Prompt 32: 2.33/3.00
Here we go, folks. It's the beginning of the end for this one. I started this story last June and have since dropped it. northern_magic inspired me to bring it back. This is for her.
Pssst- Rose. The extra stuff is coming at the very last installment. Just so ya know.
Title: Prompt 32
Author: Kesshin
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Nine, Rose, and a hapless fusion chick named Maria. Ooh, and aliens.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: A series of mutations lead Rose and the Doctor to head to the States- more specifically, Houston. Backpacks are stolen, pigeons are confused, and shirts are taken off.
But not like you're thinking.
Written for the June picture-prompt challenge (prompt 32, unsurprisingly). Posted fashionably late.
-
Part one: >>>
Has pigeons.
Part two: >>>
Is kinda gory.
Part two point three three: >>>
-
-
We left the apartment and walked. After seventeen blocks, I developed sneaking suspicion that the Doctor knew Houston better than I did. That suspicion was confirmed when he lead us into the front entrance of a thirty-story office building, just sauntering in like he played golf with the owner on the weekends. He took us to the lobby elevator.
“Going up.”
The elevator was all glass on one side. I watched as office after empty office swished by.
“Modern,” I said as we passed the twenty story mark.
The Doctor let his mouth tilt up at the sides, “Depends on your definition of ‘modern.”
“Yeah… So, I take it you have a helicopter or something parked on the roof. Mini-jet?”
I wasn’t sure if I was being serious or not. The Doctor seemed to think so.
“Not exactly.”
At last the elevator stilled, letting out a sigh as the doors opened onto the roof. Sky stretched before us and we stepped out.
“’S lovely,” Rose said. She let her gaze rest at the point where the murky chunk of earth on the horizon faded into the atmosphere, “Wonder what it would be like without the light pollution.”
“Forget that; you should see it when it’s an ocean, Precambrian.”
“Next week, then?”
“Maybe.”
They looked at each other, and there was something in their look that made me turn away. I focused instead on the humidity-ripe wind, on the anemic stars, and on this scent that lay just beyond my reach…
“C’mon,” the Doctor shouted, “I parked her over here.”
My head turned faster than it should have. I struggled to control my walk so that I didn’t slip into a trot, a jog, a full-out sprint to get to where the Doctor was pointing-
Have you ever walked into a room and felt instantly hungry? Your gut registers the presence of food before your mind does, before you consciously recognize that that smell in the air is peach cobbler. Or maybe you’ve sat by someone on a bus and felt this little tingle in the back of your chest, where your lungs are, and when you finally catch a glimpse of that person next to you, you realize that they are attractive in a way that borders on criminal. Such things happen. They are itches in the subconscious. They prove that your body knows its stuff.
What I felt then was one of those subconscious itches, a mosquito bite in my primal aspect. I started running.
I arrived at Rose’s side, out of breath and only just realizing that something was terribly, awfully wrong. The Doctor opened the door to the roof’s ventilation shed.
“This is the Tardis,” he said. He said something else but I didn’t hear.
The box was blue- just that, a blue box made out of wood, only it wasn’t.
In a figurative sense, it was peach cobbler. It was a criminally attractive man.
My mouth watered.
“- Dimension in Space, but that’s a bit of a mouthful. So,” the Doctor said, making scooping gestures with his arms, “inside, then.”
“It’s very old,” I said, without knowing why. Then I lunged.
My body lurched towards the box, palms wide, breath twisted into something like shrieking. I wanted to tear past that door. I wanted to claw my way inside and bury myself in that freedom and pulsing potential, that golden heart-
Zzzzzt.
I heard the sound, and then I felt it in my bones. A crackling barrier barred my way. It was transparent. I ran my hands along its expanse like I was some sort of crazed mime, wanting to get into the invisible box instead of out.
“Hah,” I said, a choking sound.
Rose was standing behind me. Her brown eyes were wide.
“Doctor-”
“That would be the viral filter,” he said. His voice rumbled grimly as he stepped closer, “Keeps out unwanted microorganisms.”
The desire was still buzzing around my head.
“But that’s not right,” the Doctor added, brow crinkling, “’cause it’s not supposed to interfere with people, not even infected ones. Just stuff in the air. If Maria-”
“I’m fine.”
I was, mostly. It wasn’t the easiest thing I’d ever done, but with a bit of effort I willed the hunger away. In its place rose feelings of confusion and fear.
I looked at the Doctor, “That’s not a box. It’s something else that takes you places.”
“Yes.”
“Places very far away, right?”
He nodded.
“But I shouldn’t know that.”
“No,” he said, agreeing.
I stepped away from the barrier, hands balling into fists at my sides. The box sang to me. I could smell its energy, smoky yet utterly crisp, new and old and foreign and familiar in the way my father’s face is familiar.
It scared me shitless.
“I’ll stay here.”
There was no other alternative, though the Doctor was kind enough to leave that unsaid. He dipped his head into another nod. The box opened at the touch of his hand and the turn of a key. At the sight of its interior, my pulse threw itself into overdrive.
Rose paused at the doorway.
“Are you going to be all right?”
My response consisted of some unintelligible drooling and perhaps a mangled rendition of the word, ‘Yes.’
“Are you sure?”
“Grrgh,” I said.
“We should be back within a few moments- if he gets the trajectory right this time. Otherwise it may be several months.” She laughed then, trying to earn a smile from me. It was a sweet gesture and I did my best to smile back. I applied every ounce of personal control towards keeping the desire from my face.
Three seconds.
“Please,” I croaked. My smile was edging towards a grimace, “close the door.”
“Oh.”
With an apologetic wave, Rose stepped inside. The Doctor’s voice echoed from somewhere behind her:
“This won’t take long, Maria. Stay put.”
His voice was cut off when the door clicked shut.
I heard a sound like the universe turning.
It made me bite my lip so that I wouldn’t scream.
-
__ To be continued...
Pssst- Rose. The extra stuff is coming at the very last installment. Just so ya know.
Title: Prompt 32
Author: Kesshin
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Nine, Rose, and a hapless fusion chick named Maria. Ooh, and aliens.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: A series of mutations lead Rose and the Doctor to head to the States- more specifically, Houston. Backpacks are stolen, pigeons are confused, and shirts are taken off.
But not like you're thinking.
Written for the June picture-prompt challenge (prompt 32, unsurprisingly). Posted fashionably late.
-
Part one: >>>
Has pigeons.
Part two: >>>
Is kinda gory.
Part two point three three: >>>
-
-
We left the apartment and walked. After seventeen blocks, I developed sneaking suspicion that the Doctor knew Houston better than I did. That suspicion was confirmed when he lead us into the front entrance of a thirty-story office building, just sauntering in like he played golf with the owner on the weekends. He took us to the lobby elevator.
“Going up.”
The elevator was all glass on one side. I watched as office after empty office swished by.
“Modern,” I said as we passed the twenty story mark.
The Doctor let his mouth tilt up at the sides, “Depends on your definition of ‘modern.”
“Yeah… So, I take it you have a helicopter or something parked on the roof. Mini-jet?”
I wasn’t sure if I was being serious or not. The Doctor seemed to think so.
“Not exactly.”
At last the elevator stilled, letting out a sigh as the doors opened onto the roof. Sky stretched before us and we stepped out.
“’S lovely,” Rose said. She let her gaze rest at the point where the murky chunk of earth on the horizon faded into the atmosphere, “Wonder what it would be like without the light pollution.”
“Forget that; you should see it when it’s an ocean, Precambrian.”
“Next week, then?”
“Maybe.”
They looked at each other, and there was something in their look that made me turn away. I focused instead on the humidity-ripe wind, on the anemic stars, and on this scent that lay just beyond my reach…
“C’mon,” the Doctor shouted, “I parked her over here.”
My head turned faster than it should have. I struggled to control my walk so that I didn’t slip into a trot, a jog, a full-out sprint to get to where the Doctor was pointing-
Have you ever walked into a room and felt instantly hungry? Your gut registers the presence of food before your mind does, before you consciously recognize that that smell in the air is peach cobbler. Or maybe you’ve sat by someone on a bus and felt this little tingle in the back of your chest, where your lungs are, and when you finally catch a glimpse of that person next to you, you realize that they are attractive in a way that borders on criminal. Such things happen. They are itches in the subconscious. They prove that your body knows its stuff.
What I felt then was one of those subconscious itches, a mosquito bite in my primal aspect. I started running.
I arrived at Rose’s side, out of breath and only just realizing that something was terribly, awfully wrong. The Doctor opened the door to the roof’s ventilation shed.
“This is the Tardis,” he said. He said something else but I didn’t hear.
The box was blue- just that, a blue box made out of wood, only it wasn’t.
In a figurative sense, it was peach cobbler. It was a criminally attractive man.
My mouth watered.
“- Dimension in Space, but that’s a bit of a mouthful. So,” the Doctor said, making scooping gestures with his arms, “inside, then.”
“It’s very old,” I said, without knowing why. Then I lunged.
My body lurched towards the box, palms wide, breath twisted into something like shrieking. I wanted to tear past that door. I wanted to claw my way inside and bury myself in that freedom and pulsing potential, that golden heart-
Zzzzzt.
I heard the sound, and then I felt it in my bones. A crackling barrier barred my way. It was transparent. I ran my hands along its expanse like I was some sort of crazed mime, wanting to get into the invisible box instead of out.
“Hah,” I said, a choking sound.
Rose was standing behind me. Her brown eyes were wide.
“Doctor-”
“That would be the viral filter,” he said. His voice rumbled grimly as he stepped closer, “Keeps out unwanted microorganisms.”
The desire was still buzzing around my head.
“But that’s not right,” the Doctor added, brow crinkling, “’cause it’s not supposed to interfere with people, not even infected ones. Just stuff in the air. If Maria-”
“I’m fine.”
I was, mostly. It wasn’t the easiest thing I’d ever done, but with a bit of effort I willed the hunger away. In its place rose feelings of confusion and fear.
I looked at the Doctor, “That’s not a box. It’s something else that takes you places.”
“Yes.”
“Places very far away, right?”
He nodded.
“But I shouldn’t know that.”
“No,” he said, agreeing.
I stepped away from the barrier, hands balling into fists at my sides. The box sang to me. I could smell its energy, smoky yet utterly crisp, new and old and foreign and familiar in the way my father’s face is familiar.
It scared me shitless.
“I’ll stay here.”
There was no other alternative, though the Doctor was kind enough to leave that unsaid. He dipped his head into another nod. The box opened at the touch of his hand and the turn of a key. At the sight of its interior, my pulse threw itself into overdrive.
Rose paused at the doorway.
“Are you going to be all right?”
My response consisted of some unintelligible drooling and perhaps a mangled rendition of the word, ‘Yes.’
“Are you sure?”
“Grrgh,” I said.
“We should be back within a few moments- if he gets the trajectory right this time. Otherwise it may be several months.” She laughed then, trying to earn a smile from me. It was a sweet gesture and I did my best to smile back. I applied every ounce of personal control towards keeping the desire from my face.
Three seconds.
“Please,” I croaked. My smile was edging towards a grimace, “close the door.”
“Oh.”
With an apologetic wave, Rose stepped inside. The Doctor’s voice echoed from somewhere behind her:
“This won’t take long, Maria. Stay put.”
His voice was cut off when the door clicked shut.
I heard a sound like the universe turning.
It made me bite my lip so that I wouldn’t scream.
-
__ To be continued...