(no subject)
Right. It's 2:30 am here and I'm half-asleep, but I'm posting this anyway. Stupid insomnia.
Title: Memories Returning
Author: Dagnir_fic (DagniroVanaliel)
Prompt: #019 White
Claim: Five/Ten
My table is HERE
Rating: PG
Pairing: Five/Ten
Disclaimer: As far as I know, I don't own Doctor Who.
NO SPOILERS
His hearts lurch as he enters the impossibly large room. He remembers when he redecorated to make it look like this, then kept going until it was a messy assortment of random bits all jumbled and hotwired together.
This... It's clean, for one, and doesn't have a metal grill covering tangled wires he really should get to fixing one day. It's white and gleaming. The console is smooth and the buttons look like they belong. Because they do.
It's a mark of how easier things were back then. Push a button and (usually) end up where you want. No levers or handles or weird green spheres to mess with. A monitor that works without whacking it. Hell, a ship that works without having to kick at it.
He runs his hand over the white walls, feeling the grooves of the impressed circles. The door, practically invisible and inaccessible without pushing one of the console buttons.
So pure. Like... like the snow on Gallifrey.
He turns back to his companion and smiles sadly.
"Thank you for letting me remember," he says softly. The other bows his head and presses the button. The doors swing open and he steps out, shivering.
For a moment, just a moment, the solitude and emptiness of the white control room made him feel like he wasn't alone.
Title: Memories Returning
Author: Dagnir_fic (DagniroVanaliel)
Prompt: #019 White
Claim: Five/Ten
My table is HERE
Rating: PG
Pairing: Five/Ten
Disclaimer: As far as I know, I don't own Doctor Who.
NO SPOILERS
His hearts lurch as he enters the impossibly large room. He remembers when he redecorated to make it look like this, then kept going until it was a messy assortment of random bits all jumbled and hotwired together.
This... It's clean, for one, and doesn't have a metal grill covering tangled wires he really should get to fixing one day. It's white and gleaming. The console is smooth and the buttons look like they belong. Because they do.
It's a mark of how easier things were back then. Push a button and (usually) end up where you want. No levers or handles or weird green spheres to mess with. A monitor that works without whacking it. Hell, a ship that works without having to kick at it.
He runs his hand over the white walls, feeling the grooves of the impressed circles. The door, practically invisible and inaccessible without pushing one of the console buttons.
So pure. Like... like the snow on Gallifrey.
He turns back to his companion and smiles sadly.
"Thank you for letting me remember," he says softly. The other bows his head and presses the button. The doors swing open and he steps out, shivering.
For a moment, just a moment, the solitude and emptiness of the white control room made him feel like he wasn't alone.