants to save the universe.”

The Doctor just sighed at that, stepping away to hang up his hat. When he moved back toward the console, his expression was unreadable. “One of these days, Oliver Day, you will learn to appreciate the value of your own life.”

“I do!” Oliver argued.

The Doctor said nothing, his expression stormy.

Oliver made a face, trying to come up with a way to break the tension. “Doctor,” he said after a moment. “Do you think the Filiorans are gonna be okay?”

The Doctor pursed his lips thoughtfully at that. “They have a lot of changes to make,” he said. “Change is never easy. But if there are more men like Tirik and his father, then yes, I think they will be.”

Oliver nodded, smiling faintly at that assessment. “Yeah, but...” He frowned. “What about those other men? We never really got to know them. Or the women. I hope they can work together.”

“Yes, well, you’d be surprised what men and women can do together, Oliver,” the Doctor replied absently as he fiddled with the controls. “Especially when they’ve been kept apart for too long.”

Oliver smiled a little wistfully. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll find out,” he said, smirking faintly.

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow at him, then made a face, and then decided to change the subject. “We also have the benefit of being able to watch the news headlines,” he added. “Or, if you’re really concerned, we could always pop back there in thirty years or so.”

“Whoa!” Oliver laughed. “No, I think I’ve had enough of Filioris for today, thanks. I don’t really want to meet Tirik as a kid and then when he’s older than me within a few hours.”

“If you say so.” The Doctor turned his attention back to the controls.

Oliver rolled his eyes, watching for a moment before he couldn’t resist asking another question. “Hey, what happened to that Pafos, anyway?”

The Doctor’s cloudy expression immediately returned. “I took her home.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, not sure what to make of that. “And where’s that?”

“Oliver!” The Doctor looked up at his companion in dismay. “Didn’t you see the connections? Her attitude, her aspirations? The style of dress and architecture that she brought to Filioris?”

“‘Course I did!” Oliver protested defensively, putting his hands up in front of him as if to ward off an attack. “But she’d traveled there from another world! She couldn’t possibly have been from Ancient Greece or Rome on Earth.” He paused at the look on the Doctor’s face. “Could she?”

The Doctor shook his head. “No, they were much too primitive. But if a sect of Greeks from during the Roman Empire was accidentally transported to another planet and began a colony-”

“Whoa, stop right there!” Oliver cried. “You mean a bunch of Ancient Greeks got stranded in space?”

“Not ‘a bunch.’ But yes, basically, that is what I mean.”

Oliver burst out laughing. “Now there’s a story Ovid would’ve loved! Metamorphosis of the whole planet!”

The Doctor looked scandalized. “Nothing happened to Earth! I made sure of that.”

Oliver chuckled. “Yeah, but I mean, a new planet would’ve seemed like...oh, nevermind!” He shook his head with a smile. “Let’s just get going to our next destination.” He gestured at one of the switches in front of the Doctor.

The man raised an eyebrow, flicking it. The central column came to life. “Good on you, Oliver. It seems you are learning.”

“All part of being human!” Oliver declared with a grin. “And before you say it, I know, Time Lords are infinitely cleverer than we are. But we’re not so bad in the end, are we?”

“Not at times,” the Doctor conceded with a twinkle in his eye. “Not at times.”

Ivory Maiden 6

2010-08-06T19:58:54Z

Title: The Ivory Maiden
Part: 6/7
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3351
Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Thanks yet again to my fantastic beta vampydirector, as well as to vigor_di_vita for giving me additional help on a difficult scene.

Oliver was only dimly aware of the Doctor’s exhortation. He couldn’t take his eyes off the statue--especially its face. It was beautiful. The face was that of a woman’s, with a neatly curved nose, high cheekbones, and an elegant expression. Even more alluring than those features, however, were her eyes. Her eyes seemed to bore right into him. They were full of life in a way that a statue shouldn’t be, as if it were a real woman looking at him. No, he realized--she was a real woman; he could feel her eyes on him and hear her calling to him, asking him to stay with her.

He started to agree--to tell her that she was amazing and of course he’d be glad to stay. But a thought came to him then, though it was dim and distant at first. It whispered that staying was wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be here with her; there was something else waiting for him. And someone was yelling at him--wanting his attention. Someone important. He had to...he had to what? He had to save...

No. He could hear the statue, speaking calmly and firmly in his mind, and her words felt so...right. He didn’t need to do anything. If he just stayed with her, then everything would be fine.

But it wasn’t fine. He wiggled his nose. Something smelled odd, and it was distracting. Distracting like that other voice, demanding his attention, reminding him...about...

Images flashed into his mind then--memories tied to the words he was distantly hearing. Memories about this world. He was a visitor here, wasn’t he? Of course he was. He was a traveler. But why was that-

Wait.

He realized then that the statue was still speaking to him. Her thoughts had been soft in his mind, flowing so easily that they were mixing with his own, but now she was confused. Her question had become so insistent that he could hear it clearly, interrupting him. She wanted to know what traveler meant.

He wondered why she was asking that, but he ignored the niggling doubts in his mind for the moment--as well as the strange, distracting smell. He wanted to please her, so he focused on explaining what she wanted to know instead. He told her that traveler meant he went from place to place--and time to time.

He could feel her surprise at that, though he didn’t understand it. He really did travel from time to time, he explained, and yeah, that was unusual for his people. Didn’t she know? Where he was from, it was unusual enough for people to go from world to world. But traveling through time--he only got to do that because of the Doctor.

The Doctor! A realization hit Oliver at that thought, followed by more images flashing through his mind--a man in a coat and extremely long, multi-colored scarf, with curly hair and big teeth. A friend. Someone very important. He was the voice, calling to him now. Oliver ignored the statue’s protests, struggling to hear that voice. The Doctor was telling him that he could help. That he could do something...where the Doctor couldn’t? No, that wasn’t possible. The Doctor could help anyone with anything. It was what he did.

A sudden change in the statue’s tone brought his attention back to her. She was asking now, with a hint of desperation--of need--if he really meant anyone. Even her?

Oliver didn’t even have to consider his response. Of course! What did she need?

Because his desire to help her matched her desire for help, the voice began to flow with his thoughts again, her questions and his answers merging together. Company? Just that? What about going home? Didn't she want that?

He could feel the emotion in her response--the sadness and the resignation--as though he were experiencing it himself. Quickly, he tried to counter it. No, it couldn’t be impossible. Nothing ever was. She only needed to ask the Doctor. He’d know a way.

But that offer didn’t make the statue feel any better. He asked her why, desperate to help her--to make her happy. But her response confused him. She couldn’t talk to the Doctor? Why not? Oliver’s thoughts were perplexed by her reply. Not even she knew why she couldn’t reach him.

But it only took a moment for the answer to occur to him: it had to be because the Doctor was a Time Lord. The Doctor had even mentioned something about that making him immune to the statue. At the statue’s next question, Oliver admitted that he didn’t really know what being a Time Lord meant, but he was sure it was the reason. And he quickly added that this didn’t have to stop the Doctor from helping her. Really, it wasn’t a problem at all. All it meant was that he’d have to ask the Doctor for her.

Her response was even more intense this time, holding a vehemence borne from fright. She would have to let Oliver go for him to speak to the Doctor, and she couldn’t do that.

Feeling her fear, he protested, assuring her that she didn’t have to be afraid of letting him go. He wouldn’t leave. He promised he wouldn’t. He could sense her skepticism, so he insisted. Really, he wouldn’t. There was no trick to it; he just wanted to help.

How did she know he wasn’t lying? He was surprised by that question. Well, she’d have to trust him. And what would he gain by leaving anyway?

She continued her protests, but he wouldn’t give up either. After all, he was the only one who could talk to her--really talk to her--so of course he wouldn’t just leave her forever. And maybe there was a way for her to talk through him?

But the statue’s thoughts had paused at his previous answer. She didn’t know what he meant. What about the others? The room was full of people that she was talking to.

He frowned at that, not understanding her either. She wasn’t talking to the others. How could she think she was? She was just leading them--guiding how they acted. Couldn’t she see how she changed them? They weren’t thinking; they weren’t talking like he and the statue were. They were just blindly following her wishes.

Oliver’s mind was troubled by her response--at the genuine confusion expressed through her thoughts. She didn’t think she was doing anything to them. But how could she not know? He could easily see exactly what she was doing.

The smell began to distract him again, bringing more images--more memories--into his thoughts. He’d seen people being used before, and he knew it wasn’t right. He wanted to make the statue happy, yes, but he could see now that what she was doing was wrong. And knowing that, he couldn’t let her continue.

The statue’s protest was immediate and painful in its emotional intensity. If she didn’t talk to the people here, she would be alone, and Oliver could feel every bit of her horror at that thought. He understood it, right down to his core--perhaps better than most people would understand it. He knew what it meant to be lonely. And he didn’t want her to be alone--he wouldn’t wish that on anyone--but he couldn’t let her control these men either. There had to be a better way for her to have company. And he would find it! She just needed to let go of him. Just a bit, so he could talk to the Doctor, and then he’d come back and talk to her. Wouldn’t she let him try?

Despite a lingering sense of uncertainty from the statue, the room finally came back into focus around him. Relieved, Oliver tried to turn his head away from the statue, but he couldn’t at first. He frowned, concentrating, and with a great force of will, he managed to turn to the Doctor. He found the man still yelling at him.

“Doctor,” he interrupted. He was surprised to notice that his voice sounded shaky and felt a little...distant. Detached. There was something else in the foreground of his mind--a pressure. A presence.

“Oliver!” The Doctor broke off what he had been saying, giving him a wide grin. “Have you been talking with our friend on the pedestal?”

“Yeah,” Oliver replied, fighting to focus on the man. His voice was coming out all wrong--flatter than it should be--but it seemed impossible to speak any other way, as though the presence in his mind were holding some part of him back. “She wants company. And she wishes she could go home.”

“Does she?” the Doctor asked curiously. “That’s understandable. And where does she consider home? Her planet of origin, perhaps?”

Before he could answer, Oliver became aware of another person in the room outside his mind--a woman. She was speaking, loudly and harshly, demanding his attention. Why was she being so emotional? The presence in his mind didn’t understand. He asked the statue to be quiet so he could listen to what the woman had to say, hoping to be able to explain.

“The Maiden has a new home!” the woman cried. “She lives here now. She’s happy here!”

As he looked at the woman, taking in her normal human stature, her dark hair, and her white clothing, he realized that he knew her. She was the lady Pafos, who he had learned was conniving and cruel. She was lying.

But the statue knew the lady as well, and she started to ask him to explain those thoughts. However, the woman continued speaking, her loud words blotting out their thoughts for the moment.

“She can have all the company she wants here!” Pafos continued. “And what can you give her? A long trip in darkness and loneliness.” She spat the words at the Doctor, her gaze fiery, before turning to the statue. Her eyes immediately filled with pleas. “Don’t listen to him, Maiden! Don’t let their tricks mislead you! Think of all I’ve done for you.”

Oliver had only just started to open his mouth to respond when the Doctor interrupted. His words weren’t half so emotional nor dramatic as Pafos’, but Oliver wanted to listen to him, and so the statue listened as well.

The Doctor was scoffing at Pafos’ claims. “Oliver isn’t in the business of misleading anyone,” he broke in, looking at the woman as though he were surprised by her outburst--surprise that Oliver, and therefore the Maiden, knew to be exaggerated. “And even if he were, he couldn’t. Not right now. Now when his mind is connected to the Lapidi’s. Unlike your mind, Pafos.” His look of surprise disappeared as quickly as it had come, his gaze taking on the glint of an edge. “Your mind that she can touch but not connect to--your female mind that protects you.”

Pafos gasped at those words, her eyes widening in rage. She glared at the Doctor, pointing a finger at Oliver accusingly. “We can talk just as he can! I haven’t lied to the Maiden!”

“But she doesn’t understand men,” Oliver spoke up, unable to help himself, as confused as he was by her declaration. Or was it only the presence inside him that was confused? It was hard to tell, the way their thoughts were mixing. “She doesn't know they think like women do. She believes they’re always flat, just staring and walking and not really living. Why did you make her think that?”

The woman’s gaze snapped to Oliver’s in alarm. “I did no such thing!" she cried, aghast.

Why does she keep yelling?

Oliver had opened his mouth to respond to Pafos, but he stopped at that interruption, going slightly rigid as he found himself getting lost in his mind again. He protested, but the statue had questions, and she wanted his full attention to be on answering them. So he gave up and instead tried to explain that yelling was something people did when they were angry or afraid. Oliver thought Pafos was afraid, but the statue didn’t understand why she would be. And was he really sure that she had been lying?

Oliver considered that question, his eyes watching the lady with a somewhat detached curiosity now that his mind could no longer focus on her properly. Maybe she wasn’t lying, he admitted, but she certainly seemed to be.

But before he could explain why he thought so, an idea occurred to him that put him off that train of thought. He couldn’t resist first asking the statue why she hadn’t thought Pafos might be lying before now. Why had she just listened to her and done as she’d asked?

We could never have imagined such an action.

Oliver couldn’t help the flood of surprise that flowed through his thoughts at her answer, even though he could see that every word the statue was speaking was the truth. He could feel it. Lapidi didn’t lie. In fact, he knew now--from the statue’s thoughts--that they didn’t even have a concept for lying. It didn’t exist on their world!

But that left him even more confused than before. Hoping to make him understand so Oliver would tell her more about Pafos, the statue explained that she only knew about lying because he did; she was learning about it through their connection. It was something humans did--she understood that now. So she asked again, how did he know that Pafos was lying?

Oliver struggled for a way to express how he knew. She was defensive, for one. And she had definitely kept information about how men lived from the statue. She had wanted to hide what she was really doing, not only from the men, but from the statue herself. And hiding information like that was lying already. If she’d lied about that, she was likely lying about other things, too. She probably needed to in order to protect whatever it was she was really trying to do.

The statue was distressed by those thoughts and, he could feel--to his dismay--reluctant to believe him. After all, Pafos had never tried to explain men to her, only encouraged her to meet them. And how could she know that Oliver wasn’t lying now? After all, he was human, and humans lied. So how could she trust his thoughts about Pafos’ reaction?

Oliver tried to reassure her. He didn’t like to lie--hadn’t she heard the Doctor say that? And she could see anything she wanted about Oliver, couldn’t she? She just had to look, and she’d know he wasn’t lying. And as far as Pafos was concerned, the more he thought about it, the more sure he was. He might not be able to explain it--not enough for the statue to be certain--but she could tell there was more going on with the men than what Pafos had told her, couldn’t she? And if she just allowed him to talk to Pafos a bit more, he promised everything would become clear. Really. He would make sure of it.

With that said, he gave another pull with his mind. The statue understood, and to his relief, she let him bring himself blearily back into reality. He found Pafos staring at him with a defiant look on her face, her lip curled.

“No. You lied,” Oliver said before she could protest again. This time, his voice was filled with flatness that was due to his growing certainty. “That’s why you chose this world, isn’t it?” he added. Now that he wasn’t experiencing the statue’s constant questioning, he could think more clearly. The facts were falling into place even as he said the words. “This world is a place where men and women live separately. A place where power over the men could convince the women to give you power. That’s all you really want, isn’t it? Power.” Oliver stopped, and his blank expression shifted just slightly, his eyes coming to life. He wasn’t sure if the sudden rush of pity was his or the statue’s or both, but he felt it all the same. “That’s sad,” he said softly.

At that, the lady Pafos’ defiant expression shifted until it seemed almost alive with fury. Her eyes were burning, her face flushed and her beautiful features contorted with rage. “You are twisting everything!” she fairly screeched.

“Then explain it,” Oliver pressed. “Why are you making these people prisoners?”

“I. Am. Not,” Pafos spat. “I am keeping them safe and keeping order in a society that didn’t have any. You didn’t see what it was like before I came! The men treated the women like their slaves--forced to come once a year and do whatever they were asked. The men had all the luxury, all the power, all the control. This was a broken world before I came. Look at it now! See what it’s like now!”

“We can see,” the Doctor spoke up. His voice was somehow both soft and booming at the same time, and his grim words filled the open room. “Now, the town is dead.”

Pafos’ eyes bulged. “Dead?” she scoffed. “It’s not dead. Look at all these people!” She swept a hand out toward the nearby men, every one of which was blankly watching the statue as events unfolded before them. “Do they look dead?” she pressed. “They sleep, they eat, they talk. The only thing they lack is unhappiness--and control over the women! You’re with the authorities, aren’t you, Doctor? You of all people should want exactly what I do. You should want what I’m creating--an end to unhappiness and oppression!”

“No!”

Everyone turned in surprise at the outburst from behind them. It took a great force of will--and a hurried explanation to the statue--for Oliver to be able to turn, but when he did, he found that Tirik had unwrapped the scarf from around his eyes. Shaking slightly in fear, the boy took a step toward the statue, looking straight at it. His hands were balled into fists, and his lip was quivering. “Maybe we don’t know if...if they’re unhappy, but...they definitely aren’t happy either!” he cried, addressing not Pafos, but instead the silent figure of a woman that stood before him. “They aren’t anything. That’s...that’s wrong.” He paused, still trembling, and took a deep breath to renew his courage before he continued. “My father’s right over there,” he said. “And I’ve been alone and...and scared.” His eyes began to glisten with moisture as he gestured at the blue-haired man, standing immobile with the others. “And it’s like he doesn’t even care,” he breathed, his words catching on a lump in his throat. “And...he should care. He would!”

Once the Doctor had picked up his scarf, slinging it around his shoulders, he stepped toward the boy, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “And he’d be very proud of you right now, if he could see you fighting for him,” he said.

As Oliver watched, frozen by the statue’s desire to hear every word, Tirik looked up at the man with tears in his eyes. “But he can’t, can he?” the boy asked softly.

“Oh, I think he does see you,” the Doctor replied with a reassuring smile. “He just can’t show it--not yet.”

Tirik swallowed hard, focusing his gaze on his father. “But will he?” he asked softly. “Will they let him go?”

“I hope to, Tirik. I hope so.” The Doctor turned slowly when he said those words, first looking directly into Oliver’s eyes and then into the statue’s.

“Let everyone go.” Oliver’s voice was soft, strained, as he struggled to get the words out despite the presence pressing down on his mind. “Please. They’ll talk to you. You can hear them through me. Let everyone else go, and you’ll see what we mean. I promise!”

And, for a silent moment, everyone waited for the statue’s response.

Personal Permissions for realityshifted

2010-07-08T22:26:00Z

Since his death on the Plane, regular-human Oliver has gained an ability! While he maintains eye contact with a person, he feels the emotions that they are feeling. Info about this is also described here.

So, my question to you is this:

☆Would Oliver be able to sense the emotions of your character?

If so, while tagging please give me an idea of what their general emotions are at the time and if, for some reason, eye contact is not possible/not happening. Thanks much!

Drabble

2010-07-06T16:10:19Z

After being invited for the first round of deathmatches, Oliver hatches a plan.

When he first arrived back home from the Plane, Oliver checked the entire flat before he did anything else. He knew everything should be just as he’d left it last time, but he had to make sure he was alone. It didn’t take long to check that Anna wasn’t home, and they were still out of bread and milk, so she must still be at the store. She’d only just left before he’d returned to the Plane last time, after all.

He sighed, not entirely sure whether to feel relieved or resigned. In any case, it wouldn’t take Anna long at the store, so if he was going to do this, he needed to do it now.

He opened a drawer in the kitchen, fumbling with the contents of it. He felt foolish putting plastic wrap over his hands, but he didn’t own any gloves, and it was the best he could think of. He couldn’t risk getting Anna into trouble, after all. Once his hands were covered, he made his way to their bedroom, walking straight to Anna’s chest of drawers and opening the top one. He dug through the clothing carefully, revealing the item he knew she kept there. He paused, looking down at the open drawer before him, and debated once again if he should really be doing this. But what other choice did he have?

As his mind went to what was waiting for him on the Plane, he couldn’t help but think that it might be a good idea to catch Anna at the store as soon as he’d finished here. It would be good to see her one more time, and it wasn’t like the item would be missed that quickly. He could pop in, talk to her, and pop out to the Plane, and time would freeze anyway.

But he knew that thought was foolish--not in the least because of what he’d have with him--and he firmly reminded himself, for probably the hundredth time already, that death on the Plane was only temporary. He wasn’t really going to die. He’d see Anna again soon enough, and she’d never even have to know that any of this had happened.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the gun with his covered hands, staring down at it in some degree of awe and horror. He’d never carried a gun before. Guns made it too easy to kill people, and even in all his travels with the Doctor, to so many new and dangerous places, that had never been his intention.

No, that wasn’t quite true. It had been--but only once. And he’d been told time and again by plenty of people afterwards that it hadn’t been his decision--nor his desire--at all. Still, those memories only solidified his resolve. If he had to participate in a deathmatch on the Plane, then he would at least go prepared. But he couldn’t ask anyone on the Plane for a weapon--he didn’t want anyone to know what he was planning--so Anna’s gun would have to be it. It was the only real weapon he had access to on Gondovan.

He didn’t want to imagine how Anna would react if she had even an inkling of what he was up to right now, but he reminded himself yet again that his death would be temporary, and then he could just pop back in and replace the gun. Anna would be at the store, and no one would be the wiser. Simple. Easy. It was supposed to be, at least.

With another deep breath, he slid the gun into the bag he was carrying, checking to make sure the safety was on before he did so. It would do him no good to get himself killed before this began, after all. He doubted the authorities on the Plane would give his opponent a reprieve even if that happened.

He closed the drawer again, about to turn and leave, but a photo on top of the chest caught his eye. He picked it up, looking down for a moment at the rotating images of himself and Anna. She was always so happy when he was happy--truly happy, anyway; she could read him like a book when he was faking. It was like his happiness made her own troubles irrelevant. What would she think if she knew what he was preparing to do? No, he knew the answer to that. But maybe the question he should be asking was what she would think if she knew the choice he had been given...

He fingered the picture, touching Anna’s face. He was making the right choice. He knew he was. And as upset as his friends would be with it, he knew there was nothing else he could do. He wasn’t going to kill someone else just because the Plane wished it, and he certainly didn’t plan to let them both die. No, Oliver knew exactly what he had to do. He was either going to let his opponent kill him, or he was going to kill himself. There was no real choice here. He wasn’t the Puppeteer, and he never would be again.

And if that meant he had to die in this match, then being himself to the end, without giving up on his caring of people or his refusal to hurt them, was something worth dying for.

Oliver set the picture back down, swallowing against the lump in his throat. He felt the bag, checking for the weight that he knew was in it. Then, with one more deep breath for courage, he sent himself back to the Plane. It would all be over soon.

Ivory Maiden 5

2010-06-18T16:21:38Z

Title: The Ivory Maiden
Part: 5/7
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3691
Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Thanks yet again to my fantastic beta vampydirector!

Tirik could only stare in shock, mouth gaping, at the sight of Oliver and his captors--not to mention at the Doctor’s nonchalant response to it.

The Doctor, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate in the least before he strode right up next to the entourage, keeping pace with them as they went. “I see waiting at the edge of town was a bit much for you,” he remarked conversationally.

Oliver paused in his struggling, shocked. “Doctor?” He turned his head, trying to see as best he could despite the hands gripping him, and broke out in a grin at the sight of the man. “It is you! Hey, mind asking them to let me down?”

“Of course it’s me. Who else would it be?” the Doctor retorted. “And not at the moment, no. Don’t worry, they’ll let you go soon enough.”

If Oliver’s expression had been shocked before, that was nothing compared to how it looked now. “What!?”

“Was that not clear enough? I’ll try again. No, Oliver, I’m afraid I’m not going to let you down. You’ll have to wait for your friends here to do that instead.”

Oliver gaped at him, almost too confused to speak. “But...why?”

“Think about it!” the Doctor said. “We need to go back to the museum anyway, and since everyone seems so intent on bringing you there, there’s really no point in fighting them on this, now is there?”

Oliver stared for a moment. Then, dismayed, he began a new bout of protests. “But I can’t go back there! Not with them! They’re just gonna make me look at that statue again, and then I won’t be able to help anybody!”

The Doctor tsked at him. “Calm down, would you? You’re not going to be under the influence of that statue again.”

“And how’s that?” Oliver demanded angrily. “Trying to hold my eyes shut is never gonna work against all these people!”

The Doctor looked hurt. “I’m surprised at you, Oliver. All this time traveling with me, and you really don't think I would have worked out a way around that by now? Especially when I had a chance to use the TARDIS’ instruments to help!”

“You...” Oliver started. Then he trailed off, ceasing his struggling again. “You did? How?”

The Doctor held a small, open container out to him. “Rub a bit of this under your nose.”

Oliver gave him a look. “In case you hadn’t noticed...”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow before seeming to remember that Oliver’s arms were quite pinned. “Oh, yes, of course. Your friends. Here you go, then.” He coated his own finger in a goopy, viscous solution, rubbing a large blob of it under Oliver’s nose. “Just don’t wipe that off,” he instructed sternly as he replaced the cap and put the container back in his pocket.

Oliver decided it was best not to give him another reminder about his hands. “I won’t,” he promised instead. He frowned at the smell coming off of the substance. It was almost like... “What is this stuff?”

“Gelatin,” the Doctor replied with a grin. “With a few added ingredients, of course. As long as you’re able to smell this, the statue’s psychic control won’t be able to seize your mind.”

Despite his predicament, Oliver couldn’t help a laugh and a wry smile. “You’re going to save this world with jelly babies after all.”

“In a way,” the Doctor agreed. “Nothing to be surprised about, considering the beneficial properties of gelatin.” But the man, surprisingly, let his explanation go at that. He turned his head, his attention seeming to have been drawn away by something else.

It was hard for Oliver to see from his vantage point, especially with all the bouncing up and down as they moved, but he did manage to turn to an angle where he could see the approaching building. They had nearly reached the museum.

“What do I do once we get in there?” he asked nervously.

“Oh, I shouldn’t think you’ll have to do much to begin with,” the Doctor said, glancing at Oliver’s captors. “They’ll take you to the statue, of course. All you should have to worry about is that you don’t show too quickly that you haven’t been affected. We don’t need Pafos to find that out any sooner than she has to.” He narrowed his eyes.

Oliver blinked. “What, you think if this lot finds out, she’d like...psychically communicate with them about it? But if she can do that, wouldn’t she know what we’re up to already?”

The Doctor shook his head, exasperated. “Not these people, Oliver! They have no wills of their own at the moment. No, the only one she can communicate with is the statue itself.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, staring at him. “Uh...mind explaining that one?”

The Doctor sighed, but as usual dove into his explanation with vigor. “You said it yourself! You called it ‘Galatea’--a name associated with the story of Pygmalion but never used in it. The actual Galatea was a character in a different one of Ovid’s Metamorphoses. But that name, Galatea, in more modern contexts--modern by your standards, at least--relates not only to the statue in Ovid’s story but any statue that comes to life.”

Oliver stared a bit more, thinking about that for a moment. “You mean I said that because I knew the statue was alive?”

The Doctor nodded, breaking out in a grin. “Exactly! You saw Galatea, and she made you feel empty without her--as empty as she almost certainly feels without others admiring her. While I was in the TARDIS, I did a bit of research on the dust from Pafos’ workshop. Galatea’s race is known as the Lapidi. Very interesting creatures--very bright--and made of an organic material similar to ivory. When together, they form a gestalt entity--a shared existence. When bits are cut off, however, the world suddenly becomes very silent and very, very lonely.”

Oliver frowned, taking that in. “So it--she--is trying to make up for that by hypnotizing people so they want stare at her all the time?”

“To put it basically,” the Doctor agreed. “The Lapidi’s only means of communication is psychic, and it seems their particular wavelength has a strong influence on humans. Though, interestingly, she’s either decided not to deprive the Filiorans of their physical needs, or the control doesn’t reach that far.” The Doctor pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“And gelatin stops the control?” Oliver asked, keenly aware that they were running out of time for this conversation. The museum was looming over him now.

The Doctor nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s likely that the control aspect of the communication is limited to only very particular lifeforms that meet specific conditions. The animals used in the creation of gelatin probably don’t fit the bill.”

“And Time Lords don’t, either.”

The Doctor grinned. “Or my psychic powers are just too great for her degree of influence,” he countered. “I’m biped plus, remember.”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember, but--whoa! Stairs!”

Oliver was jarred as his entourage began to lead him up the toward the very classically-styled museum.

“Stay calm, Oliver,” the Doctor helpfully suggested. “This will all be over soon.”

“But you haven’t explained that part yet!” Oliver called behind him as the small doorway required the Doctor to hang back and let Oliver be carried into the museum first.

As the man followed, his eyes narrowed. “No,” he murmured, half to himself. “I haven’t, have I?”

He was jarred from his thoughts, however, by a tiny hand tugging on his sleeve. “Isn’t your friend going to get hurt?” Tirik asked, frowning mightily in concern as he looked up at the Doctor.

“Oliver? No, no, he knows how to take care of himself.” The Doctor put on an encouraging smile for the boy. “Come on, let’s go watch him save your father.”

The boy blinked at him. “I thought you were going to do that.”

“Oh, I might just have a hand or two in it,” the Doctor agreed with a twinkle in his eyes. “But Oliver has an important role to play as well. So come on, you don’t want to miss this!” He took Tirik’s hand, heading up the remainder of the stairs toward the door, but after only a few steps, he stopped.

The loss in momentum just about caused Tirik to fall, but the Doctor quickly steadied him, fishing the same container from his pocket as before. “You’ll need this, too.” He opened it, dabbing another goopy glob onto his finger and rubbing it under Tirik’s nose.

The boy made a face at the smell. “That’s weird!” he declared.

“Is it?” the Doctor asked with a pout. “And here I thought you liked jelly babies. A shame.” He put the container away again, leading the boy through the doors.

The front hall of the museum was in a much more hectic state than it had been the last time. The orderly line had somehow been broken, and the people were now more of a moving mass, though they obviously still had the same destination in mind. The rest of the museum was visibly deserted.

Because of the Doctor’s height, he was able to look over the mass of people, allowing him to see a small pocket within the crowd. That pocket made the reason for the broken line and current pile-up quite clear--all the other people of the town were moving aside to create a space for Oliver and his captors to go through.

“How do we catch up?” Tirik asked worriedly.

“We make our own space in the crowd,” the Doctor replied with a grin. “Come on.” With that, he walked directly into the throng of people, a hesitant Tirik staying close on his heels. As the Doctor had expected, they parted to let him pass, just as they had before. He had hoped that even if Pafos--or the statue--had stepped up her psychic control efforts since they’d been here earlier, she wouldn’t be able to stop the people’s automatic response to the Doctor’s wishes. That did indeed seem to be the case.

With the crowd aiding their passage, it didn’t take long for them to catch up with Oliver and his captors. Unfortunately, it took almost exactly the same amount of time for everyone to reach the room containing the statue.

When the people all stopped just inside, the Doctor withdrew a white paper bag from his pocket, pressing it into Tirik’s hand. “I suspect this won’t be necessary,” he whispered. “But if I react to the statue itself, make sure I eat one of these. Understand?”

Tirik nodded, holding the bag as securely as if he believed the world depended on it.

“You can have one if you’d like,” the Doctor added. “If you still dislike the smell, you might want to pass, but I promise most of that odor comes from the chemicals mixed in with the gelatin, causing particles to be released into your system to prevent the psychic link from taking hold. And you didn’t seem to mind the taste before.”

The boy shook his head, looking up at him with wide eyes. He seemed unsure what to make of the Doctor’s comments. Finally, he said simply, “It’s an okay smell, just weird.”

“Well then, go on,” he encouraged. He didn’t wait to see if the boy took a sweet, however. He knew that he had only taken part in that exchange to momentarily delay the inevitable, and he didn’t want to risk doing so for too long. So, refusing to show any uncertainty to their enemies, the Doctor lifted his head and gazed full-on at the statue of the White Maiden.

There was little difference between the statue in person and the computer image that the Doctor had seen before. However, while he had only been able to vaguely feel the power of the statue as it was radiating from the monitor, he was almost overwhelmed by the sense of it now as a very tangible presence reached out from it and touched his mind.

“That’s enough of that,” he said, quietly and firmly, gazing directly at the statue. The pressure recoiled as if chastised, and the Doctor grinned.

He was pulled from his thoughts by Tirik tugging on his sleeve. “Doctor? Doctor!”

“Hm? What is it?” he asked, looking down at the boy.

“Your friend! He’s like before!” The boy pointed desperately at the crowd in front of the statue.

Oliver’s captors had lowered him to a standing position mere feet from the statue. Three of them had a firm grip on his head--and perhaps a moment ago his eyelids--to force him to look at it. As the Doctor turned his way, they were just letting go of him, allowing Oliver to stand with his eyes riveted on the ivory-like face.

The Doctor smiled faintly. “Not bad at all. Those zombie films of his may have come in useful for once.”

Tirik gaped. “You mean...he’s pretending?” he whispered.

“Well, that’s what I told him to do, isn’t it?” the Doctor retorted, affronted.

“But how do we know he’s only pretending?”

The man raised an eyebrow. Then he looked down at the boy, realizing that Tirik quite openly had his eyes riveted on the scene before them--including the statue. “Obviously it works because you’re not pretending!” the Doctor cried in a whisper. He frowned, considering his options. Children always made things so complicated. Still, he had to do something to make sure Oliver’s ruse wasn’t ruined. “Ah!” he declared as an idea occurred to him. He pulled off his scarf, folding it over and wrapping it around Tirik’s eyes and, consequently, most of the top of his head. He tied it off in the back.

“Doctor!” Tirik protested. “I can’t see!”

“Exactly. You’re not supposed to be immune to the statue, remember?”

“But...” Tirik paused, his visible mouth now pouting mightily. “I want to know what’s happening!” he insisted.

“Then I would stop talking and listen closely,” the Doctor suggested.

“But-!”

“Shhh,” the Doctor hissed. Tirik grew silent at that. Even better, the boy was unable to see the calculating expression that crossed the Doctor’s face then. “No, wait. Tirik, did you feel anything when you saw the statue?”

The scarf couldn’t hide the boy’s frown. “Sort of. Like something was calling to me, except I couldn’t hear what it was saying.”

The Doctor nodded. “Yes, that sounds about right. This should work, then.”

“What should work?”

“Shh! Didn’t you hear me the first time? Honestly, children.”

Tirik pouted and probably would have replied if it weren’t for a sudden gasp that ran through the entire crowd. All the gathered people quite abruptly turned as one, looking back toward the Doctor and Tirik.

“Hello,” the Doctor said with a wave. No one reacted. In fact, no one made a sound--except for a noise from behind him. The Doctor’s eyebrows went up. “Ohhh. You know, Tirik, I don’t believe it’s us they’re interested in.”

“No,” came a female voice. “Not anymore.”

“Why, Lady Pafos!” the Doctor declared, turning to face the approaching woman. He grinned. “I should have known.”

“You should have,” she agreed, smiling proudly. A group of Filioran women were flanking her, blocking any exit from the room. They smiled in almost the exact same smug fashion, hands on their hips as they watched the exchange. “It seems you took a bit too long to rescue your friend.”

The Doctor couldn’t hide his surprise at that. “Oliver knew?” he asked, throwing a glance at the young man. Really, he’d have to have a talk with him later about failing to share crucial information simply because of a small distraction like a high-stress situation.

The woman gave a smile that was dripping with honey. “Maybe next time you won’t throw your friend to the lions quite as quickly.”

The Doctor’s eyes bugged, and he drew himself up in outrage. “No one has been thrown to any lions,” he said darkly. “Or has your friend the Lapidi not given you the news yet?”

“News?” It was the woman’s turn to look startled. She sneered in an attempt to hide it. “What news? That your friend is in my power again?”

“Not the news I had in mind, no.” The Doctor looked her directly in the eyes. “Why? Did you have something in mind for him if he were?”

Her lips curved into a grin. “Let him go,” she called to the men. “And Oliver, come over here.”

The men obeyed, releasing their hold on Oliver and stepping back away from him. For his part, Oliver turned his blank stare from the statue to Pafos and, once he was free, he began to walk slowly and calmly toward her.

“What’s happening?” Tirik whispered urgently. “Doctor, is he still pretending? Is he fighting? Or did they get him?”

The Doctor hushed him again, watching Oliver closely. The young man did not even glance his way, but his hand moved. Was he clenching it? No, his fingers...

The Doctor took an urgent step toward his companion, drawing himself up to his full height, his expression set in anger. “Are you coming at me with your fists, Oliver?” he demanded. “After everything we’ve done together, are you going to let this control you? Is the statue telling you to hurt me for defying it? Are you going to?”

Predictably, Oliver’s hands balled into proper fists then, and he continued his advance, his gaze settling on the Doctor as the man stepped between him and the lady.

“He only obeys my orders now, Doctor,” Pafos said. “But...” She put a finger to her chin, showing long nails that were painted the same earthy brown as her lips. “That is an interesting idea. I think the Lapidi knows by now that you are a threat. Let’s see what she thinks about ordering an attack.” Her grin curved, the expression turning sinister. “Oliver, attack the Doctor! Knock him down! Restrain him! Stop his interfering!”

On command, Oliver’s dead expression switched to one contorted by anger, and he sped up his advance. For his part, the Doctor stood his ground, putting his hands in his pockets and simply waiting. “Come on, then, Oliver. Let’s see you knock someone down.”

Pafos burst out in laughter.

Oliver, on the other hand, let out a cry of rage, taking off at a run now. As he reached the Doctor, the man calmly took two steps to the side. Oliver didn’t stop, rushing forward with clear purpose. His put-on anger disappeared behind an eager grin.

The lady Pafos’ laughter cut off abruptly as she realized something was wrong just a moment too late. She tried to side-step Oliver, and though his need to change course reduced his momentum, he still reached her very quickly. Her eyes widened in anger as they collided. He pushed her full-on, and she swiped at his face with her nails, letting out a cry of hatred.

Oliver was startled by the attack. He understood the danger and tried to jerk away, but he was not fast enough to keep her from wiping the majority of the goopy concoction right out of under his nose. Still, his push sent her sprawling even as he stumbled to the side, looking momentarily disoriented.

“Get him!” Pafos screamed shrilly as she struggled to get back up, her women rushing to help her. The men in the room immediately began to converge on Oliver.

Oliver tensed, shaking his head as though to clear it and taking a step backwards toward the Doctor. “What...what now?” he called, eyeing his attackers. He shook his head again, his concentration clearly lacking.

“Come over here,” the Doctor directed calmly. “But whatever you do, do not turn around. Do not look at the statue!”

Oliver nodded, keeping his gaze focused on the advancing men as he began to walk backwards. He was too distracted to notice the lady Pafos, however, who had been helped to her feet and was swiftly advancing toward him.

“Watch out!” the Doctor warned.

She came at him from the side, giving a feral cry. He turned toward her, putting up his hands to fend her off, but was surprised when, rather than attacking him, she simply plowed into him this time. Her slight weight hardly threw his balance, but the other people reached him then--men and women both, grabbing him, and only as it was happening did he realize that the lady was whispering urgent instructions to them with words too soft for him to hear. But as he turned to fend off a man who had a firm grip on him, he discovered what she had been trying to do. The man ducked, and Oliver found himself staring straight on at the statue of the White Maiden.

“Oliver!” the Doctor cried in frustration, watching in dismay as his friend’s eyes widened, and he stopped his struggling.

The lady Pafos turned to the Doctor, grinning triumphantly. “Too late, Doctor! He’s mine again.” To the men around Oliver, she added, “Restrain him. Just in case.”

“No,” the Doctor whispered, half to himself. “No, wait!” His eyes lit up, his mind working quickly. “He was disoriented. And Tirik... There’s a chance... Oliver!” he repeated, his tone different this time--commanding and urgent. “You can hear the Lapidi, can’t you? Talk to her! Talk to Galatea! You know what she’s doing is wrong--tell her that! Do you hear me? No matter what she’s saying, remember who you are and what you’re here for!”

Oliver’s eyes widened slightly, but he still did not resist as three men from the town grabbed him, pinning his arms to his sides and holding him in place.

“You’re our only chance, Oliver!” the Doctor continued. “The gelatin is still there--just a bit. And you’re still you. You can talk to her! I can’t, but you can. Do you hear me, Oliver Day? It’s up to you now. It’s up to you to save this world!”

Fact or Fiction

2010-05-29T21:22:34Z

Title: Fact or Fiction
Rating: G
Word Count: 3159
This takes place in an RP-verse, post-Crucible but pre-Gauntlet.

Happy (late) birthday to the wonderful vampydirector! This one's for you ♥.

“You knew that was going to happen,” Oliver accused, a bemused expression on his face that belied his words. He was sitting in a corner of their cell, relaxing against the wall and probably looking far calmer than anyone locked in a dungeon by rather angry aliens should look.

“How could I have known?” the Doctor scoffed, hunched over the cell door as he examined the lock.

“Oh, you could’ve,” Oliver insisted. “I bet the second you saw that ‘factualizer’ thingy, you thought, ‘the minute I say something about it, they’re going to throw me in the dungeon.’ And then you spoke up anyway.”

The Doctor shot him a look accompanied by a noise to signify his disagreement, but he had his sonic screwdriver out now and his specs on and was apparently too busy trying to do something to the bars to bother saying anything more.

Oliver smiled in amusement, deciding to neglect to mention that he would have been disappointed if the Doctor hadn’t spoken up about the destruction of those ancient medieval texts, superstitious though they may have been. He only hoped they could get back to that library before too much of this planet’s priceless history was lost. “So how long’s it gonna take, you think?” he asked.

“Hm?”

“To open the door?”

“That’s...a good question.” The Doctor sighed, turning his screwdriver off and straightening. He stashed his specs in his pocket. “It’s an old-fashioned lock.”

Oliver pulled himself up from his slouch, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Like...too old for the sonic screwdriver?”

The Doctor screwed up his face. “Well, technically...yes.”

His companion gaped. “I don’t believe it!”

When the Doctor turned to him, everything about the man’s posture declared just how affronted he was at that comment. “I didn’t design it planning to go around unlocking the most primitive technology in the universe!”

“And why not?” Oliver asked. “You’re always getting locked in it.”

The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, but stopped.

Oliver grinned, feeling rather triumphant, but then the Doctor’s eyes lit up and his companion realized that he had simply had his train of thought derailed by an idea. So much for rendering the Doctor speechless. “What it is?” Oliver asked.

The Doctor grinned at him, a crafty gleam in his eyes. “Ollie, play along, but don’t say too much. We should be out of here in a jiffy. Oh, and you might want to stand up.”

“Uh...okay.” Oliver pulled himself to his feet. “But play along with wh-” But he didn’t bother to finish his thought as the Doctor had already turned away from him and was shaking the bars of their cell.

“Oi, Grel! We have facts for you! Yes, would you believe, we’ve found some facts in this cell? Well, you might not, but I certainly do, so why not come and hear them, just in case they’re good ones?”

“Doctor! What are-”

But between the Doctor waving a hand to silence him and the sound of approaching footsteps, Oliver sighed and closed his mouth again.

Their cephalopodan guard moved swiftly--seemingly eagerly--until it was standing across from their cell. “What facts?” it asked concisely, learning its squid-y face toward the Doctor.

“First fact,” the Doctor started, the hint of cheeky grin on his face. “I can’t open this door. Additional fact: neither can you.”

“Bad fact!” the Grel cried, leering in at the bars--as much as a squid could leer, at least.

The Doctor waggled a finger at him. “I’ll prove it. Watch.” And he pulled his sonic screwdriver back out of his pocket, pointing it at the lock on the bars and activating it. After about 15 seconds of apparently useless whirring, he turned it off. “See. I can’t open this door.”

“Good fact,” the Grel agreed. “You do not have the capacity to open it.”

“And neither can you,” the Doctor repeated.

Oliver fought back a snicker.

“Bad fact!”

“It is not!” the Doctor protested. “Here you are, and here’s the door. Still closed.” He gestured at it for effect. “So, you can’t open it.”

“Bad fact!” the Grel repeated. “Fact: just because a door is closed does not mean it is impossible to open it.”

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow. “Well, I’ve just proved I can’t open it. So why should you be able to? Because here’s a fact--I’m cleverer than you.”

Oliver shook his head, knowing that this time the Doctor had to be going too far. No guard could possibly be stupid enough to-

“Bad fact,” the guard hissed. “Speculation, not a fact.” And with a squidy sneer, the Grel reached into its vest and pulled out a large, black, slightly rusted, and rather stereotypically-designed key. Oliver couldn’t help thinking that this species was clearly just as imaginative while designing a time period-appropriate dungeon as it was in its reading preferences. The key gave a squeak as the Grel turned it in the lock. It pulled the door back--just a centimeter or two--and spat triumphantly, “Good fact! I can open the door.” into the Doctor’s face.

The Doctor ignored it and gave the door a solid push, catching the Grel--rather surprisingly, in Oliver’s opinion--off-guard. The door opened, the guard stumbled, and the Doctor bowled him over as he ran out of the cell. “Hurry up, Ollie!”

Oliver didn’t need the reminder. He was already rushing after the Doctor. “Sorry, mate!” he called with a less-than-apologetic grin to the guard as he passed him and followed the Doctor up the stone stairs. “So, that factualizer thing-”

“One problem at a time!” the Doctor called back to him.

“Yeah, but have you worked out how-”

“It’s this way!” The Doctor made a sharp turn to the left. “No, wait, that way...” He changed course.

If Oliver hadn’t been afraid of running out of breath, he would have sighed at the Doctor’s evasiveness. As it was, he hurried to make the same turns before the man got away from him.

“This way!”

After about 10 minutes of following a combination of the Doctor’s retreating back and the Doctor’s retreating voice, Oliver found to his relief that their current path through a drab stone corridor eventually opened into a small library--the same small library with the giant metallic book-destroying contraption that they had been in earlier.

“And here we are,” the Doctor declared. He immediately walked over to the factualizer, kneeling so he could remove the cover on what must have been an operating panel. Out came the sonic screwdriver again, and without further ado, he set to work on the machine’s inner workings.

Oliver watched curiously. “Great! So about stop-”

“Fact: we have found them!”

Two Grel guards, armed with time period inappropriate guns, stormed in through the library’s other entrance. Oliver swore.

Rather than looking alarmed, as one might have expected, the Doctor simply sighed at the intrusion. He straightened and pocketed his screwdriver, then raised his hands as Oliver followed suit.

“Good fact,” the Doctor agreed. “Or have we found you?”

“Bad fact!” the Grel hissed. “We are the ones who have just entered the room. Therefore, we must be the ones who have found you.”

“Oh yes, I guess you’re right. How silly of me! I must have been thinking about too many things at once.” He gave the Grel an apologetic--but cheeky--smile before turning to his companion and remarking conversationally, “Remember what I said about one thing at a time, Ollie? Because otherwise it’s like that movie...which was it? Where the power was failing in the crashed spaceship, and they tried to preserve the minds of some of the passengers locked in cryogenic stasis by loading them all into the mind of-”

Oliver frowned, glancing between the Doctor and the guns and wondering where this could possibly be going. “Daniel Jackson,” he said. “And that wasn’t a movie. That was a TV show.”

“Bad fact!” hissed one of the Grel, brandishing its gun. “Cryogenically preserved bodies cannot have their minds-”

“Ah yes, of course! Stargate!” the Doctor declared, nonplussed. “Wonderful machine, the stargate. Could never work, of course. But the idea is surprisingly sound--using coordinates to lock on a location. It’s the wormhole bit where they got it wrong, but it is a nice effect, isn’t it? That whoosh as you go through the wormhole.” He gestured for effect. “Especially when you match it up with the TV theme--now there’s the way to open a show!”

“Bad facts!” the other Grel echoed. “There is no such device as a stargate.”

“And a wormhole would not-”

But the Doctor ignored the agitated Grel, continuing on as though they weren’t even there. “But about that episode. The whole idea, of course, was that the human mind can only handle and process so much information at once--much like a machine.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, watching as the Doctor broke out in a sly grin.

The Grel, meanwhile, seemed to have finished explaining the logical fallacies of the Doctor’s description of wormhole usage. One waved its gun angrily at the Doctor, advancing a few steps toward him. “You will move away from the factualizer now.”

The Doctor turned to him, rolling his eyes. “Oh yes, of course. Back to the dungeon with us, is it?” he asked as he obediently backed away from the machine, stepping between Oliver and the two armed guards. “Very mechanical thinking, that. But that’s what the Grel are known for, aren’t they? Just like all their technology.” He winked at Oliver.

Oliver’s eyes went wide at that, the pieces beginning to fall into place. “Hey, Doctor!” he quickly interrupted. “What you said about that Stargate episode.” He glanced at the Grel, hoping they would be too busy examining the fact and fiction of their conversation to do anything with those weapons, before plowing on. “It’s lucky most machines have to be fed data instead of just, you know, hearing it.”

“Oh, typically,” the Doctor agreed. “Unless they’ve been reprogrammed to process vocal signals.”

Oliver started to grin. “What, voice recognition? Don’t you know somebody always gets their throat crushed when that’s used? And then there’s the retina scan, where you either scan an unconscious person or go all Minority Report and, you know, start selling eyeballs-”

The Doctor shook his head. “Think outside the box, Ollie!” he chided. “That technology already exists in most of the universe. No, you have to be more creative than that. Take a DeLorean, for example.”

Oliver laughed. “What, driving at 88 miles per hour to activate the flux capacitor? Presto, wormhole--and time travel?”

“Exactly!”

“You will be quiet!” one of the Grel guards hissed. “You will stop giving bad facts!”

“Or what?” the Doctor countered, taking a defiant step toward the guards. “Or do you mean this is this a ‘stitch in time saves nine’ sort of moment?”

“Bad fact!” the other Grel cried. “Time cannot be stitched.”

“No, but it can sort of be sown!” Oliver piped up, trying to draw the attention of the Grel--and their waving guns--back to him. He spoke quickly, attempting to be as distracting as possible. “Well. Really sort of...sort of. I mean, from people’s perspective! Like, you’ve got this machine, the Matrix, and it’s actually trapping all sorts of future humans in it while they live out virtual lives like they’re on 21st century Earth.” He made a series of gestures as he spoke, trying not to think too much about the guns. To his relief, the Grel seemed to be too busy listening to shoot him--so far. “Which isn’t the real time; it’s only the time they think it is because they don’t know they’re in the machine and it’s actually way later than that. Freaky, huh?”

“Bad facts!” the Grel chorused. “No such machine has enslaved the humans.”

“Yeah, it has! Just ask Keanu Reeves.”

“Or Hugo Weaving,” the Doctor agreed cheerfully. “He’s an elf. Elves can be very trustworthy.”

Oliver grinned, his nerves beginning to fade. “As long as you can get past the pointy ears. And, you know, their aloofness, if you’re talking Lord of the Rings.”

“Bad fact!” hissed one of the Grel, pointing its gun at Oliver. “Elves do not exist.”

“Therefore, elves cannot be especially trustworthy,” agreed the other, keeping its gun trained on Oliver.

“Nor can they be aloof.”

“But they are! Just ask your machine.” The Doctor gestured smilingly at the factualizer, which, during their exchange, had begun to spout plumes of smoke.

“Fact: the factualizer has a fault!” one of the Grel gasped.

“Query: where is the fault?” the other asked.

They shared a look, then ran over to the machine. The first knelt beside it, beginning to examine the same access panel that the Doctor had used. “You, prisoner! Explain what you have done to the machine.”

“Me?” the Doctor asked innocently. “Oh, nothing much. It’s a bit like the Matrix, really--using a localized EMP to stop the Sentinels.”

“Bad fact: there has been no EMP!”

“How do you get that?” Oliver broke in.

“It’s experiencing a voltage surge,” the Doctor explained. “Just the sort you get when you combine solar flare activity with a stargate and cause the wormhole to jump to a different point in time.”

The smoke around the machine grew even denser at that, and the Grel at the controls scrambled back as the factualizer began to make a truly horrific whirring. “Fact: the factualizer is beginning to overload!”

“Well, that’s a bad fact for you,” Oliver remarked with a grin. “Really bad. Sorta like going in that solar flare-affected stargate at the wrong time. Because--and here’s a fact--doing that could end up a bit like...well, like a trip in the TARDIS!”

“Oi!” the Doctor interrupted. “My TARDIS is more reliable than a wormhole that overshot its intended destination by-”

The Grel shrieked. “Fact: the factualizer is going to explode!”

“Inference: we must retreat!”

They ran for cover, just as the machine gave an enormous judder and, while Oliver dove for the ground and the Doctor simultaneously half-tackled him, the gigantic factualizer blew to bits.

It took a few moments after the explosion for the dust to clear. When it did, Oliver and the Doctor were both coughing as they got up, brushing themselves down and picking bits of factualizer off their clothes.

“Well, that’s ironic,” Oliver said.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “That Earth’s idea of time travel was the last straw?”

Oliver grinned. “No. That the TARDIS’ reliability was.”

The Doctor gaped at him. “My TARDIS is not unreliable!”

“Sure, Doctor. Tell that to the Grel.”

The Doctor scoffed as he moved over to the remains of the machine, whipping out the sonic screwdriver to check them--probably to verify that it was truly destroyed. “It is not!” he protested. “Just how many times have we ended up somewhere...well, maybe you shouldn’t answer that. But how many times-”

“Speaking of the Grel,” Oliver interrupted, still grinning. “Shouldn’t we be getting out of here? I have a feeling those two aren’t just going to run for their lives and then forget about us.”

The Doctor made a face. “Probably not,” he agreed with a sigh, pocketing the screwdriver and straightening. “But.” He gave his companion a severely disapproving look. “I think you’re going to have to find your own ride this time.” And with that, he turned and started off at a run, back into the castle’s corridors.

“What!?” Oliver cried incredulously, taking off after him. “Oh, come on, Doctor, you know I was only taking the mick out of you. The TARDIS isn’t always unreliable. Only most of the time!”

“I hope you like the Middle Ages on Krethellis, Oliver Day! You’ll have a lot of time to get used to it!” came the Doctor’s echoing reply.

Oliver started up a stairway, yelling after him. “That’s not fair! Doesn’t the TARDIS get a say?”

Before the Doctor had a chance to respond, Oliver reached the landing to find that they were back out on the ramparts where they had landed in the first place, the aforementioned blue box thankfully standing where they’d left it--right in the way of the ladder to one of the parapets.

The Doctor gave him a glare when he saw him. “Only if you ask her nicely,” he said shortly as he turned the key in the lock.

Oliver scoffed, following him inside. “I’m always nice to the TARDIS! Aren’t I, TARDIS?” He smiled up at the central column, reaching out to pat the console.

The Doctor made a face. “Flattery will get you nowhere. He thinks you’re unreliable, old girl! Now what would give him an idea like that?”

“Ancient China.”

“That was a long time ago!” the Doctor protested as he patted the console consolingly. “And just think how much more fun that was. Would you really have preferred Ancient Greece? Watching Antigone?”

“Well, there would have been fewer arrows,” Oliver pointed out. “And fewer arrow wounds.”

The Doctor scoffed, waving a hand. But despite his earlier threats, he turned to the controls, beginning to input their next coordinates.

Oliver grinned. “But you do have a point, Doctor. And you know, I’m starting to think we missed a good way to destroy that Grel machine.”

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow, glancing at him. “Oh? And what was wrong with my brilliant plan?”

Oliver put his hands up defensively. “Nothing! ‘Course, I’m going to bring it up every time you give me a hard time about my TV and movie-watching from now on, but there was nothing wrong with it at all.”

The Doctor eyed him. “Of course there wasn’t. And there are still much better things to do with your mind, you know.”

“Oh, I agree!” Oliver said, grinning innocently.

For a moment, that response apparently left the man too surprised to respond. Quite a feat, Oliver couldn’t help thinking--especially where the Doctor was concerned.

“That’s just what I meant,” Oliver continued. “What we should have said to that Grel machine.”

“And that is?” the Doctor pressed, absently flicking a switch to set the time rotor into motion.

Oliver grinned. “That fact is stranger than fiction.”

The Doctor scoffed again. “Oh no, Oliver Day, nothing is stranger than some of the shows you-”

It was at exactly that moment that the TARDIS gave a great shudder and then pitched violently to the right. After a hard landing and an oof from each of them, Oliver abruptly burst out laughing. “‘Course not, Doctor!”

Sparks rained down on them from above, and the Doctor scrambled for the controls. Oliver just shook his head and picked himself up from the ground, ready for whatever facts--or even fiction--were about to come their way next.

“This doesn’t count as unreliability, you know! This is just...oof! Turbulence!”

“Whatever you say, Doctor. Whatever you say!”

Ivory Maiden 4

2010-04-03T17:26:27Z

Title: The Ivory Maiden
Part: 4/7
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4571
Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
As always, special thanks to my wonderful beta vampydirector!

The workshop was a large room full of long tables with knives, scalpels, and chisels strewn across them and bits of different sculpting materials lying all about. There were two large chunks of material on tables that looked ready to be carved into statues, but there were also all sorts of smaller chunks and bits on the tables and floor, some of them carved into shapes of human body parts and some of them unformed or clearly broken off of something else. Everything in the room was coated in a fine white powder, making it impossible to tell if these chunks were stone or marble or some other alien material.

One table, however, was an exception to the conditions of the rest of the room. It was covered by a white tarp, which at first glance Oliver assumed was only masking the white powder that surely had to be all over it. After another look, he realized that the tarp was, in fact, meticulously clean. He guessed that meant it had been placed on the table after the latest of Pafos’ work had been completed, which seemed quite a lot of trouble to go to since her project had then been placed on top of the tarp.

This new statue was a bust of woman, in the same Greco-Roman style as the statue at the museum. The woman’s features were also idealized--all the way from her meticulously braided hair, her perfectly-formed nose, and her proud jawline down to the perfection of the top of her tunic and the hint of her breasts at the bottom of the bust. Oliver found that, the more he looked at her noble and gorgeous features, the less he wanted to look away.

Lady Pafos stepped over toward that table, turning to smile at the Doctor and Oliver. “Come closer,” she whispered.

Neither moved. The Doctor was busy surveying the room. He was currently running a hand along one of the tables and sniffing at the powder that was stirred up into the air as he did so. Oliver, however, was far too absorbed in admiring the bust to do anything else. The lady made a sound of annoyance, causing the Doctor to glance first at her and then at Oliver, surprised that his companion wasn’t saying anything in response to the face that she was making at him. But the Doctor did a double-take at what he saw, frowning and stepping forward so that he could snap his fingers in front of Oliver’s face. The technique garnered no response.

As he was performing this test, Pafos moved to stand before the long table at the front of the room. She set a hand on the bust, and for an instant there was a faint hum of energy. The Doctor’s gaze snapped to her, catching just the briefest residue of a psychic energy transmission in the air.

“Come closer,” the lady repeated. This time, Oliver started obediently forward.

“No, I don’t think so!” the Doctor protested immediately, stepping in front of Oliver and grabbing his shoulder. “Oliver, stop.”

The lady laughed as Oliver ignored his friend, pushing past him and continuing toward her. “Closer!” she called, and Oliver pulled against the Doctor’s grasp as the man seized his other shoulder, trying to hold him in place.

The Doctor let go with one hand just for an instant, moving in front of his friend again, but this time he looked into his eyes with a gaze that pierced Oliver’s. “Stop,” he repeated, his tone carrying calm authority. He snapped his fingers in front of Oliver’s face.

Oliver stopped.

Pafos’ jaw dropped. “He can’t respond to you!” she cried incredulously.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you really think you’re the only person with the ability to hypnotize others?”

The woman sputtered

The Doctor gave her a toothy grin before turning back to his companion. “Oliver, time to leave. Come along.”

But his grin faded when Oliver didn’t move.

“Oliver?” He tried to lead the young man to turn around, using the hand he already had on his shoulder, but while Oliver shifted slightly under the Doctor’s guidance, he wouldn’t take a step.

Pafos kept one hand firmly pressed against the bust. “Oliver, think of the statue. Think of the White Maiden. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Come to it.”

To the lady’s delight, Oliver took a hesitant step toward her, shouldering the Doctor as he made to go up to the table.

The Doctor, however, wouldn’t relax his grip. “Oliver, stay right here! Don’t take another step!”

Oliver hesitated.

“Think of the Maiden,” Pafos insisted.

This time, the Doctor let Oliver push past him. The man plunged a hand into his pocket, searching for something. Oliver took several more slow steps forward, his eyes fixed on the piece on the table.

“That’s it. You’re almost to her,” Pafos whispered, her eyes lighting up as she saw her victory on the horizon. “You only need to touch her.”

The Doctor’s eyes bugged with agitation. As he withdrew an object from his pocket, he rushed forward, grabbing Oliver’s shoulder with one hand and twisting him just enough to stuff something into his mouth.

Oliver stopped in his tracks, immediately beginning to cough like someone had just shoved something all the way down his throat--which might have been the case, really.

Pafos’ eyes widened in rage. “No!” she cried shrilly, letting go of the statue and moving forward to grab Oliver’s hand.

The Doctor, sensing her intention, grabbed Oliver by both shoulders and pulled him firmly backwards. “Run!”

Oliver seemed to understand because, even though he was still coughing, he started to turn around and retreat, the Doctor pulling him along the way. Ignoring Pafos’ cries of denial and anger, they both ran back through the house and out the front.

“Keep going!” the Doctor called, letting go of Oliver and leading the way through streets full of startled women. He grabbed his companion to help balance him several times when Oliver wobbled on the heels of his boots, but despite that difficulty, they made it outside of town and into the midst of the field, where the Doctor finally stopped.

Oliver immediately doubled over, coughing and breathing hard. His lungs hadn’t appreciated the sudden shift between choking and running for his life. “Doctor...” he forced out.

“Hm? What is it, Oliver?” the Doctor asked absently. He didn’t turn to him, too distracted by, apparently, studying his hand. “Not programming, then. A consciousness...” he mumbled to himself.

Oliver would have asked, but he had a few too many other questions running through his mind at the moment. “What...just happened?” he breathed, straightening.

The Doctor waved his other hand dismissively. “Just a bit of hypnosis and psychic control. Nothing to worry about. A jelly baby sorted it all out.”

“What?” Oliver repeated, anything he might have added to that question cut off by another bout of coughing. “But the statue’s in the other town!” he protested once he’d gotten himself properly breathing again.

“Ah,” the Doctor said, looking up with a knowing grin. He held up his hand, showing it to Oliver. Squinting, Oliver could see that his palm was coated in a white powder of some sort--the same white powder that had been all over the workshop. “But that statue isn’t the lady Pafos’ only work. In fact, I imagine it’s only her first major piece on display.”

Oliver’s eyes widened. “You mean she’s making more crazy hypnotic statues? So she can enslave more towns!?”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, looking the slightest bit proud. “You have been working some of this out as we’ve gone along, haven’t you? Good on you. All due to my influence, of course, but still something to be proud of.”

“Yeah, but...” Oliver frowned, too agitated to even enjoy the compliment. He gasped. “That’s why she wanted us to go into the workshop!”

The Doctor nodded. “It does seem to have been a trap for us. Or, for you, at any rate.”

“Wait, what? But she didn’t want me...ohhhh.” Oliver groaned. “She wanted us both in the workshop all along, and she knew I’d go in if she told me not to.”

“That does appear to have been the case, yes,” the Doctor agreed with a placid smile.

“And we fell right for it!” Oliver cried in dismay.

“You did volunteer.”

Oliver sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing the blame. “Well, what now then?”

The Doctor considered that. “We get a bit farther away from Sorodum, I think.” He turned, beginning to walk through the tall grasses of the field.

“Just not too far,” Oliver cautioned as he followed, knowing what the men of Fratedum would do if they saw him again. “And how about you fill me in a bit more on the stuff your influence is supposed to’ve helped me work out?”

“Now, I wouldn’t start aiming too high, Oliver. You don’t want to disappoint yourself with the natural limitations of human intelligence.”

“Doctor.”

“Yes?” The Doctor glanced back at him. “Oh, well, I don’t know the origins of this Lady Pafos yet, but it’s certainly clear that her people--or she at least--have had a hand in the shaping of this society.”

“And that’s clear how?”

“The names, Oliver! The names!” The Doctor stopped, sighing at Oliver’s blank look. “Think Pygmalion. Ovid. Greek and Roman mythology. Lady Pafos? You’ve studied these things, haven’t you?”

“Well, yeah, the story leads up to the founding myth for the city of Paphos, in Cyprus, because Paphos was the name of...” Oliver’s eyes widened. “The son of Pygmalion and his statue, Galatea.”

“And the true centerpiece of Ovid’s myth, in the end,” the Doctor said, continuing forward. “A product of the statue, rather than its maker. But Paphos could also be considered a figure free from the mesmerizing influence that the statue held over Pygmalion...” The Doctor trailed off, his expression thoughtful.

“That’s a bit weird, isn’t it?” Oliver remarked, hurrying after him. “I mean, what would Greek mythology be doing here, on this planet? Or Roman mythology, if it really is based on Ovid’s version. Come to think of it, we keep running into Greek and Roman architecture, too.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised how far some things travel in the universe,” the Doctor said absently, waving a dismissive hand. “Not to mention how many things you humans think you came up with yourselves.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow at him. “What, like Greek mythology is actually all about alien visitors?”

The Doctor didn’t answer, once again too lost in thought.

Oliver frowned, taking the opportunity to consider the situation for himself. “You know, I’m surprised the statue isn’t named Galatea, in that case,” he said. “Or would that be too obvious? I mean, I guess they just about named her Galatea anyway, didn’t they? Doesn’t that name mean something about her being white? Like White Maiden.”

The Doctor abruptly stopped, his gaze snapping to Oliver. “What was that?”

Surprised by his sudden change in demeanor, Oliver stopped short as well. “White Maiden is sort of like Galatea,” he repeated.

“Yes, it is. But no one in this society has used that name--although you did.” The Doctor’s lips slowly began to curl into a grin, his mind clearly on the verge of a discovery.

“You’re the one who brought it up, but yeah.”

The Doctor shook his head. “No, not just now! When you were under the statue’s influence, you called it Galatea. I wonder why...”

“Well...I guess it must’ve reminded me of Pygmalion.”

The Doctor’s eyes lit up. “Yes. Yes, that’s it! Oliver! You were trying to tell me something when you said that, weren’t you?” His grin widened, his teeth showing now. “It wasn’t just an answer to my question. You were telling me how to solve it all!”

Oliver stared at him. “I was? I mean, ‘course I was!” He grinned back for a moment, but it faded into a questioning look. “So uh...you know how to solve it, then? How do we do that?”

“Back to the TARDIS!” the Doctor declared, taking off at a run.

“What? Doctor!” Oliver cried as he followed. “How are we gonna get past all the zombies!?”

“You’ll see!”

“Before or after we get mobbed by them?”

But the Doctor didn’t respond, and Oliver had to stop shouting so he wouldn’t fall behind--or trip over the heels of his boots--as they headed full-tilt back toward Fratedum.

***

When they reached the edge of town, Oliver only narrowly missed crashing into the Doctor as the man abruptly stopped.

“Steady on.” The Doctor grabbed Oliver’s shoulder to help him keep his balance.

“Why...are we stopping?” Oliver gasped between breaths, wishing not for the first time that he had whatever lung system Time Lords did that allowed the Doctor to do all that running without the slightest ill effects. Then again, the Doctor hadn’t had the misfortune of choking on a jelly baby just a little earlier. Or being hypnotized by a bust, or...well, really what it boiled down to was that Oliver had been through better days.

While Oliver caught his breath, the Doctor started to remove his feminine hat and coat. “Because you,” he said, giving him a pointed look, “are staying here.” He crouched to remove his boots.

“What?” Oliver immediately protested. “You can’t do the rest of this alone! What if the zombies-”

The Doctor cut him off with a shake of his head. “First off, Oliver Day, the ‘zombies’ are only interested in you. They listen to me, remember? Second, there are plenty of things I can do alone, and this is one of them. Third, if you think I’d leave you out here to miss all the fun, you really don’t know who you’re talking to.” He looked up, giving his companion a toothy grin, before he reached into his coat pocket to retrieve his hat and put it back on with a flourish. He stood. “I’m going to the TARDIS. I’ll be back in a tick. Wait here.”

“Oh.” After that speech, it was all Oliver could think to say. “All right, then. But be careful!”

The Doctor gawked at him. “Me? You’re telling me to be careful? Honestly.” He turned, grumbling to himself as he started into town.

Oliver watched with a frown as the Doctor disappeared among the houses. Once he was gone, the young man began to remove his own extra clothing. He checked his watch. 40 minutes should be enough for the Doctor to get to the TARDIS and back. Any more, he decided, and he was going to go after him, no matter what he had said.

***

The Doctor hurried through town at a jog, although he was careful to smile and tip his hat occasionally to the residents, watching for their reactions. He noticed to his dismay that not a single one responded to him in the least--not even with a glance. Considering that even a guard in the museum had retained his free will earlier in the day, this was a very bad sign. Perhaps Pafos had stepped up her efforts since they had visited her--assuming it was Pafos who was in control.

But now really wasn’t the time to worry about such things. The Doctor picked up his pace, giving up on greeting the residents. He needed to get to the TARDIS and get his work done--and quickly, so he could go back and retrieve Oliver. He hadn’t wanted to tell the young man, but he was fairly certain he couldn’t actually solve this without his help after all. The problem was, it was clear to the Doctor that he himself could make no connection to the material that the statue was made of. However, it was more than obvious that Oliver could, and he had a sinking feeling he was going to need that connection in order to fix anything. While he knew that Oliver wouldn’t mind being at the forefront of the danger--if it could save this world, Oliver would surely be more than happy to be--he couldn’t help but find the idea unsettling.

“Doctor!”

The Doctor turned in surprise at the voice, just in time to see a young boy running toward him from a nearby yellow house. “Why, Tirik!” he said, not letting his expression betray his apprehension. “What brings you here?”

As the boy reached him, the Doctor could see that he looked a bit hurt. “It’s my home,” he said with a pout. “You told me you’d come here when you needed help, and here you are! How can I help?”

The Doctor felt another pang of familiarity. If Tirik’s race had a distant connection to humans, then Oliver’s DNA had definitely made it into the boy. “For now, you can stay close to me and be very quiet, all right? I need to get to my ship quick as I can.”

Tirik nodded, his expression very serious. “Where is it?” he whispered. “Maybe I know a shortcut!”

As this was a valid point, the Doctor quickly described the crowded street of shops in which they had landed.

“I know where that is!” Tirik exclaimed, his expression lighting up. Then he realized how loud he’d been, and his eyes widened. He blocked his mouth with a hand, whispering, “Come this way.”

The Doctor gave a serious nod to make sure the boy wasn’t under any illusions about the severity of situation. Then he followed.

As it turned out, there was no particular reason to worry about being stopped or delayed on their way to the TARDIS. The residents they passed were completely uninterested in their presence. The only response the pair got out of any of them was that they would step out of the way if the Doctor came close. While it was reassuring that they didn’t seem to be bothered by Tirik’s presence, the Doctor couldn’t help feeling on guard. If the psychic control efforts had been stepped up since his visit to Pafos, that meant there was some sort of communication--perhaps even control--being exercised between her and the statue. With that likely being the case, then there was no telling what else might happen--or when.

“Almost there,” Tirik whispered as they came upon the familiar street. The Doctor picked up his pace, unconsciously pulling ahead of the boy as soon as he laid eyes on the blue box off to the side of the road.

“There you are, old girl.” He smiled, his worries fading momentarily as he gave her a pat before unlocking the door. Then he turned to Tirik, considering his options, but he knew there was really only one choice in this situation. “Come with me,” he said briskly before disappearing inside.

There was a moment of hesitation, but Tirik soon entered, and the Doctor quickly closed the doors, worried the child might become spooked and disappear again.

“Ohhhhh,” Tirik breathed once he had seen just what he had walked into. He moved in a slow circle, gazing all around him in awe. “What sort of place is this?” he whispered.

“This is my ship,” the Doctor replied proudly, “the TARDIS.”

Tirik continued to look around, making a second loop. After another moment’s consideration, he asked, “Was it a gift from the goddess?”

The Doctor boggled at him. “No, she was not!” he scoffed. “This is my ship, and she is absolutely incredible, aren’t you, old girl?” He gave the console a pat. “Which is far more than I can say about the so-called ‘gifts’ from that goddess of yours.”

The boy gasped, staring at the Doctor with wide eyes. “Y-you’re not supposed to speak about the goddess that way,” he stammered in a whisper. He looked around again, but this time he seemed to be checking for eavesdroppers.

“I can speak of her however I wish!” the Doctor boomed. “I’ve met her, and I can guarantee you that she’s not the goddess you think she is.”

Tirik gaped at him again. “You’ve met the goddess?” he fairly squeaked.

“Yes, and a rather awful woman she turned out to be. Very self-absorbed. Now then.” The Doctor peered at a reading on the console. “You just wait while I do some important work. And don’t touch anything, got that?”

The boy nodded mutely, staring at the Doctor in wide-eyed confusion and, perhaps, some degree of fear.

“Good.” The Doctor nodded to himself. “Come along.” He took one last look at the display on the console before he turned, ushering the frightened boy after him as he headed through the TARDIS toward his lab.

***

Oliver really had intended to wait a full 40 minutes for the Doctor--or so he told himself--but it wasn’t his fault that his waiting was interrupted by the sight of a large group of Filioran women with Lady Pafos at their head, quickly making their way toward Fratedum.

He swore and, deciding that getting caught by them was probably worse than getting caught by the zombies, stood and ran into town. He knew the Doctor would have wanted him to hide somewhere near the edge of Fratedum, but since he was the only one who knew that those women were coming, he determined that he would have to warn the Doctor instead. And maybe the time that had passed while they were away in Sorodum might have solved his zombie problem?

Oliver encountered no trouble at all to begin with, but only as long as he was still going through deserted streets. When he headed deeper into town and entered a street that had people in it, however, the four men immediately started to come his way. Oliver swore again; their visit to Sorodum must not have improved the situation after all. He made a hasty retreat back into a side street.

He counted to ten before he peeked around the corner, hoping that getting out of their sight might have solved his problem. Unfortunately, they were still advancing. Oliver swore for a third time. This really could be going better. It seemed he would have to hide for the moment after all. But where? And how to lose these four first?

Hoping that the simplest solution was the best, he took off at a run, zigzagging through side streets until he was sure he must have lost his pursuers. Gasping for breath yet again, he scanned the area for a hiding place. In the end, the best he could do was crouch behind a building just off the main road. He stayed as still as he could, struggling to catch his breath, and irrationally wondering if the zombies could smell his brain. That was just something films had made up, wasn’t it? And the Doctor would think he was silly for considering them zombies anyway. They were just under psychic control. But could psychic controllers smell brains?

He quickly stopped that rather unproductive train of thought and instead tried to focus on what he could do to get out of this mess. The TARDIS was all the way across town and right in the middle of a street that was on the way to the museum, so unless he suddenly developed a zombie-defeating technique, it was highly unlikely that he would make it there.

Then again, what choice did he have? Lady Pafos was on her way, and if she found either him or the Doctor, there was no telling what would happen.

But that brought an even more unsettling thought to mind. What if she wasn’t trying to find him or the Doctor? What else could she be here to do? Maybe to talk to the zombies in person--convince them to do something that she couldn’t from a distance. What if she was here to put in a kill order for the Doctor, and he was the only one who knew about it?

If Oliver had taken a moment to think, he would have realized that he was letting his imagination get away with him--not that he didn’t find himself unexpectedly walking into the worst-case-scenario often enough with the Doctor--but as it was, just that thought was enough to spur him into action. He had to at least try to warn the Doctor. Either he needed to run to the TARDIS, or he needed to get to another safe place so he could come up with a plan. But where else was there that had been in any way safe?

That was an easy enough question to answer: Tirik. He’d given them directions to his house, and he would be able to move through the zombies to warn the Doctor even if Oliver couldn’t. Oliver smiled, relieved to have a plan of action. It seemed he hadn’t lied to the boy after all.

He abandoned his hiding place, running again. While he did so, he tried rather desperately to remember what route he’d taken to get to this area. Tirik had given them directions from the edge of town, so he’d have to go back there if he were going to find the house. He just had to hope he didn’t cross paths with Lady Pafos or any of her entourage while he was at it.

Good thing he was an optimist.

***

It didn’t take long for the Doctor to complete his analyses and experiments, and he and Tirik emerged from the TARDIS shortly thereafter. The boy was visibly apprehensive as they headed back into town, but the Doctor walked with his hands in his pockets, whistling faintly to himself.

“Where are we going now, Doctor?” Tirik asked softly, huddling close to him and fearfully eyeing the nearby lines of mindlessly moving citizens.

“We’re going to get Oliver, and then we’re going to end this,” the Doctor replied, grinning at the boy with a twinkle in his eyes.

Tirik looked just as awed as the Doctor had hoped he would. “How are you going to do that?” he asked.

“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough,” the Doctor said with a wave of his hand. He turned down a side street, heading back toward the edge of town.

They didn’t get far, however, before the monotony of the silently walking droves was broken by yelling--yelling that was headed in their direction. The Doctor’s eyes narrowed. “What’s he done this time?” he quietly asked of no one in particular before starting to sprint in the direction of the noise. Tirik cried out in surprise, struggling to keep up with him.

It didn’t take long to find the source of the commotion--mostly because it was heading directly toward where they were in the heart of town. Tirik gasped, but the Doctor only shook his head, smiling faintly to himself. “I should have known.”

Oliver, yelling, kicking, and fighting, was being carried by a group of four relatively-large men. One held his shoulders, the second had his arms pinned behind his back, and the last two were holding his legs. The convoy was moving very slowly due to Oliver’s struggling, but it was nevertheless going relentlessly forward. The Doctor had a feeling he knew the destination it had in mind.

“Well,” he said. “At least that saves us the trouble of finding him.”

gauntlet_rpg Post, Thread, and Log Info

2010-03-14T19:55:50Z

Posts:
[001] - 04/04/10 - Transformed Boundaries. After the ships were combined, Oliver wanted to find out how everyone was doing. He theorised that getting the Gate back should be able to bring back anyone who was lost in the time-space anomaly.
-The Doctor contacted him from the data archive, and Oliver joined him there to help him rebuild the terminals. To his delight, Oliver got to use the sonic screwdriver! Then they worked together to rebuild DIVA's map of the ship.
-Turlough was busy rebuilding droids. Oliver found out that he lived on Earth in 1983 for a while--as an exile due to getting caught on the wrong side of a war. He also discovered that Turlough isn't terribly fond of Earth, which he has made it his mission to change.
-Geo called him sir. He found out that he used to be onboard the Stella and is friends with someone named Mega.
-Allen introduced himself, but Oliver was confused, remembering him as Allison. He found out that Allen has been in another place that pulled people in from different universes--a tree known as Edensphere. Allen also let him know that he has some medical training and they discussed having Allen train everyone in some basic first aid. Oliver was a bit reluctant but agreed with the benefits of the idea.
-Sora introduced himself and asked Oliver what the Crucible was. He also told Oliver about the three Rikus on board.
-Nataku pointed out that it will take a while to get the Gate back, and Oliver attacked him with optimism.
-Ame wanted to verify that the Gate could bring back the dead.
-Vash wanted more information about the disappearing people. He also informed Oliver that he would be fixing donut machines and other food-making apparatuses.
-Euphie wanted to hear about the anomalies on the Crucible. She also offered to help get a headcount of who is still there.
-AU!Riku introduced himself.
-America let Oliver know he was there, but he was still suffering from the aftereffects of having been on the Tilriz.
-Aerith told him that Riku, Seymour, Roxas, and Axel were all gone. She suggested that they might have been sent home, and Oliver agreed that he hoped so, too.
-Sally was skeptical as to whether the Gate could really bring them back. She also recognised Oliver's name and told him the Doctor had mentioned him. She told him that she'd helped the Doctor before and found out a little bit about how she's spoken to the Doctor through a transcript that she had later delivered to him. He also found out that she's from 2010.

[002] - HUNT - 04/24/10 - Keep Your Eyes Peeled. Oliver took part in the search for bombs left behind by the rebel attackers.
*-Menaeus came to check the possible bombs Oliver had found. When they turned out to be fakes, Oliver searched the pool, but Menaeus revealed those as fakes as well.
-Turlough was worried that Oliver didn't look well. He told Oliver that he and the Doctor had found one of the bombs, and they both agreed that they should keep an eye on the Doctor for now, as he's probably very upset about what happened with the soldiers.
-Lightning pointed out that he should probably be resting rather than searching.

-[003] - 05/26/10 - Shiny Happy People (Part 1). Caught up in the euphoria and hallucinations during their trip through the wormhole, Oliver gleefully rambled to everyone about how well everything is going. He also announced that Chloe has arrived on the ship, and he suggested a party in the Hawking's bar.
-Lightning actually smiled, looking forward to going home. Oliver asked what she would be doing when she got there, and Lightning admitting that she would be fighting--to get her sister back.
-Manjoume pointed out that he's too young to drink, but Oliver wanted to sneak him in anyway. Manjoume wisely refused.
-The Doctor was eager to meet up. They went to the bar, where the Doctor told Oliver that he's found the TARDIS, but she's mad at him and is currently locking him out.
-Turlough told Oliver that his mother is here and wanted him to meet her. Oliver headed to his room. They were both surprised that their loved ones wandered off before they could meet, but they decided they'd just have to go look for them.
-Amaterasu asked about what a stargate was and who Chloe was. Oliver asked about spirit gates in return.
-Molly was surprised by the speed at which Oliver was talking.
-Riku showed some optimism of his own.
-Sally asked if she could bring her boyfriend Larry along. When they met, they were both confused that their loved ones seemed to be invisible to each other, but they decided that shouldn't stop them from enjoying themselves.

[004] - FREEDOM - 05/31/10 - Shiny Happy People (Part 2). Having finally realised that his hallucination of Chloe wasn't real, Oliver focused on finding a way to get the ship out of its current predicament. He appealed to the Doctor to communicate with the whale or other crewmembers to help him in an attempt to tickle or gag the whale using combat machines or mobile suits. Unfortunately, he was already beginning to suffer some negative effects of the constant heat.
-The Doctor told him that the blowhole would be too risky as an exit, but he was planning to attempt to communicate with the whale.
-Rukia asked what space whales eat.
-Lightning offered to be his co-pilot again.
*-Menaeus approved of Oliver's idea but pointed out some things he was overlooking.
-Motoko was glad to see Oliver acting like himself again.

[005] - 06/09/10 - Fool Me Once.... After several days of interrogations in which he was shocked repeatedly for his refusal to answer, followed by more than a day of being locked in a white cell without food, Oliver is unexpectedly faced with a double representing his inner demons.
-Molly tried to encourage him, before revealing her own double, who spilled the beans about her hypnotic abilities. Oliver's double convinced Molly that Oliver would be afraid of her now, especially after she revealed that she had attempted to hypnotise the Doctor--and that she could hypnotise him without him even knowing she'd done it. Molly turned off the sphere, upset, but Oliver called her back and insisted that he trusted her. Molly offered to hypnotise herself so that she would never hypnotise him, but Oliver told her that wasn't necessary.
-Rukia told him not to let their captors weaken his resolve. She asked about past Gate experiences as well. She revealed that they've been depriving her of sleep, and Oliver double informed her that he hasn't been eating. Rukia gave him some tips.
-Turlough and his double got in on encouraging Oliver to get the upper hand against his double. Then the Turloughs made an escape attempt but were caught and separated. Turlough and Oliver decided to brainstorm other possible escape plans.
-Manjoume appeared with his White Thunder double, and he revealed that it was his past and the result of blindly believing in what others tell you.
-The Doctor yelled at both Olivers to shut it. He wanted the double to bring issues to light so that Oliver would finally face the things that are bothering him. They started out by talking about what the Doctor has done to shake his faith, including how distant the Doctor seems to be now. The Doctor explained that it's because he knows it's dangerous to be close to him and he doesn't want to see anyone else hurt, but he insisted that it's not Oliver's fault and that he will always trust him and be there for him.
-Lightning was annoyed to see the clone trick being used on Oliver as well. She was also upset to discover that Oliver had been hiding that the First were shocking him during interrogations. She yelled at him for acting like he's in this alone. At that point, her double reappeared, accusing her of abandoning people as she did her sister Serah. Oliver's double talked about the darkness inside him and the evil things he did as the Puppeteer. They both denied each other's doubles, Oliver insisting that Lightning was a caring person and Lightning insisting that Oliver was the sort of person who always wanted to help others and that his experiences had made him strong. Knowing that they each had the support of a friend, they were able to turn their attention from the doubles and just to each other.

[006] - 06/21/10 - A Matter of Taste. Once the vision of imprisonment ended, Oliver exited the mecha into the docking bay but was suddenly struck with deafness, in addition to feeling queasy, having whiplash, and mysteriously experiencing a constant smell of steamed broccoli. Frightened, he attempted to contact the others.
-Rukia was worried that he might be injured. After getting the closed captioning functioning on the sphere, Oliver was able to talk to her, and he agreed with her suggestion to go to the medical bay.
-Neil also wanted to know what was wrong. After some prodding, Oliver found out that he has gone blind.
-Manjoume asked what was wrong.
-Lightning went up to Oliver upon leaving the mecha. He was startled by her, and she asked him what was wrong.
-Molly contacted him, revealing that she is currently both deaf and mute.
-Xion wondered if Oliver was all right. He reassured her, then they introduced themselves to each other.
-The Doctor contacted him, and Oliver discovered that he can't speak. The Doctor warned him about the Master's presence on the ship. He wanted Oliver to hide his friendship with the Doctor, but Oliver argued, and eventually they agreed that he should just be careful. The Doctor particularly warned him about the Master's hypnotic abilities.

[007] - HIDDEN MESSAGE - 06/30/10 - The Battle of Wits (Part 1). After cracking the code on the message left by Captain Maris of the Cedirra, Oliver shared his findings and encouraged the others to share ideas so they could solve the riddle of the designated location together.
-Rukia copied down the code and discussed mythology with Oliver. They decided that the two most likely locations were Altair and the Eagle Nebula. Then Rukia asked him about Texas.
-Xion asked Oliver how he had broken the code.

[008] - 07/09/10 - The Battle of Wits (Part 2). Oliver was mysteriously pursued by a shadow while visiting the tea house.
*-A shadow pursued him, sending him all the way to the Uesugi and the biodome there. It was a sick mess inside, and there was a strange ash tree that smelled of rot. It absorbed the shadows, and Oliver was able to leave.
-Lightning tried to give him advice--and to find him.
-Xion cautioned him to be careful.
-Molly revealed that she wasn't being pursued by shadows, but she wanted to find Oliver and to help him. He got angry and yelled at her not to, and she got angry, too, and shut off the feed.
-Rukia tried to find him and to give him advice.
-Tieria also tried to help but began to be pursued by a shadow of his own.

[009] - 07/19/10 - The Battle of Wits (Part 3). Oliver succumbed to the mind-altering particles in the air and believed that he was possessed by the Puppeteer for months, went on a psychopathic murdering spree, and was eventually abandoned, broken and mad.
-Joshua was curious and tried to find out more about what was going on in Oliver's head. He went to see Oliver, and Oliver tried to attack him, but Joshua used a trashcan to stop him. Oliver explained to Joshua about how he had been possessed by the Puppeteer and his darkness had been used to murder people, and Joshua gave him some really sound advice about where to go from there. Unfortunately, Oliver was having none of it and Joshua left.
-Molly teased him for being crazy, and Oliver pointed out that her accent had changed. Molly found him boring and shut off the feed.
-Rukia offered to end his pain by killing him. They attacked each other. At first, Oliver was easily outclassed, but then Rukia fought against the Hollow within her, and Oliver managed to injure her arm with her own sword. Eventually, Rukia herself started to fight against the false memories, and she ran from the scene--leaving Oliver with her sword.
-Turlough argued with oliver for a while about what had meaning in life.
-The Doctor, possessed by the Valeyard, taunted Oliver, and they decided to kill each other. Oliver revealed that he believed the Doctor had never saved him from the Puppeteer. The Valeyard was amused and easily overpowered Oliver. He broke Oliver's nose with his elbow and used Rukia's sword to pin Oliver's hand to the floor, stabbing clean through it. He tried to yank the sword out afterwards, causing Oliver a great deal of pain. Once he did free the sword, a migraine stopped him from killing Oliver. Oliver tried to get away from him at first but then decided that he should die and approached the Doctor, giving him an opening to choke him and attempt to strangle him.

[010] - 08/03/10 - The Battle of Wits (Part 4). Wandering the maze of the red forest, Oliver was attacked by a concealed dart.
-Joshua
-Turlough
-The Doctor

[011] - 08/19/10 - Planetary Arc 1: Hakuna Matata. After being outside the Gerostana and sampling the fruit, Oliver is in a zen state and has decided to throw a party on the beach.
-Turlough
-Rukia
-Manjoume

[012] - 09/07/10 - Planetary Arc 2: Sweet Dreams. Oliver awoke from a dream to find that a wound he had received in it was real.
-Abel
-Rukia
-The Doctor

[013] - 11/08/10 - Calm before the storm. Oliver was confused to find a photo of Chloe in his room as he couldn't remember who she was. He sat in the tea house, contemplating it.
-The Doctor
-Neil
-Lyle

[014] - 11/18/10 - Insurrection. Oliver the white mage got into a random encounter with an Alliance soldier.
-Abel
-Rukia
-Amaterasu
-Lyle
-Tieria

[015] - 01/25/11 - Point of No Return. Oliver found a box containing a suspicious-looking item in the strange outpost.
-Tieria
-Lyle
*-Menaeus

[016] - Closed to Rukia - 02/12/11 - Not Quite Myself Today. Oliver, currently with Tieria's hair, spotted Rukia looking shifty in the bio-dome.

[017] - 02/26/11 - A Day at the Beach. Oliver found the pulse package sent by Maris.
-Jack

Threads:
-firebranded 1 - 03/15/10 - Greeted Axel, seeing as he's the commander of the Hawking. He found out the pub on the Uesugi is off-limits to non-passengers but that he can probably sneak in. Talked to Axel about his method of portalling around, but was worried when Axel mentioned that those susceptible to darkness might have it seep into them if they travelled with him.
-ghostin_myshell 1 - 03/15/10 - Was excited to see Motoko again, and he asked her about what had been going on in the 10 intervening years. He found out The First had come out of a long silence and abruptly stolen the Gate and that Motoko is worried they have more up their sleeve. He tried to impress some optimism upon her. He also insisted that she take a break, and eventually they decided that she could show him around the ship--starting with the robotics area. He watched a cyborg's new prosthetic body being put together, and they talked a bit about humanity.
-dawnward 1 - 03/15/10 - Greeted Riku and asked about how things had been going since the Crucible. Riku seemed sad, but he claimed that it was just the Gate sickness. Oliver discovered that Riku did not regain his memories of the Crucible until he arrived here.
-bit_impossible 1 - 03/15/10 - Oliver and the Doctor were reunited yet again, and he found out that the Doctor has been travelling alone. They decided to search for the TARDIS together. The Doctor also warned him about Omega's presence--that he's an old enemy who was trapped in an anti-matter universe and should not, for any reason, be told about the Time War. They didn't find the TARDIS, but they did run across Neil's Gundam, Dynames, and took a look in the cockpit. Thankfully, nothing was broken in the process.
-epicinity 1 - 03/15/10 - Found out that Nataku is dead in his home universe. Also, he tried to convince him to go to the Uesugi's pub.
-rocksecution 1 - 03/16/10 - Greeted Klavier again. He found out that he's back to prosecuting back home and, while he's written some lyrics, hasn't yet produced that album about his travels on the Crucible. He also apologised for not being able to visit Klavier's world after all.
-celestial_okami 1 - 03/16/10 - Found Ammy in her wolf form.
-curearainyday 1 - 03/16/10 - Tried to find out from McCoy if a physical is really necessary. McCoy reassured him by revealing that it only involves a scan. Oliver relented and admitted during the scan that he's suffered some head trauma in the past.
-cosmic_engineer 1 - 03/18/10 - Overheard Omega saying he was a Time Lord. He found out he was the founder of time travel--and therefore of the Time Lords. He also told Omega that he's travelled with the Doctor and was surprised at how much Omega seemed to know about him.
-kuroi_sanda 1 - 03/19/10 - Saw Manjoume's first transmission, expressing annoyance at being on the ship again. Oliver tried to cheer him up.
-herotastic 2 - 03/21/10 - Saw America devouring burgers and wondered what he meant by saying he was America.
-blacks_lackey 1 - 03/23/10 - Greeted Turlough. He found out that he's from the planet Trion. Oliver related everything he knew about their current situation and warned Turlough a bit about what the Gate can do. When he mentioned the Doctor, he found out that Turlough travelled with him before and, in fact, met four different versions of him. He warned Turlough about Omega, and they considered using the spheres to set up a warning if Omega came near, but Turlough had a feeling Omega would have to work with them if they want to get home, and Oliver agreed. They also agreed that they would help the Doctor if Omega tried to pull anything.

-bit_impossible 2 - 03/23/10 - A depressant-effected Oliver found the Doctor had turned green while they were visiting the Tilriz. They had a conversation about bets and pigs in dresses in spacesuits that Oliver eventually started to record.
*-veryverycheap 1 - 03/24/10 - A depressant-effected Oliver bartered an alien coin for a one-use transporter that can attach to a sphere.
-mr_dynames 1 - 04/03/10 - A recovered Oliver spotted Neil running simulations in Dynames. He convinced Neil to bring him aboard, much to his excitement.

-heavensbluestar 2 - 04/07/10 - Encouraged Asuka that normal people can help, too.
-chainedrevolver 3 - 04/07/10 - Tried to help Noel find something she could do to help.
-rocksecution 2 - 04/07/10 - Was worried the anomaly might have had something to do with Klavier's absence. He found out that Klavier had only been ill and related to him about who was missing.
*-basiliscos 1 - 04/07/10 - Asked Menaeus if there would be a new commander for the Hawking, only to find out that he really didn't know.
-big_sis_lcie 1 - 04/09/10 - Greeted Lightning upon her arrival. He gave her some of the basic information. She seemed upset to learn that he'd been here for a month, but she claimed that she wasn't worried about time passing at home, so he wasn't sure what she meant.

*-kerhah 1 - 04/11/10 - When Farix arrived and brought with him combat machines to defend the ship from the rebel attack, Oliver offered to act as a navigator.
--He teamed up with Lightning in one of the combat machines.

-fallen_cetra 3 - 04/18/10 - Was shocked to see Aerith freeze some of the invading forces in time. They both wished each other well during the attack.

-bit_impossible 3 - 04/23/10 - During the search for bombs on the Uesugi, Oliver looked to the Doctor for guidance.

-piovuto 1 - 04/29/10 - Yamamoto arrived on the ship during the repairs, and Oliver greeted him.
-braceforjustice 1 - 05/03/10 - Apollo arrived during repairs, and Oliver greeted him as well.
-celestial_okami 3 - 05/03/10 - Was extremely impressed at the sight of Ammy using her Rejuvenation technique on the ship.
-chappi_fan 1 - 05/03/10 - Saw Rukia poking her sphere and decided to greet her.
-celestial_okami 005 - 06/02/10 - Upon seeing that Amaterasu was going to help cut the baleen, he asked her to be careful.

-fallen_cetra 004 - 05/09/10 - Aerith was trying to catch one of the armadillo-like creatures, and Oliver asked about what it was.
-big_sis_lcie - 05/12/10 - Questioned Lightning's method of getting the creature out of her room.
-rocksecution 003 - 05/13/10 - Watched a creature run around trapped under Klavier's uniform jacket.
-ypnotism 001 - 05/13/10 - Greeted a newly-arrived Molly and introduced himself.
-by_my_will - 05/16/10 - Saw Tieria fighting with one of the creatures and greeted him, assuming this was the same Tieria he knew from before. Helped him get his glasses back and capture the creature, then learned that this is a different Tieria--or the same Tieria but who no longer remembers. Revealed that they used to be friends and told him about where he's from and that he used to travel with the Doctor.
-mymuralspeaks - 05/21/10 - Greeted Mr. H upon his arrival and tried to help him find coffee and art supplies. Learned that he's from Shibuya and knows Neko and Joshua.

-ghostin_myshell 3 - 05/29/10 - As Motoko tried to help free the ship, a still-euphoria-influenced Oliver told her not to worry so much.
-bit_impossible 5 - 06/01/10 - Now free of the euphoria, Oliver asked the Doctor about how the conversation with the space whale went.

-basiliscos - 06/03/10 - Headed out with Lightning to cut the baleen and free the ships. Spoke with Lightning, Tieria, Ammy, Abel, Duo, Motoko, and Neil, sort of accidentally taking charge and coordinating the effort.
--He and Lightning moved on to Part 2 once the baleen was cut. Lightning used a low-level taser to attempt to tickle the whale, but Oliver was afraid of hurting it and used the mecha itself to nudge the uvula back and forth.

-fallen_cetra 5 - 06/06/10 - After their capture by the First, Oliver attempted to calm Aerith down while she was being deprived of sleep.
-big_sis_lcie - 06/07/10 - Responded when Lightning made a transmission from the cell where she was being deprived of sleep. He revealed that the First has been questioning him about the Crucible, Orion, and the Doctor, but he hadn't given them any information.
-blacks_lackey 5 - 06/08/10 - Saw Turlough playing chess with his dark self and found out that they were planning an escape attempt together.
-ypnotism 3 - 06/11/10 - Was worried Molly was hurt after her attempted escape and subsequent interrogation. Molly wasn't sure he'd want to talk to her anymore, and he offered to let her use hypnotism to find out, but she told him she wouldn't do that to him. She revealed some information about her past, including her introduction to hypnotism, the search for Rocky, and the discovery of her parents. Oliver told her about his rough recovery from the Puppeteer in order to encourage her that her mom just needed time. After that, he explained a bit about the Crucible and the time loop it was caught in. Molly said she wanted to sleep after that, but she asked if she could talk to Oliver again after they've escaped.
-bit_impossible 6 - 06/11/10 - Was alarmed by the Doctor's injured state, but he tried to make light of it.

-ypnotism 4 - 06/14/10 - After the box of items appeared in their cells, Oliver saw Molly attempting to build something. He suggested that the Doctor would be able to help.
-big_sis_lcie - 06/14/10 - Discussed whether or not this might be a trap with Lightning.
-by_my_will - 06/16/10 - At the sight of Tieria skeptically regarding the contents of the box, Oliver suggested that Menaeus must enjoy MacGyver.
-chainedrevolver 5 - 06/17/10 - Saw Noel looking frightened and feeling useless and decided to encourage her.
-bit_impossible 7 - 06/18/10 - Saw the Doctor was out and gave him a hard time for not getting out sooner.
-formboost 3 - 06/18/10 - Saw Sora's device explode and was worried about his health.

-blacks_lackey 6 - 06/22/10 - While unable to hear, was skeptical about Turlough's apparent desire to be left completely alone.
-kuroi_sanda 5 - 06/23/10 - Saw Manjoume eating while having a conversation with apparently no one (the Ojamas) and was curious. Discovered that he is currently blind and that Ojama Yellow was with him, helping him out.
-ynpotism 5 - 06/26/10 - Decided to help Molly when he saw her looking upset over the taste problems. They discovered that she could eat vegetables (which taste like candy) and he could eat broccoli (which tasted like chicken). Molly offered to teach Oliver how to hypnotise, but although he tried to agree, she could tell he didn't actually want to learn. They eventually decided that Molly would teach Oliver how to resist hypnotism, especially after Oliver told her what he knew about the Master and Molly revealed that she had already met him.

-blacks_lackey 7 - 06/30/10 - As he was working on deciphering the code, asked Turlough not to shout about how people shouldn't be shouting over the spheres. They bantered for a bit.
-ypnotism 6 - 07/03/10 - Discussed the code with Molly. Also found out that her twin brother was transported into the far future and recently saved. Then he and Molly met up so he could practice evading hypnotism. They decided to meet for tea and biscuits every morning to check up on each other and practice some more.

-celestial_okami 7 - 07/08/10 - Heard Ammy growling over the sphere when she was about to be trolled by a shadow. Went to Abel's room in an attempt to help them both and only ended up being pursued with them.

-big_sis_lcie - 07/23/10 - Mad from his false memories of Puppeteer possession, asked Lightning, who thought she was transforming, if she really wanted to die. He agreed to her request to be killed and went to her room, where Lightning gave him her gun. He tried to shoot her but was stopped by a sudden migraine. Lightning kicked him out of the room after that, not wanting to hurt him after she transformed.

-big_sis_lcie - 07/29/10 - Saw Lightning travelling in the Labyrinth and asked if she was okay.
-ypnotism 8 - 07/30/10 - After Molly fell out of a tree in the maze, Oliver also wanted to know if she was okay. He managed to find her and discovered that she had hit her head pretty hard and might have a concussion. Travelling through the maze together, they both apologised for what had happened the previous week. Molly even admitting that she and the Master had been plotting to kill him, and Oliver revealed that he had done more than just plan and actually hurt people. Oliver nearly fell into a hole (a trap), but Molly was able to stop time to save him. He convinced her that she wasn't useless like she thought, and they continued together.
-kuroi_sanda 7 - 07/31/10 - Saw Manjoume get sprayed with water and checked that he was all right.
-celestial_okami 8 - 08/02/10 - Checked whether or not Ammy was okay.
-has_sore_eyes 2 - 08/05/10 - Tried to offer Sally help in the maze.

-chappi_fan 5 - 08/09/10 - Responded to Rukia when she mentioned--discreetly--over the spheres that he still had her sword.
-bit_impossible 9 - 08/13/10 - Saw the Doctor thinking hard in the mess hall and decided to intercept him.

-chainedrevolver 6 - 08/23/10 - After returning to the ship, an anxious Oliver was concerned about Noel.

-ypnotism 9 - 09/09/10 - Saw Molly in hospital and asked how she was doing.

-mad_drummer_boy - 09/18/10 - Heard the Master address Molly and responded to him angrily. Made a deal with the Master to work with him if he promised to leave Molly alone.
-chappi_fan 7 - 09/21/10 - Saw Rukia in her pajamas with a wounded arm and was concerned.
-big_sis_lcie - 09/21/10 - Saw Lightning wake up wounded and was worried.
-not_that_lockon 1 - 10/12/10 - Was shocked and excited at Lyle's appearance in this universe again.
-kuroi_sanda 8 - 10/16/10 - Expressed his concern to the swimming Manjoume.

-fallen_cetra 8 - 11/04/10 - Saw Aerith struggling in the water and was worried about her.
-has_sore_eyes 3 - 11/06/10 - Tried to break the tension by joking with Sally.
*-basiliscos - 11/13/10 - Had a talk with Menaeus about the current situation on the ship, especially the memory loss and visions.

-blacks_lackey 15 - 11/17/10 - Argued opinions about the current ship situation with Turlough.
-ghostin_myshell 6 - 11/17/10 - Expressed his concern for Motoko now that the truth has begun to come out.

-chappi_fan 9 - 12/10/10 - Spoke to Rukia after more of the truth came out.
-try_tobe_good 1 - 12/10/10 - Greeted Orlando upon his arrival.
*-basiliscos - 12/10/10 - Demanded answers from Menaeus. Found out he and Farix are related to Orion and had their memories tampered with, too.
-bit_impossible 12 - 12/11/10 - Discussed the current situation with the Doctor.
-canniballistic 8 - 12/11/10 - Took Abel up on his offer of Charades.

-gategolfer 1 - 01/08/11 - Greeted Jack excitedly upon his arrival.
-piloted02 1 - 01/13/11 - Invited a newly-arrived Duo to a snowball fight.
-ariaofsoma 4 - 01/13/11 - Remarked on Soma's camouflage abilities in the snow.
-bit_impossible 13 - 01/20/11 - His attention was caught by the Doctor trying to get into what he thought was the TARDIS.
-chappi_fan 10 - 01/20/11 - Heard Rukia chasing after Ichigo and was interested to meet him.

-canniballistic 9 - 02/01/11 - Was concerned when Abel mentioned feeling light-headed while searching the outer rim.

-bit_impossible 14 - 02/12/11 - Was worried by the sight of the Doctor in tears.
-chappi_fan 11 - 02/14/11 - Chased after Rukia as she tried to escape the bio-dome with a rabbit.

-chappi_fan 12 - 03/04/11 - Saw Rukia trying to use her teleporter.

*=NPC interaction

Logs:
-04/12/10 - With the ships under attack, Oliver navigated one of the combat machines while Lightning took care of the weaponry.
--The Doctor took up a comm station, and Oliver felt guilty for getting sucked into the fighting. He reluctantly revealed his location to the Doctor but insisted that he had to do this in order to help protect the ship. The Doctor said that he trusted him and just insisted that he be careful.
--Lightning was annoyed at the Doctor's interference when he had no authority, and Oliver tried to convince her to listen to him. To his relief, she agreed not to kill the enemies unless she had to in order to protect their own lives. Unfortunately, when the smaller ships retreated, they watched in horror as a much larger ship moved to ram the Hawking. Oliver was forced to move them out of the way, reluctantly, before it killed them for being in its path.
--Turlough announced that he was secondary backup, and Oliver was surprised that he'd gotten pulled into this, too. When Turlough discovered where Oliver was, he told him just what he thought of Oliver's decision to get into the thick of the fighting.

-05/07/10 - Oliver and the Doctor met up on the Biostation and were finally able to talk about the anti-Alliance attack and the role Oliver had played by piloting one of the fighting machines.
-07/03/10 - Oliver spotted Rukia carrying Ichigo's body down the corridor in the Uesugi and was startled by the sight. She explained that it was a robotic body, meant as a child's toy, and it could hold a personality that was currently in a stuffed bear. She described the personality as being defective and annoying and fond of women. Oliver got the impression she wasn't telling the whole story, but he didn't press her.

Application for gauntlet_rpg

2010-03-14T19:47:32Z

Player Information
Name/Nickname: Megumi
Livejournal Username: kmegumi2
AIM/MSN/Yahoo: E-mail: kmegumi2@yahoo.com
Timezone: US Central
Current Characters: None

Character Information
Name: Oliver Day
Fandom: Doctor Who (Books)
Age: 26 (though his travels with the Doctor have made him a bit fuzzy on this point)
Gender: Male
OU, AU, or RU: RU
Assignment: IACC-Hawking

Appearance: Oliver is about six feet tall, with dark hair that is just slightly on the shaggy side and is usually left to roam free. He is thin and not very built, with soulful brown eyes that display the feelings that underlie his cheerful exterior. He also has a ready, warm smile. His only physical markings of note include several scars of varying length on his chest, back, and upper legs, which are generally covered by his clothing.

Oliver can most often be found in T-shirts (usually plain, concert, or TV-related) and a pair of blue jeans, as well as his beloved and increasingly well-worn (but still as comfortable as ever!) trainers.

My PB for him is Christian Coulson: http://www.imdb.com/media/rm3164246272/nm0183469

History: Oliver is from Birmingham and a Brummie through-and-through, which is easy to recognize his accent. In 2006, he was a student of history at the University of Birmingham, working part-time as a waiter and at the library and living in a flat off-campus with his friends Samantha, Adam, Gavin, and his girlfriend Chloe. One day, Oliver bought a discount laptop from a salesman who turned out to have non-terrestrial origins. Soon after, a strange man in a long coat and bright scarf who called himself the Doctor found him, and Oliver discovered that he and his laptop were actually mixed up in an adventure with the fate of two dimensions at its center. After it was over and the laptop had been destroyed, Oliver asked if he could travel with the Doctor, and he quite unexpectedly found himself exploring time and space with him in his ship, the TARDIS. Traveling with the Doctor was the most exciting thing Oliver had ever done, and he enjoyed it immensely. He was able to see the past on Earth, travel to many other planets in the past, present, and future, and meet many alien races. The journey constantly involved saving people and planets and, occasionally, even the universe. He saw himself and the Doctor as a pair of do-gooders, helping the universe a little at a time.

The journey did not lack its dangers, however. During the fight against a particularly vicious alien monster, the Doctor managed to strand it on Earth, in Oliver’s time, in a building near his home. The adventure turned bad, the building exploded, and Oliver was nearly killed. He awoke in the hospital, full of tubes but still alive. The Doctor was gone--and so were Oliver’s memories of nearly the entire past year of his life.

As time went by after the accident, Oliver found that he was recovering not one set of memories of recent events, but two. He remembered his life as a student and with his girlfriend Chloe, and he knew that he had only been gone for a day before he was found at the site of the explosion. But at the same time, he remembered traveling with the Doctor for months throughout the universe. For a while, Oliver went to stay with his family. He cut himself off from others while attempting to sort out the truth of what had happened to him. But Chloe was not willing to let him go, and through their interaction, Oliver was able to verify his memories of his life with her. He attempted to forget about the Doctor and go back to his normal life, but he found that he could not.

Oliver realized that he couldn’t rest until he knew the truth about the Doctor’s existence. He couldn’t let go of the thought that he had been real, and he wanted to see him face-to-face to verify that--and so that he could tell him good-bye properly. He found a group of fanatics on the internet who were researching the Doctor, and he was surprised to see their pictures of the Doctor included one with him in it.

Soon after, he returned to the site of his accident. Someone from the website had contacted him to report a sighting of the TARDIS nearby. There, he discovered that the monster they had been fighting had not been destroyed. It escaped from the rubble, ready to kill him. However, before it could, Oliver heard a familiar sound. The TARDIS appeared, and the Doctor rescued him. Before he knew it, he was back to traveling time and space with the Doctor, secure in the promise that, one day, once he had seen everything he wanted to see and done everything he wanted to do, the Doctor would bring him back home to Chloe, an improved Oliver--“Oliver plus, if you like,” according to the Doctor.

Eventually on their travels, the Doctor and Oliver found out about a killer running rampant through the Earth Empire. This killer was a psychopathic brain parasite that possessed humans. It amplified their negative feelings and used them to kill others, considering itself “the sum of all our evil.” This killer, known as the Puppeteer, delighted especially in the destruction of the human form--not only killing its victims, but maiming and mutilating them.

They tracked the Puppeteer to Gondolla Spaceport, on the frontier planet of Gondovan in the 27th century. Once there, the Doctor sent Oliver to some of the local bars to try to gather more information. Unfortunately for Oliver, he happened to visit the bar where the Puppeteer (in its current host, a man named Sukhrit) was drinking. The Puppeteer followed Oliver out and cornered him in an alley, attacking him. Oliver was unable to protect himself, and the Puppeteer incapacitated him by beating him--but it did not kill him or cause any serious injuries. Instead, when Oliver had been knocked temporarily senseless, it left its host and entered Oliver.

The Doctor, worried when Oliver did not return, came upon the scene soon after. Oliver had apparently been attacked by a drunken man, who Oliver said fell unconscious the moment he got in a blow to his face. Sukhrit was taken to the hospital, and Oliver was treated for bruises and contusions. Inside Oliver, the Puppeteer watched and waited.

The Puppeteer wanted to kill the Doctor. Unfortunately for it, it needed to latch onto negative feelings toward the Doctor in Oliver to be able to gain the control necessary to attack him. Oliver, however, idolized the Doctor. The Puppeteer decided to bide its time, letting Oliver retain control, until it could gain the leverage it needed to kill the man.

Oliver, oblivious to the Puppeteer inside him, continued the investigation for two days before he and the Doctor were able to meet Annajin Valentin, an investigatory archivist who had also tracked the Puppeteer to Gondovan. They heard about her impending arrival from local authorities and caught up with her in the Royal Gondovan Hotel, offering to work together on the case. They soon found out that Anna had a very personal investment in this particular case--the Puppeteer had possessed her brother Sukhrit.

Anna broke down when she was convinced to reveal that fact, and Oliver took her to her hotel room to comfort her while the Doctor went to the TARDIS to get something that he claimed would help against the Puppeteer. In the room alone, Anna and Oliver talked for a long time. She began to feel rather fond of Oliver, and as they spoke about his home, she decided to ask him if he had anyone waiting there.

This was the break that the Puppeteer had been waiting for. As soon as Anna brought up Chloe, it reminded Oliver of his fear that he would never make it back to her and his frustration with the Doctor for never bringing him to see her. Oliver was extremely lonely inside, and the Puppeteer seized on that, amplifying it and turning it first to misery, then to anger. The Puppeteer was able to take control and turned on Anna. Instead of killing her right away, it taunted her. She tried to appeal to Oliver, but the Puppeteer revealed that he was trapped in a corner of his mind, screaming but unable to interfere.

The Doctor arrived then, and the Puppeteer used the interruption to go for Anna, locking its hand around her throat. It told the Doctor that it would kill Anna first and then kill him--and it would not be just the Puppeteer attacking. It claimed that Oliver hated him, for lying to him and separating him from Chloe, and Oliver would be ripping out his hearts along with the Puppeteer.

The Doctor seemed amused by the challenge and proceeded to press a button on a machine that he had brought with him. The machine was an ultrasonic skull resonator--it forced the Puppeteer out of Oliver's mind.

Oliver collapsed, and after the giant worm that was the Puppeteer had gotten clear of him, Anna attacked it fiercely, smashing it to pieces. Oliver awoke on the floor, mentally and physically exhausted and traumatized. The Puppeteer was not kind to its hosts. They retained memories of everything that had happened during their possession, and their bodies also suffered as they supported the creature.

Oliver spent the next two months hospitalized, recovering from the physical effects and trying to come to terms with the mental trauma. Anna stayed close to him and to her brother, who she learned had been hospitalized the night Oliver was possessed. She tried to support them both through their recoveries, feeling that it was all she could do. She blamed herself for bringing the Puppeteer to people close to her by pursuing it. The Doctor visited Oliver frequently as well.

After two months, Oliver was cleared to travel. The Doctor brought him the news--and offered that they take a trip to his home. To his surprise, Oliver refused. He insisted that he could never go home now. Even though the Puppeteer was gone, he could not forget the hate that he’d felt from it--nor the way it had amplified his dark feelings. Oliver had believed he was a good man, but the Puppeteer had showed him darkness inside that made him afraid of himself. He also feared that the Puppeteer may have done something long-term, and he decided that he could not risk hurting Chloe or his family. When Oliver would not change his mind, the Doctor left without him. Oliver was stranded on Gondovan in the year 2617.

Oliver spent more than a year on Gondovan, trying to build a new life with Anna’s help. She worked security at the spaceport, while Oliver had a job resettling refugees--helping people and trying to make up for the inner evil that still haunted him. He always loved and missed Chloe, but Anna slowly became more than a friend to him. They started to date casually. While Oliver’s physical wounds had long since healed, mentally he was still plagued by nightmares and haunted by his past--by the darkness from the Puppeteer, by the evil he had found inside himself, and by his decision to give up the people he loved forever.

Everything changed again after a particularly large group of refugees arrived on Gondovan, and Oliver met with one of them--a man by the name of Mikaeja. Mikaeja, as it turned out, had managed a questionable mining company, and his past caught up with him in the form of some of his former employees while Oliver was with him. The attackers used citroloform--a futuristic alternative to chloroform--with the intention of simply knocking out the innocent bystander. However, Oliver’s 21st century immune system didn’t have the expected immunities, and the chemical had a traumatic effect on his mind and, in particular, his memory.

It was at this point, unconscious and suffering from severe memory loss for the second time in his life, that Oliver awoke on the Crucible. He had no memory of what had happened to him. In fact, he had no memory of Gondovan whatsoever, nor anything that had happened there, including the Puppeteer. As best as he could remember, he had been traveling with the Doctor, which was exactly what he shared with the man when he almost immediately encountered the Doctor--in his Tenth incarnation--on the ship.

While confused and dismayed by the situation he’d been thrust into, his time on the Crucible started innocuously enough. He was able to meet another version of the Doctor, as well as the TARDIS in a human form--a very exciting prospect as he idolized the Doctor’s ship at least as much as the man himself. He also enjoyed meeting the other passengers, though the more that arrived, the more worrisome the situation became.

The anomalies on the ship--slight and little more than an annoyance at first--quickly began to worsen, and as they did, they brought with them the means to unlocking some of Oliver’s missing memories. The spheres began to transmit static at night--as well as voices from the past, which, in Oliver’s case, meant Annajin Valentin. When the Doctor attempted to help Oliver solve the mystery of the familiar-but-unidentifiable voice requesting his help, he inadvertently restored some of Oliver’s lost memories, causing the young man to have to deal with the trauma of the Puppeteer all over again--as well as bringing back his nightmares.

As the situation on the ship continued to deteriorate and Oliver struggled with his own mental state, he found himself growing steadily closer to his fellow passengers--helped in no small part by the nature of the ship’s anomalies, as he saw other passengers, including the TARDIS, trapped in the brig, then spent time himself trapped in the Envirodome with the Doctor and a hungry creature, and then watched as first the Doctor and then he himself were reverted briefly to children, causing both of them to reveal information they never would have otherwise. This time on the ship brought Oliver especially closer to this new Doctor who was and also was not the man he had known, as well as Lara Croft. The two of them worked together to help convince Oliver that the Puppeteer was truly dead and there was nothing inside him for him to fear. While their methods did not completely dispel his fears, they did help put him back on the road to recovery.

Then the situation on the ship became utterly dire as life support began to fail and the last of the missing levels opened up--including the bridge, which revealed the disturbing truth that the ship was headed toward a black hole. Oliver tried to keep the passengers’ morale up as best he could, believing the Doctor would find a way to solve the crisis, but his optimism failed him this time as they went into the black hole...only to wake back up in their rooms on a fully-restored ship.

His second cycle on the Crucible, spent primarily crashed on the planet Eos, marked a great deal of change for Oliver. He grew even closer to the ship’s passengers and met a lot of new ones, including Lyle Dylandy, who would be his best mate and drinking buddy for the rest of the experience. The anomalies also caused Oliver to reevaluate what he thought of himself and his plans for the future.

He was subjected to a loss of inhibitions, which, just his luck, affected him to a severe degree. He was also briefly turned into a female who had no memory of ever being male. While both of these situations were awkward and upsetting in a number of ways, they also taught Oliver things he was not aware of about himself. He spent his time without inhibitions chatting with people, asking all sorts of curious questions about their lives, running recklessly into a forest with poison gas, kissing a friend (which earned him a well-deserved punch from Lara), and baking biscuits. As a female, Olivia’s memories of Chloe conflicted with the life she thought she should have had, and this ability to distance herself from some of Oliver’s past allowed her to begin to move forward in ways that Oliver never had--even wearing clothing that plainly revealed the many scars s/he had received from the building explosion, showing a confidence in herself that Oliver had long since lost.

These events led Oliver--with a bit of prompting from the Doctor--to begin to be believe that the Puppeteer was really gone and there was no suppressed darkness inside of him waiting to get out. He agreed, at last, to travel again with the Doctor once they’d escaped from the ship. And, when he was done traveling, to go back home to Earth.

Unfortunately, this was soon followed by a wave of paranoia, which made Oliver believe that he was possessed by the Puppeteer again. He fought and attempted to injure Lara, the Doctor, and Lyle. Afterwards, much of the confidence Oliver had gained was gone, but he did begin to understand that he couldn’t try to take on everything that happened alone--and that living in fear could do more to make his fears become reality than the reverse. He also saw the Doctor’s reaction to the paranoia, just as he had also learned more about him during the loss of inhibitions. While they had both tried to hurt each other, they each understood afterwards that the other hadn’t meant for it to happen, and the event brought them closer together rather than driving them apart as they began to understand more about each other. Oliver agreed again to travel with the Doctor, but he was no longer so sure that he could go back home. He felt he needed to grow first--reach a point that he had conquered his fear enough to be safe to be around.

After another round through the black hole--which Oliver missed this time, having been consumed by one of the rooms already lost to the black hole on the wreckage of the Crucible--the third cycle began. Lara disappeared from the ship during this cycle, but Oliver was mostly able to distract himself from this sad change as events on the ship were taking a different turn this time--a turn that included unexpected communication from Orion, who had offered the Crucible passengers aid during the last cycle. The cycle was full of puzzles, which Oliver and the Doctor worked together on, as well as many of the other passengers. Oliver was proud and excited to be able to play an important role in what he hoped was the beginning of the end of their imprisonment.

This cycle also brought the added fun of the ship’s holo-suite, which Oliver used to learn more about his friends, such as getting to see Lyle’s gundam and the Doctor’s past selves. He also used it to see Chloe again, in a way--and the rest of his family, after some prodding from the Doctor, which just served to reinforce his resolve to become stronger so that he could go back home one day.

Late in the cycle, the situation took a dangerous turn when Oliver’s successes with previous puzzles caught up with him, and he got a riddle wrong--a move that cost him his barcode to the tune of a severe burn. Then the passengers found themselves unable to sleep. This problem seemed bad enough, but it soon passed, changing into the much worse alternative of being allowed brief forays into sleep, accompanied with being trapped in their now-ruined cabins with their worst nightmare. For Oliver, he had to watch a version of himself, possessed by the Puppeteer, kill Chloe and his parents, over and over again.

His friends quickly came to his rescue, and despite his protests, the Doctor, Lyle, and Donna got him out of his room the first time, and they--as well as others like Haruhi and Tieria--were there to support him in fighting off the nightmare once and for all. With their help, he was able to defeat it by, as it turned out, ignoring it. He did his best to help all his friends with their own nightmares, not wanting any of them to have to suffer either.

By this point, Oliver was finally beginning to realize that his fear and his own obsession with the Puppeteer--and his hesitation to get others involved in “his” problems--were the very reasons it still held sway over him. He renewed his determination to improve himself to the point where he would be able to go home, and this decision was only reinforced by the next of the ship’s anomalies--a foray into his greatest dream (with the accompanying advantage of restoring his barcode). He was able to see and interact with Chloe again and even introduce her to his friends on the ship. He realized that Chloe and his family would want him to come home, no matter how afraid he might be of himself. He finally acknowledged that his original decision to abandon them for the sake of their safety was the wrong one.

Soon after that, their last cycle on the ship began. The early portion of this cycle involved less-severe anomalies, just as the previous cycle had, but it was a very rough experience for Oliver. He, as ever it seemed, somehow managed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. As an anomaly that had shrunk him to a height of 30 centimeters ended, he was standing under a railing on the edge of a ledge on the shopping level. The resulting violent blow to his head from the railing, as well as the hard fall due to increased momentum as he grew to his normal size, injured him severely. The Doctor and Lyle were able to get him medical attention, but the Doctor had to put him into a coma for eleven days. After that, Oliver had to deal with a leg brace and some difficulty keeping track of long conversations, but he did recover over time, and he made sure to get involved in the situation on the ship as soon as he was awake.

The aforementioned situation on the ship was clearly different than in previous cycles and, in Oliver’s opinion, they were on their way toward breaking free of the time loop. Orion ended up on board, but injured, and with his help they attempted to find a way to take control of the ship from the captain. However, these attempts only resulted in retaliation from the captain, sending all of the rest of Orion’s fleet into the black hole. An enraged Orion disappeared, and the passengers had to deal with an entire spectrum of repeat anomalies from their entire tenure on the ship. But Oliver and the other passengers didn’t give up hope, and when Orion reappeared, ready to kill the captain, they were able to convince him not to and break the time loop at last.

While Oliver was overjoyed at their success and the subsequent discovery of the way home, he was also very sad to say good-bye to all the friends he had made on the ship and also terrified of the possibility--the likelihood, even--that he would not remember his time on the Crucible upon his return. The idea that he would lose the progress he had made and all the things that he had discovered about himself, not to mention the memory of all the friends he had met and everything that he and the Doctor were able to do together, was nothing short of horrifying. He didn’t want to go back to Gondovan and live out the rest of his life there, never knowing what a mistake he’d made and the opportunities that he had lost.

But both the Doctor and the TARDIS assured him that they would come for him, whether he retained his memory or not. The Doctor also offered him a way to hold onto his memories--he could hide them in a corner of Oliver’s mind, inaccessible, so that they would not be erased, and he would keep a copy in his own mind just in case. While this plan scared Oliver, not in the least because it required leaving the ship with no memory of it at all, he decided it was the best hope he had for not losing his memories. And, as ever, he trusted the Doctor more than anything, so he took the gamble. He said his good-byes to everyone, promising many of them that he and the Doctor would come to visit, before he finally asked the Doctor to alter his memories. With the Doctor’s guidance under the guise of a security officer, a confused Oliver was ushered through the Gate, not knowing the significance of the steps he was taking.

Oliver returned just where he’d left--unconscious from citroloform and suffering from even more severe memory loss than when he’d started. However, the Doctor kept his promise and arrived on Gondovan, just in time to get himself involved in Mikaeja’s attack and earn a hit over the head. He came to and was able to alert Emergency Services to Oliver’s predicament. In the hospital, he visited Oliver, who did not recognize him and had no idea where he was nor what had happened to him. In fact, he wanted to know where the Doctor had gotten to as, in his last memories, he had still been traveling with his Fourth self.

The Doctor soon activated the trigger that he had placed in Oliver’s mind. By revealing himself as the Doctor, Oliver’s memories of his time on the Crucible--as well as all the lost memories that he had regained while he was there--were restored to him. From there, he and the Doctor were able to rescue Mikaeja and uncover the details of just what trouble he had gotten himself into. The experience got Oliver buried in the rubble of another exploded building, but as he was trying to help Mikaeja out of the building at the time, the larger man took the brunt of the explosion. The Doctor was able to lead emergency workers to them both, and Oliver emerged with a twisted ankle and, unlike in the past, no less of a drive to travel the universe again. He said his good-byes to Anna, and then they were off!

As before, he and the Doctor spent a long time traveling the stars together. Oliver was able to see the universe and go back to helping and saving people all around it, just like old times. But unlike old times, the Doctor brought him to Earth, just after he’d sent Chloe an e-mail during his second journey with the Doctor, but in Japan. He bought Oliver a mobile phone, which he enhanced with the ability to call anyone anywhere. This gave Oliver a link to his family that encouraged him in what he needed to accomplish so he could go back to them. Oliver also found out during this trip that the walls between universes meant that he would not be able to meet any of friends from the Crucible again--a painful blow, but one that Oliver would eventually come to accept, however reluctantly.

Through their travels, Oliver did continue to heal, and while he wasn’t yet ready to admit that he was, perhaps, the “Oliver plus” that the Doctor had jokingly called him so long ago, the Doctor could see it. To Oliver’s surprise, their next adventure brought them to the Bull Ring in Birmingham, only six months after his e-mail to Chloe and eight months since his departure from home. He thought about protesting, but it was good to see Birmingham again, and he was left with little choice in the matter when their entrance into the shopping center was met with the sounds of gunfire.

As it turned out, the Autons were in the midst of an invasion of his hometown. As the Doctor went after the Nestene Consciousness, Oliver tried to protect the remaining shoppers and help them to escape. Then he went to find the Doctor, and while the Doctor distracted the Nestene and gave him instructions, Oliver was able to save the day by--as he understood it--banishing it back to its homeworld. Only the Doctor was aware that Oliver had actually destroyed the Nestene, knowing that Oliver would not have wanted to destroy it if he had known what his actions were actually doing.

With Birmingham safe again, Oliver brought the Doctor to the nearby St. Martin’s Church, where he unexpectedly found Chloe Elliot herself, as well as their flatmates Adam, Gaz, and Sam. As he talked with them again, at last, he discovered that they had been in the Bull Ring and seen what had happened there. They were understandably distressed by the apparent sight of aliens and showing varying degrees of acceptance toward the idea that they were, in fact, aliens, and that Oliver had been traveling in time and space to fight them. But despite any skepticism they might have been feeling, they were all equally glad to see him and excited that he had returned.

He slipped away to the TARDIS, and after a discussion with the Doctor, he decided that he would stay--on the condition that the Doctor promised to find someone else to travel with. If his time with the Doctor had taught him anything, it was that the Doctor needed someone to be there for him just as much as he needed the Doctor.

The Doctor hugged him and thanked him for everything he’d done, but never explicitly agreed to the promise. Oliver, overwhelmed with the decision he was making, took the Doctor’s gestures as assent and left the TARDIS, finally returning to Chloe and his friends and, soon after, his family.

He spent the next 16 days back at home. While he wasn’t able to give a proper explanation for his absence to anyone other than those who had seen the Autons, he was surprised to realize that everyone was simply happy to see him again. The adjustment to regular life was much easier than he had expected, aided as he was by the people that he loved.

Unfortunately, those 16 days would be all he would get before he found himself pulled by the Gate into another universe yet again.

(More background on the world of Doctor Who can be found here.)

Personality: Oliver is, more than anything, a cheerful person. He is always quick to laughter and to making jokes--especially when he’s upset or worried. He is also extremely idealistic--he believes that heroes aren’t only for TV shows. In his eyes, good, caring people really make a difference for others, and he wants to be a person like that.

Because of his belief in inherent goodness, Oliver is quick to trust and eager to help. He is aware that this opens him up to be tricked, but he would rather help someone who didn’t need it than turn away a person in need.

After his experiences with the Puppeteer, Oliver loses some of his idealism and begins to have more inner doubts about people. For the most part, he dismisses such worries, but there are definite changes in the way he regards himself. Although his time on the Crucible and with the Doctor afterwards has helped him to heal, he is still insecure and sometimes inwardly doubtful and distrusting of his own motives and desires, afraid that the darkness he experienced under the Puppeteer’s influence could still reemerge. However, despite his inner turmoil, Oliver continues to be a generally cheerful, optimistic person. Sometimes it is only a façade, but he also still loves people deeply and is eager to enjoy life to its fullest, especially now that he has been able to return to the life that he missed so much.

Oliver thinks of other people before he thinks of himself. If people around him are happy, he is happy. If people around him are sad, well, he’ll just have do something about that. He is always eager to offer encouragement or a shoulder to cry on, but in general, laughter is the best medicine. He sometimes gets a bit overzealous with jokes, especially in a serious situation. However, when he realizes the pain is beyond what a joke or two could help, Oliver can be a very good listener. He empathizes well with others.

On the flip side, Oliver is not good at expressing his own pain or worries. He usually bottles them up, hiding them behind jokes and putting on a cheerful face for the world, allowing the feelings to fester. This can sometimes lead to emotional breakdowns, but Oliver doesn’t mind much as long as he can lose it in private. When he is extremely upset, he withdraws from others, both so that he can express his emotions without anyone seeing him and because he stubbornly refuses to let his problems worry other people if he can help it.

Additionally, he has a tendency to freeze up in any situation in which he feels compelled to use physical violence. He can’t help remembering the Puppeteer and fearing that hurting another living being--even if it’s something like an attacking coyote or a monster--could bring him further along the path to becoming a killer himself, which leads to dangerous hesitation.

Oliver is very dependent on others. He is prone to loneliness and needs to connect with other people to feel valued. Outwardly, as long as he is helping people, that is enough for him. Inwardly, he craves the understanding of others and needs to be near someone close to him. If not, his loneliness grows despite being surrounded by people--loneliness that plagues him even as he bottles it up.

Oliver is very witty and good at thinking on his feet. He also has great people skills, due to his wittiness and sense of humor and also his natural empathy for others. Since traveling with the Doctor, he has become somewhat less open toward others in some ways. He is as social as ever, but he avoids discussing the details of his otherworldly experiences (outside of random jokes and references that tell very little of substance) and keeps his inner demons hidden from the general public. He is able to confide in Chloe--and to a certain extent in his other flatmates--but he is still reluctant to say too much about the negative things that he has experienced and prefers to tell them tales of his friends and the amazing adventures he was able to have.

Because Oliver is so quick to trust, he is a very trustworthy person in return. He would go to great lengths to keep a promise. Also, he loves very deeply. He cares greatly for his family and his girlfriend Chloe, for the Doctor, and for all the friends, past and present, that he feels so lucky to have had in his life.

Oliver is also a very physical person. He doesn’t have to know someone well to be willing to give them a hug or put a comforting hand on their shoulder when they’re upset. He wishes for the same physical comfort when he’s upset himself, but he would never ask for it.

As he was formerly a university student studying history (and planning to become one again), Oliver has a great appreciation for history and the importance of the past on the present and future. His travels with the Doctor have only made this aspect more acute. Oliver gets very excited in the presence of important historical figures or events, and he will not hesitate to show it.

Oliver is a huge fan of sci-fi, fantasy, and crime shows, and he has dabbled in comics, as well. Anything about heroes and good defeating evil is right up his alley. His favorite shows include 24, Battlestar Galactica, and Heroes. He also enjoys watching reality TV shows, but shh! Don’t tell anyone he said so. He has a tendency to make references to shows in real life situations; he loves to joke about how they compare. If you asked why, he’d probably say that it adds to the adventure. He wouldn’t admit that sometimes it’s his way of trying to minimize the severity of the reality.

Strengths: Oliver is a normal human being with no special abilities. He has little fighting experience--mostly just random skills picked up while traveling with the Doctor. He is slightly on the athletic side, and he can also hold his breath for longer than the average human (blame his older brother). He has very steady hands, which does occasionally come in handy (such as when you can save an alien race by playing a carnival game) but not often. He is a history buff and a pop culture buff. In addition to his TV-referencing habits, he loves rock music. His favorite band is The Killers. Since being stranded on Gondovan, his pop culture repertoire has diversified somewhat, meaning he can spout off even more random knowledge than ever before!

Weaknesses: Oliver would not be able to stand up to physical attacks from anyone with reasonable skill. He is very much your average sort of bloke and also has no weapons training. And he can’t stand broccoli. At all. He has an irrational fear of hospitals as well, as they remind him too much of the trauma he’s suffered in the past. He also seems to be oddly prone to head wounds and memory loss.

Sample: [at first, he can only stare at the hologram, swallowing hard to fight back his nausea. he can’t help disbelieving the very familiar sight because he knows exactly who this is, and he knows what his presence must mean, and it’s only the shock that keeps him from speaking before he realises he would have been addressing a hologram. as it is, this discovery gives him the opening he needs to express his current feelings without fear of repercussions]

No... No! Damnit! I was...finally...

[sighs, slumping slightly on the bed as his sudden movement has brought on a renewed wave of nausea. fights it, putting a hand to his mouth. the worst of the sensation quickly passes, and he shifts his attention to attempting to focus on the rest of Orion’s message. understandably, it does not help his frame of mind] Oh, no way... Endangering the universe!? You could be endangering all universes! How did that even happen!? What happened to destroying the Gate? The Doctor...

[but his voice catches at that, the emotions too many to sort through at the moment, especially with his stomach churning rather alarmingly. instead, he considers his next move--which doesn’t take much thought, truth be told. he's never been one to sit still, especially when the universe needs saving. so he pulls himself up, pausing again as his stomach knots at the movement, then reaches for the desk and its blue button]

Orion? It’s Oliver--Oliver Day. I don’t know if you remember me, but...well, I remember. All of it. [swallows hard] I want to help again. If what you say is true, there’s a lot more than your universe to worry about. I mean, not that I wouldn’t do this anyway, but... Well, what I’m trying to say is, how can I help?

And...is anybody else here yet? [his expression turns hopeful. maybe being back here again won’t be all bad...]

Song Meme

2010-01-24T02:28:11Z

1. Put your mp3 player on shuffle and take the first 25 songs it gives you.
2. Link to the lyrics.
3. Let your friends assign you a song and character(s) to write a drabble to.

Song:
Character:
Preferred pairing or other characters to include?:
Would you like me to include your muse?:

Characters:
Oliver Day - oliverplus
C'rizz - justcrizz
Dodo Chaplet - eagerbird
Steven Taylor - rashandreliable
Olivia Day - ephemeral_day

1. Too Much To Ask - Avril Lavigne - [Lyrics]
2. Gotas De Agua Dulce (Drops of Fresh Water) - Juanes - [English Lyrics]
~~3. Escapar (To Escape) - La Oreja de Van Gogh - [English Lyrics]~~ -Olivia, for bit_impossible
4. Going Under - Evanescence - [Lyrics]
5. About Me - Utada - [Lyrics]
6. The Trial of Lancelot - Heather Dale - [Lyrics]
7. You Learn - Alanis Morissette - [Lyrics]
8. I Want You - Savage Garden - [Lyrics]
9. Do This Anymore - Nickelback - [Lyrics]
10. The Middle - Jimmy Eat World - [Lyrics]
11. Concorde - Amaral - [English Lyrics]
12. Headlights on Dark Roads - Snow Patrol - [Lyrics]
13. In This Diary - The Ataris - [Lyrics]
14. Dead Wrong - The Fray - [Lyrics]
~~15. This Is Your Life - Switchfoot - [Lyrics]~~ -Oliver, for bit_impossible
16. Sahara - Nightwish - [Lyrics]
17. River of Dreams - Billy Joel - [Lyrics]
18. Let Me Fall - Josh Groban - [Lyrics]
~~19. Duck and Run - 3 Doors Down - [Lyrics]~~ -Steven, for bit_impossible
20. Bones - The Killers - [Lyrics]
21. Lluvia de Mayo (Never Stopped Loving You) (May's Rain) - Kabah - [English Lyrics]
22. Eric's Song - Vienna Teng - [Lyrics]
23. When You Cry - Vertical Horizon - [Lyrics]
24. My Lover's Gone - Dido - [Lyrics]
25. Until Kingdom Come - Kamelot [Lyrics]

And, since I decided to include some songs in Spanish:

Gotas de Agua Dulce (Drops of Fresh Water) - Juanes

I’ve gone a long time without falling in love
With eyes so beautiful
That have in common an exuberant shine

It was what was least in my plan
Although I admit to you that sometimes I would dream
Of the beauty of your gaze

I want to carry the rhythm of your heart
To dance this song between us two
The truth is I'm starting to fall in love again
The truth I want you to know is that

What I feel for you is love
Desire that makes my heart useful
A drug that makes me immune when faced with pain
Drops of fresh water, ray of sun

What I feel for you is love
Desire that makes my heart useful
A drug that makes me immune when faced with pain
Drops of fresh water, ray of sun

Take me, if necessary
Through the portrait of your shadow
I know that you catch the light
And in my life you appear
Like the white doves
When they take the plaza
With immortal flight

I want to carry the rhythm of your heart
To dance this song between us two
The truth is I'm starting to fall in love again
The truth I want you to know is that

What I feel for you is love
Desire that makes my heart useful
A drug that makes me immune when faced with pain
Drops of fresh water, ray of sun

What I feel for you is love
Desire that makes my heart useful
A drug that makes me immune when faced with pain
Drops of fresh water, ray of sun

It's what I feel for you...

Escapar (To Escape) - La Oreja de Van Gogh
Suddenly you,
And I feel safe
Suddenly I,
And your gaze takes off years

Suddenly here,
Instead of opposite I sit at your side
Suddenly today,
We’re already celebrating the first summer

As we toast to this time,
And to all those that remain
With the tears that yesterday
Were my condemnation

And to escape together from here,
Together by hand,
Giving a jump and to feel,
Liberty and the value of choosing
To give* you my life.

And to run together to the end,
Together by hand,
I only desire you,
To be your half in this sort of life
The rest of my days

Suddenly you,
And my watch goes back to marking the time
Suddenly I,
And you so beautiful that you don’t know how to see it

Suddenly here,
And it sounds good until our silences
Suddenly today,
Now we laugh about that first kiss

As we toast to this time,
And to all those that remain
With the tears that yesterday
Were my condemnation

And to escape together from here,
Together by hand,
Giving a jump and to feel,
Liberty and the value of choosing
To give* you my life.

And to run together to the end,
Together by hand,
I only desire you,
To be your half in this sort of life
The rest of my days

As we toast to this time,
And to all those that remain
With the tears that yesterday
Were our condemnation

And to escape together from here,
Together by hand,
Giving a jump and to feel,
Liberty and the value of choosing
To give* you my life.

And to kiss at every awakening,
In all your ways
That you want to give* me

To make out of your name
One of those words
With that value
That is feeling

We will live the smiles
That destiny asked us

*Literally, “to give as a gift”

Concorde - Amaral

What truth
What sad reality
Emerged out of nothingness
And rises in front of me
I feel small
But never more
Trusting

What was it like?
How was the sensation
Of seeing how my hands in the fire
Were burning for you?

Now nothing will be the same
It’s the end
Of innocence

You will no longer see the concord
Flying above our heads

It was going to be
A cruel song
Written in your honor
That would take this venom out of me
But in a dream I saw
Your soul
Ruined

And upon waking I cried
Because once
I thought I was your sister

Now nothing will be the same
It’s the end
Of innocence

You will no longer see the concord
Flying above our heads

Lluvia de Mayo (Never Stopped Loving You) (May's Rain) - Kabah

*Time passes and it’s proof
That I haven’t stopped loving
Your life, my life, I already know
That you don’t think about me
Time passes and it’s proof
That I can’t forget
That you don’t think about me

I wake up and know that I can’t anymore
From so much thinking, I’m not going to forget
That afternoon I didn’t see you return
May's rain on my skin

For so many hours, lost in the distance
I feel that silence once again

**Time passes and it’s proof
That I haven’t stopped loving
Your life, my life, I already know
That you don’t think about me
Time passes and it’s proof
That I can’t forget
Your life, my life, I already know
That you don’t think about me
That you don’t think about me

I don’t want to eat
Why leave
If you don’t want to see me
If you don’t think about me
Every afternoon I feel May's cold rain on my skin again

For so many hours, lost in the distance
I feel that silence once again

** Repeat

For so many hours, lost in the distance
I feel that silence once again

No, I don’t know what I should do
I can’t continue like this
You’re not going to return
And I have to accept
That you no longer feel for me
What I feel for you
Come because I want to you to be together with me

** Repeat
* Repeat

Request away! I want to get back to writing regularly.

Ivory Maiden 3

2010-01-10T17:19:08Z

Title: The Ivory Maiden
Part: 3/7
Rating: PG
Word Count: 5186
Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
As always, special thanks to vampydirector for her fabulous beta help! Also, in this case, for helping to inspire events for which Oliver may never forgive me.

Tirik stayed where he was for another moment, looking at both the Doctor and Oliver for encouragement before he very slowly began to shuffle along the street in the direction in which he had originally pointed. The two passed him as they went--the Doctor due to impatience and Oliver so that he could grab the boy’s hand. He gave it a squeeze and then a gentle tug, and Tirik reluctantly increased his pace a bit--luckily for them, as the Doctor was getting progressively farther ahead.

They kept to side streets and very carefully didn’t go anywhere near the path leading to the museum. While the Doctor told them that it was possible that only the men they had encountered before would be after Oliver, he believed the psychic control was more powerful than that, and he didn’t want to try their luck. That was quite a statement, coming from the Doctor, so neither Oliver nor Tirik felt any inclination to argue.

“What’s this psychic control for, anyway?” Oliver asked, frowning thoughtfully as they peered around a corner and, seeing the coast was clear, made their way down another street.

The Doctor gave him a rather familiar look, his eyes widening slightly in confusion as to why Oliver even felt the need to ask. “In order to make those people subservient to some other power, of course.”

Oliver made a face. “Yeah, but they didn’t seem to have any sort of mission or anything,” he protested. “They just wanted to watch the statue.” He frowned, his gaze darkening as an idea occurred to him. “But...maybe that’s just because whoever it is wants to get everyone in town under their control before they make their move.” His eyes widened as the train of thought traveled even further. “What if these people are going to be used to do something awful!? Like...like murder other people. Or themselves. Or be used in a war...”

“Oliver, you are letting your mind run away with you!” the Doctor chided. “There are typically limitations to this sort of control. In fact, it’s very difficult for most psychic waves to cross certain lines in the nature of the species being controlled. And from what we’ve seen of Tirik here, I believe basic Filioran nature is very much like human in some of those key areas. There should still be a certain degree of choice involved--especially in matters of life and death. Still,” he added, his expression stormy. “I wouldn’t recommend testing it.”

Oliver’s face blanched, and he turned to the Doctor with frightened understanding. “Which whoever it is might just do if they hear about somebody planning to destroy the statue.”

The Doctor gave him a solemn look. “They just might.”

Oliver swallowed hard. “Tirik, think we could go any faster?”

The boy, however, had stopped dead in his tracks. “They’re going to hurt my father?”

Oliver’s eyes widened. He turned toward Tirik, shaking his head vehemently, and gave his hand another reassuring squeeze. “No. Not if we can get to Sorodum and stop them! And we need you for that.”

The boy swallowed hard, gazing up at him with glistening eyes. “I’m scared,” he whispered.

“So are we,” Oliver said. At a sound from the Doctor, he amended, “Well, I am, at any rate. But it’s all going to work out because we’ve got each other. So let’s just concentrate on getting to Sorodum so we can stop all this. All right?”

Tirik was silent for a moment, but then he nodded. He broke into a sudden run, tugging on Oliver’s arm this time. “Then let’s go! Let’s help everybody!”

Oliver grinned. “Now that’s more like it.”

The Doctor shook his head slightly in amusement, wondering how like Tirik Oliver must have been at that age.

***

It didn’t take long to reach the edge of town--especially not after one of the natives left his house when they had just walked past it. The man had immediately begun to charge at Oliver, and, needless to say, Tirik had run even faster from that point on. Losing the man had required some zigzagging and brief usage of the sonic screwdriver, but they had definitely gained more time than they had lost in the end.

Oliver had been expecting them to enter the outskirts of the town at any moment now, but the area they found themselves in wasn’t outskirts--it could only accurately be described as an edge. Unlike the cities he knew, which slowly petered out through decreasing density of buildings, or towns, which typically faded almost imperceptibly from one into the next, only distinguished by each new downtown you came to, this town ended quite literally on a fully visible line where neatly-trimmed lawns abruptly gave way to overgrown grassland.

“Whoa,” Oliver breathed as he gazed between buildings at the swiftly-approaching swath of wilderness. “Not exactly inviting people to visit their neighbors, are they?”

“It’s forbidden,” Tirik reminded him, whispering as he gazed in wide-eyed fear at the grasses beyond his home.

“Yeah, but some people must go sometimes, right? I mean, if the genders are separated, and, well...” Oliver gestured rather vaguely at the boy, not entirely sure whether he wanted him to catch his meaning or not.

Tirik didn’t. He just frowned at him in confusion.

“Don’t the men and women meet at some point?” Oliver asked sheepishly.

“Oh! Yes, but they don’t leave Fratedum. The women come here for the Festival.”

“Festival?” the Doctor repeated. “And what sort of festival is that?”

“The Festival of the Goddess,” the boy replied, his tone betraying that he still hadn’t quite wrapped his mind around the fact that these two were not from his world and honestly didn’t know what any of the everyday events and traditions were. He added, as though expecting them to find the explanation familiar, “The women come to the town square, and they bring baby boys to some of the men. Then they stay with the ones who don’t have little children, so no one is ever lonely during the Festival.”

Oliver snickered. “That’s one way of putting it,” he muttered, grinning faintly in amusement. The Doctor shot him a look, and he shrugged innocently.

“All right then,” the Doctor said before Tirik could respond. “It seems it’s time for us to head out on our own.”

“What?” Oliver’s amusement disappeared in an instant. He leaned toward the Doctor, asking quietly, “But what if those people aren’t just after me?”

The Doctor gave him a different sort of look this time. “That’s a safer chance to take than bringing him with us,” he said. “We know they won’t hurt him, and if this statue is meant to have come from their goddess, then I have a feeling we’ll soon be meeting its maker.”

Oliver would have laughed if he hadn’t been so worried about Tirik. “Ah, yeah. You’re right.” He let go of Tirik’s hand and turned to the boy, leaning down again. “You go stay somewhere safe for now, okay, Tirik? And don’t go anywhere near that statue.”

“But I want to save my dad,” the boy protested. “I thought I had to go to Sorodum?”

“No, you just had to get us there. So you know what? You probably just did save him.” Oliver gave the boy a smile. “So you concentrate on staying safe now, all right? In case we need your help again later. After all, there’s no one else in Fratedum we can count on!”

Tirik considered that reasoning, and Oliver smiled as reassuringly as he could. Finally, the boy gave another nod. “I’ll be at home,” he promised. He pointed up the street. “Go three blocks that way, and it’s a yellow house on the left. Number 10. Come get me when you need help. I’ll be brave again!”

“I know; you’re good at that. And we will,” Oliver promised. He gave the boy a pat on the shoulder. “Now you get going home. We’ll see you then.”

Tirik nodded again, clearly proud to be called brave, but he hesitated before saying, “Good-bye. Good luck!”

There was an awkward moment then in which Tirik watched Oliver and the Doctor, as if expecting them to reconsider, but only received an encouraging smile from Oliver, along with the Doctor looking at him with a twinkle in his eyes that really could have meant anything. The boy frowned, but then nodded resolutely one more time before he turned and hurried off.

Oliver let out a sigh of relief.

“That was a rather convincing lie,” the Doctor commented. Oliver turned, meeting his gaze with troubled eyes. “Compared to your usual attempts.”

“Yeah, well, needs must and all that,” the young man said, his tone subdued. “But we’ve got more important stuff to worry about right now, don’t we?”

The Doctor grinned. “When we get there, be on the look out for a clothing shop.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “A clothing shop? What for?”

“Oh, Oliver!” the Doctor cried in exasperation. “Think about it. We’re infiltrating a town populated only by women.”

“Yeah, so…oh. Ohhh no.”

The Doctor gave him a toothy grin.

Oliver laughed, shaking his head. “You’re not going to be very convincing, you know.”

The Doctor pouted at him. “And you’ll be more convincing, will you?”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “You’re on now,” he declared. And without another word, he took off running into the grassy field.

“Oliver!” the Doctor cried, alarmed, grabbing his hat so he wouldn’t lose it as he hurried after him. “Stealth!” he hissed.

Thankfully, Oliver turned and, at the look on the man’s face, stopped and waited for him to catch up. “What’s wrong?”

“Did staring at that statue empty your head!?” the Doctor demanded. “Anyone could see us out here!”

“And how’s walking more slowly gonna help? It’s an open field!”

The Doctor shook his head, staring at him in exasperation. “Just be quiet and follow me, got it?” he said sharply.

Oliver frowned, chastened. “Yeah.”

“Good.” The Doctor started forward again, gazing ahead of them and scanning the horizon not only in the hopes of seeing the other town but also of catching sight of any intervening obstacles they might encounter. After all, he was long used to all variety of defenses that off-limits places tended to employ.

Luckily for them, it appeared this area was only employing the rather ineffective defense of convincing the populace that it was utterly forbidden and then scaring and conditioning them with that idea for long enough that no other defenses were needed--until a couple travelers from far away decided to sneak in, at least.

All told, the two towns weren’t far apart. After only about 20 minutes of walking, Oliver and the Doctor reached another sudden change in which grassland quite abruptly became a street lined with houses. However, both were struck by the difference between this town and the town they had just left. These houses, unlike the perfectly neat and well-kept ones in Fratedum, showed signs of wear-and-tear, including peeling paint and broken shingles. The gardens were a bit yellow, and at least two in their line of sight were somewhat overgrown.

“Looks like the women don’t have it as good as the men,” Oliver remarked, frowning as he and the Doctor crouched by the side of a house on the very edge of town.

“No,” the Doctor agreed thoughtfully. “I’m sure there’s a reason for that.”

Oliver glanced at him, but when it became clear the Doctor had no intention of elaborating, he whispered, “Any ideas for before we reach a clothing shop?”

“Gardens, of course,” the Doctor replied, his thoughtful mood immediately disappearing. Without another word of warning, the Doctor stood and headed off around behind the house.

“You’d better hope they don’t have dogs!” Oliver hissed after him, but he followed all the same.

As it turned out, their method worked well--outside of the slight complication of one fence they had to scale and one woman in a window who required them to hide behind an old tree.

“On the bright side, we’ve now confirmed they’re all the same race,” the Doctor whispered as they hid.

“Yeah, the women look like rock star hobbits, too.”

The Doctor looked slightly appalled at the description, but the woman stepped away from the window and disappeared into the house then, and he apparently decided not to waste the time to comment. “Come along.”

They continued making their way through gardens for another block, encountering several more close calls and a few scrapes from splintering fences--as well as a sore limb or two from dropping off a fence a bit too early to avoid detection by a woman who had chosen that precise moment to step into her garden. After that, however, they turned into a street full of shops.

“Back door?” Oliver asked, glancing at the Doctor after they had both laid eyes on the shop with smartly-dressed mannequins in the window.

The Doctor didn’t bother to respond; he only pulled out his sonic screwdriver. “Quickly.”

Oliver nodded, staying low and rushing after him as he headed around the back of the store, using the screwdriver on the employee entrance and going inside.

“Lotvi? Is that you?” called a voice from within the store at the sound of the opening door.

Oliver winced. The Doctor put a finger to his lips and gestured toward a stack of boxes in the corner. Oliver took his meaning, and they quickly slid themselves between the boxes and the wall. Thankfully, the boxes were heavy enough that they could nudge them without knocking them over, and they were also set with a small space before the wall. It was an awkward hiding place, requiring them to crouch in rather squished positions, but hopefully it was good enough, and really, they shouldn’t be stuck in there for long.

Peering through a space between boxes, Oliver watched as a woman with green hair entered the room uncertainly. “Lotvi?” she asked again. She stopped, studying the area for a moment before she sighed, stepping up to the back door and closing it. “This old building. We’ll earn enough to fix you up soon, I promise.” She patted the doorframe before turning and heading back into the store proper.

The Doctor and Oliver waited a moment more, just to be safe, before extricating themselves from their hiding place.

Oliver winced, cracking his neck. “It looks like they’ve got some extra apparel in the corner there,” he whispered. He gestured to an alcove full of hanging clothing that he’d noticed while they were waiting.

The Doctor grinned, putting a finger to his lips and making his way there. He pulled a pink hat with a large flower on its front off a shelf above the racks, trading it for his own. “What do you think?” he asked softly.

Oliver couldn’t respond, as he was too busy covering his mouth and fighting back his laughter. The Doctor took this for approval and turned back to his task of changing his wardrobe. Oliver eyed the remaining clothing choices for a moment before reluctantly giving in to the inevitable and moving to do the same.

It didn’t take long for the two to supplement their clothing with attire more appropriate to their surroundings. The Doctor was now wearing the pink hat, as well as a long, fur-lined coat draped with his own scarf and jewel-studded pink boots that probably would have been tall if they weren’t meant for a much shorter race. Without any wigs at their disposal, Oliver attempted to conceal his hair with a wide-brimmed white hat. He had a scarf of his own, though his was solid red in color with gold trim. He had pulled on a red jumper that hid the words on his white T-shirt and was just barely long enough to reach his hips. His jeans still looked somewhat out-of-place, but there was nothing for it--not with this selection. He hoped the short red boots, topped with red fake fur, would help draw attention away from them--if walking on the slight heel didn’t kill him first.

“Well, I think these are rather good on such short notice, don’t you?” the Doctor said with a grin. Then he frowned, clearing his throat and attempting a much higher-pitched voice. “Shall we head into town, Olivia?”

Oliver gave him a look that most definitely wasn’t meant to solicit the grin it got in response. “Lead the way, Doctor Jane Smith.”

“Watch your pitch, Olivia! And it’s just Doctor, thank you.”

Oliver sighed before he spoke again, making his own attempt at a higher pitch now. “Is this better?”

“Much better, my dear! Now come along.”

“Before our voices break some glass and bring the owner running,” Oliver joked as he and the Doctor carefully exited the shop.

“Actually, the pitch and tone of the human voice required to...”

Oliver was distracted from the Doctor’s typical rambling as they properly entered the town square for the first time. The locals milling about it immediately turned to look at them, but Oliver attempted to squash his nervousness by firmly reminding himself that his and the Doctor’s height, if nothing else, would draw attention to them no matter what.

The Doctor waved at them, apparently as distracted from his previous rambling as Oliver had been. “Hello,” he said, remembering to keep his voice high-pitched. “I’m the Doctor, and this is my friend Olivia. We’re looking for the famous sculptor.”

Oliver shot the Doctor a look, surprised by that rather specific request, but he immediately realized the merit it held. That was what the Doctor had meant about meeting the statue’s maker. If it had come from a goddess, then a woman must have sculpted it. Of course!

“You mean the lady Pafos?” asked a young girl with blue hair. Most of the other people in the area were staring at them apprehensively, but her youth seemed to exempt her from their reluctance. She took a curious step toward them.

“Pafos?” the Doctor repeated, his eyes twinkling. He glanced at Oliver significantly, but Oliver couldn’t for the life of him work out why. “Yes, I believe I do. Where could we find her?”

The girl laughed. “At her workshop! Where else would she be?”

“A very wise question,” the Doctor agreed. “And where is her workshop?”

The child raised a stubby finger, pointing deeper into the town. Both men leaned forward a bit, expecting directions to follow, but she just smiled at them.

“And how far do we go that way?” Oliver prompted.

The girl shrugged.

“Then how about you take us there?” the Doctor offered. That appeared to be the exact wrong thing to say.

“Alinete!” cried a teal-haired woman sharply, rushing over and scooping up the girl in her arms. She was a particularly squat woman and had a rather imposing amount of girth, which was not aided by her froggish face currently set in an extremely disapproving frown. “You should never talk to strange women. Hasn’t your mother taught you anything?”

“We’re sorry about that. She was just giving us directions.” Oliver fought the urge to cough, wondering how the Doctor was managing to say so much in such a high-pitched voice. He gave a reassuring smile.

The woman harrumphed at him. “Directions to what?”

The Doctor smoothly stepped in. “To see the lady Pafos. You wouldn’t happen to be able to point us in the right direction, would you?”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “And what do you need to see her for?”

“To get her autograph.” Oliver gulped as the woman turned her icy stare on him. “We’ve been admiring her work, and....well, we want to thank her for it. And take an autograph of hers home with us! ...if we can.”

“Where are you even from?” the woman countered.

“Another town, off...that way.” The Doctor pointed in a direction that Oliver didn’t think was where they’d come from--or maybe it wasn’t meant to be? “What my young friend means is she wants a memento from someone whose work has inspired her greatly. We’ve traveled a long way to see the lady. Would it really be impossible?” He leaned in close to her, giving her an earnest look with his wide eyes.

The woman regarded him for a moment more, but then she sighed. “All right,” she agreed begrudgingly. “But you’d best take care not to waste the lady’s time. She doesn’t appreciate having her time wasted.”

Oliver grinned. “All right!” And, realizing his tone had slipped, he quickly added in an especially high-pitched voice, “Thank you ever-so-much, ma’am.”

The woman had narrowed her eyes again and was looking directly at him. She didn’t say anything, but Oliver swallowed, wishing she didn’t have one of those gazes you could feel. Still, after a moment she carefully set the girl down, giving her a pat on the head. “Run along, Alinete. I’ll be back soon.” Without watching to see what the girl did, she turned and began to shuffle her way through the crowd, walking with a pronounced limp. Oliver threw the Doctor a glance, but the man was already starting after her, whistling faintly to himself.

The sculptor’s house wasn’t far from the main square, which was just as well since their guide’s labored walking made it seem like quite a long trip anyway. The little girl followed them tentatively at first, but the woman turned around and gave her an icy look only a moment after they’d started. The child scampered off very quickly at that.

Eventually the woman stopped in front of a small house--small by Oliver’s standards, at least; it was visibly the largest one on the street. It was also clearly the fanciest and the best-kept. It was almost completely white and had a porch held up by wooden columns, rounded, painted, and textured so that they looked as little like wood and as much like stonework as possible. Flowers lined the front of the porch--all pale in color, primarily white blossoms mixed with powdery blues and greens and purples. The paneled front door was low, but the frame around it was painted a bright purple--the only bright color on the outside of the house. It reminded Oliver of the tape that sometimes lined the doorframes in old castles, meant as a warning of the need to duck. But that didn’t make any sense, did it? The door was certainly tall enough for the natives of this planet. Oliver frowned, glancing at the Doctor.

The man’s face was, predictably, alight with interest at the sight of the house. “Thank you,” he said to their guide, giving her one last smile before he stepped onto the porch and carefully stooped over, knocking smartly on the grey-painted door.

“Yeah, thanks,” Oliver agreed quietly before he joined the Doctor and shifted his attention to listening for any movement inside the house.

The woman grunted and began to shuffle off. They were both too engrossed in watching the door to notice that she was doing so backwards, watching them every step of the way and, in the end, not really moving very far off at all.

The Doctor was about to knock again when the sound of footsteps finally became audible inside, and the man withdrew his hand, smiling brightly for the benefit of the peephole in the middle of the door.

His polite smile, however, melted away with surprise as the woman inside opened the door, keeping one hand firmly on the doorframe to make it quite clear that they weren’t being invited to enter. “Who are you?” she demanded.

It was not her terribly unwelcoming question that had caught him off-guard. Rather, it was the fact that the woman who had opened the door was of average human female height, with olive skin and very normal-looking dark hair--not to mention sharp, thin features that were not in any way squat. She was dressed in a white blouse with a ruffled fringe and pure white pants over white sandals. A white ribbon was threaded through her hair, which was pulled back into a thick braid. Her face was very angular, with high cheekbones and a sharp gaze. Her lipstick was an earthy brown, and the make-up around her eyes was dark, making her skin contrast even more sharply with her white attire.

Not only that, but her voice was also distinctive. While the TARDIS’ translation circuits made her words perfectly intelligible, she spoke slightly differently from the other Filiorans--with an accent of some kind.

The Doctor recovered quickly, breaking out into a new smile. “Well, hello there. The lady Pafos, I presume?”

She eyed at him coldly. “And you?”

“I’m the Doctor, and this is Olivia. May we come in and speak to you for a few moments?”

She regarded them briefly, everything about her posture defensive. Then she stepped back from the doorframe. “Fine,” she said flatly.

“Thank you,” the Doctor said, giving her a toothy grin before he stepped inside, Oliver quick to follow.

The inside of the house was as pure and white as the outside. Rather than making it seem boring and drab, the consistent coloring instead served to emphasize where the architecture was embellished with carvings and engravings. The furniture was all white, without even traces of stains. It was plush and luxurious in its composition--a great contrast to the stark white walls, which were flat and simple outside of the artistic whims in the woodwork.

The woman led them into what seemed to be a sort of fancy sitting room, full of lavish furniture with a bookshelf against one wall, the many volumes on it the only splash of color they’d seen yet in the place.

“So tell me who you are, then,” the woman said abruptly, her voice cold. “Are you with the authorities? I’ve done nothing illegal. It was perfectly within my rights to leave if I wanted.”

Oliver glanced at the Doctor, knowing better than to speak up and interrupt what was sounding suspiciously like an unprovoked confession. The tall man, as usual, looked unruffled. Oliver was surprised, however, when the Doctor responded to her in his natural, booming, very masculine voice.

“And there’s nothing wrong with enslaving a town full of people? Is that one of your rights as well?”

The woman sneered, the look in her eyes showing that she was seething with anger at that accusation. “I am only championing the cause of the oppressed here. And you have no proof that I have anything to do with what’s going on in Fratedum.”

“Well, you did just confirm it,” the Doctor said with a grin. “And it all relates to a statue you made--odd coincidence, for something you have nothing to do with.”

The woman’s eyes flared at him, and she opened her mouth--clearly ready to snap in reply--when she apparently thought better of it and took a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before she answered. “I sculpted the statue, yes,” she said, her voice suddenly dripping with sweetness and innocence. “But what have I to do with what the leaders of this town did with the statue after I made it? How could I have any control over what they might have inserted in it?”

The Doctor stared at her levelly. “But you choose your own sculpting materials.”

“What?”

He gestured vaguely. “The materials you use to make your sculptures. You choose those. And I wouldn’t bother lying about it, as I’m sure there are plenty people in this town that I can confirm that from, especially considering the peculiarly foreign origins of the material that particular statue is made out of.”

Fury shone in the woman’s eyes briefly, but she took another deep breath before she spoke. “And what if I do?” she asked, her voice positively dripping with her put-on innocence.

The Doctor locked eyes with her. “Then I imagine you would find it very difficult to argue that you are unaware of what that material is capable of--and that you haven’t orchestrated its programming yourself.”

Oliver could almost see the woman’s anger level rising as she listened to the Doctor. She slowly appeared to be growing taller as she sat up increasingly straighter to correspond with her level of indignation. When the Doctor finished, however, she seemed to relax, hunching back down to the posture of one used to looking down to speak to others. She was quiet for a moment, the only sign of her thoughts contained in a faint smile that spread across her lips.

“I seriously doubt that.”

The Doctor frowned, looking as though that response had completely surprised him. He hid the expression almost immediately, however, standing and gesturing for Oliver to do the same. “Come along. I think we’re done here.”

“Oh no, wait, Doctor! Just a moment, please.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at Pafos, looking at her expectantly in response to the sudden friendliness in her voice.

“Wouldn’t you like to see my workshop?” she asked with a tone that dripped honey.

The Doctor’s expression said he knew this was bound to be a trap of some sort, but Oliver watched him in dismay, knowing the Doctor well enough to already be sure of how he would respond and not liking it one bit--not after what had happened in the museum.

“To what do I owe the honor?” the Doctor asked.

The woman smiled sweetly. “You’re a traveler who is interested in my work. You’re also accusing me of high crimes. Don’t I have a duty to demonstrate my innocence and good faith?”

Oliver tried to stare at the Doctor hard enough and with a desperate enough gaze to send the message of Don’t say yes silently to him. In fact, he was sure he caught Lady Pafos looking at him and grinning. At least she seemed to have caught onto his attempt at psychic suggestion.

The Doctor, in contrast, simply put his hands in his pockets. “By all means.”

Lady Pafos smiled openly at the Doctor now. “Oh,” she added, as if it were an afterthought, “your young friend remains here.”

This time, it was Oliver who stood. “What? No way!” he cried, forgetting that he was supposed to sound like a woman. It was bad enough that the Doctor had agreed to go into the lion’s den. The last thing he was going to allow was for him to do it alone.

The lady raised an eyebrow at him. “You aren’t invited. You can stay here and...enjoy my home’s décor.” There was something almost threatening about those words.

“If I’m going, Oliver is coming with me,” the Doctor cut in, his tone inviting no argument.

The woman rolled her eyes, sighing faintly. “Fine,” she agreed, spinning on her heel. “Follow me.”

There was something about the way she’d said those last words that made Oliver wonder if they’d just done exactly what she’d wanted.

Ivory Maiden 2

2009-12-23T19:02:13Z

Title: The Ivory Maiden
Part: 2/7
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4562
Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Special thanks to vampydirector for her beta help!

The Doctor sighed as he watched his silent companion, knowing there was really only one option now. He couldn’t leave Oliver like this--especially not in the middle of an as-yet-unexplained crisis. “All right, Oliver, back to the TARDIS,” he instructed.

“Okay,” Oliver replied flatly. And without another word, he turned and began walking toward the doorway.

The Doctor started, surprised by that reaction. “What? Now wait!” he cried. The young man complied again as the Doctor rushed over to him, holding his hat on his head with one hand and giving Oliver a look. “I’m supposed to lead.”

If Oliver had been in full control of his mental faculties, he would have snickered, but as it was, he didn’t react at all, which just made the Doctor frown more.

“Come on, then.”

As they headed back past the security guards and through the empty corridor, the Doctor realized, to his dismay, that the unsettling nature of the current situation was being rather annoyingly amplified by Oliver’s presence. For the first--and probably only--time, his companion was walking quietly, staring forward with the same dull, unseeing gaze as the guards they had just passed. It was perhaps the furthest from Oliver’s normal personality that he could possibly act, and the Doctor didn’t like it one bit.

Still, he knew that this had created a prime opportunity to gather more information about the phenomenon from what he considered to be a very reliable source. After all, if Oliver was in a state that somehow caused him to do anything the Doctor asked to the letter--which all the evidence was pointing to so far--then there was no reason not to ask as many questions as he pleased. As they continued walking, he decided to give it a go, hoping he wasn’t misjudging the situation. “Oliver, describe how you’re feeling,” he said.

“Empty,” Oliver replied simply, his tone still hollow.

“You feel empty? Why?” the Doctor pressed. He leaned toward him, giving him a probing look that did little to penetrate the blankness in Oliver’s eyes. “Is this about your girlfriend again?” he added, watching to see if he could get a spark of recognition.

There was none. “Which?”

The Doctor stopped in his tracks. Unfortunately, Oliver didn’t. When the Doctor had recovered his composure, he scrambled after him, his mind already working to put the pieces together concerning this revelation. What could Oliver possibly have meant by that?

“Wait! Oliver, get back here!” he ordered. “Stay with me!” He waited for Oliver to turn and walk back to him. Then he started forward again, watching for his companion to follow before asking, “What do you mean which? Don’t tell me there are two Chloe Elliots in Birmingham!”

This time, a flicker of thoughtfulness and confusion crossed Oliver’s gaze, and it took a moment before he answered. The Doctor narrowed his eyes, wondering if this meant the phenomenon was affecting his memory--suppressing it in the same way it was suppressing his will and personality, perhaps?

“Chloe…she’s one. But she’s not why I’m empty,” Oliver finally said.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at that. Nevermind his initial theory; it seemed Oliver did still have access to his memories--which was a good sign. But it didn’t do anything to explain what was happening. “Then why are you empty?” the Doctor pressed.

“I saw Galatea.”

“Gala…ohhh.” The Doctor nodded to himself, more pieces falling into place now. “You mean Pygmalion’s Galatea. The statue he fell in love with when no woman could interest him--or, in this case, the White Maiden in the museum.”

“Yeah. Galatea.”

The Doctor frowned. At least the parallel to a statue with power over men meant Oliver’s mind had some grasp of what was happening to him, but he was still much too far from his normal self for the Doctor’s comfort. “And you’re empty because…you saw her, but you aren’t with her anymore?” the man guessed.

For the first time, Oliver turned his gaze directly to the Doctor. “Yes.”

The Doctor stared straight back at him. “And you’d feel that way even if you were with Chloe right now?”

Oliver didn’t hesitate, and this time there was the faintest bit of emotion--of conviction--in his voice when he responded. “Yes.”

The Doctor exhaled loudly. “Well. Now I know it’s serious.”

Oliver, predictably, made no reply.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. “Oliver, raise your hand.” Oliver complied. “Stand on one foot.” Again, Oliver immediately did as he had been told. “Turn round,” the Doctor continued. “Careful there!” He put out a steadying hand as Oliver followed his instructions but with his foot still raised. “All right, lower your foot and…sing a song.”

He paused for a moment in his instructions, regarding his companion with some degree of consternation amidst the sound of a rather off-key rendition of a stanza of the Killers’ Mr. Brightside. However, it didn’t take him long to say, “Yes, yes, that’s quite enough of that!”

Oliver stopped, quiet and still. The Doctor sighed again. “Fine, well, come along.”

Leading his silent companion, the Doctor headed back down the stairs to the lower level of the museum, taking another look at the line waiting to see the statue before he made his way toward the entrance. With a hand on the door, however, he paused. “Have you noticed anything strange about these people, Oliver?”

“Yeah,” Oliver replied immediately, “They’re very short and they have hair colors we don’t and they spend all-”

“No, no, no, don’t answer that.” The Doctor waited for Oliver to stop, exasperated. He’d have to be careful of rhetorical questions for the moment. “Good. I meant that we haven’t seen any females of the species--and that wasn’t a question, so don’t answer it.” There was an awkward silence. “Oh, you don’t say, Doctor! I never noticed. Yes, well, I am rather more clever than even your cleverest bipeds. Comes with being me.” He headed out the front entrance as he spoke, just catching the door with his arm when he realized he’d done so alone. “Oliver, come along!”

It wasn’t difficult to cross back through town toward the outskirts and the TARDIS--not with the locals scurrying out of the way of the Doctor and with Oliver following closely behind him. As they were passing through the main square, however, an idea occurred to the man, and he stopped in his tracks. Quietly, he instructed, “Oliver, stay with me.” He kept his gaze fixed on the people in front of him. They had been just beginning to move to the sides to get out of his way, but once he and Oliver had stopped, they had all paused very briefly and were now moving back to where they had originally been standing.

“I think this calls for an experiment, don’t you? …don’t answer that.” The Doctor took a step forward, addressing the crowd. “Hello everyone, I’m the Doctor, and this is my friend Oliver. If you can, I’d like you all to do something for me. Would you all turn to your right, please?”

As one, nearly everyone in the crowd did just that--Oliver included. Three people, however, looked at the Doctor, puzzled, before they began to tug at the arms of people near them. When their efforts received no response, they glanced at the Doctor--in fear this time--attempting more forcefully to lead their loved ones away.

“Oh, don’t worry, no one’s going to be hurt,” the Doctor assured them. “But,” he mused to himself, “I wonder what it would take for all of them to realize I’m not the one who’s supposed to be controlling them.” He frowned, thoughtful for a moment, but then he raised his voice again, looking out at the blank-eyed people. “And what happens then, hm? You mob me and drag me to the statue so I fall under the influence, too? No, don’t answer that. You’ve already realized I can’t fall under the influence, haven’t you? Which is why you’ve been listening to me thus far.” He grinned, leaning forward and gazing into the eyes of one of the men. “That’s the one, isn’t it? Far more likely. Which is why you don’t seem to be taking any notice of these others around here.” He gestured through the crowd toward one boy in particular. “I’d stay away from that statue, if I were you,” he advised very seriously, shifting his gaze to look down at the child and then stepping forward until he was standing in front of him. “I’m the Doctor, by the way. What’s your name?”

The boy was even smaller and clearly younger than his fellow Filiorans. He was somehow as thin as a rail, despite his species’ squat build, with wispy blue hair and frightened purple eyes, which were only visible for an instant as he glanced at the Doctor nervously before quickly lowering his gaze. He had his hand on the arm of a man next to him, who had pale blue hair and a rather slight build of his own. The boy was moving closer to him now, tugging on his arm in a last futile attempt to convince him to move away. “What did you do to my father?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“Me?” the Doctor repeated, eyes bulging. “Why, I haven’t done anything. But whatever it is that’s happened to him, I’m going to reverse it. Now what do you think about that?”

The boy stopped moving, looking up at him again, but in surprise this time. “That would be good,” he said softly.

“Yes, it will be, won’t it?” The Doctor grinned. “So, could you tell me your name?”

“Tirik.” The boy took a tentative step in front of his father, watching the Doctor closely.

“All right, then, Tirik,” the Doctor continued, unconcerned with the youth’s skepticism. “What can you tell me about that statue everyone’s so interested in?”

“You mean the White Maiden?”

“Unless there’s some other statue causing obsession in your fellow townspeople that I don’t yet know about, then yes, I suppose I do.”

Tirik frowned nervously at those words, still clearly undecided as to what to make of the Doctor. “The Goddess gave her to us as a gift,” he replied.

“Did she now? That was very generous of her. Did the Goddess give a reason?”

The boy paused, hesitant at first, but then he beckoned him closer, and the Doctor obliged. “To make everybody worship her since nobody was,” he whispered.

The Doctor looked at him, wide-eyed. “Is that what she said? Very interesting.” He straightened, giving the boy a pat on the back. “You’ve been very helpful, Tirik, very helpful. One more question for you, if you don’t mind. I’ve been walking about your town for a few hours now, and all I’ve seen are men and boys. Do you know where all the women have gone?”

The boy frowned at the Doctor, seemingly confused by the question. “They’re in Sorodum, like always.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at that. “You mean they don’t live in this town? With the men?”

The boy shook his head vigorously, laughing awkwardly as he seemingly decided that the Doctor must be trying to be funny. “Why would the women live with the men?”

The Doctor frowned. “I can think of a few reasons, but none you need to concern yourself with yet, my boy. Thank you again. Would you like a jelly baby?”

“A what?” the boy asked, his nervousness fading.

“Here.” The Doctor reached into his pocket, producing a white bag and holding it out to him. Tirik looked between him and the bag for a moment, uncertain. “Go on,” the Doctor encouraged, reaching in and taking one out for himself, showing the boy how it was done. “See?” he asked, his mouth still full.

Tirik nodded. Hesitantly, he reached a hand into the bag and took a sweet, putting it in his mouth as the Doctor had done and chewing. He smiled once he had swallowed. “Can I have another?”

“Why, of course you can do. Here, Oliver, you have one, too.”

Whether his phrasing was intentional or not, it ensured that Oliver would reach forward and take a jelly baby from the bag, eating it almost mechanically. However, as soon as he had finished the sweet, he gasped loudly, reeling slightly. The Doctor quickly reached out a hand, grabbing his arm.

“Steady on! You know, Oliver, I have to say, you’ve never reacted quite so strongly to a jelly baby before.”

“I what?” Oliver asked blearily, glancing at the Doctor in confusion.

“Ah! Ahahah! Now that’s more like it. A question.” He gave Oliver a rather hard pat on the back. “Good to have you back, Oliver. Try not to let it happen again.”

“Let…what?”

“And do try not to get too repetitive. The questions are less interesting that way,” the Doctor advised, his tone grave.

“Yeah, but…” Oliver began to look around him, his expression startled at the sight of the crowd, all turned in one direction and staring blankly. He followed their gaze, but was only just able to ascertain that there was nothing obvious there before the Doctor grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him back to face him.

“Now that’s quite enough of that. I take it you don’t remember what happened? What’s the last thing you do remember?”

Oliver was about to work out some sort of answer when he was interrupted by a young boy tugging at the Doctor’s sleeve. “Mister, can I have one to make my father better?”

“Hm?” The Doctor blinked at him. “Oh! I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

The boy’s expression was the picture of heartbreak. “But…but why not?” he stuttered.

The Doctor pursed his lips. “You’re a different species from Oliver here, and so is your father. And as this is my first time encountering both the Filiorans and whatever it is that’s controlling you lot--and only because it’s my first time, mind you--I don’t have the information I need to be sure that giving him a jelly baby when he’s in that condition would be quite safe. However! After the opportunity to run a few tests in the TARDIS, I’m sure I could find out. But that’s not what I’m going to do.”

“What?” Oliver spoke up now, still looking rather confused but obviously having worked out enough to know that he wanted the Doctor to help the boy’s father. “That’s a rubbish reason! You’ve never held off on jelly babies before. Well, except with the Manicoll, but these people are nothing like them! So what’s the real reason? Why can’t we help?”

The Doctor looked wounded. “Oliver! When did I ever say we wouldn’t help? But...” He made a face, looking distinctly uncomfortable at being contradicted. “Well, you don’t really think I’d heal this whole world person-by-person through the use of jelly babies--my jelly babies--do you? I only carry so many, you know!” he declared, defensively. “Not to mention, if people begin to walk free of control, don’t you think that might draw a bit of attention? It’s one thing for you to be freed--you shouldn’t have been here in the first place. But to free this boy’s father or his friends? No, that wouldn’t be a good solution at all.” He grinned. “I’ll come up with one that’s much better.”

Oliver considered that, his expression dubious.

The boy let go of the Doctor’s sleeve, however, placated. “You’re going to make everybody better?” he asked, his eyes wide with awe. “Really?”

Oliver caught the look of dismay on the Doctor’s face at apparently being questioned again and, mind made up now, decided to step in. “‘Course he is! He’s the Doctor. Saving people is what he does.”

“You promise?” the boy pressed.

“Yeah. We promise. Don’t we, Doctor?”

The Doctor gave him a wide-eyed look, as though appalled at the question. “There’s no need for promises--just a bit of patience. Now, Oliver, what’s the last thing you remember? Before the jelly baby, of course.”

Oliver frowned, annoyed. “Doctor, you’re going to have to explain a bit more than that. What’s all this about a jelly baby ‘saving’ me? What from?”

“You were like everybody else,” Tirik put in.

In their current company, there was no need to explain what he meant. The other two who hadn’t been under the influence of the statue appeared to have made a hasty retreat when the Doctor had turned his attention on Tirik--probably spooked by the giant stranger that was controlling their loved ones. Not for the first time, the Doctor noted the rather intriguing--if frustrating--contrast in adaptability between the children and adults of a species.

“And how did that happen?” Oliver pressed, looking first at Tirik and then turning a pointed gaze on the Doctor. “I thought the security footage was safe.”

“Yes, well, you really should learn not to rush into things, Oliver,” the Doctor said. “Sometimes you find more than you bargained for. I thought you would have realized that by now.”

Oliver gave him a look but knew better than to bother attempting to contradict him. “Okay, so whatever it is the statue does happened to me. And a jelly baby brought me back?”

“Well, more like specific chemicals in the gelatin-”

“That really is what happened!?” Oliver interrupted, a grin beginning to slip through his worry and confusion.

“Oh, jelly babies have many beneficial qualities. There’s a reason I carry them, you know.”

“Other than you’re addicted,” Oliver mumbled, still grinning. He caught Tirik’s eye and gave him a wink. “Okay, so you wanted to know what I remember, right? I remember being in the museum and heading into the security station so we could take a look at the footage, but that’s about it. What’s been going on since then, anyway? How did we get all the way across town?”

“On foot, of course.”

“But…” Oliver frowned.

“Oliver, Oliver!” the Doctor cried, sounding dismayed. He gestured at the crowd around them. “Think about the obliging guards. Not to mention these lovely people!”

“Yeah, yeah, I see that,” Oliver protested. “You mean…all the brainwashed people do whatever’s asked of them?”

“Oh, I doubt it’s quite that easy.” There was a twinkle in the Doctor’s eyes that Oliver knew well.

“So what’s the catch?”

“I have a feeling that I am,” the Doctor confided with a toothy smile.

Oliver quirked an eyebrow at him. “You mean they only listen to you?”

“That’s the theory. You can test it, if you’d like. I do know that this young man’s father had little interest in listening to him.”

“Yeah, but he’s a Fili...oran, too.” Oliver’s eyes lit up with understanding, and he smirked. “Which is why you want me to test it. Right?”

The Doctor grinned. “Glad to hear your inquisitive mind is still intact.”

“Me too! Uh…” Oliver turned to slowly survey the people around them. “So how does this work?”

“Well, you could start by asking them a question, rather than me.”

“Yeah, uh…” Oliver cleared his throat, raising his voice slightly. “Could you all point the way to the museum?”

No one moved.

“Point the way to the museum,” the Doctor echoed.

Every person in the crowd, except for Tirik, raised an arm and pointed toward their left.

“You see,” the Doctor said with a grin. “Simple.”

Oliver shook his head, grinning faintly as well. “The brainwashed people only listen to you, got it. But how are we planning to free them all? Destroy the statue?”

The Doctor’s eyes boggled, his grin fading immediately. “Oliver,” he hissed, “You should never speak of destroying an object capable of psychic control when surrounded by its victims.”

He hardly needed to have made the comment, as the crowd of people had immediately dropped their arms and were already spreading apart, beginning to surround them. Their expressions were rather less vacant now and far more menacing.

“Oh. Sorry,” Oliver muttered sheepishly as he, the Doctor, and Tirik moved more closely together. “So what now?”

The Doctor considered that. “Now I would imagine they snatch you away from us and carry you off, probably either to show you the statue again or to murder you.”

“Comforting. But I meant, what do we do now?”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Doctor,” Oliver sighed as the attackers began to reach out toward him in a rather classic zombie-movie fashion--except for the difference in height, of course. “They’re getting a bit close here.”

“I suppose you’re right. Well, then.” The Doctor took a step forward, gaining enough proximity for the reaching hands to scrabble at his stomach. In a booming voice, he cried, “Stop!”

Every single one of the people stopped exactly where he was, lowering his hands to his sides and standing as if at attention.

“Whew.” The Doctor reached up to adjust his hat. “I was hoping that would work.”

Oliver gawked at him. “What if it hadn’t?”

“Why worry when it did?”

His companion opened his mouth to respond, but he was interrupted by Tirik coming between them, tugging at the Doctor’s sleeve. “When are we going to help my father?”

“Good question. Doctor?” But Oliver made a face at the look in the Doctor’s eyes, knowing his mind was elsewhere at the moment. “Back to the statue, I’m guessing?” Oliver suggested.

All three of them jumped as those words seemed to bring the victims of the statue’s control right back to life--and in just as vicious of a mood as they had been a moment ago.

“I didn’t say anything about doing something to it!” Oliver yelped as the crowd again began to converge on him.

“Stop!” the Doctor cried.

The people froze--for about ten seconds. Then they began closing in again.

“Okay, so you did have a backup plan, right, Doctor?” Oliver asked, glancing between the man and the people who were starting to grasp at his shirt.

The Doctor didn’t bother to reply. Instead, he reached into his pocket, fiddling with something. It wasn’t hard to work out what--everyone cried out in pain as the sonic screwdriver whirred to life at a high frequency. “Run!” the Doctor barked.

Neither Oliver nor Tirik needed to be told twice. Wincing through the pain of the sound, both attempted to take off the through the crowd. However, whatever frequency the Doctor was using appeared to be even more painful to the Filiorans than it was to Oliver and the Doctor. This would have been perfect except that it was just as bad for Tirik as for the others. The Doctor fairly scooped the staggering boy under his arm as they pushed through the crowd. “Move move move!” he ordered their attackers as he went, causing the citizens to stagger slightly out of the way even through their pain.

It didn’t take long for them to escape from the original crowd of onlookers. Once they were safely clear, the Doctor switched off the screwdriver, and all three slumped to the curb of a deserted side street.

“What,” Oliver started breathlessly, “caused that?”

For one of the first times that day, he saw an actual serious expression on the Doctor’s face. “It seems whatever is controlling them has decided to mark you as a target,” the man replied simply.

Oliver stared. “You mean they were still just after me?”

“And rather insistently so,” the Doctor agreed, as though that had been a statement rather than a question. “I think it would be best if none of us says anything else about…well, you know. To their statue.”

Oliver nodded numbly in agreement, but he couldn’t help a faint grin as some of the horror of the experience began to fade. “You know, that was really cool, Doctor. I’ve never seen you do that with the sonic screwdriver before!”

The Doctor furrowed his brow. “Haven’t you? You must not have been watching closely enough.”

Tirik, perhaps surprisingly, did not share any of Oliver’s rather childish excitement. “But what are we going to do now?” he broke in, his dismay audible in his voice.

Oliver glanced at the boy, his mood dampened by the reminder of reality. “We could…you know, do that anyway, couldn’t we?” he suggested. “We just can’t talk about it first.”

The Doctor gave him a look. “You do realize you wouldn’t get anywhere near that building without being attacked? And if you’re even considering letting yourself get caught and be dragged to the statue, I don’t think I need to remind you how you reacted to it the first time.”

Oliver’s expression said far more than words could have about what he thought of the Doctor’s statement--but the frustration in his eyes also showed that he knew it made sense. “But we have to do something about that statue!” he protested.

“No, we need more information about what’s going on here.” The Doctor stood, giving off an air of finality about the issue. Oliver raised an eyebrow at him, following suit. Tirik did the same.

“So where are going to get that?” Oliver asked.

The Doctor shifted his gaze to the boy. “Tirik, do you think you could show us the way to Sorodum?” He grinned disarmingly, his gaze eager.

Tirik, on the other hand, suddenly looked just as terrified as he had been in the face of the advancing mob. “But we’re not permitted there,” he protested, his voice quavering slightly. “We’d be killed!”

The Doctor’s grin faded. “Executed for consorting with the females of your species? Pish.”

Oliver couldn’t resist. “Maybe that’s exactly the sort of behavior they mean to execute people for.”

The Doctor gave him a look.

“Oh, right. Kid.” Oliver looked thoroughly chastised, glancing at Tirik. For his part, the boy was still looking at the two of them in utter terror. Oliver frowned, crouching down in front of him. “You saw how the Doctor got us away from those people, right?”

Tirik nodded numbly.

“He can do stuff like that to get away from anything. So if anything happens when we’re in Sorodum, you just remember that, okay?”

“But I’m not allowed,” Tirik insisted softly.

“Who says?” Oliver countered.

Tirik blinked, genuinely surprised by the question. “That’s just how it is.”

“Well, we say it’s different and you are allowed. How about that?”

The boy didn’t look convinced, so Oliver switched tactics.

“You want us to help your dad, right?”

Tirik nodded vigorously and, knowing what Oliver meant, hunched slightly as though to get away from the young man’s prompting gaze. The boy exhaled loudly. “I could show you where to go,” he finally assented with a fair degree of reluctance.

Oliver grinned encouragingly. “I knew you could do it!”

“Yes, of course, and now that that’s settled, shall we go?” the Doctor interrupted, coming up behind them and putting a hand on each of their shoulders, starting to lead them eagerly away. Several seconds later, he stopped. “As soon as you’ve pointed us in the right direction.” He looked at the boy expectantly.

Tirik took a deep breath before he nodded again and pointed. “It’s this way.”

“Then let’s be off!” the Doctor declared.

Ivory Maiden 1

2009-11-26T20:30:41Z

After working on this story for most of the past month, I think I'm finally ready to share the first part. Comments and crit would be greatly appreciated! I want to make this story the best that I can. And I hope you enjoy it!

Title: The Ivory Maiden
Part: 1/7
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3490
Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Special thanks to vampydirector for her beta help!

“So where are we this time?” Oliver asked as the TARDIS’ central column slowly wound down its movement, signifying a landing.

The Doctor was intent on his instruments at the console. “Filioris, it seems,” he said absently. “You know, I’ve never been there before.”

Oliver scoffed, crossing his arms over his T-shirt. “You? Not been somewhere? Sounds like the end of the world to me.”

“The end?” the Doctor cried, glancing up at him with wide eyes for a few seconds before he went back to his instruments. “What makes you say that? It looks perfectly viable to me.”

It took Oliver a moment to realize the man was referring to the image on the scanner. He rolled his eyes. Leave it to the Doctor. “It’s an expression,” he offered. He glanced at the display. Perfectly viable was one way to describe it--they appeared to have landed in the middle of a very crowded city street. Crowded by what sort of species, he had no idea. They were squat with brightly-colored hair.

The other man had moved on to another part of the console now and was fiddling furiously with a set of switches on one of the many panels. “Hmmm,” he mumbled to himself.

Oliver stepped up behind him, taking a look at the instruments, although he wasn’t surprised when their displays didn’t mean a thing to him. “What is it?”

“What?” The Doctor turned to him, seemingly startled by the interruption. “Oh. Well, the old girl is detecting some interesting energy readings.”

“Interesting good or interesting bad?”

The Doctor looked mildly appalled at the question. “The universe isn’t divided into good and bad, you know! But it’s hard to say--the signal is being dampened.”

Oliver sighed. “Then that’s probably interesting bad,” he said. He stepped back from the console. “In which case, we’re going to take a look.”

The Doctor was already headed toward the door control, grabbing his hat along the way. “Naturally. We can’t let a good mystery pass us by, now can we?”

“Of course not,” Oliver agreed. “Especially not a dangerous one.”

The Doctor nodded his distracted agreement as he opened the doors, adjusting his hat on his head. “Come along, Oliver.”

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it!” Oliver joked as he followed hurriedly.

They came out of the TARDIS into the middle of the crowded city street that Oliver had glimpsed on the scanner. It looked much like any city from Oliver’s time in the early 21st century, except that the buildings seemed to be constructed out of something smoother and more pliable than concrete or brick or wood. They were also smaller than typical buildings, both in terms of height--only one or two even reached three stories--and also overall shape. It took Oliver a moment to pinpoint exactly what it was about the buildings that was giving him that impression, but once he did, the effect was obvious. Everything about the buildings was shorter--the stories were more crunched together, with lower doorframes and smaller windows. The reasoning behind this was not difficult to fathom as they observed the residents themselves walking down the street.

These people were bipedal, sharing many features with a typical human, except they were just as short and squat as their buildings. They put Oliver in mind of the Lord of the Rings, as though he had just stepped into the Shire and was watching the hobbits. Well, really they were more like rock star hobbits, he decided. Their hair was wild and had a texture and look to it that put him rather in mind of wigs--an illusion that was not helped by the rainbow variety of hair colors that even the small group closest to him had--pink, blue, orange, brown, neon green... It was like something out of one of those Japanese animation TV shows. They also all shared the exact same skin color--pale to the point of being almost white. As usual, none of the residents paid the TARDIS any mind and simply continued their business of walking up and down the road, probably headed to the various shops and restaurants and the bank in the immediate vicinity--or, at least, that was Oliver’s first thought.

“Hmm,” the Doctor mumbled, frowning as he gazed around the street, prompting Oliver to take a closer look at the situation.

It didn’t take long to realize that the hobbit-residents were not, in reality, hurrying around between the shops and other buildings. In fact, as Oliver watched, not a single person made their way into or out of any structure. Not only that, but as he gazed down the street, he saw only one person turning in any direction. Almost all of the people were headed in two straight lines--one going toward and one coming away from a single unseen destination.

“Oh, wow. They’re a bit single-minded, aren’t they?” he remarked.

“Mm,” the Doctor agreed distractedly. He stepped away from Oliver, directly into the path of several of the oncoming residents, stopping them in their tracks. “Excuse me,” he said politely. “I’m the Doctor.” He tipped his hat. “And this is Oliver. We’re visitors here, and we were wondering if you could tell us about the clearly wonderful spectacle that so many of you seem to be so keen on seeing.”

“They are going to see the White Maiden,” replied the man whose path the Doctor had blocked. The others behind him were already starting to redirect their line around the Doctor, but this man didn’t move--nor did he look up. His gaze was still fixed straight ahead, and his tone was as flat as his squashed nose. He was short and pudgy--less than half the Doctor’s height--with yellow hair so bright Oliver wondered if it glowed in the dark. He pointed behind him, toward the destination of the stream of residents going in the opposite direction from his.

The Doctor’s eyes widened, as though he knew what the man meant and was surprised by the revelation. “Are they indeed?” he asked. “And why, my good man, are you headed the other way?”

“It is time for me to sleep.”

The Doctor waited briefly for some elaboration, but when it became clear that the man wasn’t planning to give him any, he added, “And when you’re done sleeping, will you go to see this White Maiden as well?”

“Yes.”

“Do you all do this?”

“Many of us do.”

The Doctor nodded, stepping aside. “Thank you.” He spun on his heel and strode up to a person who was headed toward the statue, motioning for Oliver to follow.

This man was slightly taller but more stout than the last, with a violet moustache and royal purple hair that stuck out in all directions. The Doctor repeated his introduction, walking all the while beside the man as he did not seem to have any intention of stopping to talk to his pursuers, though he showed no other sign of being bothered by the intrusion.

“I am going to see the White Maiden,” the man said, his tone deeper but just as flat as that of the previous man. The Doctor and Oliver exchanged a look.

“And where can we find the White Maiden?” the Doctor asked, still keeping pace with him.

Unlike most of the people they encountered on their travels, this tiny mustached man showed no sign of surprise at the Doctor and Oliver’s appearances or even at their complete lack of knowledge about something that his society currently appeared to revolve around. Instead, his answer was matter-of-fact. “At the museum.”

“And where would that be?” the Doctor pressed. “Other than ‘in the general direction in which we’re headed’?”

“And what is the White Maiden, anyway?” Oliver added.

“The museum is on Pafos Avenue, to the east of the town square.”

“And?” Oliver insisted, much more interested in this mysterious item than directions at the moment.

The man didn’t react, so the Doctor added his curiosity to the mix. “Yes, about this White Maiden…?”

“She is the museum’s greatest masterpiece,” the man replied, the words holding the same automatic quality as everything else he had said.

“Oh? What sort of masterpiece?” The Doctor leaned in closer to the man, though he still couldn’t seem to catch his gaze. “A painting? Photograph? Piece of architecture?”

“A sculpture--a statue.”

“Ah. Thank you, then.” The Doctor stopped, putting out a hand so Oliver would stop, too. They both watched as the man gave no reaction and simply continued walking as though he’d never been interrupted.

After a moment of silent observation, Oliver turned to the Doctor to find him already walking away. Oliver rolled his eyes, hurrying after him as he went up to a nearby building. He was surprised to realize that they had stopped very close to what could only be the town hall--and a very traditional Greco-Roman-inspired one, at that, with a frontal facade lined with tall, stone-like columns. He frowned. That was an unexpected find on an alien world. 21st-century-esque architecture was one thing, but why should historical architecture reflect Earth’s trends as well? Still, there were other things to worry about at the moment.

“So what do you make of all this talk about that sculpture? It’s a bit...overdone, don’t you think?” Oliver asked as he stepped up beside the Doctor.

“Hm? What? Oh, right,” the man replied distractedly. He was studying a bulletin attached to an announcements board outside of the building. “Well, I’m surprised to hear such an evaluation from you, Oliver. I would have thought someone with your taste in conversational topics would understand people’s desire to lose themselves in art.”

Oliver shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Marathoning 24 is one thing. Everyone in town wanting to spend their days standing in a museum staring at a sculpture? That’s something else.”

“Pygmalion would disagree.” The Doctor put a hand to his mouth thoughtfully. “But you might get Ovid’s vote. Terribly interesting man, Publius.” He spun abruptly on his heel and took off walking, away from the building and into the main square of the town. “Come along, Oliver.”

“What? Hey! Where are we going?” Oliver called, hurrying after him.

The Doctor glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow, as though he didn’t understand the question. “To see the statue, of course.”

“What?” Oliver’s eyes bugged. “But Doctor, what if it-”

“Shhhh,” the Doctor cried, whirling on him with a finger to his lips. “You’ll upset the natives.” He spun back around just as quickly and continued forward, taking long strides.

“But what if there’s a reason they’re all so obsessed about it?” Oliver hissed, keeping his voice a whisper as best he could while struggling not to fall behind.

“My dear Oliver, what ever gave you the idea that there might not be a reason?”

Oliver resisted the urge to groan. “And what’s gonna keep us safe from it?” he asked.

“Nothing at all, I would imagine. Except perhaps my incredible intellect.” The man flashed Oliver a toothy grin.

The younger man rolled his eyes heavenward, wondering just what had put the Doctor in such a good mood.

They reached the street where the museum could be found just then. Or, at least, the street Oliver assumed contained the museum considering nearly every inch of it was jam-packed with people. “Any ideas?” he asked, knowing it would be useless to even try to get the Doctor away at this point.

“When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” the Doctor said, his gaze studying the crowd.

“And that would be...?”

“Push, Oliver! How else do you get through a crowd?”

With that, the Doctor adjusted his scarf around his neck and started to make his way through the throng of people. His advice had been a bit misplaced, Oliver noticed, as the short natives seemed to think the Doctor was a giant you should get away from and quickly moved out of his path. Oliver shook his head in amusement, hurriedly following behind. He was a giant compared to these people himself, but he had a feeling that once the Doctor’s commanding air had gone past them, they might not be quite so accommodating.

It took surprisingly little time for the two of them to make it to the museum, ducking carefully as they headed under a marble facade and inside doors clearly made for much shorter patrons. When they made it into the front hall, Oliver was about to ask which way to the statue, but the line of people inside made that just as clear as the way to the building had been.

“You still think we should walk right up to this thing, Doctor?” Oliver whispered.

“What!? Who said anything about doing that?” the man boomed in a voice that was nowhere near a whisper.

Oliver smoothly switched tactics with an ease found only in someone used to dealing with the Doctor. “So how are we planning to see this statue if we’re not walking up to it?”

“Security footage, of course. Honestly, Oliver, I sometimes wonder if humans ever learn.” The Doctor strode up to a man who was taller and more muscular than most of their species, with bright orange hair and wearing a black uniform that seemed to mark him out as a guard. The Doctor tapped the man on the shoulder. “Excuse me, I’m the Doctor, and this is my friend Oliver. We were wondering where we could find the security station.”

Oliver was expecting the security officer to look at the Doctor like he had two heads in addition to being a giant. However, the man only half-turned, his attention seemingly more focused on watching the crowd flowing through the room toward the statue than on his two unusual visitors. “Up the stairs, first corridor on the right, down at the end, can’t miss it,” he mumbled stiffly, almost as though talking to himself.

“Thank you, you’ve been very helpful,” the Doctor replied. Oliver raised an eyebrow, trying to catch his eye, but the Doctor simply turned and headed to the staircase. “Come along, Oliver.”

Oliver shot one last glance at the guard before hurrying after the Doctor. The man was still staring at the crowd, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. Oliver felt a knot forming at the pit of his stomach. This was getting more unsettling by the minute.

The trip to the security station, however, was completely uneventful--and unsurprisingly so, as the hallway of paintings they walked down didn’t have a single person in it. In fact, from what Oliver could see by gazing into other corridors and rooms, there wasn’t a single person on this upper story at all, despite the fact that there were exhibits everywhere.

As they got near the security station, they found two more guards in black uniforms stationed outside the door.

“Hello there,” the Doctor began again with a toothy grin. “I was hoping to take a look at your camera footage. Do you think that I-”

“Right away, Sir,” a guard with literal fire-engine red hair said stiffly. While he wasn’t watching a crowd as the other guard had been, Oliver noticed that he, like the man downstairs and the men in the street, never shifted his gaze to look at the Doctor.

The other guard, a man with paisley hair, looked at his comrade oddly. “Are we expecting-” he started in confusion.

“Thank you, Vezid,” the Doctor said quickly, seizing on the glassy-eyed guard’s name tag to give himself a bit more authenticity. It seemed to work. The second guard relaxed somewhat, watching curiously as Vezid turned around and input a sequence on the command pad near the door.

“Straight through. Baherit will get you the footage you need.”

“That was rather helpful of him,” Oliver whispered once they’d gone through the door and the eager Vezid had closed it behind them.

“Quite.” The Doctor didn’t bother to lower his voice, as the office in front of them was deserted. “It seems security is a bit lax as well.” He strode over to the nearest desk, bending down to lower his height to its level so he could properly see the papers on it. “Hmmm,” he mumbled thoughtfully as he glanced over them briefly before moving to another desk.

Oliver, on the other hand, headed to the windows against one wall, peering through the blinds at the street below. The image was a bit dim--the windows must have been tinted for security purposes--but that didn’t obscure the view through them. He frowned. “Doctor?”

“Hm?”

“Aren’t they...I don’t know, a bit...orderly...for a desperate mob obsessed with a probably-alien-and-hypnotic statue?”

“You noticed that, did you? Good on you, Oliver. A bit late, but you’re certainly improving.”

Oliver knew better than to respond to that comment. “So what does it mean?” he asked instead.

“Probably the same thing the behavior of that very helpful chap outside meant.”

“And that is?”

“I don’t know--yet.” The Doctor left the second desk, his gaze caught by a door in the corner. “Ah, here we are!” He walked over and pushed the door open, the bluish glow of screens spilling in from the dark room beyond it.

“Camera footage?” Oliver asked, hurrying over behind him. He peeked his head around the tall man, trying to get a look at the screens inside.

The Doctor already had his gaze focused on those same screens, his eyes bulging. “Oliver! Stop right there and turn around now.”

Oliver obediently stopped, turning his back on the Doctor. The Doctor sighed in relief as he shifted his attention back to the bank of monitors, hurrying over to it. He rolled a chair containing a glassy-eyed security officer--most likely Baherit--out of the way and began to type in commands on the computer. The man didn’t seem the least bit bothered by being shoved off to the side. In fact, he didn’t react at all beyond shifting his gaze in order to keep it glued to the monitor.

“You didn’t see the monitor, did you?” the Doctor demanded as he continued his furious typing.

“I saw it.”

“Good. Good thing you--you what?” The Doctor turned toward his companion to find Oliver still obediently facing the wall. “But why aren’t you looking at the statue now?”

“You told me to turn around.”

The Doctor nodded, turning back to the computer, reassured and too busy concentrating to notice an unusual monotony in Oliver’s tone. “Good. Don’t even think about looking toward the screen.”

“All right.”

“You’re not thinking about it, are you?”

“Thinking about what?”

“Good man.” The Doctor refocused his attention, typing furiously again. The images from the various security cameras zoomed in and out, shifting their angles and panning around the statue. It was tall, but only in that it appeared to reflect average human height and proportions, lacking the squat qualities that marked out the Filiorans. It was constructed out of a white material, similar to Pygmalion’s ivory in appearance but obviously something capable of a bit more than simple ivory would have been--something that produced psychic waves that the Doctor could feel even through the monitor.

The style of the statue was, oddly enough, distinctly Greek. The woman was wearing a flowing tunic, and her features were idealized, marked by a perfect, slender nose and shapely lips, with a noble tilt to her chin and her hair intricately styled on top of her head. The Doctor studied the statue closely, leaning in toward the screen. “Hmmm, yes, that would explain it.” He moved back, considering the image for a moment, typing in commands infrequently now to make slight adjustments to the view. Then, abruptly, he stopped, turning around in consternation. “Oliver.”

“Yeah, Doctor?”

“I would have expected at least a, ‘What would explain it?’ from you. What’s happened to that inquisitive mind of yours?”

“I would rather do what you want.”

“Now that,” the Doctor observed, unable to miss the flatness in Oliver’s words, “sounded even less like you. You said you saw the screen before you turned around?”

“Yeah.”

“And you aren’t looking at it now because I told you not to. But you would look if I hadn’t said that to you?”

“Yeah! It’s a beautiful statue.” There was a hint of enthusiasm in Oliver’s words now, but that only made the Doctor narrow his eyes.

“Oliver, turn around, but look straight at me.”

The young man did as asked, turning back toward the Doctor and looking directly into his eyes.

The Doctor stood up from the terminal, stepping toward Oliver and staring back for a long moment. Finally, he sighed. “Vacant,” he mumbled, half to himself. He pursed his lips, glancing from the computer screen to his companion. “It seems,” he finally admitted, “this is a bit more serious than I thought.”

Oliver just stared at him, unresponsive.

Drabble

2009-10-12T23:09:51Z

After the Doctor discovered what happened to Oliver immediately before his Crucible arrival, I wrote a drabble outlining the scene. So why not share it?

Mikaeja greeted Oliver cheerfully and welcomed him into the flat, offering him a drink and something to eat. The flat itself was plain, marked with little decoration and a mishmash of styles in what furniture there was. It was not terribly unlike Tomas Alvarenson’s home--nor any of the other flats for new residents who had come to Gondovan with almost nothing.

Mikaeja himself was a large, burly man with a thick moustache and short beard. He was broad-shouldered and well-built, stocky but athletic--testaments to a life of constant physical activity. Despite his imposing physical presence, his smile was warm. After a few moments of pleasantries, they both sat down in the kitchen over a cup of tea. Oliver pulled out his file and began to walk Mikaeja through some of the necessary paperwork it contained, as well as instructions for what the man needed to do to help them set up some of the important parts of a relocation--mostly the details involved in the job search.

Oliver was in the midst of speaking when Mikaeja turned suddenly, frowning.

“What is it?” Oliver asked.

His host shook his head. “I thought I heard something,” he mumbled in his heavy accent. Whatever it was, he brushed it off with a wave of his hand, turning back to Oliver. “Please, continue.”

Oliver glanced around with a frown, but if the man wasn’t concerned, then there was no reason for him to be. He looked down at the form, trying to remember where he’d left off.

This time, Mikaeja let out a cry, jumping to his feet and sending his plasteel chair clattering to the floor. Oliver moved to jump up, too, but before he could manage it, rough hands grabbed him from behind. He tried to struggle against someone’s iron grip, but his attacker’s other hand quickly pressed something against his mouth.

For a moment, Oliver could swear he smelled oranges. Then his vision blurred and gave way to darkness.

[062]

2009-09-22T01:40:57Z

[is in his room, packing a suitcase and his backpack. his actions and the angle of the sphere are currently allowing for a rather good view of a huge bruise on his right arm. however, he doesn't seem bothered by it in the least. he looks up at the sphere in surprise as it moves about him, but at least it's alerted him somehow that it's on. he breaks out in a grin] Now this is like old times, isn't it, Doctor? Not that being on a randomly dangerous luxury cruiser wasn't, but we've got the whole foreign society to experience now! It's more authentic. Except maybe that everyone's happy now and there aren't any crazy political battles going on, but I suppose we already finished that part.

Speaking of, I guess this room used to belong to a couple. Not quite sure what sort of couple, except that there are tentacles involved, but still, definitely a couple. So uh...I'm gonna be moving back into your suite for the last few days, okay? If you and the TARDIS don't mind, anyway.

Also, Crucible passengers! If nobody else organizes a trip to the pub or a party for us all soon, I'm doing it. Because we deserve it, don't you think? [grins]

Oh, and! Now that... [pauses, his expression growing just a bit more serious, but still cheerful] Well, now that we're getting close to going back home, I have a favour to ask! Anybody who wants to be visited by me and the Doctor, I need to know where and when you live. I'm making a list. I can't guarantee we'll actually arrive where and when you say, but you never know. And really, it works as long as we don't arrive too early, right? Then again, if we do, you should've already remembered us from...well, maybe not...or...nevermind, I'm gonna give myself a headache at this rate. Just, where and when, let me know!

And definitely let me know when we're going to the pub. Shouldn't take me much longer to get moved out!

[061]

2009-09-09T22:31:08Z

[Oliver is back to his normal self and seemingly has been long enough to change and to go back to his own room in Kepler (after leaving a note for the Doctor--"Back to normal - Ollie"). he is wearing one of his typical T-shirts and jeans, but his leg brace is missing. currently, he's sitting on his bed, staring out a porthole in the wall, apparently unaware that the sphere is on. for once there isn't anything he wants to share, neither by way of apologies nor encouragement. he's remembered the deaths he saw just before he became seven again, and to him it feels as though they just happened. he is deep in thought, and his expression is sad and strained as he stares at the stars outside]

[despite the fact that he is neither addressing the sphere, nor is his mouth moving, his own voice suddenly sounds in the room]

"Well, you heard her, Doctor! That Puppeteer thing's murdering people all over, and nobody can catch it. It sounds like just the job for us! What are we waiting for?"

[Oliver frowns, looking up as though expecting to find the source of the voice. then he sighs and mumbles to himself, an edge of bitterness in his voice] It didn't work out then, either.

[the voice comes back as if in reply, except it's different this time--dark and rough and full of anger and hatred. it's still clearly Oliver's voice, but in many ways it doesn't sound like it] "Once I'm done with the girl, I will rend you limb from limb, but it won't just be me; it will be Oliver too, doing what he wants to do to you so very much. You've lied to him once too often. You've never had any intention of taking him home, and he hates you for it. And with his hands I'm going to pull the still-beating hearts from your chest."

[he jerks visibly this time, looking up at the ceiling with wild eyes] SHUT UP! [he chucks a pillow uselessly at...nothing, really. it lands on the floor near the bed. Oliver then grabs the mp3 player sitting next to him and shoves the headphones in his ears, turning the music up so high that the beat can faintly be heard over the sphere network. he puts his hands over the headphones, as though to make doubly sure he can't hear any more voices. thankfully, he's turned partway toward his sphere, so if anyone were to interrupt him, he would see them]

[060]

2009-09-07T03:26:18Z

[is that who you think it is broadcasting over the sphere? yes. yes, it definitely is. seven-year-old Oliver is sitting on the floor in the middle of the Doctor's kitchen, practically swimming in one of his older counterpart's sweatshirts. he's in the process of working the trousers off his legs, mostly without the use of his hands as they're currently lost in the sleeves. his trainers can be seen on the floor near him, as well as a spilled and shattered cup that seems to have been holding tea a moment ago. the boy looks up at the sphere in concern, guessing that it's on as it has just swung in closer so as to film him better from his position on the floor]

Uncle Doctor, where are you? It happened again, but I don't remember us playing Swap. And why does the room look all funny? You can see all the food! [points at the doorless cabinets] Did something happen while I was sleeping? Why did somebody spill their tea and leave it? And they left the kettle on, too! [blinks] Where's Lara?

[looks around the room as though this may answer a question or two, biting his lip. then a thought seems to occur to him, and his worry abruptly fades as he addresses the sphere again] Ohhh, wait, can everybody hear me like before? [waves at the sphere] Hi! Was I asleep a long time? I don't remember what happened. Does anybody know?

[pauses. that's a bit too much to think about, he decides, especially when there are so many friends out there to talk to] Does anybody want to play?

[059] Mutiny

2009-09-06T14:39:28Z

[Oliver is walking slowly along the orange hallway of level 9, relying on the detector to pick up anything important that he passes. the bays all look nearly identical--aside from debris that is only mildly useful as an identifying factor. still, when the detector starts going off near one of the bays, he has a feeling this is the one where they saw the supposed xeno-geologists arrive. the debris in it does look familiar, too. it must be the one!]

Orion, where are you? Would you be up for checking something on level 9?

[058] Mutiny

2009-09-05T03:18:31Z

[the Doctor has let Oliver into level 15 so he can explore, which he fully intends to do quite thoroughly, but he has one specific place he wants to try before anything else.]

[as he nears the Jupiter, he holds up the detector, walking along the front of the restaurant before venturing inside. he heads around the tables and chairs, going over to the wall near where they saw the captain activate the lockdown protocol. the detector, predictably, reacts to the location, blaring out a sound of the sort Oliver should have expected in a device designed by the Doctor]

Hey, Orion? It's Oliver. I might have something here!

[057]

2009-08-30T20:23:08Z

[Oliver's sphere comes on to show him walking through a corridor just outside of the Enviro-dome. he stops periodically, poking at the wall--hoping to somehow stumble upon one of the elusive command consoles.]

[suddenly, Oliver yelps, jerking his hand away from the wall. the air around him seems to take on a sheen, and Oliver gasps and starts to run down the hallway as fast as he can with his leg brace. he's not breathing well as he runs, and he's beginning to sweat, but that would be difficult to see as the view from the sphere seems to be fogging up like it's suddenly been hit by intense heat]

[Oliver continues to run, sweating heavily and breathing in gasps. he stumbles, catching himself with his hands as he falls to the floor. the sphere begins to clear as Oliver, red-faced and breathing hard, wiping sweaty hair from his face, sits up and mumbles to himself]

What...the hell...was that!?

[056] HERO

2009-08-18T05:06:30Z

Hey, captain! [waves] I hadn't heard anything back from you, so I guess you must be really busy doing captain stuff to keep us all safe. Since you're working so hard for us, we passengers want to show our support. Here goes...

[begins to chant] Go, Captain, go! Capture them! Go, Captain, go! Capture them!

Come on, everybody! [begins to chant again]

[ooc: If a single appeal to Ganymede's vanity won't work, maybe a group one will? If you're reading this and your character would be willing, please throw in a comment of "support" for Ganymede (repeating the chant or whatever you'd like). I won't be tagging this entry, but this whole idea is dead without collaboration. Help?]

[055] HERO

2009-08-17T14:25:57Z

[Oliver turns on his sphere while standing in the hallway, hoping that if the captain isn't watching his sphere transmission, he's at least watching the surveillance] Captain? Hey, Captain, it's Oliver. [waves] Remember me from dinner? I know you've got all sorts of expertise for situations like this, and I'm sure you've got it all well in hand, but could we get any more information about what's going on?

What I'm wondering about is it looks like we're deflecting everything they're throwing at us. I mean, sure, I want the ship to stay safe, and I know you'll definitely keep it that way! But could you tell us your ingenious plan for catching whatever despicable people would attack a civilian ship? If the shields are holding, how are you going to get those criminals on board so they can be detained and prosecuted? I know you wouldn't just let them get away! And I mean, I'm sure the story will be going all around afterwards, but I want to know about your glorious exploits first-hand for once! If that's okay?

And uh...when it's all done, could I get an autograph from our hero?

[054]

2009-08-15T15:01:51Z

Okay, so who out there thinks things on this ship have been way too depressing lately? I mean, we got invited to a party, but we got sent away before we got to party at all! So I have a brilliant idea. We're gonna have a party of own instead!

Now, you all might think I'm being a bit daft. "But Oliver!" you may ask, "How could we possibly have a party when we're all locked in our rooms?" Don't worry; I've come up with the perfect solution! We can have a Sphere Party! Yeah, you heard me. So everybody gather 'round for good conversation and live entertainment! And don't forget to bring your own freeze-dried astronaut food.

Oh, almost forgot. [grins] The live entertainment I'm referring to? You guessed it, my fellow passengers. It's us! Got a hidden talent? A passion for music? Can you sing or dance or do flips or throw your voice or chug a pint like nobody else? This is the time to show it! This party is what you make of it.

I'll start. [clears his throat, grabbing a pair of spectacles off the bed behind him that he might just have borrowed from a suit in the Doctor's suite. puts them on and crouches down, leaning forward as though examining something just out of view of the sphere. as he speaks, he tries to adjust his accent so he sounds at least a bit less like a Brummie] Would you look at that, Ollie! It's a hibidibiwhatchamacallit!

[straightens, removing the glasses and speaking naturally now] Is it really? And what's that when it's at home?

[puts the spectacles back on, crouching and turning in shock] Why, it's one of the most dangerous explosives in the known universe that you couldn't possibly have heard of before but I'll pretend you should have anyway! If this goes off, it would take the whole planet with it! [makes dramatic arm gestures for effect]

[straightens and whips the spectacles off] Then when it's glowing red, that's probably a bad sign?

[crouches again, spectacles back on, and his eyes widen in apparent shock] Run!

[runs a few circles around the room, shoving the spectacles in his pocket. turns toward his right] You know, Doctor? If this is going to blow up the entire planet, what are we running to?

[turns to his left] To find the beings responsible so I can heroically stop them and save the planet, of course!

[and to his right] Oh. Should've known. And just how are we going to do that?

[and to his left] Watch and learn! [stops short, whipping out...yes, that's a screwdriver with a blue dot drawn at the end of it. shush, it looks real enough] Everybody stop! [waits a beat] Okay, that's better. Now, I'm the Doctor. Whoever you are and whatever you're up to, I'm going to stop it!

[pauses again, then raises his hands in the air] You know, Doctor, I had a feeling that was going to happen.

[grins, then starts to wave the screwdriver, making buzzing noises] I've just now very cleverly remotely deactivated your weapon using a secret Time Lord technique that I'm too clever to explain. Now will you talk to me? I thought so. [grins cheekily]

[shakes his head, giving the invisible Doctor a bemused look] Looks like you've saved the day again. But just one thing, Doctor? If the sonic screwdriver could deactivate the explosive, why didn't you just do that in the first place?

[turns to the invisible Oliver, rubbing his nose] Well. I'll explain later.

[grins, turning again] 'Course you will.

Ta-dah! [takes a bow] Okay, who's next?

[053]

2009-08-12T05:07:11Z

[Oliver is still in his suit, sitting on the end of his bed, and not looking happy at all]

Well, that definitely wasn't what I was hoping for when I went in there. [sighs] Damn captain. So, party's over just like that, and I'm definitely locked in here now. Nothing new for me, but I have a feeling I'm not the only one who is. Is everybody okay? Nobody got hurt when...whatever it was just happened? Did the spheres do that? Anyway, if you're hurt, be sure to say something, all right? We'll figure out a way to help. And I'd love to hear more about what the hell just happened, too.

[pauses briefly, looking thoughtful, then tries for a weak smile] On the bright side, we just proved the captain still has control over the ship. Now if Orion would just show himself again...