#background ian/barbara

[headcanonsandmore]

'Stand and Deliver!' Chapter Six

Summary: A new arrival appears in Crofters Lodge in dire circumstances, and Tegan finds herself travelling to London once again. The phantom keeps appearing and Tegan finds herself slowly growing to like the mysterious masked figure. Will a death-defying chase alter things between them? Read on, dear readers, and find out…

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Hi everyone; my apologies for the delay with this chapter. I know I'm normally very regular with my release schedule but this has been a weird time for me; I bought my first house! Yeah, I'm as surprised as you are XD Hence why I've barely had any time to write over the last few weeks.

Anyway, my apologies again for the delay. Today is my birthday and I finally have some time to myself, so I've been able to get this chapter finished. Hopefully, the next chapter won't take nearly as long to write but we'll have to wait and see.

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Read on AO3.

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Monday had always been a calmer day for the inn, but there was still work to be done. Luckily, the weather had stayed dry, although it was still cold, with overcast skies and dim sunshine peeking through.

Tegan spent most of the morning sweeping the courtyard, and cleaning out Dan’s stable. The donkey looked sheepish, as if embarrassed that she needed to clean out his muck. Tegan chuckled, and scratched Dan fondly behind the ears, which elicited a happy honk.

After all that hubbub from the previous evening, the inn felt very quiet. Tegan ignored the acceleration of her heartbeat as she remembered dancing with Nyssa, although she couldn’t help but smile at the memory. It was a very good memory, after all.

Although… Nyssa had quickly left after the Lethbridge-Stewart had made his introductions. The pastors daughter had quickly curtsied to the man, before squeezing Tegan’s hand in goodbye and heading off, explaining that her father would be expecting her arrival back home soon.

Tegan let out a sigh, and leaned against the door of Dan’s stable.

She had hoped to have danced the rest of the evening with Nyssa, but she supposed that was too much to hope for. After all, Nyssa’s father did rely on her for help around the parish, not to mention the various charitable collections that Nyssa organised for the poorest in the community. Nyssa was a busy person, and Tegan was glad to have had at least one evening with Nyssa to herself.

It had been lovely, dancing with her. Feeling the happy beat of her own heartbeat, and the warm gentle brush of Nyssa’s hand against her own. Now that she thought about it, Nyssa had a surprisingly strong pair of arms, given that she had been able to effortlessly dip Tegan whilst the two of them were dancing. Tegan wouldn’t have expected it but, then again, she had been away for a long time; it could easily be that Nyssa’s physicality was due to her busy schedule, not to mention living in a small village where, when heavy things needed to be moved, the entire community came out to help.

Now that she thought about it, she wondered if she would get to see Nyssa’s bare arms in the summer months-

Tegan felt her face suddenly flush, and she cast that thought aside. She gave Dan one last scratch behind his ears, and headed back across the courtyard to the inn.

Too dangerous to think like that, anyway.

When she came back inside, she found Adric and Joy sat at the long table, pouring over the inn’s accounts. Adric had always been good with numbers, and his skills had grown significantly since Tegan had last stayed at home.

‘Where’s dad?’

‘In the cellar,’ Joy said, looking up from the long rolls of parchment. ‘Doing a stock check with the barrels.’

‘Right. Did you say earlier about me delivering something to Barbara?’

‘Basket’s in the kitchen; thanks, love.’

Tegan pressed a quick kiss to her mother’s forehead, and ruffled Adric’s hair. Ignoring the grumble that arose out of the boy, she headed into the kitchen, picked up the basket and headed out of the side door.

As she walked along the road, Tegan breathed in the fresh country air. Hmmm. Bit too fresh, that morning. The wind was blowing in the wrong direction, bringing with it the pungent odour of manure. Lovely.

Still, Tegan found it hard to complain. She had grown up on Sutton Common, after all, and the smell of manure was not new to her. She supposed she had grown used to the smells of London which -while very unpleasant at times- didn’t tend to include cows mess.

Tegan headed off of the main room, and up the small side-street, passing a couple of cottages along the way and coming to a stop in front of door, painted in a blue that was beginning to fade.

She knocked politely and took a step back, holding up the basket.

Barbara Chesterton opened the door. Her hair was looking slightly messy and her cheeks were slightly flushed. The top few buttons of her blouse had been hastily done up.

‘Hello, Barbara.’

‘Er, hello, Tegan,’ Barbara said, as she stepped forward. ‘Oh, the basket? That’s so thoughtful of your mother-’

‘Fun night with Ian, eh?’

The older woman’s face bypassed red and turned maroon.

‘Ssshhh!’ she exclaimed, waving her other hand in mortification. ‘You don’t need to draw attention to it.’

‘Draw attention to it? You spent half of the dance with your hands on his buttocks!’

Barbara giggled.

‘Yes, it was rather an enjoyable evenings dance. What about you? I saw you with Nyssa; are you teaching her to dance?’

‘Er, sort of.’

‘That’s very sweet of you, Tegan,’ Barbara said. ‘Nyssa is rather shy with public events, bless her. I think she really appreciates you doing that.’

Tegan shrugged.

*

After politely declining Barbara’s offer to stay for scones (she knew that Barbara and Ian would want to continue whatever had been interrupted), Tegan headed back down the lane, and then stared up the main street that headed past the inn and out of Crofters Lodge.

There was a coach, stood at the side of the road, just before the bend in the road.

Tegan felt a strange feeling of foreboding. Looking around, she saw that the main street through the village was deserted aside from herself, no doubt due to the early hour.

Hurrying up the road, Tegan headed around the other side of the inn (Dan the donkey giving a happy honk as she passed) and took a shortcut, making her way across the muddy ground, ducking from tree to tree as she went.

She came to a stop amongst the trees nearest the road, and peeked out towards the coach stood on the opposite side.

Her eyes widened in horror.

There were two figures next to the coach.

One was a man, dressed in a long black cloak and a tricorn hat. His build was bulky and gruff. One hand was holding onto a horse that was presumably his own. The other hand was pointing a pistol at the second figure.

The second figure was a young girl; she couldn’t have been older than thirteen. She was probably a few inches shorter than Tegan, and had short dirty-blond hair. Her bonnet was lying abandoned on the ground beside her.

She was kneeling beside someone who was lying, collapsed, on the ground. It almost looked like-

Tegan felt her breath hitch in her throat.

There were several red stains on the man’s shirt, and his skin had a horrible ghostly pale look to it. He was dead.

Tears were streaking down the girls face, as she glared up at the highwayman.

Now that Tegan looked at it, she could see the forms of several other passengers lying about in the coach. The coachman was lying on the ground nearby, with the same pale look to his skin.

They were all dead.

This had been a massacre.

‘Well, young lady,’ growled the man irritably. ‘Can’t have you around, can we? Otherwise that’s me for the gallows.’

He raised his handgun.

Tegan felt a sudden search of panic. She needed to do something! Maybe she could distract the highwayman so the girl could run for cover? Or-

There was a load bang.

Tegan flinched, but the girl did not fall. Instead, the pistol had been blown out of the man’s hand.

Tegan’s eyes darted along the road from where the sound had come.

The phantom, sat astride their horse, was barrelling up to the coach.

‘Get away from her!’ exclaimed the masked figure.

The man turned, eyes widening behind his mask.

‘You again!’

Without a second thought, he scrambled backwards, jumped onto his horse, and galloped away, heading onto the common.

Instead of following, the phantom slowed their horse to a gentle stop, and climbed swiftly to the ground. The girl stiffened as they approached.

‘I mean you no harm,’ said the phantom, kneeling down in front of the young girl. Their voice was exceedingly gentle. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘N-no,’ stammered the girl. ‘I… my father…’

The phantom looked over the girls shoulder, and their gaze seemed to rest on the body laying a short way away.

‘I’m so sorry,’ the phantom said, very quietly.

The girl’s lip began to tremble. The phantom leaned forward, and put their arms softly around her. The girl began to cry into the phantom’s shoulder, and the figure patted her gently on the back.

Tegan’s mouth hung open. There it was again; the phantoms predilection for kindness that Tegan wouldn’t have thought possible of a highwayman. Why did it intrigue her so? Was it simply the gap inbetween the figure of the masked bandit and the kindness that they seemed to extend to everyone? Or was it something… else?

No -Tegan waved the thought aside- that definitely wasn’t possible. Tegan knew that her feelings for any man would never be that.

She bit her lip thoughtfully.

The girl had, by this point, wiped her nose messily with her sleeve, and pulled away somewhat from the phantom.

‘The village of Crofters Lodge is just along the road,’ said the phantom, gesturing behind them. ‘There is an inn there; the innkeeper and his wife are good, kindly people.’

‘Can… can you take me there?’

The phantom nodded. They took the girl with one hand, using the other to lead their horse.

‘Good, kind people, you say?’

‘Yes,’ the phantom replied. ‘I know their daughter.’

‘Is she nice?’

‘She is the loveliest person I have ever met,’ replied the phantom. ‘Tegan, her name is. You’ll like her, I’m sure.’

Tegan froze for a moment. Why did the phantom think she was lovely? They’d only met twice before, and on the first occasion Tegan hadn’t exactly been full of the milk of human kindness. Where would the phantom have-

Nyssa. Of course, Nyssa had apparently been mentioning Tegan whenever she crossed paths with the phantom.

The innkeepers daughter smiled. Nyssa was too good for this world.

Tegan turned and hurried away, taking the long route around. Her boots beat softly against the dull winter ground.

She arrived back in the courtyard of the inn, and hurried in the back door.

‘Mum, there’s been a hold-up on the common!’ she exclaimed, bursting into the common room. ‘The phantom managed to stop the robber but… oh…’

The door opened, and the young girl from the coach entered, looking terrified out of her wits.

Tegan hurried forward.

‘Hello,’ she said, gently. ‘My name is Tegan.’

‘The masked man mentioned you,’ said the girl. ‘My… dad always called me Vicki.’

Her eyes glistened miserably with tears.

‘Oh, you poor dear,’ Joy said, coming up to stand next to Tegan, before bending down to Vicki’s eyeline. ‘Come along; let’s get you somewhere to sit and I’ll get you something to drink.’

‘T-thank you,’ Vicki said. Joy placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and guided the young girl over to a table nearby.

The door opened again.

‘I came as soon as I could!’

Tegan startled at the familiar voice, and turned round, her heartrate suddenly increasing again. She hurried across the room.

‘Nyssa?’

‘The phantom threw a stone at our front door,’ said the pastors daughter, face flushed from the exertion of running. ‘He said that there had been a hold-up on the common, and a poor young girl who needed somewhere to stay.’

‘O-oh,’ Tegan said. ‘Right. Yes, her name is Vicki. She’s still in shock, poor thing. I... I wouldn’t go to the coach, if I were you; it must have been pretty horrible, by all accounts.’

Nyssa nodded.

The two young women crossed the room, to where Vicki was sat. Joy had placed a glass of milk in front of her, but she wasn’t drinking from it. Tegan’s heart clenched in empathy. No doubt Vicki could barely focus on anything at the moment, given the circumstances.

‘Vicki,’ -Tegan gestured to Nyssa- ‘This is Nyssa Traken. The pastors daughter.’

Vicki stared at Nyssa for a moment, and her eyes narrowed slightly, as if in thought.

‘Hello,’ she said, slowly. ‘How do you do?’

Nyssa hurried forward and knelt down beside the girl, giving a small, kind smile.

‘I’m very well,’ Nyssa said. ‘Er… Vicki, was it?’

The girl nodded, morosely.

‘Do you have any family in London?’

Vicki shook her head.

‘There was only dad,’ she said, quietly. ‘I… I don’t have anyone now, it seems.’

Nyssa’s eyes seemed to glisten with tears. She reached out and took Vicki’s hand in her own.

‘That’s not true, Vicki,’ she said, her voice breaking slightly as she spoke. ‘I assure you that no-one will force you into an orphanage or a workhouse. You are more than welcome to stay with my father and I in our home, for as long as you want to.’

Tegan felt her heart well.

‘Thank you, Miss Nyssa,’ Vicki said, giving a watery smile despite her tears. ‘That sounds wonderful.’

‘Come along, love,’ said Joy, placing a gentle hand on Vicki’s shoulder. ‘Let’s get you some food, help you get over the shock…’

Vicki nodded, and followed Tegan’s mother away. The kitchen door closed behind them.

Nyssa wiped her eyes, and gave a sniff. Her eyes landed on Tegan, and she tried for a watery smile.

Without thinking, Tegan strode over and put her arms around the younger woman. Nyssa stiffened slightly but did not pull away, and leaned into Tegan’s shoulder after a moment. Her hands came to rest around Tegan’s back. She wasn’t crying anymore but there was a curious fragility to her. At the moment, Tegan wanted nothing more than to support Nyssa as best she could. It wasn’t even due to her own feelings for the parsons daughter; she simply knew that she would be there for Nyssa, no matter what.

Nyssa’s hands were soft and gentle against Tegan’s back, and her head had a warm weight as she rested on the shoulder on the innkeepers daughter. Tegan decided that she liked this feeling far more than she would ever feel comfortable admitting to Nyssa. The feeling of knowing that Nyssa could rely on her, whatever the circumstances, was truly wonderful. Or maybe Tegan was just hopeless. Either way, she didn’t care.

Eventually, Nyssa sniffed again, and gently pulled away.

‘Better?’

The parsons daughter nodded. 

‘Thank you, Tegan,’ she said, with a smile. ‘You are too kind.’

Nothing is too kind for you, Tegan thought. She dare not say it; she knew that Nyssa was just brush it away, assuming that Tegan was just being overly sweet.

Instead, she simply returned the smile.

‘You were… very sweet to her.’

Nyssa seemed to freeze, her eyes darting to Tegan’s face, as if trying to salvage some deeper meaning from her expression.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Suggesting she live with you,’ Tegan explained. ‘That was really lovely of you, Nyssa.’

‘O-oh, w-well…’ Nyssa stammered, waving a hand. ‘I just wanted to help. The poor girl has had a harrowing day.’

Tegan leaned forward, and took Nyssa’s hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

‘I wasn’t kidding when I said you were the loveliest person I’ve ever met,’ Tegan said, smiling softly.

Nyssa’s cheeks turned a pretty pink of pink.

‘T-Tegan,’ she stammered, blinking quickly. ‘I… oh, I’m really not as lovely as you think I am.’

‘I find that hard to believe,’ Tegan replied, very quietly. ‘You sure you aren’t hiding a halo under that bonnet?’

Nyssa let out a flustered giggle, and tried to cover her mouth with her other hand. Beautiful. Tegan felt her heart jump into her mouth; whenever she thought Nyssa couldn’t spellbind her, the pastors daughter would prove her wrong.

‘An angel?’ Nyssa chuckled, skin crinkling around her eyes. ‘Are you simply trying to flatter me, Tegan?’

‘I thought I was stating facts,’ Tegan cheeked, grinning. ‘And I will keep at it until you finally stop underestimating how wonderful you are.’

‘That’s a little rich coming from you, isn’t it?’

‘That reminds me, I think you need to stop mentioning me to the phantom,’ Tegan said, with a chuckle. ‘Apparently, they’re now under the impression that I’m lovely. You’re flattering me, Nyssa.’

Nyssa blinked quickly, cheeks flushing again.

‘W-well, it would be discourteous to lie when describing you,’ she stammered, grey-green eyes meeting Tegan’s brown. ‘And… you are lovely, Tegan. I hope you do not mind.’

Tegan smiled.

‘Of course I don’t mind,’ she said, quietly. ‘You know me, Nys; I couldn’t be upset about you saying that about me.’

‘Really?’ Nyssa said, voice barely above a whisper. ‘Why?’

There was a beat of silence. Tegan felt her throat go very dry. Her heart hammered painfully against her chest, and she was sure that her palms were sweaty.

‘Nyssa… I-’

But there was then a creak as the front door of the inn opened, and Tegan lost her nerve.

Benton stepped into the common room, followed by Nyssa’s father. The parson’s daughter startled slightly, but did not remove her hand from Tegan’s.

‘She’s in the kitchen, father,’ she said, quickly. ‘Mrs Jovanka is getting her some food.’

‘Much needed, I imagine,’ sighed the pastor. ‘Come along; let us help the poor thing.’

Nyssa followed her father and Benton across the room to the kitchen door. However, she turned to look at Tegan.

‘Sorry, we were interrupted; what were you going to say?’

‘Er… n-nothing.’

Nyssa frowned, as if she had been hoping for a different answer, but nodded. Tegan swallowed as, hand still clutched around Nyssa’s, she followed the pastors daughter across the common room.

Would she ever be able to tell Nyssa why?

*

‘Tegan!’

Stumbling down the stairs as she did up her pinafore, Tegan hurried into the kitchen. It was the next morning.

‘Mum?’ she said, coming to a halt just inside the door. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’

‘Vanessa’s been taken ill,’ Joy said, eyes worried as she looked up from the letter in her hands. ‘This came with the morning post carriage; her nurse is worried sick.’

‘Right. I’ll collect my things and hop on the mail carriage heading to London,’ Tegan said, already grabbing a loaf of bread from the table. ‘Don’t worry, mum; I’ll stay with her as long as it takes.’

Joy pressed a quick kiss to the top of Tegan’s curls, before nodding and letting her rush back upstairs.

*

‘Hold on!’

Tegan recognised the voice and turned where she was stood. Lethbridge-Stewart was striding pointedly in her direction. The innkeepers daughter frowned, before passing her bag up to the coachman, and then turned around to face the military man.

‘Hello, Miss… Jovanka, was it?’

‘Yes,’ Tegan replied. ‘Good morning, sir.’

‘And to you, miss. Are you heading to London?’

Tegan nodded. The man frowned, his moustache prickling on his upper lip.

‘There are highwayman abroad, Miss Jovanka. I would advise caution when travelling across the common to London.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Tegan replied, stiffly. She knew that she had no reason to be so cold to the man, but his presence at the dance had disturbed Nyssa. ‘But I must travel nonetheless; family emergency, you see.’

Lethbridge-Stewart nodded, in apparent understanding.

‘This phantom may still be around, hence my warning.’

‘I have met the phantom on several occasions,’ Tegan said, frowning. ‘They have caused me no harm thus far.’

‘You are very lucky indeed, in that case.’

Lethbridge-Stewart tipped his hat, and strode away.

Tegan rolled her eyes at the man’s back, and turned around, climbing into the carriage. When she had initially heard that a higher-up was arriving in Crofters Lodge due to the highwayman situation, she had hoped that the official would be similar to Benton in outlook. This had clearly been a forlorn hope, given Lethbridge-Stewart’s rather pompous manner. She understood that the man was simply carrying out his assignment, but anyone who caused Nyssa Traken discomfort was not to be trusted, in Tegan’s mind.

She really was hopeless for that woman, wasn’t she.

The coach left Crofters Lodge a few minutes later. Aside from Tegan, the only passengers were an elderly couple who had been on the coach since it had set off northwards earlier than morning. They did not speak, content to quietly sit, and Tegan was more than happy to join in.

Tegan looked out of the window. Through the morning mists, she could see a familiar-looking figure on horseback, gliding between the half-visible trees like a guardian angel.

Smiling slightly to herself, Tegan sat back down. She had a sneaking suspicion that this coach wasn’t going to get held up on the common.

*

Several hours later, Tegan climbed out of the carriage, her boots making a soft squelch against the muddy pavement. London’s sanitation hadn’t changed much since she had been away. It was always worse in the winter, when the heavy rains combined with the dirt of the streets to form a disgusting layer of sloppy mud.

She bit back her desire to wrinkle her nose, and collected her bag from the coachman. Giving a quick thanks, Tegan headed down the street.

It had clearly rained here more than it had back home, and there was a wet tinge to the air, mixed with the general odour of unwashed bodies, animal mess and human waste. Lovely.

Eventually, Tegan arrived at her aunt’s home, and knocked swiftly on the front door. It was a respectable house, in a street mainly made up of the strange social strata where the upper working class bled into the lower echelons of the middling sort. Office boys, young families of army sergeants, shop assistants, trade apprentices, and the like.

Vanessa’s front door was as well-cleaned as it always had been. A few moments later, it opened, revealing the harried-looking nurse that had sent Tegan the letter that morning.

‘Thank goodness, Miss Tegan!’

‘Hello, Mary,’ Tegan said, smiling kindly. Domestic service was a difficult job, and she bore the woman no ill for trying as best she could, despite such an isolated and difficult job. ‘How is my aunt?’

‘She has improved somewhat,’ continued Mary, letting Tegan into the house and closing the door swiftly behind her. ‘But I was most concerned.’

The house was much the same as ever, albeit with a slightly less airy feel than when Tegan had lasted lived there. Mary had kept the place clean and tidy, but there was undoubtably a sense that the place was now more a place of care than of a home in its own right.

Tegan placed her bag over to the side, removed her overcoat, and followed Mary up the stairs, the steps creaking slightly under their weight. It was warmer inside than out, and Tegan was glad to be out of the cold air.

The two young women came to a stop in front of Vanessa’s bedroom. Mary opened the door, and Tegan entered. With another smile, Mary closed it behind her.

Vanessa was sat up in bed. Her eyes lit up as Tegan hurried over.

‘Hello, my girl,’ she said, voice accented with a slight croak. ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘And to see you too, auntie,’ Tegan said, bending down to kiss her aunt on the forehead before sitting down in the chair left next to the bed. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Much better now, Tegan,’ Vanessa said, smiling. ‘I’ll be up and about in no time at all. You know me; tough as an old turkey.’

Tegan grinned.

‘Mum will be pleased,’ she replied. ‘She was worried about you, as were we all at home.’

‘My apologies,’ Vanessa chuckled. ‘I do worry that my maid may have inflamed concerns with her letter. I was simply feeling a little under the weather, and yet she seems to think that I was at deaths door.’

‘She means well. And we do not mind being informed as to how you fare.’

‘Anyway, how are things back home? Is Adric still helping out with the accounts?’

Tegan smiled, and began to reminisce.

*

‘My apologies for bringing you away from Crofters Lodge,’ Vanessa said, smiling. ‘I take it that you are enjoying your time back in the village?’

Tegan nodded, smiling.

‘Very much so. It’s great to see all the old faces again. Barbara, Ian, Ben, Polly-’

‘Nyssa Traken, perhaps?’

Tegan’s mouth fell open.

‘How did you-’

‘You’ve mentioned her about five times in the past half hour,’ Vanessa chuckled. ‘I take it that you enjoyed dancing with her.’

‘Er… yes,’ Tegan said, very slowly. ‘I did. She is… a good friend. Kind, sweet, intelligent. She will make a wonderful wife, no doubt.’

Vanessa smiled.

‘Not every woman needs to marry,’ the older woman said, gently. ‘Some of us… find comfort in other things. Other people.’

Tegan stared at her.

Was… was it that obvious? She could have sworn that her expression hadn’t changed when mentioning Nyssa. And… what on earth did the older woman mean? Other people? Did… did that mean what she thought it meant?

‘Yes, Nyssa is a wonderful friend,’ Tegan said, softly. ‘I… I do care a great deal for her.’

Vanessa smiled.

‘That does not surprise me,’ Vanessa said. ‘Our family are good judges of character. It is no great shock that a woman as good as Nyssa Traken had become such a close friend to you.’

Tegan’s fingers bunched into the material of her dress. It felt as if Nyssa occupied a space in her mind constantly these days, regardless of what else she was doing. But she supposed that was to be expected. By the sounds of it, Ben and Polly had felt the same way about each other for a long time before they had begun courting.

Could she court Nyssa?

Was that even possible?

But… Nyssa had been very happy whilst dancing with her. She had repeatedly mentioned that she found Tegan lovely, and there had been moments between them -when the two of them were alone- where Tegan could almost have hoped that maybe her feelings were not entirely unrequited.

Tegan swallowed. It was all so very complicated.  

‘Do… do you wish me to stay, auntie?’ she asked. ‘Mum isn’t expecting me back for a while.’

‘No, dear,’ Vanessa replied, kindly. ‘I’m perfectly fine; I think Mary just got a little scared on my behalf when she sent the letter. Bless her, she is so caring.’

Tegan smiled.

‘In that case, I will leave you to it,’ she said, standing up and pressing a kiss to her aunt’s forehead. ‘I will catch the coach back home.’

‘Goodbye, Tegan.’

Tegan smiled.

‘Goodbye, auntie.’

*

‘Tegan; jump!’

It was several hours later. Tegan’s coach -which, aside from her, had been empty- had been hijacked by a highwayman. The coachmen had been thrown off the side. Realising that the robber hadn’t noticed the carriage was occupied, Tegan had climbed out of the window, and started wrestling with the masked man for the reins of the horses. In the scuffle that had followed, the highwayman had been thrown from the seat, knocking himself unconscious on the ground.

Tegan, trying desperately to slow the horses down, had been left atop the rickety coach. The horses, by now terrified by all the yelling and shoving, were now incapable of stopping, no matter what Tegan did. The next fifteen miles (or thereabouts, it was difficult to judge) were the longest of Tegan’s life.

It was just when Tegan was at her wits end that a horse, carrying a very familiar-looking masked figure, had appeared, galloping alongside the carriage, with their hand outstretched towards her.

The phantom had tried to climb up on the coach but, due to the horses terror, was unable to get close enough. Thinking fast, Tegan first threw her bag to the phantom, who nimbly caught it and attached it to their saddlebags behind them, keeping their horse on-course with one hand.

Heart in her mouth, Tegan leapt from the carriage. She landed behind the phantom and swung her leg quickly up over the horse, clutching her arms around the waist of the masked figure to steady herself. The horse’s hair was wet in the night air.

The carriage, horses still braying in terror, continued down the road and was swallowed up by the inky black night around them.

The phantom slowed the horse to a gentle stop by the side of the road, next to a grassy patch. A barn was stood a few hundred feet away. Tegan and the phantom were both breathing heavily, the exertion hitting their bodies with a sudden shock as the danger had passed.

The phantom reached out to help Tegan down. As Tegan made to reach down, her wobbly hold on the horse broke, and she fell.

The masked figure made an attempt to catch her, but the momentum of Tegan’s fall caused the two of them to fall onto the grass, tumbling over each other before coming to a halt in a jumbled heap.

‘Ow…’

With a sudden shock, Tegan realised that she was now straddling the phantom’s waist. The highwayman’s cloak had ballooned out behind them, and was now acting the part of a large blanket, protecting both of them from the we and muddy grass. The buttons of their shirt beginning to gap, and their legs squirmed slightly underneath Tegan. A strand of curly brown hair escaped from under their hat, trailing down over the mask that covered their eyes.

As Tegan’s brown eyes met the grey-green orbs below her, she was suddenly aware that, up close, the phantom didn’t look like a man at all. In fact, with the way their chest was heaving in and out, and their face flushed a delicate pink colour, they almost looked like a-

Tegan’s face flushed.

‘S-sorry!’ Tegan exclaimed, feeling her heart pounding against her chest. She was suddenly aware of her own thighs pressing into the legs of the phantom, and she made to stand up. Her dress had bunched up somewhat during the events of the last half hour, and it took her a while to scramble to her feet. ‘I-I didn’t mean to-’

‘N-no problem at all,’ the phantom replied, looking away as Tegan made to arrange her petticoats into something less salacious-looking. ‘Are… are you hurt, Tegan?’

‘Just a little shaken,’ she said. She realised that, in the heat of the moment, the phantom had dropped the honorific of “Miss Jovanka”. The way they said it… why did it sound so familiar?

‘I-I best get you back to the village,’ the phantom said. ‘Are you able to ride behind me?’

Tegan nodded, trying desperately to calm her breathing. No doubt she looked a complete mess, with her dress torn and her petticoats still showing underneath. For some reason, the thought of the phantom seeing her in this way was strangely… exciting.

For a moment, Tegan’s gaze came to rest on the phantom’s shirt, which was still expanding in and out as the masked figure tried to get their breath back.

A sudden warmth sputtered into life between Tegan’s thighs, and she hurriedly averted her gaze to stare at the horse instead, feeling her cheeks flush with heat. What on earth was she playing at? This was the phantom after all. While they were a decent enough sort, they were still a highwayman.

Wait… since when had Tegan started referring to the phantom as “they” instead of “him”?

But was the phantom a man? Judging from the way Tegan’s eyes had lasciviously lingered on the phantoms chest, she wasn’t sure. She had never seen men in that sort of way, after all. There had only ever really been…

Nyssa.

Tegan felt a sudden spasm of guilt in her gut. It was wrong of her to stare at another person in this way, given the feelings she knew in her heart would always belong to the pastors daughter.

 And yet… Tegan could not ignore the giddy delight that came with being around the phantom. The feeling of their cocky-yet-gentle gaze on Tegan was… rather exciting. The sputter of warmth between her thighs continue to kindle softly, lapping slightly over her skin.

Tegan was not a stranger to those sorts of feelings, of course. Her adoration for Nyssa had been an early indicator in that regard. But she had always tried to repress those sorts of feelings when it came to the pastors daughter; she somehow felt that to think of Nyssa in that sort of way was… unfair to the woman. After all, Nyssa saw Tegan as a good friend.

Admittedly, these sorts of reservations tended to disappear from Tegan’s mind during sleep, and she had woken from various dreams breathless and covered in sweat. Those moments had always been followed by bouts of shame and remorse, the latter directed at the young woman who, in the depths of Tegan’s dreams...

Well, Tegan tried not to think too much about it. Good grief. Her unconscious mind had a habit of bringing hidden desires out into the open during those nocturnal hours. It unnerved her.

The phantom looked up. A drop of rain landed on their cheek.

There was a crash of thunder, and the heavens opened. Rain poured down, bouncing off Tegan’s overcoat and bonnet. Within seconds, she could feel the cold water permeating to her skin.

‘The barn!’

Breaking into a sprint, Tegan and the masked figure (who had grabbed the horse’s reins) charged over the wet grass. The horse didn’t seem that bothered by the rain, so Tegan reached the doors before the phantom. She pulled up the large plank keeping the doors closed, and pulled out one of the doors.

The horse strolled inside and shook itself, soaking the phantom in a second shower of rainwater. The masked figure gave a groan.

Tegan followed the phantom in through the door.

The masked figure tied their horse up against a nearby wooden wall, and the animal shook itself again before snorting.

The phantom walked back over to Tegan, and the two of them stood, shivering, staring out into the rain; it was getting worse by the minute, although mercifully there weren’t any strikes of lightning.

‘Guess that puts paid to getting back to Crofters Lodge.’

‘You never know,’ the phantom said, pulling their wet cloak off their shoulders. ‘It may just be a short heavy shower.’

Tegan stared sideways at the masked figure out of the corner of her eye. Their cloak had kept the worst of the rain off, but their shirt underneath was damp in several places. Where the rain had soaked in, the material had become half-translucent, and Tegan could make out several patches of pale skin-

The innkeeper daughter turned away quickly. Her heartrate had increased again. The heat between her legs sparked. Rabbits.

‘Er… Miss Tegan?’

‘Hm?’

‘Your overcoat looks soaked; you’ll catch a chill if you leave it on.’

Tegan reluctantly removed her outer layer. The layers underneath were mostly dry, but there was an uncomfortable dampness nonetheless.

The phantom was staring at her. Their eyes met hers, and a flush came to the face of the masked figure as they turned away sharply.

‘Er… Miss Tegan, your blouse is…’

Tegan looked down. With a start, she realised that her blouse was a lot more transparent than she had initially realised.

‘Don’t stare!’

‘I’m not!’ the phantom exclaimed, sounding very flustered. ‘Why did you think I turned away?’

‘Er… yes,’ Tegan said, lamely. ‘Sorry.’

‘No need,’ the phantom said. ‘I’ll just…’

They gestured to the open doors, and Tegan nodded.

‘Yeah; best to keep the warmth in.’

A few moments later, the phantom had pulled closed the door.

They headed across the barn (still avoiding looking at Tegan) climbed down onto the ground underneath one of the haylofts, leaning back against a heap of hay, and placed their hands behind their head, knocking their hat slightly forward to cover their arms. They crossed one leg over the other.

Tegan sat down a few feet away, and leaned back against the side of a barrel of hay.

‘Nothing to do but wait until the rain clears, I suppose.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ the phantom replied. ‘You can rest assured that I will not harm so much as a head on your head, Miss Tegan.’

‘Not much for the literal roll-in-the-hay, then?’

‘Not without a maidens consent, certainly. I am a gentleman.’

‘Gentle… man.’

The phantom went very still.

‘What?’ they said. ‘What are you implying?’

‘Nothing,’ Tegan replied. After all, it wasn’t any of her business, regardless of her own flusteredness when it came to the masked figure laying a short distance away. ‘Just thinking how you really are a gentleman, aren’t you?’

‘I am not an aristocrat, if that is what you mean,’ the phantom said. ‘Besides, I doubt you’d be interested in a roll in the hay with me.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

The phantom, to Tegan’s surprise, let out a giggle.

‘Because, knowing a certain pastors daughter, you’ve got someone already trying to find you, despite the rainstorm. Can’t imagine you’d want her to turn up whilst you were in an intimate situation. The poor girl would probably faint.’

‘Cheek!’

Before Tegan knew what she was doing, she had got to her feet, closed the distance between them, and gave the phantom a hearty shove. The masked figure, still giggling, went sprawling into the hay.

‘Bit of a short fuse, eh?’ grinned the phantom, dimples showing in their cheeks. ‘Goodness forbid I say anything untoward about “Nys”-’

‘Oh, do be quiet!’

Tegan found her heart hammering against her chest.

‘I can tell Nyssa that you propositioned me in a barn when I was vulnerable, though,’ Tegan said, grimly. ‘You’d never hear the end of it.’

‘I don’t doubt that,’ the phantom replied, with a shrug. ‘She has rather a soft spot for you, doesn’t she. Bet you’d be happy if she propositioned you for a roll in the-’

Tegan shoved the phantom again. The highwayman was ready for her this time, though, and gently placed their hand on her arm. Tegan froze where she was leaning over, her brown eyes meeting the green eyes that peeked out from under the hat. She was aware that the phantom could probably see quite a lot of skin through her half-transparent blouse, but the idea did not alarm her. In fact, it felt almost… enjoyable.

There a very pregnant pause.

‘Er….’ Tegan said, not quite sure what she was even going to say.

‘I think the rain’s stopped.’

They both looked towards the door. Sure enough, the sound of the rain had completely disappeared.

‘Back to Crofters Lodge,’ the phantom said, gently letting go of Tegan’s arm and climbing to their feet. ‘We best get moving; your parents will be worried sick.’

‘Er… yes.’

Tegan put her still-soaked overcoat back on, and followed the phantom outside.

What on earth had just happened?

*

Tegan climbed down from the phantoms horse, her boots landing with a soft thud against the stones of the inn’s courtyard. It was a good hour later, and the weather had remained mercifully dry. Both Tegan and the phantom were now dry, although Tegan felt a chill coming on and knew her mother would insist on drawing her a hot bath once she got inside.

The phantom also climbed off the horse, and came to stand next to Tegan, at a companionable distance.

‘You’re sure you’ll be safe from here?’

‘Oh, I’m not sure,’ Tegan said, with a chuckle. ‘I imagine after almost being kidnapped, a quiet courtyard with a sleeping donkey may be a step too far.’

The phantom smiled.

‘Fair point. Dan is rather a handful, isn’t he.’

Tegan raised an eyebrow.

‘How do you know he’s called Dan?’

‘Er’- the phantom’s face blanched for a second, before regaining its prior confidence-‘Miss Nyssa told me.’

‘I’m starting to think Nyssa tells you a lot,’ Tegan said. ‘I hope you have no designs on the pastors daughter?’

‘Why would- no!’ the phantom exclaimed, startled. ‘Obviously not!’

Tegan let out a laugh.

‘Oh, I’m only messing with you,’ she said, still chuckling. ‘I like to think Nyssa has better sense that to get mixed up with highwayman.’

The phantom stared at her for a second, before letting out a small laugh of their own. The highwayman then climbed off the horse, and stood in front of Tegan.

‘But… you do not?’

‘Apparently not, no,’ Tegan cheeked back, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. She took a step closer. ‘Thank you for the rescue; I must admit, I can understand why you are considered something of a folk hero around here.’

The phantom smiled, and gave a short bow.

‘No thanks needed,’ they replied, smiling as they straightened up. ‘The least I could do. I hope that we can become… friends, of a sort.’

Their grey-green eyes glistened in the half-light.

Tegan smiled.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said, smiling softly. ‘You have a way of sneaking into people’s hearts.’

Without thinking, she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the phantom’s cheek.

The phantom froze, and Tegan’s brown eyes met the grey-green. Their breath seemed to catch in both of their throats.

‘E-er, anyway, thank you!’ Tegan exclaimed, stammering as she turned away. ‘M-much appreciated; have a good night!’

As she hurried to the side door of the inn, Tegan found her face beginning to flush. Her heart was pounding against her chest, and she was certain that she was perspiring. The mind of the innkeepers daughter was aflutter as she desperately tried to understand what she had just done.

WhydidIdothatwhydidIdothat-

The door closed behind her.

The phantom stood, in the empty courtyard. There was silence aside from the gentle snores of Dan the donkey, and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. The evening air was cool. The village had turned in for the night.

The masked figure reached up to the spot on their cheek where Tegan’s lips had brushed. A slight blush began to coat their skin and, behind the mask that covered her eyes, Nyssa Traken stared up at the first floor window of the inn that housed the young woman she adored.

~~~~~~~~~~

DUN-DUN-DUN XD And the identity of our mysterious highwayman is finally revealed (well done to everyone who was able to guess correctly).

Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you enjoyed it; I always love a good cliffhanger!

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

Another one of my favorite hilarious exchanges from Doctor Who:

Doctor [to Ian]: I don't know that I was under any obligation to report my movements to you, Chesterfield.

Barbara [correcting him]: ChesterTON.

Doctor [to Ian]: Oh, Barbara's calling you.

(Some background that makes this even more hilarious: this comes after several instances of Hartnell accidentally referring to William Russell's character by the wrong name in the show, and the actors just playing it off 😂)

[zebra3girl]

Ian Chesterton appreciation post

Ian is one of my favorite companions of the Classic Who era, and probably my favorite from the First Doctor era. Often taking the "action guy" role in many stories, he was not only fiercely protective of his companions, but also sought to help others in need. He was physically tough and brave, taking on many of the series' strongest enemies (most likely having some military training in his background), but also showed a fatherly gentleness and warmth towards Susan and Vicki, a close affection with Barbara, and witty banter with the Doctor. I'm so glad that his character is able to get more growth in the Big Finish audio dramas.

[cosmic-hoboandthehighlander]

More First Doctor companions! Our lovely Barbara and Ian (requested by @cleothewhovian! —hope you love them!)

Backgrounds sized for my personal phone, the iPhone 15 pro max but could probably work for others!

[nileqt87]

Jamie McCrimmon in Tales of the TARDIS

The most special thing that's come out of Doctor Who in years. But the most important return for me will always be Frazer Hines as Jamie McCrimmon. I want him back in a full episode. His story is so rich for a return that could only involve the Doctor (and/or the TARDIS), as well as not only having clear parallels to Donna Noble's mind wipe, but also being the Classic companion who most meant it that he'd never have left the Doctor willingly and would've followed him until the end.

For the record, this Jamie was the inspiration for Jamie Fraser (note the actor's first name being Frazer) in Outlander, as The War Games (my favorite Classic serial) was what Diana Gabaldon was watching when she came up with her idea, which is arguably Doctor Who fanfiction that 'ships time-traveling highlander Jamie McCrimmon with that serial's WWI nurse, Lady Jennifer. Frazer Hines is well aware of being the inspiration and even cameo'd.

Jamie was not only the longest-serving companion in Doctor Who history (yes, even more episodes than the Brigadier, though Sarah Jane beats him with her spinoff) with his 116 episodes (1966-1969, 1983 and 1985) and this short (2023), but he's also one of the greatest examples of the Doctor's closest and most-beloved companions not necessarily being chosen for being the most "equal" (the idea that companions from humble or easily-belittled beginnings like Jamie, Jo, Leela, Rose, Donna, etc…, who all struggled with insecurity over their worth due to their backgrounds, are his intellectual inferiors and thus not as worthy or appropriate as non-human companions like Romana or River, or even human genius Zoe here, for the Doctor to love--which is an insult to the Doctor and what he fell in love with humanity for), but for being the most human, genuine, loyal and loving as well as brave. This is one thing that Russell T Davies understood so well and Steven Moffat didn't quite get.

Jamie was hardly afraid to call the Doctor out when he disagreed or thought the Doctor had callously gone too far, by the way. Just watch/listen to The Evil of the Daleks for that, which is where the Doctor manipulates Jamie's very humanity to get him to rescue Victoria from the Daleks along with him being the source of the "human factor" used to create human-Dalek hybrids. Jamie's desperate, heartbroken, unrequited reaction (sadly, reduced to just audio, which captures the sound of a kiss) to Victoria's departure likewise puts to bed the idea that sentimental emotionalism and the Doctor dealing with companion reactions at their most human began in the Russell T Davies era.

Jamie certainly was more of a skirt chaser, albeit quite innocent, than you'd assume would be depicted in Classic Who! As much as Ian and Barbara, and then Ben and Polly, were depicted as couples in the TARDIS, they never got such an explicit declaration of feelings as Jamie's in Fury from the Deep.

Jo is the Classic companion who arguably admitted to having feelings for the Doctor himself, describing Cliff Jones as a younger version of the Doctor for why she's choosing him. These shorts allude to this moment as well, though frame it in retrospect as Jo having chosen Cliff over the Doctor, despite her arguably having more of a basis for feelings towards the Doctor than Sarah Jane in School Reunion and her inability to move on (highlighted beautifully when she walked down the aisle alone after her wedding day betrayal, only to be comforted by the Doctor, not to mention her adopting all the children she never had), which made her a mirror to Rose's future. Jo is thus a mirror to Sarah Jane as the companion arguably in love with the Doctor in a not-so-platonic way who moved on and found real love vs. one who didn't move on until it was too late, and who was likewise a mirror to Rose, who is famous for being the companion most explicitly in love with the Doctor to the extent that her moving on involved ending up with the Doctor's Metacrisis (but ultimately choosing him, their daughter Mia and a human life over the Eighth and Eleventh Doctors in Empire of the Wolf).

The Second Doctor's favoritism of Jamie extended so far as to go back for him (quite rare for the Doctor) when he was forced to work for the Time Lord Celestial Intervention Agency (season 6b, which isn't so much a theory anymore) and the reaction towards Jamie was probably the most cuddly and warm the Sixth Doctor (to the extent that the turbulent relationship with Peri got a little better for that one serial because of Jamie's presence) sadly ever got on screen before Big Finish salvaged the era. Jamie always brings out of the best in the Doctor and what the Doctor loves humanity the most for.

That Frazer Hines was so genuinely close to Patrick Troughton in real life (they were quite the mischievous pair, often sneaking gags in past the censors in addition to their pranks!) comes across so beautifully in every voice impression of his old friend and through his portrayal of Jamie whose love for and wish to have never left the Doctor is unquestionable.

Obviously, there was that fear of what he had left to return to, but also his belief that he needed to be there to protect the Doctor, which he always took it upon himself to do. Jamie would no doubt get along very well with the Brigadier (whose first story was with Jamie), Leela and Ace in their willingness towards protective violence, not to mention Ian and Rory often facing having to fill that role a little more reluctantly. And most of all, one of the deepest, most-loving friendships among Doctor and companion. Yes, there is exactly one iteration of the Doctor whose closest, most-favorite companion (that tendency towards favoritism was already there) was unambiguously not any of the female ones and was an even firmer break from the Doctor's old model of replacing his granddaughter with a relationship that felt far more like friends/partners in crime with a hint of fatherliness or mad uncle. And of course, this twin mop-topped Odd Couple fit in nowhere. Jamie was as out-of-place and "alien" as the Doctor wherever the TARDIS landed.

And given where he was sent back to by the Time Lords, his future without his memories looked pretty dire. His immediate return involved being being shot at, hanged, put on a slave ship by the Redcoats or fleeing to France--which was the context of his situation when the Doctor saved his life and he walked into the TARDIS when he was a piper from the Battle of Culloden in 1746 who could neither swim or read, and who was as likely to call an airplane a "flying beastie" as calling a Cyberman "the Phantom Piper", and then was returned to that sans all memories but for his first adventure before entering the TARDIS.

Obviously, Russell T Davies has given Jamie quite a happier ending than his tragic comic fate in The World Shapers in which old Jamie has finally gotten his memories back, but his family (he married Kirsty McLaren, daughter of the laird whom he was a humble, orphaned piper for, from The Highlanders) has abandoned him over it and he rapidly ages to death in sacrifice. The Tenth Doctor also had a comic companion named Heather McCrimmon (descended from those five daughters, but still retains the surname!) who still carried her ancestor's Artron radiation energy from the TARDIS. I would love to see Jamie meet Heather, who would be awesome to see realized on screen.

[toweroftickles]

Tickle Tier List: 100 Random Characters

And I mean RANDOM. This may elicit a WTF or two. Some of these are famous, some are obscure, some are literal background characters. Whatever popped into my head over the last few days, I added it. No thought, just instinct. Take it as you will.

This isn’t necessarily a measure of how ticklish these characters are; just how they react to the idea.

*Handy dandy guide:*

Krystal, Jellylorum (Cats 2019), America Chavez (MCU), Inigo, Hero of Brightwall (Female, Fable 3), Natsu, Elise (Nodame Cantabile), Nightcrawler, Rouge the Bat

Sakura Kasugano, Palutena, Jenny Wakeman XJ-9, Wii Fit Trainer (F), Princess Anna, Princess Celestia, Isabelle, Peni Parker (Spiderverse), Otherin (Slow Life Isekai)

Barbara Gordon (The Batman 2004), Ahsoka Tano, Balan, Lisa (Ponyo), Shantae, ROLL.EXE, Alita, Harmony Faith Lane (Kiss Kiss Bang Bang), Kiri, Jaden Yuki, Wonder Woman (DCEU), Luffy, Alicia Lopez (Astral Chain), Lisa Minci, Beast Boy, Robin Hood, Neteyam

Kiki, Deku, Coraline, Victoria (Cats 2019), Ellie, Laurel Lightfoot, Ian Lightfoot, Lena Oxton/Tracer, Yip Gaming, Frogger

Ahmanet, Mowgli, Amy Rose, Midna, Ben 10, Gwen 10, Josha, Gella Twins (Star Wars prequels), Kairi, Sora, Jeanne, Rottytops, Drew Saturday, Miles "Spider" Sorocco, Lilith (Darksiders)

Alexis Rhodes, Dust (An Elysian Tail), Booster Mbube (Speed Racer), Berecca (adult, Ninjala), Jonathan Morris, Korra, Wii Fit Trainer (M), Kazuko Suda (The Night is Short, Walk on Girl), MEGAMAN.EXE, Elemental Hero Burstinatrix, Sly Cooper, Mayday Parker (comics), Princess Atta, Vignette Stonemoss (Carnival Row), Melusine (Final Fantasy XV), Zakumi (FIFA mascot)

Gwen Stacy (Spiderverse), Pit, Kate Bishop (MCU), Nefer (Mummies), Arcee, Tiffany Case (Diamonds are Forever), Knuckles, Big League Chew girl, Nightsister Merrin, Munkustrap (Cats 2019), Suki, Fish Lady, Momohime (Muramasa: The Demon Blade), Dr. Madeline Bergman (Metroid: Other M), She-Hulk

Neith (Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown), Risky Boots, Kisuke (Muramasa), Phoebe Spengler, Toph, Veran (Zelda), Sabe (Padme’s double), Zuko, Buttercup (older, FusionFall)

[hellsw0rth]

Doctor Who: "Can't I rest?" - Susan's Departure in Dalek Invasion RESCORED

Here's another in my series of companion departure rescores.

This one takes the "Can't I rest?" score of Murray Gold's from The Doctor Falls (That gorgeous track that plays during the "no stars" speech).

This is a combination of Mellotron-esque sounds, sine wave generators, and a slightly out of tune, almost rusty, piano sound. I found this track suits the very first departure of a companion in Classic Who, as it's probably the most emotional and devastating for the Doctor, saying goodbye to his own Granddaughter.

I cut the background sounds (particularly the music), from about the 15 second mark, as the original had background music that I wanted to filter out. The end result is that some of the sound effects are also filtered out. I restored the TARDIS hum by overlaying the audio with the 1963 TARDIS hum sound by @doostinkay. Also, the volume ramps up slightly at about the 27 second mark, to accomodate the music and dialogue. I should have turned the volume up on the first part of the track, so I apologise for that. It’s only a slight increase and didn’t justify rendering the video again and uploading it - as this takes about an hour or more on my limited internet connection, which is temporarily on 4G instead of fibre after the fire next door.

If you have any thoughts about what kind of track would suit the departure of Ian and Barbara (LONDON 1965!), I'd be keen to hear them. I'm unsure what track would suit that departure just yet, or indeed any other departure I haven't done yet. I want to tackle Tegan's departure in Resurrection one day as that's another very poignant moment.

MIDI by ReeceGoodall.

[idkaguyorsomething]

A Shitty Recap of An Unearthly Child

For convoluted legal reasons, the very first episode of Doctor Who, An Unearthly Child, is unavailable for the public to screen (they cover the details here: https://www.ign.com/articles/why-the-first-four-doctor-who-episodes-ever-made-wont-be-on-bbc-iplayer ). So I’ll be recapping it with some screenshots here!

[Image ID: The words “An Unearthly Child” superimposed over an image of a 1960s police box]

We open with a scene of a police officer walking through the mist, opening the gates to the Foreman Junkyard and passing by a Perfectly Average Police Box.

Cut to Coal Hill High School, where the bell has rung to signal the end of the day and we see our leads, BARBARA the history teacher and IAN the chemistry teacher.

[Image ID: a man and a woman talking in a high school chemistry classroom. There is a chalkboard in the background]

BARBARA: We need to talk about Susan.

IAN: Susan?

BARBARA: You know, the fucking weirdo.

IAN: I do know, though when you put it like that-

BARBARA: Look, her grades are really high but her homework is shit, and when I went to go see where her home address is I ended up in a random junkyard.

IAN: Well, that could’ve been a typo in the school system.

BARBARA: Maybe, but when I went to go ask her about talking to her grandfather, she said that it would be absolutely impossible. For her only living relative, don’t you think that sounds a little-

IAN: Don’t!

BARBARA: Sus?

IAN: *sighs* Well, there’s probably some perfectly reasonable explanation for it.

BARBARA: I promised to go lend her a book, want to help me get to the bottom of it?

IAN: Sure.

Cut to SUSAN in another classroom, stimming!

[Image ID: Susan standing in the foreground, holding a radio with one hand and drumming her fingers on her wrist with the other. Barbara and Ian are in the background]

BARBARA: I have that book about the French Revolution you wanted, Susan.

SUSAN: Oh, thanks! I’ll return it tomorrow.

BARBARA: You can return it when you’ve finished it.

SUSAN: I will have finished it by tomorrow :3

IAN: Nice Beatles tunes you’re listening to there.

SUSAN: Wow, I didn’t think you were young enough to know about the Beatles.

IAN: Listen, student of mine, I was just about to give Barbara a ride home, and I’ve got extra room in my car if you want a lift.

SUSAN: Umm, you know what, I think I’d rather walk home in the dark. That has spookier vibes. Yeah.

BARBARA and IAN exit the room. We hold on SUSAN, who starts flipping through her book.

[Image ID: Susan flipping through a book] SUSAN: The fuck is this bullshit?

Cut back to BARBARA and IAN IAN: Well, that settles it. Something is definitely off about that situation. We should stake out her home address and see what’s up with that.

BARBARA: Now you’re talking!

[Image ID: BARBARA and IAN standing in a classroom, looking at each other lovingly]

Cut to BARBARA and IAN in IAN’S CAR, parked outside the Foreman Junkyard eating Taco Bell.

[Image ID: the blurriest photo ever of Ian and Barbara sitting in the front of Ian’s car]

BARBARA: Did you know Susan doesn’t know how English currency works?

Flashback to the classroom, where all of Susan’s classmates are laughing at her.

[Image ID: Susan standing in the classroom, looking very upset]

SUSAN: Shit, you mean you haven’t converted to the decimal system yet? Now I’ll have to learn what sixpence and a shilling is!

[Image ID: Barbara and Ian sitting in Ian’s car again, with Ian looking slightly annoyed] IAN: You know people from other countries exist, right?

BARBARA: Don’t chicken out on me, this whole operation was your idea.

IAN: I think you’re just really curious about this whole situation and that there’s a simple explanation for it all.

BARBARA: Her homework lately’s been shit! It’s the right thing to do!

IAN: Barbara, we’re staking out a junkyard in my car eating Taco Bell. There’s been shittier homework. Bad social skills, good schoolwork, and reading books in improbably short periods of time, you know what that sounds like to me? Autism.

BARBARA: It’s the 1960s, you’re not supposed to know that exists yet.

Then they notice Susan stepping into the junkyard and get out to follow her.

[Image ID: BARBARA and IAN standing in front of a police box, placing their hands on it]

IAN: A police box? In a junkyard? Who’s going to have an emergency in here?

BARBARA: Forget that, where’d Susan go?

Just then, the DOCTOR steps into the screen!

[Image ID: the First Doctor standing in a junkyard]

DOCTOR: Rassilon’s toenails, the only thing this planet has is weed and racism!

IAN: Hey you, have you seen a young woman wandering around here?

DOCTOR: No, I can’t say I have. And who are you again?

BARBARA: We’re Susan’s high school teachers. We’re here to check on her because we suspect that she might be hiding her grandfather’s corpse around here while the rats eat her homework.

DOCTOR: Uh huh… perhaps you have the wrong junkyard.

Suddenly they hear Susan’s voice coming from inside the police box!

SUSAN: Grandfather, you left the bong on the stack of scrap metal again!

BARBARA: Susan!

DOCTOR: Shit.

IAN: Are you her grandfather? Is she being locked inside that box? What the hell? Susan, try to dial the police from inside there!

[Image ID: the Doctor looking at Ian smugly in the foreground while Barbara looks on in the background] DOCTOR: I think the two of you are just hearing things. You know how it is with junkyards and their junkyard echolocation. Common knowledge. This is just an ordinary, empty box.

IAN: If it’s just an ordinary box, then you wouldn’t mind stepping aside so we can look inside, would you?

DOCTOR: Oh, fuck off already!

IAN: Not in a million years. Susan, we’re coming for you!

The two of them tussle while BARBARA runs around them and opens the door to the police box.

[Image ID: some blurry shit that looks like an old man throwing hands with a guy in his 30s if you squint]

Barbara steps into the police box, and all three of them end up on the inside!

[Image ID: Barbara, Ian, the Doctor, and Susan all standing around the interior of the police box]

SUSAN: Grandfather, did you grab the bo- oh.

BARBARA: O_O

IAN: How is it bigger on the inside? That defies the laws of physics?

[Image ID: the Doctor holding up one hand as he lectures Susan. Ian watches them in the foreground] DOCTOR: You’d better get used to it, because you’re my prisoners now. Susan, I told you something like this would happen if you tried to attend high school. Now we’ll have to get a litter box or something for them. I think Koschei left some collars and a leash somewhere around here last time he visited…

IAN: You can’t keep us prisoners in here, that’s inhumane! Besides, someone else is going to stumble onto this box eventually.

DOCTOR: Well then, it’s a good thing that neither I nor Susan are human, then? And I’ll just have to pilot the box elsewhere.

IAN: Pilot a box? But physics-

SUSAN: No, it’s true. Grandfather and I are both Time Lords from the planet Gallifrey, although those names won’t be established for another couple of seasons. The box is actually a time traveling ship called the TARDIS, which is an acronym that I came up with that’ll give a headache to anyone trying to understand the lore. We’re exiles, actually.

[Image ID: Barbara looking at Susan sweetly but sternly]

BARBARA: Susan, sweetheart, have you ever heard of brainwashing?

SUSAN: You’re inside the ship! How do you want proof more definitive than that?

IAN: That’s it, I’m out of here.

Both Barbara and Ian attempt to leave the ship, but find themselves being held back.

[Image ID: Barbara and Ian try to open the doors of the TARDIS but are unable to. Their faces are in distress]

BARBARA: Damn, that old bastard must’ve locked the doors somehow.

DOCTOR: Did you not hear the part where I said you’re my prisoners now?

IAN: I saw him pushing one of those buttons on the console!

DOCTOR: You’ll never find out which button that was! It takes decades to learn the controls to the TARDIS. Even I haven’t learned them all yet!

SUSAN: You threw away the instruction manual, grandfather.

Ian rushes at the control panel and presses a button, but the Doctor presses another button and he gets fucking tasered.

[Image ID: Susan watches as Ian gets electrocuted]

DOCTOR: Bad human! Down!

SUSAN: Grandfather, no!

DOCTOR: Let’s get out of here, we’ve stayed in one place too long already. They wouldn’t let me join the Coal Hill PTA, anyways.

SUSAN: I won’t let you!

The Doctor starts operating the controls to the TARDIS, but Susan jumps at him from behind and knocks him off balance.

[Image ID: a couple of smudges that look like Susan and the Doctor tussling behind the TARDIS console]

SUSAN: They have the Beatles and free love and people my own age here!

DOCTOR: My child, you’re several decades older than every other human at that high school.

SUSAN: I don’t care, you can’t tell me what to do anymore!

They knock over several levers and press multiple buttons in the process, and a few seconds later, the wheezing noise of the TARDIS taking off is heard. Everyone inexplicably passes out, and we fade to black. Then, the TARDIS reappears in an ancient landscape, where we see a strange face looking upon it…

TO BE CONTINUED

[thethirdromana]

Rewatching the Daleks

It's been a year since I did one of these posts. With 99% of Classic Who now on iPlayer, I had a yearning to watch the first episode of the Daleks. Literally just the first episode, calling it a day here:

My husband decided to join me. He's watched maybe 20 episodes of Doctor Who, which is basically the background radiation level of life in the UK.

But like an 8-year-old in December 1963, he was gripped. So we ended up watching the lot.

My thoughts:

The credit for the Daleks really should go to Raymond Cusick as much or more as Terry Nation. It's the design that matters, not the concept.

The Doctor and friends don't actually go back and forth between the forest and the city that often, but it certainly feels like it.

It's a pity that the series has effectively retconned the way that Ian and Barbara took an old misanthrope and gradually turned him into a better person, because it's delightful.

Ian and Barbara hold hands a lot for a storyline in which Barbara does a lot of flirting with someone else.

I enjoyed the process whereby Ian gradually strips off his tie and cardigan and Barbara ends up in a pair of those funky cut-out Thal men's trousers.

It's a Terry Nation story and it's got a countdown, *drink*

If you're braced for "you should have let a MAN do it!" then the rest of the script isn't that sexist.

Boy is it anti-pacifist though, I'd forgotten that. WW2 had happened 18 years ago at this point.

My dad watched this live aged 12. I should ask him how it all felt.

[geronimomo-spd]

i gotta say that the Aztecs is just so funny

the entire episode the running gag is when two people are trying to be all sneaky and there is always a person in the background looking stright at them!! making it very clear that they can listen in pretty freaking easaly!! (which is already funny enough)

to the point where the doctor notices this and tells the other person to bugger of! so we know his conversation was truly not listened to!

(actually this entire episode is filled with hilerios zooms and good jokes i highley recomand! allso this is an amazing Barbara episode as well, she just gets the emotinal moments)

so when Ian is presomed dead and the Aztec captain has to tell this discreetly to Susan??? and this happen??

I LOVE THIS MOMENT SO MUCH ITS JUST SO FUNNY TO ME, 100/10

(or as my lovely friend said, @the-book-life-chose-me Ian's "quit telling everyone im dead!!" moment lol)

[ulkaralakbarova]

An orphaned boy raised by underground creatures called Boxtrolls comes up from the sewers and out of his box to save his family and the town from the evil exterminator, Archibald Snatcher. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Archibald Snatcher (voice): Ben Kingsley Eggs (voice): Isaac Hempstead-Wright Winnie Portley-Rind (voice): Elle Fanning Fish / Wheels / Bucket (voice): Dee Bradley Baker Lady Cynthia Portley-Rind (voice): Toni Collette Lord Portley-Rind (voice): Jared Harris Mr. Trout (voice): Nick Frost Mr. Pickles (voice): Richard Ayoade Mr. Gristle (voice): Tracy Morgan Herbert Trubshaw (voice): Simon Pegg Oil Can / Knickers (voice): Nika Futterman Fragile / Sweets (voice): Pat Fraley Clocks / Specs (voice): Fred Tatasciore Sir Langsdale (voice): Maurice LaMarche Sir Broderick / Male Workman 1 / Male Workman 2 (voice): James Urbaniak Boulanger / Male Aristocrat (voice): Brian George Female Aristocrat (voice): Lori Tritel Shoe / Sparky (voice): Steve Blum Female Townsfolk 1 / Female Townsfolk 2 (voice): Laraine Newman Background Boy (voice): Reckless Jack Baby Eggs (voice): Max Mitchell Film Crew: Screenplay: Irena Brignull Director: Graham Annable Adaptation: Anthony Stacchi Novel: Alan Snow Music: Dario Marianelli Animation: Travis Knight Screenplay: Adam Pava Animation: Stephen Bodin Animation: Malcolm Lamont Animation: Matias Liebrecht Animation: Brian Leif Hansen Animation: Payton Curtis Animation: Joon Soo Song Animation: Adam Lawthers Animation: Shane Prigmore Animation: Chris Tootell Animation: Kyle Williams Animation: Mike Hollenbeck Animation: Danail Kraev Animation: Kristien Vanden Bussche Animation: Adam Fisher Animation: Anthony Straus Animation: Sean Burns Animation: Mael Gourmelen Animation: David Vandervoort Animation: Dan MacKenzie Animation Supervisor: Brad Schiff Animation: Kevin Parry Adaptation: Phil Dale Producer: David Bleiman Ichioka Animation: Jon David Buffam Animation: Rachelle Lambden Animation: Gabe Sprenger Animation: Philippe Tardif Animation: Ian Whitlock Animation: Daniel Alderson Animation: Charles Greenfield Animation: Jason Stalman Casting: Mary Hidalgo Line Producer: Matthew Fried Sculptor: Toby Froud Visual Effects Coordinator: Jeremy Fenske Choreographer: Nicole Cuevas Visual Effects Coordinator: Claudia Amatulli Sculptor: Benjamin William Adams Set Designer: Emily Greene Additional Editing: Ralph Foster Visual Effects Editor: Todd Gilchrist Set Designer: Carl B. Hamilton Sculptor: Scott Foster Production Design: Paul Lasaine Production Coordinator: Jocelyn Pascall Editor: Edie Ichioka Art Direction: Curt Enderle Editorial Coordinator: Dave Davenport Art Department Coordinator: Zach Sheehan CG Supervisor: Rick Sevy Music Supervisor: Maggie Rodford Music Editor: James Bellany Songs: Eric Idle Visual Effects Supervisor: Steve Emerson Costume Design: Deborah Cook Production Manager: Dan Pascall Additional Writing: Vera Brosgol Post Production Supervisor: David Dresher Editorial Manager: Trevor Cable Visual Effects Supervisor: Brian Van’t Hul Additional Editing: Christopher Murrie Director of Photography: John Ashlee Prat Set Designer: Polly Allen Robbins Visual Effects Producer: Annie Pomeranz Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Ren Klyce ADR Voice Casting: Barbara Harris Gaffer: James WilderHancock Modeling: Paul Mack Publicist: Maggie Begley Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Tom Myers Production Design: Michel Breton Prop Designer: Alan Cook Animation: Paul Andrew Bailey Assistant Art Director: Phil Brotherton Executive In Charge Of Post Production: Ben Urquhart First Assistant Director: Samuel Wilson Layout: Daniel R. Casey Layout: Simon Dunsdon Orchestrator: Geoff Alexander Set Dresser: Duncan Gillis Third Assistant Director: David J. Epstein Animation: Anthony Elworthy Animation: Dan Ramsay Animation: Jan-Erik Maas CG Animator: Carolyn Vale Digital Compositors: Daniel Leatherdale Digital Compositors: James McPherson Foley Editor: Thom Brennan Production Illustrator: Ean McNamara Sound Effects Editor: David C. Hughes Finance: Erin Baldwin Finance: Jason Bryant CG Animator: Jeff Croke Con...

[headcanonsandmore]

'Stand and Deliver!' Chapter Four

Summary: Tegan normally finds the sunday service dull, but a certain pastors daughter may just liven things up for her…

~~~~~~~

Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~

For Tegan, the rest of Saturday passed in a haze of renewed acquaintances and friendships. She was invited over to Polly’s house, as well as being received at Ian and Barbara’s cottage for some home-made scones.

It was a good way to spend the day, Tegan had to admit. And, well, it also took her mind off of her current confusion regarding a certain pastor’s daughter.

When Tegan arrived back at her parents inn for their evening meal, Adric spent the entire time shooting knowing looks at his sister, who cooly ignored him. Adric knew a little too much for his own good and, while Tegan did appreciate that he didn’t seem to have any issues with it, she preferred not to comment on it. The last thing she needed was Adric accidentally blabbing to their parents about the matter. That would be a recipe for disaster, to say the least.

Tegan did eventually manage to fall asleep that night, although her sleep was fitful. Nonetheless, she found herself mostly rested by the time the dawn arrived. After a quick breakfast, the family changed into their Sunday best, and headed through Crofters Lodge towards the little chapel.

It wasn’t anything to write home about, of course. Crofter’s Lodge was not a large parish area, nor did it have a large congregation. The simple country chapel was adorned with little other than the bare essentials of pews, prayer books and a pulpit. Instead of an organ, there was a small piano, now rather care-worn with years of use and lack of funds for anything other than essential maintenance.

However, it had a homely feel, despite its modest trappings. But maybe that was just the familiarity of it, now renewed for Tegan after years spent in London.

Given that Tegan’s parents were the proprietors of the local inn, they were afforded the privilege of sitting in the row of pews second-from-the-front. Or, at least, Joy insisted that it was a privilege to her doubtful children. Tegan certainly didn’t find it much of a privilege; she had spent most of her childhood wishing she could be sat towards the back where no-one was watching her.

However, as she sat down on the pew, all thoughts of this nature disappeared from her mind.

Nyssa, sat in the pew just in front, turned in her seat to smile at her, cheeks dimpling as she did so. Her grey-green eyes sparkled despite the dim winter sunshine slipping through the windows of the chapel.

Blinking quickly and desperately trying to ignore her frantic heartrate, Tegan returned the smile.

‘Hello,’ she whispered, as the congregation all sat down around them. ‘You okay?’

Nyssa nodded.

‘Yes; yourself?’

Tegan nodded, smiling wider.

There was the unmistakable sound of Adric snorting next to her. Tegan elbowed him in the ribs. Nyssa gave a quick giggle and turned round to face the front again.

A few moment later, the congregation fell silent and Pastor Tremas strode up to the pulpit, smiling down at the assembled villagers.

‘A happy Sunday to you all,’ he said, kindly. ‘It is good to see you all here again. Especially, as my daughter reliably informs me, that Miss Jovanka has now returned from London.’

Tegan felt her cheeks flush as the congregation broke into polite applause. Nyssa turned in her seat again to flash a soft smile at her, and Tegan’s heart beat faster once again.

She held back the sigh that threatened to escape her lips as she smiled back at the pastor’s daughter. The rest of the congregation might as well have dissolved into the background. Tegan knew it was selfish, but she couldn’t help it; whenever Nyssa smiled at her, it was like the rest of the universe became less important.

The applause subsided after a few moments and, as her father began his sermon, Nyssa turned back around in her seat to face the front.

The sermon was fine, by all accounts, but Tegan had never been one to get very concerned with religious matters. She stood with everyone else when it was time to sing the hymns, and chorused “amen” when directed. Her brain was still buzzing with the giddiness that it had experienced when Nyssa had smiled at her, and it was hard to focus on anything else for the time being.

However, eventually the pastor finished his sermon and, now that religious matters had ceased, Tegan began to take notice again.

‘Now, as you all know,’ Pastor Tremas continued. ‘The chapel collection for poverty aid has been very successful this past month. You have all been incredibly generous to donate… how much was it, Nyssa?’

Startled, Nyssa stood up and pulled from the pocket of her dress a long piece of parchment. She turned to the congregation, looking a little flustered.

‘Er… I am p-pleased to report,’ she stammered.  ‘That the collection this week has come to… ten pounds, five shillings and tuppence.’

There was a large amount of clapping, and Tegan joined in enthusiastically. She was happy to have an innocent reason to stare at Nyssa, and the pastors daughter seemed to blush under the praise from the assembled villagers.

‘Well done,’ said the Pastor, smiling proudly at his daughter. ‘Nyssa, you are a credit to us all.’

Face burning with embarrassment, Nyssa gave a quick courtesy and sat back down.

Pastor Tremas ended the service, and so the assembled villagers began getting to their feet (the older members grumbling as they did so) before heading out of the front doors of the chapel.

In the crush of bodies, Tegan lost sight of Nyssa, and was only able to get her bearings when she had followed her parents and Adric outside into the small churchyard. It was a rather pretty place, although the trees were still bereft of leaves given the season. At the very least, the rain had held off again, so that the air was simply cold as opposed to freezing and drizzling.

‘Nyssa seemed rather embarrassed,’ Joy said, as she linked her arm through William’s. ‘She’s normally very calm when reading out the donation totals.’

William nodded.

‘Yes,’ he replied, stroking his chin absentmindedly with his other hand. ‘I wonder why.’

‘I know why,’ Adric said, with a cheerful laugh. ‘It’s because of-ow!’

‘Tegan!’ Joy exclaimed. ‘Don’t elbow your brother!’

Tegan rolled her eyes, before shooting a glare at Adric. The boy had the decency to look apologetic.

‘Speaking of Nyssa, I best check on her,’ Tegan said. ‘I’ll see you all later.’

Joy looked confused, but William gently patted her on the arm and escorted her away. Adric gave a grin to Tegan before following them.

At which point, Benton appeared.

‘Hello,’ Tegan said, quickly. ‘You wouldn’t happen to have seen-’

‘I believe Miss Nyssa is sat on the bench in the graveyard,’ Benton interrupted, with a knowing -yet kind- smile. ‘And all alone, by the looks of it.’

‘Er, r-right. Thank you.’

With a fond chuckle, Benton doffed his hat and headed away.

Tegan followed the other path around the side of the chapel. She was glad that her boots were of hardened sturdy leather, as the mix of winter rains and cold weather had reduced the path to a somewhat muddy and watery surface.

Sure enough, Nyssa was sat on the bench in the graveyard, looking quietly out over the village. The bench was just underneath a large oak tree, drawing the eye towards the figure sat below, and to whom Tegan felt herself irresistibly  drawn. Tegan hadn’t really had the chance to notice earlier, but the pastor’s daughter was wearing a lovely dress in very dark -almost midnight- blue, with her bonnet back with white frills. Even for an austere Sunday best, it was rather fetching on her.

‘Room for a little one?’

‘Oh, h-hello, Tegan’ Nyssa said, smiling quickly as she noticed Tegan’s approach. ‘Did you enjoy the service?’

‘I suppose,’ Tegan said, sitting down beside her. ‘I was more impressed with your fundraising, to be honest; I wouldn’t think such a small village would have so much spare cash to give.’

‘I was surprised too,’ Nyssa replied, with a chuckle. ‘But it is wonderful to see people being so generous. And it will definitely go a good way to helping the villagers currently out of work or struggling to make ends meet.’

Tegan smiled.

‘You really believe that, don’t you,’ she said, softly. ‘Your father wasn’t kidding about you being a credit to us all.’

Nyssa blinked quickly, and her cheeks seemed to flush.

‘I-I really don’t think the praise is necessary,’ she stammered. ‘But… thank you, Tegan. That… that means a great deal to me.’

‘Not like you to stumble over your words,’ Tegan giggled. ‘It’s not because of little-old-me, is it?’

‘Stop it!’ Nyssa said, softly slapping Tegan’s arm. ‘Don’t make fun!’

The two young woman lapsed into giggling, and Tegan relished the feeling of uncomplicated ease with which they sat together. There was something magical about being sat with Nyssa in this way, as if the day was just for the two of them. With the graveyard quiet around them, aside from the occasional call of a robin amongst the hedgerows.

It was little moments like this that Tegan held on to, and that she revisited in her quieter moments to put her mind as ease.

‘Thank you,’ Tegan said, softly, ‘for saving my life, by the way.’

‘W-what?’

‘Yesterday morning,’ Tegan said, confused as to Nyssa’s startled expression. ‘With that wardrobe, remember?’

‘O-oh, yes!’ Nyssa replied, quickly. ‘Well, no need to thank you; like I said, you would have done the same for me.’

‘Probably not as swiftly as you did,’ Tegan said. ‘I’ve never seen anyone move so quickly.’

‘Er… just instinct, I suppose. I have read about husbands pushing their wives out of harm’s way.’

‘We’re not married, Nys.’

Nyssa’s face burned red.

‘T-that’s very true, yes,’ she said, quickly. ‘Silly me.’

‘It’s sweet,’ Tegan replied. ‘I… I appreciate it, Nyssa.’

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and Tegan felt the faint stirrings of hope within her heart. What had Adric been implying earlier? That Nyssa hadn’t been flustered because of the congregation applauding her, but that Tegan had been?

Oh, how she wished she could be as brave as to enquire further.

But she couldn’t dare. To suggest anything else would be presumptuous, not to mention unfair to Nyssa.

One of these days, Nyssa would find a young man who she wished to marry, and that would be that. It hurt Tegan to imagine that, but she knew that she could do nothing to prevent it. And, in the long run, if a marriage made Nyssa happy, then Tegan was fine with that. Even if it did pain her to know that any future Nyssa would have would not be with Tegan by her side, at least in that sort of way.

‘You are too kind. Tegan, I wish that…’ -Nyssa’s eyes were fixed on Tegan’s for a second longer before looking down quickly at her own lap. ‘Oh, nevermind.’

There was a pause but Tegan was unable to voice her desire to enquire what Nyssa wished for. Fear choked her throat, and she crinkled the fabric of her dress underneath her hands.

‘Er… Nyssa?’

‘Yes?’

Tegan deliberated for a second.

‘I imagine you’ve already been aware of this, but there is due to be some dancing and singing at my parents inn this evening. It’s probably too much to ask but-’

‘O-oh, I see,’ Nyssa replied, blinking quickly. Her hands clasped the folds of her dress. ‘Tegan, I would love to… I-’

‘You’re probably busy,’ Tegan said, words stumbling over themselves. A nervous smile broke over her lips. ‘I was just wondering, you see. Mum normally keeps trying to get me to dance with Benton, and I think she might stop it if you’re there-’

‘W-well,’ Nyssa interrupted. She swallowed quickly before continuing. ‘I… being the pastors daughter doesn’t prevent me from dancing, of course. As long as I do not partake in any drinking, I’m sure my father will have no issues with me attending.’

‘Really?’ Tegan’s eyes widened, and she grinned. ‘That’s fantastic; thank you!’

‘My pleasure, Tegan. Although…’ -Nyssa looked up at her from under her long eyelashes. ‘I… I do not have much experience dancing with people.’

‘Oh, that’s no matter,’ Tegan replied. ‘You can… you can dance with me. If… if that’s okay?’

Nyssa reached out and squeezed Tegan’s hand softly.

‘That is more than okay, Tegan. I would consider it an honour.’

The two young woman shared a smile, and Tegan could see herself softly reflected in those grey-green orbs that she found both intoxicating and yet relaxing all at once. As Nyssa continued to gently squeeze her hand, Tegan felt -just for a moment- that maybe things weren’t as hopeless as she had once believed.

~~~~~~~~~~

Apologies for the delay between this chapter and the last (got sidetracked writing LOTR smut for Merrywyn day XD) but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. In the next chapter: dancing, pining and a new arrival to the village!

[deathxproof-archive]

Get To Know Susan Foreman 5!

“How much Classic Who / Extended Who lore do I need to know—-“ 

I’m gonna be honest, like, none. Know that she is the Doctor’s granddaughter. Know that she is a Time Lord who has regenerated from that girl. I play fast and loose with her canon / the lore I know from different novels and audios. You don’t need to be familiar with any source material if you don’t want to be. Here are my rules, which do matter more than any of that. That being said, let’s get into Susan!

Basics—

Default Regeneration: 5

Name: Susan Foreman 

AKA: Arkytior, Susan Campbell, Susan Rose Foreman(ooc AKA: arkytiorforeman circa 2013-2017)

Age + DOB: ??? 450??ish? Unknown. She found out this regeneration is a Taurus, though. She’s specifically a Taurus Sun, Aquarius Moon, and Gemini Rising. She checked her TARDIS records for when she regenerated specifically. She wanted to know.

Gender: Woman-adjacent. Probably nonbinary, if not more agender.

Sexuality: Queer??? Space Queer?

Species: Gallifreyan. Time Lord? Gallifreyan. 

Occupation: Museum curator. History and ghost tour guide. Botanist. Herbalist. 

Faceclaim: Angel Coulby

Susan 5’s Playlist!: Only Culturally Gallifreyan

Background— 

Current Residence: By and large her TARDIS. Verse-dependent. Defaults to London, England, sometime in the late 20th to earlyish 21st century. 

TARDIS Appearance: Grandfather clock.

Parents: If you have some lore you’re attached to let me know, but I tend to lean towards writing a head canon that Arkytior/Susan was accidentally loomed or otherwise brought into existence by Theta, Koschei and Ushas, or maybe just happened upon. As far as she’s aware she isn’t… Quite… Sure. About her parents. Nobody ever talked about it. The Doctor is still her closest parental figure. The Master was a close parental figure. The Rani was there, sometimes. Less parental and more… Aunt-ly.

Parents Pt 2: The Doctor(Father), The Master(Father), The Rani(Mother?)(Strange Aunt?)

Significant Others: David Campbell(very deceased) 

Children: Barbara Foreman(estranged/deceased), Ian Foreman(estranged/deceased), David Foreman Jr(estranged/deceased), Alex Campbell Foreman(very deceased). 

Other Family Members: The Doctor(Grandfather), The Master(?)(Grandfather?), The Rani(????)(Grandmother? Strange Aunt?), Irving Braxiatel (Uncle)

Chosen Family: Barbara and Ian Chesterton(old, good friends), Johnny Chesterton(new, good friend. Ian and Barbara’s child. Susan’s pseudo-godchild.) 

Quickest Biography I Can Muster—

Susan Foreman in her current form and state of being is roughly 450-475 years old, and sporting her fifth face. 

Four(4) faces ago she was a little Gallifreyan girl just changing her name and fucking around with her Grandfather and her two good Earth friends. Then she was left on a hostile time in Earth’s history with her then-future-husband, David, by the Doctor. They adopted a handful of children and tried to make a life in alien-hostile, Dalek-infested 22nd Century Earth. 

Three(3) faces ago she regenerated after people began to question why David looked so much older and Susan stayed, well, literally exactly the same. The same face, but older. But not too old, either. Her son Alex died by Dalek attack, and in a turn of events not long after the Master kidnapped and killed David in front of her. Susan, in defense, killed the Master and stole his TARDIS. As one does. Her psychic skills were always impressive, apparently, compared to other Time Lords. She didn’t know how so until she got a test for it. And why wouldn’t she keep a TARDIS she rightfully earned, anyways?

Two(2) faces ago… Two faces ago she didn’t last long. The events surrounding David and Alex estranged her from her own surviving kids in a way she tried to swear wouldn’t happen when she was the parental figure. Her remaining kids wanted nothing to do with her. The Time Lords thought her dead, and when she could’ve received any summons to the Time War, she simply ignored them anyways. Eventually they went away— and when they came back she spent the majority of her regeneration in the chameleon arch under a fobwatch in a last ditch effort to avoid any chance of returning to her home planet, let alone one that was burning.  

One(1) face ago she began to reunite with Barbara and Ian Chesterton on Earth. This involved meeting their kid, Johnny, and taking Johnny around with her for a few trips and hang outs here and there. She was fine, definitely not still in a bad place after her kids and her husband all died, definitely not angry and sad because the rest of her children estranged themselves from her after David and Alex dying, definitely didn’t react as poorly as anyone might to their home being destroyed while they willingly hid, definitely didn’t try to die by inhibiting her regeneration on purpose hahahaa why would she do that? 

Face Number Five, Right here, right now she’s… Still freshly regenerated, for the most part. Definitely figuring herself out sometimes- most times. She’s often rather manic in this point in her regeneration, reckless, flighty and feels ever-so-slightly invincible after her coincidental survival. She’s bubbling over with life and energy and space where she wants to be. Earth is her home more than anything else, sometimes viewing humans as an anthropological study that she couldn’t put down to the point of entangling her life into them. 

Susan hops between hobbyist time travel and attempting to build some sort of, any sort of life of her own around the Chestertons. As she settled into this face, the more Barbara and Ian tried to encourage her to get a job, a steady career to give her something to do. Johnny encouraged it if only to help their friend build some sort of identity. 

She job hops. History and ghost walking tours were good fun and a way to show off, until people online started to realize she was giving tours in different countries in the same week. Real estate was completely dull. Working with plants was promising… Currently she resides as the lead art curator for a museum in London. It’s amazing, she has an incredible knack for finding mysteriously lost or otherwise stolen artworks. It’s great luck, knowing the right people at the right time. It would be silly for Ian or Barbara to even suggest time travel was involved in the slightest.

Susan 5 is here for a good time, not a long time. If you ask her, she clearly has regenerations to spare. Lives are less a dwindling resource and more a tool she can rely on when needed. She is figuring out her personhood, doesn’t exactly know who she is— but her name is Susan Foreman. And she’s new, she’s young, she’s fresh, she’s hot. Let’s see where this goes.

[nounpolycule]

Not asking for wips or anything, but letting it be known I've been doing my part 🫡

[Image ID: A screenshot of a Doctor Who ship bracket poll. The poll is between River/Rose and Doctor/Master. River/Rose is at 33.3%, while Doctor/Master is at 66.7%. At the bottom, it says that those are the final results from 393 votes. My profile picture, a light purple V against a darker purple background, is on the "River/Rose" option, indicating I voted for them. /End ID]

[Image ID: A screenshot of a Doctor Who ship bracket poll. The poll is between Ian/Barbara and Doctor/River/Rose. Ian/Barbara is at 62.8%, while Doctor/River/Rose is at 37.2%. At the bottom, it says that the polls has 231 votes and 6 days, 16 hours remaining. My profile picture, a light purple V against a darker purple background, is on the "Doctor/River/Rose" option, indicating I voted for them. /End ID]

Really hope I did the IDs right ^-^

Thank you for your support

[Image description: A screenshot of the Eleventh Doctor saluting with the background removed. End image description.]

[fab-wolf-in-the-gloom]

Cat picture please!!

[Image ID: A screenshot of a Doctor Who ship bracket poll. The poll is between Ian/Barbara and Doctor/River/Rose. Ian/Barbara is at 66.4%, while Doctor/River/Rose is at 33.6%. At the bottom, it says that the polls has 488 votes and 1 day, 13 hours remaining. My profile picture, a light purple V against a darker purple background, is on the "Doctor/River/Rose" option, indicating I voted for them. /End ID]

Cat pictures!!!!!

[demigodofhoolemere]

9 people you'd like to get to know better

Tagged by @bethanyactually , thanks! 💗

3 Ships: At the moment my thoughts are mainly just with Classic Who ships lol. Ian/Barbara, Ben/Polly, Jamie/Victoria.

First Ship Ever: Probably a pairing from Disney or Barbie.

Last Song: It was probably Myth by Keane because I think the last thing I was listening to was the Strangeland album.

Last Movie: Ice Age because I was hanging out with a friend yesterday and we had it on in the background while we both did our own thing.

Currently Reading: Prince Caspian

Currently Watching: Classic Who as usual lol. I’ve got The Daleks on as I type this.

Currently Consuming: Bacon! 🥓

Currently Craving: Idk about now but I was badly craving a medium rare steak the other day lol. If we leave the realm of food, I’m craving for lost DW eps to be found soon and that Steven gets a cameo in the 60th. (One-track mind going on here, clearly.)